#mild a/b/o
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puppyboyheat · 2 years ago
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"Aww Puppy, what's the matter? Is your heat getting to you that much that you can't do anything but whimper at the even the slightest touch? Well, that won't do at all, now will it? Don't worry yourself, I'll take care of everything~"
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frownyalfred · 8 months ago
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Wait, That was the Joker? I for sure thought it was Ghostmaker
It was Joker 😈
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thatcharmingjerk · 1 year ago
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First I had to trot to catch my bus, only to not remember if I had turned coffee maker off (I had) so I had to hop off of my great catch and trot back home and then to catch another bus
Hhhhhh
Well at least I made it into this one
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obsessivevoidkitten · 3 months ago
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Throwback
Male Triceratops Hybrid Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Capybara Hybrid Omega Reader
CW: Noncon, painful to pleasureable sex, mild violence (not towards reader), time travel, sexism, breeding, impregnation, pheromones, a/b/o, musk, scent marking, scent kink, sucking on dem big man titters, biting, bite marking, claiming, exceptionally huge dick, reader inflated with copious cum, knotting
Word Count: 1.9k
(Sometimes I get stuck on WIPs and have to do something new to write again. I wrote this in two days. Hope y'all like it! Please feed me with comments ❤️)
You were an omega demi-human. Part capybara, though the only evidence of this was your soft ears. More importantly, you were a quantum physicist. Currently, you were studying and recreating what you thought to be a time travel device. Your thoughts and theories had been dismissed entirely by your peers. It didn't help at all that you were an omega. Omegas working in academia were almost universally harassed, derided, and treated with condescension. As if their omega brains couldn't work at the same level as betas and alphas.
But even if it wasn't some type of device for traveling through time it was certainly alien to the time period from which it originated. It was made of advanced alloys and components that had been flattened, buried, and heavily corroded over time. The rock in which it was embedded in was older than any ancient society.
You had been working on manufacturing a functional copy of the artifact for years. Shmoozing up eccentric rich fucks, getting help from the exceedingly few colleagues who would help you in any way, slowly analyzing every detail and carefully bringing it all together. And at long last it was complete. The zenith of your career was at hand. And after some cautious testing that you conducted privately, it was ready to show to others.
You managed to get a spot at a small conference, though you had lied about the subject on which you would be speaking, and by the time it was your turn most of the audience had left. Not many academics cared what an omega had to say. Let alone one with a reputation for being a crackpot. But there were still enough of your fellow scientists and this would all be on video.
Instead of introducing the topic of your presentation, which would be a surefire way to lose what people were still watching, you opted for wheeling out your machine onto the stage and stepping in. With a deep breath, you booted it up and the entire contraption disappeared with a flash.
When you exited the machine there was an immediate problem. You stepped out of the machine into a forest with giant trees and flowers. You had only intended to go back a minute to when your presentation started but had made an error. You turned around to step back in but something pulled you backwards by your rear. You fell back and saw before you a humongous man charging at your time machine. He wore only a ragged fur loincloth and swung a massive club. He looked human except for his size, thick tail, scaled arms, and three horns on his head. One large horn from each temple and a small one extending from my nose.
You looked on in horror as he swung a mighty club down upon your only way back to your own time, repeatedly smashing it down until it resembled the exact shape of the artifact that had been excavated in your time. The relic that you had fashioned your own machine after. That wasn't what your attention was on, however. You were much more focused on getting away from the raging beast of a man who could flatten metal so easily.
Though with his task of destroying the frightening affront to nature that had appeared from nowhere now complete, he turned his attention to you. He shouted at you in a language you didn't understand, though his intent was clear. He had a massive erection sticking out from his loincloth and aggressively sniffing at your neck after picking you up with unexpected care.
With exertion of great willpower, the trike-man managed to not breed you silly right there in the forest. Your pheromones were driving him nearly feral. Modern-day omega pheromones were many times more potent than any prehistoric omega. They had evolved through millennia to pique the interest of choosy alphas despite the steep competition, an evolutionary arms race to try to snag an alpha.
That wasn't the only appealing trait. You were exotic, had cute little furry ears on your head, and you were so small, couldn't fight back and act all defiant like the omegas from his time.
You did struggle though. You had seen his arousal and could still smell it. Almost anything would be better than being violated in such a manner by such a hulking brute. He chuckled at your struggles, they were successful only in tiring you out. On the long way to his lair, between your squirming, kicking, and punching, you had gathered that his name was Orryg. At least you thought it was. He did not speak English, but he gestured at himself and seemed to be trying to give you his name.
He found your struggles kinda cute, mistaking them for an eagerness to escape his grasp and get on with taking his cock already. Omegas were so silly.
"Don't worry. Going to breed you plenty. Better in a secluded place."
You had no idea what he said, but his voice was deep and sounded angry so you could only assume it was something in annoyance at your struggles so you went limp. The giant man could snap you like a twig if he wanted to, best not to make him too upset. And honestly, even if you did escape, where the fuck would you go? What if Orryg wasn't the worst thing prowling about in the time period?
The walk went on for a while, with Orryg giving you an occasional lick or mumbling out some words you didn't have any hope of understanding. After a fair amount of time, Orryg stopped to sniff the air. Suddenly there was a roar from behind.
Orryg turned the two of you around just in time for him to take his club and smack it into a man who was every bit as huge as he was. Swatting him away easily despite being similar in size and build.
This one had sharp teeth and clawed fingers. He spat blood and growled. Orryg regarded him with a scowl.
"Udvik! You know this is trike territory!!"
"Omega smells good, not claimed yet. Thought I'd try..."
"Go before I smash you! This is MINE!"
Udvik spat again and hobbled off. But your suspicions had been confirmed, there were definitely things other than Orryg to be worried about in this time period. You were pretty shaken up seeing a half-dino man jumping at you and watching your captor fight him off. With those teeth it had clearly been no herbivore, it probably would have slaughtered you. Your fear must have been evident in your scent because Orryg held you tighter and nuzzled you.
"That battle got my blood flowing, really need to fuck you. Sorry if it scared you, I'll breed you all better. Almost home."
You continued to have zero idea what the hell he was saying. But you figured with the nuzzling it was something comforting. Though your ability to figure anything out was pretty absent by this point. Your brain was soup. All the anxiety and adrenaline and alpha pheromones had finally gotten to you. You looked at the ground in a stupor as he continued to carry you over his shoulder.
The next thing you were consciously aware of was him entering the cave with you and placing his club at the entrance. He laid down on a slab of stone covered in thick layers of soft furs and placed you on top of his muscled body. Before you had any chance to react he began administering attention to your sensitive neck. You squirmed involuntarily, writhing in pleasure on top of him from the neck stimulation alone.
If that wasn't enough, you were practically drowning in his musk. You had been since you entered his dwelling, the cave was saturated in it, but now he was forcing your head under his arm and making you drink it all in. Smearing your face with it and marking you with his smell. Slick was leaking out of your needy hole and pooling on his abs.
"I knew this would make you feel better."
The trance you were in was only partially broken once you felt the blunt head of his much too-large member press against your hole.
"W-wait! I don-"
But he had no idea what you were saying, and even if he did he knew you'd love his dick so much that you wouldn't protest for long. At this point, you were going to be his... no matter what.
You yelped in pain as he pressed into you, spreading you like none of your toys ever had. He swallowed your shout by pressing his mouth into yours, trying to distract you from the pain with a sloppy kiss before attending to your neck again. Despite every instinct telling him to just ram in and ravage you he restrained himself knowing that doing otherwise could seriously injure you.
"Ah!"
Even with his care it still hurt as he slowly eased his prick all the way into you, he rubbed the outline of his cock through your tummy. Lucky for you omegas were extremely stretchy and pliant.
Orryg slowly thrust back and forth inside you as he hungrily took in your scent. As more precum dribbled into you and mixed with your slick you took him easier and the pain slowly began to ebb away and was eventually replaced almost entirely by pleasure. You moaned softly into his chest as you bit at his pec and sucked his nipple while he kept digging his cock into you.
Your whole body shook and spasmed for a solid minute as you came more intensely than you ever had before. Orryg grunted as the feeling of your body convulsing around him brought him nearly to his climax. The trike man upped the pace just a bit, his heavy balls smacking into you before he started knotting inside you and pumping you full of his virile spunk. One small mercy was that his knot was only a bit thicker than the rest of his cock, not over two times as wide like a modern alpha.
The volume of semen was such that it made you look heavy with child, which you certainly would be after lovemaking like this.
Now that you had been well and truly fucked there was only one thing left for your brand new "husband" to do to really seal the deal. He, with great caution, buried his fangs into your neck to mark you permanently as his to everyone who might see you. Which would be more than you might expect. This was Orryg's outpost, he stayed there while on patrol, but he usually lived with his herd.
It would be a hard adjustment for you to make. You would constantly be under Orryg's watchful gaze or the guard of his tribemates when he went to go hunt or if he went to do things too dangerous for you to be with him. You'd never be alone. Even in the safety of the herd, Orryg would obsessively treat you like something fragile. You would have to adjust your diet to what they ate, mostly fruit and vegetables though they ate meat too, though nothing was familiar to you. You would have to slowly learn their language so you could eventually communicate with the new society that "adopted" you.
But it was okay if it took you a while to get settled, you had all the time in the world.
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crushmeeren · 2 months ago
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⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
࿐ take this 🍧 to keep you occupied while you browse ࿐
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Hoshina’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Mating runs are boring and common where you come from. You’ve taken part in more than you can count, yet no one has been able to catch you and the thrill’s worn off. You’re on the verge of giving up completely when someone new joins your pack. It startles you when you realize that you’re about to be in for the mating run of your life.
┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Bakugou’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ You’ve danced around each other since you were kids. It didn’t start that way, no, it only developed into something more once you turned into teenagers. Once you’ve both reached 21, it’s no secret who you’re deliriously hoping will pin you down during your first, and only, mating run.
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ knotting, breeding, scent kink, biting/marking, fighting as foreplay, a/b/o dynamics.
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Shinsou’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Hitoshi is the only other vampire that works at the bar with you. In fact, you’re two of the only vamps in town. It’s kind of isolating, but you have each other to lean on. You’ve resisted sleeping with him for fear of losing you’re only vampire companion, but when the shitty drunk regular takes it too far you and Hitoshi decide to…. “take care of him”. And each other.
┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Inumaki’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Being the only vampires in your specific group of assassins, you and Toge get contracted out and sent into a vampires only club to pose as a couple and hunt down your next non paying target. Someone must slip something into Toge’s drink to distract him, because the next you know you’re being dragged into a “private room” and riding Toge until your thighs burn.
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ biting, blood play, exhibitionism, sadism/masochism ish?, mild body horror, etc. full versions have all the warnings!
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Touya’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Touya’s a regular at the coffee shop you work in. It’s in a seedier part of town and nobody bats an eye at the villain who stops in every night before close. He never speaks to you after he orders, winking and smiling eerily until the hair on the back of your neck stands up. But he’s the least of your worries. There’s someone wearing a ghost face mask who’s been stalking you after every shift. It’s been going a lot longer than you care to admit. Maybe it’s because, in a twisted way, you kind of like it?
┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Megumi’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Megumi’s your boyfriend, but he’s a bit too obsessed with you. He starts pretending to stalk you at night while wearing a demon mask to drive you even further into his arms and see him as your protector. It backfires when Megumi doesn’t realize that you found out it was him almost immediately. Nevertheless, you’re going along with it because you’re just as obsessed and delusional about him.
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ hints of hunter/prey, stalking, mask kink, breath play, knife play, a mixture of degradation and praise, yandere vibes.
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┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Kirishima’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Boys fucking suck. Especially when it comes to sex. When you come across a forum of other women who have dealt with this problem, the word incubus catches your eye. After spiraling down a rabbit hole of what and how to obtain your own incubus, you think you’re getting a demon who’s dark and mysterious who can satisfy you. You end up with a demon that has the sun shining out of his ass. Although, he still ends up being way more than satisfying.
┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ Kenma’s version ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Kenma, according to you, is the laziest and worst incubus you’ve ever worked with. As a succubus, you work twice as hard as he does and still he ends up wreaking more havoc and causing such an insane amount of psychological damage that it causes your blood to boil. When you confront him about it, Kenma’s apathetic as usual. Then he shows you why he wears the crown. What a fool you were.
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ light bondage, choking, size kink, biting/marking, praise kink, rough sex, anal sex.
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⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣
Whether you’re into monster fucking or something creepier, I’ll be feeding you little bats well this year. I do hope you’ll take a look around and find something that interests you.
I can’t promise these will all be super long since I’ve decided to torture myself and use two characters for each prompt, but I can promise they will be written to the best of my ability!
For the record, I will be writing these as 𓐩 ⋆ FEM READER ⋆ 𓐩. I hope this doesn’t disappoint anyone, but this is what I’m comfortable with and I’m not changing my mind.
That being said, cross my heart and hope to die I’ll put my blood, sweat, and tears into these! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚
master list link
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hobnobs1103 · 7 months ago
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top 10 hannibal quotes:
1. she weaponised her uterus (what the fuck mason)
2. in the pantry
3. i’m not interested in a pissing contest with you dr lecter
4. i am b e d r o c k
5. i said it was mild 💅
6. “what do you consider him?” “dead”
7. is your social worker in that horse?
8. no pajama party for you mr graham
9. feeling paternal will
10. he helped us milk you (what the fuck is wrong with this family)
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colormepurplex2 · 20 days ago
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Golden Cufflinks | JJK
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▻ Golden Cufflinks ↳ Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!f.Reader ⤜ Best Friend's Fiance, Strangers to True Mates ⤜ A/B/O AU | angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 11,742 ⤜ Summary: You’ve never given much thought to finding your true mate, firmly believing it’s something that will happen when it happens. But, when you do find him—thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks—it very well could ruin everything. They say not all’s fair in love and war; you just hadn’t expected your best friend’s wedding to be the battleground. ⚠️ Crass language, talk of designation hierarchy, mild talk of misogynistic practices of the past, confessions of cheating(not by main pairing), anger/arguments, kissing, dick sucking, mild cum intrigue, maybe mild breeding kink if you squint, unprotected v. sex, knotting, lots of slick and cum
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Written for @hisunshiine as part of the 2nd Quarter 2023 @bangtanwritershq Awards Season! A/N: Congratualtions, Vanessa. You deserve all the kudos for a job well done during the 2nd Quarter 2023, I hope you enjoy the story!
A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi, @lo1k-diamonds, @moonleeai for the amazing beta services!
Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad
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Nerves flutter in your belly as you gather your belongings from the plastic bin at the end of the rolling conveyor belt on the other side of security. As you walk away, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you have to juggle your purse and jacket to retrieve it.
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You feel bad for making Hayun, your best friend for as long as you can remember, wait for a response, but you desperately just want to find your gate and have a seat first. Once you find it and settle in at a chair by the big windows looking out on the tarmac, you thumb to her contact.
“If I didn’t love you so much, I’d probably hate you right now for making me wait so long for a response,” Hayun sasses before her voice softens, “Hello, I love you.”
“Love you, too, girl,” you say, unable to help the smile that tilts your lips up. “Sorry, I’ve been MIA for the last few hours. Things have been hectic. I misplaced my passport this morning, but I finally found it under the bed and then missed the hotel shuttle. I had to call a rideshare, but of course, it took them forever to get through airport traffic, and ugh…” you trail off with a sigh. “I’m sitting down for the first time since I woke up this morning.”
Which was approximately four hours ago at this point. Your flight is set to take off less than an hour from now, so you imagine boarding might start soon. You’re not exaggerating when you say it’s been hectic. It was bad enough waking up at 3 AM, but you’re a chronic planner and stickler for time, so missing your flight was the absolute last thing you wanted to happen.
“Oh, babe, that sucks. I’m glad it’s all worked out, though. I really can’t wait to see you!”
The conversation passes quickly, easing your heart and mind as you catch up on the last twenty-four hours. You haven’t seen Hayun in a handful of years. Her career took her to the other side of the world, and yours kept you where you both grew up. The last time you saw her was through a haze of tears at this very airport when she boarded a plane destined for Seoul, South Korea, where she was adopted from at just two years old.
Visiting each other was always something you both talked about. But, as with most things, life just happens, and eventually, you find yourself making that visit you always talked about for reasons you never considered before—like your best friend tying the knot with a guy you’ve never met.
Sure, you’ve seen pictures of him and have heard him talk in the background of most of the phone calls you’ve exchanged with Hayun over the last few years. But, it was never on your friendship bingo card that the next time you’d find yourself seeing your best friend, it would be her at her wedding.
“I gotta go. They’re about to start boarding.”
“I’ll see you when you land. Can’t wait!”
Hayun disconnects the call, and you gather your belongings to prepare to line up in the boarding queue. It will be a long flight, but seeing Hayun again after so long apart will be worth it.
You fiddle with the bracelet on your left wrist, twisting and pinching at the silver moon charm dangling from the thin chain. Hayun has a matching one. They were presents from your parents on the day you were both recognized with your designations; she was thirteen, and you were fifteen.
The dynamics of Alphas and Omegas have long since changed from what it once was. Legend has it that once upon a time, an Alpha and an Omega were closer to their wolf-kin than how the world is now. Thanks to evolution and science, the only things remaining from that time are the more basic bodily functions—scents, knots, and slick, to sum it up.
The crescent charm on your wrist symbolizes your designation—Omega. But being an Omega doesn’t hold much meaning for you. You don’t feel all that special, and it’s not like you’re rare or any more or less capable than the next person. As it stands, you can see at least a dozen other moons jangling from bracelets, waiting to board the same plane you are.
There are also necklaces, tattoos, and other ways to display a designation scattered around the waiting area. The how of it is mostly regional, sometimes generational. The Beta standing behind you in the queue has a teardrop earring dangling from their left ear, and if it weren’t for the pheromone blockers you took this morning, you might be able to smell their unique scent.
You also have your own smell, a scent that is just you. You’ve been told it’s a sweet, citrusy bouquet like lemonade on a hot summer afternoon. However, also thanks to the blockers, it remains suppressed to the point someone would have to make you bleed or press their nose so firmly against your throat it hurts to smell it.
There really is only one thing that a lot of people are envious of when it comes to an Omega’s designation, and that is that they supposedly have an Alpha true mate out there somewhere that will call to their baser nature. It’s such a rare phenomenon these days that it might as well be part of the legends of old, too.
The bottom line is that no one cares about subgenders anymore; it doesn't matter whether your charm is the Omega crescent, the teardrop of a Beta, or the triskelion denoting an Alpha. In fact, you’re pretty sure you could ask the Beta for their earring and offer them your charm bracelet and no one would bat an eye over it.
Though you’d never do that, considering the chain around your wrist isn’t technically yours. The night after you presented as Omega, when you snuck away with Hayun to lay on a blanket under the stars and moon that was so like the charm hanging from your twin bracelets, you giggled as you exchanged them. Her tiny fingers trembled against your wrist as she secured her silver chain around it. You did the same with your own around hers a second later.
It was that night that you both swore always to be friends. No matter what happened in life or where either of you ended up, you would always remain true to one another. So far, your friendship has been unfailing, a constant thread of comfort and light for you both. No matter how long it’s been, the charm still smells faintly of your best friend—a perk of the charms themselves, holding a token essence of their owners. Hers holds a soft lilac and jasmine scent that you’ve always thought complimented your own citrus notes.
The flight attendant scanning boarding passes beckoning you forward breaks you out of your internal reflections. With a full heart and giddy anticipation curling in your belly, you find your seat and settle in.
It’s a long flight, longer than most flights you’ve taken. But when you finally walk off the plane, make it through customs and immigration, and finally empty into the arrivals terminal of the Incheon Airport, you feel immediate relief, and the hours spent in the air don’t seem so bad.
“Hey, over here!” a familiar voice calls out, catching your attention.
You spin on your heel, confusion setting in for just a moment before it’s replaced by another wave of relief and a little of something warmer. Taehyung, Hayun’s adopted brother, swamps you in a giant bear hug that quite literally sweeps you off of your feet.
“Wow, hey. This is a surprise. What are you doing here? Where’s Hayun?”
Taehyung scrunches up his face, letting out a small scoff. “It’s a good surprise, I hope. Something came up, and she had to meet with the wedding planner and caterer at the last minute. She called me and asked if I could pick you up.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah,” you confirm with a smile. “Good surprise.”
It’s no secret that you’ve always been fond of Taehyung. As a baby, you were toddling around with him long before his family adopted Hayun. She ended up being the sister you never knew you needed, even if you were a few years older.
When she moved to Seoul for work, Taehyung ended up being the physical representation that took her place. He flew out a week before you to help her with planning and will stay for a few weeks after you’ve already headed back home. They may have had their differences over the years, but their sibling bond is stronger than petty arguments and rivalries.
“Ready to get on the road? It’s a long drive.”
Hours later, with the rolling countryside and farms dotting the horizon, you discover the fiasco inside your backpack. The bottle of pheromone blockers you packed this morning somehow got shuffled to the bottom of your bag and popped open. The once-powder-filled capsules litter the bottom of your bag, broken open. Pale blue powder coats your things, the mild flower smell of the medicine lingering in the air.
“Fucking hell,” you groan. “Any chance there’s a clinic somewhere between here and where we’re going?”
“Unfortunately, no.” He frowns, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, making the triskelion signet ring on his index finger glitter in the mid-day sun. “We’d probably have to turn around and head nearly three hours back to get anywhere near a clinic with blockers. I'm told most people don’t use them anymore these days here. Maybe another one of the wedding party might have some you could borrow if you really need them. But, honestly, I don’t see anyone minding if you don’t use them.”
“Most people here don’t use them anymore?”
“Well, yeah, with the progression of equality and things like that. They’re so great here, way more progressive than back home. It’s very common for Omegas to go off of blockers or never even begin them. Laws have been implemented to punish Alphas who can’t control themselves. The responsibility of remaining safe shouldn’t be solely set on the shoulders of the Omega population.”
Talk like that has only recently become popular back home. You’ve heard the speeches and followed the media and the sources, but you suppose after nearly half of your life taking blockers, it just comes naturally to continue to do so.
“Hm, yeah, okay. I guess it’s no big deal, really. As long as you’re sure people won’t mind?”
Taehyung sniffs the air, his nose twitching. “I think you smell great, but just in case not everyone does, if someone says something, then I’ll personally drive all the way back to the city and pick you up some,” Taehyung promises, giving you one of his swoon-worthy smiles.
The crush you once upon a time had on Taehyung threatens to spark anew at the sight of his charming, boxy grin—a grin you would have once done anything to pull from him. But now, it just fills you with warmth and a homey comfort.
You give him a smile of your own. “Deal.”
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“Hayun!”
Her squeal of delight when she turns around and catches sight of you echoes through the open space of the dimly lit bar of the bed and breakfast where the wedding is taking place.
It’s a cozy space with rich dark wood accents and royal blue velvet upholstery. Brass gas lamps and light fixtures give the entire lounge an upscale and chic atmosphere that you know is right up Hayun’s alley.
The few hours you had between checking in at the bed and breakfast and meeting Hayun for her very small—just you and one other person—bachelorette party were spent familiarizing yourself with the grounds.
The ceremony will take place in one of the lavish gardens, and the reception will follow in one of the grand dining halls. For a bed and breakfast, it’s far fancier than any you’ve ever been to. It definitely does not have the mom-and-pop feel that you typically associate with the term ‘B&B’.
“You’re here!” she shrills, throwing her arms around your neck.
Her petite form fits just like it always has against yours. Thick black hair, shorter than the last time you saw it, curls around the rounded lines of her cheeks, and her brown eyes are bright and glisten with happy tears. With her bubbly personality and small, wispy frame, she's always reminded you of a fairy.
You sigh, taking a deep breath and savoring your best friend's soft, floral scent. Thanks to the bracelet tinkling around her wrist, it holds the smallest undercurrent of your sweet citrus. Clearly, she’s not taking blockers; the scents are heavy and delightful. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Hayun sucks in a deep breath that mirrors yours. “Wow, babe, you smell good! Finally gone off the blockers, huh?”
“Uh, kind of,” you chuckle, untangling yourself from her arms. “I brought some, but they broke open in my bag at some point.” You shrug. “Tae said it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.”
“Oh, it’s not. Absolutely not,” Hayun agrees, grinning broadly. “I’ve been off them for years and haven’t had a single issue. Come on, let’s have a drink and catch up!”
You settle in at a table, and it’s not long before Eunseo, Hayun’s other guest, joins you. You’ve heard a lot about Eunseo. Much the same way Taehyung took the place of Hayun for you, Eunseo took your place for Hayun. You half expect to feel some sort of friendship jealousy upon meeting Eunseo for the first time, but it doesn’t come. If anything, you’re immediately fond of the young woman.
The evening carries on, Hayun and Eunseo regaling you with tales from working together and their various adventures around Seoul. Eunseo shows genuine interest in your life back home, seeming eager to hear stories of Hayun’s childhood. She shows a particular interest in Taehyung, asking you in no certain terms more than you think is appropriate to share.
“But you’ve seen it, right?” Eunseo asks. Her elbows rest on the table, and her chin is nestled on her clasped hands, her eyes wide and glassy from the countless glasses of wine she’s had. “I bet it’s huge. Am I right?”
“Ugh,” Hayun groans. “Can we not talk about my brother’s dick. Please.” She makes a gagging sound before slurping down the rest of her cocktail and flagging down a passing waiter for another.
You try to wave off the waiter, but he’s turned toward the bar before you can get his attention. If Hayun has much more to drink, you’re not sure she’ll be able to walk down the aisle tomorrow unassisted.
“I’m just curious. It’s a harmless question,” Eunseo pouts. “Ignore her. Tell me. I just have to know.”
You swirl the straw around in your glass of water before giving Eunseo what you hope is a conspiratorial look. “Well—”
“What?! Ew. Are you really about to answer her? Please, dear god, do not tell me you have seen my brother’s penis. If you’ve seen it—fuck, I might actually puke.”
As much as you probably shouldn’t, you laugh, which earns further protests and obscene noises from Hayun.
“Before you interrupted me, I was going to say that maybe Eunseo should ask him herself.”
Hayun howls a protest, sloshing her new cocktail onto the table as she gesticulates a crude hand gesture in your direction. “Do not. I repeat, do not do that, Eunseo!”
The conversation peters off, Hayun losing herself in another cocktail while Eunseo stares dreamily up at the ceiling.
“I think—hiccup—it's bedtime,” Eunseo slurs.
As if right on cue, a familiar face peeks through the entrance to the lounge. You wave Taehyung down, and he comes jogging across the space to your table. His shirt is rumpled with the top few buttons undone, but his eyes are clear, and you know he’ll be a perfect gentleman.
“Are you sure?” you ask him, pitching your voice low.
“I got this, don’t worry. We finished up a few hours ago anyway.”
Taehyung gives you a warm, private smile before turning to Eunseo. “Hey there, beautiful. Let’s get you on to bed, okay?”
“Where’s my savior?” Hayun asks, frowning after her brother escorting Eunseo from the lounge and back through the front lobby.
“Right here,” you tell her, sliding out of your chair and coming around to her side of the table. “Come on, let’s go.”
It takes you more than twice as long as it usually would to get to Hayun’s room. She leans against the wall in the hall as you dig through her pockets in search of her room key. Once you find it tucked between a few stray bills and her ID, you usher her into the room and deposit her onto the bed.
Her fiance has a room on the other side of the grounds, but after the ceremony, they will both be moving into one of the couple’s suites for the night before jet-setting off to Jeju Island for their week-long honeymoon.
“Am I doing the right thing?”
Hayun’s question catches you off guard. You throw a confused look at her over your shoulder as you rummage through her suitcase in search of something for her to sleep in.
“What?”
She sighs as she rolls over, letting her head hang off the edge of the bed so she can look at you upside down. “Marrying Jungkook. It’s a mistake…so why am I doing it?”
“Hayun…what are you talking about? Jungkook is perfect for you. You guys have been dating for five years, and you told me you’ve never been happier. Where’s the mistake in that?”
The sound Hayun makes is akin to something a wounded animal might make. She flops, flailing her arms and legs like a child throwing a fit.
“That’s the thing, though! I’m happy, but I don’t love him. Oh god,” she cries. “I don’t love him.”
“Hey, hey now.” You abandon the search for sleeping clothes and crawl across the floor until you’re kneeling beside the bed. Smoothing your hand across her forehead, you ask, “Where is all this coming from?”
“He thinks I’m his true mate,” she whispers. The tears leaking from her eyes slide up her face, wetting the edges of her eyebrows before sliding over her forehead and disappearing into her hair. “But I know he’s not mine.”
“Wh—wait, what?” You push up from the floor and move onto the bed, gathering your best friend’s head into your lap so she’s no longer hanging upside down off the side of the bed.
She hiccups a sob, lips trembling as she explains, “He says I’m his true mate, that he knows because of my scent. But he doesn’t smell special to me…how is that possible?”
“Hayun, I don’t—”
“I cheated on him,” she whimpers in confession, cutting off what were going to be your soothing words of affirmation. They sour on your tongue, refusing to be released now.
Your stomach churns at her admittance. “You what?”
“You have every right to judge me. I’m a terrible person. But, when he told me I was his true mate…I panicked. I had to be sure I wasn’t broken, that me not finding his scent special wasn’t just something wrong with me.” Hayun blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears as they begin to come in earnest. She clutches at the front of her shirt, hand fisting over her heart. “So, I slept with two Alphas that I work with to see if it was any different. I had to be sure. I had to know.”
“Hayun, I-I-I don’t…I’m not—”
“I’m such a fucking mess,” she sobs, curling in on you and pressing her face against your stomach. “I don’t deserve him. I only said yes to marrying him because I don’t want to be alone forever. I can’t be like you. I need someone.”
Her words sting, causing you to flinch involuntarily. You watch as she falls apart in your lap, ultimately giving in to her grief. It’s on the tip of your tongue to call her out on her childish behavior, to set the record straight about your own love life, and to leave her to her wallowing. But…the shaking of her shoulders and soft whines from her remind you so much of a younger and more fragile Hayun—the Hayun of your shared childhoods.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” No matter how you might feel about her actions and the hurtful words she’s spilled, you hate to see your best friend so distraught and broken. “Hey, look at me.”
You wait until her watery eyes peel away from your shirt and meet yours. “Tell me you hate me; it’s okay.”
“Hayun, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You made…a mistake, that’s all. You were trying to figure things out. But…Hayun, you…you have to tell him.”
She frowns up at you, her expression sobering. “Tell him?”
“He’s about to marry you, Hayun. That’s a big freaking deal…you have to tell him tomorrow morning before anything else happens.”
The laugh that bubbles from her lips is anything but humorous. “I-I can’t do that! He’ll hate me. He’ll call the wedding off!” She shoves out of your lap and stares at you like you’ve lost your mind.
“If Jungkook truly loves you and says you’re his true mate, I don’t see that happening. But, he deserves to know. You have to know that. Either you tell him now, or he finds out years from now, and then it’ll be so much worse,” you try to reason with her.
“He doesn’t have to know!” she whisper-yells, her tears turning from sad to angry in an instant.
You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing from her. “This isn’t right, Hayun. You can’t go into a marriage with someone with secrets like that!”
“It’s not like it’ll happen again. I’m not going to cheat on him while we’re married. Please,” she begs, her face once more softening into saddened anguish. “I don’t want to lose him.”
“He deserves to know, Hayun,” you whisper, remembering your own keen sting of betrayal from many years ago. There is a reason you don’t date much. “You say it won’t happen again?” you ask, trying to buy yourself some time to process everything Hayun just told you.
Her silence is deafening, and you think she’s about to not answer you the way you hope, but, finally, she murmurs, “No. Never. I swear it.”
“Okay. Okay, good. But, he still needs to know.”
Just because you’ve never actually met Jungkook, it doesn’t mean you don’t care for him. He’s the one who puts a smile on Hayun’s face when you can’t. He’s the reason she’s as happy as she is…or has been? Now, you’re not so sure. But, what you are certain about is that Hayun is far too drunk right now to know up from down and is just having a moment of raw vulnerability.
“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, voice a hoarse whisper.
You chew your bottom lip for a moment before slowly shaking your head. Thinking about it, even if you didn’t care for Jungkook, he still deserves to know on pure principle. “No. I won’t tell him.” She lets out a soft sigh of relief, which has you tacking on, “Because it’s not my place to tell him, it’s yours.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles. “Okay.” She doesn’t say anything more beyond that, falling into a listless stupor, all of her energy sapped from the quick argument and endless cocktails from the bar.
After you wrestle her out of her clothes and put on a long nightgown, she tucks easily into bed. You leave a glass of water on the bedside table for her, then exit the room and head to your own.
A pang of uncertainty refuses to quell in the pit of your stomach. You toss and turn most of the night, falling into a fitful sleep just before the sun begins to kiss the horizon. It’s going to be a long day…a battle of wills you never saw coming.
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Jungkook
Today is the big day, and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Nothing could possibly bring him down from the high he’s feeling. Not even the fact that he is unable to find the cufflinks that were passed down to him by his father.
“Did you check the pockets of all your pants?” Jimin, Jungkook’s best friend, asks from where he’s lounging in one of the chairs on the other side of Jungkook’s hotel room.
“Yes,” he mutters, dumping his entire suitcase onto the bed to rifle through it once again. “I remember putting them with the pile of Hayun’s—oh fuck.”
“That’s great,” Taehyung sighs. “So my sister probably has them.” He checks his watch. “We don’t really have time to go on a scavenger hunt through her room. Jimin and I are supposed to meet the photographer to get started on some of the bride and groomsmen shots.”
Jungkook purses his lips and rakes his hands through his hair as he thinks of a solution. “I’d go look myself, but what if I run into Hayun between here and there? She specifically requested that we not see each other until the ceremony.”
Taehyung hums lightly. “I think I have an idea. The other girls don’t meet for pictures until after we’re done. So…yeah…okay…done,” he murmurs, tapping away at his phone screen. “If they’re in Hayun’s things, they’ll be delivered to you soon.”
“Thanks, Taehyung, you’re a lifesaver.”
Minutes later, Jungkook finds himself alone, Taehyung and Jimin having gone to meet with the photographer. Somewhere out there, beyond the confines of his room, his fiancee is probably smiling and laughing as she poses in front of the camera. If only Jungkook could see through walls. He’d give anything for even just a little glimpse of his bride-to-be.
When Jungkook first met Hayun almost six years ago, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to track her scent. The meeting he was heading for was instantly forgotten, replaced by a visceral need to discover the source of that titillating aroma that had his hindbrain firing on all cylinders.
Never before had Jungkook experienced something so…primal. It was both alarming and utterly fascinating. Amongst the harsh scents of car exhaust and the warm notes of roasted coffee, Jungkook wove his way through the crowd on the sidewalk to the doors of a little cafe; Hayun was inside, ordering a matcha tea to-go, and the rest was history.
Jungkook sighs, forcing himself to stop daydreaming and fiddling with his shirt's empty cuffs and focus on putting together the rest of his suit.
The scent hits Jungkook a moment before the sound of a soft knock reaches his ears. He’s standing in the ensuite bathroom, mid-skin care routine. Wiping his wet fingers off onto a towel, he draws in a deep breath to confirm the aroma wafting to him from beyond the door of his room.
A roguish smirk quirks up one side of his mouth as he exits the bathroom and moves across the room. Unable to help himself, he opens the door. “Hayun,” he chuckles, fingers wrapping around the doorknob, “I thought we agreed that you…you are not Hayun.” The words tumble from his suddenly numb lips, rasping past his too-dry tongue.
“Umm, no. Not Hayun, sorry. You’re Jungkook?”
The woman standing before him is clearly not his fiancee. The woman’s purple gown is familiar, Jungkook knowing it’s what Hayun chose for her attending party. You’re a friend of Hayun, clearly, yet you smell exactly like Hayun…if Hayun smelled like Hayun times a thousand. The fragrance slams into his olfactory system, and the edges of his vision grow blurry a moment before he shakes his head and steadies himself with a hand on the doorjamb.
“Yeah,” he whispers, voice raspy with his suddenly dry throat. Revelations pounding him right between the eyes, washing through his body and keying right into his most basic of instincts.
Jungkook watches as your nostrils flare, and he knows it’s in that moment that you register his cedar and lavadin scent; the scent that marks him for what—who—he is.
“Jungkook,” you repeat his name, and he wants to howl with delight at how it sounds coming from your lips. “No. You can’t…it’s not—” your voice cuts off a second before you drop the small, black leather box you were holding and turn, disappearing in a flash of violet tulle and silk.
🥀🥀🥀
“Stop! Wait, please!” The shout of your name follows you down the hall, but you’re too focused on getting as far away from him and the feelings threatening to overwhelm you as you can.
“No, no, no,” you chant under your breath as you move as swiftly as the slippered feet will allow you to go without tripping yourself up.
It’s clearly not fast enough. It only takes a few frantic beats of your heart before a firm grip on your elbow draws you to a stumbling halt. The touch is electric, and your skin flushes with goosebumps at the heated contact.
“Don’t run,” Jungkook pants. “Please.”
You wretch your arm from his grip and whirl on him, a sharp remark ready on the tip of your tongue. Only, it dies there, never to be uttered, as your heart thumps violently in response to the look on his face—pure anguish.
Your voice is thread-thin as you finally manage to get words out, “This can’t be happening.”
Jungkook’s brow twitches, his lips tucked between his teeth. His emotions are stark on his face, and the conflict is raw and bare to you. Clearly, he’s warring the same as you, maybe even more so.
“Why do you smell like Hayun?” he asks, his voice soft in contrast to the raging storm you see in his eyes. “Why do you smell more like my true mate than she even does? Is this some wicked, cruel prank?”
You shake your head, intentionally drawing a breath through your mouth in hopes of saving your nose from another assault of his perfect scent. But, instead, his flavor laces over your tongue and slides down your throat to sit like a knot in your belly. You might as well have licked a stripe up his neck for all the good that did.
“I-I don’t know,” you choke out, trying to keep the pool of saliva under your tongue from dripping down your chin.
Jungkook steps closer to you, leading with his nose. He sniffs the air around you and something must not sit well with what he discovers because he rears back and bares his teeth. “Of course,” he mutters as his eyes drop to your left wrist.
Your eyes track his movement as he scoops up your wrist in a loose grip, and you realize it’s the bracelet there that has his attention. Everything clicks into place, and you feel like the faintest breeze could sweep you away with how lightheaded you’re feeling at this moment.
“We traded,” you whisper as if speaking low enough means the admission won’t utterly destroy the world as you know it.
“She’s not my true mate,” he states, voice as low as yours, fevered and quiet. “You are.”
Those words punch you in the chest, nearly taking you to your knees. If it weren’t for the hold Jungkook has on your wrist, you’re sure you’d be in a heap on the floor. As it is, he catches his other arm around your waist as you sway on the spot.
“Y-you shouldn’t.” Your protest is stilted, the words feeling robotic and unnatural as you gingerly press a hand against the arm that’s angled around your ribs. It was your intention to push his touch away, but the most you accomplish is flexing your fingers against the smooth cotton covering his thick bicep.
Somehow, you find yourself back in the room you had fled from just a few minutes ago. Jungkook settled you on the bed and is now pressing a chilled water bottle into your hands.
He kneels before you, headless of putting wrinkles in his black dress slacks. He’s wearing a thin white undershirt, his starched white button-up undone over it. The cuffs of the sleeves flop as he brings his hands into his lap and picks at the edges of his thumbnails.
Your eyes rove the room, catching on the black leather box still sitting on the floor by the door where you dropped it. Inside the box is nestled a pair of golden cufflinks—a pair you now understand have been passed down through the generations of Jeon men.
Absently, you press your thumb to your phone, unlocking it to reveal the text message that has irrevocably changed your life forever.
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If you had known Taehyung’s text message requesting help would have led you to where you are right now, you’d probably have ignored it.
Yet, at the same time, if you had, you’d probably have had this revelation with Jungkook in the middle of the ceremony, and it would have caused all sorts of untoward chaos. No, it’s far better that it’s happening now instead of later. Maybe you can get ahead of this and fix it somehow. Though…
“Hey? You okay?” Jungkook interrupts your thoughts. “Fuck, that’s a stupid question. Sorry.”
“Huh? Oh. Umm…yeah. I don’t—what do we do now?” You turn your phone over, finger ghosting over the power button to lock the screen once more.
Jungkook sighs, and you can’t help watching the rise and fall of his shoulders, framing the swell of his defined chest with the action. He’s an exquisite specimen of masculinity, and even if it weren’t for the musky notes of his scent that mark him as your true mate, you’d find him devastatingly attractive.
“We need to tell Hayun. I c-can’t…I can’t marry her. Not when I’ve found—” he cuts off, wincing as his voice breaks. “I should go and find her. Now, before this can go any further. I’m sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll find you later, okay?”
“Wait,” you call after him. He stops halfway to the door and glances back at you over his shoulder. “Shouldn’t we tell her together?”
Jungkook chews the inside of his cheek a moment, his eyes flicking over your face as he thinks through your suggestion. Slowly, he nods. “Yeah, maybe that’s for the best.”
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There is palpable tension between you and Jungkook as you follow behind him out of the main building. He texted Jimin, knowing he’d be the most reliable with his phone on him, asking where the photos were currently taking place.
It only took a few minutes for Jimin to respond that they were almost finished but were currently capturing some group shots on the walking path by the lake on the backside of the property.
You’re vaguely aware of where the lake is located, having given the map of the grounds that was posted on the backside of your room’s door a cursory look the day you arrived. It’s a relatively short distance, yet it feels like miles with the weight of pure dread sitting firmly on your shoulders.
At least it’s not a feeling you’re experiencing alone. Jungkook is right there with you, and you can clearly see the unease in the stiff way his body moves. The tips of his fingers twitch back in your direction every few steps like he’s fighting off the urge to slip them between your own.
The first person you catch sight of is Yoona, the photographer. She’s squatting in the grass, her large DSLR camera held up to her face, as she captures candid moments of Hayun, Taehyung, and Jimin repositioning themselves along the lake's edge.
Your heart squeezes hard at how beautiful Hayun is in her form-fitting silk ivory, off-the-shoulder wedding gown, the lacy bell sleeves fluttering around her hands. Her head is thrown back, the peel of her carefree laughter carrying to you and further crumbling your soul into a million pieces. You ache, not just for the desire to draw closer to your true mate, but for the inevitable aftermath of what is about to happen.
Taehyung is the first to notice you and Jungkook. The smile on his face slowly disappears, replaced by a concerned frown. Hayun catches his expression and follows his line of sight. Her gaze sears into you, and you feel like you might combust into a cloud of ash at any second with the irritation contained in her pretty brown eyes.
“What’s going on?” Hayun exclaims, throwing her hands up in a frustrated manner as she stalks towards you and Jungkook. “It’s not time for your photos yet,” she tells you before her eyes swing to Jungkook. “What happened to not seeing me before the wedding? That was your rule!”
“Hayun, we need to talk.”
“Talk about wh—” she cuts off, her question turning into a gasp. Your wide eyes flick to you. “You told him?”
“What? No!”
Your protest rings out at the same time that Jungkook says, “She’s my true mate.”
A breeze kicks up, sweeping from behind you and tossing errant strands of hair across Hayun’s forehead. You’d give anything for the power to pluck the wind from the air, shove it back…keep it from showering her with yours and Jungkook’s combined scents—a blatant confirmation echoing the words Jungkook just let loose.
Hayun stiffens. Her jaw goes rigid, and her face pales as her nostrils flare. It’s a moment that will be forever written across the band of your friendship. Betrayal flashes through her eyes before morphing into something akin to somber resignation.
“Hayun,” Jungkook begins. “I don’t—we didn’t…I’m sorry. What do we do?” He spreads his hands out in front of himself in a helpless manner.
By this time, Jimin and Taehyung have come up from behind Hayun, faces wary as they take in the scene with growing clarity. You look to Taehyung, hoping he can see the silent plea in your eyes.
“Explain,” Hayun says simply. Despite how collected she seems, you can see the subtle tremble in her hands and the way the muscles in her neck continue to flex and strain as she clenches and grinds her teeth.
Jungkook launches into recounting the events that brought you to his room and broke the proverbial dam. “We—we had no idea. I swear this is the first time we’ve ever met, and gods, the bracelets…” Jungkook trails off, a pained sound rumbling from his chest.
“Is this a joke?” Taehyung asks accusingly, and it’s like a barb to your heart.
“We wouldn’t do that.” Your croaked statement draws Hayun’s attention.
Hayun sniffles, her chin jerking a little higher into the air. “My nose tells me one thing, but my heart tells me another. Did you know about this last night? Is that why you pushed so hard for me to tell him?” The last part is whispered, meant only for you, which hurts even more.
“Hayun, no! You know that’s impossible. I couldn’t have known.”
“Tell me what?” Jungkook asks, having heard despite her whisper, his eyes swiveling between you and Hayun.
You shake your head at him, not wanting to throw further fuel on the fire. “Hayun, please, believe me.”
A pregnant moment full of thick tension passes before it fizzles, and Hayun shakes her head, not in a dismissive fashion but in gentle acceptance. “I believe you,” she tells you. “I guess…I guess there won’t be a wedding in four hours unless you two want…” She trails off, a bittersweet smile tugging at her cherry red painted lips.
Jungkook blanches, wide eyes landing on you. “What? Us? No. I mean, sorry…but—”
Hayun holds up her hand, quelling Jungkook’s flustered response. “I was teasing, Koo, trying to lighten the mood. Um,” she pauses, absently twisting the diamond engagement ring around her finger before slowly slipping it off and closing a fist around it. “Can we talk, though? There’s something I needed to tell you today anyway.”
“Okay,” Jungkook says wearily.
“Tae, do you mind…?” Hayun asks, not even having to fill in the blanks. Her brother instantly steps into his role as protector and savior.
“Don’t worry about anything. I’ll make some phone calls,” Taehyung assures her before grabbing Jimin’s arm and starting back down the walking path.
“I’ll just—” you thumb over your shoulder in the direction Tae and Jimin just disappeared in “—be in my room.”
“Wait,” Hayun calls, pulling your retreat up short. “Come here.” She opens her arms, her hands opening and closing in grabby motions. “Please.”
A sob cracks from your throat as you throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “I’m so sorry, Hayun. I’m so sorry.”
“Hush. None of that. This isn’t anything we could have predicted or stopped from happening. If anything, maybe this is life’s way of getting back at me for what I did to him,” she whispers in your ear. “This is how it’s meant to be.”
Hayun smoothes a hand over your back and releases you. She steps back, using the back of a finger to lift the tears from your cheeks, and gives you a watery smile.
You’re not sure you can speak without completely losing yourself, so you just give her a tight nod and continue back on your way down the path. A part of you wants to hear what she has to say to Jungkook, to be there to soothe any hurts or aches…which is a startling realization that you’d not just tend to Hayun but to Jungkook, too. That internal, visceral part of you yearns to turn on your heel and…protect what’s yours.
It’s an odd revelation to think of Jungkook as yours. Well, yours unless either of you reject the bond. Though, that thought makes your stomach pitch and roil. You have to trail a hand along the wall in the hall leading to your room to keep yourself from curling over your abdomen at just the idea.
Once back in your room, you’re unsure what to do with yourself, so you absently start to gather your belongings and pack them up. Every few minutes, you find yourself pausing to stare at the door, ears pricking at the slightest sound from beyond it.
You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Whether it’s Hayun coming to your room so the two of you can cry together or Jungkook coming to claim y—uh, you shove that thought aside quickly because now is not the time. At. All.
The time for the wedding comes and passes without a single knock on your door nor a text or call on your phone. You’re tempted to go looking. For what, you’re not entirely sure—an answer, maybe, some sort of direction on what you should do now.
Finally, after hours of sitting in silence with just your thoughts for company, a soft knock sounds at your door. The long hem of your dress nearly trips you up in your haste to make it to the door. It swings open, and for some reason, your stomach drops, the flutter of disappointment heavy and unexpected.
“Hey, beautiful,” Taehyung says, his voice soft and full of emotion. “Mind if I come in?” 
His necktie is loose, and the top button of his dress shirt is undone. There is a tension in his eyes that wasn’t there earlier. It makes your chest ache.
“Sure,” you say, stepping back and letting him into your room.
Taehyung sighs, perches on the end of your bed, and props his elbows on his knees. His chin rests on an upturned fist, his other hand dangling between his legs, clutching his phone.
He opens his mouth, a single word the only thing coming out, “So.”
“So,” you parrot.
“Hayun wants me to take her home…alone. I’m not sure what all she and Jungkook talked about, but I think they’re at least amicable in agreeing that it would be best if he gave her a few days at home alone before they start the process of separating their lives.” You’re not sure if the bitter tinge in your chest is hurt because Hayun isn’t the one telling you this or because now you have to find your own way to the airport. As if reading your thoughts, Taehyung continues, “I can be back in two days, maybe sooner, depending on traffic. Perhaps they’ll let you extend your stay. If not, I can talk to Jimin—”
“No, Tae, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of Hayun, make sure she’s okay...as okay as she can be, at least. Fuck.” The last word comes out choked, and you gnash your teeth on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting the angry tears out. You have no right to be angry. Hell, you’re not even sure why you’re angry. It just seems like the easiest emotion to feel right now, the only one that doesn’t leave you feeling like your world is slowly imploding.
“Hey,” Taehyung says, bringing one of his big hands up to cup the side of your face. His thumb prods at the swell of your cheek, causing you to release the tension in your jaw. “Hayun isn’t the only one I’m worried about here.”
“I’m fine—I will be fine,” you amend. “I promise. I think I’m just feeling overwhelmed. I’m mad at myself for ruining Hayun’s big day. I can’t believe this is happening at all. This…this just doesn’t happen. This is the kind of shit you read about in books, it’s not supposed to be real life.”
And there it is, you surmise—the truth of the matter. None of what’s happened makes sense. It honestly belongs on the pages of a book or in a movie script, not in your real life. It still feels surreal. If it weren’t for the subtle, lingering ache you instinctively know is associated with finding your true mate but not allowing yourself to fully accept it, you’d think this was all some elaborate party trick or impractical joke.
Taehyung smiles at you, but the unease in his eyes can’t be masked that easily. “I’m not sure what to say or what to do. You’re right. This isn’t a situation I think anyone was prepared for or ever thought possible, actually. But, here we are…and we have to face it the best way we can.” He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I'll tell you what: I’ll text Jimin—he’s a good guy, I think you’ll enjoy his company—and ask him to meet you in the lounge. Have a few drinks, wind down, and try to relax as best you can.”
“Sure,” you say lamely, trying to muster up at least a little bit of enthusiasm.
“That’s my girl.” Taehyung offers you another smile, this one not so tense. “Here, I have something for you.” He fishes into his pant pocket and produces a familiar thin silver chain, a tiny crescent moon dangling near one end.
The sight has your spine straightening. “Right, of course.” You quickly thumb open the clasp on the bracelet around your wrist, letting it fall from your skin for the first time since you put it on when Hayun gave it to you all those years ago. It never felt right to take it off…not until now.
Taehyung helps you swap the bracelet with the one in his hand. The metal feels cold against your skin and you immediately miss the subtle fragrance of Hayun’s scent clinging to your wrist. Though, you suppose that’s what has gotten you both into this mess to begin with. Taehyung explains in soft words how Jungkook explained to Hayun about the scent mix-up with the bracelets—such a silly, seemingly insignificant thing…the catalyst to spark such a colossal moment.
“I’m going to get on the road with Hayun, but I’ll call you as soon as we get to her place and check in on you, okay?”
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Sitting at the bar with Jungkook’s best friend seemed like a good idea when Taehyung first presented it to you. But, at the time, you weren’t connecting the dots that Jimin was Jungkook’s best friend. He was just Jimin, the guy that just so happened also to be part of the wedding party that you had met in passing briefly, but he seemed like a good enough person. Now, however, you feel all the awkward tension radiating right between your shoulder blades, emphasized by the silence lingering between the two of you.
You traded in your lilac dress for jeans and a light silk blouse, canvas slip-ons in place of your slippers, yet no matter how comfortable you know your clothing is, you can’t shake the prickling discomfort eating away at the back of your neck.
“Want another?” Jimin asks, nodding to your mostly watered-down rum and coke. It’s barely late afternoon, and as much as Taehyung’s suggestion of a drink sounded like just what you needed, you’ve found yourself not in the mood to drink after all.
“Um, nah. I’m okay, thanks.”
“Cool. Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jimin drums his fingers on the tabletop and pops his lips before giving you a slight head nod and pushing up from his chair.
You watch as he saunters to the long bar, his crescent moon tattoo on the nape of his neck peeking out from the top of his collar, and props his elbows onto the shiny top. His smile is flirty and casual as the bartender, a beautiful woman with long, inky tresses and fiery red lipstick, sidles up in front of him.
They’re too far away for you to hear their conversation, but her tinkling laughter carries across the space, and you know it might be a while before Jimin returns to your table.
Which you’re okay with. Considering you know you’re not exactly pleasant company right now, you don’t blame him one bit. You glance down at your phone, once again reading the last text message Hayun sent you not too long ago.
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Eunseo stopped by the lounge around the same time Jimin showed up. If her smile and lingering hug were any indicator, she clearly had a thing for him. She gave you a small wave goodbye before giving Jimin another hug and heading out. Apparently, she was going to follow Taehyung and Hayun back to Hayun and Jungkook’s place to help Hayun with whatever she needed over the next few days.
Does it hurt that your best friend is relying on someone else, her new best friend? Yes. Do you also understand why? Also, yes, but that doesn’t make the sting hurt any less.
You’re just about to give up and retreat back to your room, which the front desk still hasn’t given you a definitive answer about whether or not your stay can be extended while you wait for Tae, when a shadow falls across your table a second before.
“Do you mind if I sit?” Jungkook asks in a low voice.
He fidgets, threading and unthreading his fingers together while he waits for your answer. The suit he had half on earlier is gone, and in its place is a dark pair of jeans, the knees worn fashionably, and an oversized white graphic t-shirt. Black sneakers peek out from the rounded bottoms of his pant legs.
You clear your throat, forcing your eyes away from his and instead on the glass sitting in a puddle of condensation on the table before you. “Oh, I—uh, I was actually about to go. You’re welcome to the table, though. Jimin was—” You cut off, realizing Jimin is no longer in the lounge at all. “Well, he was here,” you add with a frown.
Jungkook scratches a hand across the back of his neck and gives you a hesitant smile. “Yeah, he texted me. He went…well, that doesn’t matter. Could we, um…can we talk?”
“Yes.” The response is out of your mouth before he even finishes asking. “Please, I think I’d like that,” you say, nodding toward the open seat across from you.
A shaky breath rattles from Jungkook as he eases into the empty seat. “Have you talked to Hayun at all?” he asks after a moment’s hesitation.
“A text message, but that’s all. I’m not sure she wants to talk to me right now.” Needing something to do with your hands, you trace a finger along the edge of the water pooled around the bottom of your glass and use your other to poke more drops on the side of your cup, making them race down to join the growing puddle.
Jungkook nods, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “She told me what happened last night. Her confession.” That draws your attention back to him, and you wait, fingers still on the glass, intent on hearing what he says next. “I thought I’d be angrier finding out the woman I’ve been with for years—the woman I was hours away from marrying—had cheated on me…but I’m not. For the life of me, I’m not mad at her…even though I know I should be.”
“How do you feel?”
Maybe it’s none of your business, but you have to ask.
Blowing out a breath, Jungkook slides one of his hands across the table and, giving you plenty of time to protest or pull away, slowly slides his fingers between yours, effectively joining his hand with yours. It’s the first time hand-holding has felt so intimate yet wholly innocent.
“Relieved, I think,” he finally says. “Grateful, maybe? Hayun was hurt. As she has every right to be, but she said she also felt relief, too. I think, as much as she said she loved me, she was still holding back even in the end.” With a rueful shake of his head, he tacks on, “We were just a disaster waiting to happen, held together only by the thin chain of a bracelet. We would have shattered eventually.”
Jungkook’s eyes drop to where your fingers are entwined with his, trailing up to your wrist to land on the object he just spoke of.
“I’m relieved, too,” you whisper. Your eyes meet his as he glances up, and you’re instantly captivated.
This is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to really study Jungkook. His hair is tousled like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. You suppose he probably had been and wonder if that’s one of his nervous ticks.
The bow of his lips is prominent and draws your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his lips, making small mental notes at everything you see, like the tiny beauty mark under his bottom lip. His straight nose leads you to his expressive eyes, so dark and full of secrets you want to be privy to.
To say Jungkook is handsome would be a gross understatement. You’re not sure if it’s the fact he’s your true mate or just simply a gorgeous being, but he is pleasing to the eyes, that’s for sure.
You mentally kick yourself for thinking such thoughts about your best friend’s almost-husband after everything that has just happened. It’s not in good taste to entertain these thoughts so soon, right? True mate or not.
Yet, you can’t shove those thoughts away completely.
“Where did you go just now?” Jungkook asks, tilting his head and studying you intently.
Not wanting to explain yourself and the thoughts you were just having, you choose to ask him a question instead. “So, what now?”
You’re thankful Jungkook doesn’t push you to answer. He shifts in his seat and withdraws his fingers from between yours.
“I think we start with…” he trails off, a playful smile tugging up the side of his mouth as he holds the hand he pulled back in the air in front of you in offering. “Hi, I’m Jungkook.”
For the first time in what feels like forever, you smile. A laugh escapes you, and you instantly feel a thousand times lighter with that simple action.
As you take his hand back into yours, allowing yourself to truly savor the feel of his skin against yours, you realize that no matter what happens with Hayun or the fact that you live thousands of miles apart from Jungkook…everything is going to be okay and maybe you wouldn’t have ignored Taehyung’s text after all.
🥀🥀🥀
Jungkook, 3 months later
The flight was long but worth it. Jungkook stretches as he climbs out of the Uber he took from the airport. You would have picked him up. In fact, you are supposed to pick him up…just, not until next week. He decided to surprise you by coming early. He hopes you don’t mind.
Time seemed to drag to a near stand-still following that fateful day at the bed and breakfast where he was so sure he’d be joining his life with Hayun’s officially. No one could have anticipated what actually went down that day. But, in the end, he and Hayun parted ways on pleasant terms, and it’s actually thanks to her that he’s here right now, a week early.
Jungkook was worried that with everything that happened, yours and Hayun’s friendship might suffer. But, surprisingly—and thankfully—you guys have been getting on great. Hayun has been looking at work prospects in Thailand but, from what you’ve told Jungkook, is planning to visit you and Taehyung for Christmas.
It’s been three months, and not a day has gone by that Jungkook hasn’t talked to you in some capacity. From the moment he offered to be your ride to the airport, and you agreed, he’s thought about nothing other than getting on a plane and following you. The draw to you is just that strong.
You’ve expressed similar feelings, already having planned a return trip to Seoul next month. Neither Jungkook nor you have really talked about what the future holds or how to even begin to navigate it. But Jungkook hopes that during the week he is here, you can both begin to figure that out.
Giddiness makes his tattooed fingers shake as he reaches out and grasps the brass knocker on your door. He gives it a rap against the thick wood and waits. Jungkook counts the breaths as his anticipation rises. It’s only three and a half exhales before he hears the soft pad of your feet on the other side of the door.
Jungkook can imagine you pressing up onto your tip toes in order to peer through the peephole. He’d pay money to be able to see the look on your face when you see it’s him. Not being able to see your face doesn’t take away from the dopamine rush he gets when the sound of your surprised squeal sounds through the door.
“Jungkook!” Your shout is followed by the frantic sound of you disengaging the locks on your door before you swing it open and launch yourself at him. “What the fuck are you doing here? Oh, my gods! Why didn’t you tell me? You’re here!”
It feels good to laugh, but it feels even better to have you in his arms finally. The brief embrace he shared with you at the airport when he dropped you off was not enough and is what drove him to try and come sooner than planned.
Jungkook savors the warmth of your soft body pressed against his, your arms tight around his neck. Running one of his hands up your spine, he clasps the back of your neck and uses his hold there to angle your head away from his neck so he can look you in the face.
“Surprise,” he whispers. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”
You sigh dreamily, your eyes fluttering closed for a second like you’re savoring the feeling of being in his arms. “Pleasant surprise,” you murmur with a smile on your face.
Jungkook can’t help himself. He wants so badly to know if your smile tastes as good as he thinks it will. The press of his lips against yours causes you to melt against him, a throaty sound escaping around the intrusion of his tongue as he works it between your lips.
“Your taste,” he groans, forcing his mouth away from yours before the allure of you can drive him completely mad. Who is he kidding? He’s already there. “I need more.”
🥀🥀🥀
Those words do something to you.
I need more.
They echo the thoughts you’ve been harboring for the last three months. You’ve ached with those words, desperately willing yourself to be patient and let it happen when it’s meant to happen.
But, fuck, it feels so good to have him in your arms, to have his mouth brushing against yours. He tastes divine, a warm sweetness that compliments the musk of his scent that is slowly wrapping itself around you.
“Take me. Take it all,” you urge, completely baring yourself to him, body, mind, and soul. “I’m yours.”
It’s a frenzy, the frantic discarding of clothing. Your fingers work to free him of his jeans while also helping him with the criss-cross straps of your lounging romper. You don’t care that you’re still standing by your front door, bared down to your underwear. The only thing you’re focusing on now is how Jungkook holds you at arm's length and drinks you in from head to toe.
“You…are…everything.” The way he whispers those words crawls under your skin, rooting itself deep in your being. You feel sexy…desired, and unbelievably empty—your body clenches, the ache deep between your thighs. You’ve never been so turned on from just taking your clothes off before, from whispered words and a heated look.
Jungkook allows you to undress him as slow or as fast as you want. You try to take your time and savor every inch of skin you expose. But, you can barely contain yourself when you get to his jeans, shoving them unceremoniously down his thighs with your eyes locked on the many planes and angles of his toned chest and stomach.
Your fingers ghost over his skin, eliciting goosebumps in their wake as you explore the smooth and lush expanse of his shoulders and down his arms. Without needing to say anything more, he gathers you into his arms and covers your mouth with his once more.
It’s a miracle you make it to your bedroom. But, seeing Jungkook sprawled out on your bed is a sight you’ll never forget, with his lowered lids and bottom lip caught between his teeth. You want to taste every inch of him, from the tips of his ears down to the defined muscles of his calves.
Now, though, your gaze focuses on the front of his tented boxer briefs. The dark grey material has darkened even further, where you can see the distinct outline of the head of his cock. Saliva pools in your mouth.
You crawl on the bed, knees slotting between his, your hands on either side of his hips. With your eyes locked on his, you lean down and mouth gently at the wetness. You moan at the flavor of him, your tongue peeking out to seek more.
“Fuck,” you curse. “You taste so good.”
Jungkook lets out a quick breath. “You can’t say shit like that, baby girl. You’re going to make me lose it.” He flicks his eyes up to the ceiling, his lips moving like he’s sending up a silent prayer, before looking back down at you. “You have maybe three seconds before I can’t hold back any longer and tear that ass up.”
You chuckle softly, pouting out your lips in a faux sullen manner. “Yes, sir.”
That earns a growl from Jungkook that has heat racing down your spine as you hook your fingers into the band of his Calvin Klein’s and pull them down. He lifts his hips, helping you free him from their confines.
His cock stands so pretty before you, the full heft bobbing against his belly, smearing a pearl of precum against his golden skin. You dive in, licking at the sticky mess before taking the tip between your lips and lavishing your tongue over his slit.
Jungkook fists the sheets, a litany of curses falling from his lips. “Please,” he chokes.
You keep your eyes locked on his as you inch your way down his length, your jaw forcing itself wider to accommodate as much of him as you can. The blunt head of his cock presses against the back of your throat. You take a steadying breath in through your nose before forcing yourself a little further until your throat constricts around him and you have to pull back.
The second your mouth leaves his cock, saliva stringing from your lips to his tip, Jungkook grabs you and hauls you up over him. You laugh, loving the heat emanating from his body as yours covers his.
“What are you doing?” you gasp.
His strong hands land on your hips and tangle in the band of your panties. “I need these off. Please. I need you. I want to feel you…be inside you.”
You want that, too, you realize, your body already primed and begging for it. The sweet, fragrant notes of your arousal saturate the air, mixing with Jungkook’s to paint a picture of hedonism and wanton desires.
The rest of your clothes come off, your bra and panties are tossed to the side, leaving you utterly bare to him. Your inner thighs slide like velvet over his hips as you move your body against his until you can feel the press of the head of his cock against your entrance.
You wrap a hand around his base, angling him perfectly. It’s a slow descent into madness, the lowering of your body onto his. His eyes bore into yours, pouring out everything that has been building to this moment, this pinnacle that will forever throttle you onto a different path for your future—with him. You can feel every perfect inch slide along your walls as they adjust and welcome him. It’s like sliding home; he is the perfect fit for your body, filling you completely.
The pace you set, at first, is languid. An easy rise and fall of your hips as you both learn the body of the other. Jungkook’s hands mold around your breasts, his thumbs caressing over the pert points of your nipples.
“You feel so good,” you tell him, emphasizing your words with a generous roll of your hips. “So much better than I imagined.”
“You imagined it often?” he asks, a teasing tone to his words.
With the amount of teasing photos and videos you’ve shared with each other over the last few weeks, he knows you have. You can tell he’s just giving you a hard time. That’s fine, because you can…
Jungkook throws his head back as you arch yours, letting his cock hit that special place inside that has you both seeing stars. “Fuck!” His hands drop to your hips, landing with a satisfying smack. His grip tightens, dimpling the supple flesh around his fingers. “Can I knot you?” he asks with a breathless moan. You’ve never taken an alpha’s knot. The idea has your body pulsing around his, flooding slick onto his pelvis as you continue to roll your hips. “Fuck, baby girl, do you like that idea? You want to take my knot like a good girl?”
You can’t even form a coherent thought, much less answer him. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a panting keen, your chin jerking up and down as you frantically nod your want.
Jungkook braces his feet against the mattress and uses his grip on your hips as leverage to thrust upward, sending you forward onto your hands. He’s relentless, pounding into you from below to the point your eyes roll back, and you have to squeeze them shut. Tiny pinpricks of light burst behind your lids as your body coils tighter than ever before.
You cry out as he sends you over the edge, your body careening into an unfathomable abyss of pleasure. The sounds coming from around his cock as it pounds into you are slick and obscene, debauched yet wholly satisfying. 
“Alpha, need your knot,” you mewl, your lips finding the triskelion tattoo over Jungkook’s left pec muscle. You nibble at it, your teeth sinking softly into the skin.
“Oh, baby, fuck…fuck…Fuuuckkk!” Jungkook shouts, the sound turning into a guttural snarl as his body goes primal.
He seats himself completely inside of you with one final, deliberate thrust, and then you can feel the swell of his knot capture within you. It hurts, your pleasure turning into a moment of pain and panic. You squirm, trying to lift your hips from his, but the clasp of his hands on your body won’t let you go far. You whine, “J-Jungkook.”
“I know, baby girl, I know. Relax. Let your body do what it needs to do.”
It’s like those words unlock some inner Omega part of your brain, and suddenly you feel your body rush with endorphins and dopamine as it accepts the thick jets of his cum now flooding in. Like administering a drug, it’s such a fast transition that you feel lightheaded and giddy, sheepish and almost silly over your moment of panic.
“Gods, that feels so…good.” You wiggle in his arms, gasping as his knot pulls tight. You want more, need more of that feeling…need more of his cum. “More, Alpha, please.”
Jungkook pants, a tired smile on his face. You can feel it when his cock pulses inside you, dribbling even more liquid heat into your body in answer to your plea. “That’s my pretty girl,” Jungkook coos, brushing a hand across your forehead. “You’re so beautiful taking my knot, full of my cum.” He curses softly, reverently, and another gush of heat fills your body. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I swear it.”
You fall into a half-sleep, content and sated as you are. There are no worries about the future, nor the past. You are happy…all thanks to a pair of golden cufflinks.
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◅ Back to Main Master List ©️   2024-11-05 ColorMePurplex2
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adelheidvonschicksal · 8 months ago
Note
Don't you agree we need more A/B/O for love and deep space?
Omegaverse Scenarios with the Boys
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Content warning: Omegaverse, jealousy, marking, scenting, fluff, mild sexual content, no pronouns, MORE ABO! MORE ABO!
Original Post
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“You’re back.”
You whip your head around to see Xavier standing at the balcony door, looking serene as ever in the mid-morning light. The soft look the sunlight gives him brings a smile to your face. However, it quickly strains and breaks, collapsing into a frown as Xavier steps out onto the deck. There’s nothing scary about his demeanor; he seems calm as usual but there’s a subtle tension in the air that fogs heavy from him.
Wordlessly, Xavier scans you up and down, focusing on…something. You’re not sure what he’s searching for, but you suspect he’s found it when his forehead creases and his voice drops.
“Did you visit Philos while you were out?"
"How'd you guess?"
"You smell like Jeremiah,” Xavier concludes coldly, which causes you to hold on tighter to the little packet of plant food clutched between your hands. “What were the two of you doing?” he follows up; this time he fixes his face and flashes you that sweet smile.
You’re smart enough to not be fooled by the innocent expression he puts on whenever he tries to pry information out of you. However, you have nothing to hide and answer honestly.
“My friend has been sick, so I wanted to send her some flowers.”
“Is that all?”
"I also got plant food for the strawberries," you add, flashing the green packet of nutrients. 
"That's not what I meant."
Your suspicion tipped off, you raise your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Xavier closes in on you, each step making your heart pound as he boxes you in between himself and one of the large ceramic pots homing the strawberry plant. Raising your hands to your chest, your knuckles brush against the tassels of his hoodie as you try to make some space between the two of you. It's clear you have no room to run, and a part of you isn't sure you want to escape.
Xavier reaches out to you; his hand sweeps under the collar of your black turtleneck, sending jolts through your body when his fingertips hit the sore bruise in the soft junction of your neck. The way he immediately finds that tender target reminds you of the way he hunts down wanderers with precision, persistence, and unfortunately, pinpoint accuracy. Despite the severe shivers being coerced in your soul, it doesn’t frighten you as he traces around your scent gland.
“You’re practically shaking,” he mumbles, gripping the neck of your shirt and giving a gentle tug, exposing your bond mark. “Are you cold?”
“No," you answer immediately, watching his snooping hand from your periphery, "and don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not,” he says with a shake of his head as he continues to fumble with your clothing. “I was just wondering why you were so covered up.”
“There’s no reason,” you breathe out, distracted by the fierce concentration reflecting from dark pools of blue so different from the soft glimpses and angelic gazes he normally shares with you. They strike you so deeply, peering through you so sharply that memories from how the mark was made begin to flash through your mind, fumbling any other excuses you might have said.
“None at all?” he comments, making your face warm. “If the mark hurts, it’s nothing a hot bath won’t fix.”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“Then, why are you covering it up?” he asks; this game of cat and mouse quickly unravels when he brings up, “Did you not want Jeremiah to see it?”
“That’s not it,” you deny with a sigh, pushing his hand away.
You never understand how Xavier can be so jealous. Jeremiah is a friend to both of you; he has been for centuries from your understanding. Even if there was some point in those decades that Jeremiah possibly had feelings for you stronger than friendship, you didn’t hold those same feelings for him. You only desired to be bonded with one person, the one standing in front of you. Even when he was being a needlessly jealous dummy.
“It has nothing to do with him.”
“Do you not like the way it looks?” He questions instead, his demeanor softening only slightly with regret. With a slight blush, Xavier pouts and rubs the back of his neck. “I admit I was a little out of it when I did it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it! It’s pretty,” you finally yell, which causes him to clamp his mouth shut enough for you to explain better. “This is the first time anyone made a bond mark on me, and it’s a little embarrassing cause then everyone knows, we’re um…” you start to lose your concentration when he looms over you. You take a sudden step back, stopping only when the pot behind you threatens to fall over when you bump it. “Doing things…together.”
Chest aching, you hope your explanation is satisfactory. You never want to make him insecure but the idea of people knowing intimate details of your love life makes you sheepish.
“So, you don’t want him to know.”
“Xavier, did you not listen to what I said?”
“I did but isn’t what you said still a roundabout way of saying you’re hiding it?” He teases with a small laugh. There’s a pleased curve in the smile on his face and a shimmering light like stardust in his eyes; unbeknownst to you, that’s from knowing he’s the first and only one to ever mark you. How proud he would be if everyone was aware of that fact. “You don’t have to be embarrassed by something so natural. Everyone, especially him, should know you’re mine and I’m yours.” 
You open your mouth to protest but you’re interrupted by him grabbing your wrist in one hand to prevent you from squirming away as he hooks a finger into your turtleneck. Pulling your collar, he presses an open-mouth kiss to your bond mark then higher up to nip the soft flesh under your earlobe, higher until he's breathing into your ear. 
"I'll fix it," he murmurs and kisses your neck again and again until all you can make sense of is the heat blooming along your throat with each touch of his lips. 
His kisses lack his normal gentleness; they’re filled instead with a desire that makes your knees shake and buckle. You’d fallen if he hadn’t held you closer, squeezed you to him like letting go would be the end of him, as if he finds joy in feeling the aftershocks of your fluttering heart against your ribcage.
“Xavier, what are you-you-ah."
You desperately hold in the moan that builds up in your chest as he continues to bite into your skin and the sound of his kisses fills your ear smooch by smooch. Xavier chuckles against your flesh.
“Relax. I’m not going to do anything bad to you. I’m simply making a few minor adjustments to your  first  mark." He hums, tongue sliding along your neck to mark its target. “I think this is a good spot,” he whispers before sinking his teeth into your pulse.
It burns in a searingly blinding way, and your eyes roll up when he sucks onto your bite-broken skin. He doesn't stop until he manages to ring out a strangled moan from your throat. He cements his work with another swipe of his tongue then pulls away to admire it.
He paints that innocent smile back on his face as he locks his eyes with yours. His voice is light and airy like a weight is off his shoulders when the fresh mark peeks from your turtleneck. "This time I gave you a mark you can’t hide."
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It’s another day at the arcade and another day Zayne watches you spend an exorbitant amount of money winning a plushie you could’ve easily ordered cheaper online. The Tinkle Toy you win this time is cuter than the normal fare at least. It’s a bright candy streamer rainbow, with smiling pink cotton candy clouds.
“I did it!” you cheer and hold out your prize to him in search of his approval. He congratulates you on your well-earned victory. With a smiling face, you push the toy closer to him rather than hug it to your chest in your normal possessive manner.
“What is it?”
You wave the toy back and forth. “You know.”
“I’m afraid I don’t.”
In truth, Zayne knows exactly what you want, and it makes his neck hot under the collar. He presses his pointer finger to the bridge of his glasses and pushes them further up his nose as an excuse to avoid your slowly narrowing gaze. Your previously cheerful smile flattens into a stern line and your tone becomes more demanding.
“Zayne,” you repeat ominously, like a parent scolding their child for not finishing their chores. Somehow, it always works to earn his attention, and he briefly glances over the toy again; it looks much less cute this time, the carefully stitched smiles now a mocking grin.
Zayne examines his surroundings: the kids running around the overly decorated and gaudy arcade, the bored and drowsy-eyed employees behind the gift counter, the many older siblings and parents trying to win tickets for the little ones, and, well, you, glaring him down. That look tells him you’re not going to be willing to let this go despite how crowded the arcade has become in your short time here.
“You want me to scent your toy for you?” he questions, adding for emphasis, “Right here?”
“Rainbow Candy can’t join the other plushies in the nest without being christened by the leader.” Poking out your lip, you give him the biggest puppy eyes you can muster. It doesn’t move him enough to give in, not until your eyes start to gloss like stained glass and you softly plead, “Please, Dr. Zayne.”
Ice quickly breaks and chips in the mildest bit of sunlight, dissolving into warm puddles, and it’s just like that when Zayne finally breaks and melts at the smallest insistence from you. Grabbing the toy, Zayne quickly shoves it against his throat, ignoring how plush the toy feels against the underside of his chin. He trails it up and down the column of his neck, swiping it one final time under his chin. It’s a simple motion, done quickly and precisely to efficiently cover the toy in his scent in the least amount of time possible, yet it still feels so inappropriate to do here under your watchful, yearning gaze threatening to make his body stiff.
As he feels his limit about to be broken, he hands the rainbow back to your waiting arms.
“Is this satisfactory?”
You squeeze onto the toy as if someone could snatch it away. You press your face against it, smelling deeply, and when you look up at him from under your brow it’s with the sweetest smile he thinks he’s ever witnessed.
“Your best work yet, Dr. Zayne. Good job!” you giggle, and he has half a mind to pinch your cheek and wipe that childish grin off your face. “Now, I’ll have something to remember you by while you’re at work today.”
“Is that why you demand I scent all your toys?” he asks, and you nod slowly.
“You’re always so busy that I hardly get to see you outside of the hospital, so when I get lonely I just cuddle with these guys,” you confess. You press your nose deeper into one of the garishly pink cotton candy clouds; this time when your eyes waver like watery skies, it isn’t to sway him. “When the teddies smell like you, it’s like I’m holding a piece of you too.”
Those words connect everything that has ever happened between the two of you together, stringing the moments like a red line of fate. Despite the words  I love you  never leaving your lips, it excites the same effect that can make a sane man an idiot, an effect not even Zayne is immune to when you so innocently and freely express your feelings to him.
It’s a skill he struggles with; though for you and your happiness, he’s willing to give in and let loose the restrained mask he wears on his face as he listens to the one person he’s longed for all this time admit that they get lonely without him beside them.
“I think scenting you before my shift would be more comforting,” he offers; the adoration glowing in your irises makes him weak enough to stroke your forehead with the back of his hand. There’s a little whimper muffled into your plushie while your forehead feels hot to touch before your face falls into shock and your eyes dart around the room, like his before. As sweet and innocent as you can be, you can also be very easy to read. “You’re thinking inappropriately.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Not here.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
Zayne gently pokes your forehead to clear your head of the improper thoughts running through it causing you to whine and rub the spot, which only reminds him how you’re much, much cuter than any plushie. 
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You hold in a giggle as Rafayel shoves his face against the crook of your neck. Since you came over to his studio, he hasn’t been able to tear himself away from you, which left you sitting on the couch, covered in little splotches of dried paint, trying to discern why he feels the need to drag his hands down your arm and audibly sniff your hair.
His breath is heavy and ragged as he sucks in a breath, or rather your scent, and continues to trace up your skin until his finger can finally sink into the collar of your button-up. “Did you do something different today? New lotion? Bath Soap?” 
“I did what I normally do every day.”
Rafayel groans against your skin again. You haven’t seen him hot and bothered, face soaked and flushing red with fever, since his last ebb day, which already happened earlier this year.
“Are you sure?” His lips on your skin feel so familiar that your body is immediately on edge and reacting to every stuttered exhale he makes whenever your leg so much as brushes against him. He sinks closer to you, removing any space in between your bodies. “You smell delectable.”
“Rafayel?”
“I just want a taste.”
“Rafayel, are you rutting?”
“No, I’m not,” he groans, laps your shoulder without any care for the fabric covering it, then pricks his canines against vulnerable, pulsing skin. You can tell he’s about to lose it when he pops the first button on your shirt, not even paying attention to the way his nails draw across your upper chest. “I’m just…admiring you…there’s nothing wrong with that.” 
There’s a whimper melting from his mouth when you press your hand to his chest and push away. Your confidence is quickly rising thanks to the pitiful expression on his face, highlighted by parted, puffy lips and wide violet-pink eyes fogged with hazy lustful clouds.
“I charge by the hour for appearances.”
Rafayel huffs lightly in response. Something about him is different today; something that your experience tells you is due to the rut he fails to explain away. He misses the usual flare he has, the coy seduction that he uses to draw you in. He trades it for brute force, spurred by the mind-numbing need to have this fire in him quenched inside of you as he grips your wrist and forces you closer to him.
“Just send any charges directly to the studio,” he pants out in desperation between sporadic breaths. His voice hitches, forming a short gasp when you grip his chin and focus his sights back on you. He follows so readily at any touch you offer him no matter how rough. Your mind was becoming fuzzy with how much power you have when he’s like this.
“I only take payments in kisses, but I’ll be sure to let Thomas know.”
There’s a moment where his eyes narrow, perhaps in frustration, before they drop and lock on your mouth; specifically, he's memorized by the motion of your tongue glancing across your lips. Rafayel is only consumed with thoughts of how gravely he wants to be the one wetting them despite doing so hundreds of times before. His body wildly craves yours like the months before he was graced with a taste of you, or maybe this yearning is because he knows exactly how it feels to be touched by you as you are now. Rafayel isn't sure which it is anymore, the lines fade and blur, becoming harder to trace by the second. It hurts being this vulnerable, his body uncontrolled by himself, but if you’re his mate then there isn’t anything to fear, at least not this time.
“On second thought, I really should settle my own debts.”
“Are you sure you can afford it?”
“I’ll gladly pay you with interest, darling,” he barely manages to force out in his last single coherent thought. “Now, let me taste you already.”
Rafayel leans closer, aiming for your lips, but is stopped by your nail dragging up the center of his neck, unhindered by the thick gulp he takes to stop his heart from jumping into his throat. You creep your finger up his chin, stopping at the point to force his head up and eyes to lock with yours. The smile on your face is torturous, the look in your eyes out to kill as your lips purse and part to form one simple word,
“Beg.”
The arrogant smirk on your face says you know he will; Rafayel knows he will; anything for a small taste to quench this thirst built in him since eternity for you, but he also knows he’ll have you in his trap instead very soon.
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1K notes · View notes
marauroon · 3 months ago
Note
Hellooo! Marauders are taking over my heart my body and my life as well so could I maybe request a fic with James (or poly!marauders whatever you like) with a reader who is avoidant of relationships so once they realize they are loved they try to run away but James wont let her go and patiently convinces her to give them a chance? Thank you so much!
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S E L F - S A B O T A G E — POLY MARAUDERS!
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poly!marauders x fem!reader | h/c | 4.0k | masterlist!!
the marauders had thrown their hearts at you like it was effortless. and you just couldn’t return the gesture.
cw— relationship avoidant reader, mild miscommunication, mini argument, reader gets anxious and overwhelmed
a/n— thanks for the request ml, this one may require a part two <3
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When exactly did it start? All four of you could give a different answer.
Sirius wagers it was the first potions class of fifth year, where you’d been unceremoniously wedged in between him and James as a part of a stupid boy-girl seating plan to stop ‘distractions’.
It didn’t work evidently, and James had managed to talk your ear off almost every lesson since, a familiar glint in his eye that Sirius knew all too well.
Remus would say it was closer to the end of that same year, when they’d somehow managed to invade your table in the library to study for their OWLs and Sirius had managed to get distracted—and distract you—within ten minutes of sitting down, spending almost a whole hour talking at you before Remus had to step in to make sure you both got an ample amount of revision done.
James would probably argue it was the first time the three actually spoke to you, finalised in the way that Remus looked at you as you slid a healing balm across the desk for his increasingly scarred hands with only a mutter that they “looked like they hurt,”.
And you? Well…
You’re not exactly sure.
It was so gradual yet so sudden and now you’re walking down the hallways with three borderline guard dogs at your tail like they’ve collectively decided you were a part of their pack.
And you weren’t sure how you felt about it.
It was endearing to a point, a genuine, unconditional affection shared between the three boys and spread onto you with no request for yours in return, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel almost suffocating.
You were almost constantly in the presence of at least one of the boys, languidly smothering you in unbridled affection like it was second nature to them.
Whether it was Remus slipping you notes for classes you weren’t paying attention in, Sirius insisting on carrying your bag down the hallways, or James sneaking compliments into every sentence he spoke to you, the casual fondness they showed you was never-ending.
And if you were being honest, it was beginning to be a bit too much.
“Here, love,” James passes you a pitcher over Sirius’ breakfast. “You’ll dry out your throat, we need that pretty voice in tact ready for the match later,”
You take the pitcher from him with a raised eyebrow, hoping your fluster isn’t too apparent in your tone. “the… match?”
“The Quidditch match doll,” Sirius takes it upon himself to pour your drink for you, taking the pitcher from your hands like you’ll shatter if he’s not careful enough. “We’re versing Slytherin, it’ll be a sight for sure,”
Oh.
Right.
“Damn right, I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces when we take the cup for the fifth year in a row,” James hits Sirius’ arm lightly in his enthusiasm, stealing a slice of toast from his plate. “You are coming right?” James blinks at you slowly, honey-brown eyes big and round, like he’s silently trying to hypnotise you into agreeing with him.
“I- yeah,” You give him a half-stunted nod, letting your words speak before you can make up your mind and ultimately pull out of it. “yeah…”
“Excellent,” James clasps his hands together with a satisfied nod. “I’ll dig out a spare jersey for you,”
“Who said she was wearing your name?” Sirius turns to him with a raised eyebrow, and it starts a lighthearted debate that you quickly tune out in favour of the dull ringing in your ears.
The way they were talking made everything sound so final, so… concrete. Like you’d just completely melded into their routine through no input of your own.
“You don’t have to,” There’s a soft nudge against your left side, joined by what’s almost a whisper from Remus. “I don’t go to all of them,”
He’s giving you an out. Or at least trying to. You know that if you suddenly pull out of wanting to go that James and Sirius’d be disappointed, even if they pretend that they’re not.
“It’s alright..” You shake your head with a small smile, attempting to reassure both Remus—and yourself—that you really do want to watch the boys play.
James wins his and Sirius’ debate apparently, and a few hours before the match is due to start he hands you a folded up Quidditch jersey with a smile etched onto his face.
“Here you are m’love, look forward to seeing you in it later,” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, winking as he pulls away. “Gotta run for some last minute practice, wish me luck,”
“Good luck…” your hands curl in around the jumper almost instinctually as you stand stationary watching James run out of the common room waving in your direction, and once he’s out of sight your eyes drop to the clothing in your arms.
You hold it up to let it unfold, signature red and gold stripes adorning the fabric and a large embroidered ‘POTTER’ covering the back where it’d meet your shoulder blades.
Well, James’ shoulder blades. It would probably cover most of your upper back.
You spend the next hour staring at it in your dorm room, left draped over the end of your bed as you internally fought with yourself over whether you should actually put it on.
It was taunting you the way the gold embroidery thread caught the overheard lighting, forcing your focus towards the surname like an ultimatum.
If you put on that jumper, you were committing yourself to whatever you’d been thrust into.
And the thought made you almost physically nauseous.
It was like the boys had handed you their hearts on a silver platter, expecting you to shield them inside your ribcage, nestled against your own until they stop beating.
Like they were giving themselves to you wholely, nothing left behind until it was piled up so high that you couldn’t dig yourself out of the iron hold they’d captured you in no matter how much you tried, slowly asphyxiating yourself under the ever constricting grasp of the cage they’d trapped you in until you turned blue.
It terrified you.
You didn’t go to the Quidditch game.
God knows if you did it would end in nothing less than tears, if not you literally collapsing from hyperventilating at the first sight of any of the three of them.
Instead, you burrowed yourself underneath your satin sheets to seek a dull solace, no comfort found in the way you curled in on yourself, but no growing anxiety either.
You knew you’d have to leave it eventually, face the three boys and force out an excuse whilst desperately hoping they didn’t see just how horrifically anxious they made you.
It was horrible really, they’d done nothing but extend their kindest hands to you, treat you like you painted the stars in the sky and gifted them the oxygen they breathed.
And here you were, dreading the thought of so much as glancing at their blissfully oblivious faces.
“Sweetheart,” Marlene enters the dorm almost cautiously as she edges the door open, still clad in her full quidditch gear, sweat glistening against her forehead. “The boys are outside for you,”
“I’m not here,” You muffle your words into your duvet as you pull it up and over your head, and you can’t faintly hear Marlene sigh as she treads over and pulls you from your cocoon of self pity through dragging the quilt out of your hands.
She raises her eyebrow down at you questioning it, but you can see the concern swirling in her irises.
“Just tell them I’m asleep?” You furrow your eyebrows in silent pleading, echoed through your words as you exhale heavily. “Please?”
Shes clearly not very happy with your request, but she bites her tongue and gives you a small nod anyway, brushing stray hairs from your forehead with a sigh. “Whatever this is about, you should talk to them,”
“Yes mum,” You roll your eyes with a feigned sigh of indignation, pulling the duvet back up underneath your chin.
As she turns to leave, expression a mix of exasperation and amusement, you catch the jersey draped against your bed-post in the corner of your eye.
“Marls,” You point to it almost pathetically. “I really don’t want to face them right now,”
She practically snatches the jumper from the end of your bed with an almost scolding expression, and you flash her a guilty but grateful smile.
“I love you,”
“My love for you is dwindling,” She throws the jumper over her arm with an over-dramatised exhale, but she shoots you a flying kiss across the room nonetheless, and it leaves you with a small smile as the door clicks shut.
Although it doesn’t last very long.
You’d given her the jumper to return for you because you didn’t even want to consider what James’ face would look like when he got it back.
But of course your mind pictured it anyway.
The way his hazel eyes would pool first in disappointment before slowly turning to worry, a small, almost imperceptible frown pulling at the corners of his lips and his eyebrows furrowed just enough that it caused a line to form above the bridge of his nose.
You honestly didn’t know if you seeing it in real life or the picture your brain had unceremoniously forced onto you was worse, but what you did know was that you could not face him now.
The minute that boy saw you—any of them really—you knew that the impending conversation that followed was going to be one you didn’t want to have.
You jinxed yourself pretty hard with that prediction.
You’d managed to avoid the three at breakfast the next morning to no credit of your own, slept in so late after running your mind into the ground the night before you’d basically missed the whole thing, but you didn’t even make it down the hallway towards your first lesson before a pair of running feet crescendo’d in your direction.
“Hey—”
Shit.
“Sirius, morning,” You stop dead in the middle of the hallway, most definitely to the begrudgement of the rest of the students trying to get to class; And whilst you regret it almost immediately, Sirius doesn’t have a care in the world for diverting the foot traffic, concern written in the way his eyebrows knit together as his attention stays devoted to you.
“Are you okay? You didn’t make it to the match yesterday, we were worried about you,” His tone conveys less disappointment that you didn’t go and more genuine concern that something might’ve happened or gone wrong.
“Yeah, sorry,” You reply half awkwardly, fiddling absentmindedly with the cuffs of your sleeves. “I’m alright though,” You echo the end of your sentence with a nod, lips pressed together in a line, a mimicry of a smile.
“You’re sure?” He reaches out his hand to press the back of it against your forehead. “Because if you’re ill Moony’s got a bunch of stuff from Madame Pomfrey, I’m sure something’ll—”
“I’m fine, Sirius,” You don’t let him finish his sentence before you’re gently pulling his hand away from your face and back down to his side. “You really don’t have to worry, I just fell asleep,”
“Alright,” He most definitely picks up on the traces of defensiveness in your tone as he takes a step backwards to give you a little more personal space, and you’d have half the mind to feel guilty if you weren’t so constantly overwhelmed by him and the others.
“I’ll uh,” He presses his lips together half-awkwardly. “Let you get to class then,”
“Don’t you have potions?” It’s genuine curiosity, edged with a small amount of concern that Sirius’ll be late for his own class now that he’s followed you half way to yours. On the opposite side of the castle.
“Yeah, but I wanted to make sure you were okay first,” Sirius gives you a small smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Let me walk you?”
You shake your head slowly, gently pushing on his shoulder. “Go to your own class, Sirius,”
He lingers for a moment before turning to head back in the direction he came from, leaving you with a mix of relief and lingering guilt.
__
Your day is largely uneventful until lunch, the smell of parchment still lingering in your nose as you wander out towards the courtyard instead of joining your friends in the great hall.
You knew they’d be there. Of course they’d be there.
And after this morning with Sirius, which he’d definitely told the other two about, you were finding yourself wanting to be in their presence even less.
So you take your lunch to the courtyard instead, settling on a bench farthest from the entrance to avoid any potential encounter. The peace is short-lived, however, as you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching.
“Thought you might be out here,” James' voice is gentle, his expression a mix of concern and relief as he takes a seat next to you.
You tense up, trying to muster a smile but failing. “Hey, James.”
“Hey,” he echoes, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. “You missed breakfast this morning.”
“Yeah, I—“ You search for an excuse, but nothing comes to mind. “I wasn't really hungry.”
James nods slowly, as if he's trying to decode the underlying meaning behind your words. “Is everything alright? You seemed a bit off yesterday.”
You take a deep breath, feeling the anxiety bubble up in your chest. “I'm fine, really. Just needed some time to myself.”
“Time to yourself?” James repeats, his tone soft but probing. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”
You wanted to curse James Potter sometimes.
How could he be so confident in himself that he could throw his heart at you with no fear of it shattering in your palms?
How could he be so sweet yet so painfully ignorant?
“If this is about you missing the quidditch match yesterday, Sirius and I aren’t—”
“It’s not about the quidditch match James,” You cut him off with a sigh. “Or— It is, but it’s not just about that—”
You stand to release yourself from James’ proximity.
“James, it's everything.” you finally admit, unable to hold back any longer. “I cant so much as breathe without one of you attached to my hip and I can’t do it anymore—”
James' face falls, the concern in his eyes deepening. “We're just trying to show you we care, but if it's too much, we can give you space.”
“It's not just space,” you say, your voice trembling. “It's... even thinking about you three is suffocating me...”
James's face contorts in confusion and a touch of hurt, but he quickly masks it with a forced understanding. "I... didn't realize it was that bad," he says quietly, his usual confident demeanor faltering for the first time in your memory.
You swallow hard, guilt gnawing at your insides, but you can’t take back what you’ve said. You don’t want to. It’s been building inside you for too long—the overwhelming presence of James, Sirius, and Remus in your life. They were everywhere, all the time, and while their company had almost become a comfort, it quickly spiralled into a cage.
“I’m sorry, James. I know you all mean well, but it’s just… too much,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, though the motion seems more for his benefit than yours, as if he’s trying to force himself to understand. “I get it,” he says, though you can tell he really doesn’t. “I guess I never thought about how it might feel from your side. We just… we wanted to make sure you really felt like one of us,”
The way he says "one of us" stings, a reminder of how you were a part of their tight-knit group—no, how they had made you a part of it, pulling you in whether you liked it or not.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You hadn’t really been given a choice. You had been absorbed into their world, expected to fit perfectly into the space they had carved out for you, without ever considering whether you wanted to be there in the first place.
“I know you didn’t mean any harm,” you say, trying to soften the blow. “But I need to figure out how I feel without… without you all hovering over me all the time.”
James winces at that, and you can see the pain in his eyes. “We never meant to make you feel like that,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought… We— thought, you… We were trying to prove how much we care…”
The tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over, but you blink them away. “I don’t need you to prove anything, James. I need to breathe.”
He looks down at his hands, clasped tightly together in his lap. “If that’s what you need, then we’ll give it to you,” he says finally, though his voice is tinged with reluctance. “We can give you space, we can— leave you alone if that’s what you need. We can wait until you’re ready.”
“What if I’m never ready?”
James doesn’t really know how to respond to that.
“I— Why wouldn’t you ever be ready..?”
“I don’t know if I can do this, James,” It hurts, coming out of your mouth, echoing back into your ears. But it’s true.
“I— I know being with three people at once can be overwhelming but—”
“It’s not that James,” You shake your head with an almost imperceptible sigh. “I don’t think I’d even be able to date one of you without being overwhelmed,”
James’s eyes widen in surprise, his expression shifting from hurt to confusion. “Are you saying... you don’t want to be with any of us?”
The question hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and regrets. You glance away, struggling to find the right words to convey the complexity of your feelings.
“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you,” you say slowly, trying to articulate the intricate emotions swirling inside you. “But I can’t… give myself to you, I can’t— hand you three my heart on a silver platter like you did to me. I just can’t.”
James's expression shifts from confusion to a mixture of frustration and sadness. He clearly hadn’t expected this level of honesty.
“I get that you’re overwhelmed,” he says, his voice quiet but determined. “But can you give us a chance to show you that we can handle it? That we can adjust and give you what you need without pushing too hard?”
You meet his gaze, seeing the earnestness and vulnerability in his eyes. It’s clear he’s invested in making this work, not just for himself but for all three of them. You can see him struggling to reconcile his own desires with your need for space and clarity.
“It’s not just about trying, James,” you reply, feeling the weight of your words. “It’s about whether or not I’m ready to be a part of this—whatever this is. And right now, I don’t even know what I want, let alone if I can handle being part of something with all three of you.”
James nods, absorbing your words. “I understand that you need time. But maybe instead of pushing you away entirely, we could find a middle ground. We could— take things slower, give you room to breathe while still being here for you in a less overwhelming way. If you don’t want us all together then… maybe it’s just one of us you’d be open to starting with? Even if it’s just as friends—”
Your heart softens a bit at his suggestion. The idea of easing into something less intense seems more manageable, though it still doesn’t completely resolve your concerns.
“You can get to know us properly— as people, and let us show you why we care about you.” There’s a hint of desperation in his tone, one that’s mirrored in his irises, swirling in his gaze amidst the sunlight reflecting off of his pupils. “Just… give us a chance,”
You take in James’s earnest plea, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. The desperation and hope in his gaze pull at something within you, a flicker of longing for a connection that feels genuine and real, even amidst the confusion and overwhelming anxiety.
“I... I can try,” you say slowly, the words feeling both heavy and hopeful as they leave your lips. “I can try to get to know you better, as individuals, and see where it goes. But I need you to understand that this isn’t going to be easy, and it might take longer than any of us expect.”
James’s face lights up with a mixture of relief and gratitude. “That’s all I’m asking for,” he says, a small but genuine smile forming on his lips. “We’ll take it slow, no pressure. Just... let us show you that we can be what you need, one step at a time.”
You nod, feeling a tentative sense of hope as you look at him. “Alright. We’ll start with that. But if at any point it becomes too much, I need you to promise me that you’ll respect that.”
James’s smile widens, his eyes reflecting a mix of joy and determination. “I promise. We’ll be patient and understanding. And if you need space, we’ll give it to you. Just... let us try and convince you...”
There’s a moment of silence between you, the tension easing slightly as you both come to a mutual understanding. The path forward is still uncertain, but the willingness to try and the promise of patience create a small but significant shift in the dynamic between you.
You give him a soft nod. “Thank you, James,” you breathe out shortly, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders.
James gives you a warm, encouraging nod. “Anytime. We care about you, and we want you to be happy. Just remember, we’re here for you.”
And so, the next chapter of your ‘relationship’ began. Starting in a place that preceded even the beginning.
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clangrogu · 1 month ago
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House of the Dragon x Reader Fic Recs
*Note: Some of these are OOC/fanon depictions of HOTD characters*
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Hightower Girl by @daemonsversion (Daemon Targaryen x Reader, F!Reader, Hightower!Reader, NSFW, Smut)
Cuddle Up, Baby by @the-dendrophile-bookdragon (Daemon Targaryen x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Reader’s House isn’t specified but she does speak some Valyrian)
A Lemon Cake by @two-white-butterflies (F!Reader, SFW, Reader belongs to a named House, Use of a love potion)
Blue Moon Wreckage by @queers-gambit (F!Reader, SFW, Husband!Daemon x Wife!Reader, Angst, Arguing, Yelling, Daemon is a dick at first)
Alpha!Daemon Targaryen Meets His Omega by @klaus-littlestwolf (Daemon Targaryen x Reader, F!Reader, Slightly NSFW, A/B/O Dynamics, Omega!Reader, Alpha!Daemon, Sex references, Mild violence, Consensual groping, Otto Hightower being a creep)
Alpha!Aemond Targaryen Meets His Omega by @klaus-littlestwolf (Aemond Targaryen x Reader, F!Reader, NSFW, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Aemond, Omega!Reader, Sex references, Descriptions of sex, Body image issues)
I Am Yours, and You Are Mine by @klaus-littlestwolf (Aemond Targaryen x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Niece!Reader, Uncle!Aemond, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Aemond, Omega!Reader, Targcest, Jace & Luke are jerks, Threats of violence, Kinda angsty with happy ending)
Silent Passions by @eraenaa (Aemond Targaryen x Reader, F!Reader, Tyrell!Reader, NSFW, Smut, Sexual Harassment, Misunderstandings/Miscommunication)
Hatchling by @thegreengnome (Aemond Targaryen x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Pregnant!Reader, Pregnancy, Pregnancy discomfort)
Of Flowers and Dragons Part II: Moonbloom by @aemonds-sapphire (Aemond Targaryen x Reader, F!Reader, Wife!Reader, Husband!Aemond, Mother!Reader, Father!Aemond, SFW, Pregnancy, Child birth, Trying to explain how babies are made to a child)
Gained a Wife by @writingsofwesteros (Aegon II Targaryen x Reader, F!Reader, SFW, Uncle!Aegon, Niece!Reader, Targcest, Injury, Slight Mommy Issues, Slight Parental Neglect )
The Wolf, The Raven, and the Arrow by @thesongoficeandfir3 (Benjicot Blackwood x Reader, F!Reader, Stark!Reader, SFW, Vague mentions of sex)
The Shortest Marriage Tour Part 2 Part 3 by @jacaerysgf (Benjicot Blackwood x Reader, F!Reader, Targaryen!Reader, Part 1 & 2- SFW, Part 3- NSFW)
Lady Strong by @spider-stark (Benjicot Blackwood x Reader, F!Reader, Velaryon/Strong!Reader, SFW)
Devotion by @entitled-fangirl (Benjicot Blackwood x Reader, F!Reader, Bracken!Reader, Wife!Reader, Husband! Benjicot, SFW, Murder, War, Blood, Death, Canon typical misogyny, Angst with a happy ending, Yelling/Arguing, Grief)
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strawbubbysugar · 9 months ago
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Eyy Ms. Sullivan finally!
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Putting below the cut for sequel spoilers, but here’s some character art edits! :D
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doitforbangchan · 9 months ago
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All Bark and No Bite 08
Another early chapter to celebrate my birthday 🥳 i am now a 25 year old child 👧 please enjoy and let me know what you think 💕
Masterlist
Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
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Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 
Chapter Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, Hard dom! Chan, suggestive, kissing, dirty thoughts, cursing, fluff, mild dissociation, traditional gender roles, crying (as usual)
WC: 4.1k
MDNI 18+
Hyunjin could, in fact, carry you up two flights of stairs. Now you know better than to doubt his physical prowess. It seemed almost effortless to him to make the trek up with you on his back. The whole time he had you hoisted up you were able to see the muscles in his arms rippling. 
It honestly made you see him in a different light. You had thought he was an attractive man- of course you did- but knowing how strong he was… It made you want to ravish him. See what other muscles he has hidden from you. 
Good thing you were behind him or he would be able to see the gears turning in your mind and the flush in your cheeks. 
He took you right to the closed door of your room. It was concealing whatever your ‘surprise’ was. Hyunjin gently set you down on your shaky legs, grabbing your hand once your feet touched the floor. He lifted your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss to your palm, then leaning in close as if he was going to kiss you. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, anticipating his next move. Instead he only kissed your cheek and whispered smugly, “Don't ever doubt me again, Baby.”
You had a look of ‘wtf’ on your face but he just ignored it, choosing to turn on his heels and head back down the steps. 
Before he went down he turned to you one last time. 
“Oh, the surprise is from Min.” With that he gave you a wink and descended the steps. 
From Minho? That felt slightly odd to you. You had gotten a feeling the beta didn’t care for you much, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe it just took him a minute to warm up to someone. Either way you weren't going to dwell on it, he had gotten you a surprise after all. 
Opening the door to your room you saw many bags sitting on your bed. Not just any bags, they were bags from Euns shop! Walking into your room and closer to the bags you noticed that there were many more than the 5 bags you had before your.. Mishap. There now appeared to be at least 10 bags. 
‘Did Minho get me more clothes?’ You wondered, suddenly overcome with gratitude. While you loved wearing your alphas clothes it would be nice to have some of your own, especially after Chan had literally destroyed your original outfit. You looked through the items left for you, and half of them you definitely didn't pick, but you loved each thing he had grabbed for you. You had been so worried when you were shopping that you would spend too much money, that you didn’t get all the things you had wanted. Looks like Minho paid you great attention though because he had picked things you had desperately wanted. So many pretty dresses and sets. And lingerie? 
Looking at the matching bra and panty sets you just knew there was a dark red blush on your cheeks. What was new though. There were also a few strappy numbers you would usually be way too shy to buy for yourself. It made you remember that you were expected to be shared amongst the pack. 
‘Did Minho want to see me in these racy outfits?’ You might actually have a heart attack at the thought. 
After looking through each bag you sped yourself down the stairs to find Minho. You went down to the second floor where you remembered his room being, finding the door open and him not there. 
You did take a moment to peer inside, though. His room was decorated in deep purples, and had a thick shag rug that almost surrounded the entire room. The space felt very mature and had a lingering scent of the beta. 
Your eyes were starting to close at the intense smell of him, a musky spice that was almost intoxicating. You snapped yourself out of it before you fell too deep into a subspace. No time for that you were on a mission! Next stop was the kitchen. 
You barreled down the next flight of steps, almost tumbling a few times due to your still weak legs, and onto the main floor. You could hear a few soft voices coming from the living room but none sounded like the man you were after. There was a smell of something cooking coming from the kitchen, and when you stepped into the large room there was Minho. He was there stirring some vegetables on the stove. 
He seemed to have heard you enter but before he could greet you, you launched yourself at him pulling him into a hug and smothering your face against his shirt. He seemed stunned for a moment- putting his hands in the air like he was afraid to touch you. It took him a second before he felt himself relax in your hold. 
“Fank you fo the clofes” Your words were almost incoherent against him but he managed to understand. With one hand he patted your head while the other leaned past you and continued stirring the food he was preparing. 
“You needed them. It’s no big deal.” He responded evenly, as if his heart wasn’t beating wildly. 
You pulled back from him with those signature tears “No big deal? Of course it is! You went out of your way for me! And got me even more! I am so grateful to you Minho! I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness.” 
He gave you a small smirk, “You know how you can thank me?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes, shaking your head no. 
“Wipe those pretty tears off your face.” He responded with a small pat to your cheek before turning his attention back to the food. 
You sniffled one more time before nodding and using your palms to wipe your face. It was then that your omega brain noticed he was cooking. That was your job! 
“What are you doing?” You demanded. “I’m supposed to be cooking for you!” You then tried to shove him out of the way but he wasn’t budging. He was surprisingly sturdy. All he did was laugh in response. 
Your lips curled into a pout and you crossed your arms angrily, giving him your best evil eye. It did not phase him at all, instead he just laughed again shaking his head and continuing to cook. You wouldn’t give in though! If the glare wouldn’t work you would try being sweet. 
Unfolding your arms you clasped your hands out in front of you and gave him your best puppy dog pout. 
“Please Min.” You stepped closer to him and rested your head against his shoulder. “It makes me feel useless if I can’t provide something for you guys.” 
Minho felt himself tense up when you touched him again. For some reason your touch was making him nervous. That is until he registered your words.He turned to you with a sternness on his face. 
“Don’t say that.” His voice was borderline harsh. You looked up at him shocked when you heard it. He continued a little softer after seeing your expression, “ You’re not useless, you provide enough” 
‘Or you're going to start soon enough.’ He thought to himself. 
“I like cooking, it's calming to me. If you really want we can split it up and I’ll let you make breakfasts and the occasional dinner.” 
Your eyes shined at the prospect of being allowed to contribute, nodding your head rapidly. You would take anything you could get. “Yes! Thank you Minho!” You hugged him again quickly before skipping out of the kitchen, happy with the agreement. 
The beta called out after you “Tell everyone 5 minutes til’ dinner!” 
“You got it!” 
Wandering back into the living room Felix and Jisung were still lazily strewn on the loveseat but now Changbin and Jeongin were also in there, the group playing Mario kart on the switch that was hooked up to the tv. You stood in the entryway for a moment watching them play. 
It brought back memories of you playing games with your siblings, back when things were simpler. It felt like they were, anyway. You had a pretty normal childhood all things considered. You had a good relationship with your siblings, you had friends, you were doing well in school- fuck, you were even planning on going to college to become a zoologist. You were happy. 
That all changed for you the second you turned 16, when you presented as an omega and had to forget about ever having a normal life. 
You must have been stuck pretty far in your own mind because you didn’t hear Changbin calling your name until he touched your arm in concern. 
“Huh?” You asked as you snapped out of it. 
The alpha had a look of worry etched on his face, “You’ve been standing there in a daze for a few minutes, Baby. Are you ok?” His rough hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into it comfortingly. 
You nodded, “Mmhmm. Sorry, just thinking.” Then you looked past him at everyone in the room, “Minho said dinner was about done.” As you said Changbins stomach let out a loud gurgle, causing the other boys present to burst into chuckles. 
Changbin released your face with a wide grin, “Why didn’t you say so!” Then he cupped his hands over his mouth to project into the entire house. 
“DINNER TIME EVERYONE!” 
You giggled at his antics and everyone made their way into the dining room to enjoy a meal together.
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Dinner was a quieter affair, it seems like everyone was still mellowed out since the joint nap you all took, the tiredness still present. That's not to say it wasn't full of jokes, that will never stop. By the time you had all eaten and cleaned up it was now quite dark outside, the light completely disappearing behind the mountains. 
Even though you slept away most of the day you could still feel the drowsiness behind your eyes. You were sitting in Chan's lap with your head resting against his chest while he joked with the other guys, the tv on in the background but no one was paying any attention to it. 
Your alpha had his hand on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into your warm skin. He could sense you slipping away every now and again, and had decided it was time to take you to bed. You had a big day tomorrow, anyways. 
“Are you ready for bed, omega?” He whispered against your hair, placing a kiss there. 
You gave him a slow nod, “Mmhmm.” He scooped you up into his arms and stood from where you were both seated on the recliner. 
“Say goodnight to the boys, baby.” 
You lightly lifted your hand and gave them a wave, “Goodnight boys.” 
“Goodnight, Baby!” They chorused, with Jisung adding in a little “I’ll miss you!” there at the end.
The tired giggle you let out almost made their hearts stop beating. It was so cute. “Miss you too Ji.”   
Chan carried you up the stairs and into his room where he set you gently in his bed. You immediately nuzzled yourself into his comforter. He spoke softly to you, “Before you fall asleep there's something we have to talk about, Baby.” 
There was a sudden inkling of anxiety in your stomach. Have you done something wrong? Were you being too much? What if he- You were brought out of your thoughts by Chan placing a chaste kiss on your mouth. 
“I can almost see your brain running a million miles an hour, nothing is wrong Omega.” You felt yourself relax at his reassurance. “I was actually going to check in with you, about how you are feeling about the pack. And about what we had discussed a few days ago.” His hands were back on your thighs,  the heat of his strong hands igniting something inside of you. “The other boys are quite fond of you, you know that baby?” He was staring deep into your eyes, smirking as if he could see how his hands were making you feel. 
“I-I like them too.” You stuttered. you kept your answer vague, scared if you revealed how they make you truly feel it would upset the Alpha. 
He hummed, his hands hiking up even higher-inching closer and closer to your core. He paused his movements, “ How much do you like them, my love? Do you like them enough to let them touch you like this?” 
You were apprehensive to answer him, so he pressed further. “You know, if you're worried I’d be mad or jealous, that’s not something you have to be concerned about. In fact, I would prefer it if you wanted them like they want you.” He smirked at the hitch in your breath. 
“And how do they want me, Alpha?”  The words were almost a whisper as they left you, your tone breathy. 
Chan let out a purr, “ They want you in all the ways I do.” His hands inched up ever closer but still not reaching. He leaned in close, his mouth almost on yours. 
“Will you let them have you? Will you be a good omega and please your pack?” 
The hesitancy was gone from you as you rapidly nodded at his questions, desperate for him. 
“Yes Alpha. They can have all of me. Whatever they want I will give to them.” 
“Good girl.” He praised, slotting his mouth over yours and finally letting his fingers find your core. The rough pads of his fingertips lightly rubbed over your (his) underwear, feeling the accumulating wetness that was making a dark spot. You let out a stuttering moan at his touch, hips instinctually raising to meet the touch. 
He hummed, grinning devilishly “ Does my sweet omega like that?” He pressed harder against your pussy, pushing the fabric between your folds. 
Nodding quickly you responded “Yes Alpha.” 
Chan then placed his lips back on yours, his hand pulling away and finding the band of the underwear. He hooked his thumbs under each side and slowly dragged the garment down your thighs, his tongue running along the inside of your lips begging for entrance. You gave it to him gladly. 
Once he had completely pulled the boxers from you he pulled his lips back slightly, still touching but not kissing. “You’re still too sore to take me, but I just have to reward my baby for being such a good girl.” His lips starting trailing wet kisses down your throat and continuing down your stomach where he lifted his shirt to reveal your breasts to him. 
You were squirming in at his touch, eager to feel his mouth on you where you needed him most. 
The alpha settled himself between your legs, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You were absolutely leaking. The crystalline liquid drips out of you causing the room to fill with the scent of you. 
“Who made you like this, Baby?” He asked in between sloppy kisses to your thighs. 
“Yo-you did, alpha.” You responded, panting in anticipation. 
“Hmmm just me?” His eyes found yours, as if challenging your words. “ Are you sure about that?”
You paused, trying to find an answer. “Umm..” 
He nipped at your soft thigh skin, leaving a red mark in his wake. “ You can be honest with me, omega. Have you thought about any of the other boys this way? Thought about any of them putting their mouths on your wet little pussy?” His tongue stuck out and he gave your clit a teasing lick. 
“Alpha please.” There was no way you could answer that. You were too mortified at the prospect. 
He growled at your avoidance “ Answer me, omega. You will get nothing if you don’t tell me what I want to hear. Do you think about them eating you like this?” He gave you another bite on the opposite side. 
“Yes!” You couldn’t take it anymore. Morals be damned. “Yes, Alpha I have. m’ sorry!” Hands gripping the sheets below you. 
At your honesty Chan licked a long strip starting at your hole up to your clit. The moan you let out was otherworldly, your hands finding his dark hair and yanking on the strands. 
You tasted divine. Like the sweetest nectar from the ripest fruits. Chan felt his eyes roll to the back of his head at the taste. 
“Please, alpha.” You begged, wanting- needing - to feel him again. At your pleads he dove into you, his tongue shoving its way into you looking for more of your sweetness. His lips found the little bundle of nerves and wrapped around it giving it a harsh suck. 
“FUCK!” You bucked your hips, shoving him further into your pussy. 
In retaliation he nipped at your clit and let out a deep growl, a glare in his eyes as they found yours. “Stay still or I will stop and leave you here with nothing. Do you understand me?” 
You let out a quiet “Mmhmm” and his fingers came up to replace his mouth, rubbing tight circles on you. 
“Tell me who you’ve thought about this with, baby?” 
Your own hands left his hair and covered your face in embarrassment. “I can’t. It’s too much.” 
Chans other hand that wasn't on your core reached up and roughly yanked your hands from your face, him now gripping the underside of your chin to turn your head to face him. Your eyes now locked on his as if he was seeing into your soul looking for answers. 
“You will tell me, omega.” He was using an alpha command on you, since you were bonded to him you couldn’t refuse no matter how much you wanted too. 
“Jisung.” You cried. “Was t-thinking about it earlier, Alpha.” More slick was leaking out of you at your admittance. This display of dominance shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. 
Chan gave you that predatory grin, pleased with your answer. “Sungie huh? How did 
I know it was gonna be him. Good omega.” 
He returned his mouth to you, this time with renewed vigor. His finger found its way inside of you, rubbing your walls with the calloused digit while his lips sucked you into the next dimension. 
You were squealing and moaning, unable to contain the animalistic sounds that escaped you. The knot in your stomach was starting to form, all you needed was one push and you would be a goner. As if he could sense it, Chan slipped another finger inside of you causing you to topple over the edge. 
You came with a long drawn out moan, Chan not letting up for even a second until your convulsions ceased. He wanted to drain you dry and that's what he had done. 
Once you stopped shaking and were finally able to catch your breath Chan pulled away from you-  his face soaked with your essence. “You taste so good, omega.” His fingers slipped out of you and he lifted them to your mouth. “Go on, taste yourself.” He urged. Your mouth opened wide enough for him to stick the digits in. Your tongue swirled around them, collecting the wetness. He couldn't help himself, he shoved his fingers further down your throat holding them there while you gagged around him. You didn’t fight him though, and just let him do whatever he pleased with you, like the good little doll you were. 
Chan pressed a sweet peck to your stomach before  removing his fingers from your mouth and crawling up to be face to face with you. When he was at eye level you grabbed him forcefully, connecting your lips with him and tasting more of your juices that lingered on his mouth. 
He was the first to pull away after a few seconds, nuzzling your noses together and just breathing each other in. 
“You did so good for me, baby. Thank you for being honest with me.” He was running his hands softly along your sides. 
“You’re welcome alpha.” You responded quietly. “You’re not mad are you?” 
He would have scoffed if you weren't so fragile right now. 
“No baby of course not. It makes me happy you want him like that.” 
Your shining eyes looked hopeful, “It does?” 
“Mmm yes baby. You are theirs just as you are mine. Soon you’ll come to see it that way too.” You nodded at his words, the exhaustion now taking over. “Let's get you tucked in. You have a big day tomorrow. We have a few things to do in town tomorrow.” You nodded once more and let him tuck you in under his blankets. He placed a delicate smooch on your lips then forehead, and you were out like a light. 
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Once you were asleep Chan sent a group text for a pack meeting out on the back patio. It was a warm night and he didn’t need you snooping in on this conversation if you were to wake up. He watched you slumber for a moment, taking in your peaceful features. He really did feel so lucky to have you. Everyday you proved yourself to be his dream girl. 
He gave it another moment then made his way down the steps and outside where the other members were waiting for him, lounging on the outside furniture.A few of them gave the elder sly smiles, they could all hear exactly what the alpha had just been doing with you. Chan just rolled his eyes and smirked at their looks. 
 Chan took a seat on the ottoman by the sliding door, “Alright, I was wondering if anyone had any more problems we need to work through.” He scanned everyone's faces, “ I know it hasn’t been the smoothest of sailing the last few days but I think from here on out it will be better for everyone.” There were nods of agreement at his words. 
Changbin was the first to speak, “How is she settling in? I hope we haven't been too.. Abrasive.”
Seungmin snorted, “That's rich coming from you.”
The alpha looked at him incredulously, “I am not that bad! Not as bad as your other fellow betas!” and pointed to Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin who all looked at him in disbelief at being called out. 
“Hey, that's not fair! We’re a sensitive bunch and she's a sensitive girl! She needs us!” Hyunjin protested, the other two nodding furiously in agreement. 
“Yeah she likes our kisses!” Jisung chimed in, then looked to Chan for confirmation. “Right hyung?”
“That’s another reason I wanted to call you all out here. Turns out she’s not as innocent as she lets on. She’s been having quite naughty thoughts about you boys.” Chan's smirk never left his face as he spoke. He watched each one of them have a reaction at his words. 
Jeongin sputtered out “Is-is that okay with you Chan?” He was nervous his leader would change his mind and now be mad about it. 
“Oh more than ok Innie.” Chan reassured him. “I have a feeling soon enough our little omega is going to be pretty insatiable and to be honest it would be a lot easier for me to have others to help take care of her needs. I mean, fuck, especially during her next heat it will be nice to have some help. My dick is still raw from that little minx.” 
There was a collective groan at the prospect. They would have given anything to be there for the first one. 
“While we’re talking about it there are a few things i want to discuss. As far as a claiming bite goes, it would be ok with me if you did bite her. Just not on the neck. And no cumming in her until we get her on some non-harmful birth control. I’d like to have time with her before we bring kids into the equation.”
They all nodded in understanding, agreeing with the alpha.
“Has she said who she's thought about, Channie?” Felix questioned with a dark flush on his face. 
Chan tosses his head back and forth as if pondering the question, before answering teasingly “I may have gotten one out of her.” The beta looked hopeful. “Buuuuut I think I’ll let you guys figure it out.” 
Felix pouted, crossing his arms. Minho was sat next to him and pinched his cheek, cooing at the younger beta. 
“Aww lixie don’t pout. You know it's probably you.” 
The red in Felixs’ cheeks darkened even more as he smacked Minhos hand away. 
“I think it’s me!” Changbin boasted 
“Nah, you should have seen her face after I carried her up the stairs earlier. Gotta be me.” Hyunjin said convincingly. 
 The boys just went back and forth, all trying to figure out who is the first one to catch your attention, not knowing it was literally all of them. 
It was pure entertainment for Chan and Minho as they watched the others bicker. 
Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
©doitforbangchan
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tinydefector · 21 days ago
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Marine Centre 10- merformers Au SMUT
Bluestreak for y'all cause he's the lucky Mer who gets to hit it first.
This was originally 8k words and I got it down to 4k very happy and I hope you all enjoy the first smut for this fic.
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Word count: 4k
Warnings: smut, interspecies sex, mating, oral, sex knotting. Language barrier.
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The soft whistles from Angelfish had been following them for a while as they continued picking up rubbish on the beach. Dale, Quin and the new hires were out doing water testing and they had said they were going to stay back.
The grey blue oceanide wades in the water chirping and calling out to them as he flings rubbish on the sand for them to pick up. He circles around rocks but comes back to the shallow water barely skimming across the sand to be close. 
They take the trash he throws, adding it to the bag even as he wobbles at them. "Angelfish no, not playing today, i'll go swimming in the reef later" they call back to him only paying mild attention. Their thoughts were off in the ocean, they hoped Big blue was alright he had been very scares since his ‘accident’ while Angelfish had become rather vocal and been pursuing them. 
 They yelp as he launches from the water to grab them pulling them into the shallow water with a loud thrill of triumph. "Angel Stop!" They yell struggling against his hold as he pulls them close. Their eyes look up to meet with the big pools of blue against black as he chirps and huffs out a little melody. “Ooeeeeneeooaee” comes from the Oceanide as he caws excitedly as his gambit succeeds.  
But at their cry, he recoils in distress, fins drooping in dismay. "Ooeeaeeouueeaa!" he, chirruping anxiously it sounds almost pitiful as he hands cup their face. Another collection of whistles and whines leave him as he looks at them pleadingly 
Feebly he trills another song, bumping his crest against their forehead. “Oeeaeeiaiaeeaeeeeeeoeeee." They squirm in his arms before finally settling when. "Angel please don't, I'm not one of your people, big blue understands and is staying away for a reason" they mumble.
 "N..o o..o Bl..ue goo, I be wih ow." The words are crash, harsh even compared to his sweet little songs. But they understand enough of it to see what he's trying to state. He nuzzles their face pleadingly, eyes wide and bright.
 " I fign.., fe..ed s..ae" he uses his clawed hands as he talks. “Angel Stop, you will hurt your throat” they try to plead for him to settle down. His fins flutters and flare as he gazes upon them. "B…e mm te?"
There is a long silence between them as they just stare at him in shock. "Angel... I can't, I'm not one of you, there are plenty of others of your kind" they explain only for him to pull them closer fins and frills flared in display head moving as if trying to showcase the colours that flare in the scales.
When they don't react to the little dance he huffs softly wet webbed hands cupping their face as he presses his lips to their in a messy and uncoordinated kiss. They gasp as he kisses them, it's out of the blue and such a human gesture, they lean into it softly, in truth it was a terrible kiss, he tasted of fish, seaweed and Salt. But his enthusiasm surprised them.
 A pleading keen erupts from his vocals as he holds them close. "Aeeeeaeeuueeuueeeeaoaaooeeaouuaaeeouuooeeieeeeieeeeaaeeeeeeieeoaeeoaee." Angelfish trills eagerly at their softening, nuzzling into their hands with desperate affection. They look up to his eyes as his webbed hands cup their face tenderly. "I can get in trouble, the others I work with don't know you are this sentient, I will get in alot of trouble" they try to argue. But his soft little calls are making it hard to say no to him along with his big almost seal eyes.
  
He warbles in confusion, gathering their small form close in an embrace, "Oh angel..." they lean into his body resting their head against his shoulder as they hold him. The mer slowly drifts back while holding them. The afternoon light bounces off the waves of the surf as he just cradles them against his frame. He warbles softly, nuzzling their head with his own. Another little melody leaving him as they drift in the waves together. 
"You want to sing for me?" They question. Not really understanding the meaning of his little songs but they sound much sweeter than him trying to mimic and use their words. Angelfish trills happily, brightening at their request. Carefully he carries them through the water. 
They sit up on him watching how he navigates so swiftly on his back, the small saltwater and freshwater river were the last place they expected him to take them but in truth it was still beautiful. They watch as kingfishers and sea birds perch in the trees. Crabs scurry through sandy mud to find hiding places as the large predator leaserly swims with them sat atop of him. 
It's a sheltered cove not the same as connected to the lagoons there's grassy little banks and it almost reminds them of fresh water swimming holes, with large rocks and little waterfalls that lead down into the mouth of the river where grass meets water. It's rather secluded despite how pretty it was. 
Gently he settles them amidst the soft grass of the creek's lip, eyes bright and hopeful. His fins flutter showing off colours in display as a melody rises from his chest. Their eyes never leave him as he sings, a cascade of tones and harmonics flowing from his frame in waves.
 It is so alike yet different from the songs of Whales and dolphins. As he spins around in the water, seeming to almost dance and he sings. Their legs rest in the water, his body brushing against them every twist and turn he makes in his dance. When its echoes fade, he nuzzles their face pressing himself close to them. the oceanide chitters and warbles happily at them. “ liked?” 
His body slowly sinks down as he rests his head on their lap, nuzzling their legs nestled in the tide, fins fluttering softly as their hand comes to brush across them. " mate?" His eyes blaze with longing hope as he looks up at them. 
They take a deep sigh before looking at him. "I don't know what to do even if I was too…" they mumble, trailing off. Were they really going to do this?. The oceanides are A completely different species, yes they could talk, and this one was rather eager for their permission. But this was still illegal, they were Sea life, animals. But as they look at Angelfish waiting patiently for their answer. 
They were both consenting adults and he was the one trying to propersiton them, but the consequences of others finding out still weighed heavily. They snap out of their thoughts as clawed fingers to move to their clothing, Tugging and pulling trying to indicate what he wanted. He chirrups eagerly at  them, his flared fins and frills shimmering as he still tries to impress them. 
Fuck it. 
 Their  hands move to the buttons of their shirt helping show him how to remove it. His eyes widen as webbed hands move across their exposed skin. They gasp as his cold webbed hands trace over their body. awe cross his face as he chirps at them. His claws trace aimless patterns, committing each new texture to memory. 
A shaky croon erupts from his throat  as he gently guilds their hands to his own body. The two tracing patterns and looking over each other's bodies as they try to figure out just how this was going to work. 
Their eyes snapping down to him as he flicks his tongue out to run across their stomach  before he dips down further. A loud gasp escapes them as he tilts their body back giving himself across to taste what he truly wants, a loud moan leaves them as he plunges his tongue deeper a loud rumble leaves him as he pulls them closer.
 Their hands grip his head, guiding him and trying their  hardest not to pull or damage his pretty frills. their hips rock into his mouth as he laps at them, hsi sharp teeth make them shutter as goosebumps flush across their skin. 
The grey blue oceanide chirps eagerly at their sounds, Gently he urges closer, fins fluttering, and when they feel his teeth retract it leaves them stunned. ‘They have retractable teeth’ the muse over as he continued to drag his tongue over their sensitive skin. It makes them keen and arch into the touch. 
Their back arches into the grass as Angelfish spreads their thighs wider, Gently he nuzzles his way back up their body. He gently pecks their face and neck, another small collection of thrills leaves him. Their gaze meets, as he rests himself above them. Claws digging into the grass as he looks down at them head tilted to the side. 
They tense up and freeze slightly as he rolls his body against them, his clappers move against their own sex. But when they spread their head shoots down, chin rested on their chest as they watched his slit open. his penis emerges slowly, it's smooth a lighter blue than the rest of his grey blue body. 
Their eyes widen as more of it slinks out of the slit. “Holy shit, holy shit” they gasp as the mer grinds against them. He chirps again softly checking over them again. “God I can't believe I'm doing this” they state In a hushed voice. 
The Oceanide moves them around slightly, finding his preferred position, one webbed claw holds their hips as he moves closer, the head brushes against their entrance making them tense up. Angelfish coos at them softly as he presses against them again they tip slowly breaching. 
 They whimper loudly, as he presses deeper, it's a rather smooth glide due to the texture. It doesn't hurt nearly as much as they were expecting it too. A loud purr leaves Angelfish as he slowly rocks into them trills happily,
 his back fins flutter wildly as he grinds himself deeper trying to press as far into them as he physically could. They clench at the feeling only to gasp and let their head fall back into the grass. They move slightly trying to find a more comfortable position, one leg hooking over his back.  
Soft chitters of appreciation escape him, once happy Angelfish begins to rock back and forth, it's slow, sticky as he pulls his length out partially before slamming it back into them. Loud moans leave them as they grip onto him, fingers digging into his back as they cling onto him with each thrust. 
Angelfish let out a loud whine, his body instinctively grinding back against theirs, his tail flicking each time he hilted in them, thrills of delight rattle down his spinal fins. Each thrust feels like they are gasping for air as he drives his spike deeper. The feeling of his scales are strange as he manoeuvres them but in truth they feel sinfully good against their skin.
"Ne…ed yo... waa,t..." his voice sounds so broken yet filled with desire and longing, his words broken as he tries to utter their words again. They dig their heel into the back of the grey blue mer. Eagerly clenching around him.
They cry out as Mers penis flares, a large knot locking them in place at the base as gush of seamen spilling into their smaller frame. Angelfish’s fins and frills extend in display as he thrills loudly, rutting quickly with each spurt that leaves his knotted length. It's uncomfortable after the first few spills, his load leaking out the sides of where they are joined.
They try moving around to become more comfortable but it only makes them whine at how full they are starting to feel. “Angel, fuck move please” they gasp out laying against the grass panting as they look up at Oceanide who seems rather content watching them. 
His hands move over them as he checks them, pressing against their stomach only to make them wince. He cooed softly with worry written across his face.  "I'm alright, fuck just wasn't expecting that " they whisper while rocking back against him. 
He chirps softly as he pulls them closer. Leaning back splashing into the water with them pressed to his chest as he floats. It makes them yelp as they shoot him a dirty look. Pulling his fin which earns a hiss and a look like they had kicked a dog. 
“don't do that” they grumble but settle against his body as he cradles them. as they gently drift in the water in lazy circles. Nuzzling their face with care, his thrills and calls mellow down into little chirps and rumbles. “God I'm so fucked if anyone finds out about this” they mumble to themself, eyes fluttering closed as they cuddle the large mer, it would be a problem for tomorrow, they were to drained and they doubt they would be getting away from the cling oceanide any time soon. 
“what am I going to do with you Angel?” they mumble before sighing and letting the soft rumbles from his chest lure them into rest. 
____________
The soft whistles from Bluestreak had been following the human for a while as they continued picking strange objects off the beach. He wades in the water after them. Trying to get their attention by bringing similar looking stuff he found floating in the ocean. Bluestreak chirps brightly as he trails after the landwalker, fins flared and ablaze as he was hot on their trail. Every so often he surfaces alongside them, presenting another tidbit of flotsam meant to please. 
But no amount of trinkets seem able to sway their focus from its task. Undaunted, the excitable mer redoubles his melody, “Soft one, please look at me, I'm trying, I want to prove my worth," He calls out hopeful they would spare him a glance. 
 
He circles hopefully, water swirling around him as he tries to catch their attention. 
Bluestreak caws excitedly as he succeeds in grabbing them and pulling them into the shallow water with him, making them forget their carrier of items and as their small hands briefly touch his frame he thrills in delight. But at their cry, he recoils in distress, fins drooping in dismay. 
"No no, please don't push me away!" he pleads, chirruping anxiously. "I just want to know you, prove I can give and provide" eyes wide and shining. To have come so close only to fail - the thought is more than his youthful spark can bear. Feebly he trills bumping his crest against theirs. "One chance is all I ask, please let me prove myself."
Their words make him sag softly, feeling dejected at their tone and the words he could understand.  "N..o o..o Bl..ue goo, I be wih ow." The words are crash, harsh on his throat as he tries to get across his point. He nuzzles their face pleadingly, eyes wide and bright.
 "I want to protect, feed... Always keep you safe I will make a nest... Please, give a chance to provider and protector?" There is a long silence between them as they just stare at him.
When they don't react to the little dance he huffs softly wet webbed hands cupping their face as he presses his lips to their in a messy and uncoordinated kiss. He had seen humans do this before to relay affection and he hoped it would be enough for them to finally understand. eyes taste of strange flavours things he had very tried but he enjoyed it and if it meant they would accept him he would kiss them as many times as they wanted. 
 "B…e mm te?..." the landers words hurt to express but he wants the get better so they can understand, so he can talk with them. The sad tone in their voice again hurts to hear, they sound so dejected to him, the hadn't said no but they sounded as if they would be in trouble if they did say yes. 
"M-mate, please...just try. Let me show you all the ways of the ocean. Our sparks are the same, even if we are shaped differently. Give me a chance," he almost begged eyes wide as he cups their face. nuzzling into their hands with desperate affection. Still his grasp of their strange world remains limited despite all longing.  
"Trouble? For touching?" He warbles in confusion, optics rounding wide and bright. The thought of their tender moments sowing them hardship cuts like ice through his spark. 
Determined, he gathers their small form close in an embrace. 
they lean into his body resting their head against his shoulder as they hold him. Mumbling in their little crash words as he pulls them to slowly drift with him. 
He doesn't understand. It's like how the elders told him to stay away from humans. We're they told to stay away from his people?
Bluestreak warbles softly, nuzzling their head with his own as he drifts further with them in his hold. Their gentle touch alone soothes some of his worries. "Nothing simple about you. Elders always said "stay away from you." He keens gently, hoping his melody conveys what words cannot. 
The afternoon light bounces off the waves of the surf as he just cradles them against his frame. He warbles softly, nuzzling their head with his own. Another little melody leaving him as they drift in the waves together. 
 Their question is one he understands though. trilling happily, brightening at their request. Carefully he carries them through the water. 
He glides thought the water on his back, making sure they stay sat atop of him. “this is my favourite place, i come here when i want to be away from the others” he coos. 
Gently he settles them amidst the soft grass, eyes bright and hopeful. 
His fins flutter showing off colours in display as a melody rises from his chest. The soft ones eyes never leave him as he sings, a cascade of tones and harmonics flowing from his frame in waves. He sings his spark out for them. As he spins around in the water, dancing and singing for them.
 When he finishes his performance,  he nuzzles their face pressing himself close to them. chitters and warbles happily at them. “ liked?” 
" I sing and swim just for you!." Eagerly he nuzzles their legs nestled in the tide, fins fluttering softly as their hand comes to brush across his frills. " mate?" His eyes blaze with longing hope as he looks up at them. 
His clawed fingers moved to their stange covering, Tugging and pulling trying to figure out how to get it off. ��please i want to see you” He chirrups eagerly at them, his flared fins and frills shimmering as he still tries to impress them. 
They moment they move to discard the covering he wants to sing loudly, to thrill in triumph. “ we take it slowly Watch and learn, then we mate." His fins flutters wildly as drawing them closer, claws trace aimless patterns across their soft skin, A shaky croon erupts from his throat  in plea. "Touch me too, let me show you how? We mate, then swim and sing together." His mind is racing faster than he can talk. 
The sweet scent from between their strange legs has his pupils dilating, his mouth is on them before he can even think, they smell so good, ready and in season, everything he could hope for. Their hands grip his head, earning a rumble from him. 
their hips rock into his mouth as he laps at them eagerly drinking in the sweet taste of them, when he realises his teeth are brushing their soft skin he retracts them, he doesn't want to hurt his mate, no he didn't want them to bleed. 
Their back arches into the grass as he spreads their thighs wider, Gently he nuzzles his way back up their body. He gently pecks their face and neck. They tense up and freeze slightly as he rolls his body against them, his clappers move against their own heat.
 “shhh, I promise I'll take care of you”  his slit open. Spike emerges slowly, Their eyes widen as more of it slinks out of the slit.  they gasp as the mer grinds against them. “it won't hurt I promise” He chirps again softly checking over them again. 
Once he finds his preferred position, one webbed claw holds their hips as he moves closer, the head of his spike brushes against their entrance making them tense up. “ no, no don't tense you will hurt yourself” he coos at them softly as he presses against them again the tip slowly breaching into their warmth.
It takes everything in him to not slam home into their tight little frame. They whimper loudly, as he presses deeper, they feel sinfully tight as he moves. A loud purr leaves him  as he slowly rocks into them trills happily. “primus you feel amazing, mm my sweet little soft one” he whispers. 
His back fins flutter wildly as he grinds himself deeper trying to press as far into them as he physically could. They clench at the feeling only to gasp and let their head fall back into the grass. They move slightly trying to find a more comfortable position, one leg hooking over his back.  
Soft chitters of appreciation escape him, once happy Angelfish begins to rock back and forth, it's slow, sticky as he pulls his length out partially before slamming it back into them. Loud moans leave them as they grip onto him, fingers digging into his back as they cling onto him with each thrust. 
Angelfish let out a loud whine, his body instinctively grinding back against theirs, his tail flicking each time he hilted in them, thrills of delight rattle down his spinal fins. Each thrust feels like they are gasping for air as he drives his spike deeper. The feeling of his scales are strange as he manoeuvres them but in truth they feel sinfully good against their skin.
"Ne…ed yo... waa,t..." his voice sounds so broken yet filled with desire and longing, his. They dig their heel into the his back. Eagerly clenching around him. Every thrust, every touch was a declaration of his primal need to breed and impregnate them, to claim them as his little mate. Would their pups take after his sweet little lander if they had them?
So many thoughts run through his mind as he holds them in place. 
"Such a good mate... so eager for my pups" he coos to them, he knew they couldn't understand but at that moment he didn't care, they felt so good wrapped around his spike and he could feel his knot slowly inflating and locking them together. 
They cry out as his Spike flares, a large knot locking them in place at the base as gush of his seed, spilling into their smaller frame. His fins and frills extend in display as he thrills loudly, rutting quickly with each spurt that leaves his knotted length. 
 
He purrs deeply watching as he leaks from the confined space of his little lover, leaning down he presses his crest to their forehead in delight. When they begin to wiggle he pulls them to his chest. His hands move over them as he checks them, pressing against their stomach. “So full, you look lovely like this little mate"he hums in delight only to tense when they wince. He cooed softly with worry written across his face. they whisper while rocking back against him. 
“Shhh, you did so well for me, so well, time for us to swim” he whispers to them as he flops back into the water with them cradled against his body. He chirps softly as he pulls them closer. Leaning back splashing into the water with them pressed to his chest as he floats. It makes them yelp as they shoot him a dirty look. Pulling his fin which earns a hiss and a look like they had kicked a dog. “What was that for?” He warbles at them worried he had offended or upset them. His hands are moving across their body again, checking them and praying that they were not hurt. 
They grumble but settle against his body as he cradles them. as the two gently drift in the water in lazy circles. He nuzzles their face with care, slowly grooming their crest fluff. “ My pretty little mate” he chirps to them. 
_______________________
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frogchiro · 2 years ago
Note
🐙 here!
👀 me making my own plot in my head for a/b/o cod.
imagine being the only omega on the team, except no one knows. and honestly? it wasn’t that hard to hide it in the first place.
always wear scent blockers. mild pills help, but having a lotion to rub on scent glands? makes you practically scentless.
act competitive when necessary, and back down when you know your losses are going to be big.
be caring. make Simon tea in the morning and a small breakfast for those who don’t consume just caffeine in the morning. soap likes to deny his liking for sweets, but make him waffles or cinnamon rolls and he’s on his knees immediately.
smile and be sweet. have happy little conversations with gaz about his latest interests. about the latest conspiracy about the Illuminati or his favorite game he played as a kid.
but not docile. docile is earned through respect. alphas have to earn the right to see you so submissive and pliant.
give Simon small smiles and chuff and play wrestle with soap and Gaz. late nights with price and paperwork. cooking warm meals after long missions.
the only reason anyone began to suspect something wrong was when you got sick.
headcanon that any omega and alpha will begin to give off pheromones when they get sick. it’s a little call out to the pack that you’re sick and you need to be babied and taken care of.
not even the suppressants and the salve can mask the smell of sick omega. It starts with a small twinge. a faintly sour scent that makes soaps nose twitch.
they can barely smell it. but they can see something is wrong from the way you look. bags under your eyes, a slightly ghastly appearance.
the way you move is a big give away. slow and sluggish.
finally it gets to a point where everyone can smell there’s a sick omega somewhere… but where?
in which case price has to wake you up because you were late to training. he was annoyed. a little peeved that you had the audacity to kiss when he had warned you last time not to be late.
last time you were late because you overslept. so this time the captain was going to give you something to startle your day into.
A soured scent fills his nose. telling him that there’s a sick omega and…
sick mate sick mate sick mate protect protect protect
provide provide provide pro-
gosh. price can’t get the sight out of his head. of you tucked so cutely into a small nest of military grade blankets and two pillows. your body radiating heat as you’d nuzzle closer into the pillow you’re holding against your face.
his inner alpha chuffs at such a sweet and docile omega.
maybe having a sick day would be alright… especially with your pack to take care of you.
hello octopus! welcome back! and aww, the boys taking care of their poor sick omega :(( they'd be quite distressed I imagine!
They are the alphas, the providers and protectors and yet it completely slipped under their nose that not only you're sick but also a whole omega too?? Unbelievable >:(
The second they realize your secondary gender and that you're not healthy it sends them into quite a frenzy; they're suddenly overcome with bubbling hormones and instincts they most probably never felt before.
It also means much to them than you could imagine. You being a omega, a sick omega, letting yourself be all vulnerable and open with a pack of alphas? It means you feel comfortable and safe with them, enough to show them your soft and docile side :((
Be ready to be fussed over like crazy, especially by Gaz and Soap, together with you they're the youngest pack members and when they first saw you curled up in your small makeshift nest, stinking up the space with sick unhappy hormones and burning to the touch these poor babies genuinely thought you were dying :<
Luckily Price and Ghost were there to correct them before they could barrel into your nest and nudge you awake; you were sick not dead and the last thing you needed were two hot headed young alphas on you.
When you woke up you were sluggish and slow; the cold did its job and made everything fuzzy when you woke up until you started to regain your senses and noticed that you were no longer cooped up in your tiny room with a few military-issued blankets and hard pillows but in a real big bed filled with blankets, pillows, sweaters and other things that smelled of certain familiar alphas; safe and warm. Judging by the overwhelming smell of the room alone you guessed you were in Price's room, a nice musky and woody smell, undeniably masculine and alpha.
You were still alone so you decided to just go back to sleep and try to sleep of the cold. With a rumbling purr you slowly fell asleep once again, maybe sick days and being the pack's omega wasn't such a bad thing?
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pavosnoctua · 4 months ago
Text
hunt
minors do not interact, ageless blogs do not interact
for @goxjo's Into the Omegaverse event!
cw: yandere, manipulation, abuse of power, non-con, afab!reader but very little pronouns used, pet names (princess, love, darling, honey), imbalanced power dynamics, stalking, general fucked up relationships, A/B/O, Alpha!Diluc, Omega!Reader, knotting, i did some very mild worldbuilding for this idek man, forced breeding, heat cycles, drugging, dacryphilia, unrealistic sex slight choking, some physical violence, modern day AU, extremely unhealthy “relationship”. I do not condone beliefs nor behaviors Diluc exhibits in this. not sfw
VERY DD:DNE
summary: You are an Omega with large dreams, and you proudly tell Diluc that you want to change the world. Diluc, however, has different ideas for you.
if i am missing a warning, please let me know!
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When he first met you, it felt like an instant connection - like you two belong together. Or better, like you belonged to him. Diluc had never felt this way before about anyone - every Omega he had come across never so much received his attention that rumors had started to circulate about him, that perhaps his father had lied when he was born and he was simply a Beta masquerading as an Alpha. And Diluc had begun wondering the same himself, even with his baser instincts, he had no pull towards any Omega.
But your scent was sweet when you graced his office with a kind smile and an earnestness that dug at him. You were just a fresh faced journalist, such a pure thing - untouched, chatty, but not nervous. You'd told him that you wanted to change the world for the better, so that Omegas could live a life without an Alpha at their side and without having to get an Alpha's permission to simply live and exist.
That's cute is what he'd think to himself in the beginning.
"You have big dreams then." Is what he said out loud and you smiled a bit, but it wasn't as bright at first. He said the wrong thing. Diluc swallows. Somehow, Omegas are difficult to talk to - more sensitive, more emotional. "I mean - it's not that I don't -"
"It's not that you don't support it, but Omegas are at a disadvantage." You complete the sentence for him - speaking the words he did not want to say out of fear of offending you. "Silly Alpha, change doesn't happen overnight but it'll happen. Watch me." You talk to him as if he's an old friend and not some millionaire you were tasked to interview.
You are a challenge. And Diluc realizes he loves challenges.
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He'd looked you up - Kaeya called it stalking, he calls it research. Somehow, he had managed to pull your number from somewhere, considered texting you - calling you, something before realizing that maybe his adoptive brother was onto something with such a strong word. It could put you off if he did, so instead, he goes the alternative route.
He emails you, asking if you'd be up for brunch or dinner. Something, anything, to get that sweet scent back. Anything to see that bright eyed look, the grin on your face, hear the challenge in your voice. Diluc hungers.
Much to his surprise, you'd accepted and chose a place. It's your favorite, is what you'd said in your email, where you'd attached a little smiley face. You might not like it, Mr. Ragnivindr, it's not one of those rich places.
That's okay, he tells himself and you. He can try anything just once.
The food here is greasy and gross to him but it goes well and you tease him for thinking about the idea of brunch - you're not rich like him, brunch is a rich person's thing. And Diluc accepts your little teasing jabs before realizing that the sweet scent isn't there, or well, it is but it's very much subdued. You're on suppressants and that bothers him.
If you were his Omega, he would not allow for such a thing.
Diluc swallows that thought, forces a smile and engages in conversation with you. You have many interests, many activities you like to engage in that you shouldn't, in his opinion. You're a delicate Omega, you shouldn't be rock climbing. Your soft hands should not feel such a coarseness. You boast about being able to drink your Alpha friend under the table and that's unbecoming of a proper Omega.
Each and every date after that gives him glimpses into your life - you do struggle paycheck to paycheck. But that never seems to deter you from anything. He could take care of you, if you were his.
If you were his.
You could be his.
(Planning has always been an expertise of his. He is a very patient man.)
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And here you are - disoriented, tired, and oh so pliable.
"Good morning." You stare at him with exhaustion in your pretty eyes, your soft lips parted to talk but no words come out. "I'm sorry you're likely not feeling very good. I think you drank a lot last night."
You swallow - he watches the lump in your throat bob and all Diluc can think about is biting that neck. Marking you as his in ways that just cannot be undone. He hungers, how he hungers.
"Wh-what?" You groan as you sit up, rubbing your forehead. "I don't remember going out last night. I had - I had a report to write."
"You do not need to worry about such things." Diluc tells you, and the look on your face tells him that you're not that stupid, but you are confused. "Not while you're here." That seems to pacify the worry that must be running through your mind, and he does feel some modicum of guilt as he watches you collapse back on the bed. Your chest slowly rises and falls. You're prettier like this, he thinks. Asleep, vulnerable.
When you wake up again, it's late afternoon and you're panicked. Your footsteps pad hurriedly in the hallway, until you find him in his office, hunched over some paperwork. At least you have some ability to feel shame, with your expression and your head ducked down.
"Thank you for helping me, Mr. Ragnivindr. But I need to get going now."
Diluc looks at you. "Why not stay for lunch? You have yet to eat today." He can't have you go hungry, not when he's going to have you round with his pups. "
“I appreciate it but I have to go.” You tell him, the slight sense of fear hitting you in a way you never thought. “Seriously, thank you.”
“Stay.” He orders as if you were a dog, the command making you feel mildly annoyed. “Lunch will be ready soon. At least accept that.”
You draw in a breath and consider your hunger. Accepting help is a difficult thing.
Since you are going to be his, he will make sure you eat the best meals, have the best anything and everything you could ever want.
After an awkward lunch, where you don’t say much, Diluc humors you. You go to leave but the doors are locked from the inside and he has the key. There is a sick sense of satisfaction when you come to him, confused and worried.
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You rally against him for a while - swearing, screaming, cursing. Behaviors he dislikes, behaviors an Omega should not exhibit. At first, he drugs your dinners - pacifies you well enough to make you sleep and stop screaming so much. The room he keeps you in, after you tried to escape by convincing one of the maids to let you out, is much nicer than that small apartment you had. Much better furnished too, so much so you can build a nest with anything you’d need. Blankets, stuffed animals, pillows - whatever you’d like.
All Diluc does is sit and accept it - calmly responding to your outbursts, not rising in the same heated fashion. It upsets you more.
One day, you do speak to him in a calmer manner - softer, maybe defeated.
“Diluc.” Your scent is sweet, it fills the air and he swallows. “I-I need my-”
“No,” he tells, firmly and watches you deflate. “My Omega does not need such a thing, you have me.” You shake your head.
“I’m not your Omega.” You argue. “You’re delusional.” Diluc sighs and leaves you be. He has other things to do at the moment, that don’t require arguing with someone so childish.
Your heat hits you a few days after - your pride does not allow you to deal with it nor ask him for help. But you’re miserable - hot, needy, maybe a bit nauseated. He stayed out the first day, accepting your demands for him to stay away from you. The second day had pillows thrown at him, shouting at him to leave you alone. You’d built your nest and it is a sacred place, but he ignores it.
“Let me help you.”
“All you do is hurt.” You respond and he clicks his tongue. Terrible choice of words. “Go away.”
He ignores you as he gently kisses you - you hit your fists against his chest but they’re too weak and don’t hurt. Diluc continues to kiss you everywhere, your eyes, your cheeks, your mouth, your neck - everywhere and anywhere and you still flail against him.
“I’m trying to help you.” He breathes, pulling away. “Please, let me help you, love. You’re such a mess.” He slides his hands underneath your dress, bunching it up as he trails them upwards and you go limp, allowing him to strip you. Diluc knows that every bit of your instinct is telling you to fight against him, but the pheromones he gives off is keeping you still. Or maybe you’ve given up for now.
Once your dress is off, he admires you as if you’re artwork - lovely, beautiful, needy. Diluc kisses the area just above your pelvic bone before ducking down between your legs and giving your slit a long, languid lick. You taste so nice, and the noise you make is like music to his ears. He focuses on your clit, altering between suckling at it and licking at it, carefully and gingerly slipping his fingers inside of you while you’re distracted.
He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly at times to find that spot that makes you gasp against his mouth and makes your fingers dig into his skin. He is a feral thing, desperate and hungry for more reactions out of you - more cries and mewls as he eats you out as if you were his last meal. There’s a cry from your lips as you come around his fingers, slick and glistening in the light. Diluc brings his fingers up to his lips and sucks on them, watching you with delight as you stare up at him with horror.
“Good girl.” He gently praises and you shake your head, trying to push him away but he easily pins you down with one hand. “We’re not done, princess.” You try to kick him but a slap across the face stills you - and Diluc is frowning down at you with disappointment. A finger strokes the stinging area on your cheek, before lips press against it. “I don’t want to have to do that again. Be good for me, okay? I promise you’ll feel very good.”
You whimper and he smiles - kissing your lips this time, allowing himself to devour for just a moment. Breathless, Diluc pulls away and quickly unbuttons and unbuckles his pants. He has to be inside of you now, his cock aches and your walls are wet and soft and spongy.
He bends one of your legs to your belly, glad you barely resist him now - watching your eyes squeeze shut as he guides his cock to your wet, needy entrance and slowly pushes in. Your hands pull at the blankets beneath you and he hums.
“Good girl, be good. You’ve got this.” His tender praises fall on deaf ears as you let out a cry - his size hurts and he has to force the rest of his cock inside of you. Your hands reach and grab at his shoulders, nails digging in and he groans. You’re so tight, you clench around him with need. For now, he lets you keep your eyes closed as he starts to move.
Every thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through him and it makes you gasp, he kisses your throat, teeth scraping against the tender skin. Diluc desires to mark you up everywhere - just so you remember who you belong to, as he’s definitely not letting you go after this. His pace starts to quicken, pounding into you without a second thought as you cry, wailing everytime he hits a sensitive spot inside of you.
“Look at me, princess.” Diluc rumbles, his voice deep with need. You don’t open your eyes. “I said look at me.” His hand is at your throat, fingers gently pressing against it and your eyes open. “Gonna put my pups in you and you’re gonna love it.” The knot at the base of his penis forms and you whine, coming hard at the feeling. Diluc is gentle as he kisses you, massaging every bruise, whispering tender words as you sob a bit as his cum fills you up. Lips hover above the spot where lovers would bite. And he bites down, pheromones filling the air and you whine. You’re forever bound to him now, and soon, the knot shrinks enough he can pull out. Semen slowly drips out of your used hole and you sob a bit as his fingers shove it back inside of you.
You think he’s done, that’s it but the smile he has tells you otherwise.
“We’ve got all night, my love. Let me prove to you how much I adore you.” At his words, he slams right back inside of you and you moan. There’s something inside of you that slowly realizes that you like this - it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth but you cling to him as he fucks you into the mattress without much regard now, his own rut taking over.
“You’ll be the best Omega in the world,” he groans. “For me, only for me.” He’s releasing inside of you again. “Princess, my sweet, sweet love, you’re so good for me.”
That’s all you can be.
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bunnyreaper · 11 months ago
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johnny is the wolf plushie that watches over your bed—but is he something more?
(18+/MDNI, plushophilia, wolf!shifter, mild a/b/o, mentions of blood.
part of my plushie-verse, and definitely with @iciclesses in mind <3)
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it was a random tuesday in june when he turned up on your doorstep—the most precious little wolf puppy plushie that probably has ever existed, at least in your eyes.
his brown-gray fur is silky smooth, with the journey in the post smoothing the hair atop his head into a perfect peak, you don't have the heart to smooth it down, as he just looks so precious with it. his sapphire eyes sparkle brightly and his mouth is stitched into a little smile. there's a note in the package detailing his journey and the coincidences that led him to you. How your dear friend had got invited to a car boot sale at the last minute, had happened upon the wolf plushie as they bought something else and the seller had passed him over with "free to a good home".
your friend immediately knew he belonged with you, and the bond you formed was instant. you rushed out to get him his own collar after just a few days, officially making him your pup.
the wolf was the loyal guard dog of your bed and your dreams, always there watching you and the other plushies that lived in your bed. some nights he was never out of your clutches, cuddled close to you all warm and cosy—other nights he kept watching over the bed, his presence making you feel safe despite the fact he was decidedly not real.
one night, for the first time since getting your pup, you spend the night away from home. you'd felt so bad leaving him behind while you went for your sleepover, but knew you couldn't bring him with you. so you'd kissed him on the forehead, set him on your pillow, and headed out for your night of fun, trying to cast him from your mind—after all, you shouldn't feel so attached to a plushie, right?
that night your rest was fitful, plagued by nightmares. vague figures chased you down, and the only relief you found was when a wolf came to your rescue. you recognise its sparkling blue eyes and familiar fur, yet its form is so different. no longer a sweet-faced pup, but a giant, protective beast—snarling and attacking those who chased you.
the wolf ravaged each attacker and yet… once you were safe, its aggression melted, as it stalked towards you, head bowed making it look respectful, despite the blood dripping from its maw. you know you should be scared of such a beast, and yet you know him—he's your wolf.
he nuzzles into you, surrounding you in his soft fur and warm embrace—covering you in his scent and marking you as his. your body can't help but react to the closeness, the intimacy, as you shiver with need. as both you and the wolf begin to calm, you feel his body shift, back to a man. all thick muscles littered with scars and dark hair—you feel his naked body pressed against yours, and yet as you're about to turn, you wake.
the dream leaves you more hot and bothered than your sleepover, and you find it hard to face your plushie when you return home, knowing the dream has twisted your innocent little plushie into an object of desire and lust. you nuzzle him to your neck, just as he had in the dream, and imagine what kind of mark he would leave on your neck.
over the coming weeks and months, the dreams continue. your wolf protects you, defends you, follows you, and keeps you safe. he's a constant, and you find yourself growing mentally and physically closer to him whether it's in wolf or man form.
the man behind the wolf slowly reveals himself, and he has the same blue eyes and protective stare, with a wicked grin and the same tuft of hair. you grow addicted to his touch, to the feeling of his strong body curled into yours, the feeling of his teeth on your skin, and the sublime stretch when he finally mounts you.
your waking moments grow a little emptier, as you find yourself lost to the feeling that comes with your dreams.
you find yourself distracted and forlorn one night, having been dragged from the comfort of your bed to a bar in town—one that's far too busy and far too loud, and filled with people that make you feel unsafe. you try to dance in peace with your friends, but find it hard to let loose with strangers grinding into you and trying to make a move—it's tiring trying to shoo off each new body that appears and tries to get close to you.
and then relief comes, in the form of a booming scottish voice fighting for your honour, asserting that they need to get out of your personal space. calm floods you instantly, and you turn to face your protector—only to sparkling blue eyes and a face you most definitely recognise.
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