#he can identify people by scent

[seasidehobo]

I like to think Miguel memorized what Tempest smelled like, and used to just say hello to her without looking anytime she walked in the room. Before Miguel ended up back with Tempest, he spent some of his free time in the future trying to recreate the smell because it brings him comfort

[smileysuh]

Love, Cupid

🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.”

tw/cw. unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), pussy worship, love drunk Mingyu, fingering, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, hand-holding during sex, Mingyu is somewhat subby/switchy, mainly missionary to accommodate for his wings, sensitive wings, hand job, mention of birth control, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, etc… I pet names: (his) big guy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 13.4k

🍭 aus. mythical/roman/cupid au, soulmate au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. this man has me in a chokehold

Prologue - the accident

“I’m still not really sure why we needed a new cupid,” Mingyu confesses, toying with the elegantly curved, white bow in his hands. “But I guess if anyone is going to teach you how to do this, it should be me.”

It’s no secret that out of the twelve high council cupids, Mingyu is the one who is most obsessed with love. He lives, breathes and dreams of it. Every second of the immortal man’s life is dedicated to love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Out of all of Venus’s children, Mingyu is the favorite, and he has no worries that training this new cupid will lead to competition in that regard. Chan seems nice enough, but Mingyu can already tell that the kid has a lot to learn when it comes to the duty of being a matchmaker.

“Our arrows are the most powerful weapon on earth,” Mingyu explains, hovering with his new younger brother over the busy city street. They each have large angelic wings that keep them aloft, and extra cupid magic makes it so they’re invisible to the human eye. Mingyu’s favorite place to people-watch is from the sky, it gives him a bird’s eye view, and an easy way to trail his targets without anything getting in the way. 

“I thought Jupiter’s lightning bolt was the most powerful weapon on earth,” Chan muses.

“It’s not.”

“Neptune’s trident then.”

Mingyu lets out a deep sigh. “Are you here to learn or not?”

“I just want you to explain it to me. How is your bow and arrow the most powerful weapon?” Chan acts as if he’s just looking for information, but Mingyu gets the sneaking suspicion that the young cupid is toying with him. He seems to be cut from the same cloth as the likes of Jeonghan and Soonyoung, who identify as more mischievous and tricksy than most deities supposedly enamored with love.

“Love is the most powerful thing on Earth,” Mingyu states, “and our tools are the makers of love, for humans anyways. Do you know how many wars were started in the name of love? How many people have died for love? Love is the most important and powerful emotion. Without it, humanity has nothing.” 

“I’m still not sure I agree with you on this,” Chan sighs.

“You don’t have to agree with me, because I’m right, and I know I’m right. Now shut up and watch,” Mingyu shushes the younger cupid, pointing at the street below. “Do you see that human?”

Chan flies closer to Mingyu, angling his head toward the elder cupid’s large bicep, looking down his arm to the point of his finger. “The pretty girl?”

“Yes, exactly! Her!” 

“Are we going to shoot her?”

“Yes, but we can’t just shoot her randomly- when we shoot her, she’ll fall in love with the first person she sees- the first person she looks at, and we can’t have her falling in love with just anyone on the street. That would be very irresponsible of us. Once shot, a soul connection forms- our arrows can never miss, and they can never be shot nonchalantly.”

“Or what?”

“Or it would be very, very bad, and as I said, irresponsible, and just… not good. Our job is to find a good match for as many humans as possible, and we can do this by looking at their auras. You see how her aura is pink?” God, Mingyu loves looking at your aura. You’ve got one of the prettiest auras he’s ever seen, and Mingyu’s been around for an extremely long time. “Each aura means something different. Pink souls are romantics, they’re soft. Pinks do best with other pinks, other pinks make them the most fulfilled. They can also manage a red, as they’ll draw on each other’s mutual passions. White auras are also suitable for pinks.”

“Yeah, I know about arua colour.,” Chan rolls his eyes. “Blues work best with blues, they can also do well with greens or purples. Greens do best with yellows, greens or blues. Purple does blue or red. I’m not in primary school.” 

Mingyu has no clue how old the new cupid is. It’s a very human joke to make- mentioning primary school. Cupids are born, sure, but they age differently than humans, faster. Mingyu supposes that as the newest cupid, maybe Chan is a representation of the times- but if he starts bringing out Gen Z humor and saying things like “this is lit” while shooting his marks, Mingyu might just have a heart attack.

“These days, pink can be a rare aura to find in men,” Mingyu admits. “I’ve considered a few red auras for her- but she’s so soft, I wouldn’t want her to be overwhelmed. Reds are prone to anger, and a pink can soften them out, but a red aura will always be red, and I don’t think I want that for her.”

“Are you always this wrapped up in the matches you make?” Chan asks. “This shit seems easy- I see an orange aura, I match them with an orange, yellow, or red. I see a pink, I match her with a pink, white or red. It’s not that serious.”

“How could it be anything but serious!?” Mingyu groans. “I told you, our arrow is the most dangerous weapon in the world- you can’t just go around shooting people randomly!”

“But you haven’t actually explained what would happen if I did,” the new cupid points out.

“I told you, it’s irresponsible.”

“Yeah, but what does that mean?”

“It means bad things would happen!”

“Bad things like what, though?”

Mingyu loves love. He’s a soft cupid. But for the love of Venus, he’s beginning to want to strangle Chan. 

Instead of answering, Mingyu’s gaze finds you again. Chan doesn’t have to take this seriously, Mingyu’s on a mission to find you a soulmate, and he’ll stop at nothing-

“Ouch!” Mingyu flinches, tearing his eyes from you and grabbing at his arm, where an arrow is protruding from his bicep. The cupid’s jaw drops, and he looks to the younger mischief maker.

“Oops?” Chan shrugs.

“Why did you do that!?” Mingyu screams, tearing the arrow out and covering the wound before it begins to drip his golden immortal blood. 

“I wanted to see what would happen if I randomly shot a couple without doing research. She’s pink. You’re the pinkest soul I’ve ever even seen- it’s a good match, no?” Chan grins. “Like… what’s the worst that could happen?”

Mingyu can’t even speak. He can’t find the words. 

Never, in the history of the world - as far as Mingyu knows it - has one cupid shot another, let alone with the intention of binding their soul to a mortal’s. 

But to be completely fair, Mingyu can’t even find it within himself to be mad at Chan. For one, he should have never given the new cupid his own bow and arrow, and maybe more importantly- Chan might have been right in binding the two of you. Because holy shit, you’ve got the prettiest soul Mingyu’s ever seen, and he’s been hesitant to match you up with someone, worried they’d be unworthy-

What’s a better fit for your pretty pink aura than his own vibrant magenta self?

One - the cupid council 

“And then…” Mingyu looks around at the council of Cupids, taking a deep breath as he gets to the climax of the report, “Chan shot me.”

“He shot you?” Seungcheol grins, adjusting in his golden throne as he looks at the two immortals in the center of the room.

“With an arrow,” Mingyu clarifies. “Yeah.”

The eldest cupid stifles laughter, lifting a hand to half cover his mouth as he giggles and looks around at the others. Jeonghan meets the eldest’s gaze, also grinning. There are mixed reactions from others, and it’s Soonyoung of all people who stands up as if this whole thing is blasphemy, declaring, “Take the kid’s arrows away!”

“Why did this kid even get made,” Jihoon groans, rubbing his temples in annoyance.

“Hey!” Chan declares, offended at the notion of him being a useless creation from their godly mother. 

“Seungkwan,” Seungcheol waves a hand, “take his arrows away.”

“Wait, no, I earned these!” Chan holds his bow and quiver close to his chest, hiding behind Mingyu when one of the other cupids gets closer to relieve him of his weapons. 

“You shot an elder cupid,” Seungcheol says dismissively. “How does that count as earning your bow and arrow, or for that matter, your wings.” The eldest eyes the small white protrusions that flutter behind Chan, who shudders at the idea of them being taken away along with his cupid tools.

“Okay, everyone relax,” Jeonghan sighs, standing from his throne to address the room. “This isn’t Chan’s fault. I’d heard Mingyu was having trouble with a mark, being indecisive- and I wasn’t the only one who heard about it. This instruction came from Mother herself. Chan was just following orders. He has earned his bow and arrow, as well as his wings.”

“This order came from Mother?” Seungcheol sits up in his chair, jaw-dropping.

Venus is generally very hands-off with her sons. The idea that she’d heard about Mingyu’s predicament, and stepped in with an idea like this- well, it’s completely abnormal, and it’s clear that everyone on the cupid council is shocked by the revelation. 

“She said something along the lines of… ‘Mingyu loves love, and it’s time he experiences it for himself.’” Jeonghan waves a hand nonchalantly, as if this is an everyday occurrence. 

“What were you doing with Mother?” Wonwoo asks, and it’s clear in his tone that he’s not entirely trusting of the elder, more mischievous cupid.

“She has favorites, you know,” Jeonghan grins. “To Mingyu, she gifted love, to me, she gifted the role of messenger.” 

“That’s some gift,” Seungcheol scoffs, but Mingyu gets the sense that Seungcheol wishes he’d been the one chosen to be privy to this information. “So Mother wants Mingyu to do what? Seduce a human?”

��Like it will be hard?” Jeonghan lets out a barking laugh. “This is our Mingyu we’re talking about. If anyone can seduce a human, it’s him.”

Two - the first meet

“Ok, but what if you shoot her too?” Mingyu suggests as he and Chan follow you from a distance, flying through the clear evening sky while you head home from work.

“Why don’t you shoot her?” Chan retorts.

“Jeeze,” Mingyu rolls his eyes at the newness of his sidekick. “You shot me, so I’m bonded to her now, which means only you can make her second connection. It’s a rule to make sure cupids don’t get in each other’s way. You shot me to fall for her, and if I shot her to fall for anyone else, that would lead to unrequited love, which isn’t fun for anyone.”

“A rule? What would happen if you tried to shoot her though? I mean, unless you and all the other cupids constantly communicate about your marks, there’s no way to know which human belongs to which cupid, is there?”

“What’s with you and breaking rules?” Mingyu sighs, rubbing at his temples. “Listen, I’m not testing fate again… also, most cities are split into small zones. Cupids stick to their zones.”

“Humans don’t though,” Chan points out.

“I’m not talking about this with you anymore.”

“Okay, suit yourself.”

“So will you shoot her for me?”

“Mmmm,” Chan makes a face. “I don’t think so.”

“What?!” Mingyu stops flying, staring at the cupid that he’s supposed to be training. “But… but I’m your teacher, and I’m telling you to shoot her for me!”

“That would be too easy though, right?” Chan flashes a grin. “Plus- that would be an abuse of power, Mingyu. You’re in love with her now, so telling me to force her to fall for you isn’t very fair, now is it?” 

“I-” Mingyu bites at his tongue. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Well… we know I’m best for her. It wouldn’t be an abuse because we know I’ll treat her right.”

“The thing is…” Chan lets out a yawn, “I’m still not convinced.”

“So you expect me to just go and talk to her?”

“Yeah?” The younger cupid shrugs. “You’re supposed to be some sex god, aren’t you?”

“No one’s ever called me that…” Mingyu can feel his skin heating at the notion. “I’m a love cupid, not a sex god.”

“Same thing,” Chan scoffs. “Just go talk to her. Come on, follow me.” He takes a nose dive, approaching the ground at a speed that makes Mingyu worry for his safety- only for Chan to land like a pro, waving at him to hurry up.

With a groan, Mingyu follows the younger cupid, his feet touching down onto the pavement of the crowded street.

“You can’t go talk to her looking like this,” Chan explains, looking Mingyu up and down.

As immortal beings, they’re impervious to the temperatures of the evening. Dressed in a cream-coloured toga, Mingyu stands out amongst the jackets and hats worn to protect human skin from the cold. “Give me a sec,” Mingyu sighs, using some cupid magic to transform his outward appearance, conjuring an outfit he thinks might draw you in. “How’s this?”

“A suit? Seriously?” Chan rolls his eyes.

“Suits are in!” Mingyu insists.

“Yeah, if you want to look like a sugar daddy.”

“Maybe she wants a sugar daddy?” Mingyu suggests.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some human expert? She’s a pink soul, Mingyu, how many pink souls really value money over personality?”

“So you know more about humans than I do now?” Mingyu can’t believe what he’s hearing out of his ward’s mouth.

“I think love is blinding you, dude,” Chan says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s expensive silk tie. “You’re pretending to be someone you’re not.”

“I’m rich,” Mingyu insists. 

“Sure, but you’re not a sugar daddy, you’re a cupid.”

Mingyu scoffs. “So what would you want me to wear?” 

“Blue jeans, maybe a hoodie, something that screams ‘make me your boyfriend.’”

Mingyu has to concede that Chan might be onto something, but he refuses to admit it out loud. In fact, Mingyu buries deeper into his conviction that you’ll like the suit. “This outfit is staying,” he states.

“Fine,” Chan shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

With one final grin and giggle at his own double entendre, Chan pushes Mingyu roughly, causing him to fall back and bump directly into you. The rough contact jolts Mingyu into a corporeal form, putting him fully into your visibility as you steady yourself and blink up at him.

“Oh, uh… excuse me?” You’re a little stunned- but Mingyu supposes that's what happens when a man appears out of thin air. 

“No, that was my fault,” Mingyu assures you quickly. “I uh… two left feet.”

“Right…” You look down, then back up at Mingyu, giving him a soft smile before stepping past him to continue on with your night.

Mingyu watches you in shock, then he pulls himself out of it, rushing to follow you. “I uh- I should make it up to you!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave a hand.

“But I do worry about it,” Mingyu insists, putting himself in front of you this time. “Here,” he conjures a flower from behind his back, holding it out to you, “Something to say sorry.”

You stop, staring up at him and then down at the rose. “You just happen to have that?” you ask quizically. “Were you trying to bump into me or something?”

“No, I just had the flower.” Mingyu would be sweating if he was a being who could sweat.

“Sure you did,” you laugh. “Look, I’m sure whatever girl you actually had that flower for would like it more than me.”

“I swear, it’s for you- look, forget the flower,” Mingyu tosses it onto the ground. “There must be some way I can make this up to you.”

“Dude, you bumped into me on the street, we’re good.” 

Mingyu doesn’t know what else to say, so he simply says, “Please?”

You let out a sigh. “If I give you my number, will you let this go?”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you have a pen?” 

Mingyu conjures one in his pocket, pulling it out to give it to you. When you take the pen, you grab his wrist, pulling his palm close so you can scrawl across it. 

The cupid watches your every action, etching it into his memory. You’re so lovely, your pretty pink aura wrapped around you like a warm halo. When he takes in a deep breath, he can smell the touch of roses in the air, a lover-girl scent-

“There,” you sigh, releasing his hand. “Now I really have somewhere to be.”

“Okay,” Mingyu murmurs, holding his palm close. “Have a good night.”

“You too, big guy,” you say, laughing to yourself as you brush past him.

It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize he never got your name and vice versa. He’s tempted to rush after you, only for a hand to clap down on his shoulder.

“Dude,” Chan grins, “that was embarrassing to watch. You have like, zero rizz.”

Three - the date

Mingyu is doing his best. He’d texted you a safe amount to plan your date. He’d picked you up in an expensive car, held doors open for you, and now, you’re eating at one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.

Even so, Mingyu can tell that something is off with you. As you pick at the appetizer, Mingyu finally gets the courage to ask what’s wrong.

“You want the honest truth?” you laugh, leaning back in your chair.

“Always.” Mingyu puts down his fork and knife, focusing on you completely.

“I’m thankful for the date,” you start. “Taking me somewhere nice is really sweet of you and everything, it’s just… I don’t know. I think lots of men these days think all girls want is money. As nice as this is- as nice as your car is, and this restaurant, I don’t think I’m the kind of girl that fits with this vibe.”

“You’re not?”

You shake your head. “You’re clearly a guy that’s well off, and I’m happy for you about that, but… I feel like when guys take me to nice places, they always expect something in return. There’s this expectation that when money gets put down, the girl has to put out too, just… in other ways.”

“Other ways? Like what?”

You scoff, giving him a look. “You know what other ways.”

Except Mingyu doesn’t know, because he’s never actually been on a date, especially not with a human. He has no idea what sort of expectations are normal, especially in your mundane world. As a cupid, he sets up the matches, but he doesn’t really follow along with the journey and see what his marks get up to after being shot with his arrow. 

“Can I be honest too?” Mingyu asks after a moment of contemplation.

“Of course.”

“I uh…” He picks his words carefully. “I don’t really date often. So… whatever expectations you think I might have, just know that I don’t have any. I just want to get to know you. That’s it. I promise.”

You stare at him, and Mingyu gets lost in your eyes. He’s more than happy to wait patiently while you think of a response, it gives him time to appreciate your beautiful form-

“You’re serious?” you ask finally.

“Uh huh,” Mingyu nods. “You seem surprised.”

“I just... You’re all handsome and dressed well, and you have a nice car, and you’ve obviously got money- I just sort of assumed you were a sugar daddy or something. Someone used to taking girls out.”

Mingyu hates the use of the term ��sugar daddy.’ It’s clear to him that Chan was right about the vibes of his clothing choices, and the cupid will admit that the car he conjured was maybe a tad too fancy. He’s been going about this all wrong, putting up a facade, creating a version of himself that he thought you would like.

Maybe Mingyu truly doesn’t know anything about you. He just hopes this misstep isn't enough to drive you away. 

“I’ve been single a long time,” Mingyu admits. “I guess, maybe I got wrapped up in doing the things I thought you would like. I figured most girls like to be wined and dined, but I never really asked you what you wanted to do. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Can we start over?” Mingyu suggests.

You smile softly, nodding.

Mingyu thinks about it for a moment before he comes up with a question that he thinks could redirect this whole situation for the better. “If I could go back, and let you choose what type of date this would be, what would we have ended up doing?”

“I find that first dates where we can walk around and see stuff together are kind of nice,” you admit. “Formal things like this, face to face, over food- they kind of make me anxious. And lulls in the conversation are more obvious.”

You’re very right about that. Every long moment of silence has made Mingyu’s heart race, and he’s rushed to fill it with surface-level questions that never seemed to hit their mark. It’s interesting that he’s learning about dating from you. 

Mingyu has never realized how little he actually knows about the rituals of love.

“How do you feel about me covering the bill for our drinks and appetizer, then we can get out of here?” Mingyu suggests. 

“You don’t want dinner?”

“If you want food, I’ll get you food,” he tells you, “but it sounds like you’d rather be on a walk, so let's go for a walk.”

You offer him another soft smile, and Mingyu can see the way your pink aura flutters with interest. It’s the first time you’ve really glowed for him tonight, so he knows he’s headed in the right direction with this line of thought.

“A walk would be perfect.”

Half an hour later, the two of you are walking side by side through one of the small city parks. 

You were right about the awkward pauses disappearing. Conversation is flowing steadily, and Mingyu couldn’t be happier. You tell him about your job, your friends, the things you do that make you happy, hobbies that have stuck with you since you were younger. 

Mingyu is practically overflowing with questions now, and every response you give him is committed to memory. 

“It’s such a nice night,” you say wistfully, pausing to look up at the sky, which is visible through a clearing in the tree canopy.

“It is,” Mingyu agrees, taking a deep breath and simply enjoying the moment.

That’s when a familiar cupid flies across his view, and Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest. 

“Should we sit down somewhere?” Mingyu asks, looking at a bench a short distance away. It’s next to a large Oak, and Mingyu hopes that the leaf foliage can give him some privacy with you, away from any curious eyes.

You nod, gently grabbing onto his arm as you begin to walk.

Mingyu’s breath catches at the contact, a jolt of energy running through his entire form. He can feel his heart lurching again, but this is a much more pleasant feeling than before. His throat is dry, and he swallows thickly to clear it, skin heating into something like a blush.

He’s happy you’re not seated across from each other in some stuffy restaurant. With the low light of street lamps that line the walkway, there’s no way you’ll be able to see the flush of his skin. As much as Mingyu is a love cupid, he doesn’t want it to be too obvious that he’s enraptured with you.

He’s terrified that anything he does could scare you off, and he’d hate himself if that ever happened. 

“Anyways,” you sigh as the two of you sit down, “enough about me, what about you?”

“Hmm?” Mingyu shuffles, turning to look at you only to find that you’ve angled your body toward him, your gaze fixed on his profile.

“What do you do for work?”

“Uh…” Mingyu doesn’t want to lie to you, but he can’t tell you the full truth either. “I’m a matchmaker, actually.”

“A matchmaker?” you repeat, surprise evident in the tone of your voice.

“Yeah. I set people up.”

“I didn’t know that was an actual job.”

“There’s lots of Korean Ajummas who want to set up their daughters or relatives with good men,” Mingyu explains, opting for a white lie. 

“I see,” you nod. “A matchmaker who doesn’t date.”

“Yeah…” Mingyu clears his throat again. “Would you believe me if I said I’m pretty good at my job?”

“Maybe,” you grin. “What makes you good at your job? If not experience in the dating arena.”

“I think I’ve just always been someone who reads people. Matching is in my blood- although, after my mess up on reading you, I’m starting to wonder how successful I’ve actually been.”

“You didn’t mess up that badly,” you assure him. “And when given the opportunity to correct your misread, you did. I’m having a really good time with you now that we’re on a walk.”

“You are?” Mingyu feels like jumping up and celebrating, but he holds himself down to earth. “I’m uh, I’m having a really good time with you too.”

Instead of responding, you simply lean your head onto his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh of contentment. 

The cupid holds very still, not wanting to move a muscle in the fear that you’ll pull away.

“Do you have any family?” you ask.

“A few brothers,” Mingyu responds.

“Are you close?”

Mingyu laughs. “With some.”

“Family can be an interesting experience,” you muse.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Mingyu admits, looking out at the dark field in front of you, where Chan does another fly-by. 

 “I hate to say this, but I have an early morning work thing,” you sigh. “I should probably be getting home.”

“Wanna go back to my car at the restaurant? I can drive you.”

“My place actually isn’t that far from here, I was thinking I might just walk… but then again,” you let out a laugh, “these heels are kind of killing my feet.”

“What if I carry you home?”

You pull away from his shoulder, giving him a doubtful look.

“You don’t think I can carry you?” Mingyu asks in shock.

“It’s not that-”

“Come on,” Mingyu gets to his feet. “Get on my back,  it will be fun, I promise.”

You give him another unsure look, but finally you stand too. Mingyu turns around, bending so you can jump onto his back. The moment you’re pressed against him, he feels like he’s in heaven. He can feel your breath along the back of his neck, and it sets every inch of him on fire.

“Hold on,” he tells you, enjoying the way you wrap your grip tighter around his broad shoulders, locking your fingers together by his chest.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you admit with a shaky laugh.

“You trusted me,” Mingyu says, “and I’m not going to let you down… until we get to your apartment.”

You giggle again, and the sound is music to his ears. 

“You’re crazy,” you tell him, and yet, your aura is buzzing so bright it nearly envelopes Mingyu with how tightly you’re pressed together.

“Something tells me you don’t mind.”

Four - the fuck up

“You know what you said about zones the other day?” Chan asks while he and Mingyu sit on the ledge of a tall building, looking down at the humans below.

“Yeah?”

“You said that cupids stick to their zones, right?”

“Yup.” Mingyu’s so annoyed by Chan he could scream. They’re supposed to be looking at auras, looking for a target for the day, but Chan’s head is off in the clouds-

“Okay, I just wanted to be sure.”

Mingyu lets out a deep breath, turning to look at Chan. “What was the point of those questions?”

“Just that… well, that’s Seokmin, isn’t it?” Chan points, and Mingyu follows his line of sight. Low and behold, Seokmin is flying two city blocks away, and it looks like he’s trailing something.

“We’re on the zone border,” Mingyu explains, but as he gets a bearing for the auras below, one stands out to him. “Shit.” 

“I didn’t know you could cuss, grandpa,” Chan laughs, but Mingyu’s already pushing off from the ledge, his large wings unfurrowing so they can beat at the air, carrying him quickly toward the other cupid, leaving Chan in his dust. “Wait! Slow down!”

But Mingyu can’t slow down, because if he’s correct, it looks like Seokmin is trailing a very familiar pink aura that weaves amongst the muted people below. 

Mingyu’s wings are large. They’re the largest of any of the cupids, and yet, as Seokmin draws his arrow, it’s clear that Mingyu’s superior size and speed won’t help him make it to his brother in time.

“Seokmin!” he yells, catching the man’s attention just as he lets his arrow fly.

Mingyu comes to a halt in the air, breath caught as he watches the arrow. It feels like everything is in slow motion, the arrow speeding through the sky toward you-

But then, it’s as if the arrow hits your aura and the pink hue acts as some sort of protective shield. The arrow falls to the ground, bursting into flower petals that melt away into the sidewalk.

“What the fuck?” Chan has caught up to Mingyu, and his words ring true to the situation. “Did Seokmin’s arrow just miss?”

“My arrows never miss!” Seokmin insists, fluttering over. 

“But that one did,” Chan points out.

Seokmin’s eyes are wide with shock. “It didn’t! It was going to hit her!”  

Chan rolls his eyes. “But it didn’t hit her!” 

Mingyu can’t even speak. His gaze is fixed on you. The arrow missed, but you’ve come to a stop in your tracks, as if you could sense the close call you’d just somehow evaded. 

“What are you two doing here anyways?” Seokmin glares. “You distracted me.”

“That’s Mingyu’s girl,” Chan responds nonchalantly.

“Who is?”

“The chick you just tried to shoot!” 

Mingyu respects that Chan is getting so worked up about this, it’s kind of like the new cupid is trying to protect Mingyu and his love life endeavors. 

“Wait, that’s the girl Mingyu likes?!” Seokmin bellows.

“That’s the girl he loves!” Chan insists. 

“Can you both just- be quiet for a minute!?” Mingyu can’t deal with their arguing anymore, not when you’re so much more interesting.

He watches you pull out your phone-

“Do arrows even work on her?” Chan asks. “We all saw that right? It like… bounced off her aura?”

“They should work on everyone,” Seokmin responds quietly. “I mean, your arrow worked on Mingyu, for Venus’s sake.”

Mingyu’s phone rings in his pocket, the pocket he’d had conjured into his toga just to hold a line of communication with you. The other cupids turn to watch Mingyu as he lifts the human device to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hey you.” Your voice is a little off. “You busy?”

“No,” Mingyu blurts out dumbly.

“Okay, good. Uh… I wasn’t sure if I should call or text-”

“Calling is good,” he assures you.

“That’s good to know.” You let out a small laugh, tucking in closer to the building and away from the busy street traffic. “It’s the weirdest thing, but you just popped into my mind. I guess, usually I let guys ask me out for a second date, and it’s only been two days since I saw you last, but I sort of just thought fuck it, I’d call you.”

Mingyu doesn’t even know how to respond. His mind is running a million miles a minute. 

“Mingyu?” you ask. “Are you still there?”

“Sorry, yeah.”

“So… do you want to see each other again?”

“Absolutely.” 

“Good!” 

Even from a distance, Mingyu can see the way you light up, the way your aura twinkles with pretty pinks and magentas. “When… when are you free?” he asks, dazzled dumb by your beauty.

“This sounds crazy, and I get it if you’re busy, but… are you around?”

“Yeah?”

“Could we meet in an hour?”

“Yeah, I’ll uh…” Mingyu has to physically give his head a shake to speak coherently, “I’ll come pick you up.”

“Can’t wait,” you smile. “Bye, Gyu.”

“Bye.”

You hang up, but Mingyu still feels frozen. It takes a moment before he’s able to pocket his phone.

“Dude, you’re still so lame when you speak to her,” Chan muses, nudging his mentor with a grin.

“We just watched her somehow block a cupid’s arrow,” Mingyu snaps, “excuse me for needing a minute.”

“Mingyu?” This time it’s Seokmin speaking, and Mingyu hates the way he immediately flashes a glare at his brother. “Sorry, it’s just… what’s that on your wrist?”

Five - the red string

Mingyu can’t seem to take his eyes off the red string around his wrist. He picks at the fine threads as he waits in his car for you to come down from your apartment. In fact, he’s so focused on the mysterious new bracelet that he forgets to get out of the vehicle to open your door for you.

When you open your own door it causes him to jump, heart lurching in fright- then he remembers where he is, and he’s quick to pull the sleeve of his sweater down, hiding the red string. “Hi,” he says, forcing a smile.

“You okay? I didn’t scare you, did I?” you grin, getting into the car.

“Sorry, I was just lost in thought. Where, uh… where do you wanna go today?”

“Well, I was going to let you choose, but I didn’t want to end up in a fancy restaurant again, so I was thinking something simple like coffee?”

“Coffee sounds nice,” Mingyu admits. “Any specific place you like?”

“There’s a cafe by the park we were at last time, I’ll give you directions.” You reach over, gently squeezing his thigh. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” he smiles, and this time, it’s not forced at all.

You make it to the cafe. After you order, Mingyu pays, and soon, the two of you are sitting in a cute little secluded booth in the corner. As you tell him about your day, Mingyu watches you take your jacket off. He admires your choice of clothes, the way the colours compliment your skin tone and the pretty pink aura you can’t even see. 

When you settle and reach for your tea, Mingyu notices something around your wrist, and he nearly chokes on his coffee. 

“You good?” you laugh, reaching out to touch his hand.

“Yeah.” Mingyu steadies himself. “Uh- what’s that red thread bracelet? I didn’t notice that on our last date.”

“Oh, this?” you look down at your wrist, lifting it a little. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“Trust me,” the cupid laughs, “nothing you say could ever make me think you’re crazy.”

You give him an assessing look, but finally give in with a sigh. “Okay, so basically, one of my close friends is a witch.”

“A witch?” 

“Still think I’m not crazy?”

“You’re not crazy, but I haven’t met this friend yet,” Mingyu teases.

“Anyways,” you take a deep breath, “she prays to Venus, and she swears on her life that Venus helped her meet her fiance. We had a bachelorette party about a week ago and she got all us bridesmaids these ‘Red Strings of Fate.’ It’s supposed to help us meet our own soulmates, or so she says.”

“Huh,” Mingyu sits back, resting his hands on the table. “I’ve never heard about ‘Red Strings of Fate.’” 

“Really? But… I mean,” your gaze dips down, “you’re wearing one too?”

Mingyu’s heart lurches, and he looks at his wrist, where the mysterious red string had appeared an hour ago. “Right…”

“Did you not know about that when you bought it? Or…?” You cock your head to the side, letting out a small laugh. “Honestly, when I saw you playing with that in the car when you picked me up, I’d kind of thought you’d gotten it to match mine.”

“I seriously didn’t even notice you had yours when we were on our last date,” Mingyu admits.

“Hmm…” Mingyu can see a glimmer of something behind your eyes, and then you grin broadly. “I guess maybe it’s just fate, huh?”

“Maybe,” Mingyu laughs.

“Where did you even gets yours?”

“It just kind of appeared,” Mingyu says honestly, only realizing what he’s said as the words leave his mouth.

“It just kind of appeared,” you repeat, looking very skeptical. Even so, you don’t question it, you simply lean back, your aura shimmering. “Guess it really is fate.”

Mingyu can’t even come up with anything else to say, so he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Listen…” you drum your fingers gently against the table, “I’ve been meaning to find a date for Luna’s wedding, but it can be hard to just run into someone you want to take to something like that. Then we quite literally ran into each other on the street, and now this whole string thing… if it’s not to soon, or too last minute, if you’d want to come to the wedding next week with me, I’d really appreciate the plus one.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu can’t believe his luck, can’t believe the cute determined set of your lips when you nod in the affirmative. “I’d love to go to this witch wedding with you.”

“As long as you don’t call her a witch to her face,” you laugh. “I think she prefers the term wicca.”

Mingyu makes a cross over his heart. “I won’t do anything to mess it up, I promise.”

Six - the consensus

The council is silent after Seokmin and Mingyu’s testaments on the oddities related to you. The younger cupids look to the elders to come up with a consensus, and Seungcheol is the first to finally speak. 

“An arrow that didn’t strike, a red string, and a girl who thinks she’s a witch.” He lets out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, Mingyu.”

Mingyu stays quiet, looking at his feet as he stands in the center of the council room, Seokmin and Chan on either side of him. 

For a new cupid who stands up to his mentor all the time, Chan is being oddly quiet today. He hasn’t said a word, not even when Seokmin and Mingyu were recounting the story of how your aura had seemingly repelled an arrow. Chan’s nervousness is making Mingyu even more anxious, although he’s not sure what he has to be anxious about.

“While I’m certain we all appreciate the report,” Jeonghan says, “this union between Mingyu and his human is ordained by Mother. There’s no use discussing this further.”

“She avoided an arrow. Aren’t you the least bit curious about how a mortal did that?” Wonwoo asks, leaning forward in his chair. It’s not usual for Wonwoo to speak, and the fact that he’s found this story of interest makes Mingyu’s skin tingle with more worry. 

Jeonghan makes a face, shaking his head. “No.” 

“I’m more focused on this witch,” Jihoon admits, trailing his fingers along his jaw. “Magic isn’t anything new, but I wonder if this friend’s ‘connection to Venus’ is what made our mother step in.”

“I’ve never heard of a ‘red string of fate,’” Soonyoung adds. “This all seems very suspicious. Chan, what do you think?”

Chan fidgets next to Mingyu. “Uh… me?”

“No, the other cupid named Chan.” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Yes, you!” 

“What do I think about what?” Chan asks dumbly.

Seungcheol sighs, Jeonghan snickers, and other cupids simply seem amused by the new cupid. 

“What do you think about all of this?” Soonyoung clarifies. “New age Venus witches and strings of fate?”

“I think…” Chan swallows, looking over at Mingyu. When he speaks again, Chan’s voice has gained confidence, and he squares his shoulders. “I think that this whole thing started when Jeonghan gave me mother’s directions to pair Mingyu up with the girl he’d been trying to match for a while. But even if I hadn’t been directed to do it, when I look at Mingyu and the human, their auras just match. I’ve never seen an aura like hers. The only aura close to it in colour is Mingyu’s. I don’t know anything about red strings of fate or witches, but I do know that nothing bad could come out of a match like this one. Or at least, that’s what my heart is telling me.”

The council is silent while they process the new cupid’s words. Mingyu can feel a warmth spreading through his chest. For a dude who’s been nothing but an annoyance and hindrance so far, Chan is growing on Mingyu.

“Chan’s right,” Seokmin says. “Her aura is just like Mingyu’s. If anyone deserves a chance to fall in love, it’s them.”

“When did you all become so sentimental,” Jihoon groans, but there’s something of a smirk under his unamused expression.

“Seokmin,” Seungcheol’s voice draws all eyes, “since you dragged yourself into this, I want you to go with Chan and Mingyu to the wedding. I trust your opinion more than Chan’s. And Mingyu, see what information you can get from the witch. Even if this is all orchestrated by mother, I want to know the ins and outs of what power this wicca believes she has.”

Seven - the witch’s wedding

Mingyu hadn’t realized that being a plus one to someone in the wedding party meant that he’d be sitting alone in the venue while waiting for the bride to walk down the aisle. He doesn’t know anyone here except for Chan and Seokmin, who are floating around eying up the singletons. Mingyu had made them promise not to shoot too many people today, but there’s already been two meet-cutes and successful matches.

The love cupid is somewhat jealous of his brothers’ ability to work, their ability to form attachments while he’s made to sit and wait. To clear his mind, he fidgets with the red string on his wrist, hidden under his suit.

The red string has become somewhat of a soothing mechanism for the cupid. It feels tangible, in an odd sort of way. He enjoys the feeling as he gently drags it across his skin, looping it over and over again-

Music begins to play through the speakers, guests turn in their seats. A young flower girl walks up the aisle, the petals she’s tossing match the soft pink dress she’s wearing, and the tie around Mingyu’s neck. You’d shown up with the fabric when he’d come to pick you up, bashfully asking him if he wanted to match with you and the bridal party. 

It was a small exchange, but it had meant the world to Mingyu. He loves the fact that he’s matching with you and your friends, loves the fact that the bride had chosen soft pink as one of the color themes. 

After the flower girl, the bridesmaids begin to file in, arm in arm with groomsmen. Mingyu studies the auras, noting that many of the people in the party have pink tones to match their outfits. He likes seeing so many pinks in one area, it’s no wonder you talk so highly of your friends, you’re all pieces torn from the same cloth. Like him.

You step into view, and Mingyu can feel his heart beginning to race. You look stunning today, even more so than usual. The joy you feel radiates off of you, illuminating your aura with shimmery glitter. 

When you walk by, you meet Mingyu’s gaze, and he feels his grin widening. All the waiting has been worth it if even for that one smile, the brief eye contact-

Venus, he loves you.

Everyone stands when the bride enters. She’s dressed in a white laced gown, with flowers in her hair, and pretty rose quartz jewelry. There’s definitely something different about her, a richness and vibrancy to her aura that screams power. 

To Mingyu’s surprise, the bride meets his eyes as she walks past, offering a small tilt to her head before she continues up the aisle. 

Mingyu thinks about the small motion from the bride throughout the ceremony. 

He hasn’t met a real witch since the dark ages. People with a true connection to the gods are few and far in between these days. Mingyu wonders what kind of power your friend holds, and what it means in regard to him and the other cupids floating around.

Even with all these wonderings, Mingyu focuses on the example of love set before him. He listens to the vows, and the grandma next to him offers him tissues to wipe away his tears. The first kiss as man and wife makes Mingyu want to cheer with joy, his heart practically exploding in his chest.

He loves love. 

When the bride and groom exit, you stand by the podium, explaining that the reception will take place in a venue two doors down from the ceremony hall. Mingyu watches you hurry out after the bride before he slowly dispurses with the rest of the guests, the kind grandma who had given him tissues latched to his arm for support.

He’s unsure of himself when he reaches the reception. There’s an entryway station that details table arrangements. “What’s your name dear?” the grandma next to him asks, adjusting some glasses on the tip of her nose.

“I don’t think I’m on the list,” Mingyu admits, scanning the seating cards. 

He tells the old woman your name and she gives him an amused look. “A plus one to the bridal party,” she nods. “Table one.”

“And where are you seated?” the cupid asks. “I’ll help you there.”

After doing his duty with the old woman, Mingyu finds himself at a table full of pink-souled love birds. They’re all gushing about the ceremony, and are more than happy to welcome the cupid into the discussion. Mingyu’s never felt so immediately at ease, and you find him this way, laughing with his new group of love-obsessed peers. 

“Hi,” you whisper, slipping into the seat next to him. 

“Hey,” he smiles, about to turn and look at you- only for your lips to press to his cheek. Mingyu’s heart lurches in his chest, his body freezing for a moment before he’s able to look into your eyes. “What was that for?”

“I’m just happy you came,” you admit. 

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” Mingyu retorts, and he really does mean it.

Being with you is so easy. He’d fallen for your pink vibration, and now he’s falling for the auras that your friends exude too. 

Before Mingyu even knows it, your table is being called up for food. He sticks to your side like glue as you fill your plates, and when you begin to head back to sit down, the bride waves you over. Mingyu sticks to you even as you approach your friend, who stands from the newly wed table with a grin.

“So this must be the famous Mingyu I’ve heard so much about.” The witch grins. “I’m Luna.”

She holds out a hand, and Mingyu doesn’t even hesitate to take it. There’s an immediate jolt of energy that runs through him when their skin touch, and he swallows the lump in his throat. Luna meets his gaze with a steady smile.

“Y/N, would you be so kind as to get me a glass of wine from the open bar?” Luna asks.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” You squeeze Mingyu’s arm before darting away.

The cupid opens his mouth to say something, only for Luna to cut him off. “I can see your wings.”

“What?” Mingyu nearly chokes on air.

“And your friends flying around,” Luna’s gaze lifts, trailing Chan as he soars over the dance floor. “Three cupids, and yet you’re the only one with a vibrant pink aura. It’s the pretties I’ve ever seen, aside from Y/N’s, of course.”

“You really can see us,” Mingyu breathes. “My brothers, my wings, my aura-”

“I bet you thought I wasn’t a real witch, didn’t you, big guy?” Luna laughs.

“I mean…” Mingyu can’t even meet her eyes now, especially since she’s just used your petname for him. “Yeah. I didn’t think you were real.”

“Most people don’t think you’re real,” the witch retorts. “Cupids? In twenty twenty four? It’s kind of shocking, not to mention outdated.”

“We’re not outdated,” Mingyu goes to defend himself, but the look Luna shoots him makes his voice catch in his throat. 

“My first fiance was a bad match,” Luna says, capturing Mingyu’s full attention with the power of her tone. “Some white haired cupid shot me. I guess he figured I had a pink soul and this man had a red one so we’d even out. But we never did. It was bad. So bad that I started praying to Venus. When I got away from the guy, I was determined to find my next partner all by myself. A match based on actual connection. That’s how I met Jae.” Her gaze floats to her new husband, and an expression of love fills her features, her aura shimmering. “Listen. I know that you cupids try to do what you believe is right, but your matches don’t always work. That’s why I gave all my friends red strings of fate. To protect them from bad arrows… although, based off of the way you look at y/n, I’m pretty sure it’s not her who’s been shot.”

Mingyu can feel a lump in his throat. He can also feel a presence at his shoulder, and Chan leans forward to whisper, “Damn, dude, she read you for filth.”

Luna grins, looking at the new cupid behind Mingyu. “Stop shooting my guests.”

“You got it,” Chan agrees immediately. 

“Look, we don’t have much time,” Luna sighs, “but what’s the deal with this whole thing. How did you even get shot? Are you guys drinking on the job, or what?”

“Actually, Venus herself instructed I shoot Mingyu and make him fall for your friend,” Chan defends himself. “Although, he was pretty much already in love with her anyways.”

Luna’s eyes widen in shock. “Venus did this?” 

“Indirectly,” Chan nods.

“I don’t trust you guys, but I trust her,” the witch states. “I prayed to her that my friends find their soulmates, and now here you are.”

Could this really all be the witch’s doing?

Mingyu can hardly even think, he can only stand there dumbly, staring at Luna like she’s grown three extra heads and a beaver tail. 

“You have to tell y/n,” Luna says, reaching out to touch Mingyu’s shoulder. “You can’t lie to her about all of this.”

“I can’t tell her-” Mingyu tries to argue, but once more, his tongue gets caught.

“You will. And we’ll hang out again soon,” Luna insists, sounding so certain that for a moment, Mingyu wonders if she has the gift of future sight.

“Hey, you two,” you appear at Mingyu’s side, holding out a glass for the bride. “What did I miss?”

“Just your new boo being adorable,” Luna grins. “He’s a keeper, this one.”

“What?” You let out a laugh, looking between Mingyu and your best friend. “But… you usually hate the guys I go out with!”

“Well, I like Mingyu,” Luna shrugs. “Something tells me he’ll be around for a long time.”

With a lift of her glass, the witch goes to sit down with her husband again, leaving you and Mingyu shocked. As you head back to your table, you cling tight to his side. “What did you even say to her?” you whisper.

“I hardly said anything,” Mingyu admits.

“Was it an aura thing? Luna always says she can read auras-”

Mingyu nearly chokes on air and it makes you grip his arm tighter.

“It was an aura thing, wasn’t it?”

“Something like that.” Mingyu doesn’t want to get into auras with you. The witch had been pretty specific about him coming clean to you, but now is definitely not the right time. 

He’s very lucky that when you take your seats, a few of your friends immediately strike up a conversation. Mingyu hides behind the discussion, staying in the peripheries while he contemplates what his life has become.

Eight - the time to come clean

If Mingyu had been obsessed with you before the wedding, things are now on an entire other level. After his run in with the witch, you’d invited Mingyu to come dance with you. Holding you close while a slow song played had made the cupid feel in a way he’s never felt. Then, when he’d taken you home, you’d kissed him at your door step.

He can still feel the ghost of your lips pressing across his own, and when he closes his eyes, he can imagine you’re still there with him. 

It’s been a distraction to say the least. Two days have gone by since that night, with you running through his mind like an olympic level track star. 

You’d invited him to come for a date at your place, offered to cook dinner, and Mingyu’s been practically holding his breath in anticipation.

He fiddles with the string around his wrist as he approaches your home, knocking lightly on the door. His breathing is shallow, and he gnaws on his lower lip while he waits.

Mingyu can’t even help himself when you open your door, he pulls you into an immediate hug, breathing in your scent and letting out a deep breath.

“Hey, big guy,” you laugh, cuddling closer, tucking your head under his chin. 

“Missed you,” Mingyu admits.

Your giggling continues. “Luna was right about you being a keeper, mister softie.”

You invite him into your home, giving Mingyu a tour. It’s hard for him to keep his focus on anything you’re saying though. You look adorably comfortable in your cute sweatpant outfit. He’s never seen you laid back like this before, and it feels like an honour that you’re trusting enough of him now to let him witness this side of you.

Soon, he finds himself in your kitchen, doing everything he can to help you prep the meal. 

If you’re the head chef, he’ll be your line cook, and be damned happy to do it.

Talking to you is just so easy these days, especially since Mingyu can monitor your aura to pick up on the topics that truly make your heart sing. He sticks to your hobbies, your friends, things that have you glowing. He enjoys when you ramble on, as it gives him a chance to stare at your lips and imagine them on his own once again.

After dinner, Mingyu treads carefully. He’s very conscious of the fact that he’s in your home, and he’d never want to overstep anything with you.

When you invite him to watch a movie, he sits a respectable distance, but when you ask him if he wants to cuddle, Mingyu can feel his resolve getting thin. 

He shuffles over to be the big spoon, watching you carefully get in position in front of him. You snuggle back, your bum brushing by the front of his blue jeans, and Mingyu’s breath catches. His hand finds your hip, keeping you still.

You look over your shoulder at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He swallows thickly. “I just uh… it’s nothing.”

There’s a knowing in your eyes, and your aura glimmers with a mischievous tint that Mingyu usually sees with Soonyoung and Jeonghan. 

You roll over,  facing Mingyu. Your gaze dips to his lips then back up again. “I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu’s voice cracks. “Thinking about what?”

“That wedding date was really nice,” you muse, reaching up to trace your finger along his jaw. “I asked a lot of you when I invited you to that, but you came through for me. Luna even likes you, and I don’t think you understand how rare that is.”

“I’m more than willing to please,” Mingyu admits.

“Oh, trust me, I know you are.” You let out a giggle, your aura practically humming with happiness. “I’ve also been thinking about that kiss.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah?” Your grin widens, and you tuck in closer to his chest.

“Can I… do you want me to kiss you again?”

“Mingyu,” you coo, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The cupid takes in a shaky breath, cupping your cheek and staring into your eyes before he closes the distance between your lips. The first kiss had been soft, and this one is just as gentle, however, as you slant your mouth against his own, it begins to last much longer than the first one had. 

You let out a small sigh, grabbing at the front of his shirt to drag yourself even closer. Your tongue darts out to lick at his lip and it makes Mingyu groan. His hand slips down to your hip, then the small of your back, pulling you the last few inches so you’re pressed to his chest.

Nothing has ever felt this good.

Mingyu’s spent his whole life matching humans, but now to be matched himself- there’s truly nothing like it in the whole world.

He gets lost in your lips, the way you let out more whimpers. He commits your sounds to memory, his fingers gently pressing at your skin. He’s doing his best not to be overbearing, he wants you to have all the control, and yet, he hopes it’s clear how much he wants you… how much he needs you, like the air he needs to breathe. 

Luckily for Mingyu, you don’t mind taking a bit of control. With an annoyed groan, you move to straddle him, forcing Mingyu onto his back while your knees press into the couch on either side of his hips.

Your hands find his chest, and you stare down at him.

You’re so beautiful it almost hurts.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

Mingyu can hardly find his voice, but he manages to let out a choked, “Yeah.”

You lean down, pressing your lips against him again. Your tongue tastes his own, and as he’s leaning up to deepen the kiss, you pull away. Your hand finds his jaw, pushing his head to the side so you can access his throat, where you pepper his skin. You lick at sensitive spots that have him shivering, grabbing at the couch for any grip that can keep him from floating away from how good this feels. 

Mingyu knows where this is going. He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, which presses up against blue denim. He can even feel the heat between your own legs, an unspoken need that’s only building with each passing second.

His heart thunders in his chest. He hates to do it, but he whispers your name, prompting you to slow down your movements.

“Yes, Gyu?”

“I need…” he swallows thickly, closing his eyes in concentration. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is now the right time?” you giggle, licking his sweet spot and making a shiver run through his entire form.

“I can’t- I can’t do this without telling you everything about myself.”

“Sounds serious.” You pull away, sitting up so you can look down at him with a frown. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m uh… really okay.” Mingyu does his best to steady his breathing, but with the view in front of him, it’s difficult. “I don’t even know how to tell you what I need to tell you.”

“Take your time,” you assure him, pressing your hand gently to his chest, palm over his heart. “I won’t judge you.”

“It’s not about judgment,” Mingyu sighs, placing his hand over your own. “I don’t know if you’ll even believe me. You’ll think I’m crazy or something.”

“Try me.”

Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I told you I’m a match maker.”

“Uh huh.”

“And that’s true- but… I didn’t tell you the extent of it.”

“The extent of it,” you repeat, and Mingyu can see you trying to figure out where he’s going with this.

“I really don’t know how to say this with you looking at me with your pretty eyes,” Mingyu groans.

“Here.” You lift your free hand, covering your face. “Is this easier?” your words are slightly muffled by your palm, and the goofiness of it immediately relaxes Mingyu.

“Actually, yes.” He can’t help but giggle, and you join in with him while he takes the moment to ground himself. “Okay so basically…” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I’m a cupid.”

“Huh?” You still have your hand over your face, but it’s clear you’ve furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Luna can verify it. She’s a real witch, which…I was honestly kind of shocked at, and I’m a cupid, so if you don’t believe me about this, I get it, I really do. Listen- I was trying to match you with someone, and I just couldn’t do it. Then a cupid I was training shot me while I was looking at you, and long story short, Luna has a connection to Venus or something and Venus thought it would be a good idea if one of her sons actually fell in love, and now here I am, and it’s a mess, but… yeah.”

You’re quiet for a long moment. Your aura flutters with mixed emotions, and it makes Mingyu’s stomach twist into knots about how you’ll react.

“Can I look at you?” you ask finally.

“Sure.”

You remove your hands from your eyes, gnawing on your lip and tilting your head while you study him. “I want to see your wings.”

“You what?”

“If you want me to believe you, I think I should see your wings. You’re a cupid, right? So you must have wings?”

Mingyu considers it a for a moment. He’s never shown a human his wings before, but he’s also never fallen in love with one either. He lets out a deep breath. “Okay, but I have to be on top to show you.”

You’re quick to agree, and after a short shuffle, Mingyu finds himself kneeling between your thighs. You’re resting on your back, propped against a pillow, and you’re watching him carefully.

“I’m gonna take my shirt off,” he warns you, grabbing at the hem of his white v-neck.

You stay quiet, eyes taking in each inch of exposed skin as Mingyu slowly strips his torso bare. 

“I should tell you… I’ve been in human form when I’m with you. But when I show you my wings- when I go full cupid, you might not be able to resist me.”

You rake your gaze across his sculpted chest, enjoying the tanned skin, pretty pectoral muscles and washboard abs. “I’ve hardly been able to resist you like this,” you muse. “Dazzle me, Mingyu. I’m ready.”

The cupid takes a deep breath. When he exhales, he lets go of the walls he’s built up. He allows his full self to come into form, his large white wings taking shape behind him. When he’s human, he kind of forgets about the wings, they’re always with him, just not always physical. Now that they’re out, he can feel the temperature of your apartment, the slight cool sensation against his sensitive feathers.

Mingyu can’t help but stretch the appendages, allowing his full wing span to protrude outward from his back.

He hears a small squeak of surprise that escapes your lips, and you sit up immediately, clearly wanting a better look at the marvelous wings.

“Are you sure you’re a cupid and not an angel?” you ask, your gaze meeting his as your fingers extend to hook in the waistline of his jeans.

“I can be anything you want me to be,” Mingyu whispers.

You lick your lips, eying his wings again. “Are they sensitive?”

“More than you can imagine.”

“Can I… Can I touch?”

Mingyu stares at you for a second. No hands but his own have ever touched his wings. Cupid wings are sacred, like their bows and arrows. Mingyu doesn’t touch his brothers’ sacred things, and they don’t touch his.

But you’re not one of his brothers.

He slowly nods. He can’t find it within himself to give you a verbal confirmation, not when he holds his breath waiting for contact.

“I’ll be gentle,” you promise. It’s almost as if you can sense his hesitancy about this- although, from the tense way Mingyu’s holding his body, he supposes it’s no secret.

As one final show of trust, Mingyu adjusts his right wing, folding it around his body so you don’t have to reach so far. He watches you close the distance between your fingers and the white feathers.

When your digits make contact, a shiver runs through him. You’re quick to pull your hand away, eyes widening. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” Mingyu shakes his head, catching his breath. “I just… no one has ever touched my wings.”

“You really weren’t kidding when you said you haven’t dated a lot.”

“I’ve never dated,” Mingyu corrects the white lie from when he’d first met you. 

“Never?”

“Never,” the cupid confirms. “I’ve had… interactions with other immortals, but I never let them see my wings. You’re the first human to ever see me. Like this, and in all ways.”

Your aura beats with adoration for him, and the emotion written across your face doesn’t need to be said. 

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips press against yours. 

Mingyu flattens a palm against the arm of your couch to steady himself, half leaning over your form while the kiss deepens. 

You trail your hand from his neck to his shoulder, moving slowly and gently, another wordless communication. 

When you touch his wing again, it’s not sudden, instead, it’s anticipated, and Mingyu can’t help the groan of pleasure that escapes him.

Your fingers glide over a feather, tracing it. When you repeat the motion, Mingyu thinks he might faint from how good it feels.

“Oh my Gods,” Mingyu whimpers, breaking the kiss to pant heavily against your neck while you trail your lips along his cheek bone.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, big guy?”

“So good,” he admits, his jeans feeling painfully tight now.

It’s as if you can read him. As if he’s a book that you’ve memorized, dog earring your favourite things. Each touch has him enthralled by you, and each touch is perfection.

You drag your free hand along his chest, moving down-

His breath catches when you cup him through his jeans.

He must be as hard as a rock, and you trace the outline of his bulge, teasing your digits along the tip.

“Please-” Mingyu groans, hips thrusting of their own accord, looking for any friction he can find while you continue to stroke his wing.

“Tell me what you need,” you encourage him, applying more pressure to his cock. 

“I need…” the cupid’s throat tightens and the words get caught. There are so many things he needs, he just doesn’t know where to start. Mingyu takes a deep breath, smelling your growing scent of arousal. When he looks down, your aura is practically pulsing between your legs, and it draws all his attention. He licks his lips, feeling confident this time when he says, “I need to taste you.” 

“Then taste me,” you practically purr. 

Mingyu’s had his fair share of one night stands with sirens and demi gods and other beings of the like- he knows what he’s doing as he gets off the couch and sinks to his knees. 

He grabs at you, man handling you into a position that works for him before tugging off your sweat pants.

You release a giggle, leaning back against the couch cushions while he spreads your thighs. Mingyu looks up at you, meeting your gaze as he begins to kiss up your legs, taking his time to pepper your skin.

That pretty pink aura practically blinds him as he works his way closer and closer to where you need him most. He can see a wet patch along the fabric of your panties, and he can’t help but spread your legs open even more, leaning forward to press a kiss to your clit through the silky material.

You let out a sigh of happiness as Mingyu begins to lick and prod your panty clad core. He can taste you along the fabric and it’s driving him insane. 

His fingers squeeze your thighs, and he allows you to adjust one over his shoulder- then your toes brush past the base of his wing, causing him to moan loudly. You shiver from the vibrations of it, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

He eats you through your panties until you’re bucking against his face- until his cock is throbbing so hard he physically can’t wait any longer. 

Hooking his fingers in the fabric, he tugs your underwear down your legs, and then he’s burying his tongue in your core.

You release a squeal of delight, tightening your grip in his hair. You pull him even closer, wrapping your legs around his head as he licks your pussy like he’s never licked anything in his entire life.

The sounds you’re making now are better than all the angel songs Mingyu’s ever heard. He could listen to you whine and moan for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, just like that, oh my God- Gyu-” 

He wraps his lips around your clit and you whimper, pussy beginning to throb in preparation for the orgasm Mingyu can’t wait to drag out of you.

Your fingers tug on his hair, and the pain only makes him go harder. He sucks hard on your sensitive bud, flicking at it and groaning at your taste.

Mingyu’s eaten fruit from the Garden of Eden. He’s eaten fairy nectar and every mystical delicacy he could get his hands on. But nothing - nothing - has ever tasted the way you do. 

He could get drunk from your pussy- in fact, he already is. 

His mind is going hazy, words are losing their meaning. It’s as animalistic as Mingyu’s ever felt, he has two goals: the first, to make you cum harder than you ever have, and the second, to do it again, but with his cock.

“I’m gonna-” you whimper, rutting against his face. “Please, don’t stop-”

Your sounds get pitchier and pitchier until you let out a gasp. Your pussy clenches around nothing while he sucks on your clit, intent on drawing out your orgasm.

You begin to squirm and he holds you down with both hands, eating you out until you’re a moaning, shaking mess. 

When your grip loosens on his hair, he pulls away, looking up at you.

You’re an absolute vision. Your chest is heaving under your shirt, your lips puffy from kissing and biting. Your eyes are closed, head thrown back, body still twitching.

Mingyu wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, standing up. He undoes his jeans, pausing for a moment before pushing them down. “Still want this?” he clarifies.

You open your eyes, looking up at him with the most fucked out expression he’s ever seen. “If you don’t fuck me, so help me God, I’ll get Luna to cast a spell on you.”

Mingyu can only laugh. “Like… a love spell?” Mingyu asks as he pushes his pants and underwear down. “Because trust me, nothing in the world could make me more into you than I already am.”

“Is that so?” you grin, pulling off your shirt to join him in nudity.

“Uh huh. Which is why I can’t fuck you on this couch.” Mingyu reaches down, scooping you up into his arms. “Which way’s the bedroom?”

“Last door on the left down the hall,” you sigh, tucking close to his chest. 

You pepper his throat in kisses the entire way to your room, where Mingyu gently sets you onto the bed.

“Do we… should we use protection?” you ask.

Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “I can conjure my bow and arrow-”

You let out a laugh, your aura glimmering with amusement. “No, silly, I mean like condoms.”

“Oh…” Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Should we?”

“I mean… I’m on birth control…” you look him up and down. “Your magic cupid cock isn’t gonna outsmart the pill, is it?”

“That’s a good question.” Mingyu looks down at his rock hard length, wrapping a hand around it to relieve some of the pressure there.

“You know what? Fuck it.” You hold your arms open for him. “Just get inside of me.”

Mingyu laughs, getting onto the bed. He holds himself over you with an elbow pressed to the mattress, his free palm finding your abdomen. “I should work you open a little first,” he tells you, pressing his lips to your own. 

“I don’t mind a little pain.” You reach for his cock, stroking the precum on the tip and tracing the length of it.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Mingyu admits. “Ever.”

You don’t respond, you simply kiss him deeper. Mingyu takes this as a confirmation to drag his fingers down to your core. He starts with his middle digit, teasingly pushing it in and out of your wet hole.

You pump his cock while he works you open, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep him on the edge. He adds a second finger and you mewl desperately against his lips, hips rutting to match his pace.

You’re practically drenching his hand. At this point, he knows you could take him- he just wants to see how much you’ll allow before your beg for it. 

Mingyu loves playing with you like this. He enjoys the act of love making, and he’s in no rush- although, his cock is starting to be something near painful with the amount of blood that has him standing at attention.

“Gyu…” you whimper, pumping him even harder. 

It’s clear you’re about to beg- but he can’t stand to actually have you do it. He gives in immediately, pulling his fingers from your core. He brushes your hand away from his length, lining himself up with your pussy.

Mingyu presses his lips to yours as he pushes inside, moving slowly so you can adjust to inch after inch of his girthy cock.

You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself, gently digging your nails into his skin. No matter how hard you try, Mingyu doubts you could actually draw blood, and what might be painful to a human is nothing more than an annoying tingle, but it’s hardly a distraction from the feeling of your pussy swollowing him up.

He can’t help the groans that leave him as he kisses you, finally flush with your body. Your walls throb around him, adjusting to the intrusion. 

“Mingyu,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “Please-”

He begins slowly. Mingyu’s not sure how fragile humans truly are, and he doesn’t want to fuck you so hard that your back breaks. Instead, he takes his time, adding more and more speed and power. He notes your reactions, notes what makes you squeal.

When he’s satisfied with a particular whimper, he stays doing what motion had earned the sound. The whole bed is rocking from his thrusts, and you’ve turned into a moaning mess for him again- but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Shit, you’re so good-” you gasp, breaking the kiss to lick at his throat, circling his sweet spot while he fucks you into the mattress.

Mingyu can’t help himself, he grabs one of your hands, lacing your fingers as he fucks you. There’s something intimate about the hand holding- and when he looks up, he realizes it’s the hands that have red strings on their wrists. 

However, as he fucks you even faster, he notices the strings aren’t simply their own bracelets anymore- they’re somehow intertwined. 

Mingyu can’t bring himself to think about it too hard, not when your wriggling under him, your wet pussy engulfing him with each thrust-

Your free hand reaches around his back, fingers brushing over a feather, and Mingyu almost cums right then and there.

“Fuck-” he whimpers. “If you do that again, I’m gonna-”

“Cum with me,” you whisper. “Please, I’m so close- if you fill me up, I just know I’ll get there.” 

You stroke another feather and Mingyu’s entire body twitches, his muscles tensing with pleasure. 

“Please, Mingyu!”

You’re on the verge of tears, and when Mingyu looks down at you, he’s completely overtaken by how much you’re glowing. He’s never seen a human aura glow like yours- and now, you look absolutely godly beneath him.

One more stroke of his feathers has Mingyu groaning loudly. He buries his face in your neck, squeezing your hand as he pushes his cock as deep inside of you as it can go. He can feel each heavy beat of his heart as he fills you with rope upon rope of cum-

Your pussy clenches tightly around him, and from the way you’re moaning in his ear, he knows you’ve reached your high too.

All you can do is hold each other, breathing each other in while you get lost in a pleasure that could never be topped. 

He’s in love with you, body and soul.

Mingyu’s not sure how long he cums, all he knows is that he’s practically spent as he comes down from the high. He’s breathing heavily, you both are, and he stays on top of you while you ground yourselves again.

You begin to stroke the back of his neck, and Mingyu takes this as a cue to put some distance between your chests so he can get a good look at you.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Better than okay,” you muse with a lazy grin. “And Gyu?”

“Yeah?”

“As crazy as this is… I love you too.”

It takes a moment for Mingyu to realize what you’re saying, because he hasn’t directly said those words- and yet, he’d betrayed himself multiple times without even realizing it. He’d mentioned getting shot with an arrow, Venus wanting a son to fall in love. He’d even said that no love potion could make his feelings stronger than they already are. 

Mingyu had been so lost in you that he hadn’t even known that all of his walls had come crumbling down. 

There’s no secret he’ll ever be able to keep from you, and that’s clear now.

But there’s no secret he’d ever want to keep from you.

You’re his other half. His pink aura baby. And staring down at you in the aftermaths of the best sex of his life, Mingyu knows that whatever happens, you’ll be his soulmate till the day he ceases to exist.

Nine - the note

Hi, gorgeous. I’m sorry you have to wake up alone. Duty calls. I’ve got council meetings this morning that I can’t miss. But we’re connected now. One tug on your red string and I’ll know you’re trying to connect. There’s no where in your world or mine that I could go where you can’t reach me. I love you. I’m here for the long run. If you want, I can see you tonight. Give the string three tugs anytime after noon, and I’ll be there faster than you can even imagine.

Hugs & kisses

Love,

Cupid

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! Happy (belated) Valentine's Day to all us Gyu obsessed hotties

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🔮 preview. You’re practically drooling as Mingyu shrugs the fabric off of his body, revealing a form that was literally sculpted by the Gods. You could stare at him forever and never get bored. He’s the sexiest person you’ve ever seen in your entire life, and as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, earning a loud groan, you know that he’s all yours.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu loves pussy, oral (m/f receiving), big dick Mingyu, pussy eating, blow job, hand job, deep throating, face fucking, touching cupid wings as a sexual stimulus, female masturbation while giving a blow job, fingering, squirting, pussy stretching, praise, etc…   I petnames. (hers) gorgeous. (his) big guy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s Valentine’s Day and you wake up alone, and yet, you don’t really mind.

In the few months you’ve been dating your Cupid, he’s stepped up his game when it comes to checking in on the matches he’s made. As he’s become closer with Luna, and heard her failed love story, Mingyu’s been increasingly diligent on all things human relations.

He’s left a note for you on your pillow, as he does every morning he has to work instead of waking up with you. 

You read it with a smile, enjoying all the hearts he’s drawn across the lined paper. 

You don’t mind spending the first part of your Valentine’s Day alone. Three rough tugs on the string around your wrist would draw your lover back, but you figure his job is important today of all days.

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[hotshotsxyz]

this town is only gonna eat you

(buddie) (s8 spec) (1.1k) already wrote some buck-gets-hit-by-a-car spec, so how about some buck-gets-shot? kept thinking about "take eddie [to the laker's game] and die" and uh... here we are. cw: mass shooting/ gun violence (described vaguely), somewhat graphic description of a bullet wound, blood edit: now featuring a companion piece

Buck is smiling when it happens. Grinning at Eddie like he hung the fucking moon as he points out what must be the hundredth interesting play he’s seen on the court tonight. Buck’s smiling.

Eddie registers the screams before the gunfire. He smells the metallic scent of spent shell casings before he sees the shooter. He tackles Buck to the ground before he realizes he’s already hurt.

Buck was smiling, but now his face is inches from Eddie’s and his eyes are wide with pain and panic.

“Eds,” he says, and it’s barely above a whisper but it’s still too loud.

Eddie shakes his head, a tiny, sharp movement. Buck takes a shaky breath and presses his lips together. He understands. Eddie hates that he understands. Thank God he understands.

There’s something warm and wet slowly spreading between them, and it takes Eddie several wasted seconds to realize it’s blood. He’s almost completely certain it isn’t his, which—

God, that’s so much worse than if it was.

One of Eddie’s hands is still cradling Buck’s head, an instinctive act of protection before they hit the ground. With the other, Eddie slowly begins feeling his way around Buck’s abdomen. His fingers brush against torn fabric and he feels nauseous.

I’m sorry, he mouths before pressing down hard.

Buck gasps in pain. A muscle in his jaw ticks with the effort it must take him to keep from screaming.

“You’re doing so good,” Eddie breathes into Buck’s ear. “I’ve got you; I promise.”

The bullet caught him somewhere along the fifth intercostal space on the right side of his chest. Eddie doesn’t have a way to feel for an exit wound, not without letting up pressure on what he knows is there.

At best, the bullet glanced off a rib and tore through nothing but skin and muscle. At worst…

At worst, Buck is dying beneath him and there’s not a damn thing Eddie can do, not until the shooter is dead or gone. All Eddie can do is pray. Pray and hope like hell that God has forgiven him for his incomplete confession.

Another spray of gunfire echoes through the arena. It’s nearly impossible to identify where it’s coming from, but Eddie’s got a vague idea based on the direction people seem to be running in.

Buck takes a ragged, watery breath.

For the first time in his life, Eddie hopes he’s crying. He draws back, just far enough to look Buck in his eyes. His eyes, which are clouded over in pain but free from tears.

Fuck, fucking goddamn it.

Eddie presses his cheek against Buck’s.

“Slow, steady breaths, okay?” he whispers. “You have to breathe through it, even if it feels like you can’t.”

The tiniest whimper escapes Buck’s chest.

“You have to, Buck, I can’t—” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shuddering breath. “I just need you to hold on,” he begs.

A single shot rings out, and nearby, something falls to the ground with a dull thump.

“Suspect is down!” someone shouts. “We’re clear for EMS.”

Eddie carefully extricates his hand from behind Buck’s head. “Hear that? We’re so close, Buck.” He brushes a thumb across his cheekbone, then sits up and raises his hand in the air. “Over here!” he shouts. “I’ve got a penetrating chest wound that needs to be on the first ambo out of here!”

Buck’s eyelashes flutter as he fights to stay conscious.

“Come on, eyes on me,” Eddie says.

With his free hand and his teeth, he tears a strip of fabric from his shirt to wad up and press into Buck’s wound.  The skin there is ragged and torn, almost certainly an exit wound. Eddie curses.

“I need EMS now!” Eddie roars, not tearing his eyes away from Buck for even a second.

“I’m coming to you!” someone calls back.

Buck’s eyes slip shut.

“No!” Eddie commands, rubbing his knuckles across Buck’s sternum. “You’re staying right here with me, you got it?”

Buck groans weakly. His eyes flick back open.

“That’s perfect, you’re perfect,” Eddie babbles. “Just keep—c’mon, Buck, just keep fighting. I need—you have to be okay.”

Buck’s lips part. “Hurt,” he breathes.

“I know,” Eddie says desperately, “I know it hurts, I’m sorry.”

A pained sound falls from Buck’s lips. He lifts one of his hands just high enough to ghost his fingers along the ruined hem of Eddie’s shirt.

Behind him, Eddie hears a gurney roll to a stop.

“Here!”

Eddie turns and find a young woman, no more than twenty years old, wearing a polo that declares her part of a private ambulance service. He doubts she’d weigh even a hundred pounds soaking wet.

“Alright,” he says, turning back to Buck. “I’m going to get you onto that gurney. Let me do all the work, okay?”

Buck’s eyes widen. He makes a strangled sound. “Hurt,” he coughs out again, fingers scrambling uselessly against the concrete floor of the arena.

“They’re gonna give you the good stuff at the hospital,” Eddie reassures. He lets go of Buck’s wound and pulls him into a seated position, then rolls him awkwardly onto his back. “I got you,” he says as he stands.

Eddie staggers beneath Buck’s weight but manages to get him down three rows worth of steps and onto the gurney without the young EMT’s help.

“We’re staged just outside the north entrance,” she says as she begins to push Buck toward a set of doors.

Eddie nods sharply. “He’s got a perforating chest wound, probable pulmonary laceration, and a history of pulmonary embolism. Allergic to naproxen,” he rattles off as he pushes the gurney alongside her.

“Um, okay, that’s—are you a doctor or something?” she asks.

“Firefighter,” Eddie corrects. “We both are.”

The closer they get to the exit, the harder Eddie has to work to keep pace with the EMT. He must be coming down hard as the adrenaline fades. A few spots cloud the corners of his visions. He blinks them away.

The doors to the outside fling open, revealing two paramedics from the 136.

“Diaz, is that you?” one of them asks.

The best Eddie can do is nod.

“Shit, and that’s—”

Eddie’s ears start to ring.

“Diaz, were you shot?”

No, he tries to say. One of the paramedics grabs him under the shoulders, and the other pushes his t-shirt up until—

Oh.

Huh.

He has been shot.

The paramedic in front of him is saying something, but Eddie can’t quite understand it. Over his shoulder, the EMT looks blurry and horrified.

The spots in his vision return with a vengeance, and in his last few moments of lucidity, it occurs to Eddie that the bullet in his abdomen is probably the same one that ripped through Buck’s chest.

Then, the world fades to black, and Eddie thinks nothing at all.  

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

My Alpha

This is kind of a long one shot (5619 words!), but I thought I'd try my hand at the ABO!/Omegaverse. Hope you like it!

Being an omega wasn’t always a bad thing.  At least that’s what she told herself repeatedly as she religiously took hormone blocking birth control pills and wore scent blockers on the daily.  Y/N hadn’t had a heat in years and wasn’t planning on letting up any time soon.  She had started working as a personal assistant for the Avengers under Tony Stark years before, going through the Sokovia Accords debacle, surviving the Blip, losing Natasha, Tony, Steve, T'Challa, and all the other strange and traumatic things that happened during her tenure.  She had denied her biology to get this job, not wanting it to affect her performance or be a target while being surrounded by literal super Alphas in this field.  And as hard as the job was, she loved it.

One of the greatest highlights was gaining Bucky Barnes as a friend.  While other Alphas she had come across were domineering, he was compassionate and kind.  He very rarely lost his composure like others did during high pressure situations in missions, and never fought over who was in charge.  He was incredibly careful to make sure everyone around him felt comfortable in his presence.  After finally shaking the Winter Soldier programming he didn’t want to ever lose control of himself again, and with the super soldier serum messing with his hormones to the extent that he was nearly feral during ruts, he would isolate himself away to keep her and others safe.  

Y/N felt like she could talk to him about anything, and he felt the same.  She was his sanctuary after rough missions, one of the few people that could break him out of a deep depressive state or the nightmares that still plagued him.  He knew she was an Omega but could barely smell her because of her blockers, which he both loved and hated.  Loved because it made it so they could be friends without the weird biological dynamics getting in the way, and hated because he was super curious about what her scent was.  They had fallen for each other long ago, but were both too afraid to do anything about it.

As they both relaxed during a rare weekend off they got on the topic of Omega versus Alpha traits.  “I get it, Alphas can be rough, but don’t you want to mate someday?  Find someone special to settle down with?  Maybe have a family?”

She sighed.  “Of course I do, Buck.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked gently.

“Not having a clear choice,” she answered simply, giving him a sharp look.  “I don’t want my biology to decide my fate.  So many Omegas get stuck being mated with bad Alphas because their heats were uncontrollable and the Alpha wouldn’t take no for an answer.  I know that I’m predestined to be a nurturer.  Hell, that’s what my job is now, taking care of all of you guys!  But I should get to choose who I end up with based on love, not by body’s reactions.” Bucky nodded in understanding, looking down at his intertwined hands.  “Do you want to settle down someday?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.  “I just don’t know how it would work out.  This job…my past.  It all points towards disaster at any given time.”

She slid over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders awkwardly as she sat next to him.  “You deserve a happy ever after, Bucky.”

“You do, too, you know,” he reminded her, resting his head on top of hers.

“Mmh, maybe someday,” she said wistfully as she undid her embrace and leaned back against the couch.

“So, anyways,” he cleared his throat.  “Is it true that Omegas have a better sense of smell than Alphas or Betas?  Like you can pick up on others’ scents and identify them really well?”

She laughed.  “Yes, it’s true.”

“Really?  Okay, what does…” he scanned the room as other Avengers milled in and out.  “Peter.  What does Spidey smell like?” He tested her, watching her expectantly.

She took a look at Peter across the room, her nose slightly flaring as she took in a whiff from his direction.  “He always smells like fresh bagels to me.  You know the smell of just-baked bread?  Kinda like that.  Mixed with a little bit of hazelnut.”

Bucky looked at her in awe.  “Yeah I kinda get that off of him.  Alphas can smell and track scents but not to that level.”

“Hm, that’s interesting,” she said as her eyebrows furrowed.  

“Now how about Sam?” he asked excitedly, hoping it would be something not so pleasant he could tease him about.

“Ha, Sam is Cajun seasoning with a sweet lemony undertone.  Like really well done seafood,” she answered quickly with a smile on her face, knowing Bucky would be disappointed in that answer.

Bucky frowned as he thought about who to ask of next.  “Okay, how about…Steve?” He knew it was a long shot.  Steve had been gone for a few years now, so she probably wouldn’t remember.  But she gave him a soft smile.

“Steve was smoky, like fireworks.  A summer night that ends with warm apple crisp and melting vanilla ice cream on top,” she said as she stared out the window, a dazed look in her eyes as she remembered him.

“Wow…” Bucky whispered.  “I always got the fireworks, and something like a picnic.  But now that you say it, yeah, apple with vanilla.”

“Yep, he was truly all American,” she winked at him.

He laughed as he turned towards her on the couch.  “How about, um…me?”

She gazed at him, her expression softening as her nose flared again and she huffed out the breath she’d taken.  “Smoky, like Steve, but different.”

“Like gunpowder?” he asked suddenly, his eyes searching hers.  He had been told that before and was hoping they were wrong.

“No, not gunpowder.  More like…” she sniffed again but frowned.  “Do you mind if I…?” she gestured her finger from herself to him.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said, opening himself up for her to scoot closer to him.  She leaned in towards his neck, the best place to scent someone, and breathed in a slow sniff of him.  She closed her eyes.

“Campfire.  A campfire on the beach.  And the smell of the ocean after it rains,” she said resolutely, opening her eyes to look at him.  Their faces were close as he stared at her.  “But no, not gunpowder,” she reassured him.

“That’s good,” he breathed, his eyes shifting from her eyes down to her lips and back.

Her eyes suddenly widened, her brow furrowing and she pulled herself away quickly.  “I, um…I need to go…excuse me,” she said hurriedly before she jumped off the couch and power-walked down the hall towards her room.

“Wait, Y/N, are you okay?” Bucky stood from the couch as he watched her leave.

“Yeah!  I’ll talk to you later!” she yelled back without looking, her voice sounded strained.

“What the hell?” he asked himself quietly, looking around him like something had jumped out and spooked her.

Once she was out of sight she ran to her room and had Friday bolt the door.  She doubled over in pain and clutched her stomach.  “No way,” she moaned as she reached for her phone and called for help.

“Hey you, how are ya?” Bruce asked when he answered the call.

“Bruce,” her voice was pained as she held in another moan.  “I need help, something’s wrong.”

“What?  What’s going on?” he sounded worried, the rustling of papers and beeping from a screen by him going off.

“It feels…like a heat?  But that’s not possible, right?  We made sure of it,” she grunted as another cramp shot through her abdomen, and just as suddenly as it all started, it suddenly stopped, leaving her gasping.  “Wait, now it stopped?  What the hell is happening?”

“Come down to the lab, right now.  We’ll get you tested.”

She didn’t need to be told twice as she hung up and crept out of her room towards the elevator.  She was able to get in and down to the lab a few floors away without being caught by Bucky or anybody else.  She ran into the lab in a panic.  Bruce was already setting up the medical bay in the back with everything needed to do a check-up, some vials next to the other instruments.

“Hey, let’s take some blood and see what’s going on,” he called out to her when he heard the doors slide open.  She jogged to the bed and hopped up on it, taking off her cardigan so he could access the veins in her arm better.  After a quick routine check up he took a few vials of her blood then stepped out towards all the equipment he had for medical and scientific tests.  

He worked silently as she sat there deep in thought.  It can’t be, she tried to reassure herself.  I’ve been so careful.  Not missed a single pill ever.  This can’t be happening.  After about an hour Bruce came back with a screen in his hand, his eyebrows hung low over his eyes and a frown on his face.

“Y/N, it’s…it’s not working anymore,” he said softly, his eyes sad and confused as he looked at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes widening.

“The hormone blockers, the pills…your body isn’t responding to them anymore.  Your hormones are syncing back to normal Omega levels.  Your heats are going to come back.”

“No, no no no no no…NO Bruce!  I can’t.  Please, there’s gotta be another pill to try, a shot, an implant, something?  Anything, please?” she began to cry.  

“I’m sorry Y/N.  We already got you the best blockers that are available out there.  If your body is weaning off of them it means your biology is taking over, probably because you’re getting older and it’s fighting back to have a chance at mating.  I’m so sorry,” he showed her the hormone levels on a chart on the screen, pointing out the differences and then setting it down.  “There’s nothing I can do.  Nothing you can do but prepare yourself for it to start again.  And your first one is probably going to be brutal after avoiding them for so long.  You’ll need help–”

“NO!  No, I can’t do this.  I can’t ask some random Alpha for help.  This isn’t fair!” she cried harder, hiding her face in her hands.  Bruce patted her on the back, trying to help ease her pain by giving off a calming scent.  He was also an Omega and knew how much this meant to her.  

“It will be alright, Y/N.  You have friends here who will help you without making it awkward between you and them, or won’t immediately try mating with you during your heat.  They’re good Alphas.  They won’t hurt you or take advantage of you,” he promised.

She tried to calm the loud beating of her heart that was wringing in her ears, a panic attack trying to settle deep in her bones that she was fighting back.  “How long do I have until it comes?” she sighed as she sniffled.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.  With it being so long since you last had one it could be next week or it could be in a couple of months,” he answered gravely.

“Ugh, great,” she laughed as she wiped her tears away.  “No choice, whatsoever.  My body ultimately got to decide for me after all.  Wonderful,” she spat as she jumped down off the bed.  “Thank you, Bruce, for testing.  I just…I need to go sleep this off, I don’t know,” she said, giving him a quick hug and then leaving the lab.  

She took the elevator back up to her floor, her eyes stinging from the hot tears still slowly falling down.  Her heat was coming back, and with a vengeance.  She would need help.  Who would she ask?  Any of the unmated superhero Alphas would probably say yes, though she knew she only wanted one.  But how could she ask this of him?  And if he did help, how could she go on with their friendship as if nothing had happened between them afterwards?

The elevator opened and she trudged into the common room.  The floor was already dark as twilight set in and everyone had split off to their rooms.  She slipped into the kitchen since she missed dinner while down in the lab to grab something to eat, although she wasn’t particularly hungry.  As she made herself a sandwich she turned to grab a knife then saw a figure in the corner at the dining table.

“Jesus!  Fuck, Bucky you scared me,” she gasped, holding a hand over her heart.

“Sorry, honey,” he grunted as he sat watching her.  “Why are you crying?”

She stiffened as she looked at him, trying to act nonchalant as she grabbed the knife and turned back to her sandwich.  “I’m not, I’m just tired,” she waved him off, quickly cutting the sandwich and putting the ingredients and dishes away to escape.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N.  What’s wrong?” he stood, walking towards her.  She reached for the refrigerator door to get a drink, which he quickly shut and stared her down.  She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Come on Buck, I just need a drink,” she complained as she tried to open the door again, reaching for the handle.  Bucky grabbed her wrist firmly and leaned in towards her.

“What’s wrong Y/N?  You ran away earlier and now you smell…off,” he said, searching her eyes as his nose flared at the scent she was radiating.  His frown deepened and his eyes looked worried.  “Why are you afraid?  Was it me?  Did I do something wrong?”

“No!  Oh no, Bucky, it’s not you,” she said, her eyes widening.  “It’s me, it’s just…” her eyes welled up with tears again, spilling onto her cheeks as she sucked in a sharp breath.  “It’s me,” she sobbed, leaning forward til her forehead rested against his chest.

“Oh honey,” Bucky sighed.  He put his hands under her armpits and lifted her onto the counter so she was eye level with him.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face in his shoulder, crying harder as he enveloped her, his hands rubbing up and down her back as he whispered reassuring words to her.  They sat holding each other for a while, Bucky letting her cry it out and Y/N relishing the comfort.  As her cries died down and her grip loosened around his neck he pulled back.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please?  You’re breaking an old man’s heart,” he pleaded, hating to see her hurting so much.

Y/N chuckled at him calling himself an old man as she wiped her nose with her sleeve.  Bucky held her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  She let herself enjoy his touch before she sniffled and finally looked up at him.

“When I was talking to you earlier, I felt this weird pain,” she explained quietly.  Bucky nodded, listening intently as he held her face still.  “That’s why I ran out.  I went to Bruce’s lab to test me because it felt like…like a heat,” she sniffled again, looking down at her lap.  Bucky nodded again, his hands releasing her face and reaching for her hands to hold.  “I haven’t had one in years.”  This surprised him.  He knew there were new ways of birth control for Omegas now, giving them a lot more options than to just mate and reproduce and take care of their Alphas and pups like the old days, which he thought was great.  He just didn’t realize it could be for so long.  “And now, apparently, the hormone blockers aren’t working anymore,” she gripped his fingers tightly.  “My body is rejecting them, weaning off of them and reverting back to normal hormone levels.  My heat is coming,” she sucked in another sharp breath.  “I don’t know when, but he said it’s going to be brutal since I’ve been avoiding them for so long.  He said I’ll need help and…and I don’t know what to do.”  Her voice shook as she looked up at him again.  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Bucky could feel her panic and gave off what he hoped was a calming scent.  It seemed to help as her eyes fluttered shut and her shoulders visibly relaxed.  The Alpha in him hummed in satisfaction as he swept his thumbs over her knuckles.  “You don’t need to be scared, Y/N.  It’s going to be okay,” he tried to placate her.  “Listen, I know earlier you said you wanted a choice, and now your body’s not giving you one.”  She nodded, a few more tears slipping out the sides of her eyes.  “I…I can help you,” he said, gulping back the lump in his throat.  Her eyes snapped up to him, a look of shock on her face.  “I know that I’m offering something kinda crazy.  But I promise you I won’t hurt you, I won’t make you court me if you don’t want to, and I won’t forcibly mate with you.”  He looked her deep in her eyes to try to get her to understand.  “But I’d be honored to help you.”

Y/N couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.  She had wanted to ask him and now he was offering himself for her to get through this first heat.  She licked her lips and contemplated it.  “I just don’t want it to ruin our friendship,” she sniffed again, her eyes searching his face for hesitation.

“It won’t,” he said earnestly.  

“...Okay,” she agreed.  

Bucky smiled as he squeezed her fingers.  “Okay.”

“Thank you, Bucky.  You’re a good Alpha,” she thanked him, lifting his hands up and kissing his knuckles.

His eyes fluttered shut and he cleared his throat.  “You should probably not call me that, at least not right now.”

Her eyes widened.  “Oh!  God, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay, honey, it’s fine,” he chuckled.  “Whenever it hits you, just call me, and I’ll be there.”

She gave him a warm smile in appreciation.  They were playing with fire, and they both knew it deep down, but were denying it heavily.

***

Y/N could feel her hormones changing her body and mind.  Bruce had advised against wearing scent blockers as well to help her body fully adjust and hopefully not cause as much pain during her upcoming heat, and that was the first thing she noticed.  The Alphas around her, who would normally just give her a friendly greeting or a smile, now watched her hungrily through narrow eyes, giving tight smiles as their noses flared as she passed by.  It made her self-conscious enough to ask Bucky one day, “Do I smell bad?”

Bucky looked away from the book he was reading as she plopped next to him on the couch in the common room again, lifting her feet up to rest on his lap.  She was touching him a lot more lately.  “What do you mean?”

“Do I smell bad?  Omegas can’t really smell themselves very well, and since I took off the scent blockers I’ve been…watched,” she looked around the room warily.  Bucky’s eyes swept across the other Alphas in the room, noting how they were all giving off territorial scents as they tracked her.  He sat up straight, facing each one until they caught his eye and gave off a warning rumble deep in his chest, his eyes flashing dangerously.  They each quickly retreated, shamefully turning back towards their previous tasks.  The air around Y/N seemed to lift and she felt like she could breathe again.  “Thank you, Bucky.”

He sat back on the couch, grabbing his book with one hand and mindlessly rubbing her feet with the other.  “No need to thank me, honey.  And no, you don’t smell bad.  You smell like chai.”

“Chai?” Y/N scoffed.

“Yeah, chai with…” he reached a hand out and grabbed her wrist, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply.  Her eyes widened comically at his brashness in scenting her so publicly.  “Pumpkin.  Chai and pumpkin.  Like Autumn,” he concluded, setting her wrist down and then rubbing her feet again.  He said it so casually that she just stared at him dumbfounded.  

It got worse as the weeks went on.  Her emotions were haywire, one minute she was calm and cool and the next she was agitated and easily crying at anything.  She was nesting anxiously, rearranging her room and her desk in her office, constantly carrying around a large fuzzy cardigan or blanket with her.  Her joints were sore, especially in her hips.  She found herself eating all the time.  Bruce had her come down to the lab each week to check her levels, each time warning her it could happen any day now.  

A month and a half later on a Friday night the team got together for a movie night.  They decided on watching the first Avatar, a movie Bucky hadn’t yet seen.  As it played Y/N kept fidgeting next to him, adjusting her sitting position, wringing her hands in her lap, taking deep breaths periodically.  A scene began of two of the characters connecting in a tree garden and Sam yelled out, “Alien tree sex!”  Everyone laughed but Y/N bolted out of the room.  Bucky watched her run down to her room and shut her door.

He quietly got up and followed her.  He could tell just by her scent changing these last few weeks and how it was getting stronger, the chai smell getting spicier, that her heat was fast approaching.  She had been very touchy with him, following him around and staying close whenever they were in the same room.  He had no claim to her, but it was evident to everyone to stay away from her, otherwise they’d get a growl from him.  He was growing more excited by the day, trying to remind himself that he was just helping out a friend, not staking any claim or bond.  

When he reached her door he pressed his ear against it, listening for her.  He heard her heart rate picking up and her breathing became labored.  He could also smell her, more potent, spicy, the scent of unmated Omega making his hormones sing and call out for her.  A deep rumble emitted from his chest as he felt his cock hardening.  He knocked on her door.

“Y/N,” he called out, just loud enough for her to hear.  A soft moan came from the other side.  His eyelids shut tight at the sound.  It was time.  “I’m coming in,” he warned before opening the door.  He stepped inside and was hit with the scent full force, making his eyes and mouth water simultaneously.  Y/N was laying in the nest she built on her bed in the fetal position, one hand on her stomach and the other in between her legs, not yet touching herself but keeping pressure against her core.  “Honey…” he groaned as he locked the door behind himself and walked towards the bed.

“Alpha,” she breathed, her brow furrowed and eyes shut tight.  A cramp wracked through her whole body and she yelped in pain.  “It’s starting.  It hurts…hurts so bad,” she cried as she could feel a small gush of slick pour from her pussy as her body recognized the Alpha in the room.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey, I’m here,” he cooed at her, reaching his hand out and running his fingers along her leg from her ankle to her thigh.  “Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said while lifting the hem of her shorts up slightly.  She nodded and blindly started pulling at her clothes.  Bucky helped her strip out of her layers then undressed himself, giving her naked body an appreciative glance.  He lay behind her on the bed, cocooning her in his arms and leaning his head into the crook of her neck and scenting her.  He could feel himself getting drunk off of her heat.  She was sending him into an early rut as his hips rocked against her ass slowly.  Y/N keened at that, her back arching and pushing her ass into his crotch further.  He moaned at the sensation, his arms tightening around her.  “Shh, Omega.  I got you,” he said as his voice dropped further, the Alpha coming through more prominently now.

“Bucky…” she sighed, her hands gripping his arms around her.  “Please…Alpha please,” she begged, her legs shaking as another cramp hit her.

Bucky moaned at the sound of his name said that way coming from her lips.  He started to lick and suck and kiss at the scent gland on her throat, making her gasp loudly.  His scent mixed with hers, and they quickly got lost in each other.  His hands found her breasts and massaged them firmly, his fingers tweaking her nipples and making her hips buck back into him again.  He twisted her body around to face him.  She quickly molded herself back to him, hiking her leg up and over his hip, her hands scratching down his chest.  He tried to remind himself one last time that this was just a friend helping a friend.  Then she kissed him.

The kiss broke the dam of hesitancy he was holding to desperately.  He quickly responded, his mouth opening and their tongues tangling as they tasted each other.  Bucky climbed on top of her, his knees forcing hers apart.  His fingers probed her lower lips, finding her clit and giving it all his attention.  Y/N’s hips writhed as he riled her up.  She watched his fingers dip into her, making her breath stutter.  She was already dripping for him so he plunged two fingers into her, thrusting them in and out while his thumb rubbed and flicked her clit.  

“Fuck Alpha,” she groaned.  “Just like that, shit!”

Bucky smiled as she cursed, her legs shaking against his.  She reached down and took his cock in her hand, giving him lazy pumps as he got her closer to her release.  He huffed a sharp breath.  “Damn, honey, oooh that’s good,” he said lowly.  “Give it to me, love, come on, you can do it.  Be such a good Omega for me,” he encouraged her as he curled his fingers as deep as he could reach.  

The tension in her core finally snapped, her first orgasm ripping through her at lightning speed, squirting slick all over his hand and his hips.  She let out a guttural moan, the sound reverberating through the air, making the Alpha inside of him scream to claim her.  He had to physically restrain himself as he pulled his fingers out of her.  She smiled as she watched him with hooded eyes.  He put his wet fingers in his mouth and licked them clean of her slick, his eyes rolling back at the taste.

“Alpha please, I need you.  Bucky, I want your big cock inside me…please!” Y/N begged again.  Normally it would embarrass her to be acting like this, she would have never dreamed of speaking to Bucky this way.  But they were beyond the point of no return.

“Condom first, Omega,” he reminded her in his authoritative voice.  “As much as I’d love to fill you up, I don’t think that’s what you want just yet.”

Y/N pouted, but the first orgasm had helped clear her brain a little bit, and pointed to the nightstand next to the bed.  Bucky quickly reached over and pulled open the top drawer, finding the box and pulling a few of them out.  He unwrapped one and slipped it on himself before settling back between her legs, backing up a little bit.  “Present, please, Omega.”

Y/N twisted herself onto her stomach, lifting her hips high and pressing the side of her face into the bed.  Bucky almost whimpered at the sight of her sweet pussy, seeing the way he had made her drip with slick, the skin softly puckering in anticipation.  “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen Y/N, goddamn,” he whispered huskily.  She preened at his praise, her ass raising a little higher.  He gave her ass a quick slap, making her yelp and shiver.  “You ready?” he asked, making sure she was still wanting this.

“Yes, please Alpha, Bucky…please!”

“You’re so sexy when you beg,” he slapped her ass again, then grabbed her hips and aimed himself at her entrance.  He slowly pushed in the tip of his cock, the fat head catching just past her lower lips, making them both groan.  He kept pushing until he was fully seated inside her, letting her adjust to his size.  Y/N was keening again, a high pitched tone ringing through the air.  After a moment she wriggled her hips, silently asking him to thrust.  A deep growl emanated from Bucky’s throat and he pulled back until it was just the tip inside, then snapped his hips back into her hard. 

Y/N was making the sweetest noises he’d ever heard as he pummeled his cock into her.  She whimpered and moaned, making him hook an arm around her hips and lay his stomach across her back, quick huffs of his breath warming her shoulder.  He could feel her walls fluttering around him, making the rhythm of his hips stutter.  “Fuck, honey, you gonna cum?”  She nodded as her moans got louder.  He flipped her back over onto her back so he could watch her release, leaving barely any room between them as he hovered over her.  Her hands wound around the back of his neck, scratching his scalp with her nails.  “Goddammit, do that again,” he heard himself whimpering this time.  She scratched from the top of his head down to his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

He reached between their bodies and started flicking her clit as he chased his own high.  “Bucky, oh my God,” she squealed against his lips as her back arched and her legs clung to his hips.  “Yes, yes, yes, shit…mark me.”

Bucky didn’t stop thrusting but tensed at her words.  “No, Y/N, you don’t want that.”

“Yes, I do, with you, Bucky,” she gasped.

“Omega,” he warned her, his eyes flashing.  “We can talk about that when I’m not balls deep inside you.”

Y/N tensed at his Alpha command, her legs loosening around him.  “I want you to be my Alpha, my mate.”

“God fucking dammit,” Bucky stopped thrusting and leaned on his elbows above her.  “Y/N, listen to me, you don’t want that.  You said you wanted a clear choice, remember?”  Y/N was silent and wide eyed as she watched him, slightly nodding her head.  “This isn’t a clear choice.  Your first heat in how many years?  It’s your hormones talking, honey.  And believe me, I’d love to mark you, claim you, bond and mate with you.  Stuff you full of me,” he thrust again, making her eyes roll back, “and breed you with my pups.  But we can talk about all that later.  Right now, I’m here to help you through this, because you’re my best friend, and…I’m ridiculously in love with you.”  He finally said it.  “I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine.  But when it’s both of us with clear heads and a clear choice.  Okay?”

Y/N’s eyes were watery as she listened to him.  “You’re in love with me?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Is that all you got out of that?”

She shook her head, “No, but it’s the most important thing.  I’m in love with you.”

He smiled wide and leaned down to give a quick kiss to her nose.  “Can I continue now?”

She nodded again, and he gave her another thrust to get her going again.  Her slick started to make squelching noises as he picked up the pace again, his knot starting to catch at her entrance, his hand reaching to her clit again and trailing kisses down her throat to her scent gland, licking and sucking at it again.

“One day, if you’ll have me, I’ll bite this pretty neck,” he moaned in her ear as her fingers dug into his back.  “Make you mine.”

“Yours, all yours, Bucky…Alpha,” Y/N groaned, leaning her head up and scenting him back.  Her soft lips and her tongue against his gland had his eyes rolling in his head again and his fingers gripping her hips harshly.  “That’s right.  Mine.  Mine…mine,” he thrusted harder and faster, angling her hips up to hit deeper.

Y/N screamed his name as she finally came, her hands digging into the flesh between his neck and shoulder, scratching his scent gland and making him see stars as he came with a yell, his knot fully inflating and latching him to her as she nearly squeezed the dear life out of him.  He fell on top of her, and she held him as he calmed down, both of them panting and sweaty.  

A heady scent filled the air, a smell that screamed satisfied mates.  Bucky pulled himself to his side, holding her close so it wouldn’t hurt her to move with him, and covered them with the blankets from her nest.  Y/N was delirious after this first round of her heat, her head lolling with exhaustion.  “Rest, Omega.  We’ve still got a few days, and forever after that.”

She smiled sleepily, “Hmmm, my Alpha.”

[loveyouprongs]

are you awake?

prompt: "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry." remus lupin x reader

upcoming content: fluff! pls lmk if u think i missed anything. 1.8k words

authors note: despite any photos used in the header, it’s important that people of all races can identify with my work so please let me know if any of the descriptive language i use is exclusionary, i’m trying my best!

masterlist

you had no idea what time it was, your phone abandoned on the night stand atop remus' book. he had come over in a huff, one hand holding his cellphone, keys, and book all at once, the other holding a warm cup of hot chocolate he had picked up along the way.

"rem, is that you?" you called, fumbling with wrapping a towel around your just washed hair while keeping the other towel tucked under your arms. you weren't expecting to see him today at all, he had, in his own words, a fucking shitload of reading to catch up on and planned on spending the entire weekend holed up in his room.

you understood, having just finished your own finals, so you planned on spending the evening watching movies and finally removing the old nail polish that decorated your toes and repainting them. an easy, uneventful night.

“yeah, it’s me dove,” remus said, bending down to untie his laces, “sorry for just barging in on you like thi- did you just take a shower?”

he snapped his head up and drank you in, your body still damp from the hot water and the ends of the towel wrapped around your chest fell apart against your thigh revealing more of your smooth skin. your face was free of makeup or the tendrils of hair that constantly fell between your eyes that remus always brushed away.

“y’don’t have to do that every time, remus,” you said on your fourth date when his fingertips danced against your forehead once more that evening.

“you have to be able to see, darling, i don’t mind,” he replied as if this was something he was doing as a favor to you and not because he was so desperate to touch you in any way.

you looked beautiful, he thought.

“thank you, baby,” you let out, giggling at the sigh of your boyfriend still bent half over himself, looking up at you as if you would disappear if he wasn’t.

“did i say that out loud?”

“you did.”

“well, it’s true,” he had since walked over to you, setting his phone, keys, book and cup on the table and grasped at your shoulders, stamping a kiss to your forehead. in this moment, he felt all his tension wash away and reveled in the feeling of your warm skin under his and the vanilla scent of your shampoo wafting around him. he didn’t even remember why he was in such an annoyed mood earlier until you asked him how come he came over.

“ugh, i have to move out!” he exclaimed. this is something remus said maybe four times a week, seven if it was really bad. when james left his dishes piled up in the sink for too long, “i have to move out!” remus would say while ranting to you over breakfast the next day. when they went on a trip for a few days and sirius forgot to pack any underwear so he took it upon himself to borrow remus’, you woke up to a text from your boyfriend that simply read “i have to move out.” sent at 2:18 a.m. then “good morning” at 2:19 a.m. and “you better not be awake right now, dovey” at 2:20 a.m.

“what happened this time?”

“was trying to study ‘til those idiots had the bright idea of rolling bottles down the stairs, i mean who even thinks of that?”

you had to bite your lip to keep in your laughter. you had seen that trend all down your social media so you knew exactly where they got the idea from. but your sweet remus who had no profiles whatsoever, -unless you count the facebook page he made when james told him he had to have one at least-

“what do you mean it doesn’t count? you can share photos and talk to people.”

“it’s facebook! only mums use it. i’m making you a BeReal.”

“you’re making me be real?”

“oh, nevermind.”

had no idea and believed this was just another stupid activity his roommates shared brain cell came up with.

“i don’t know, remmy, people are weird,”

“right? anyway, i sat through listening to ‘clunk, clunk, clunk, smash! again, again, again!’ for about fifteen minutes before i had to get out of there so i thought to come here.”

a warmth started growing within your chest and spreading throughout your entire body. he thought to come here, to your place. your lanky, fluffy haired, nerdy boyfriend who you loved so so much thought to come to you. the smile that had spread across your face was so wide you knew remus knew exactly how you were feeling.

“don’t go all moony eyed on me now, sweetness,” he began, “i’m here because i still have a lot of work to do.”

“of course”

“with no distractions, at least for the next few hours,” he was looking down at you with a familiar look in his eye and you couldn’t even bother to feign cluelessness. the image of remus bent over a book, concentrated look on his face and glasses slowly slipping down his nose was irresistible to you and when you two studied together, it caused a lot of assignments to go untouched.

“alright, i’ll leave you be. but i expect some form of compensation for my good behavior.”

“hence the hot chocolate, for you dove,” he handed you the tall paper cup he had brought in with him and you smiled as it was still warm enough to drink.

“oh wow, my boyfriend and a hot chocolate? it’s like my birthday!” you laughed as remus rolled his eyes and started setting himself up at your kitchen table.

“you can’t say that whenever i get you something, you need to have higher expectations for your birthday silly girl, or i really will just get you a drink and that’ll be it.” he said and the last thing he heard was you laughing down the hallway.

hours had passed and your hair was dry, toe nails now a light peachy color, and one and a half movies had been watched. you mainly kept to your room, only coming out to get a drink and set some biscuits out for remus who hadn’t even looked up. you were sure a bomb could off in the building across the street and he wouldn’t notice. he was so concentrated that all you wanted to do was press your fingers to his temples and relieve his pretty face of the wrinkles, surely his eyes were sore as well, but you knew better than to bother him.

it wasn’t until it was dark out that remus had finally slumped against your bedroom door and trudged like a zombie to your bed, face planting right into your lap. his calves were hanging over the edge so you grabbed his face and shuffled yourselves closer to the headboard. remus was laughing, the feel of his lips tickling your stomach, and with that information he only began to blow raspberries on your belly button.

“remus stop i’m serious!” you let out and lifted his head up, your hands pushing his cheeks up causing his lips to reach up into a smile. he looked so soft, and happy, but obviously tired.

“‘m finished with all m’reading, dove,” his speech was slurred, surely from exhaustion.

“i’m very proud of you baby, you’re so hard working.”

he wrapped the comforter around both of you, and flipped onto his side, pressing his back to your front. he must have been really out of it because he never let you be the big spoon.

“but don’t you like being held?”

“i like holding you. besides it just makes more sense that way, i’m much taller.”

“there’s no sense to cuddling!”

“there’s sense to everything!”

“i am hard working! and they don’t care, all they care about is smashing things and making lots of noise. i have to move out.” he grumbled.

you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him mumble on, knowing he’ll soon fall asleep.

“well, you’re always welcome here, my love.”

he sighed and pressed a kiss to your wrist, “i know,” he spoke softly, the two words so full of content he could hardly stand it. he thought every day how lucky he was to have you in his life. a love full of soft kisses and hot chocolates and intertwining under moonlight. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, now get some sleep.”

the night had come and gone, remus sleeping away in your arms and the sun was shining through your curtains. you slowly lifted your arm off him and felt around for your phone, careful not to disturb him. the screen flashed 10:15 a.m., meaning remus had been sleeping for close to twelve hours now.

it made sense due to how tired he was yesterday, but you had done nothing but relax, so your body was ready to get up and start the day. you answered a few messages telling marlene you’d had to get back to her about if you and remus could make it to brunch in a few hours and sending a rolling eyes emoji to james who sent you a number of videos of bottles rolling down the stairs.

remus shifted, unconsciously flexing his back, and you froze. it wasn’t until he began cracking his knuckles individually that you knew he was awake, you still asked though.

“are you awake yet.”

“no.”

“oh, okay, sorry.”

“mmm.”

two minutes passed, “are you awake now.”

“are my eyes open?”

“no, but you are speaking to me, and this isn’t what you usually say when you sleep talk.”

“i don’t sleep talk!” he let out, craning his neck to look at you perplexedly.

“got you to open your eyes, didn’t i?” you said with a wry smile. his look of confusion morphed into annoyance that you both knew was fake and he fully turned so you were both facing each other now.

“i haven’t slept that good in a long time,” he said lowly, his voice still rough from sleep.

“finals are over now, rem, you can sleep for as long as you want.”

he smiled and tangled your fingers together, opening his mouth to say something back when his stomach rumbled loudly.

“that wasn’t very sexy, was it?”

you giggled and shook your head, finally throwing the covers off yourself.

“nope, but that’s okay, marlene wants us to meet her for brunch in thirty minutes, so we better get a move on, sleepy head.”

remus groaned and reached for his designated dresser from the bed and pulled out whatever shirt and bottoms were on the top of the piles. the two of you got ready in comfortable silence and while you were sitting on the floor, pulling up the zipper on your boots, remus realized that he really could see himself moving in here. always doing his course work at your kitchen table, picking up a hot drink for you at the coffee shop two streets away, not because it was on his way to you, but because it was on his way home.

“ready, baby?” you asked, now standing at full height, holding your hand out to him.

i’m ready to wake up here every morning. “ready,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours.

[wttcsms]

diesel is desire (we were playing with fire) ; sebastian sallow

pairing sebastian sallow x f!reader word count 4k synopsis sebastian sallow is a good friend. so good, in fact, that when you find yourself under the ungodly influence of a lust potion, he's willing to help give you some relief. content contains seventh year au, dubcon (under the influence of lust potion), darker take on seb's character lol <3, breeding kink, creampie, possessive!sebastian, possessive sex, virginity loss, babytrapping

“Why did you go out of your way to avoid me?” 

An accusatory voice momentarily breaks you free from the overwhelming feelings you were struggling to deal with, but the voice is too familiar.

The source? Sebastian Sallow — a very disappointed Sebastian Sallow, which after two years of friendship (and the lingering what-if of becoming something more), you’re able to identify as a Sebastian that you would much rather not be dealing with. Particularly because, try as hard as he might, he’s rather prone to saying harsh things and treating you unkindly whenever he gets into one of his moods. The hurt expression on his face is barely concealed by the scowl that mars his otherwise handsome features. 

Don’t think about how handsome he is!

Instead of replying to him, you’re quick to turn your head to the side, trying to focus on the curtain that separates your cot from the others in the infirmary. It’ll do no good to engage with Sebastian right now — not whenever the reason you’ve been compelled to check yourself in to the school nurse is purely because you’re not sure if you have enough self-control to stop yourself from literally ripping his robes off of him.

But it’s not like you can tell him all that. Lying would be preferable, if only Sebastian wasn’t so attuned to you and every single one of your tells. If you attempted lying to him, who knows what more damage you would cause? Then again, blatantly ignoring him also seems equally dangerous, especially with how quick to irritate he’s been lately. Ever since you witnessed him literally murdering his uncle, the relationship between the two of you has grown stronger — being practically partners in crime will do that to a friendship — but also more… volatile. The charming fifth-year you met on your first day of school still remains, but you have long since realized that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

On the surface, he’s nothing but affable. Maybe a bit of a rebellious streak, but it’s all in good nature. In the beginning, it was fun being with him. Exciting, even. Then you started following him on the dark path he paved all by himself, and before you could realize that you were in too deep, it had already been too late to turn around. Now, the seventh-year boy standing by your cot seems so different from the one who lives on only in your memories.

“Don’t ignore me.” He means to make the words come out sharp, irritated. It resembles more of a plea than anything, and you shut your eyes, willing him to leave. It must be all in your head, but you swear you can smell the familiar scent of him: cool mint mixed with the light musk of whatever cologne he’s been favoring since the fifth year. 

“Sebastian, I’m not feeling very well.” You mumble, hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave you alone. It’s not a lie. You aren’t feeling great whatsoever. Not even the nurse, bless her heart, can figure out what’s become of you. She gave you a pitying look and an almost amused smile as she explained that — in her words — sexual urges are very normal for girls your age. 

If your body wasn’t already overheating, you’re certain your cheeks would have instantly turned hot from sheer embarrassment. 

“Well, why wouldn’t you tell me that instead of abandoning me the whole entire day?” Sebastian is many things with different people. With you, he is both guarded and vulnerable. Some days, when you’re not feeling your best, his emotions versus his actions can give you whiplash. He has the audacity to say something like that all the while, he sounds absolutely tortured over the fact that he had to go eight hours without your presence. 

As if realizing the harshness of his attitude, he softens his tone as he asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

You had gone to the Great Hall before him because you needed to review your History of Magic notes before the test today. All you had was a bit of pumpkin juice and toast, and all had been well until you started feeling warm underneath your robes and sweater. As the heat began to travel through your body, you found it hard to concentrate on your notes. Not because of the heat, but because of the many thoughts swirling around in your head. Flashes of Sebastian that started innocently enough and quickly morphed into daydreams of him without his uniform. Sebastian with his hair messed up from the way your fingers tugged at the strands as he satiated his thirst with the juices flooding between your legs. Sebastian who would prioritize your pleasure over his and could make you cum multiple times before even thinking about getting his dick wet. Sebastian—

—who you share most of your classes with! 

You knew right then and there that something had to be wrong with you. Sure, you’ve thought about him sometimes, but never to that degree. And certainly never at seven in the morning over breakfast and history notes. 

That’s how you ended up lying in a cot in the infirmary, trying your hardest to ignore the intrusive thoughts of Sebastian fucking you ‘til you can’t walk anymore. 

“No.” You practically moan out the word, and you’re hoping to play it off as just you being a baby about being “sick”. 

You don’t expect him to turn your head so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, and you certainly don’t expect him to press the back of his hand against your forehead. His hands are cold, but surprisingly enough, it brings you some sort of relief from the fever that has seemingly overtaken your body. You bite back another moan. 

“You’re burning up.” Gone is his attitude. Instead, it’s been replaced by your favorite Sebastian — the kind, caring one. The one that resembles the boy you first met. Sometimes, his care can be suffocating, but when you find yourself craving nothing but him and his touch, you don’t mind his invasion of your personal space at all. “Are there any other side effects? Does your throat hurt? Stomach? Tell me what’s the matter.” 

You know how Sebastian must feel when it comes to people he cares about falling ill. His sister has only made him more paranoid about the severity of sickness and curses, and the concern and fear etched upon his face makes your hardened resolve of keeping the sordid details of your affliction to yourself melt away.

“Don’t laugh…” You warn him, but your voice seems so small and maybe even a little scared that his expression turns even more serious.

“Never.”

“I think… I think something happened to me. A charm…” You’re careful to dance around the word curse, lest Sebastian accidentally blows up the whole entire infirmary due to his emotional state. “I just feel very hot. And, um, I think the only relief would be to—”

You can’t even say it. You can barely even explain it since you don’t really know what’s happening either. 

“I’mfeelingverysexuallyfrustratedandIhavenomeansofrelief!” 

The two of you know that you’re never going to repeat that phrase ever again, and you’re practically near tears after that little confession. 

“Oh.” He says, as if this is nothing more than a simple, casual conversation and not the most humiliating situation ever. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” 

“Be-because it’s embarrassing!” Has he really no shame? Who would willingly admit that out loud? 

“You know, I’ve heard rumors of some sixth-years trying to pull pranks by spiking the juices with love potions. Just really gimmicky concoctions, truly. Nothing too severe. Hmm… You must have a sensitivity to it, though.” Sebastian’s musings do nothing to bring you reassurance. If anything, it just makes you want to hide. If the universe is truly kind, a sinkhole will emerge from nowhere and swallow you whole. Yes, that sounds lovely right now. 

Instead, the universe is sick, because what else could explain Sebastian telling you, 

“If it’s relief you need, I’d be happy to help.” 

Sebastian is many things to you — a dear friend, a confidant, a literal partner in crime — but none of those things involve him having sex with you, even if the offer only came from some odd sense of duty. 

And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He probably feels indebted to you since the fifth-year. Maybe even anxious, too. You could expose him at any given moment, and maybe that’s why he’s been so keen on attaching himself to your side ever since. This is a humiliating predicament to be in, and Sebastian doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell — considering that you don’t even know the names of girls he’s been with before is evidence. 

Besides, you’re only feeling incredibly needy for one person. You can accept his offer, but you’re certainly not going to let him know the truth: that only he is the one who can help you. 

“Don’t be embarrassed.” His cool hand is now cupping your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in an almost gentle manner. Sweet Sebastian is making an appearance, perhaps to try to put you at ease. You like this Sebastian. “Just let me take care of you.” 

When the haze of lust clears from your sex-addled mind, the rush of consequences will burden and crush your very conscience. 

Fortunatenly enough, consequences are clearly the last thing on your mind.

It would appear that the only thing you can truly focus on is Sebastian and what his idea of ‘taking care of you’ is. 

The Sebastian staring greedily at you is an unfamiliar Sebastian. You’ve become accustomed to the many variations of himself: Angry Sebastian, who says the most vile things out of spite and usually misguided anger; Remorseful Sebastian, who is quick to grovel (he’s quite good at groveling, really) and wants nothing more than to be back in your good graces; Happy Sebastian, although there are variations upon this very variation — the trick to seeing whether he’s pseudo-happy or not is all in his smile (the fake one is eerily perfect, the real one is crooked and a rarity). This Sebastian, though…

Hungry. 

The word doesn’t quite explain the dark glint in his eyes or the way his hands are almost reverently stroking your body. Your skin felt so, so hot just a few minutes ago — then again, just a few minutes ago, you still had your school jumper and blouse neatly intact. Now, you’re laid practically bare, prey to Sebastian’s more-than predatory gaze. 

If the two of you weren’t such great friends, you might have had enough sense to be scared.

The only articles of clothing left to protect your dignity and shield you from his eyes are your skirt (which is already riding up to expose your thighs due to his wandering hands), your white cotton panties, and the matching bra. 

“How do you feel now?” He asks, and you want to tell him you’re still feeling embarrassed, but his hands feel surprisingly nice on your skin, and you can’t help but hunger for more. Perhaps the look in his eyes, the one you couldn’t quite find a proper name for, is the same look you’re giving him. 

“More.” You whimper out, not caring if you sound selfish or impatient. This is awful. The two of you should put a stop to… To whatever the hell this is! This is a horribly unbecoming, unsavory situation you are in, and if things progress like how you think they are going to (how you want them to), then you’re both dead once all the adults find out. Professor Weasley would probably force the two of you to be wedded within the next day of her finding out, not to mention that the headmaster would probably have the both of your heads on sticks.

But you don’t tell him to stop because your rational thought is slipping, much like your bra. You’re viewing everything almost as if in a trance, almost as if this is happening to someone else and not you. But it is very much you; it’s your nipples hardening after being exposed to the cool air of the infirmary. It’s your bra that Sebastian tosses to the side. He’s licking his lips, eyeing the expanse of skin that has been revealed to him. In ordinary circumstances, you’re certain you would make all attempts to cover yourself up and try to regain some sense of modesty.

In these circumstances, you practically arch your back and mewl out for more, more, more.

More touching. More skin-to-skin contact. More of Sebastian. You want him. All of him. Every part of him. You want his cock ramming into your cunt, you want his hands wrapped around your throat, his mouth spewing out words of filth right into your ear. Most importantly, even though all you can seemingly focus on is having him ravish you, you can’t help but to be greedy and dare to hunger for more. You want his secrets — all of them. You want to know the nightmares that plague him, and whether he’s full of regrets, just like you. You want to have a claim to his soul, just like how he already has a claim to yours. You want to know that when his heart beats, it is calling out for you. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.” He announces, like he’s waiting for you to protest. He’s not directly asking, but the question is still there, as is the warning. Can I kiss you? If you let me, there’s no going back. 

“Please.” You whimper, completely and entirely at his mercy.

“Say it.” Sebastian swallows hard, almost as if he’s also nervous and too charged up with desire. His fingers are loosening his tie. He has already shrugged off his robes. 

He doesn’t tell you want to say, but you already know what he wants to hear. The words have been resting on the tip of your tongue this whole entire time, anyway. 

“I want you to— to kiss me, and more…” You look into his eyes. The lights in the infirmary make them appear a lighter color than usual. “I want more. I want you, Sebastian.”

The moment the last confession slips from your soft lips, Sebastian’s mouth descends upon your own. His body is angled awkwardly, trying not to crush you with his weight, but you can feel the heat emanating from him all the same, even despite the layers of his clothing that separates the two of you. 

You think the world stops spinning when his lips slot against yours. He tastes like the pumpkin juice from this morning, sweet and refreshing. There’s a lingering taste of spearmint toothpaste. You want to keep kissing him forever. You want him to kiss you everywhere else. When breathing becomes a necessary thing, he stops. You frown. You didn’t want him to stop. Oxygen is overrated, anyway. 

He lays a hand against the pillow you’re resting on, staring down at you, want clearly displayed on his visage; desire is etched onto every facial feature, and his eyes are gazing so intently into yours, you wonder if he’s a Legilimens. 

“Promise me you won’t regret this. Swear that you truly do want this.” 

He must not be a Legilimens, then. It’s so clear you’ve been in… It feels odd to admit it. Wrong, even. But it’s the truth—

—you’ve been in love with him since the fifth year.

You don’t keep someone’s secrets, their crimes, to yourself when you don’t love them. You let him perform Cruciatus on you, and you forgave him. No — you didn’t. Because you asked him to. There was nothing to forgive. You would endure it, over and over and over again, just for him, only him. And to think, you’re flooding your panties just at some simple fantasies of him, and he has the nerve to believe you don’t want this? Don’t want him?

“I promise. I swear it to you. I want this entirely.” And maybe liquid courage had been slipped into the juice you’ve consumed as well because you find yourself admitting, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you. If it… If it had to be done the first time around, I would always dream of you doing it to me.” 

He stops breathing, just for a moment. Gapes at you, even. 

“Y-you’re a virgin?” 

You wonder if you’ve gone off and ruined the mood. You wonder if you should take it back, say you were just joking, but before you can, his lips are pressing against yours once again. This kiss is even hungrier than the last, and you’re not quite sure how that’s even possible. It’s almost as if he wants to devour you whole. 

“Thank you.” He gasps out, so close to you that his breath tickles your nose. “Thank you for entrusting me with this, love. I promise I’ll make it good for you, just as you deserve.” 

And suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His sweater is discarded on the floor, right next to your bra and his tie. His belt is unclasped; he hasn’t even bothered to remove it entirely, just displaced it enough to where he can unbutton his trousers, and he’s pulling it down — his pants, that is. And the briefs. He hasn’t entirely disposed of everything, just partially. Meticulous Sebastian Sallow who is now so far gone into lust and depravity that he cannot even handle wasting another second by removing himself entirely of his clothes. You have made a man into a beast.

But you see the way he’s eyeing you — all dark hair and sharp teeth. He flips your skirt up, exposing your damp panties to him, and he licks his lips again, and you realize — perhaps too late, or perhaps you’ve known all this time — that Sebastian has always been a bit of a beast. A wolf only coyly imitating domesticity. 

“You’re so wet.” He brushes a finger against your cotton-covered folds, and you shiver. 

Yes! Your body seems to cry out. More, more, more! Your back arches, keening, craving his touch. You’re soaking through the fabric, making it practically translucent. You’ve never been this wet before in your life. You’ve never wanted his touch more badly than you do now. 

“For me.” He mutters, but in the silence of the infirmary, you hear him all too clearly. “Is this all for me, love? Have you been like this all day?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to form coherent sentences. Even if he’s not staring at your head, far too fixated at what’s between your legs, he hums his approval. 

“Don’t worry, my love. I’ll make it all better.” 

He’s kissing you. He’s got your panties only pulled to one side, and you think he’s muttering apologies against your saliva-coated lips. Something that sounds awfully like sorry, so sorry, but I can’t wait, and I don’t think you can, either. You barely catch a glimpse of his cock before you can feel the sharp heat of his length against your inner thigh. You would have thought that there would be some preparation, especially since this will be your first, but you’re thoroughly soaked. You’re aching for a sensation you have never felt before, but the animal inside of your brain is telling you, instinctually, to seek Sebastian out. That Sebastian will make it all better. That’s what he said he’ll do, and he’s kissing you, and he’s apologizing, and—

—and the world stops spinning.

No. There’s some slight resistance at first, your poor cunt protesting at the intrusion. A second later, and he’s slipping in half of his length with considerably more ease. A few inches more, and his hips are pressed against yours, and oh— Oh, it’s like you’re made for him. There is no resistance. There is no pain. There’s just you and him, and your body is welcoming him home. Where has he been? It seems to ask. Please don’t ever leave again. 

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses it out, and his teeth are gritted, and he’s admiring you. His eyes flicker to your face, down to your breasts, down down down right to where the two of you are connected. The word comes out broken, and yet, drawn out. As if he’s struggling to speak. 

Then he starts thrusting, and suddenly you realize that the world hasn’t ceased its spinning. No — now it’s moving entirely too fast. It must be off its axis. You feel otherworldly. You feel like this pleasure, this overwhelming, absolutely delicious pleasure, cannot simply exist on earth. It should be impossible. It should be impossible to find comfort and rapture in the way the tip of his cock seemingly kisses your cervix. You expect pain. 

You only find mindnumbing, earth shattering pleasure.

You feel stretched beyond your limits. You hear his pants and his groans, and you’re moaning, too. Calling out his name, which is so silly, he’s right there, he’s right there. There, at that special spot, at the spot you’ve never been able to discover on your own. You now know why adults advise so heavily against these type of relations — it’s simply addicting. You don’t think you can stop; you don’t think you want to stop.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so good f’me. Such a good girl. My good girl, aren’t you?” He’s rambling. His thrusts are considerably sloppier, and you feel his thumb brush against your clit, and you arch your back some more, practically screaming out his name. The stimulation is too much — it’s not enough — and you will always crave him. “Tell me. Tell me that you’re mine.”

There’s something so, so addicting about his possession. About being treated like his possession. 

“Yours. M’yours, Seb. All—” You can’t finish your sentence. The pleasure is becoming too much, and you’re too sensitive, and he’s doing this thing, this absolutely amazing thing, where he rubs circles on your clit in tandem with his harsh thrusts, and you’re cumming. You don’t ever want to come down. 

He feels you cum, sees your juices drench his cock as he pulls out, only to push right back in, relishing in the feeling of your contracting walls. He leans down, biting on your neck, and you take a hand to grip his dark hair, still cumming, and now he is, too. Spurts of his cum are flooding into you, painting your walls, successfully staking his unrivaled claim on you. You have been compromised. If anyone were to find the two of you out, you would have no other choice but to take his hand, his ring, his family name, him. You would have to take it all.

Coming down from his high, he has enough kindness left in him to lick at the wound he’s left on your neck. Your eyes are fluttering close, the intensity of it all thoroughly exhausting you. You don’t know the thoughts swirling in his mind. You don’t sense the longing behind him stroking your stomach, wondering if the Felix Felicis — his bottled Liquid Luck he’s spent forever brewing — has done its job. It would surely be very lucky, indeed, if his seed takes this first time around. 

Your breathing slows, and he feels your heartbeat even out. You’re exhausted, poor thing. Perhaps he had been too rough.

He’ll apologize, he decides, by doing something that’ll benefit the both of you. He ought to clean you up, get you tucked in, and when you wake, he’ll go down on you. He bets you taste so sweet, so innocent. He had known, of course, that he was your first — that he was always going to be your first. Your only. 

He wonders if the effects of the lust potion will still linger in your system even after you wake up. Probably so — he did it brew it quite strongly.

But the adoration, the love, in your eyes is something no amount of skilled potioneering can create. No; your feelings for him are real. You just needed to lower your inhibitions to get to the confessional stage.

And now that you have confessed… 

Sebastian Sallow can rest well after confirming what he’s known ever since he first laid eyes on you:

You’re his.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃

ㅤㅤwoodshop teacher!joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 2k

summary: there are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching mr. miller do something he’s undeniably good at.

warnings: semi-public fingering, dirty talk, reader has a small exhibitionism kink, competency kink

a/n: special thanks to the anon who requested this! I enjoyed writing it thoroughly ❤️‍🔥

There are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching Mr. Miller do something he’s undeniably good at.

The sleeves of his flannel were rolled neatly up to the elbow, exposing his forearms, strong and dusted lightly with sawdust from earlier. You watch intently as Mr. Miller takes the carving tool in his hands, demonstrating how to use it to the class. You’re out of breath. Completely entranced by the way his muscles flex and ripple in his forearms - beautifully defined beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel shirt. Unlike the other students who take in the information in a more appropriate way, all you can focus on is the gathering wetness between your legs. 

So much so that you don’t even realize that Mr Miller had instructed the class to start carving. You’re dumbfounded when you suddenly find the man staring right in front of your working bench, staring down at you with an amused gaze. 

“Sometin’ wrong with your tools?” 

Heat rushes to your cheeks. God. You’re an idiot. You open and close your mouth, he’s so close—close enough that you can breathe in his scent which you identify as pine. 

“No—No. Just. . .” 

He leans over the bench, his hands landing on the edge, fingers spreading over the smooth surface. Your eyes drop almost by instinct. You see the faint scars littered across his skin. 

“Distracted?” he finishes your sentence for you. You meet his gaze, heart beating in your throat, you expect to see an expression showing you that you’ve been caught doing something bad but much to your surprise, you see the lingering traces of worry. “We should talk ‘bout it after class. Sound good?” 

Does he really not see the state you’re in? That you’re practically soaked to your core—ready to say yes to anything that comes out of his plush lips. Is he that oblivious to his charm?

“Yeah,” you mutter, grabbing one of the carving tools sprawled out. You wrap your fingers around the material, squeezing it, your thumb faintly caresses the contour. His eyes flicker at the subtle movement. “Sounds good.” 

“You gonna tell me what’s going on or are we goin’ to continue to have a stare-down until my next class?” 

He’s smiling, however, it does little to calm your raging nerves. It’s been almost ten minutes since class had ended. A class that truly tested the limits of your patience. You barely managed to carve a line, your eyes were fixed on him, his hands, his arms. . . Your mind showed you one image after another, forcing you to think of the answer to questions like: how big is his cock? How fast could he make you come with just his fingers? 

Fuck, the thought alone is enough to make you weak in the knees. 

“Sorry,” you blurt out, coming closer to the desk. “Today will be the last time, promise.” 

He hums as he leans back into the chair, his legs parting. You feel another fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. “Do you know how long you’ve been taking my workshop?” 

“Uh. . . three weeks?” 

“Good,” he nods. “And can you tell me how many times I caught you just starin’ instead of doin’?” 

“A. . . reasonable amount?” 

He cocks an eyebrow, “Not a reasonable amount.” When you remain silent, simmering in your own embarrassment, he continues. “It looks like I ain’t the right teacher for you. And I care whether people learn a thing or two in my class so I wrote you down a number.” 

He rolls back a bit, opening the drawer, he picks up a card. You’re completely in shock as he stands, handing you the aforementioned card. When you look at it you see the name Tommy Miller written on it along with a phone number. 

“That’s my brother,” he explains. “He has a different approach than I do. Younger too, which may benefit you.” 

“I. . . what? Are—Are you kicking me out of your class?” 

You can’t help the quiver that accompanies your question. You’re an idiot. A huge idiot. You made him think that he’s no good in teaching which couldn’t be further from the truth. Still in shock, you stare down at the card and back up to him. He seems just as surprised as you are.

“No, no, I ain’t kickin’ you out. I just. . . I thought this would help. I didn’t mean to. . .” 

“It’s your hands—” you finally snap, taking him by surprise. Your brain is screaming at you to shut up but you can’t. Not knowing what else to do, you cover your face with both hands, breathing heavily into your palms. Your wood carving career is over. “You just—shit—you just look so good doing what you do and it’s been so long since—well, it’s just really distracting,” you feel the card with his brother’s number slip through your fingers, he’s not saying anything. Fuck. “That’s why I was. . . distracted. It has nothing to do with you or your teaching style. You’re great.” 

You should let yourself out now. You really should. 

“You think I look good?” The quip catches you off guard and you dare to lower your hands. He’s smiling again, beaming actually, he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. You blink. 

“You really didn’t know?” 

“Nope,” he looks down sheepishly. “I ain’t good at readin’ signs and it’s been long for me too.” 

He takes a step closer, pushing you back until the edge of the desk is biting into your flesh. Your breath stutters. He cages you in, muscular arms on both sides of your hips. He tilts his head and kisses your cheek. You close your eyes at the brush of his lips. His hands toy with the zipper of your jeans. “Tell me what you were thinkin’ durin’ class and maybe I’ll give you a gold star.” 

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out, rolling your hips forward. He grins against your skin. “I. . .I thought about your hands and how they would feel like. I also thought about—” 

You cut yourself off. He prompts you to continue by lowering the zipper. “You also thought about what?” he murmurs. “Don’t be a bad girl now. I know you wanna be good for me.” 

You do. You really fucking do. 

“I thought about how big your cock might be,” you gasp. “I thought about how good it would feel to have you inside me.” 

Mr Miller takes your hand and brings it to the rather impressive bulge between his legs. Your body warms as you cup him gingerly. Despite the soft touch, his eyes still roll back. “Why don’t you tell me how big I am?” he murmurs, thrusting into your palm. Fuck, he feels huge underneath the denim. 

“Really big,” you answer, stroking him. “You’re huge Mr Miller—” 

“Joel,” he groans. “Call me Joel.” 

“Joel,” you moan. “Joel. Are you going to fuck me with this big cock of yours?” 

He chuckles, “Sadly no. We can’t now but. . .” You shudder at the feeling of his teeth nipping at your chin. He pushes back your hand and swiftly tugs down your pants. “I’ll give you my fingers, sweetheart. Want to feel you creamin’ around them.” 

You tremble at his touch. Two thick fingers moving between your dripping lips, spreading them, teasing your entrance. Your breath hitches as he swirls the pads of his fingers around your clit. You melt against him, forehead falling to the front of his shoulder as he circles, circles and circles them. Your slick coats his fingers, trickles down his wrist. Those skillful hands now a mess. 

“You weren’t kiddin’,” he says into your hair. “You’re fuckin’ soaked for me.” 

“For you,” you agree, grinding your hips. “Give them to me. Please please please—” 

“Shhhhhh keep quiet or I’m gonna have to spank ya—” A wanton moan rips from your throat and you pulse, a gush of liquid drenching you both. The sounds that come out of you are obscene. “You like that huh?” 

You nod desperately. His chest trembles as he lets out a low chuckle. “So honest. ‘Guess you deserve a reward.” 

His fingers slide into you with ease, two of them sliding in and out, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit every time he plunges them deep inside. “Fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth, scissoring his fingers. “How are you this worked up? How the fuck are you so wet? Shit sweetheart—” 

You know. You know how wet you are. He thrusts his fingers knuckle deep, curling them, liquid heat drips down your spine, every muscle tensing with the promise of release. The sounds of him fucking you fills the workshop. The door is unlocked, you know this, there was no reason for either of you to think of locking it before. The thought of people seeing, someone watching—

Your head falls back as a whimper slips from your lips, his eyes find your own, dark with arousal. His thumb rubs at your clit. “Tell me,” he orders. 

“You have class soon,” you oblige, the thought making you clench. His brows furrow. 

“Yeah?” 

“People might see,” you add, just a hint of a teasing lilt in your voice. Your tone goes completely over Joel’s head, the tease prompting his fingers to still. Your groan in frustration, hips desperately jerking for the friction to continue.  

“You wanna stop?” 

“No, Joel. I. . .” Oh god, you can’t word it out. It’s making you flustered. “It’s kinda hot. . . that people might see.” 

“Oh,” he blinks then a second later his lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Oh.” 

And when he understands where you’re coming from—all hell breaks loose. 

Joel pushes you up the desk, nestling himself between your legs, your muscles left trembling at the stretch. He slips in another finger, fucking you thoroughly with three of them. Your jaw goes slack, your body burning from the inside out. You try to bite back the sounds but it’s hard when you’re left so exposed. It feels good—it feel amazing. You’re stammering over your words, somewhere between wanting to beg him and wanting to tell him how mind-numbingly beautiful this feels. His fingers stroke your deepest parts, applying pressure on just the right spot. 

“If you can’t handle this there’s no way you can take my cock, honey.” Your breasts feel heavy and full, nipple going hard at the gravel in his voice. You want to touch him so bad, have his cock in your mouth, worship him with your entire body. “Come on, sweetheart, let me feel how good your pussy feels when you come. Fuckin’ make a mess of the desk. I’ll just fuckin’ make a new one and you can soak that one too—” 

You’re chanting his name with hushed whispers, over and over. A familiar heat and tingle settles in your stomach, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, it doesn’t take you long after that. He keeps moaning about how good you’re feeling, about how he’ll be thinking about your perfect wet pussy when the next class starts. It’s all too much. Unbearable. 

“Look at me,” he growls and you barely hear him. He slips his fingers into the knots of your hair and yanks your head back. Your eyelids flutter as you stare directly at him. He bares his teeth. “Fuckin’ come for me.” 

Your jaw drops, all care about keeping silent floating from your head as the most guttural moan rips from your throat. It’s so intense that you can physically feel yourself creaming around him, the slick at base of his finger a shade darker. “Atta girl,” he keeps saying into your mouth, over and over. You’re still coming, your insides left throbbing and raw. 

The two of you stay like that for a while. His fingers still knuckle deep, panting heavily, both your bodies glistening with sweat. His forehead falls against yours and you sigh happily, a smile touching your lips. 

You expect him to kiss you but he doesn’t, it almost feels like he’s holding himself back. Instead, he brushes your lips together, expression almost painful. 

“You got any plans for tonight?” 

You shake your head. 

“Can I take you to dinner?” 

[yestrday]

— BLUSH BLUSH ! anemo | hydro | geo | pyro

⤷ yan! hybrid! zhongli, itto, gorou, albedo

summary ! these land-dwelling hybrids have devotion as sturdy as stone and they’re ready to prove it anytime! if you’re feeling shackled by your father’s chain, do not worry, for you have your trusty hybrids to keep you company. should you have any concerns, just come to them anytime. after all, you are all bound by a contract that will never expire~

content ! possessive behavior; obsessive behavior; yandere behavior; mentions of violence; mentions of biting you; mentions of blood; mentions of drugs; sadism; thoughts of corruption

notes ! woah!!!! i have posted an actual full update!!! woah!!! applaud please!

in the neighboring country of your very own, legends say that a great dragon protected their lands in a time of tumultuous peril. were it not for the great dragon general and his army of mythical beasts, the people of that land would have succumbed to war and famine. he built the broken country from the ground back up, and introduced many kinds of craft to help them prosper. the land and its people did indeed flourish,  thanks to the wisdom of the dragon. but wise as he is, he ultimately decided that the humans must learn to rely on themselves, and so he and his army of beasts hid away, till they faded into nothing more but myths and stories…

you stare blankly at the gentleman who is calmly sipping his tea while he tells you this story, and venti's squawking laughter as he dies in the background. having let go of his human form, he sits comfortably with his scaled tail and his golden antlers out, and his black and gold hands gingerly cup the ceramic teacup. aether is beside you giving the man a deadpan stare. all the surrounding hybrids, save for a few clueless ones, give him the side eye. yeah, ZHONGLI is not fooling anybody.

unlike your other hybrids, it was you who came to him. your father had summoned you, much to the anger of your caring hybrids, and your servants had you scrubbed with scented soaps and dressed you in elegant pieces. aether accompanies you all the way to your company's building and soothes your worries away as you ride the elevator going up. the man accompanying you shoots a condescending gaze— the forgotten heir and their hybrid pet— and backing down after receiving aether’s dark glare. when you step into his office, you’re greeted by the apathetic look on your father’s face… and the handsome man beside him.

“this is ZHONGLI,” your father tells you, sounding bored as he resumes to reading his documents. “i heard that you’ve amassed yourself a following of hybrids of some sort.” you tense when you hear that, knowing the positions hybrids hold in this world. “what you do there is of no concern to me. ZHONGLI is a good and efficient secretary– he can help you control those beasts of yours. after all, i cannot risk having so many sources of harm around my child without someone to properly control them.” aether snarls under his breath at the mere implication of them hurting you, but you squeeze his hand. and so off you leave to your isolated villa, your back turning on your neglectful father once more.

ZHONGLI quickly proves himself to be quite the skilled hybrid. he can easily identify from just a glance on what kind of animal they are, as well as the specifications of their behavior, preferred environment, diet, and whatnot. he also helps you sort through your treasures— the jewels and antiques you’ve accumulated over time and tell you stories of these. he entertains you with new knowledge, helping you have a good grasp on the world beyond these walls.

he’s also very, very gentle with you. for the kindness you’ve shown these hybrids, you’ve gained a special place in ZHONGLI’s heart. oftentimes, he will pat your hair down as he recounts an old eastern fable, and straightens out any wrinkles in your shirt when he sees them. it pleases him to know that you are nothing like your father, but he knows that you’re still his blood-related child. if you had to go through any of the trials that your father had, ZHONGLI fears that you may grow just as cold-hearted as he is. so he makes sure to take the utmost care of you, so that you’ll never have to change from your kind and soft self.

ZHONGLI quickly becomes a trustworthy pillar that everyone can rely on. the younger hybrids tend to come to him for advice, and he sometimes even replaces aether as a substitute butler. but when it comes to fights, he only watches in amusement and sips on his tea. youngsters should let out some steam once in a while, he reasons. oh, and aether absolutely forbids him from touching the mora. that’s one thing no one ever trusts him with.

ZHONGLI’s pride and ego as a dragon hybrid has long dissipated since the eras have changed, but even so, it has always irritated him that your father tricked him into a contract. sometimes, when he looks at you, a dark urge dwells in the dark recesses of his mind. it’s a feeling he hasn’t felt ever since he was a young bloodthirsty general— that bloodlust and sadism. he knows you’re not your father… but what he does know is that your father has a great amount of affection he refuses to show to you. so what would happen if ZHONGLI were to… say, ruin you? to push you past your breaking point and present it to your father? 

he knows it’s not right to think such things of you, but you can’t blame him. ZHONGLI is sure you’d understand, like how you understand your every hybrid’s troubles. he’s done so much for you, after all. surely you’ll allow him to take a bite of you, and maybe more. you are a treasure, hidden away where no one can hear you scream. it doesn’t help that ZHONGLI is a dragon, heralded by legends as the mightiest of them all, and he wants to possess every single inch of you until you’re not yourself anymore.

he loves you, and he isn’t afraid to tell you. you are kind, and you are everything your father isn’t. his heart swells when you look at him and his smile is unstoppable when you excitedly chatter on about trivial matters. he wants to give you everything and more but it is in his blood to be selfish, and there’s nothing he wants more than to ruin you and your father too.

RELATIONSHIPS: zhongli and venti often get into passive-aggressive fights by covering up their insults with very fake compliments. poor xiao and aether often find themselves in the middle of this verbal war, but the two old men actually get along more than they’re willing to admit.

ITTO makes himself known by destroying a wall and a room. it was a nice and peaceful day, enjoying a cup of tea before another session of studying with zhongli. but soon enough, the entire manor shakes as a loud explosion comes from one of the outermost rooms, and everyone rushes to see what happened. in the middle of all the rubble and mess is a snorting bull, a stab wound in his side. when it looks up at you, it's eyes grow wide.

everyone covers your eyes when the bull morphs and reveals a naked muscular man with the stupidest grin ever. "hello, little one!" his voice nearly booms, but it stills sound faint as blood dribbles from his mouth. "uh, haha, i know it's awkward to ask this of ya since we just met, but ya look like the master of this house. care to help me out here?"

ITTO apparently has gotten himself injured thanks to a gang war. according to his story, his gang pissed off some of the local ones when they barged into their territory ("anywhere's arataki itto's territory!" he corrects zhongli, but is promptly ignored) and he split up from his gang while running away ("strategic retreat!"). the adrenaline must've gotten to him, because he was a long way off from where he originally came from.

ITTO is loud and childish, but you've never had a normal childhood, so his presence is greatly appreciated. he drags you into his silly games— catching beetles with you to raise them into fierce fighters, shouting out cringey finishing moves during your card games— it’s always a fun time whenever he’s around, and he even manages to wrangle other hybrids into playing with him. a lot of people are exasperated by him, but they do like how friendly and stupid he is, so he’s one of the more popular hybrids in town.

stupid ITTO knows how strong he is, but that doesn’t mean he stops to think before pulling you into one of his bone-crushing hugs. gorou often yelps and tries to pull him off, nagging the laughing bull about his strength and carelessness. when he does loosen his grip on you, he does make for a great cuddle buddy— a set of firm abs behind you, muscled biceps wrapped protectively around your hips, and his head atop yours. sometimes you’ll fall asleep in his arms, much to everyone’s dismay, because then itto would fall asleep with you and everyone knows he has a grip like death.

ITTO’s foolish, but he’s kind and surprisingly wise at times. he’s wise enough to know the dark leer in his fellow hybrids’ eyes, and strong enough to be able to whisk you away from potential danger without any consequences. he tends to move you away whenever territorial conflicts arise between the hybrids, distracting you with a game or two. itto knows all too well how hybrids are treated in this world… he doesn’t want you being scared of them either.

that’s why he doesn’t warn you about the dangers of the other hybrids either. one, because he doesn’t want to fill your head with scary thoughts about them and two, well, he becomes a hypocrite. he may try protecting you, but even that’s hard enough for him. when you smile at him so trustingly, it just breaks his heart in two… and stirs up something dark and possessive within his heart. 

ITTO wants to cradle you gently, continue to play these silly games with you and have fun with the others for your entire life, but sometimes, you make it hard for him to be a nice man. he’s a big, big man— so big, in fact, that you won’t be able to do anything when he wraps that meaty hand of his around your head and muffles your screams. once he pins you to the floor and starts nibbling at your soft flesh, you’ll be helpless and weak, and it’ll only take him a second before he draws blood. he hates himself for wanting to violate you like that, but the thought makes him salivate.

you don’t know the real world like ITTO and the others does, and he wishes to keep it that way. concepts like innocence and pure are too philosophical for the bull hybrid’s taste, but he wishes to keep you safe. he’s been ridiculed, scorned, and cursed at for simply existing. part of him knows its paranoia, part of him believes it, and a small part of him wishes that you continue to hide in the haven you’ve made for yourself.

RELATIONSHIPS: itto’s quite friendly with the entire inazuman group, ready to loop them in for some fun whether they like it or not. due to his outgoing nature, he’s also made friends with the others as well, especially xiao, and seems to be oblivious to his mythical status with his laments about his poor, small figure. aether keeps a tired yet amused smile at his tirades, but makes sure to keep you away from him to avoid his bad influence.

GOROU joins your family after being wrangled by the neck by itto, who had loudly proclaimed that he had found dinner. when he bursts in the front doors, there’s a yipping dog digging its canines into his hand. someone briefly mentions that bulls are supposed to be herbivores, but all you can think about how cute the puppy is. slowly creeping to the shiba inu, you gently stretch out a hand and start petting its soft fur. the small thing flicks its eyes to you and bares its teeth to growl, but a particularly good scratch has it whimpering timidly.

GOROU just might be the only sane one from the inazuman hybrids, minus thoma, who’s more or less subservient to you and ayato. he’s usually frantically running back and forth keeping an eye on itto (“humans are not to be held like that!”) and heizou (“do not try to eat kazuha again!”). when he’s not trying to keep it all together, he likes training in the open field out back, and his night time routines are often spent with other fluffy tail boys, who sit in a circle to groom each others tails. you’re part of this too, often finding yourself groomed by the others too. 

he’s a respected warrior, and he likes to help out around the house too. GOROU is fairly amiable and gullible, so he often plays the straight man of many pranks. he’s strict with himself and with others, but not a lot of people take him seriously, especially with ears and tail as fluffy as that. it’s quite troubling for him, and he doesn’t appreciate it when people stroke his ears out of the blue or ruffle his preciously groomed tail.

although young, he likes to present himself as respectable and responsible. after all, he wants you to trust him, to come to him whenever you need help! but it doesn’t help that whenever GOROU is engaged in a duel, his more base instincts come out and the heat of the fight rushes in his head. he’s growling and scratching the floor, he shoots with a precise aim but doesn’t neglect the use of all four limbs. you find it endearing how embarrassed he becomes when he’s finally relaxed after the duel and you of all people had to see him like that. while you coo and comfort him about how cool he was, all the other hybrids exchange  a look— that wasn’t about being cool, it was a show of primal instincts.

GOROU values your approval and affection more than anything in this world. it’s why he works so tirelessly to become a man you can rely on. he doesn’t allow himself to be clingy, but with some encouragement, he’ll immediately melt in your touch and he won’t let go. he sees you like a being near to divinity– if not divinity itself. your touch cleanses him, your voice soothes him, and should you give him a command, he’ll carry it out with perfect execution. he’s been demeaned as a brainless dog by society, an animal instead of an equal, but for you, he’ll proudly carry that title with blood on its name.

if you’re looking to gain more than what you currently have, GOROU is the perfect lackey to have. it’s not to say that all your dear hybrids are more than happy to follow your pursuit of greatness, but they all have their underlying agendas when it comes to you. meanwhile, GOROU’s wants and needs are all based on yours. he doesn’t need to have any other agendas— all he wants is for you to hold him for the night, bloody mess and all.

RELATIONSHIPS: gorou is usually yelling and running after itto, mostly failing to get him wrangled and disciplined. he’s only ever relaxed around kazuha and aether, who both patiently listen to his grumbles and complaints. the three of them are part of the unofficial tail society of the manor, who along with the other fluffy tail-havers like to sit in a circle and groom each other’s tails.

there was once a time when common household products mysteriously disappeared from your cabinets. it whipped the servants into quite a fright, and rumors of a ghost haunting the halls were popular for a time. it was only when a servant found a small cavern in the side of the hill’s landscape, where the said products were organized meticulously, did they find the culprit— a handsome boy sporting feline eyes and a pair of fluffy ears and tail to boot. when ALBEDO meets your eyes, the wildcat hybrid smiles in a way that would make any romantic’s heart flutter.

“apologies for the inconvenience i may have brought you,” he says in a voice like a fairytale prince’s. “i should have introduced myself sooner instead of stealing from your cabinets. but as you can see,” he poi kntedly stares at the dozen wary eyes behind your back. “... i may have gotten a bit shy in the presence of such… intimidating companions.” 

ALBEDO is almost immediately absolved of all sin. who can get mad at such a pretty face? even your head maid who had been angrily fuming and ranting these past weeks immediately quickly turned all sparkly-eyed and accommodating as soon as albedo sent a charming smile her way. he becomes a quick favorite among the staff, because oh, he’s so nice to talk to! all these scary hybrids are either brooding or scheming or scarily strong and here’s this angel from above come to give them a sense of normality! he’s not nicknamed prince for nothing!

you always feel at ease around ALBEDO, and you like how gentle he is with you. his words are soft-spoken and carefully chosen, and he listens to your insecurities with a patient ear. he shares with you advice and his own perspective of things (albeit a bit flat on the social aspects), and he draws you little doodles to cheer you up. you both have a little game that you play where he draws on his sketchpad and you try to guess what it is before he finishes it. he always finds a way to trick you though, so you never guess correctly. he laughs quietly when you declare that one day you’ll figure it out, and pout when he ruffles your hair like a big brother.

ALBEDO likes how… warm you feel next to him. a favorite past time of his is accompanying you on your strolls and observe the wildlife with you. his hands squeeze yours as you point out the funny cloud in the sky or when you ask about a specific type of flora. if you’re sleepy, you often nap on his lap under the shade of a tree. he can feel his heartbeat racing as his fingers stroke your chin and trace your eyelids, and his big fluffy tail wraps your torso protectively. all he hears is the skritches of his pencil against paper and your faint snoring.

ALBEDO is… passive. strangely so, amidst a harem of dangerous hybrids. he makes it a point to never admit his feelings out loud. to verbalize such fantasies about you, the one who keeps him sheltered, it feels disrespectful to you. you’re too naive of the outside world, too innocent of the darker recesses of the human, er, hybrid mind. he wants to protect this innocence, because there’s too much darkness already in the world.

he hides away in his study, pencil against paper scratching away as his eyes zero in this unfinished portrait. he plans to make a portrait of your likeness, but none of these copies can compare to the real deal. an eye is too off, the nose too thin, the smile not pretty enough. he doodles some little yous on the corner of his scrapped portraits… and blushes furiously. he tears up the indecency and throws them on the fire.

is it so terrible to want to play with you a little? he may put on the big brother act now, but that’s mostly because he likes seeing the expressions you make whenever he praises you. your expressions are so interesting, despite them being like any other human’s. exactly what makes him so drawn to you? it’s a research topic he must explore one day. but for now, ALBEDO is content to play house with you for a little while, and shut away his more sexual instincts for a little while longer. there’d be plenty of time to experiment on you later, once he’s reached his limits. for now, he’ll let the potion simmer for a little while longer ♡

RELATIONSHIPS: albedo often shuts himself away from everyone and stay inside his lil old lab conducting experiments and the like, but once in a while there are people who drag him out. he often experiments on a disgruntled aether, who he bribes with mora. cyno thinks of him as a like-minded friend, but tighnari thinks that the way albedo stares at the jackal is much like a scientist staring at microbes under a glass.

[erodasfishtacos]

steer clear - roommates!abo pt 2

summary: and they were roommates… word count: 6k an: more parts up on my patreon and they are next to be updated.

you can subscribe for $3USD here and get access to 300+ exclusive writings & I update every one to three days !

this is a follow up to this +++ YN will fully blame her pre-heat, looking back at the events of the morning.

She cannot believe that she walked around an angry alpha barely dressed, taunted him, and casually bared her neck.

It was starting to worry her that she didn’t put enough consideration into the idea of how her alpha roommate would affect her heat disorder.

YN was only a week and a half into her month of preheat but she feels like the symptoms were stronger now that his rich, deep scent lingered on every inch of the apartment.

She truly despised this knothead, know it all alpha.

YN also desperately wants to be held tightly in his arms.

She needed a nap.

++

YN decides that she needs a night out with Niall.

She breaks her own cardinal rule of not drinking during preheat because of the way she acts.

YN’s become aggressive in the past, not necessarily physically but just like how she gets during heat, she almost becomes a feral, wild creature like their ancestors instead of the normal, calm, sweet girl she was.

Niall wouldn’t have agreed to go out with her or at least offered her shots if he knew that she was in pre-heat so she purposefully failed to mention that was one of the reasons she had been so stressed out recently.

The bar is fine, it’s not crowded because it’s a work night.

Niall didn’t care if he had work the next morning, he was always down for a good time and swore that he’s not once experienced a hangover.

By the time that Niall has walked YN to the hallway of her apartment, he watches from near the elevator to make sure that she unlocks the door and gets inside safely before he turns to get back in the lift to go home.

YN wasn’t as drunk as she was at the bar but she would still deem that she was over the line of being buzzed as she shut the door a bit too harshly before fumbling to lock it with a bit of a struggle.

It takes her a moment, as she rests her hand up against the wall to unstrap her heels to realize that there are new scents in their apartment.

Not only that but a distinct semi-sweet scent of an omega, who YN doesn’t recognize by scent nor wants it her home, let alone the other betas.

The film of fury starts to develop over her vision, only exaggerated by the tequila still pumping through her veins and altering her state of mind, on top of the hormonal changes as her body shifts to go through her cycle.

When she steps further into the apartment, YN spots a small group of people in the living room with drinks, snacks, and everything swiped from her coffee table.

It was nicely stacked and set aside near the television but all YN could see was that her safe space had been fucked with.

She couldn’t even smell Harry that well with everybody in the mix and that triggered her even more into a sense of insecurity.

Though logically YN wouldn’t call Harry her alpha, her omega has already identified him as hers or at least a potential alpha for her for heat, and the fact that his scent was not currently oozing through every inch of their living space was alarming.

They were playing a somewhat complex looking board game that YN had never seen before, all laughing and joking easily, having a good time.

YN focuses on the omega instantly.

She’s has thick-framed glasses that took up most of her face, tangled curls thrown into a messy bun, and tattoos that covered nearly every inch of visible skin.

Her scent was mediocre at best, at least to YN’s nose, and though this girl had never done anything to her - YN already felt a strong sense of anger and jealously that she even had the audacity to step into her apartment, her safety from the world.

The omega wasn’t even sitting near Harry.

Harry had two betas on either side of him, their shoulders bumping casually from trying to squeeze in around their coffee table but any physical contact with her alpha- with Harry was just completely unacceptable right now

Everyone’s eyes dart up to YN, most of them have friendly smiles on their faces.

YN realizes that Harry had been smiling and it had really been the first time she had seen that from him, he surprisingly enough had dimples.

However, when he looks up from his stack of cards, the smile fades into something stormier, something she was much more used to seeing.

YN vision feels blurry for a moment, blinking harshly, and desperately trying to simmer the rage that was starting to boil over.

When the omega slips her glasses up into her hair, she leans over to hand Harry a card from her deck, and she whispers something low enough YN can’t hear.

If she was in her right mind, she would realize that it had something to do with the game that they were playing but it felt like a threat.

YN’s voice is tight, shaking because she wants to get physical but knows she can’t, knows it’s not right but she’s never gotten this hostile before.

“Get out of my house,” YN hisses and even though it’s directly at everyone, her eyes are glued onto the omega who rightfully looks startled.

Harry stands up, chest puffed and shoulders as broad as possible, and looking a hundred thousand percent like the alpha of her dreams.

“YN,” His voice is firm, not quite at an alpha timbre but not too far off, he sensed the true threat, and realized this could go very bad.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” YN screeched louder, her chest was heaving and she knew her eyes were wide and erratic as they darted around to keep an eye on every person in her house.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice warns, stepping out of the group and closer to her, “I will have everyone leave but you’re not going to be aggressive like this. They’re not doing anything to endanger you.”

YN bares her teeth at him, upset that he’s not protecting her safe space for her.

How could he not see that they’re ruining everything?

“Get them out!” YN waves her hand toward the door sharply, kicking a pair of shoes in their vicinity for good measure.

“Settle down now,” Harry booms louder, finally in his alpha tone, and it’s something that quite literally flips a switch in her mind to obey.

YN blinks at him, suddenly feeling heavy like there were weights in her limbs as she stills snarls but doesn’t emit any noises further towards the guests.

The anger dissipates and is fully replaced with despair.

It’s not something that has ever happened before but then again, this was the first time that she had ever had an alpha in her life.

YN doesn’t melt though, not when Harry wraps his fingers securely around her wrist, and tells his friends, “I’m going to take her back to her bedroom. See yourselves out. I’ll contact you all in the morning to reschedule.”

YN doesn’t want to go to her room until they’re fully out of her house but when she hesitates in the entryway, Harry tugs at her, still gruff and alpha when he snaps, “Let’s go, now.”

She follows, albeit unwillingly and still fucking too buzzed to fully process anything that was going on in these last minutes.

Harry opens her bedroom door, nostrils flaring whether it’s from his disdain for her scent or just agitation - most likely a mixture of most

“Stay here until I say so,” Harry demands, in his typical bossy alpha way as he nudges her into her now open bedroom door.

“It’s my apartment,” YN nearly growled at him, eyes narrowed.

“It is also my apartment as well,” Harry points out, calm and emotionless as ever, “And you acting like a feral, unregulated little pup isn’t going to fly with me.”

YN feels like it’s an insult to her value as an omega.

It makes her want to shrink and become unreasonably small.

She already felt that way compared to him.

When Harry moves to shut her door as he leaves, she can’t help but bite out, “Knothead.”

Harry shakes his head in annoyance but only reminds her once more, “Stay here.”

YN ignores him, after he shuts the door, YN decides it’s time to change out of her form-fitting outfit and into something much more comfortable.

All she can think about though is that the feeling that her apartment, her safe space for her head, has been disturbed, and she’s going to have to fix it or she won’t be able to sleep.

She didn’t get a good enough look to know what’s out of place or not but she can guess things were moved around and touched.

YN changes into a soft pajama shorts and a cropped tee, nearly bouncing on her feet for the confirmation that all of the intruders have left her house.

If she wasn’t buzzed and in pre-heat in the presence of the first alpha she’d ever really known, she would have probably joined in the game or conversation.

All bets were off during the lead up to her cycle.

Once the door cracks open, Harry doesn’t peek his head in or anything but simply rumbles, “Everyone is gone.”

He doesn’t say anything else before she can hear him walking the few steps to his bedroom and shutting the door harshly.

YN feels like a live wire is in her veins as she exits her bedroom, eyes trying to go everywhere at once but instantly focus in on the game that’s still laid out on the coffee table.

She doesn’t care in that moment that she might be messing things up as she starts to shuffle all the pieces back into the box with a bit of unnecessary urgency.

But before she even gets half-way done with that, she realizes that someone has moved Beatrice’s box of toys to the wrong corner of the room.

Her little metallic crinkle balls, her fish on a string, all of them were splayed out over the floor, and not nicely tucked away as YN had left them.

Then she realizes that the visitors had been using her throw blankets which means they automatically had to get rewashed first thing tomorrow.

YN threw the three blankets in a pile near the entryway, she didn’t even realize that there were tears streaming down her cheeks instantly.

Harry pads back down the hallway as she is re-entering the living room, that same annoying scowl on his face, and tense body language.

“You don’t have to prove this point to me. I would have cleaned all these things up once you went to sleep,” Harry huffs out as YN moves a chair back to its original place at her dining room table.

YN isn’t proving a point though

She’s trying to fix her safe space that he had so carelessly destroyed.

Harry moves towards the coffee table to clean up the rest of the board game but YN snaps at him first.

“You already disrupted enough! Let me clean this up! Don’t touch anything else!” YN is half yelling, half begging at this point.

“Why are you being so fuckin’ difficult with me? Ever since you walked in the front door,” Harry throws his arms up, “Is it because I had people over without asking? I didn’t know I needed your permission.”

His tone is triggering, his stance, his scent.

YN was starting to think that there has been great reasons now to steer clear of stupid fucking alphas. YN bristles at him because there’s something about the way he’s acting that makes her skin itchy.

He was the alpha, she was the omega.

They’ve established that and he should know that this isn’t normal for any omega without some type of disorder.

YN wonders if Harry has any mate-like instincts or if he truly is unbothered by the way she acts because he doesn’t give an ounce of care about her.

She decides the best thing she can do right now is ignore him completely as she continues to tuck the decorative pillows back in their spots.

Harry is waiting for a response but realizes after a moment of heavy silence that he wasn’t going to be receiving one from her.

“If it was an issue, I am not a fuckin’ mind reader,” Harry continues on, volume loud enough that it pricks at her ears sharply, “If there was a problem with it, you need to be an adult and communicate.”

YN drops the pillow she was just about to place, eyes burning near fire as she snarls at him, loudly and frustrated now.

“I did tell you!” YN raises her voice, vocal cords straining because yelling for her was a rare occurrence that almost never happened, “You should have have some fucking alpha instincts or is there just too much testosterone in you to have common sense?”

Harry growls louder than before, at the insult of his secondary gender, no alpha wanted to be questioned on their abilities.

YN keeps on before he can respond, “I have been in pre-heat for the last week and a half. You knew that! You knew that I was struggling to sleep, feeling restless, and upset. Did you not?”

Harry’s jaw twitches, his throat bobbing as he swallows, his eyes darting guilty to the side for a moment before focusing back on her, “I did.”

“You knew I’m struggling through my pre-heat and you brought a group of people here? Unfamiliar people? An omega in my home?” YN breaks down, the rage leaving her body and tears flooding in instead.

The tension in Harry’s body starts to fade as he realizes what he’s done and he has the decency to look properly remorseful as she cries.

“My safe space doesn’t feel safe anymore,” YN sniffles as she pulls the collar of her shirt to cover her face, her vulnerability as she sobs, “You took away my safe space then yelled at me for being upset about it.”

“YN, I -“ Harry begins, his tone had softened ten-fold and his shoulders were relaxed, chest not as puffed up and intimidating.

YN shakes her head, wiping her eyes with the fabric before letting it drop again, “I need to go to my room. I need to be in my nest unless you’ve invited them to lay in there too?”

It was rhetorical and she didn’t give him a chance to reply either way as she storms passed him, avoiding his shoulder just barely to get to her room.

YN shuts her bedroom door, making sure that he can hear the lock distinctly as a warning, and relieve floods through her when she looks at her bed.

Her nest is perfectly as she left it if Beatrice was curled up to the left corner, and probably had been the whole time the group of people were here.

She had already been in her room when Harry marched her in here but she had been so frazzled that she could only think about getting out there to clean, not a thought to her nest.

Beatrice was the friendliest cat once she warmed up but until then she was anxious and tended to tuck herself somewhere away from noise.

YN’s already dressed for bed and readily crawls into her nest to bunker down under the layers of soft blankets and comfy sweaters.

She hates that it reaches underneath her pillow for Harry’s shirt that still had a decent amount of his rich scent on it to make her feel warm and fuzzy in a different way.

YN’s mind starts to wander, when he brought her back here, did he look at her nest?

Alphas should know that it is highly disrespectful and inappropriate to view an omega’s nest without their expressed consent and permission.

However, Harry was the rudest, most off-putting alpha that has ever walked the face of the earth which leaves her anxious that he did look.

If YN would have known that Harry would see it, she would have spent hours building a much prettier one, more constructed, bigger.

Her pre-heat and heat nests however were more about comfort than ability and appearance.

They were sloppy, hastily put together, and usually a wreck from how much YN tossed and turned in her sleep during these times.

YN surprisingly sleeps well once again because of her nose being tucked into a fabric carrying the most delicious scent she had ever smelled.

But she wakes up earlier than usual, especially because she was off work for the rest of the week because of the issues at their office and it was Tuesday.

She should be sleeping in.

YN doesn’t forget that Harry gets up earlier than her by a long shot and is out the door by the time her alarm goes off but she checks her clock.

She staggers to her door, moving to unlock the knob but when she glances down she notices her door is already unlocked.

YN doesn’t remember getting up at any point but with how much alcohol she had consumed the night before, she wouldn’t be surprised if she had gotten up to pee.

YN is dreading walking into the hallway to be met with the disappointing smell of all the random betas that had been over here.

Worst of all, the omega who’s scent would likely linger, and be more sensitive to her nose because of the insinuated threat of competition.

However, when she steps out, most of the lights are still off and it’s still completely dark outside which makes the dim lamp in the living room give some illumination.

YN doesn’t smell anything but Harry.

Like insanely, all encompassing Harry.

It was the best thing she’s ever woken up to.

When she pads into the main area, she notices that the apartment is a hundred percent back to normal, everything rearranged perfectly.

Not only that but it was even more spotless than before.

Most importantly, Harry must have rescented the whole apartment and marked it as his territory which maybe should make YN mad but it just brings her back to the feelings of being safe.

YN is blinking rapidly, eyes watering from relief as she runs her hand across a neatly folded throw blanket on the back of her couch.

It takes her a minute to realize it hasn’t just been scented but washed completely along with the other blankets that were tucked neatly into their basket by the couch.

“I should have asked before I marked the entire apartment. My…alpha went into a bit of overdrive after our conversation last night,” Harry’s voice interrupts the silence from the kitchen, it was low enough that it didn’t make her jump.

YN turns her head to look at him, he’s dressed in gym gear with a loose fitting black tee that doesn’t do justice to his defined body shape, mid thigh black running shorts, and black tennis shoes with crew socks.

He looked big, intimidating, and every bit of the angry alpha that he has shown in the past to her but he wasn’t posturing, he was leaning against the counter and sipping a protein shake from his shaker bottle.

“I…” YN shakes her head as she looks around, in awe that the alpha actually listened and did something kind for her that maybe he wasn’t the complete knothead she thought he was, “It’s okay. It feels safe again.”

“Even with my scent?” Harry clarifies, wariness in his expression as he watches her, eyes always focused and clear from under his dark lashes.

“I've never had an alpha in my proximity. It makes me feel safer and I like your scent. It really upset me when I could barely smell you when I got home last night,” YN doesn’t know where this honesty is coming from and isn’t sure whether she should regret it or not.

Harry has the same flash of guilt cross his face and that’s when YN realizes just how exhausted he appears with puffiness under his eyes, darker than usual coloring.

“It must have taken you a long time to do all this. You even did laundry and I know it takes ages for those dryers to actually dry anything heavier than a sock,” YN murmurs as she gives another glance around.

Harry rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, his hair was in a high bun, and his jawline was like something of a sculpture.

YN was still struggling to come to terms with the idea that this alpha was her flat mate, Niall never mentioned how impossibly handsome he is or devastatingly all dominant, primal alpha.

Maybe as a beta he truly didn’t notice.

Niall could be quite oblivious.

“I let my emotions get the best of me sometimes. I wasn’t thinking about how new scents in the house would affect your pre-heat,” Harry admits, his voice is still somewhat flat but it seemed genuine enough, “I am a good alpha.”

YN is a bit taken aback by his words.

It was the cadence of the way he spoke them.

Like he was trying to prove it to her.

“You should get some sleep before work,” YN defers the topic and from the twitch of Harry’s jaw - his annoyance too because he wanted validation.

He was being a good alpha but it was a little too late in this scenario.

“I have to get to the gym to train,” Harry shakes his head, swigging down the last of what was in his bottle before moving to wash it out.

“You can’t take a day off?”

“No,” Harry replies, simple and firm, “You should be the one getting back to sleep. You don’t have work today. You should rest, your body has been incredibly stressed out.”

“I’ll probably sleep the whole day now,” YN laughs but it’s the truth, she almost wants to move to the couch after he leaves to be more more enmeshed in his scent.

“The striped knit blanket in the basket, you might want to not use that one,” Harry tells her before he directly focuses on scrubbing his plastic cup.

“Did you not wash it?” Maybe it still smells like omega or beta.

“I did,” Harry blinks at her, frowning like he doesn’t want to answer but is being forced, “I just…it’s drenched in my scent. My alpha was unsettled so probably want to let it air out and lose the scent a bit first.”

“Okay,” YN replies easily because that means that after he leaves it will be the first one that she’s going to wrap herself into like a burrrito.

“Okay?” Harry repeats back, skeptical and sharp, “I don’t understand how all these betas and one omega triggers you so incredibly much while I can just stink up and claim this whole apartment with no issue.”

YN almost physically sees Harry start to put his guard up, hackles up and brows knitting downward to cause the wrinkle above his nose.

“It makes me feel safe, you…um, make me feel that way too,” YN admits, all to honest again, and she wonders why she is opening up to a brick wall.

Harry’s jaw twitches, eyes unreadable as he nods, “Okay.”

YN wants to laugh at his robotic, stiff response to such a major compliment.

She may be taunting a bull but she has to try.

Harry had just hung the dish towel back on the oven handle when YN walks into the kitchen and straight at him, not giving him a chance to move before she’s wrapping her arms around his middle and hugging him.

A major part of her expects him to push her off, scoff at her, or to even just stiffen up to the point that it would feel like hugging a scarecrow.

But Harry, she was learning was absolutely full of surprises and he doesn’t do any of those things.

He doesn’t exactly soften but he does something that nearly stops her heart, he puts his hand on the nape of her neck which is a very intimate thing.

“You’re fine. You need to figure out how to control your disorder, it must be miserable living like that twice a year. Go get some sleep now,” Harry rumbles as he administers the lightest squeeze to that spot his hand was on.

YN purrs.

Her eyes widen and she flinched.

“Did you just-?” Harry begins to ask, voice getting rougher.

“Have a good day at the gym and work!” YN squirms out of his hold and hightails it to the bedroom, shutting the door quickly.

On her retreat, she swears that she hears Harry huffs out in a mixture of annoyance and humor, “Silly pup.” ++++++++_

[hellfire--cult]

Omega!Emperor Geta x Alpha!Barbarian!Fem!Reader

+18 omegaverse, fem!alpha, dark tropes, very slight dubcon that turns into con, gore, blood, animal death, slapping, tyrant Geta, scenting, knotting, biting, p in v, oral sex (m and f receiving), bondage, breeding kink, mentions of injuries, as well as very threatening dialogues, murder and allusions to murder.

wc: 14.5k

Plot: The Emperor hid his true designation since he presented thanks to a concoction he made out of the blood of Alphas, but what happens when one particular woman enters his colosseum, and he can't look away? He won't give up his throne. No mercy. There shouldn't be. So why isn't the omega inside him listening? Why did it have mercy on her?

A/N: This man is not an Alpha. No matter how people try to paint him as, he is a whimpery man, and I want to see him tear up. thank u to @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading and also Hailey for just saying 'm-preg' on a chat and my brain went brr.

Warning before reading: Alphas have penises, being male or female. Omegas have vaginas. This does not mean they identify as the other gender they were born in, or change it at all when they present. It's a secondary gender. Reader has a cock (testicles replacing the ovaries inside), Geta a pussy (with a cocklette instead of clit).

A reblog is better than leaving just one like.

MERCY

Mix. Mix. Mix. Smash together. Crunch it up. Mix some more. Pour. Drink.

It was automatic at this point. The scent of herbs, the stench of iron, the dead body in the corner of his room, the blood jar that contained the remaining blood of a past dead man. The golden bowl on his table with the concoction he created, a transparent red, with an oily texture, and particles of herbs floating all around. 

The emperor dipped his index and middle finger in and then rubbed the liquid in the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He made sure to smother it well, on both sides to be certain to cover it up very well. He proceeded to take more and lay it all over his wrists, leaving a red tint behind but he can cover it with his tunics. He grabbed the bowl and his nose scrunched as he raised it towards his face, the smell pungent, wooden, filled with ash as well. He opened his mouth and drank the rest of it, letting go down his throat. His stomach revolted as he put the bowl down with a slam, his breathing turning heavy as he groaned, his hand coming to cover his mouth.

No matter how many times he did this, it didn’t get any less disgusting. His bottom half cramped and he grunted, his hands slamming on the table as he held himself upright. His head turned to see the dead body that lay there, marching towards it and kicking the slashed stomach, his foot now stained with its blood.

His jaw clenched tightly as anger filled him, his body trying to betray him like it always does but he never lets it. He can’t let it. His eyes went to the face of the man’s body. He was cute, but he sadly knew too much. This stupid fucking Alpha knew too much.

Yet, he can’t help but also be thankful for him being nosy, because if he hadn’t been, he wouldn’t be able to get the blood he needs. To make that perfume that covers up his darkest secret, one his brother doesn’t remember, one that only his personal confidant doctor knows about, because if it were to get out, he would not be on the throne, and his brother is not in the best state of mind to rule by himself. 

Because no Roman would bow to an Omega.

He heard a knock on the door and he closed his eyes as he turned around to grab his robe, putting it on as he headed towards the big golden framed doors, opening one to see his doctor, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, and then followed by a sniff, angering the emperor.

“Yes, you cannot be smelled, Emperor Geta.” He knows it's part of his job to make sure it actually works, but he still gets enraged when his doctor has to sniff him because it reminds him of this vulnerability of his. This forsaken misery the gods have imposed on him as if it would have stopped him from being ruler of Rome. 

“Get disposed of the body. Feed it to the dogs or to the people saying it’s rhinoceros meat, I don’t care.” His voice was cold as Caius walked in with a silver trolley, closing the door behind him. His simple robes were white, one shoulder exposed with a small golden badge to hold it on the side, signaling he was part of the royal personnel.

“As you wish, dominus noster.” His doctor walked towards the body to inspect it, making a small tsk noise, making Geta’s eyebrow twitch. “You were pretty light on this one. Just slashing his stomach, his neck… Surprised to not see guts on the floor.”

“It’s getting messier to clean up, and that has to be quick, so stop talking and get to it Caius!” His voice was loud, almost scratching an ear drum, and he managed to control his whine thanks to the liquid he had prepared finally sitting in his stomach. The blood of an Alpha on his scent glands and in his system, and it’s enough to cover his omegan stench.

He has been killing the barbarian Alphas for as long as he can remember, buying them off after a game, and people thought that the Emperor loved the atrocious act of making another Alpha submit to him, taking them to his bed, an Alpha on Alpha is what his people called it. Little did they know that it was to take their blood out of their succumbed bodies after he made a mess out of them.

He was very graphic at the beginning thanks to his anger, but as clean up took longer and his brother liked visiting him in his chamber, he had to do things a little quicker now. His dear brother who, thanks to his illness, forgot about what he truly is. His Beta brother forgot his sibling was an Omega and fully believed he was an Alpha thanks to the scent the concoction gave him. The Alpha from the day before had smelled him once he got inside the room and the Emperor quickly disposed of him, but fear struck him.

He put more blood in this time, harder to swallow but maybe it has more effect than the last few mixes he did because that Alpha could smell him, even if just a bit. A recipe brought by Caius the moment Geta had presented, his mother begging for mercy from the doctor and to not give away her prodigy’s child secret. Caius, indebted to Julia for saving him from the streets, accepted the task, and through many experiments and sacrifices, he came up with this ‘medicine’.

“I’ll extract his blood back in my office. You should get ready for the games of today. I heard there is a big surprise, a new gladiator coming to prove themselves.” Caius mentioned as he grabbed the cleaver from the bottom of the trolley where many blankets waited to be drenched in the man’s blood, for when the doctor would start chopping him up in pieces in order to carry him out.

“Not a drop wasted. You hear me?” Caius nodded, the Omega bowing his head to another who pretended to be an Alpha. For being an Omega, Caius was very calm and collected, not letting his pheromones show at all, or make it known by his actions or reactions. Geta envied him. He knows that if an Alpha came along who could spark his interest he would immediately fold for them, submit in ways he wouldn’t be able to control.

He would rather kill himself than show submission to an Alpha.

He was sitting on the stone throne next to his brother, upon the closed imperial box next to the podiums where the elite Romans cheered. 

Caius sat behind him wearing new robes, the general Acacius behind Caracalla with his wife next to him. Geta’s attention went to Dondas, his brother’s pet, or best friend, or he doesn’t know if he considers her a sibling at this point. The monkey was making happy noises as Caracalla fed it small treats, a giggle in his lips. 

“I wonder what’s the surprise. I’ve been hearing we are going to be quite shocked, brother.” Caracalla says as he looks at Geta with a wicked smile on his face, yet excited. Geta reciprocates the gesture, his own crazed excitement building in his chest as he awaited to see how much blood might be spilled today. One of the things he liked the most was knowing that there were barbarian Omegas fighting below him sometimes, fighting for their lives, trying not to choke on their own blood after being stomped by elephants that were brought into the field.

He was a hidden omega ruler. He felt like he was a god, managing to make people worship him not knowing his true nature. His true intentions. The sick methods he has to go through in order to hide his true self. Yes, he should be considered a god among the Romans at this point. 

The announcer makes the soldiers behind him blow their horns as he steps out in the announcing box, the people cheering as he raises his hands with a smile on his face. The emperors clap with grins, getting more comfortable in their thrones as they wait for the announcement.

“Welcome! Today we have a very special surprise waiting for all of you!” The crowd cheers as Geta hears Caracalla clapping excitedly, cheering loudly, making him chuckle at seeing his adrenaline. “I hear you. This is no ordinary surprise. We caught a barbarian back on the island of Corsica. One who fought with every fiber of their being, and you would be surprised, but that barbarian is the one who caused the scar on General Acacius' face!” 

Geta’s eyes widened as he laughed, looking back to look at his general, who was closing his eyes in pity. The emperor didn’t understand the gesture, but the excitement didn’t lower at all in its levels. He felt his blood running hot in anticipation, the smell of excited Alphas around the podiums while there were cowering Omegas at the top balconies, the bottom of the social chain. 

“He got you good, didn’t he!?” Geta snickered as Acacius looked at him, an unreadable expression lingered, and the emperor turned his head again to keep listening as he played with the rings on his right hand.

“Fighting against lions who have been starved for over two days, here are the gladiators of this day!” The crowd cheers once again as the gates slowly open for the men to come out, having very dull swords as weapons and wooden shields but then the crowd gasps and remains silent as the last one comes out, the announcer wearing a smile on his face as the imperial box sits in shock, except for the wounded General.

“What in the heavens…” Caius exclaims in shock as Geta looks wide eyed at the field below him.

“And here I give you… The first ever barbarian woman to make it to the games!” 

Your walk was confident, your face clenched as you came to stand next to the other gladiators. Your sword in hand, the shield on the other, no different than the men that stood on the same patch of dirt as you did. And then, gasps, screams, yelps and whines coming from the crowd. Caracalla pinched his nose tightly as he gasped, Caius falling on his chair as he choked on his spit and then there was Geta.

Who was wide eyed in shock, his body trembling as there in the field stood a Female Alpha.

They were rare, very rare. The only Alpha woman he ever met was his aunt, who was stupidly judged, and exiled from the city. But that was not the only thing that made his breath cut short. It was the fact that he felt his body shake aggressively, his skin starting to profusely sweat in seconds and his breathing became elaborate as he stood up from his throne.

He felt his throat closing up on him the more he got of you, your scent too potent even from this distance. What were you? Were you a prime Alpha? Those were rare, and for you to be one, a woman, it shouldn’t be, it couldn’t. He saw how you were staring at the crowd who was still silent as they looked upon you, the men next to you fidgeting in fear as you all waited for the game to start.

And suddenly, wind picked up softly, Geta felt his robes moving thanks to it, not paying any mind as he kept looking your way. The wind slowly got to you, and your nostrils flared up in an instant. Geta saw how your eyes widened, how you lowered your sword as you slowly turned your head until it finally landed on him. Your eyes clashed with his and for the first time in his life–

‘SUBMIT.’

He fell back on his throne as he clutched his chest, Caius immediately getting up to kneel next to the emperor, seeing how Geta was sweating all over, making the doctor anxious as he whispered to him.

“You are washing away the medicine. What is going on, our lord?” But the emperor could not speak as he breathed heavily, looking down at you as your eyes stood fixated on him. The smell got worse. It was as if the dirt was burning, as if there were wine being spilled all over him. He felt his body growing hotter and then, you took a step towards the imperial box.

And the horns blew off.

“Let the game begin!” And Geta wanted to yell to stop it. Yell to cancel this game but– what would his excuse be? His head turned to Caius who was still looking at him worriedly. Caracalla leaned over with a worried frown and teary eyes.

“Are you okay, brother?” Geta gulped and nodded, trying to dismiss it as something trivial.

“Y-Yes, it caught me off guard.” His brother gave a nod and then smiled back into the field. A loud cheer was let out from him as the gates for the lions started to be pulled up. Geta’s eyes snapped towards the gates as he saw the lions roar loudly, hungry for the people that were on the field, leaping out at quick speed. 

His face contorted in worry as your eyes snapped to look towards the animals that were going to pounce on all of you. The first gladiator took a bite to the head as a lion lept towards him, while another one was able to cut a lion’s belly as he ducked when the beast jumped over him. The field became a bloodbath but the crowd’s eyes as well as the emperor’s never left your figure.

You were enraged, your movements aggressive as you stabbed, slashed, ducked, jumped over these beasts and no one was realizing you were doing this while getting closer to the imperial box. Every time you got closer, a lion came to attack you. You were covered in blood as the minutes went by, only three people remaining in the field out of the ten that got in, and two more lions.

One of the men got a bite out of his side and took the opportunity to stab the animal in the head, while the last lion attacked the man that was standing next to you, biting the middle of his stomach as he screamed in agony. You jumped on top of the lion’s back, the beast roaring loudly in distaste as you growled in a low and threatening demeanor, making the lion suddenly whimper. The crowd gasped as they witnessed how the lion slowly lost its struggle as you hissed loudly.

Geta could only stare as he trembled, the sound of your growl having sent electricity shocks all over his body, his hands gripping the armrests’ edge tightly, his knuckles turning white. Your eyes fixated on him again as the lion gave another roar, jerking upwards as it got out of the trance you put him in. 

The emperor stood up as he leaned towards the balcony’s edge, worry showing in his features when the lion started thrashing around with you on top of him. You held tightly around his neck, your arms coming together to begin a chokehold on the beast, the alpha pheromones making the entire crowd almost kneel in their place, even the Alphas. He wonders if the Omegas at the top had to be escorted out by now. 

Your right hand gripped your left elbow tightly as you used your entire strength to choke the animal that was now struggling more and more, throwing itself on the floor, rolling to try to get you off of it but you didn’t let it, even if your body fell to the sides, your arms never left its neck. You growled loudly as you bared your teeth, clamping onto the lion’s right ear and biting down fiercely. The animal roared in pain as you yanked and tore it all off, making it lose the air in its lungs thanks to the noise it had to make, slowly starting to wobble on its feet.

The crowd stood in silence as the lion finally tumbled to the ground leaving you panting on top of it. You slowly let go of your arms, unwrapping them from around the animal’s neck as you stood up again, grabbing the sword from the ripped-apart Omega the lion was eating before you jumped on top of it. Making sure it’s dead, you stabbed the animal’s head with it, and let the sword stay there as you finally looked up to see the imperial box, spitting the ear away.

Geta was gulping as he felt his thighs start to be covered in slick. He had to run away but his eyes were fixated on you, wanting to jump down from the balcony to rush to you, to kneel in front of you, to let himself be claimed once and for all. Why you? Why a woman? Why?

‘Submit. SUBMIT.’ 

The voice in his head was loud, knowing it was his omega side betraying him after all these years. The gate opened again to reveal soldiers coming out, ready for the emperor’s orders.

“MERCY! MERCY! MERCY!” He suddenly heard the crowd start cheering and he looked all over, at every single Alpha yelling for him to have mercy on this… woman. His eyes went back to you as you stared back at him, with blown out pupils, nose flaring and he knew you knew. He knew you could smell him despite it all. He knew you knew he was an Omega, and you were trying to make him submit to you.

He raised his trembling fist up, putting his thumb right in the middle. You have to die. You have to die right now. No one can know about him. You will destroy him because he knows you will tell everyone. He knows you will give his secret away. He has to kill you. He has to fucking let those soldiers rip you to shreds.

Caius was staring at the emperor as well as all the people that sat in the same box, waiting for his decision. The doctor knew something was going on. He never saw the emperor react this way, ever, and he could only guess it had to do with the Alpha barbarian standing in front of the imperial box with the blood of animals all over her as she breathed heavily while looking at Geta. Could it be?

“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”

‘Submit. Submit. Submit.’

“MERCY, MERCY, MERCY!”

‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’

His hand trembled. His finger was shaking as it remained in the middle. He has to kill you. Your guts have to fill the floor below you, make you learn your place. He doesn’t care if you're an Alpha. He doesn’t care. You have to fucking die.

And his thumb went upwards as the crowd cheered.

He was pacing back and forth in Caius’ office as the doctor looked through a book.

“There has to be an explanation! You’re my doctor so you can save me and protect me if anything were to happen to me!” Geta’s voice was strained as he felt his body burning all over, the medicine the doctor had prepared not helping at all as slick kept sliding down his legs, not being able to stop it.

“I am looking, but I cannot find anything. These are signs of heat.”

“But your suppressant things always help! They always help Caius!” He was borderline pathetically about to cry.

“Gods, I understand, trust me boy, I do! I don’t know why you got affected by that Alpha–”

“It doesn’t matter, because I’m planning on killing her tonight.” Caius' eyes widened, getting up from his chair so he could approach the emperor with shock on his face.

“She is now a known face around your loyal subjects. Even the Omegas cheered for her today. You will not be liked if you decide to kill her–”

“She knows.” That made the doctor stand frozen. How could you? You were so far away from them. You weren’t a prime alpha. He noticed it because he did not get afflicted as much as the emperor did. Prime Alphas make all omegas in their radius fall to their knees, and the only one that was about to crumble was Geta.

“How…?” The emperor shook his head, not knowing how to answer for he did not know. He doesn’t know how you managed it. Even over his homemade scent blocker that no one ever was able to break through, and over the immense distance the two of you had between each other.

“I will kill her tonight. I already bought her and they’re bringing her to my chamber and cuffing her to the bed.” Caius could only reluctantly nod at the emperor’s orders, sighing.

“I will prepare the medical kit–”

“Alone.” Caius’ eyes widened, shaking his head furiously.

“No! You cannot be alone with an Alpha like that! We don’t know why you are weak to their scent and–” Geta pushed the doctor away from him, to then slap him right across the face. The emperor breathed heavily as Caius held his cheek in shock, looking back at the man before him. Anger filled the slapped Omega, giving Geta a slow bow. “As you wish.”

“I will call on you if I need help. So stay behind the doors.” He ordered his doctor and said man only bowed once more, making the emperor straighten up and fix his night robe, chest showing until his happy trail poked from the bottom of it. He took a deep breath in as he felt his heart hammering in his chest. He walked out of Caius’ office, with the doctor following right behind him. They quickly moved to avoid guards from smelling the Emperor. They passed by Caracalla’s room, who was put to sleep by raw chamomile herbs Caius gave him so he wouldn’t wake up in any way in the night.

He stopped in his tracks when he was outside his own chambers. He could smell you. He could smell your potent Alpha stench, overpowering everything around you, and he felt his knees tremble underneath him. He shouldn’t go in. He should go in at least with Caius so he could help take care of you, but the thought of someone seeing you like that made him want to growl. His mouth trembled as he felt his heart about to implode in itself, the hammering of it against his chest almost painful. 

“I will be out here, dominus.” Geta turned to look at him and gave him one single nod, handing him the key to the chains that held his door together. 

“Open it once I tell you it is done, or if I need help. Got it?” The doctor gave the emperor an understanding nod, and proceeded to sit on the bench that was placed next to the entrance of his room. Geta took a deep breath in and stared at the handle of his door, his hand reaching to grab it, shaking as he felt the slick gushing out of him the more he smelled you.

He held the air in and pushed the door open. The scent was now stronger, way stronger than before, and it made him want to stumble back from the power of it. He closed the door behind him and he heard the chains moving, knowing Caius had locked them inside. His head turned to walk into the dimly lit room by the candles, his big bed right in the middle with golden bedposts and sheets draping from the edges of it. 

You were lying there in the middle, hands cuffed with iron prison cuffs on his bed posts, arms spread as your back rested against the headboard. Your head was hung low and he heard how you took a sharp breath in before slowly lifting your gaze up at him. His legs almost gave up on him as your eyes settled on him, his neck sweating as he gulped loudly. Your face and body were cleaned, wearing just a hitched-up tunic over you, but– 

His eyes widened when he saw the tent you had on your bottom half.

A dark chuckle was heard in the room, his eyes flying to meet yours once again. You looked feral, yet he couldn’t help to think you were the most beautiful alpha he had ever seen in his entire life. He licked his lips as he slowly approached the bed, just small steps, and your eyes traveled to his exposed chest and back to his face.

“Nice to meet you, lord.” Your voice was mockingly sweet, yet with sarcasm filled all over. He wanted to kiss your lips to see if he could taste your voice, but he had to keep a straight face and a stoic mind. He had one task tonight, and he had to complete it. He couldn't fail.

“Name.” You stared at him for a long while, your mind not moving, and his eyes were big in frustration, his teeth slowly baring. “NAME!” 

You wanted to laugh because of the false Alpha tone he tried to use, but you humored him, telling him your name. 

“Why did you buy me off?” Geta rounded the bed, standing far still as he cocked his head your way.

“Because I have to kill you.” At his words, you let out a loud cackle, your head hitting the headboard behind you. Geta’s eyes were wide and in shock as he saw how your laughter slowly lowered as seconds passed.

“Oh, really? Why is that?”

“Because I say so.” His response was short, but a smile was kept on your lips as your head tilted to look at him with an incredulous look in your face.

“Are you sure it is just for that reason… Omega?” 

He choked on his own breath as he felt a punch, a cramp happening in his belly. It was painful, yet it caused more slick to gush down his legs, stumbling backwards from just a mere word you said to him. Something no one ever called him before, not even his own mother. Your eyes were piercing through him and he felt his body burning as he grabbed a sword from the weapon rack and marched towards you, pressing the tip of it on your throat.

“You know too much. I have to kill you, you dumb stupid Alpha!” You chuckled, feeling the tip of the pointy metal on your skin.

“How did you do it?” You asked and he huffed, shaking his head. You closed your eyes and he saw how you took a sniff out of the air, a smirk appearing on your lips. “Alpha blood. Ingenious.”

“Good job on finding that out you filth. And I don’t know if you’re dumb or a knothead like all Alphas are, but you do realize why I need to kill you now, don’t you?” He tried to make his voice sound authoritative, hating how it didn’t sound at all like yours even if you were a woman. Your voice was strong, made to obey. Your laughter made every joint of his become pliant, wanting to just get on the bed and on top of you, take what he wanted from you.

“No, you won’t.” Your laughter ceased, only glaring at him and he snarled, pressing the tip even harder against your skin, pricking it and letting blood flow out. 

“An emperor does not give out empty threats you damned slug! Why do you believe I won’t, huh!? What makes you believe I will have any mercy for you right now?” And a confident smile spread on your lips and it made his belly cramp once again as his eyebrows twitched at your stance.

“Because you want me, Omega. You want me to taste you, take that purity away from you, knot you and breed you until your womb takes.” Your statements made his palms sweat, his body convulsing as the heat spread all over him, his eyes becoming glossed over as he stared at you, and his hand lost its strength, making the sword fall down and onto the floor.

Out of nowhere, you lifted your body off the headboard, ripping your hands away from the cuffs. His eyes were wide as he saw blood coming down your forearms, the skin around your wrists now teared thanks to the friction of getting your hands out of those constricting iron bracelets. He didn’t notice you had been slowly wiggling your way out of them and, how could he have been so naive? 

You kneeled up, grabbing the back of his head, getting hold of his scalp and hair in a tight and painful grip that made him yelp. He tried breaking free, but his strength was not there. He huffed in pain as you threw him on the bed, making him bounce on it and the moment he did, he felt your scent ten times stronger. You have been sweating over his sheets, and– Fuck– Fuck, he could smell your precum. He could smell it.

“No–! Let go!” You growled at the Omega’s defiance when you straddled him over his hips, and for the first time in his life, Geta shut up. His eyes were wide as he looked at how your hands immediately grabbed onto the string of his robes and pulled. He gasped and was about to yell only for a choke to escape him when he felt you punch him right in the stomach, a wave of nausea washing over him.

“Don’t underestimate the strength of an Alpha in a semi-rut, Omega.” His robes opened, falling on his sides and your eyes raked over him as he held his stomach, coughing from the punch you gave him. 

“Damn you…” You weren’t listening to him, and his eyes followed yours, and he realized you were looking at his loincloth, how drenched it was thanks to his slick, and he clenched around nothing at all as he smelled how aroused you were, a twitch happening on the tent over the skirt of your tunic.

“How threatening…” Your hand grabbed onto one of his wrists, his body trying to make him go limp for you, to submit, but he cannot let it, so his legs start kicking up, trying to get you off him, which only made you laugh as your grip around his wrist tightened, fingers digging into his flesh. “-- An Omega in heat is as strong as a thread of silk.”

Geta’s body was reddened, the burning of his blood becoming unbearable each second that passed. You were strong, very strong, or like you said, he was weak at this point. He let his instincts decide your fate, and he shouldn’t have trusted them. He shouldn’t have trusted his stupid instincts because they were clearly in your favor. He delivered a swat to your face with his free hand, which you dodged easily, an unamused look on your face as you stared him down. Your eyebrow twitched at how much he was moving around as you tried to put his wrist over his head.

“Stop moving or I'll cut your legs off.” Your voice was low, a tone that was never used on him before, something that made his insides turn in delight, in disgust, in excitement, in shame. His body fell limp beneath you as he tried to make it listen to him again, but his mind was clouded for a few seconds, tears filling his eyes from the sudden need. The sudden need of you. 

You put his hands over his head, tying them together with the sling of his robe, and then tied the end of it to one of the cuffs you got yourself out from. Your eyes went towards your own wrists, seeing the open wounds, your raw flesh exposed as it stung slightly. You would have to take care of it later, and the emperor’s eyes followed your sight to see the wounds you provoked on yourself.

Your eyes widened when you heard a small whine. It was very small, and short, but it was enough for your ear to pick up the sound. Geta’s face was that of shock, not knowing where the sound had come from, nor why he did it against his own will. 

“Aw… does someone care for their Alpha?” That made Geta’s anger arise despite the arousal and the slick gushing out of his cunt. A cunt he hid for so many years, putting items in his loincloth to make it pretend he had a bulge. A cunt that is now clenching over nothing as it begs to be touched for the first time, and not by just anyone. You. It wants you. He hissed, baring his teeth at you as he yanked on the binds you put on his wrists.

“You are not my Alpha! I have no Alpha! Never will!” That made your face twitch with distaste, your nose scrunching up slightly but then you let out a small chuckle, catching his attention. 

“Oh, but I am. And you are my Omega, and if you think that I’m going to let you walk out of this room a virgin and unbred, you are greatly mistaken, my lord.” 

‘Submit.’

“No– No–! CAIUS! CAIUS!!!” He started screaming as the voice in his mind became loud, and consistent, making his body grow weaker and the slick between his legs thicker. He yelled for his doctor, but he heard no chains being opened. He heard nothing, making his heart plummet to the pit of his stomach. You looked over your shoulder and back down at him with a twisted smile.

“It seems someone ditched you, my emperor.”

‘Mate. Mate. Mate.’

“No, no, no, no– I worked too hard– No!” He kept screaming his doctor’s name, and you just watched him, waiting for his vocal cords to fail on him, for him to grow tired. His arms were still fighting, his legs trying to kick you off still, and you pressed yourself harder onto his hips, right on his pained belly. His voice cut off, making him grunt as he threw his head back at the feeling of pressure on his cramps.

“You can’t fight it. You were mine the moment I stepped into that field, as well as I became yours.” Those words made him look at you, his eyes connecting with yours and a shock of electricity rushed through both of your bodies, a sweat of pleasure washing over as a moan came out of your lips and his. His legs stopped moving, falling limp on the bed as he breathed heavily, his hivemind slowly taking over, his rationality being thrown out a balcony in the lapse of minutes. Everything he worked for, all of his resolve, was rendered to nothing in these few moments he spent with you.

“I– I should kill you…” You shook your head at him, a grin on your lips. 

“Let me show you why you shouldn’t.” Geta felt his skin as if acid had been thrown on it. It was burning him, painfully, but with pleasure. He had never experienced a proper heat because of how much he rejected his designation, and he is still wondering how did you of all people manage to trigger it. 

He gasped when you leaned forward, pressing your lips on his chest, your tongue lolling out to lick some of his sweat away, a pleased moan residing in your throat. He whimpered, trying to hold the stupid and pathetic moan in, just by you licking him. You licked your lips before placing another kiss to his collarbone, then moving up to his neck, your nose grazing his mating gland for just a second, but it was enough for the emperor to flinch in fear, your head snapping to look at him.

“No– No, don’t–”

“No need to fear me… I won’t. But you will want it by the end of this.” He wanted to scoff and deny your words, but as soon as your mouth pressed against his pulse point, he was rendered speechless, choking on his spit as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull. He could feel your lips, your tongue licking all over, your teeth nibbling on him, tasting every little piece of skin that you could. He suddenly felt you sucking on his flesh, making his eyes snap open, his body wiggling underneath you.

“No marks! Don’t you dare in the hells mark me!” At his defiance, you growled, your teeth clamping on the side of his throat, and he cried out of pain, fear, your teeth way too close to his mating gland. You were not going to listen to him, adamant to keep up the intention of making him yours. You pulled away from him, looking down at his face, your lips stained red because of the blood you drew from the bite.

“Don’t you dare order me.”

“I am the Emperor… I can command anyone to kill you in just a second! You should fear me, not defy me, much less–” His voice was cut short when your hand immediately wrapped around his throat, his arms yanking against the bindings you made, trying to set free as he choked on your hold, his legs kicking up behind you, but your strength– it was too great.

“Don’t threaten me, Omega. You are talking way too much for someone who is pinned on the bed with no way of protecting himself at all.” He whined underneath your hold, and then he winced when he felt a cramp punch him right in his bottom half. They were getting worse each second that passed and his mind was losing oxygen because of your hold. You immediately let go of him, and he choked for air as you stared down at him. 

“You’re… You’re crazy.” He spat out with venom. He hated you. He hated you. He wanted to kill you. He wanted to rip your chest open to take your heart out. He wanted to dip his hand in the middle of your stomach to take your intestines out… He hated you. He hated that he wanted you. He hated the fact you were making his slick come out in quantities he never experienced before. He hated that he wanted you to take his purity away.

He hated that he wanted to submit his Omega to your Alpha.

“You’re one to talk, now shut the hell up.” Your mouth went back down to kiss his chest, making him groan as you kissed your way towards his left nipple. He gasped as your mouth enveloped it, your tongue flicking the nub over and over again until it perked up. He whimpered as his body trembled at each flick, not expecting it to feel this good. He had touched himself, but he was untouched by others. The concubines were a fake, a show he put on to make him more believable, to make his facade the more believable.

He wanted to protest but his mouth did not move because his body was succumbing to what you were making him feel for the very first time. Your mouth went to his right nipple to give him the same attention you gave the left one and his back arched slightly off the bed, making you chuckle underneath your breath. You were loving his reactions, and he knew you were because your excitement could be detected through your arousal. He knew his bed sheets would have to be burnt in the morning… if he survived until then.

Your lips started trailing down as your body moved, crawling backwards as you kissed his navel, making him jerk from the sensation, goosebumps being displayed all over his arms and chest. You licked around his belly button, and he whined at the strange feeling, not knowing he was sensitive in that area at all, but then his eyes widened when he felt your body wiggling itself in between his legs, trying to spread them apart but he did his best to keep them closed.

A warning growl came from you and his body acted against his will as his legs spread open for you to finally slot yourself in the middle, your fingers hooking on the edge of his cloth and he held his breath in. The only one who had ever touched him there for inspection had been Caius to check on his health and overall look of it. His body trembled in anticipation, nerves, fear, excitement, lust - he no longer knew, yet, you didn’t pull his cloth down, your lips pressing against his left inner thigh.

Were you trying to calm him down?

He felt the air becoming lighter, as if a weight had been taken off his chest, a weight he didn’t know was there at all. He could breathe more easily now, and he realized you had released soothing pheromones in the air for him. He didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You looked like you were going to take what you wanted no matter what he said, yet you also acted like he was the most delicate flower there was.

“Calm.” It was authoritative, but not like the other times. He felt like there was no threat behind the voice, but rather a warm blanket of a caring emotion. He wanted to laugh at that statement. You had punched him in the stomach for him to stop struggling, there is nothing caring about this. Yet–

He gasped when you licked the slick that was stuck on his inner thighs, and a pleasured growl vibrated throughout the whole room. You were tasting him. Someone was tasting him for the very first time and he didn’t think this day would ever come. He assumed he would have died a virgin for the sole purpose to rule until the end of his days. Rule. He has to rule. His mind snapped back into reality for a second, finding his voice once again.

“Y– You can’t–” He didn’t want to stop, his body didn’t want you to stop, but what about the rest? Everything he struggled with, everything he had to do to be where he is right now, all being thrown down into a pit of snakes because of you, because of your goddamn existence.

“I can, I will and you won’t be able to stop screaming for me, Omega.” He snarled at the name, not wanting to be called that, he wasn’t used to it, no matter how right his body told him it was, his mind could not fathom it. Your fingers hooked on the edges of his cloth once more and you started taking them off, making him gulp loudly as he felt the coldness of the room hit him right on his wet cunt, sending shivers all over his body.

You had your eyes closed, nose flaring aggressively as you took off this piece of fabric. He saw you throwing the loincloth away, and you finally opened your eyes, staring at the untouched cavity no one had the pleasure to be in or taste before. A place that was never to be seen by others, touched, or defiled. Your breathing grew elaborate as you smelled him. You smelled the slick dripping down towards the crack of his ass and down to his robe that you never got to take off.

His eyes looked down towards your tunics, the tent still up, and his head started to wander. What size could it be? Do female Alphas have the same size? Smaller? Thinner? His curiosity is there, he wants to know, but he knows he shouldn’t because the moment he sees your member he is probably going to submit completely and he is not ready for that. Not yet. 

“You are pretty. The gods have really blessed you with it.” Your voice was anything but sarcastic or with venom. It was honest, and you almost sounded drunk. He wiggled slightly underneath you, feeling the embarrassment of being watched so intensely for the first time. Watched with another intent than just giving him a medical check-up. 

“S-Stop. I didn’t ask for it. If it were for me I would have never chosen it!” His voice was loud, high pitched, and his hands yanked once more, feeling his arms growing tired from being in the air for a while now. You were still looking down at his center, completely out of it, high off of his scent. You slowly bent down, laying on your stomach as you positioned your face right in front of his entrance. He was wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling, not knowing what to do in this situation. 

He felt a cold air sharply brushing over his small cocklette. He looked down to see you blowing over him, sending shivers all over his body, and goosebumps on his legs and arms. You didn’t react to him, your mouth still agape as you stared at his core. You closed your eyes as you took a sharp intake of his smell, and then exhaled, opening your eyes again to lock them with his own. His breath hitched in his throat, wanting to fight back, wanting to push you off, but his body was betraying him. After all these years, his body is retaliating back.

He threw his head back when he felt your tongue sharply lick from the bottom of his slit, to the top, and then flick his cocklette in one movement. A gasp got stuck in his throat at the new sensation. What was that? He could have been feeling that all this while, and he was willing to never know about this for the sole purpose of keeping his throne?

Yes. Yes, he was. 

“Stop–” He needed you to stop because if you didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from calling out to you. To call out for you. 

“No. This is mine.” You said in a growl, surprising him with how possessive you sounded. How brutal that statement was, yet it wasn’t unpleasant to him even if he wanted to feel it was. Before he could answer, his back arched upwards, his mouth falling open as you started circling his cocklette with the tip of your tongue, to then take it into your mouth. 

“Damn you–” He clenched his teeth together as he held in his sounds of pleasure, trying to focus on not enjoying it, focus on his throne, focus on rome. But it was hard to do when you were slurping him as if he were the ambrosia Demeter promised Demophon of Athens. And he was. To you he was even more than that, more delightful, as if you were tasting all constellations. You let go of his cocklette with a pop, drool already pooling at the corner of your mouth.

“You taste delightful… delicious… remarkable.” Your tongue lolled out to lick a strip all over his slicked up folds. His body trembled beneath you, your hands on his inner thighs to keep them separated, and for him to not have a surge of power and clamp them together over your head.

“Ngh–” He was holding back his moans, the more you licked, the more he sweat and the more scent he was exuding. He didn’t want to give in to the pleasure. He didn’t want to give in to you. He didn’t want to yet his body was reacting, and betraying him over and over again and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop you. He couldn’t stop this.

You kept licking, tasting, ravishing him with your tongue in ways he never thought he would experience. This was never supposed to happen in his entire life and yet, there you were, between his legs, eating his biggest secret. And he was loving it. His body was absolutely ecstatic of feeling like this for the first time in its life and his mind was slipping away each lick of yours, each sucking on his cocklette. 

He gasped as his back arched off the bed when your tongue entered him. He didn’t know what to think of it, feeling you inside, feeling something inside for the first time in his life aside from his own fingers. He whimpered as he felt you swirling around inside of him, your moans vibrating against his core, and he could hear your slurping as he felt more slick coming out of him.

You were addicted, and he could smell how much you were enjoying him. He wanted to hate it, hate the fact you were enjoying yourself so much, but no… he was so happy. He wanted to chirp for the first time in his life, knowing you… an Alpha, was aroused by pleasuring him. That you were finding him delicious. That you wanted to make him climb into those mountains of pleasure no one ever took him before, and much less reach the very peak of them.

You pulled away with a gasp for air, and he lifted his head to look down at you, seeing how you licked all over your lips, still looking at his center with blacked out eyes. His legs trembled as his belly twirled around with need for more, a rope that was slowly becoming tighter with the intent of snapping apart.

“The gods were so good to you… making you this delicious, and only for me to taste.” Your voice was sultry and as if you were not entirely there. It was low, with the hint of a purr in the background of it and Geta’s skin grew goosebumps because again, he was delighted to hear an Alpha purr for him. Yet, a bit of his rational mind, or what he thought was rational, remained.

“I never asked for it–” His eyes widened when he felt your middle finger running along his slit, wetting it with his slick. He tensed up, clenching on nothing as nerves and fear overtook him for a second, yanking on his arms once again. He felt you kiss his right inner thigh and then a purring voice.

“I am going to take care of you… relax.” His omega does as told instantly, relaxing for you as he slumped back on the bed, not knowing how tense his entire body got. You hummed in approval, pushing your finger in, slowly, letting him engulf you at his pace. His mouth fell agape, his head falling back on the pillow underneath him. He felt you invaded him, a stranger, and he should hate it. He should hate it just like he always thought he would have and yet, he wants to moan out your name.

He wants to call out for you.

His belly cramped in pleasure, and he heard a chuckle coming from you, but he didn’t have the strength in him to retort at you, or to snap like he always does. You let him adjust around your finger for a second before pulling out and pushing back in again. The feeling was foreign coming from another person, and much more when it was an Alpha. It was as if the pleasure was heightened. As if he had an aphrodisiac injected into him, and he could only blame his heat for this.

You started thrusting your middle finger in and out of him, and his body flushed all over, heat engulfing him from head to toe, burning him as if he were inside an iron bull. His eyes closed as he fought to keep his mouth closed, but it was getting harder and harder to keep his noises in. You felt him slick your finger, making it so easy to slip in and out of him, so you decided to add your ring finger, slowly, pushing it next to your other one and the Emperor gasped, a strangled small moan escaping him for the first time in the night.

“What a good Omega. If it feels good, you have to let yourself enjoy it, pretty one.” He whined at your words, but still he wanted to listen to you as you started pumping your fingers in and out of him. Small little pants escaped him as his body moved slightly, up and down on the bed thanks to your thrusts. The rope started getting tighter and he wanted to curse the hells for making his body this way. It was all because of your designations, it’s just because of that reason only.

His walls started fluttering around you, and his legs trembled, letting you feel the reaction with your free hand which was still gripping his inner thigh, nails digging into the flesh. Your hips were rubbing against the mattress below you, trying to get friction and your growls of need started vibrating on every single wall of the room. Your cock had fully come out, and you needed to knot the Omega below you before your semi-rut makes you go insane. 

You curled your fingers upwards at the same time you engulfed his cocklette into your mouth, sucking eagerly and feeling some of his slick coming out of the tip of it. He let out a cry of pleasure as he felt something weird. It was different and it felt too good. You were rubbing something deep within him that he had never felt in his entire life. Was this his heat? It was making his belly cramp as his orgasm got closer and closer, ready to unravel him in front of you.

You kept slurping on him as your fingers increased their pace in short and quick movement, abusing that soft spot inside of him that was making him tremble underneath you, trying to move around, not knowing what to do with his body. He knew his scent was a mix of emotions, but he didn’t know what to think of this. It was a pleasure he never felt in his life, and his moans were now unrestrained, making you purr against him.

“W– What is– Oh, I’m–” You hummed against him, urging him to finally let go on you, to let himself get washed away in a tsunami of pleasure. A pleasure you are giving him. 

The constellations flashed over his eyes as his back arched off the bed, his wrists yanking against the restraints as his thighs wanted to clamp on anything because he felt he was on fire down there, clamping around your fingers like a vice. His belly burnt and tightened as his climax crushed through him and his mouth opened, ready to call out for you for who you were. But his own gush of slick cut him off, surprising him as his cries were heard around the room. 

You took everything he gave you from his cocklette, gulping it all down as you slowed your fingers, helping him ride his orgasm out. He was having some spasms as you felt him unclench around you, slowly pulling your mouth and fingers away from him. He let his body fall slump on the bed, and you saw how his chest went up and down with heavy breaths. You looked down at his center, your tongue licking all the slick that was coming out from his orgasm.

“So delicious, damn you…” You mumbled into him as he twitched, little whimpers of overstimulation escaping him. He felt his sight slowly coming back to him, and he didn’t understand why but… he wasn’t satisfied. His belly started hurting again and he realized that he wasn’t going to ever be until he was knotted. He needed a knot… your knot.

Your ministrations were cut off when you heard a small sob coming from above you. You immediately pulled away from him, crawling up his body, both hands now resting on each side of his head as you looked down at him. He was whining, tears running down his eyes, his charcoal liner leaving dark streaks from the corner and towards his ears. Your hand reached over, slowly touching his cheek only for him to hiss and shove his head away from you.

“You… You are just going to take it…” You tilted your head at him, confused. Your arousal was interrupted with worry and he didn’t understand why you were acting this way when all you wanted was to break him.

“Take it…? Your vir–”

“My throne. You– You are going to take my throne…” His tears started rolling down once again as he shook his head. “You are going to reveal who I am, and it will be over for me, and–” 

He gasped when he felt your lips on his forehead, a surge of calmness washing over him. He could smell your scent, a warm and kind fire. The scent of lemongrass all around him, something he didn’t smell on you before. You pulled away as you shook your head at him, his mind reeling with confusion.

“I don’t want your throne.”

“What? Don’t you dare jester me–”

“I just want you, Omega. We are destined.” At those words, Geta’s eyebrows pinched right in the middle, not understanding what you were saying at all.

“What are you saying?” You chuckled, a genuine smile on your lips, despite all that hard exterior you had shown him all night and at the games, making his body tremble slightly underneath you.

“We are scent mates. You were the only scent in my life to trigger a small rut and it seems I am the only one who could trigger a heat on you, despite any method you took to avoid them and suppress them.” 

The Emperor was stunned at your words. Was there something like that in the world? He never heard of it before, and Caius didn’t either because he didn’t find anything on that subject. Scent mates… then, it means he cannot leave you. He cannot kill you. He cannot make you leave because he doesn’t want to. He can’t.

“Y– You… how… I don’t– I don’t want to give up my throne–”

“And you won’t. Make me your second general in command. I am a very respected Alpha back in my city, and I have an army of three thousand barbarians.” He blinked a few times up at you, his mind blank as it slowly started filling with warmth and with some clarity. His hivemind started to take control of him the more he heard you talk.

“You want… to give me your army?” You nodded at that, your hand reaching out to rub his cheek once again and this time he didn’t pull away, letting you rub against his skin, his eyes closing as his chest warmed up to the feeling. 

“Protecting you is my number one priority. If you want to rule as an Alpha or an Omega, it’s your choice, but I will stand behind you, not in front of you, my Omega. I would never forsake you.”

And his body felt as if it were laying on clouds. It felt as if he was enveloped in warm comforters crafted by the olympus with gold linen all over the seams. Your eyes showed honesty, and he could smell that you were in fact being truthful to him. Why didn’t you start with that? Why didn’t you begin with those words so he could fully enjoy you? To let him fully succumb to this heat and the need to mate with you?

“Protect me… Alpha.” He saw your body tremble, a strangled moan choking you up as he saw your eyes turn deep black once again. “Untie me.”

You looked down at him for a few seconds, your breaths starting to become heavier as your mind started slipping away into a knothead rut. You managed to let a shaky breath out of your lips as your hands reached over to untie him, struggling a little thanks to the trembling of your fingers. His gaze was stuck on your face, his chest going up and down as he breathed heavily, feeling the string of his robe coming undone, his wrists burning from the friction, but he no longer cared.

His arms immediately wrapped around your shoulders, his face flushing with rosy cheeks as you looked down on him. He didn’t know what to do, but his instincts were telling him to try and lunge forward, do something, and gladly, you realized and took that initiative for him. Your lips clashed on his and he immediately whimpered in ecstasy, feeling a current of electricity running through his bones as your arms wrapped around him.

His hands started going down towards your neck, feeling how hot your skin was, basking on being able to finally touch you. Your lips moved desperately on eachother, sloppy, messy, filled with drool and tongue. It makes your length twitch underneath your tunics, making you groan. Your hips connected with his middle, and you both moaned into each other’s mouths as you started slowly swaying back and forth on him.

He could feel you. It was big from what he could guess, and his core slicked all over at the thought of getting knotted by you. Never in his life he thought he would hear those words in his head. His cocklette was being rubbed in the most delicious of ways, making him whimper and groan in your mouth. Your moans were sweet, deep, and in need, and he cannot believe his destined Alpha would be a woman. He never thought of the possibility of there ever being a destined person, or a scent mate in his life. He was never taught that or no one ever gave him a slight mention of it.

But it seems that’s because of royalty. You came from a city filled with legends, old tales, no one to rule over you. A community being a community. He doesn’t understand it.

You pulled away from him, kneeling up and undoing the string in the middle of your tunics. He was staring at you, rising up on his elbows to take a better look at you as you pulled the fabric up and away from you, revealing you had no underwear on yourself. That’s why he could feel you so harshly. His eyes widened when he saw you, all ready, throbbing, hard, large, and with precum coming out of your tip.

And his mouth salivated.

He whimpered as his eyes turned glossy, fully sitting up, his body acting on pure impulse and desire. He leaned forward, tongue lolling out, to tentatively lick the tip of your lenght. You choked on a growl, both hands coming to cover your mouth. He could sense the spike of arousal in you, and he could taste it on his tongue as more precum oozed out of you. He smirked, looking up at you while his hand engulfed your base.

“So pretty for me, Alpha.” And you were. You were beautiful. Your breasts, your perky nipples waiting for his mouth, for his touch. Your pupils completely engulfing the irises of your eyes. You were perfect. A perfect Alpha and just for him. He saw you shiver and he heard you whimper for the first time in the night, the roles reversing for a split second.

“Please…” You moaned out, and he looked back down at your throbbing shaft that bobbed for attention on his face. He didn’t know how to do this. He wasn’t skilled, he had no experience, but god, does he want to satisfy his Alpha with everything he has in him. He moved forward again as you stayed kneeled up, his hands coming to grip your backside as he kissed the tip of your length.

You couldn’t help the moan with his name on your lips as he kept giving kisses and tentative licks to it. His hands went upwards to hold onto your breasts, a moan escaping him as he felt your nipples on his palms. He fondled them, basking on them, worshipping the first pair of breasts he ever touched without any fabric or coverage on them. He often did it to his ‘concubines’ to keep appearances, but never touched them raw like he is now and he is loving it. His kisses traveled along the length, reaching your base and you shivered as you let your hands drop to your sides again as your head fell backwards.

You smelled so good to him, making more of his juices gush out of him, staining the robe beneath him and probably seeping through it and down to his sheets. Now he doesn’t want to burn them at all. He wants to keep them unwashed for days, or weeks, just so he can smell you every minute and hour of the day. He got your nipples in between his index fingers and thumbs, pinching and rolling them as he felt you jerk slightly on his grasp.

He finally opened his mouth to take the tip of your shaft into his mouth, the head of it feeling excellent on his tongue as he swirled it around. You whined as your hand went to the back of his head, running your fingers through his ginger hair as you basked on how good he looked doing this to you. Suddenly, he whined as a cramp kicked in his belly, making him pull away from you, his hands coming to rest on it.

Your arousal got interrupted as worry for your Omega took over, your free hand coming to hold his cheek so he could look up at you. He had a tear running down his face as his face reddened in need.

“I– I don’t know– Something is missing–”

“Your nest, my sun. Your nest is missing.” You instantly pulled away from him, a desperate whine escaping him as you stepped off from the bed to grab your tunic again, crawling towards him again, handing the garment to him. “Smell this.”

He did as instructed, his hands snatching your tunic away, his nose dipping into the filthy cloth only for your scent to fill his lungs. He moaned at it, his head whipping behind him to look at his pillows. He shrugged his robe off, moving in order to get it off from under him as well, and he placed it on one side of his pillow, while your tunic was put on the other side. His belly uncramped slightly, but it was hungry for more.

He kneeled up, turning around to see you again and he had to look down slightly to be able to meet your gaze. He was panting as his whimpers were coming out of his mouth, not being able to control them. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to him, your shaft in between the both of you, smearing your own seed on his body.

“Please… I–” You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down for a kiss. He moaned into it, his palms flat all over your back, touching everywhere he could as you two kissed fervently.

‘Submit.’

He pulled away, laying back down on the bed, spreading his legs to reveal his wet center to you and his hand was raised for you to take it. You took it and he pulled you into him, falling in between his legs, your chest hitting his. Your lips found his jaw, kissing it gently and you could hear him whimper as his hips canted upwards onto your length, making you hiss.

“I will take care of you. I’ll make the pain go away, Omega.” And Geta purred, for the first time in his life. He had never purred, not even for his own mother or brother. He had denied his designation since the first minute, and he denied having any omega behaviour, even as small as a whine. 

It felt good.

Your eyes widened at the sound, your shaft now slickened up thanks to rubbing it up and down his folds and against his cocklette. Your canines elongated as a deep growl in delight, assimilating a purr, vibrated in your throat. Your hips went backwards and your tip caught onto his entrance, making his breath hitch. His hands were on your waist, while yours were caging his head against the bed.

“I’m ready, my Alpha.” You shivered at the sound of that. My. Mine. Yes, it sounded right. You started pushing forward, slowly, torturous for you, but new to him. His eyes widened as he threw his head back onto the pillows, tilting his head to where your tunic was for your scent to fill his nostrils. He couldn’t find his voice as you kept splitting him open, feeling this new intrusion inside of him, a much bigger one. 

“Relax, my sun. You need to relax for me…” He tried to let go of the air he was holding in, slowly, trying to get his breathing under control. Your lips connected to his neck, giving it soft pecks as he felt your hot breath on his skin. That made him relax, untense, his body falling deeper into his soft bed. The moment he unclenched on you, you kept going, breaching him open as his digits dug into your waist.

He felt himself shaking as he felt the extreme pleasure running all over his limbs, as well as the pain of the loss of his virginity. But you were being so careful with him, and he felt protected by you. A gift sent by the gods themselves. He didn’t know you were thinking the exact same thing, and now you didn’t feel any sadness towards your city. The invasion caused you to meet him, it caused you to finally reach him and be where you are now.

He choked on his spit when there was some strain as you were about to bottom out in him. It was painful, making him hiss at the pain, but his belly was screaming for you to break it. It needed you to break it. It was just one more little push, one more little thrust and his purity will be long gone. Your eyes locked with his, and he saw how fast your breathing was, how flushed you looked, how much you were holding yourself back with him, even in a semi-rut. He gave you one nod and–

“Damn–!” He cried out as you gave one strong thrust, finally getting through the restraint. You let out a breath, choking on it as you took another in, shaking as you did while looking down at where you two were connected, pelvis to pelvis. His eyes were closed as he tried to adjust to you, thinking it was going to be impossible but it was becoming so easy as he kept letting his strangled breaths out. 

You couldn’t begin to explain what you were feeling. It was as if you solved the logical explanation of a long lost legend. As if you’ve won a war that would give you everything you’ve ever wanted. And for the Emperor, he felt like conquering something more than Rome, than all the cities around him. You were more than anything he ever put his power onto. 

Your eyes met his, his right hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you down into a kiss that made you twitch inside of him, and he felt the first sweat of pleasure all over his body, making him moan into your mouth. He pulled away from you, keeping his nose against yours as he looked into your eyes.

“Move.” He commanded, the roles now reversed, and you didn’t mind it at all. Your hips went backwards, and he groaned as he looked down where you were connecting with him as you slowly pushed back in. His face contorted into a pleasured one in an instant as he felt you against his walls, making him look into your eyes again. Your jaw was clenched, setting a slow pace on him to accustom him to the feeling.

He started letting out soft breaths as the pleasure grew more intense the more you thrusted into him. It felt like he was slowly losing himself, his mind telling him things he never thought of before. Mating. Breeding. Him pregnant with your pups. His round belly as he looked at himself in the mirror. He wondered if your thoughts were going in the same direction as his.

“You feel so good, my Omega.” He flustered at that, his mouth opening to let out a moan as you quickened the pace, and his fingers dug into the back of your neck and your side. He started feeling his belly turn in delight, more slick than ever coming out of him and around you, smearing all of his sheets and your pelvis and thighs. 

“More– More–” He couldn’t recognize his desperate voice, feeling a need like never before. You kneeled up with a groan, getting hold of his knees as his hands fell to his sides. He was confused as he panted only for his eyes to widen when you started moving rougher, your hips now snapping against his, and he heard the skin slapping, his core squelching thanks to how much slick he produced. 

You were moaning, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, and his cries for you grew louder, calling out your name, a new prayer in his lips. He felt himself burning, his body just engulfed in flames as if Hell had sucked him in for punishment. He felt you going in and out of him, your hips angling at one point and–

He gasped as a whimper followed when he felt that sweet spot being hit by your tip once more. He didn’t care what it was anymore, just that it felt divine. His hands gripped the sheets below him as you kept that rough pace, sweat all over your body, nails digging into his knees as you kept his legs spread for you. He was crying out for you, looking at you through hooded lids, tears of pleasure running down the sides of his face as drool pooled on the corner of his mouth.

“So pretty, Omega. My Omega. My beautiful, powerful Omega.” Oh, he loved the sound of that, his core fluttering around your length, making your hips stutter slightly before continuing your pace with a growl. His belly needed more, but he didn’t know how to get it, or what that more was. He just needed it, making him whimper in the middle of his moans.

“Alpha– I don’t– I need more–!” You nodded, your right hand leaving his knee, moving in between the two of you to get hold of his cocklette. His back arched as he cried out when you started rubbing him, your hand squeezing lightly to cause friction as you kept slamming your hips against his. He felt his belly turning and turning, the threat of an orgasm approaching him as his nails dug into his mattress.

You moaned out his name, over and over again, feeling him clench and unclench around you. There was fire between the both of you, the air around you musky, filled with the scent of sin, of beautiful sin. He didn’t want this smell to leave his room now. Not ever. His body moved back and forth as your skin slapped over and over, feeling you deep within him, and he swore you were hitting his belly. 

But you kept abusing that soft place in him, making his entire body tremble in anticipation as he felt himself being lifted into clouds the more you railed into him. His moans started coming out choked, his breaths were stuttering as he tried taking deep ones in. His body was red in color as you looked down on him, your hand moving faster on his cocklette, your mouth watering at the sight before you.

“Let go, my lord. Let go, Omega.” And that he did. His eyes clenched shut as his walls tightened all around you, making you stop your hips, a choke coming out of your lips. He couldn’t find his voice as he shook underneath you, his back arched, his neck all red as he couldn’t help throwing his head back. It was a strong orgasm, and it was so good doing it around your shaft. It felt too good. He finally cried out your name as his belly kept fluttering, the orgasm ongoing.

You were breathing heavily as his back touched the bed again, and you stopped the movement of your hips, trying to catch your breath as he finally unclenched around you. He was panting as he kept his eyes closed, trying to regain some consciousness as his mind kept reeling with you, some rationality seeping through that was making him think of the future.

He saw you choking on your breaths as your hands landed on his chest to hold yourself up, the hand that stroked your cocklette smeared with the small spurt of slick that came out of it. You hissed when you felt the burning starting to happen at the base of your length. You pulled your hips back and moved back in, your name coming out of his mouth as his hands went up to cradle your face. 

He wanted it. He needed it. So he started begging.

“Please– Please–” He pleaded for you and you shivered on top of him as you moved your hips once again, setting a normal pace, because if you went rough you would not be able to control your hivemind, already feeling your canines wanting to elongate inside your mouth. 

“I– I won’t knot you, my lord.” 

His eyes widened, a loud whine escaping his throat, eyebrows meeting in the middle with pure sadness. What did you mean? Why not? Why? 

“What–? What– no! I order you–!” His voice was strained as your hips stilled, just half of your length in, and he knew your knot was slowly inflating because he could feel a different thickness trying to enter him. He whined when he felt it and you were not pushing it in, not wanting to lock inside of him.

“I– If I knot you, I will mate you. I will bite you– I– I don’t want to make my Omega unhappy, and if ruling makes you happy– Biting you means you will live as an Omega.” 

He now understood what you meant. You really wanted him to keep ruling, and for that he would have to give up the idea of ever mating you, knowing that at one point he would be pregnant with your pups. Everyone will know he is an Omega… the entirety of Rome will rise against him. Probably even kill him for the deception to the whole community… yet–

“Protect me. You told me you would protect me… I want to keep ruling with your bite on my neck.” His face was twisted as he grinned up at you, wickedness displayed in his features, ideas brewing in his head that the more he thought of, the more he enjoyed. You saw the shift in Geta’s gaze. He had come up with a plan. 

“Are you sure?” Your gaze turned dark, thoughts of protecting your omega against everything and everyone, blood on your hands as you ripped open skulls, pushed eyes into their sockets… Yes, you enjoyed the mere idea of killing for the emperor. For your Omega.

“Mercy– I beg you– I want it–” He whined now, tears spilling from his eyes as his hips tried to move towards you, wanting you back inside of him. “Have mercy on me, Alpha.” 

And suddenly, he saw that smirk of yours that he saw the first time. It was evil, filled with dark emotions that he himself has inside. You kneeled up again as you raised your hand towards him, your thumb in the middle. He watched expectantly, the heat in his body rising to extraordinary levels as the anticipation was killing him from inside out.

“If tyranny is what my Omega wants… Tyranny is what you are going to get.”

And you turned your thumb upwards.

The crowd was cheering loudly as the gladiators fought on the field below.

Caracalla was laughing, clapping as he looked back at General Acacius, but the man’s eyes were fixated on the person on his left, the one that was behind the other throne. 

You were standing tall as one of your hands rested at the top of the throne while the other was being gripped by your Omega’s hand, over his right shoulder. Your attire had changed into a general’s. You were wearing golden gear, with a red cape hanging from your shoulders. Women never wore these attires, much less, women didn’t go to war, even those who were Alphas. You were the exception at the Emperor’s orders.

When you two mated two months ago, you had sworn you would protect Geta, at any cost. That he will rule, even if the people and the council found out he was an omega. But before that, you two had to pay some people a visit. The council.

The moment Geta walked in with you right behind him, all the men in the room winced in disgust, getting up from their seats as the emperor sat next to his brother who was shocked, his mouth agape as he smelled his sibling. You walked to stand next to him, your eyes filled with the intent of murder, with the thirst of blood, which made the men in the room sit back down, slowly, and against their will.

“I have deceived you all. As you can smell, I am not an Alpha. I never have been, but I plan to keep ruling as an omega… I have been for years now, you all didn’t notice. It doesn’t change anything.” At that, all the men in the room started yelling, Alphas and Betas pointing fingers at the emperor, and you wanted to growl loudly, warn them to not overstep, but Geta held your hand, noticing how angry you had gotten. The men fell silent as they saw the gesture, now looking at you.

“You have been mated.” One of them said, and Geta nodded with confidence. His brother smiled and clapped in excitement, making him look at Caracalla with surprise in his features.

“A mate! A mate! Everyone rejoice!” Geta smiled with teeth, feeling his belly turn with excitement, squeezing your hand in the process. Your chest puffed up with pride, a nod towards Caracalla in appreciation, even if you knew his dementia had gotten the best of him, he never stopped feeling happy for his brother.

“UNACCEPTABLE!” Your head and Geta’s turned to look at the man at the back, an Alpha, getting up from his seat as he walked to the middle of the room, facing the emperors and yourself. “Rome has never been ruled by an Omega and never will! Omegas are at the bottom of the class chart, and you are no exception! Demoted! BEHEADED! You must be demoted–”

Before he could finish his sentence, his head was falling to the floor. Everyone sat in silence as they shivered, some peed themselves in fear, and even Alphas were about to whimper as they looked at the sword that was dripping blood and then at the bearer of it. Your eyes were looking at how the headless body now fell to the floor, your eyes moving upwards to the council in front of you.

“The moment you touch one single hair of his… is the moment I kill your kin in front of your eyes, and I shove their guts down your throats.” The men in the room stayed silent, even the women who served as concubines and servers who stood in a corner of the room. Your eyes scanned everyone as you raised the bloodied sword to them.

“This–” A man tried to respond, but your eyes dug deep into his skull before he could finish.

“Emperor Geta will rule Rome. My army is already on its way here, an army of 3,000 men and women. Barbarians that the only way they know to fight is to rip the intestines raw from your stomachs and strangle you with them.” You lowered your sword as you turned to look at everyone in the room. “The moment you do something to him, is the moment I burn Rome down. No man, woman, child, baby, or dog will be spared. There will be nothing left to rule.”

The room stayed silent for just a few seconds before one of the men raised his hand up in acceptance and surrender. The rest followed through.

The people were not happy, but as they saw your soldiers on the street, witnessing how vicious they were to whoever protested, they calmed down. They have swallowed the fact an Omega is now ruling Rome, their home, fearing for their lives. Nobody had ever tried to take Geta down. Not when you are standing right behind him every second of every day, like his own personal shadow.

“I have one more surprise for you, my love.” You whispered into Geta’s ear, and he smiled as he got up from his chair, seeing all the gladiators now dead on the ring thanks to your men. Guts were all over the dirt as if a painter had done marvelous work. Your men stood in a wide circle as a gate opened, a figure walking in, stumbling. Geta’s eyes widened as he turned to look at you. “I may have kept him alive and lied to you about his departure to savor this moment.”

The Emperor looked back to the field, a small smile appearing on his lips as the crowd remained quiet. Caius stood in the middle of the field, beard now on his features, much more skinnier, bruises on his skin and a sack of potatoes as his only clothes. He looked up at the emperor with tears rolling down his eyes.

“Just for me…”

“He locked you in, intending to murder you. You and I were lucky that the Alpha in that room was me, my sun.” Geta turned around to face you, leaning down to place an appreciative kiss on your lips. Displays of affection were not something common and were frowned upon for indecency, but he couldn’t help himself, and he was the emperor. He could do whatever he pleased. You moaned into the kiss, and he pulled away with a smile, turning around once more, looking down at the doctor who had betrayed him months back.

“Mercy… I ask for mercy, please!” He begged. Mercy? Geta's top lip twitched as he snarled at the man, his right hand coming to rest on his belly. His left hand raised up, thumb right in the middle as you stood behind him. There was no shakiness in his hand. This is Rome. Your Omega’s rome. And you will defend it and him until the day you perish.

And Geta’s finger turned downwards.

the end

a/n: look, i did say the demons won, and this is not everyone's cup of tea, i do know this, but this man is not an alpha. also, a reblog helps

i will tag a few people that interacted with the geta posts: @keeryhours @doomsdaybby @userchai @xgrxcefulx

dividers by @saradika-graphics, banner by me.

[orcusnoir]

I think the Chain needs to be more...idk "weird". So here's some ideas on what I mean. Not all of them are are in depth as I would like sadly.

Time: Clocks stop working right around him. Either they stop all together or they start skipping seconds at random intervals, sometimes the clocks will start going backwards.

Yet no matter how messed up the clock gets, by the time Time leaves the area the clock is telling time normally again.

If Time's shadow splits it will always appear as if a silhouette of a child is to his right and a faint emaciated figure is to his left. His own shadow tells the tale of his terrible fate.

Speaking of shadows.

Twilight: His shadow, no matter what, is always darker than normal. Noticeably darker.

Predators out in the wild, such as wolves, lions, and what not, are either afraid of the Rancher and flee, or just watch him from a safe distance. As long as Twi is with the group, they don't have to worry about any random animal attack.

Four: As the wielder of the Four Sword, Four's shadow is always split in four ways. Since the Smithy helped the Minish, he will randomly find extra Rupees in his pockets and bag with no memory of how he got them.

Wind: The sailor knows exactly where he's going when out at sea. Even without a map. He just knows. The air around him carries an extremely faint scent of saltwater.

Legend: The Vet's enchantments are alien to his own Hyrule. They didn't come from Lorule either.

Strangely, Sky seems to recognize the magic that envelops the Vet's gear.

Hyrule: The treads on the Traveler's boots seem to change to whatever he needs them to be, never wearing down. His own steps are either loud enough to draw attention to him or so quiet to the point of his steps being silent, but the way he walks doesn't change. It just happens.

If the group encounters a fairy, it will always approach Hyrule first before swirling around Time.

Wild: Stal monsters will always go after Wild first. Sensing the fact that he should be dead, and feeling a sort of jealousy at his resurrection.

Non-Guardian/Zonai automatons have an extremely hard time locking onto the Champion. Their IFF (Identify Friend Foe) system constantly misidentifies him as an ally. Possible side ability of the Slate, but it's happened before without it on his person.

Warriors: The Captain knows. He knows things that no one expects him to know. He can tell when people hide secrets from him, and can tell when people have secrets to hide. Even if he's never met the person.

Sky: Due to being the first (technically second) Link, he is always identified as Link in any Hyrule they visit. This effect can even trip up other Zelda's.

The Goddess statues seem to glow with a faint golden hue whenever Sky is nearby.

(Here's even more Chain "weirdness")

https://www.tumblr.com/orcusnoir/728982134864461824/more-chain-weirdness-because-honestly-these?source=share

[anantaru]

— their favorite form of pda (public display of affection)

including dan heng, blade, jing yuan, luocha, sampo, gepard, welt x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, very sweet n cute

when it comes to dan heng, he, for one part, enjoys less than more— you can catch him quietly patting your back whenever you‘re doing something, or on any occasion you'd meet up with your boyfriend, he'd make himself visible by kissing your cheek. it's rarely your lips when people were close by, yet if it was someone he considered a friend as well, dan heng did not mind smooching your lips for a short while. by all odds, he was observant of the current setting he found himself in and he waits long enough to relocate the vibes and go with them. it's also worth to note that dan heng would never attempt to do something to make you uncomfortable, he was a patient man, marking time and pausing to identify any discomfort.

notably enough, blade thinks it‘s cute, no scrap that, doubtlessly ambrosial when he notices how you're waiting for it to happen— howbeit, you‘re sneakily inching a square near his body so he can as a matter of course swathe his broad arm around your shoulders and leave it there to be tumbling around you. all the same example was blade expecting you to do the same and encircle him back. briefly, you will remain in a flowing setting and be fond of the exchanged heaves of air when you‘re slowing yourself into his chest— because fundamentally speaking, there has been nothing that had a more tranquil stifling on you then listening to blade's heart-beats.

as one clearly might’ve made an estimate thus far, jing yuan needs you to be as sheltered as possible against his immersing cradle. your boyfriend evidently does not want to unintentionally overstep any boundaries with you and makes it his own personal responsibility to be an eager listener while also hugely monitoring when he senses it‘s okay to approach you a tad closer. as a general rule, the subdued signaling will wind up with jing yuan listlessly planting his palm on your lower back whenever you walk into, well, really anywhere; a fine scented flower shop was only one of such. greater yet— the man was a gentleman, opening the door for you and silently swaying his large hand up and down your back to voicelessly tell you that, yes indeed, he was present and there's nothing for you to worry about.

the fetching and enticing luocha who, in his immediate brilliance, had a charming practice of turning relatively flustered, cheeks swelled up whenever he thought about it— all in all, what in the eyes of his significant other was too much or too little, all your boyfriend wanted to proudly achieve was to hit that spotless middle and make you doubtlessly happy in the process. he coughs, managing to get his hand towards your lower arm before exhaling softly, it's done now, he realizes, lips twitching in the process when you're amusedly watching him fold, "this is awkward, don't you think?" you giggle, pointing towards the comical picture of luocha holding onto you— significantly resembling a child holding onto their parent in a grocery store. "lets try this instead." above you, you see a man with a blush on his handsome features, leaning into whatever you say as you effortlessly slip your fingers and tangle them into his own.

how would you, individualistically, describe your boyfriend sampo koski? by fair means, it was impossible, unthinkably out of the question. you often find yourself quite surprised and baffled on how fickle and unpredictable he appeared to be. wether it had been sampo suddenly grabbing a stern hold of your hand to twirl you around in front of everyone or him swiftly cutting you off mid speech to place a kiss on your parted lips. 'i felt like it', he says proudly, with that damned smirk caked around the sharp edges of his mouth, but 'i needs more' sampo will add on, only then he'll shut up in a satisfied bliss and let you carry on with the topic you had been rambling about to him.

you sometimes wonder if the general and your personal protector gepard could turn even cuter— the hint of a full shaded blush on his cheeks as he averts his gaze and nervously coughs into his hand. but do not get fooled, he cannot possibly help himself, it's not like he will ever get used to you agreeing to the silent, little flushed request of gepard longing to hold your hand. be it known throughout entire spaces, he certainly does not stop here, what held gepard's mind locked behind heart shaped clouds, was when you'd visit him at work sometimes— undeniably when he wasn't busy for once; the unwavering courage, as he referred to it, for you to smirkingly place a subtle kiss on his burning lips after encountering him was indescribable for the man, and this craving he went through now had become like an infinite road— forever, he hopes, you'd show him more of that flickering kindness, the one that had lifted any burdens off his soul.

upwardly subtle and efficiently sophisticated— the very two turns of phrases that would adequately describe welt‘s usual approach on you. if he had to speak out more clear to a subject such as pda, which he does more than you'd sometimes like to admit, he was personally not all too bothered nor interested on it. distinctly, it's not like he found any particular distaste in it, he simply has not spent any time going over it alone more sufficiently. in a clearer way did he not view it as something holding a significant importance in your relationship. but, from time to time, he too catches himself fall into it, especially when you‘re inviting him with open arms surrounded by precious friends and colleagues, awaiting a passion infused hug welt always did justice to.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[kitasgloves]

Closer

tracklist

— ♬ "I drink the honey inside your hive. You are the reason I stay alive"

— ♬ Sex Addict! Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader, NSFW, female reader, graphic depictions of unsafe sex & sexual obsession, brief mentions of masturbation, stalking & somnophilia, psychological manipulation, lobotomy (yes, fr), manga spoilers for Fyodor's ability, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 3.7k words, no beta

— ♬ NOTE: I DO NOT CONDONE, ROMANTISIZE, OR SEXUALIZE WHAT IS DEPICTED IN THIS STORY. EVERYTHING IS A WORK OF FICTION. READER'S DESCRETION IS ADVISED.

Faith can make an individual resilient. Faith provides hope to the hopeless. And faith can give purpose to those who seek. Faith in a powerful being's existence is common among humanity. Humans have the liberty to believe in any kind of higher being they create with their minds. Humans owe their existence to gods, goddesses, or unfathomable beings. They offer their devotion and faith towards them and serve them respectfully.

Fyodor Dostoevsky thinks that every country has their own god and that god represents the people's beliefs. God shows their distinction between good and evil, but sometimes the line of distinction gets blurred. Fyodor believed he had faith. He's convinced that he's abundant of it. He can identify the difference between good and evil at a young age. And he chose goodness to pursue and to engrave into his motives. However, as he grew older, he learned that goodness isn't often achievable.

Some individuals perform evil acts for the sake of goodness, and some people overlook their horrid actions and focus on their righteous intentions. In a world where cruelty thrives among humans, being benevolent becomes a challenge. Fyodor viewed people as sinful and foolish after giving in to their depraved acts. He was disgusted, and he equally pitied those who suffer for the wrongdoings of others. A sense of justice blooms in Fyodor's chest. He longs to be the one who would save his country, he desires to be the Saviour of the world.

He could be this era's Jesus Christ. However, he doesn't think that dying for the sins of others is ideal. Fyodor believes that he must eradicate those who are unworthy to be a part of humanity and exhume the remaining goodness of humanity. For years, Fyodor has dedicated his life to rid the earth of filthy sinners. To think that he has died and yet resurrected various times solidifies his belief to be this world's only Saviour.

Fyodor has witnessed so much bloodshed, degeneracy, and incomprehensible evil that he becomes deprived of what is good. He has been away from the hold of goodness and he's slowly becoming a stranger to it. All he cared about and clung to was his own beliefs, he's convinced that it would be enough to carry on with his duty.

To have encountered various faces in his prolonged lifetime, your face becomes the most prevalent of all. Fyodor initially thought that it was your beauty, he is drawn to beauty when exposed to it. Your glistening eyes full of light, your tender skin, the harmonious tone of your voice, and the smell of your natural scent invited him to get closer.

You were a decent civilian. An individual with various thoughts, emotions, and feelings. And a woman with an inviting appearance. Fyodor laid his eyes on you for the first time at a humble café he had recently discovered. He remembered to be the beginning of Spring. He can recall that day in extreme detail. He silently sipped his tea when you walked into the café with that gorgeous sundress and a pocketbook in hand. His throat felt momentarily dry when he observed you. He took note of the drink and pastry you ordered. He finds himself smiling when you choose a table that is near his. And he watched you as you read your pocketbook in comfortable silence.

The attraction to you at first glance almost compelled him to approach you, yet Fyodor held himself back. He decides to quietly observe you and get a sense of what kind of person you are. He effortlessly gathered all the information he required. All it took was to follow you home and a quick snoop inside while you slept. He absorbed every detail about you, from your favorite music to your deepest insecurities. Fyodor knew it all without even approaching you, he reserved that official encounter with you for the precise timing.

Watching you from afar seems so lovely. He adored the tenderness that your existence exhibited. Fyodor noticed everything about you despite the distance. The shade of your lipstick, the slightly chipped nail polish on your nails, the shining necklace around your stunning neck, and even the skin that your dress is slightly exposed. Fyodor can feel his flesh craving for yours, he is taken aback by the passionate yearning at the beginning, but he thinks that it must be natural.

An infatuation is natural, Fyodor has experienced it several times before. However, with you, it seems unusual. His infatuation with you brought this burning sensation buried within his skin. His eyes tended to betray him as he glanced lower at your breasts. He would swallow at the sight of your bare legs exposed during a hot day. And before he realizes it, he has formed some sort of...erotic craving for you.

Fyodor was disgusted by the call of the flesh. The sin of lust came across as the filthiest to him. And yet, he finds himself victim to it. As repulsed as he was, Fyodor made attempts to rid of this sexual temptation by pleasuring himself. However, no matter how many times he has stroked his length or reached the most earth-shattering orgasms, the desire never goes away. What was worse was that Fyodor kept fantasizing about you the more he masturbated.

The mind conjures the filthiest things when given the chance. Fyodor would stroke his cock to the fantasy of your hands replacing his, your soft hands pumping his length while gazing innocently up at him. You would be settled between his legs with your hand wrapped around his shaft. Fyodor throws his head back as he imagined your lips kissing the tip of his dick before slowly swallowing his length. His hand pumped faster as he imagined the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as you gazed up at him through teary eyes. Fyodor chants your name at his approaching orgasm. He reaches his sweet release with the fantasy of you swallowing all of his seed.

When he would open his eyes and realize the mess he has made, Fyodor would turn so upset with himself. He was losing track of his mission, his purpose. It's people who fall for the call of the flesh who fail the most. You have infested his mind with these lustful fantasies and crawled your way into his heart. Fyodor tries to ignore the pleading of his desires to consume him, but the longer he suppresses his urges, the more it grows worse.

You accidentally bumped into a tall and slender man with raven hair inside your favorite bookstore. The books in your arms almost fly out of your hold if the man didn't steady you with his cold hands on your exposed shoulders. You looked up and shuddered. The man was gazing intently at you before giving you a polite smile.

"I apologize, I was not properly looking at my path"

"Oh, it's fine!"

"Hm, if I may, you have a remarkable taste in literature"

The man spoke with a prominent Slavic accent as he pointed at the books you huddled against your chest. You blinked and smiled.

"Thank you! They're by my favorite authors"

"It is rare to encounter someone with refine taste, may I know your name?"

"I'm [Surname] [Name]"

"You may call me Fyodor"

Your face bloomed with color when Fyodor delicately reached for your hand and brought them to his lips, giving it a tender kiss. Fyodor strikes you as a man with elegance. His movements seemed calculated. And his gaze offered a mystery that enticed your curiosity. Fyodor invited you to a café to discuss and share common interests in books. You were impressed with how many authors he knows. Judging from his choice of words, Fyodor seemed intelligent. His face looked incredibly majestic too. It was difficult not to be attracted to a man like him.

Fyodor reveled at the way you easily fell for his charms. The way you would gaze up at him through your thick lashes and clench your thighs whenever he talked almost made him laugh. He can feel his pants tighten as you slowly lean closer to him, his eyes capturing the delectable sight of your cleavage. Fyodor wanted to undress you so bad and all he is waiting for is the perfect moment.

"Fyodor, do you enjoy tea?"

"I do, my dear"

"Well, I have an array of it at home from different countries, would you like to try them with me?"

"That would be delightful"

The moment you invited Fyodor to your home, your fate changed forever. You could barely put the kettle on the stove when the man approached you from behind and wrapped his arms around your figure. Before a question could leave your lips, he has already leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was fueled with urgency. Fyodor's hands felt the fabric of your dress as he pressed you against the kitchen counter. Fyodor lapped on your lips and nibbled on your neck with hunger. You were left breathless with the way his hands roamed shamelessly all over your body. He grabbed your ass and squeezed your breasts. When he pulls away to give a proper look at your debauched face, he smirks darkly.

"Shall we continue in your bedroom?"

Fyodor doesn't dare waste his time as he poured all of his efforts into fucking you thoroughly. He placed you in several positions as he greedily stole orgasm after orgasm from you. He devoured you like you were his first and final meal. He pressed your head down against the pillows as he fucked you from behind. His cock would stretch you viciously during missionary. When he grew tired, he would grab your hair and force your mouth on his cock while his hand trailed down to play with your clit. Fyodor has fucked that innocent look out of your face.

You let him violate you. You let him desecrate you. You let him penetrate you. You let him complicate you. Fyodor wasn't finished until you're utterly destroyed. And he left you like that. The moment your eyes fluttered shut as he got done cumming in your cunt, he collected his clothes and abandoned you without offering an ounce of aftercare. Fyodor felt pleased and convinced that his lustful fantasies of you would finally disappear now that he had satisfied the call of his flesh. However, the moment he was finally alone, he felt a heavy weight on his spirit.

Fyodor thinks about what he has done and realizes he's not satisfied. His thoughts lingered back to when his cock was nestled inside of you as he drew out every breathless moan of his name from your lips. To his horror, he learns that his desire will never disappear if you continue to exist and tantalize him. Fyodor almost felt sick at the revelation. He felt like he had broken apart his insides and he had no soul to tell. This momentary self-loathe swallows him as he buries his face against his palms. Fyodor, in a state of emotional distress, pulled on his hair and aggressively bit on his nails until it bled. He couldn't bear to succumb to his carnal urges when he must carry on his righteous deeds. 

He must find a solution. And yet the only thing that works for him is for something to help him get away from himself. Yes, that's it. He wasn't being himself and he would never be himself if he was in this body. Fyodor finds himself wandering among the dangerous and dark streets to find someone who will be a sacrifice. One fateful thug tries his luck to rob him only to be met with Fyodor smiling. With one pull of the trigger, Fyodor's body drops to the pavement. Suddenly, the thug screams in agony as he feels the pain of his skin tearing apart. The screams echoed in the street before it abruptly stopped.

Fyodor returns to his hideout with a refreshed feeling inside of his new body. He tries to fall back into his routine when he has another fateful encounter with you at the café. He clenches his fists and steers his eyes away. However, he doesn't miss the way your face dropped. You ignored him and sat at a table further away from him and read your book. Fyodor was unable to resist as he let his eyes slowly wander back to your figure.

Fuck, you looked good. Your dress was cut shorter, and your soft legs were exposed. Fyodor licks his lips at the sight. You were all dolled up in your usual look as you focused on your book and sipped on your drink. Dismissing the heed of his desires seems futile as Fyodor feels his pants go tight again.

He wants to fuck you like an animal. He wants to feel you from the inside. He wants to fuck you like an animal. Fyodor could no longer deny himself. He wants to shove his cock into your pussy and ram into you until you bled. He wants to feel your warm and wet walls welcome him as if he was made to belong inside of you. He could no longer refuse the fact of how flawed he is. His whole existence is flawed. And yet he's convinced that you get him closer to God.

With every sinful tug on his soul by your body, Fyodor finds himself clinging to his faith. The faith that he will be forgiven and cleansed. God forgives all, doesn't he? If one does wish to repent and seek forgiveness from the almighty, then he shall find it. Fyodor quickly clasped his hands together and spoke a prayer in his mother tongue.

You peered up from your book and found Fyodor approaching your table and sitting across from you with a smile. Everything ends up with you and him in your bedroom as previously. You let him fuck you senselessly until you felt like your insides could tear apart. Fyodor is ravished at the moment of burying his seed deep inside you every time. He's constantly folding and molding you into various positions that could bring you to heaven and back. He'll have you with your back arched as he greedily fucked you. He'll make you lie upside-down at the foot of the bed as he fed you his cock. And he'll leave your thighs shuddering so much from fingerfucking you.

This all quickly fell into a routine. Fyodor would approach you for sex and then leave wordlessly after. He'll kneel and pray for forgiveness before doing it all again. For some reason, he was unable to stop himself. He thought of doing the same things to somebody else, but it would only spark contempt. It was only you he saw was worthy of sharing his filth. No matter how many times he has changed from body to body, he will always long for your body the same.

Fyodor had a feeling that you understood his urges. If you didn't, then why do you keep inviting him each time to ruin you? It fills him with pride and pleasure to see you submissive and trained to be his personal fucktoy. He had manipulated you effectively to feed his desires. He made sure to have you prioritize his pleasure over yours. To have you so obedient whenever he'd force you on your knees to take his cock or to not cum until he has brings a wicked smile to his features.

All this longing for your body was probably because of his prolonged loneliness. His isolation from society felt necessary for his mission to save humanity, he needed to focus. Perhaps he has been stressed for so long that's why he would treat you so roughly in bed, but you always took him like a good little slut. Fyodor thinks you're slowly pulling him away from God and stripping him of his faith. He keeps forgetting to repent every time he's done fucking you. But it was no worry, he's sure God could understand him, right?

God might have sent you to him as a blessing in disguise! He saw his child suffering and offered him relief. Yes, that's it. Everything made sense now. You're meant for him, and only for him. Just as Eve was made for Adam. You're here to take what he's giving you. Yes, of course, everything is so clear now.

You can have his isolation, you have the hate that it brings. Fyodor made sure to separate you from others who could potentially take you away from him. He must have your focus solely on him. He made you cut ties with friends and family and even made you quit your job to stay at his secret place. There you would always wait for him to return and bring him pleasure.

You can have his absence of faith. Fyodor is sure he's straying away from his godly beliefs. How could he remember to say a prayer when his mind is occupied with lewd memories and fantasies of you? Every time your cunt welcomed his cock, his mind with go blank except for the sensations it brought. You have rendered him faithless and filled his head with filth instead.

You can have his everything. Fyodor has grown unhealthily obsessed with you. That initial infatuation had led him to this path of debauchery. Every moment he's seeking you and the pleasure only you can give him. You take him so fucking well that you deserve everything he has to offer. His time, his devotion, his affection, and all you had to do was be a good girl as he'll make sure you're treated well.

Fyodor has lost track of his purpose. All his plans were getting delayed. He was unable to resist a good fuck when you were displayed on his bed. However, you're not completely free from your independent thoughts as you would ask him questions if you can go outside or see your family. He'd always reassure you that it would be soon knowing that soon would never arrive. Sometimes, it would seem as though you have managed to fuck out every logical bone in his body as he starts to function on his sexual desires alone. What an accomplishment you have achieved of fucking the Fyodor Dostoevsky dumb.

You tear down his reason. It's your sex that he can smell. You make him perfect. You have helped him become somebody else. Fyodor doesn't need a change of body when he's with you. He knows you'd welcome him always between your legs. You'd scream his name until your voice would grow hoarse. You'd let him hold you after he has exhausted you to the point of unconsciousness. Even when you slept, it wasn't enough. He thought how wonderful you were to still take him in your sleep.

He wants to fuck you like an animal. He wants to feel you from the inside. He wants to fuck you like an animal. His whole existence is flawed but you get him closer to God. With every thrust of his hips and every time his cock kisses your cervix, you bring him so much closer to God with how heavenly you felt.

Fyodor's head grew hazy as though he was living in a dream. He knows everything he's experiencing with you is real. He lived blissfully for a month until you approached him one evening. You had glassy eyes when you demanded to leave. You're beginning to get suspicious, it took you long enough though. Fyodor predicted this, but he can't afford to let you walk out the door.

"Please, Fyodor! Let me go! I must see my family—"

You bite your lip shut when Fyodor laughed mockingly at you. He walked over to you and caressed your cheek with a malicious smile.

"So, you want to end this relationship with me?"

"This...what we have isn't a relationship"

"Oh, how awfully wrong you are, [Name]"

"You're only using me! For...for sex!"

"That doesn't mean I don't love you, mоя дорогая"

You angrily peeled Fyodor's hand away from your cheek, this makes him frown immediately. You couldn't take it anymore as you marched towards the exit. How stupid you felt for falling for this wicked man's schemes. He didn't love you, he's only obsessed with your body! You can't tolerate being treated as a sex object for his own sexual gratification. However, before your hand could grab the handle of the door, you felt a pang of pain from behind your skull before your vision went black.

Fyodor has gently finished wrapping fresh bandages around your head before gently placing a kiss on your forehead. As he gazed at you, he smiled at the fact that you had ceased having those thoughts of escape. You still moaned his name the same when he fucked you, if anything, it appears as though you have welcomed him even more than before. Fyodor couldn't help but grin. All he needed to do was create minor adjustments to your brain and you finally gave in to your true nature: to submit to him.

Perhaps being this world's Savior wasn't his time yet, he must wait for a few more years or even centuries to continue this journey. But for now, Fyodor is content with you. For as long as you remain on this earth, he shall never let you go. Here in his hold, you must stay. He'll make sure you're taken care of while you take care of his carnal needs. Fyodor hums as he strokes your bandaged head lovingly, he rests his cheek against your temple.

"Through every forest, above the trees. Within my stomach, scraped off my knees"

He recites. You listen to him vacantly. He reaches to gently grab your chin before tilting your face upwards to him. Fyodor hums before leaning down to kiss you briefly on the lips.

"I drink the honey inside your hive. You are the reason I stay alive"

He finishes, and a crooked smile appears on your face. Fyodor grins to himself before his slender hand starts to snake up your skirt.

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙔 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙔 𝙈𝙔 𝙉𝙊𝙊𝙉𝙄𝙀 𝙄𝙎 𝙋𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙊𝙐𝙏 𝙈𝙔 𝙎𝙆𝙄𝙍𝙏

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. As a popular, pretty, head cheerleader in highschool with thee perfect dreamy boyfriend, you could not ask for more, your life is perfect. after an exhilarating football match, you and your boyfriend find a way to 'cool down' before heading out for dinner with the winning team.

wc. around 2,780

tags. satoru gojo x reader. populargojo! x reader. satoru gojox reader smut. all characters are 18 years old. alternative au. non curse au. highschool au. fucking in a car. unprotected sex. dirty talk.hitting it raw. dom yn (temp). riding. squirting.18+ mdni!

.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒..⭒☆━━━

You live for your school's games. The field always seems to be pulsating with an electric energy in, as people roar from the bleachers in hopes of their team winning. You'd been on the cheer team for as long as you can remember. You initially joined it when your friend Jodie persuaded you, saying you had a really great sense of rhythm and natural ability to dance, compared to others your age. You didn't think much of it at the time, you didn't even think you'd make it past the tryouts. But once, they got you in that bright uniform, you knew you'd love it. It made you feel like the girl you wanted to be whenever you held pom poms in your hand, whenever you got ready to cheer for a game. It’s the only time you don't feel timid standing in front of people. Now as a senior, you've managed to embody the girls you look up to when you were a freshman as you become team captain.

Your best friend Geto Suguru is playing tonight, out on the endless field of green. Cheering for your friends never failed to make you smile, filling you with a buzz as you stood in formation with your team, roaring out a chant with them. Amidst the sea of spirited faces adorned in school colours, there was only one face that stood out to you, smiling at you from above.

The school’s heartthrob: Satoru Gojo. Your boyfriend.

The two of you got together in Junior year, he noticed you when Geto dragged him to one of his games. That night you were practicing leading the team for a dance. Ever since then, he was hooked. The way you moved, the way your hair fell, the way your lips curved into a pretty smile. He wanted you. He needed you. He had to have you. Something about your air and manner had his love-struck for you. He’d try his hardest to strike up a conversation with you after classes, at lunch after school. Though you played hard to get, you couldn’t deny how your heart would beat a little faster when he was nearby. The tension between the two of you was undoubted and heated, the both of you communicated through flirting. Even before the two of you started dating people started to identify you as a couple. The couple.

The crowd is buzzing with animated chatter, a cacophony of voices rising and falling like waves. Laughter, cheers, and the occasional jeer painted the backdrop for the unfolding drama. Looking up into the stands again you make eye contact with Satoru again. A familiar smirk on his lips as he watched you like a predator watching and waiting for their prey. It wasn’t strange for you and Gojo to fuck after games, he just found your uniform irresistible. The short skirts, tight tops, how it fit your form perfectly, how could he not be turned on?

“We got it all together, We're fighting for a win TMCC on top again!” You all chant, rearranging and organising yourselves fluidly into new formations as you all chant and cheer. You watch as he leans back in his seat, the grin on his face getting wider. You notice him readjust in his seat as he manspreads.

The air is hot, the tension is almost tangible, and you can feel the heat grow from within you, as you lock eyes with his cerulean blue ones.

The scent of freshly popped popcorn wafts through the air, blending with the familiar aroma of sweat and anticipation.

The announcer's voice resonates through the field, commentating on the progress of the game. With each dribble, pass, and score, the field becomes a theatre of emotions. The crowd's reactions painted full gasps of disbelief, exuberant cheers, and groans of disappointment. Every point scored was met with an explosion of noise,

As the clock ticks down, the atmosphere intensifies and your cheers get louder. You and your team doing your best to motivate the players to victory.

The stadium roared with anticipation as the two teams clashed in an intense soccer battle. Tension hung in the air with each kick, and the crowd's collective breath held as the clock ticked down. The teams were now tied and time was running out. All eyes watched the players in suspense, all awaiting for the final goal.

Geto cut through the players, a determined look in his eyes. Strands of his tied-up hair fall loose and out of place and he wizzes down the field. He looked at his teammate, signalling him that he had it all under control. A subtle nod from his teammate and the ball was now at his feet. Everyone watching and the other team closing in on him. With his collected thoughts, Geto turns and dribbles through the opponents, careful to not lose the ball in the final minutes.

The goalkeeper seemed determined to block the ball but once Geto kicked the ball, it flew up into the air and hurtling towards the net at a whopping speed.

And GOAL!

They’d won! Geto pulled his team through. All his teammates jumped on him pulling him into a triumphant hug. The entire stadium thundered in celebration creating a symphony of joy that reverberated through the air.

You screamed and jumped for Geto, feeling immensely proud of your friend.

Soon, everyone dispersed from the stadium and you stayed to congratulate your cheer squad on their efforts and energy. A hand snakes around your waist, and as you look up you see a familiar mop of white hair next to you.

“Toru, I thought I told you to wait for me outside.” You scold him “I’m trying to talk to my team.”

“It’s okay girl, y’all are cute we’ll forget about this.” Jodie pipes in leading the group of girls who kept whining about how jealous they were of your relationship, and how they wanted a boyfriend like Satoru.

“See you guys Thursday, Well done!” You shot after them, watching the group of girls dissipate. Seconds after, the tall frame of Suguru Geto walks up to the two of you. Satoru releases his grip on you and walks up to his friend slapping him on the back and congratulating him on his win.

“Well done Geto.” You say once the two boys walk back up to you.

Geto put his hand in your hair ruffling your pigtails a little bit. “Thanks. Hey where do you guys wanna eat after this, it’ll be on me.” Geto asks.

“Let it be on me, you won.” Gojo insists which Geto doesn’t comply against. “We should go to Five Guys.” He suggests and you all nod in agreement. “See you over there bro.”

“See ya dude.” Geto says, leaving the two of you alone again.

Gojo's lips immediately found yours, kissing you with so much vigour as if he was trying to suck the air out of you. “Wasn’t someone being naughty today.” He whispers in your ear, causing you to bite your lip in excitement as you know where this is going.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say with faux innocence. He smirks as his fingers find their way into your pigtails, playing with the ribbon and twirling them together.

The two of you start walking towards his car, his arm around your waist. His fingers toy with the hem of your skirt and flick the band of your panties against your skin.

“Geez Satoru, can’t even wait now can we.” You say with a smirk leaning in front of the car door now.

“Says you.  I saw you out there, shaking and twirling for me. Y’were doin' it s'much I could tell you your panty colour." He responds, opening the car door for you.

“Okay then, what colour are my panties?” You ask teasingly, playing with your lip between your teeth.

“I may need to get a better look.” He whispers to you, before closing your car door and walking over to his. The second his car door closes he immediately starts kissing you sensually, as if if he didn’t kiss you any other way you would disappear from him completely. His lips were fast and his tongue was skilled in making casual unexpected appearances, but his touch was gentle, cupping your face in his hands as if you were the most delicate thing in the world.

You sigh, unable to wait any longer. Swiftly, you climb onto Satoru’s lap. He breaks the kiss and chuckles a little. “Eager now aren’t we.”

Instead of responding you start rocking your hips back and forth. Snapping them forward and rolling them back. With every movement, you could feel him grow from underneath you. “Who’s eager now.” you whisper a smirk on your lips.

“What a bad girl. I didn’t know my girl was like this.” he says, his large hands now groping your ass. With one swift movement, his hand lifts up your skirt to reveal underwear in all its glory, a pretty blue colour. “Oh, they really were blue. Luckily I got this opportunity to see you wearing my favourite colour panties.” His longer finger looks under the hemline of your underwear this time, slyly sliding down, inching towards your clit.

“Not so fast big boy. ” you whisper teasingly, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw, relishing the moment. “ You need to be patient.” by now the white-haired maile is finding it extremely difficult to sit still and let you do all the work, he’s itching for his hands to roam your body, your curves your tits, all of you. Gojo is a very handsy guy when it comes to both of you, he’s always touching you in some manner, it’s like the guy doesn’t know anything about personal space. So for you to ask him to remain hands off is torture, resulting in his grunting and groaning restlessly, yet still, he obeys your wishes to let you take charge. This side of you is not something the guy is used to seeing and it’s seriously turning him on. You feel his bulge press against your clothed wetness, making you giggle.

“Already excited prince? Y’thinking bout how this pussy is gonna suck you in, hmm Satoru.” you hum yet again, and Gojo doesn't respond, he shifts in his seat yet again. “Looks like the prince is lost for words, I wonder if I should just-” Your fingers travel down to his trousers, speedily pulling the zip of them down. Watching the tent, spring upright. Your hand slowly starts palming his hard-on, a specific spot dampening with pre-cum. Exactly the sight you’ve been waiting to see all night. “You wanna feel me big boy?” you ask, your voice sounding like honey in his ear like a siren’s voice hypnotizing and tempting him. It is like his body is the only one speaking for him, the way he nods and swallows, hard. You watch intently as his Adam apple bobs on his throat, turning you on even more. Without wasting any more time, you grab his hand, slithering it down your panties. “Feel how wet you made me?” You whimper, slowly riding yourself on his fingers, feeling absolutely ecstatic. Your other free hand, slowly palming him still.

Although the usually rebellious guy is for once doing as you say, it does;t feel right. You pull his hand out of your underwear, which he doesn't put up a fight for. A pout forms on your lips as you look up at him through your lashes. “Why aren’t you responding to me?” you whine, self-doubting your skills at being dominating in this setting.

Gojo doesn’t speak up yet, his words lost in his throat as his eye slock unto yours. “ Cuz if I start talking and taking charge, we won’t be leaving this car anytime soon.” This is the first time you've seen such a sight on the white-haired male, a deep blush generously dusting both his cheeks. The both of you maintain eye contact, feeling the tension heighten and instantaneously the both of you run purely on feeling. Your hand sliding down his boxers to pull out his dick. His tip is a bright red with pre-cum rolling down to the base. You gather spit in your mouth and watch as it slowly drops down onto his member. He twitches once your spit touches it. Sensitive. A couple pumps with your hand and the man is already whimpering quietly.

He is totally not getting away with this. You smirk.

“You want me to put it in big boy?” you ask him. His usual persona is back when he instructs you to “ Put it in princess.” his eyes low and closed with intense lust. You slowly lower yourself down, taking in all his inches, till it can’t be seen anymore. It’s all in and you feel stuffed as always, it’s like his dick was made for you.

“Fuck.” you whisper breathlessly. Satoru’s hand snakes its way to your hips, placing a firm grip on them.

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t help it. You just look so good.” With ease the male lifts you up slightly and plops you back down again, your weight sinking down on him. With every time your body is lifted and every time his dick grazes that sensitive spot in your warm cunt, your moans get louder and louder. The sounds of skin slapping are now loud in the car and the windows are starting to fog up. You place your hands on his shoulders once he pauses to get a good grip on your ass, using it to help lift you easier and to thrust into you faster. You don’t seem to be complaining about the fact he’s adapted his usual dominating role again, as each repetitive thrust makes your mind cloud. With your thighs dripping in your arousal and with your cunt squeezing him tightly, Gojo starts to grunt as you moan into his neck, begging and pleading for him to not stop and to “keep going.”

“Fuck Toru, hmmm. Feel’s s’ good.” you whine, laying your head in the crook of his neck, the smell of sex filling your nose, a thin layer of sweat covering his chest. “Don’t stop Toru.” you cry out.

“Do you hear how wet you are f’me? Hmm? We’re you thinking about me during the game. Thinking about me touching you, about me fucking you?” he asks teasingly, the smirk evident in his voice. All you do is moan in response, nodding your head desperately. “Tell me what you were imagining princess.”

“Was thinking about you fucking me like how you are. Ohh fuck.” your mind is turning hazy, the only goal in your mind is finishing. “ Was thinking about how you’d call me a good girl for doing so well. Was thinkin’ bout cumming all over your dick babe.” you answer.

“Oh? I knew my girl had a dirty mind, didn’t know you were so nasty though ” he comments., intently watching your striped skirt hang from your waist, its movements in sync with his thrusts.

“Wanna come Satoru, pleaseee.” you whine unsure of how much longer you can hold out for.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll let you come.” he groans in your ear, the sound of his grunts and groans nearly sending you over the edge. A repetitive string of “ Please, Please, Please.” And “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” leave your lips in alternating patterns. The guy is thrusting into you like a machine, like there's no tomorrow like this time will be your last. “Shit.” he huffs, feeling his own end approach. Your grip on his shoulders tighten, your jaw goes slack and your body goes limp. You feel the familiar knot in your stomach tighten and soon you’re cumming, hard… and everywhere. A wetness gushes out of you but this time, landing everywhere.

“Good girl. you squirted for me.” he congratulates, a few thrusts away from his own pleasure, and now with every thrust your high is prolonged, leaving you overstimulated. You’re screaming in pleasure and soon the white-haired male is moaning loudly too, his cum shooting up into your warm cunt, making you whine in pleasure. Tears fall from your eyes, from overstimulation. The both of you remain completely still and silent, slowly riding out your highs, both of you panting for air.

The both of your cum drips out of your stuffed hole, making a mess.

“Geto’s gonna get suspicious that we’ve been gone for so long.” you say, craning your head to look up at him.

“Who cares what that fool thinks? Round 2.”

.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒.⭒☆━━━✰━━━☆⭒..⭒☆━━━

[residentdeviant]

𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀

── .✦ summary

⟢ you’re a detective for the raccoon city police department and have recently been assigned a new partner and dozens of cases involving androids, including one of a missing woman and a ruined android. now it’s up to you two to solve them all. detroit: become human au.

── .✦ story notes !

⟢ written with re2r/re4r leon in mind ! also, i did my best to have this be a gender neutral reader, but if there’s anything that suggests otherwise, please let me know.

── .✦ word count

⟢ 3k !

── .✦ tags ! (warnings included)

⟢ d:bh au, android!leon, second-person, no use of y/n bc i’d rather get pistol slapped in the neck, “welcome leon” reference :’), angst, gore descriptions.

── .✦ a/n !

⟢ i wrote this during this past summer so if any of the upcoming parts seem disconnected, it’s because they lowkey are like i fr forgot what all i was writing help- also leon mod by fuazap (IG) and connor pic by clancyaep!

⟢ part two!

⟢ part three!

September 30th, 2038.

5:47pm.

This was it: it was Leon’s first day as the first android detective in Raccoon City. He was a prototype, of course, but it was still fascinating nonetheless. Those interested in progress and supportive of the creation of androids were excited for such an achievement. Androids were slowly becoming more prominent in day-to-day life, and to have an android detective joining the RPD? That was just proof that not only the human race was evolving, but so was nascar the android race as well.

The blond android opened one of the double-doors to the station, taking in the sight and scent of it all. His baby blue irises flickered around, observing anything and everything about his new workplace. The department used to be an art museum, with some of the artworks still lingering in both obvious and hidden spaces. Each and every piece is still in great condition, cleaned with care even years later. His eyes then moved towards the people inside the building, mostly officers and other seasoned people in the workforce, but a few citizens there for various reasons as well. It was rather lively, he noticed — full of different people with different stories. It was intriguing, and he was ready to start his first day.

Mere moments later, a man walked up to the android, ready to introduce himself. Leon, however, was already scanning the stranger’s face and using any and all information accessible to him to identify the man before him. “Lieutenant Branagh, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Leon, the android sent by CyberLife,” the blond introduced, reaching out his hand to give the Lieutenant a firm handshake. His synthetic skin was sort of pale, yet soft and cool — almost as if he was a real human.

But he wasn’t. Everything about him was artificial, and if he ever had any doubts, he would be harshly reminded before he was reset. Can’t risk having any deviants, after all.

“Leon. It’s good to have you on the team,” Branagh replied, shaking Leon’s hand before guiding him through the station. “We’ve had a few cases come up within the last couple of days, and we’re eager to get you started to see if you can help us out.”

The android nodded softly in response, following Branagh. “Whatever it takes to save the city, count me in.”

The pair made their way through the building, eventually walking into the west office. Immediately, Leon noticed the wooden desks in the middle of the room, lined out perfectly. A smaller office was in the back left corner, most likely for someone of higher ranking compared to the everyday officer. Shelves and lockers decorated the empty spaces, serving various purposes.

Above the desk in the front was a sign, yellow letters painted on dark blue circles that read “welcome Leon.” All around it were star decorations, hung up by twirling ribbons. How sweet.

“We weren’t sure if you would need a desk or not, but some of us felt as if it would be better safe than sorry,” the lieutenant explained. Leon just gave a simple nod, thanking him for the thought.

That’s where you came in. His light blue eyes met yours and he immediately began to scan you, unbeknownst to you of course. His LED shifted to yellow for a moment before returning to the usual blue, and he was done figuring out the basic details of your identity.

You rose from your desk, walking over to Leon and Lieutenant Branagh before politely introducing yourself. You were one of the few people in the RPD that actually supported the existence of androids, advocating for them and defending them when and if needed. Unfortunately, most people in the department despised androids, but you chalked it down to them just feeling insecure and scared of progress. That’s probably all it was. That, and one too many sci-fi movies.

“Detective, as you know, you’ll be paired with Leon until further notice. I’ve already sent you every file you need for your first mission together. Any questions?” Branagh asked, making sure you two had everything you needed.

You thought for a minute, doing your best to ensure that you had every piece of information needed for the day that lies ahead. Once you were sure, you gave your response. “No, sir. I believe we’re good to go.”

“Great. I’ll be in my office.” And with that, Branagh went off, leaving you and your new companion alone to talk about your next mission. You weren’t really sure about what to do, as this was your first time working alongside androids, but it couldn’t be that much different from working with humans… could it?

“Your vital signs indicate that you are stressed… would you like to talk about it?” Leon inquired, his bright blue eyes searching your face as he awaited your response. Yeah… that’s what makes it different. He could tell if there was a change in your mood, your heart rate, anything. In one way, it was useful! It made missions and working with him a lot easier. But on the other hand, he knew basically everything that you were feeling, and that was terrifying.

“Uhhh… no, thank you,” you managed to reply, yet it grew more and more awkward with every fleeting moment. “I’m sure I’ll feel better when the case is solved.”

“Understandable. Now, we must move forward with our mission. Could you explain the details to me?” Leon requested, his brows furrowing slightly as he spoke. Everything about him seemed so… real. So human. But it was all just synthetic fibers and extensive coding in the end. Anyone with a brain could and would tell you that.

You nodded lightly in response, moving over to your desk to lift the files off of the stained wood before you. Gently flipping through the pages, you refreshed your memory before handing them over to your new partner to give him the chance to commit every detail to memory. “In summary, there’s been some people going missing a little further up north in the city. It stopped about three weeks ago, but… a Frankenstein-like android was spotted on Auburn a week ago and that raised suspicion. The cases may be connected and journalists are on us about it,” you explained, digging through your desk for something. Finally, you found it, handing it over to Leon.

It was a photo of the android, some parts missing, some parts replaced, but there was thirium and dirt all over it. It appeared to be taken by a surveillance camera, most likely the corner store right off of Auburn (you could tell because you could see the sign for that Chinese food buffet you and your best friend visit often).

Leon scanned the image, the LED on his temple flickering yellow for a moment before dissipating back into the normal bright blue hue. He’d likely need more information before determining the model of the runaway android. He then lifted his head from the photo to meet your gaze. “Do we know of the whereabouts of the android?”

“He was brought into questioning this morning after our team looked for him for several days. He doesn’t seem like a suspect, but I do think he could give us more intel,” you replied, adding the photo to the small, neat pile of files.

Your android partner gave you a small nod, gesturing for you to lead the way — and that you did. You carried the files within your arms, guiding Leon to the interrogation room where the damaged android sat. He was quiet, his eyes focused on the table before him. His dark hair was disheveled, his pale synthetic skin torn and covered in blue blood and grime. His clothes were dark, and didn’t fit him properly. Whatever happened, it must’ve been awful.

Most assumed that androids had little to no emotion whatsoever, and that theory was being tested as you glanced at Leon — his features were neutral as if nothing was happening. You, on the other hand, felt pity for the artificial human in front of you. He seemed traumatized, broken by whatever events had taken place to bring him here. It was heartbreaking, really.

You motioned for Leon to wait outside of the room, wanting to start the process yourself. You didn’t know what your new partner was capable of yet, and you just wanted to try to see if you could get anything out of the broken being in front of you before letting Leon step in.

Once the android detective stepped out of the room, waiting behind the two-way mirror. You sat down in the metal chair across from the possible victim, sifting through the files one last time before pressing him for any information.

You started with introducing yourself politely, giving your name and ranking, as well as stating why you were here before him. His gaze never shifted, but you could tell that he was listening to you — even if he seemed like he was mentally elsewhere. “Would you like to tell me your name? So I know how to address you?”

He didn’t respond. It was the same silence that filled the room upon your arrival. But once you waited for a few moments, the android softly sighed, yet still focused on the old metal table. “Samuel,” he replied in a quiet yet firm tone, possibly hiding whatever was going through his circuitry.

A small smile formed on your lips as you heard his response, feeling as if you made some progress with him. “Samuel… It's nice to meet you. I promise that you’re not in any trouble, I just need to ask you a few questions, is that okay?”

Another silence fell upon the room, but you hoped that you could move on and get some answers. And if you couldn’t, then maybe Leon could. “Several people have gone missing around Auburn Avenue within the last month or so. Just to be clear, we don’t suspect you, but we feel as if you may have some information for us since some security cameras spotted you in the area and you seem rather… distant, like you may know something that could help us.” You didn’t really have confirmed information at the time, but you hoped that your gut feelings were right about Samuel. Maybe he did know more than he was letting on.

“I didn’t- I didn’t do anything… I just wanted out of there…” Samuel stated, his tone rather emotional as he spoke. Androids weren’t supposed to feel emotion at all, especially not as strongly as humans do, right? He must’ve deviated at some point.

“I know, I know you didn’t,” you replied softly, trying to keep it easy on him for now. “Could you tell me more about the place you found yourself in? What happened there that scared you so badly?” After that question, you could tell that he was really starting to break down. Whatever he experienced must’ve been a nightmare that manifested into reality because you had never seen such heartbreak within an android’s face before.

You decided to have Leon join you, hoping the two of you could ease Samuel’s mind and get more information out of him to not only help your case, but to help this poor android as well.

Moments later, you and Leon sat across from Samuel, silence filling the room as Leon scanned the android. His systems determined that the model was an AP700, a type of CyberLife androids designed to be household assistants. Maybe he knew the suspect or one of the people that had gone missing?

“Could you tell us about what happened? Right from the start,” Leon requested as he watched Samuel’s every move, scanning the android’s heartbeat. He’s in distress, and rightfully so. They just needed to figure out why.

The broken droid before you remained silent, seemingly processing the events that brought him here in the first place. He took a few moments to answer, but he was slowly readying himself. He lifted his head, gaze meeting yours. The model originally had bright blue irises, practically an ice cold color. But now, all you could see was a black that seemed as if it was an empty void. How could so much emotion show within such empty eyes?

“Martha… Martha asked me to walk with her to and from work that night. Her car was in the shop, and she was too scared to be alone at night,” Samuel explained, his eyes flickering around the room as he tried to focus, doing anything in his power to calm himself down. Leon sat in silence, allowing Samuel to explain, and you decided to follow his lead for now.

“She was more than just the person I served… she was my friend. I could never deny her. So… I said yes. I waited in parking during her shift, and walked with her to her house. But on our route, a man shot at me, impairing my vision and then dragged her into an alleyway.” Samuel’s voice faltered as he spoke, every recollection of the past events just feeling like pure agony. You could tell that he was telling the truth based on his body language, and Leon detected the android’s heart rate had elevated significantly. Regardless, you wrote everything down on a notepad as your partner committed it to memory, leaving no details out.

The damaged droid sighed, his emotional distress growing significantly more apparent with every passing moment. You could dig through his memory and spare him the pain of remembering the events, sure, but that just felt plain wrong. Sure, he wasn’t alive, but he might as well have been. He didn’t deserve that. So, you let him speak, listening closely to every word he uttered.

“Naturally, I followed the man and tried to free Martha, but… I failed. Not without a fight, of course, but… I couldn’t save her. I continued my chase after him, which led me to a seemingly abandoned warehouse of some sort. When I got inside, Martha— Martha was strapped to a table, bleeding out and straining against the confinements. I didn’t see the man, so I tried to help her escape, but instead, he grabbed me and shot me more times than I can count.” His eyes began to fill with tears, but he quickly wiped them away and cleaned his grimy, skinless hands on his dark coat — trying to move on with his story. But it was difficult, as he often got choked up when trying to explain.

Even so, he did his best. He trusted you, and he understood that all you two wanted was to help him.

“But you woke up afterwards, so… what happened then?” you questioned, being gentle with him for now. If either of you were to be too harsh… he may stop answering or do something much worse.

“When I awoke, I was in a junkyard, but I found my way back to the warehouse after hours of searching for it. I knew it wasn’t smart to return, but I couldn’t help it… they had Martha. I couldn’t let her down like that. So I went inside, and after looking for about ten minutes, I found the man’s makeshift lab. There Martha was… skin battered and littered with open wounds. She had- she had died from her injuries.”

He readjusted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. As he spoke, Leon was scanning him, his LED flickering yellow, noticing how the other android’s heart rate elevated and his distress levels increased. So far, things seemed pretty factual. Now you would just need to ask a couple more questions and leave the broken droid alone to process things.

“I guess he was done with her because I was next. And… that’s why I look like this. He made me… a monster. I’m surprised I escaped,” Samuel concluded, sighing afterwards as he looked back down towards the table. He was weakened, both mentally and physically. Some would say that there was an error in his software— that he needed to be reset. But you, on the other hand, believed that he deserved a happy ending after everything he’s been through. His owner, and seemingly the woman he loved, had been experimented on and killed, with him suffering nearly the same fate.

How could someone even do something like that?

You were speechless, of course. Anyone with a heart would be. But Leon was made of codes and machinery, he didn’t think the way you did. He thought it would be best to get answers now and move on to the next case. “Could you explain to us what the man looked like?”

Samuel shrugged softly, “athletic, brown hair and green eyes. His left arm looked strange, like… like it wasn’t his arm.”

You wrote down every answer and every little detail, committing anything and everything to memory as Leon pressed Samuel for more answers. And finally, after what felt like hours of questioning, you had every answer you needed to proceed with the case. “We should head to the warehouse he described. We may find everything else we need there,” Leon suggested as he walked with you throughout the department. As the later hours approached, various staff members switched shifts with their coworkers, ready to get home. And as much as you would like to do the same, you’ve got quite the case on your hands and you severely doubted that you’d be sleeping anytime soon.

“You seem tired, Detective,” the blond stated as his gaze shifted to meet you. Yeah, he definitely scanned you again. That’s part of his job, of course, to check in on you, but it was still kind of unsettling. It would definitely take some time in order to get used to such a thing.

You opened the door to the west office, walking to your desk to put every case-related file together. “You’re right, which is why I’m gonna grab some coffee before we go. I have a feeling that this is going to be a pretty long night.”

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (13) - Shall We?

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

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 13 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 10,166

Work count for Story: 101,472

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

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

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

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

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

Knock knock knock

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god!” you exclaim with a mortified expression. “My wrecker is Mated! I am sorry! I can pick someone else. I promise!”

Again, you are met with more laughter from everyone, and Chan over the phone says, “Babydoll, let me talk to my Stay.”

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

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

“Hi,” is all you can say.

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

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

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

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

It’s at that moment you die.

Like almost literally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah huh,” you affirm, as you cannot believe you are even having this conversation. StrayKids is known for not working with any Playmate service companies, so you knew you would only get to meet or talk to them if you could only find a way to afford a fan meet or a send-off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh. Hi, noona! I am Jeong-In. You may be Lix’s stay for now, but don’t worry. I will save you!” says a playful voice in the background.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All done,” announces Bethany Ann.

Ring Ring

“Hello?” you answer your phone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if they were a bit dorky about it.

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

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

Prime Alpha Kim Namjoon was.

Looking out the car window, you see you are on a beautiful winding road, not the busy streets you expected, which piques your curiosity, asking, “Jen, where are we?”

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

Turning around a final bend, you see the unmistakable dome of the Griffith Observatory. When you first got to California, you used to come here all the time. You can see a few spattering groups of people, but it was autumn, well, almost winter, and getting colder earlier, so it wasn’t unusual for there not to be a ton of tourists right now.

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

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

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

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

Right now, you see him.

Kim Namjoon.

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

100% Alpha.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, but with you being the Prime Alpha of the pack, there are things you should know,” you explain. Taking a deep breath and leaning into Namjoon’s touch, you feel your nerves settle down slightly more.

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

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

“I was with him for almost ten years because I thought he loved me. Why would anyone who didn’t love me buy me gifts and sleep with me if they didn’t love me? Right?” you asked facetiously, knowing you wouldn’t get an answer.

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

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

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

“I found out that I was pregnant,” you say with a hint of lingering excitement from the idea of ever being a mother. “Seven weeks along. I was so happy because it would explain why I constantly felt exhausted and nauseous. I just knew that this news of a baby would make Eric elated, then we could finally get married, and he would treat me better because I was carrying his baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

“The whole time, he was screaming at me about how ugly I was, how fat I was, how worthless and pathetic I was. He threw me my purse and told me to get rid of the devil’s pawn that I was carrying. I ran and ran. I don’t remember calling Evie. I don’t know how she found me and took me to the hospital. But she did. I ended up with two fractured ribs, an ankle sprain, and a miscarriage.”

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

“It broke me,” you mumble into his chest. “After that, I moved into my flat, focused on work, brought Derek into the pack, and took time healing enough to look at myself in the mirror without crying.”

Pushing slightly on his waist, Namjoon slowly releases his hold and looks at you. His eyes hold pain and anger for what you have gone through, but there is something else. It isn’t a pitiful look; it almost looks like awe.

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

Rubbing his hands up and down your arms, you can see him try to process his thoughts before he says, “That is… he caused… skinship. This is why you are hesitant about skinship outside your family pack. The one person you allowed to be close to you with skinship destroyed its meaning and true purpose.”

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

Namjoon takes a moment to look at the now-set sun and the night skyline before continuing, saying, “First off, Angel, you are not broken; you are beautiful. Bangtan is so lucky to have such a strong and fierce woman to be with. Secondly, there is nothing wrong with not being with anyone else after going through what you have been through, and we are not going to force you to do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

“But the contract said...” you start to say.

However, Namjoon cuts you off, saying, “I know what the contract says, and we are sticking to it. You don’t have to be the world’s best at skinship. Skinship takes time, trust, comfort, and connections. Omegas are naturally prone to want skinship. Betas use it to regulate the pack, but Alphas do it out of desire and desire.

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

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

Searching your eyes, he tentatively asks, “And are you okay with that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smile softly, and something inside you vibrates with almost excitement about being able to feel all these things again, even though it still scares you a bit. Having an entire pack of Alphas at your back is thrilling, but you also know you must help them keep their image.

Patting his chest softly, you inform the Prime Alpha, “Well, you don’t have to worry about Eric. Evie and Derek, even before he was a pack member, had been collecting documentation and evidence of Eric’s abuse, and now he is in jail. He isn’t getting out because there were others before me.”

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

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

Like Yoongi, Seokjin, and Jungkook, you felt calm around him now.

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

“Angel, I have something for you,” Namjoon says as he points to a purple and white bag one of the guards at the trail entrance holds. He reaches inside and pulls out a lovely satin and lace bundle. Shaking it out, you see that it is a cloak!

You reach out to take it from him only to get it pulled away, and Namjoon wraps it around your back with a flourish, saying, “I had this made for you after I heard how well your date with Jin-hyung went. I wanted you to join me tonight, and I knew what I would be wearing, so I wanted us to match.”

He continues talking as he ties the cloak in place, “It’s made of thicker satin around the shoulders because I heard you get cold quickly, and the lace is made in the design of our Smeraldo flower, which symbolizes love and hope. It also has a hood, but I don’t want to ruin your hair.”

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

Nope.

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

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

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

The drive to the Gala is relatively short but still long enough for your nerves to try to kick in. Namjoon is holding your hand while scrolling on his phone, “Well, it looks like the news broke about you being our new playmate.”

You reactively squeeze his hand tighter.

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

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

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

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

Well, you thought before that you were getting blinded and bombarded… now it was 100 times more than that just because of the whispering. You can imagine how intimate it looked between you; all you can do is hope you look happy, not like a deer caught in headlights.

Finally, you go to areas where panels and cameras are set up. You notice a few Hollywood Stars, like Dakota Johnson from 50 Shades of Grey, Lil Nas X, who stopped to say hello to Namjoon, and even Kate Capshaw with Steven Speilberg. You had lived in Los Angeles long enough to conduct yourself properly around the Hollywood Stars and not embarrass yourself or the name of BTS.

Soon, it was time for the interviews. Thankfully, most of the questions were geared toward Namjoon. The random few that were asked of you could answer without difficulty. Some interviewers made you laugh, while others were more serious, and Namjoon would step in and take over if they got too pushy or personal.

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

You were perfect.

You were his angel.

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

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

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

His lack of response causes your scent to spike with worry, and you try to get him to answer, “Namjoon?”

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

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

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

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

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

You frown at the thought that your scent is causing issues for Namjoon in such a public event. Grimacing, you say, “Oh! Well, I don’t have a good handle on my scent. Umm… Do you know if they have hybrid rooms for situations like this?”

“Yes! They do… umm, hold on,” she says as she walks over to another man, and they talk in rapid Korean. Soon, they both return to where you are, but now Namjoon has decided to band his arm around your waist, keeping you closer than before. You want to giggle about the wolf hybrid asking like a koala hybrid out of nerves, but you manage to keep that locked away. Right now, the main concern was to get Namjoon out of his worry and into a safe and calm place.

“Hello, I am Lee Jung Jae, human, but I know where the rooms are. Please come with us. We already told Jennie-ah’s manager to let Namjoon-ah's manager know where you two are going,” the man says. Following them down the hall and around a corner, you see a few rooms labeled: “Hybrid only.”

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

Jennie holds the door open for you, “I haven’t seen him act like this since Jungkook-ah joined the pack. It’s a good thing; you have nothing to worry about. Just relax for 5 to 10 minutes, and everything will be fine.”

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

“Alpha? Alpha, can we sit down, please?” you ask, moving toward the couch. You feel Namjoon move his head, hoping he is looking around the room. When he still doesn’t verbally respond, you try another tactic. “Alpha, my feet are hurting. Can we please sit together on the couch?”

That works.

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

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

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

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

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

Adjusting how you sit on his lap, Alpha Joon grips on tighter, but you smile and move a little bit more, allowing you to lean against the arm of the couch while still leaning on his chest. With a relaxing sigh, you say, “I should be fine soon, Alpha Joon. I actually enjoyed walking the carpet with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He searches your face and takes a deep breath of your scent, which still isn’t entirely settled but more than it was before. Reluctantly, he says, “I am, if you are, or we could just go home… if you wanted to?”

Knowing how important and exclusive this event is, you try to smile honestly and answer, “I would like to stay. I haven’t been to a Gala with a dance floor in a while, but it looks fun.”

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

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

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

Next came the dinner.

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe it’s time to start believing them.

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

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

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

He may be known as the God of Destruction, but he will never allow any bond to break between his mates and you.

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

Namjoon danced with you as best he could. That man almost had two left feet, which caused you to laugh never-endingly. Teasingly, you ask,  “How?!? Namjoon! How can you be so bad at dancing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Mr. Lee. I have been trained in multiple ballroom dance techniques but prefer competing in classic Waltz, Salsa, or Tango,” you reply with pride. Your face becomes a defensive mask as you say, “I wouldn’t expect anyone to guess that. Besides, it's not like those dances are very popular anymore.”

A look you are unsure of what it means flows over his face as his eyes flick to Namjoon and then back to you. “Joon-ah, you know it is rude to deny a lady her request to dance. Since you won’t be joining her, I will,” he says, stepping closer to you. He bows, asking, “Miss Y/n, I would very much like to have this dance with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Shall we?” Min Ho asks before he takes the first step into the dance. Your eyes automatically return to Min Ho’s, and your body falls into the dance like it was meant to be there.

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

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

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

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

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

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

With deep, even breaths and his hands clenched at his side, the forest green eyes watch you like a predator watches his prey. Flicking all over your body, they sear heat into your skin as they trace all your contact points with the actor.

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

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

As the music dies, he pulls you up and stands you nose to nose. Your heart is pounding, not because Lee Min Ho looks like he will kiss you… No no. It’s because Lee Min Ho looks like he will kiss you while Alpha Joon watches from somewhere in the formed crowd.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alpha Bobcat hybrid. You didn’t think I was this graceful by being human, right? Couldn’t you feel my athletic but lithe build while we were dancing so closely?” Min Ho says as his eyes wander up and down your form. A look of something passes over his face when Namjoon’s grip tightens, and the growl grows louder.

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

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

With that, he turns and disappears into the crowd. However, you also want to disappear into the crowd but cannot because you have a Prime Alpha at your back with a death grip on your waist. Glancing around, you are at least relieved to see that it is mainly hybrids watching with worried looks on their faces, but no one has responded or reacted like anything is out of the ordinary.

This may be something normal for Alphas.

Running through everything you could do next to escape from the dance floor, you keep thinking about the fact that you didn’t know Lee Min Ho was a hybrid, and dancing caused Namjoon to be this unhappy. Instinctively, you should be scared, and you are… right?

Or are you excited?

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

Why?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, wanting to get away from the many hybrid eyes and not run into Lee Min Ho again, you reach for his hand and step into his personal space, asking, “Alpha Joon, can we head home now? You can scent me in the car if you’d like.”

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

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