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prettyboykatsuki · 6 months ago

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ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA

☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+

++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.

☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty

please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.

☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza

THIS IS PART TWO. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART ONE.

☼ wc ; 16.8k / 33.2k

☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative

☼ synopsis ; you spend the next four years of your life pining miserably and trying to get over your first love. it all comes crashing during the year you turned twenty-one, fresh out of a break-up and forced to reconcile with your estranged childhood friend.

PART TWO: LIGHT MY WAY BACK HOME.

Freshman orientation seems less like an orientation and more like a social gathering.

You’re not really sure why you didn’t think of that. This one is being held by seniors in your department, so you figured they’d talk to you about things like majors or clubs or general campus life.

The presence of alcohol and cigarettes after only thirty minutes is what alerts you of your doom. You’re screwed.

For many reasons and in many ways.

For starters, you’re all the way out in Hokkaido, which is a 19 hour trip from your hometown. You don’t know anyone at school except that one alpha you keep bumping into, and more importantly - you wouldn’t know of any good ways to excuse yourself to leave. You don’t even know where to go if you did.

Secondly, you’re really not interested in drinking again. At least, not for now. The memory of Bachira is strangely fresh despite it being over a year since, and you’re afraid a drop of alcohol is going to make you spiral out and humiliate yourself in front of your peers.

Third, most of the people here seem at least somewhat acquainted with each other. From the introductions at the start, there’s only one other freshman here and he’s already friends with a bunch of people. On top of that, he’s the rowdy alpha type you have a hard time with so you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do other thank stick to the wall and hope for the best.

You text Miki-chan as you sit in the corner. Were you always this poor at socializing?

After a few minutes, someone comes and plops themselves next to you. You’re mildly startled by her presence, jumping in your skin. She smells sweet, a mix of overripe mango and something floral. You startle as she crowds in your space, eyes widening.

“You’re the new freshie, right?”

You blink at her then nod. She’s extremely pretty and not entirely Japanese which is common for this campus. “Uh, yes. Nice to meet you…”

“Hira,” She says easily

“Nice to meet you, Hira-senpai.” You bow.

“Oh, how formal! Sure, call me that if you want.” She moves in even closer. You feel your heartbeat skyrocket and feel thankful you’re wearing a scent patch. “You looked a little lonesome in the corner, so I thought I’d come save you. First party like this?”

You’re surprised. “Is it obvious?”

“Mm, not really. But I can tell at least. I’m good at reading people. And I was interested in you,”

You stare at her as she leans against the wall. Long lashes, dyed hair, full lips and a scent so intoxicating you could drown. You feel flush just looking at her, attracted to her undeniably. The look she’s giving you is making you a little delirious.

Your eyes go wide. “Sorry?”

She beams but doesn’t repeat herself. “Are you a beta?”

“An omega,”

You feel her nose brush against your covered scent glands and feel a jolt up your spine. “Oh, you are. You smell good.”

You blink slowly, hesitating. “Thanks.”

“Which way do you swing, then?”

Is she… hitting on you? Then again, she could just be the touchy type like Bachira.

“I prefer omegas. I’ve never dated an alpha seriously.” But I was in love with at least one.

Her eyes light up. “So you swing both ways, or at least you like omegas. Good. My radars rarely wrong. Ever been in a relationship with anyone?”

“Just for a few months in highschool.” You admit.

“Right. Got any experience then?”

She’s…

“Uh, not really no. Kissed and stuff but that’s about it.”

“Eighteen, no experience, and into other omegas…that tracks. You’re not having much fun at this party, either. So, how about…” You feel her hand on your thigh and nearly choke on air. “We change all of that in one go?”

You feel a little guilty. You’re not sure what you should be doing. You never really thought about losing your virginity when you were in school for obvious reasons, and thought of it even less so when you were with Bachira. It’s not like it’s of incredible importance to you. Is it something you should let go of easily? Does it matter?

On the other hand, are you ever going to have a beautiful omega girl older than you offer to take your virginity and it not be an illusion? You’re not really sure if it’s possible. And you’re a lot of things, but you’re not a eunuch. Some part of you hopes it’ll get your mind off of Bachira.

“I really don’t know what I’m doing, just as uh. As a prerequisite.” You say stiffly.

“Are you a quick learner?”

Your breath hitches. “Yeah,”

“Then you’ll be just fine! Sooo… wanna get out of here?”

Shit. “Uh, y-yeah.”

“Great!”

She grabs your hand, hauling you up and dragging you along with her. Some of the seniors in your department shoot you a look like they’re impressed and you’re not sure if you should be mortified or flattered. “Taking the freshie with me.”She turns to someone who’s name you don’t remember. “Don’t wait up! And don’t come home either.”

Said friend sighs. On the way out, you hear them ask around about sleeping over and feel a little guilty.

She tells you about herself on the way to her place. A short walk from campus, you spend most of it wondering if you’re in some kind of dream. Hira-senpai is mixed but she’s grown up in Sapporo for most of her life.

Half-north indian and half-japanese. Tan skin, brown eyes, and long hair - something about her looks straight out of a dream. She holds your hand on the way to her apartment and talks to you so casually it makes you feel like friends. She’s good at conversation in a way that’s familiar to you, reminds you a lot of Bachira no matter how much you hate making the comparison.

Most of all, she’s an incredibly attractive distraction. She’s just a touch taller than you but she’s got long legs and nice assets, with curves in all the right places. She’s toned too. She dresses nice and smells so good. Has all the flair of an omega that makes your heart race.

Once you get up to her apartment, she wastes no time in getting you into her bedroom.

Kissing someone with the intention of having sex is different than whatever you were doing in highschool. Hira is well practiced in how she touches you, strips you naked, admires you.

She’s aggressive with you but you don’t mind. You end up in her bed faster than you thought you’d be. She kisses with with tongue, teeth nipping at your lips and neck as she whispers to you all sorts of things about likes and dislikes. You learn how to use your mouth and how hard to suck, and smooth your tongue along her scent glands in the ways to turn her on.

You find you don’t mind touching her. You like making her feel good. She gets wet for you and talks to you sweet. Intoxicating, you let her play with you as she pleases without words of complaint. You make her cum once, then again because you like how she grips onto your hair. Her praise is nice when you make her cum. It feels good when she returns the favor even though you feel embarrassed the entire time.

You fuck until sunrise and sleep in her bed. When morning comes, you find her wrapped around your with your body covered in unfamiliar nips of teeth. She tells you to stay for breakfast.

You feel like you walked the stairwell to adulthood a little too quickly. But it’s the longest you spent not thinking about the past

So you stay with her. You sit up and open your phone.

(sent 9:34am) just lost my virginty to my omega senpai. uni is weird

9:35am: You have 24 new notifications.

[ NINETEEN ]

“Do you wanna become club manager?”

You shoot a surprised glance at Satou-kun, one of your only alpha friends on campus and captain of your university soccer team. You’re currently in the club room, reviewing footage of their opposing team before they start training for the inter-collegiate tournaments.

This is a favor you’re doing for Satou-kun as a part of him helping you find board and housing all the way out here. Your current university had been your last choice despite being incredibly prestigious as a result of extra-curricular and exceptionally good marks for years of highschool.

You were supposed to be staying in a dorm room but there was some trouble in the office and no space left in the omega-beta dorms for you to stay at.

You met Satou-kun crying outside of the 7/11 near your campus, dropped down to your knees in pre-heat distress. Satou is from the countryside. A big, lumbering 6’4 alpha who apparently can’t leave people alone in times of need, especially not crying omegas. He bought you a meal and helped you find room and board temporarily before later finding you an apartment near campus.

In short, you owe him a lot. Insistent on paying him back, you’ve spent a lot of time helping out their soccer team doing this and that. Once, off-handedly during their practice, you’d helped one of their other team mates out with their dribbling and have since then become a psuedo-member.

You don’t really have any interest in soccer. Or at least, you didn’t for the first eighteen years of your life. Maybe it’s because you’re so far from home, but there’s something about seeing them play that feels familiar and fulfills an old itch.

Still, you’re not really expecting the offer. You’ve only known Satou-kun for a few months and you’ve known his team for even less.

“Uh. I’ve never been a sports team manager, so I don’t know if I’d be any good.”

“Seriously?” He sits next to you in a chair backwards, pushing his hair back with his hand. “You know a lot about soccer though?”

You swallow. “A friend—sorry, an old friend of mine plays. My nii-san did too but that was way back. I’ve just been around it a lot.”

He gives you a long look, brushing past the very obvious shake in your voice. You like that part of him, you think. “I think it’s fine. The team likes you. You’re meticulous and do well under pressure.” He takes a drink from his water bottle. “Plus I think the guys would be more motivated with a pretty omega manager. At least they’d wanna impress you.”

You blink. He says it so neutrally you almost don’t catch it.

“Thanks?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just an observation,” Satou says, shaking his head. “I think you’d be an asset to the team. There’s no one else who can mediate with coach like you can.”

Your lips twitch in the ghost of a smile. “That’s true,”

Your thoughts end up at Bachira as you consider the offer. Lips furled into a frown, something heavy weighs on your heart. You’ve gotten better at not letting him consume your every waking thought. Being busy has helped. But soccer is the one thing that reminds you of Bachira most. You’re not really opposed to being manager. You just don’t know if it’ll be too much. You’re not enough of a masochistic to say yes without hesitation. The painful, constant reminder of him through being manager just feels overwhelming.

You haven’t seen him in nearly two years, except on T.V. or in the news, doing exactly what you thought he would. You’ve put so much effort into getting over him but it feels like you’ve hardly made progress.

You sigh.

“Can I give you my answer later? After I consider it more?”

“Sure. If it isn’t too invasive though,” He leans into looking closer. “Can I ask what’s making you hesitate? I’d guess it’s that childhood friend but,”

You blink in surprise. “Yeah. That obvious?”

He shakes his head. “Got a nose like a hound, granny always said. Could feel the change even with the strong patches and inhibitors.”

“Ah,” You look down at your lap. “My friend and I had a pretty bad falling out. Think it was two years ago now, but I’m just worried it’ll bring up bad memories.”

“You cared about him a lot, huh?”

You aren’t sure what brings you to say it out loud. “I was in love with him. Basically my whole life.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever said it to anyone. It doesn’t feel as horrible as you expected.

“Was he an omega?”

You give him a humorless smile, shaking your head. “An alpha.”

He blinks in realization before nodding.

“Must’ve been someone special then,” Satou scratches the back of his neck. “I can’t tell you I understand it but you know. Maybe being our manager can help give you some better memories than what you left with. With time.”

“I know it probably sounds ridiculous. Two years is a long time.” You reply back.

“Huh? Hardly.” Satou looks at you directly when he speaks. “Don’t force yourself to get over it. I know you’re the worrying type, but sometimes it’s fine to just let things go as they are.You have to keep living your life right?”

“Right,”

“So don’t think of it in negative terms like getting over it. Do it if it’s something you might want to do. If it gets too much I’ll support you as captain or let you leave. You can make new memories here. It’s an opportunity, that’s all”

You give Satou-kun a small smile. “Satou-kun…you’re a good guy. You’ll find a good wife.”

“You sound like granny,” He says. “If you’re ever interested in becoming farmers wife in the country side, you’re always welcome to take the position up.”

“Are you joking?”

“No.” He says, standing up. His tone is unreadable. “You’d be good at it. You’re strong with good attention to detail so I think the work would be easy for you. Plus you’re after a quiet life, aren’t you?”

“This is a bad proposal,” You deadpan, shaking your head. “And most omegas would be pissed if you told them they look good to work on a farm.”

“It’s a compliment.”

“This is why you’re not popular.” You retort with a small chuckle. “If I ever decide to marry an alpha and give up on everything, I’ll find you. For now, I’ll have to decline the proposal. But I’ll accept becoming manager.”

Satou-kun claps your shoulder. “Eh. I’ll take it,” Your eyes meet. “If you change your mind on either thing, just let me know.”

“Of course. Thanks, captain.”

“Anytime.”

“Are you sure you want this?”

Hira-senpais roomate, Shinohara, busies himself with sterilizing needles. You glance at yourself in the mirror in their bathroom, red-rimmed eyes making you feel pathetic. You really want something to do.

Drink, smoke, something. But you’re not trying to start on using substances when thinking of Bachira since you’re sure it’ll kill you. You just need the distraction. The game is still playing in the background in the other room, so when you hear the channel change and feel thankful to whoever shifted it.

You rub your eyes with the end of your hand, voice hoarse. “Yeah. And I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“You’re still this hung up on that kid? Whatever his name was,” He snaps his fingers. “Bee boy.”

You huff. “Yeah.”

“Have you tried dating other people?” He suggests.

Shinohara pours rubbing alcohol onto something before wiping your ear with it on both sides. It’s cold and makes you shiver. “No. Never been interested,”

“Don’t you think it’s about time you get interested?” He uses a marker next, placing a dot carefully before assessing it. He repeats the process on the other side. “I mean, if just seeing him on T.V. is enough to do this to you after all this time… You barely react to anything, like a damn stone statue. Yet, here you are.”

“It’s not just that,” You sniffle again. Shinohara-kun gives you a disbelieving look in the mirror, shaking his head. It’s not just the fact you saw Bachira, but that you keep seeing him exceed your expectations. In news magazines, in articles, in ads for sports drinks. What broke you was seeing him on the news after seeing him earlier in a magazine for the greatest talents to come out of Bluelock, with speculation in his potential to become the greatest striker alive.

You’ve done a good job not thinking about him. You even got used to the press when you went to your hometown and saw him plastered on posters. But it dawns on you he’s still living his dreams and he’s not even twenty yet.

And you play no part in them. You bite your lip trying not to cry.

“I’m not piercing you if you keep shaking,” Shinohara says with no real bite. A gloved hand wipes your tear. “So toughen up, brat.”

“Stop calling me that. You’re only a few years older than me,”

“Stop acting like one and I’ll consider. Now take a deep breath. It’s gonna hurt pretty bad, alright? If you jolt I’m gonna kill you.”

“Stop worrying about me.” You sniff, wiping your nose. “I��m fine”

He rolls his eyes. “Then count to three and take a deep breath.”

[ TWENTY ]

“I’m home!”

Your face is cold from the winter air as you step inside. You shake off the snow from your body as you wipe your face, exhaustion settling in from the long travel. It’s not your first winter break home but even after two years you can’t get used to the distance

You leave your bag and luggage at the door as you strip out of your jacket, hanging it on a nearby hook. You sigh in relief, mind drifting off to thoughts of sitting in the kotatsu and warming up while you let your brain rot from television. You only have so many days break before you have to travel back to Sapporo. You glance at the shoe rack and notice a single pair of loafers. Your parents are probably grocery shopping. You always have hotpot the day before New Years.

There’s only one other person that leaves. You raise your voice louder as you call out again.

“Nii-san, I’m home.”

“In the living room,”

You stretch your arms over your head, sweater sliding over your stomach as you walk into the living room to see him spread over the couch watching something on the T.V. Looks like some kind of comedy variety show.

“Hey,”

You make a noncommittal noise, beelining to the kotatsu in the center of the room, sliding yourself underneath with a long sigh. Nii-san laughs behind you.

“Still snowing?”

“Got worse in the last hour,” You prop your elbows on the table, laying on your arms with a loud yawn. “My bags wet so I left it in front of the door.”

He hums as the two of you continue to watch T.V. in comfortable silence. You feel his gaze on your back for a while before turning around slightly to look at him. “What are you looking at?”

“Did you get your ears pierced?”

You blink. “Yeah. My helix and upper lobe on both sides.”

He stares at you for a long while after you tell him, leaving you confused. It’s rare you see your brother these days. He’s twenty-nine this year. He’s scruffy, face prickly with hair and hair grown out longer than normal. Eyes squinted, you feel his hand pull at the collar of your sweater before peering down at your back.

“When did you get a tattoo?”

Surprised, you pull away from his grasp frowning. “Same time I got my piercings.”

“What for?”

“I just wanted to get them,” You say, fidgeting with your.

“Well, it’s fine.” He says after a while, voice softened. His hand comes up to your head, patting it like you’re a kid again. You squirm away from the touch and sudden affection. You don’t know if you’ll ever properly figure out what’s on his mind. “You’re such a goody two-shoes kid a little rebellion won’t hurt. Kaa-san’s gonna freak over the tattoo though.”

“I won’t be here long enough for her to find out I don’t think. And even if she does, it’s not like I can get it removed now. It’s usually covered up enough that no one noticed.”

“I saw it cause of the way you were sitting, so don’t worry about it.” He says, patting your shoulder. “What’s the tattoo of?”

You frown, turning away with a flush. “…A bumble bee on a kuroyuri flower.”

“A bee huh? Should kill that stupid brat.”

“Nii-san!” You shake your head. “I already told you the fight was my fault. Don’t use it as a reason for your grudge, okay?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re twenty right?”

You nod. Nii-san grabs a beer from the plastic bag besides him, cracking the top open before handing it to you with a long look. “Here,”

You take the beer from his hand and take a drink from the top, malt hitting your lips and warming you up from the inside. “…Thanks.”

“If you’re gonna go out of your way to defend him even now, just text him and make up already,”He says, shaking his head. “The piercings, the tattoo… all that was to get over him, huh?”

You feel embarrassed. Was it that obvious you were hung up on Bachira this way? He always had a weird sixth sense about things, so maybe not. “It doesn’t matter.”

He sighs. “It does matter. If you care this much, there’s no way it doesn’t. Don’t be obstinate and figure things out with him.”

“Even if I could do that,” Which I can’t, ever. “He’s rarely home anyways, and I don’t want to have that conversation on the phone. Plus, he’s probably forgotten all about it.”

“You’re a smart kid but sometimes you’re so oblivious it makes me feel bad. Was it because you’re sheltered? You have no common sense.”

“Hey!”

“I know you’re just being careful but there’s no need to this extent. You two were attached at the hip for almost two decades. There’s no way he’d forget even if he’s a famous soccer player right now. Just make up with him.” He says, then sighs before giving you a serious look. “But seriously don’t marry him. I’ll kill you both.”

“I told you he likes alphas.”

“And you like him, despite liking omegas, right?”

You make a noise of indignance “That’s different,”

“It’s not. I don’t care about him but don’t be a coward. You’re a lot tougher than that as is and it doesn’t suit you at all.”

You turn your eyes to the T.V. pretending to watch it while deep in thought.

You don’t know. It’s been three years since you and Bachira stopped being friends but the wound doesn’t feel any more healed than it did last time. There are longer stretches of time in between that you can without feeling like the world is collapsing underneath you, but you’re not over it despite your best efforts. Maybe it’s true you haven’t truly tried hard enogh. Your last conversation was messy at best, a rushed outro to a life long friendship without any real closure.

But you don’t think you’re owed closure. What’s more, you don’t even know what you’d say. There’s both so much and so little you want to tell him.

I’m proud of you. I’m sorry. Who takes care of you now that I’m gone? Do you miss me as much as I miss you?

But how do you have that conversation? You’ve never been good at being upfront with your feelings. You keep to yourself, keep your head down, and get lucky to be around people who do it for you.

Even if you were to get closure now, could you handle it? You were never under the impression Bachira could love you, but at least now you can be open about it. At least now, you can tell people when they ask you about love and confess it like some sort of sin. The first time you told Satou-kun that truth, it felt like a weight had finally been unburdened. To become friends again now would mean you bear that silence of that again while you try to fall out of love, or you confess to it him and make things hard on you both.

You don’t want either outcome. You just want Bachira to be your friend. And you want things to be easy. You’re not seventeen anymore. You have school, work, clubs - things that you still need to be present for.

You can’t handle the heartbreak of that loss twice. It’d kill you.

Maybe, someday, when you’re really over it - you’ll reach out to Bachira as friends. Another two years so it’s been at least five, and you’re closer to graduation than you are to highschool.

For now though, the idea of seeing Bachira again is painful at best and stupid at worst.

“I need more time,” You reply after a while. “To get over it more. I don’t want to meet him when I’m still this… emotional about it.”

Nii-san sighs, over you. “Fine. If you say so. Drink your little heart out over it but when the time comes, dont’ miss your chance alright? Promise me.”

“I thought you didn’t like him.”

“You little—just promise.”

“Fine, fine,” You fall forward again on your kotatsu - waving a dismissive hand. “Promise.”

“I can’t believe my favorite heat partner went and got a boyfriend on me,”

Hira-senpai slides herself across from you in the booth in front of you. You glance up from your laptop just barely too greet her as Shinohara joins the both of you. Shaking your head, you take stock of your surroundings quickly. The cafeteria at the bottom floor of the mathematics building is still just as empty as it was when you came in.

“Where did you two just back from?”

“A seminar thing for senior capstone.” Shinohara answers. You make a short ahhh sound before continuing on with your typing.

“Don’t just ignore me, both of you!” Hira insists. Your lips quirk up at the corners.

“Stop announcing that we have sex so loudly and I’ll consider it.”

“Fine, fine. I just can’t believe you got confessed too and you said yes! And you only told me through text!!”

“What was I supposed to do? You weren’t even on campus so I couldn’t tell you in person.”

She pouts, dipping a fry into ketchup as she props her elbows up on the table.

“Whatever. I want details!”

“It was that huge omega guy on the soccer team, right? What was his name again…?”

You furrow your brow. “How do you know that?”

“I know everything.” He says seriously. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah it was. Takahashi-kun. He confessed to me as soon as I got back from visiting home over winter break in the club room. Gave me flowers and everything.”

“Flowers? What a serious guy. Are all the soccer club guys like that?”

You grimace. “I think all soccer players are predispositioned to have something just a little wrong with them. Him being chivalrous is fine, all things considered.”

“Hm. True.”

“Sooo, did you just say yes right away? That’s super unlike you!”

“Huh? No, of course not. I told him upfront that I’m still getting over someone so I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” You say, typing away at your computer. “But he said he didn’t care and wanted to date me anyways.”

“What a weird guy.” Shinohara hums thoughtfully.

“He’s that into you?!”

You nod. “I guess so. I asked why it had to be me and he said something I didn’t catch. Just that he thought I’d be a good partner and accept an omega like him. Which I guess is true.”

Shinohara chuckles. “You sound so enthused.”

You shrug. “It’s not like I lied. He’s a good guy, I know that. And I mean. Not like I have anything to lose. You guys are the ones telling me to try and move on.”

They both say “True,” at the same time, making you shake your head.

“So you’re gonna date him seriously?”

“I’m gonna try,” You reply with a long sigh. “I really just want to move on.”

You date Takahashi-kun for a year.

It’s a good year, and a good relationship.

He’s good to you in all ways that matter. He still believes in old timey traditional of courting and courts you like an omega might an alpha despite you not being one. Brings you food he’s made and other handmade ornaments. He’s taller than most omega men. A little over six feet and muscular with a sharp jaw but the roundest, brownest eyes you’ve ever seen.

Often, he asks you if you’re fine with him. Comes into your arms and weeps into your neck, scent sweet like fresh cream as he apologizes for not being cute. Takahashi is more omega than you are. Shows submission and pleasure in the textbook ways you see only in books and pornography. He’s kind and doe-eyed and timid. He’s easy to talk to. He’s attractive. Sharing heat together always feels pleasurable and warm.

Alphas like him. Mostly alpha women. And you like Takahashi too, while you date him. He’s tender and thoughtful - easy to read and easy to treat well. The relationship is never something worthy of complaint.

Which is why you break up with him before you leave for winter break the next year. You explain it all to him and feel incredibly disheartened when he cries. Takahashi is the poster image for what makes a good omega. And because he is so good, so kind, so caring - it’s unfair to continue to be with him when you know you can’t grow to love him the way he loves you.

If a year in your ideal theoretical relationship can’t be enough to cauterize the wound of your heartbreak, there’s probably nothing else that will except time. Even hysterical, you relay all of this to Takahashi as best you can. You don’t regret being with him, because he’s taught you plenty of things.

It’s because he’s taught you so much that you’re able to break up with him at all instead of remaining comfortable and impassive. Because you know the depth of another persons unconditional love and because you also grow to love Takahashi. You love him in a different way than he loves you, and you leave because it’s unfair. It’s the first year of your life that has felt long and meaningful since you and Bachira parted ways four years prior.

So you split with him, and tell him everything on your mind. And because Takahashi is a good person who loves you unconditionally - it hurts you both, even though he accepts. He asks that if someday, you think you might change your mind to call him. He asks to be friends.

You promise to him both, and then tell him again that you hope someone better will be there for him and that you love him even if it’s not like that.

The day you break up with Takahashi, you have to take a train ride three hours long to get to the airport where you’ll board a short flight, then make the hours long venture back to your hometown.

You’re fine for the duration. You don’t cry often anyway. It’s fine until your phone buzzes with the notification that F.C. Barcha has won a tournament match and will proceed to the next World Cup Qualifiers.

And then, like clockwork, you sob into your hands on an empty train - heart so full of longing you could nearly throw up.

You think, breaking up with Takahashi-kun was the right choice.

You think, I miss him.

You heart doesn’t name who exactly you miss. That name is written all over it anyways.

[ TWENTY-ONE ]

For the first few days of your winter break, none of your family is in your house for you to hang around.

This is something you’ve always been used to. Your parents have been on a trip in Kyoto and won’t be back until after new years and nii-san is working a lot of overtime until about the same. You have a copy of your house keys so you have a place to stay, and you’ve made some shrine plans with Miki and Sasaki since you’re back home.

They’re both still busy until the thirtieth though, so until then you have nothing to do.

Today is the twenty-sixth, the day after Christmas. You’re home early since all of your classes finals lined up in the short-span of three days. It was stressful but you’re thankful for the extended few days that allowed you to go home early.

Yu-san has insisted you spend some time with her instead of being by yourself. You always spend a day or two at her house during your winter breaks and have since you left for college. After your eighteenth birthday, it just felt like the right thing to do.

You bring her something every year when you visit, and sometimes you stay over night. She treats you like her own, and fills you in about Bachira from time to time.

In honor of upholding tradition, you decide to go see her a little early this year. Before you enter the familiar and cramped space of Yu-sans apartment - you always buy her a nice bouquet of flowers, a box of sweets, and an expensive bottle of sake. You have a gift for her too, some souvenirs from Hokkaido like always.

You stop by your house first to drop off your things and lock up before walking the short distance to your childhood friends home in the winter air.

You’ve been too often to knock after all, instead opting to text Yu-san and let her know that you’re there. You wait outside until she responds, giving you the go-ahead.

yu oba-san (sent 9:57pm): the door is open but i had to step out for a bit. make yourself comfortable.

You gather your things up in one hand and tucking the flowers carefully in your arms to open the door. Your bag of gifts and drinks lands on the floor with a soft clunk as you set it down besides you, balancing flowers on the small cabinet near the entryway. Sliding your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it, you force your feet out of your winter boots, eyes searching around for the right pair of slippers.

When you go to put your boots up on the shoe rack, you notice that there’s an unfamiliar pair of sneakers. You notice it too late. Mens sneakers.

A faint scent of burnt honey.

You shake your head trying to shake the thoughts away. The likelihood of it being Bachira is so slim you wonder why you’re considering. The match for F.C. Barcha took place in Spain. It takes a day of travel to get to Japan, so you guess it’s possible. Even so, you think it’d be more likely he comes during New Years. It’s not guaranteed he’ll have enough time to even come home every year. He did two years back from what you know but not since then.

You gather your things again. First the small bag you keep your personal stuff in, then the bags you’ve brought for Yu-san, and finally the flowers in your arm.

You decide against announcing yourself since you suspect you’re the only there.

Except you’re not.

The whole world feels like it’s collapsing underneath your feet to see Bachira in flesh, tucked into the couch of his childhood home the same way he used to when you were kids - with both legs folded up and his chin resting on his knee.

A shock of yellow hair, eyes gemstone gold and a stronger scent. Bachira. Meguru.

You startle and think of what to do. What excuse you can make. How you can tiptoe your way out of the room and catch the breath that he steals away from your lungs.

No such luck. Bachira is perceptive as always, noticing you before you get a chance to slip away.

“Oh,” He murmurs. He’s taller. Just a bit, you think. “It’s you,”

Your heart is thudding, blood rushing to your ears and face as you stare at him. You can barely feel your legs, weakness in your knees nearly making you buckle. Frozen stiff in place, you blink once, twice before nodding. You force yourself to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Uhm,” You don’t know what to do. “Yeah. I came to visit Yu-san.”

He nods back.

“She told me I should come over as soon as I can.” Bachira says. He feels unfamiliar. His hair is longer, but styled up and his ear lobes are pierced. He looks so much older yet so much the same. “My team mate dropped me off with his jet so I made it in a day.”

Ah. Was it planned? She’s like your nii-san in how much she wants you two to reconcile. “Makes sense.” You flounder. Awkward silence falls so you try to come up with anything to say. Your hands are sweaty. “ Uh..Congratulations on your win, by the way.”

He looks surprised. “Do you keep up with soccer these days?”

Just for you. “A bit. Out of habit, I guess. And I’m the soccer teams manager at uni.”

Surprised, he blinks in silence for a while.

“Oh. Well,” Suddenly, he beams. It’s no doubt forced and it breaks you into a thousand pieces though you try not to let it show on your face. Try not to let the omega part of you whimpering for approval too obvious. He smiles at you “Don’t be a stranger on my behalf! You should put your stuff down and sit. We should uhm..catch up!”

You make a face at him that you know is pained, but nod anyways. The tension in the air is so thick as you slide to the other side of the room, putting the flowers and other gifts on the kitchen counter.

Four years. Four years. How are you supposed to act?

“Uh,” You call from the kitchen, hoping the nerves in your voice aren’t obvious. “Do you uhm, maybe want something to drink? I brought alcohol and I think there’s beers in your fridge.”’

Your eyes meet from the living room to where you stand behind the counter. He shrugs, giving you a lighthearted smile.

“Mm. My nutritionist might get pissed but whatever! Why not you know? A beer would be good, thanks!”

You nod and try to do the same - keeping the conversation as light as you can. You repeat that it’s fine like a mantra.

“Is beer not too bitter for you? I bought chuhai cans. There’s a pineapple flavor,”

The question is innocent enough to you, but you realize seconds later the intimacy of it. Four years or not, you were Bachira’s friend your entire life so it’d be weirder not to know and even weirder not to at least ask. It’s an extension of courtesy no matter how unnecessary, and plus - you’re known for being a little too obsessed with the details. Bachira prefers sweet things and likes canned pineapple. You’re sure you picked it up out of habit.

When you look up at Bachira, he looks nearly ready to cry. It startles you so much you jolt out of your skin. He turns away. “Haha…You remembered,”

A pang of concern makes leaves you standing in place. There’s no way you would’ve forgotten. “Oh uhm. Sorry. Is that weird for you?” You explain, trying not to overstep any boundaries. “If me being too familiar is making you uncomfortable then—“

“It’s not that,” He insists seriously. “I was trying to keep it together but I can’t after that,” He lets out a loud sob suddenly. Your eyes widen. Several waves of emotion pass over you at the same time. “I missed you…hicc, why would you remember that…sniff,”

You soften, shoulder slumped with endured longing.

“I missed you too,”

“Liar,” He hiccups again, crying in full hysterics this time. You shuffle back to the living room to join him on the opposite side of the couch, placing the bag of drinks on the coffee table and reaching a hand over to squeeze his knee. “You haven’t talked to me in four years. You didn’t miss me at all but you remember something so dumb. You’re always like that. You’re so….”

You frown. Does he really think you didn’t miss him?

“It wasn’t like that,”

“Then explain it to me now! Hasn’t it been long enough…dont you…!” He exclaims, pulling his hands from his face. You can’t contain your surprise about the reaction though you understand it completely. You feel similar. You’ve convinced yourself the entire time that any relationship you had with each other was completely one-sided. Assuming he would move on fine without you now that there were people in his life he could call friends. Still, it’s so unusual to see evidence of it not being true. “You never explained anything to me you just..” He sniffs “Left me. I thought you didn’t care anymore but…”

His display of genuine sadness makes you feel horrible.

You press your lips together in a thin line, reaching into the bag for a tall can of beer and cracking it open before having a drink so it numbs your nerves.

Your stomach is twisted up in a knot so tight you kind of feel sick. There’s no way around the conversation now. You can’t bear to see him cry so much, so you should at least clear up the understanding.

Leaned forward, elbows on knees - you keep your eyes focused in front of you, keenly aware of Bachira adjacent to you on the couch wiping his eyes.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t miss you, I just uh,” You swallow a lump in your throat until it smooths out. “I just have stuff I want to get over before we could be proper friends again. I wanted to reach out to you a lot. It wasn’t like I stopped caring about you after we fought,”

“You hated me for lying to you and being an alpha right? Wasn’t that what you had to get over in the first place?”

Your eyes go wide. “No, uh. It’s complicated. I didn’t uhm, hate you for lying about it. I was shocked sure but you are—were my best friend. I did distrust alphas for a long time and I still don’t really like them… but it didn’t matter to me. I told you then too but I didn’t hate you it was just,”

You chuckle nervously, running your thumb on the rim of the can. “It felt wrong to keep being your friend. Not knowing something so basic. The fact you felt like you couldn’t tell me. It was more like I was too ashamed to keep calling you my best friend.

“You… Really?”

You nod. “And uh, I didn’t want to reach out to you again until i got over some personal stuff.”

“You big dummy,” He wipes his nose with the back of his sleeve. “It wasn’t like that at all…. Even back then, I knew you wouldn’t have hated me just for being an alpha,” He hiccups another sob. “I was just so scared you would that I didn’t want to tell you. I thought you would start treating me different and we’d stop being close if you found out I wasn’t an omega. You’re such a good person, how come you think of yourself like that? Why do you think…hicc”

“Sorry,” You mumble, unsure of what to say.

It feels like a great weight has been lifted up off your chest.

“Stop apologizing, dummy. Stupid.”

You give him a wobbly smile.

“What did you have to get over that you couldn’t talk to me for four years?” He huffs. “If it wasn’t me being an alpha, what was it?”

Your eyes widen, heart rate picking up so rapidly you can only pray he doesn’t hear it. You swallow spit, teeth sinking into your cheek. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

You’ve thought about this conversation before hundreds of times. Often. How it would go, what you would say if you ever got the chance to say it. But having the opportunity to confess right in front you makes it all feel hundreds of miles away.

Your mind has filled in the details each time with it going so badly. Bachira’s face, disgusted with you or otherwise unsettled always sears itself in your psyche so strong you bite your tongue. You always found him a little unsettled by you in you thoughts. Disgusted with you for liking him so much even knowing he’s not into omegas. You don’t want your own cowardice or misunderstanding to get in the way of being honest with him after so long.

You would’ve waited two more years to even speak to him had you been given a choice. But now with him in front of you, how could you possibly do that? It’s the universes way of ripping the band-aid off, you think. Such a tricky outcome can only being ordained by faith.

“Well, I uhm, I was—am, in love with with you. Since we were kids so uhm, after we split ways I couldn’t really apologize. I w-wanted to get along with you again for a long time but I couldn’t…” You shake your head, refusing to see his expression. Terrified that what you’ll see is disappointment. “I wanted to sort my feelings out first so I could approach you honestly, I guess. I k-know you like alphas, so I’m not expecting anything really! I just wanted t-to ease the burden on myself a bit instead of hiding.”

There’s a long, long stretch of silence. It feels like forever.

“You’re in love with me? But you like omegas don’t you?”

“Not exclusively I guess? I h-haven’t figured it out yet. I’ve never been with another alpha but my feelings for you are real. I know it’s burdensome to hear that but—”

“It’s not burdensome,” He cuts you off instantly. Your eyes widen slightly. His expression has completely changed. “Are you being serious? You’re in love with me? Since we were kids? Even after finding out I’m an alpha?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah. That was also part of the reason. Learning you were an alpha brought up questions. Uhm. Anyways. It’s been four years and I still can’t get over it so I didn’t want to put myself through that again. I hope it’ll make you believe that I don’t hate you at least,”

“You still love me, then.” He says softly. “Right?”

You flush, wondering why he’s asking. “Yeah. Same as always.”

He covers his face with his hands, suddenly grinning. Your eyes grow wide at that openly. “Aaaah!! I’m so happy I could die right now.”

“Bachira?”

“You big dummy. You should’ve told me before. How come you’re the only one in the entire world who didn’t know?”

“S-sorry?”

For the first time in this entire conversation, you let yourself look at Bachira who’s positively beaming at you. You blink rapidly, feeling suddenly deeply unsure of yourself and your surroundings.

“I love you too, stupid,” He says, sniffling. “Since we were practically babies.” He sniffles again, more tears streaming down his face. “Uwah, I can’t stop crying, I’m so happy.”

“But you…don’t you also like…?”

“Alphas? Yeah I do,” Bachira hums happily. “I’ve never been with an omega. And I’m not really that interested in them, either. I’m clingy you know? And selfish. You were the exception. My one and only omega.”

You cover your face with your hands.

“What’s wrong?” Bachira asks.

You laugh. “I’m so happy I think I could die.” You mimic. Tears wet your lashes with unusual swiftness. “I never thought in a million years you would ever like me back. It wasn’t even a possibility for me.”

It feels completely surreal. You want to pinch yourself. If it’s a dream, you want to thank whatever power is responsible for making it such a pleasant one and you never want to wake up from it. He…Bachira loves you. The way you love him. It feels so impossible. Your mind can’t catch up, leaving you slack jawed.

“Me too,” He hums lovingly. “Ahh, I don’t know if I should cry or shout.”

“You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

His grin is crooked. “Then you should do something to keep me quiet,”

Your face grows hot at the sudden implication. You’re not a virgin but the idea is immediately too stimulating for you to act normally. “What’s with that…”

“You’re acting like you’ve never kissed anyone before.” He teases. You shoot him a sharp look.

Your eyes go down at your lap. “Don’t tease me. I want too, I just don’t know if I can,”

You feel Bachira move over to you. He sits himself besides you on the couch, tucking himself against your side and moving himself to look at your face where you’re ducked down. You can feel the tingling in your skin at the proximity. Overbearing alpha scent that feels like a tight hug only because it’s Bachira.

“How can I not tease you when you’re being so cute, hm?” He hums. He’s so close to you. “You normally don’t react to anything but then you behave timid like this. It’s so cute. Don’t act shy and kiss me already. Or at least let me kiss you,”

“Bachira…” You murmur, trying not to explode.

“Ehhh?? That’s not my name.”

You laugh a little, picking your head up. “Meguru,”

“Better!”

You laugh again, helplessly happy. There’s no word in any language tantamount to what you feel - this much you’re sure of. Embarrassment doesn’t subside quickly but seeing Bachira in front of you makes you happy enough to try look forward. He looks older, somehow. His smile is familiarly boyish, sharpened teeth and piercing eyes even stronger than before.

Pointed, predatory - lidded eyes meet yours. “Let me kiss you.”

You nod, unable to form words to say yes but wanting it so terribly.

The second kiss you ever share with Bachira in your life is exactly like him. Overwhelming. A hard press of lips followed by his tongue sliding across the soft seam of your mouth, coaxing you open until he can slip his tongue in. Immediately salacious and hot, the kind of kiss you can only have in total privacy. The intentions of it are obvious. Your body singes at the feeling, immediately burdened with the weight of life-longing wantings as you kiss him. Deep and melty, your hands reaching for his waist body urging you to pull him closer.

You feel something tingling at the base of your spine as Bachira slides his tongue against yours hotly. Wet muscle tracing your mouth, drawing lines over every inch like he’s trying to devour you whole from the inside.

The scent of him drives you insane. He’s so close. It’s suffocating - rich, homey burnt honey and amber with something spiced clouding your mind as you breathe him through hot panting breaths and kisses and kisses. Wetness grows between your legs, the skin under your clothes starting to itch.

You’ve had years now to understand your heat. You know exactly when it’s coming, when it starts and how it feels. You’re not due for another few weeks but you know what your body is experiencing like the back of your hand. Bachira won’t stop kissing you long enough to let you warn him, tongue busy lapping at your lips. He swallows the little noises you make. You put your hands on his shoulders as you push him away, chest heaving through unbearably labored breaths.

A whimper in your subconscious - animal in nature, whines at you indignant. Inner omega burdened with desire and overwhelmingly craving the alpha so readily available. Estrus symptoms rush you strongly as your eyes droop, pressing your legs together hard so no slick makes a mess on the couch.

“Meguru,” You breathe out, barely. “My heat.”

“Was it soon?”

You shake your head. “I t-think you triggered it,” You huff, keeping your hand on his shoulder and wincing at the way your body keens.

His eyes fill with excitement. “Are you saying you wanted me so bad I made your heat come early?”

“Don’t say it so..haah… blatantly.”

He shivers, scent and pheromones releasing even stronger than before. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder as he overwhelms you. He leans in close to you, teeth nipping at your jaw - fangs dragging feather light on your scent glands.

“It doesn’t seem like you want to stop you know?” He murmurs the words against your neck, eliciting a low whine.

“Yu-san is supposed to be coming back.”

“She won’t for a while. It’s already this late, I bet she’s doing something else,”

“You don’t know that though,” You reason. He hums happily, nonplussed about all of it.

“Are you worried she’ll walk in? I can always fuck you upstairs. In my old room. She won’t catch us if you’re quiet,” His voice has a rasp to you you’ve never heard before. It’s usually smooth and upbeat, but there’s grit to it now that has you buckling at the knees. “I’m your alpha right? I should take care of you.”

“Who said you were my…?”

He gives you a serious look before you can get the rest of the words out. “Do you really think I’d let you be with somebody other than me now that I know? Don’t you think that’s silly?”

The predatory hunger in his gaze makes your breath catch. A gazelle in the maw of a lion, you wonder if all prey animals tremble violently when they at risk of being eaten. There’s such a thing as survival instinct, but there are abnormalities and exceptions. Bachira bears his fangs you, a blatant claim of his possession - teeth nearly drawing blood on the thin skin of your neck and you think to yourself you want him to eat you. To split you apart and lick you up down to bone, until your vision clouds with nothing but the sight of his hunger.

You want it so much you gasp, a bolt of lightning crackling through each of your veins. You shake your head obedient to your own want.

“My alpha,” You try the words out, heaven on your tongue. A claim. “My Meguru,”

“Yours forever. Always yours,” He hums, contented with the show of submission. “Oh, baby. I’ll take such good care of you know? Knot you nice and pretty. You’ll like I promise. Even alphas like taking my knot,” His hand slides under neath your sweater, slides just between the edge of your stockings and your bare skin. “But you’re an omega—my omega, and you’re perfect so you’ll love it won’t you?”

You feel drunk on the euphoria. Lust, lovesickness, lenience, all of them make you want to melt entirely. It’s so unlike you. During other heats with other people, you always managed to anchor yourself somehow. You want to blame it on your biology.

You’re hardwired to want this in some ways.

But now you’re old enough to know there’s more to it. More to why his touch is safe. What’s etched into your bones is Bachira’s name only. Only him. His knot, his alpha instinct, his fangs - they’re what transforms you into something beyond yourself. You want the alpha in Bachira, want him to sink his teeth into softness you’ve always kept inside of him only.

“Want you,” You confess between bitten lips “Meguru, want you so bad,”

Nothing in your life has ever been so true. No words you’ve spoken have bore as much weight as that admittance. Bachira licks onto your mouth without subtlety, fangs sinking into the plush of your bottom lip with lustblown out in eyes.

“Come on, then baby.” He tempts. “Let me give you whatever you want, mmkay?”

Your agreement comes out more like a whine than a firm yes. Bachira laces his fingers together with yours in the way he used to when you were kids walking across the road. You can barely feel your legs as you hurry up the stairs, worn but loved photos of childhood life and home. There’s pinned up medals and photos and each step you climb makes your heart race a little faster.

It dawns on you too late that Bachira is the love of your life. Your omega pines for it, longs for the intimacy of it. Alpha, alpha, alpha - Meguru. A hymn etched into your heart.

He tugs you into his room and locks it quick, groping desperately for the lights before pinning you up against the door in one swift motion. You feel your back against the wood as his hands move all over you. He squeezes the soft curve of your hips, nails dragging light against your stockings as he hitches your leg up kissing you more. Sloppier, messier - breathlessly chasing your lips and never pulling away. Always running after you when you stop to breathe like he’s destined to be your only source of oxygen. You claw at him, your eyes fluttering shut, rolling your up against him as slick wets the inside of your tights.

It’s embarrassing how wet you really are. It’s never been so bad So blatant. He laughs a little, the hard press of his cock against your core making you sputter. Giggly as he feels it, hand squeezing your knee tight where he holds you up.

“So wet,” He murmurs against your mouth. “You’re so wet baby. It’s making a mess you know? You’re not usually this messy are you? You’re not one for bad manners.”

You whine against his lips. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Stupid. I’m praising you,” He replies. “Praising your perfect pussy the way it deserves. Always giving so much to me. Don’t you think it’s mean if I don’t give back just a little?”

“Touch me,” You beg slowly losing your sense of shame. “Knot me. Fuck me. Wanna bond with you.” You sniffle, overwhelmed as you plant your face against his neck “Wanna be with you forever,”

A low growl slips from his throat, makes you so weak you could break with the slightest touch. “Don’t say that lightly.”

You claw at your sobriety. Overtaken with emotions or not, the desire to bonded—mated isn’t a suggestion from thin air. You want proof of him in your life forever, the shape of his teeth in your neck. It’s been so fucking long. You’ve pined for him for nearly your entire life. Clutching onto him is the only thing you can think to do.

Pulling away, you search desperately for your reflection in his eyes, trying to show your utter sincerity.

“I’m not,” You say with as much conviction as you can. Embarrassment makes your face hot. “I know I’m in heat but I…” Your lip trembles. “I’ve thought about it. I won’t regret. aI want you so much, Meguru. Bond with me.”

He whines. “You’re so unfair. You can’t just say that and expect me to be fine. You don’t know how bad I want it. Want you. For so long.”

“You have me,” You whisper, trying not to look away. “It’s hard for me to say stuff like that, alright? So if you get it bond with me.”

“You’re so fucking cute.” He praises. “Of course I will. How can I say no when you ask me like that? So pretty, so,” He takes a deep breath. “So sweet. So perfect.”

Your lungs expand with a breath. “Meguru,”

“Wore something so cute only to get it all messy,” He hums. His hands pulling up on your sweater. “Who got this for you?”

“Uni friends,” You mumble, heart picking up speed. Bachira draws the long sweater up on your form, sliding it up over your ass and waist. It’s shaded enough that the large wet spot isn’t obvious. His hands grip your ass, moan slipping from his mouth in appreciation for the touch. “T-they told me it’s in style.”

He tugs the sweater off of your body and tosses it somewhere on the floor, leaving you mostly naked aside from your underwear. You paw at his shirt making he laughs warmly.

“Wanna get me naked so bad?”

Yes. You feel ashamed thinking about how much you wanna feel his skin. Bachira is all sinewy muscle under his clothes. He’s grown a little over the last four years, even though you used to be the same height. It’s a touch of it everywhere, broader shoulders and deeper musculature, a physique carved from so much training. The muscles of his torso make you swallow thickly, the promise of dark hair trailing from his stomach at the top of his pants.

“You’re staring so much. I’ll get embarrassed.”

You find your hands smoothing up his chest and feel aroused about how good it looks. Weird gratitude settles over you seeing your manicured nails on Bachira’s strong chest. Too pretty for an alpha, but sharp enough that you believe it. The thought of the two of you together sends you reeling with thoughts. You’ve always wanted it. Always wanted him.

He only lets you admire him for so long. His hands go around to your back, unclasping your bra in one go. You let him take it off you - self-conscious in how he zeros in on your chest. Nipples hardening in arousal, his hands cup them and squeeze. The rough feeling and grip of his palms makes you gasp - harsh in the way you can only imagine someone who fucks alphas can be. Keening, you watching Bachira lean back in to kiss you briefly before leaving hot, wet kisses down your neck and chest.

Before he gets any further, he drags you along to his bed. Manhandling you until you’re laying on your back on his sheets, he climbs over you with appreciation. His eyes trace your body before landing at your core, sopping wet from heat-addled arousal. You cover your face with your hands.

Wordless, he grabs your tights and pulls them down from your body hard.

There it becomes obvious, your wetness. Humiliation blooms in the pit of your gut as Bachira sits between your legs, pulling your them apart at the knee with complete and utter fascination. You’re wearing light colored panties - plain with silly patterns, pale yellow. Your arousal is no doubt visible, soaking beyond just the inset of your panties but the entire thing. Slick runs down your thighs, down your ass. It’s egregious, excess appropriately reflective of how you ache. Your body is wholly for a knot with how much of it there is.

The longer Bachira stares, the more it pulses and throbs under his vision. You feel soaked from the waist down. “Is it always so wet…?”

“It’s not… usually this bad.” You admit. Bachira growls something deep in his chest.

Before you can protest, he rolls soaked underwear off you in one go and leaves you completely bare.

He’s imposing, stood on his knees over you - nearly in a trance. Bachira pulls you up by your waist, his thigh supporting your spine as he folds you up until your legs are in the air - bending down until your cunt is directly in front of his face. You gasp seeing his face between your legs. Both of his arms are secured around your thighs as he takes a sharp inhale. Slick drips down towards your belly because of the way you’re angled and bent. It’s humiliating seeing your legs overhead. He presses his cheek against slicked-soaked inner thighs.

Holding you still like that, back off the bed nearly folded in half with only his own body to support you - he dives face deep into your cunt without a second of forewarning. Your whole being lurches at the sensation, the lacking of build-up going straight to your tender core.

Bachira laps at your cunt like he’s starving for it. There’s no technique, nothing but sheer animalistic hunger as his tongue dives furiously into your sex - nose bumping and brushing your clit with each wet, forceful slide of his tongue, swallowing down as much of your slick with each go. You feel your body go weak, lightheaded at being held and ate so viciously. Arousal comes in waves until finds a pace for himself with little word of instruction other than desperate keening and vague asks for more. Your eyes are closed as tension draws in your stomach. His mouth finds your clit, sucking gently and letting the flat plane of his tongue smoth on the sensitive bundle of nerves over and over - sucking carefully.

His face is red when you open your eyes to look at him slurp your pussy, slick up and into his throat as if its a life force. Your eyes lock and you whimper at how he smiles into your pussy, keeping rhythm. He hums against you as the feeling builds and builds and builds. Heat makes you lightheaded, your thighs trembling, feet pointed with your toes curling as you reach the inevitable end of your first orgasm. His arms are securing holding you and taking the weight off of your spine - both of them holding you tight. You see the veins flex in his forearms as he grips you. Something about it sends you careening off the edge.

The first orgasm Bachira gives you happens like that. He makes you cum with your spine halfway up in the air, tension in your body going so tight before releasing all at once. Orgasm makes you crashland. You cum so hard, you’re blindsided. Tugging as from his grip, your thighs squish his face as you squirm, all the muscles in your lower body tremoring from release.

“M-meguru, can’tcan’tcan’t,” You feel his mouth follow you through orgasm in what reverence. His tongue dips inbetween your folds, the only mercy you receive.

All at once, he lets you down gently until your laid limp in his bed. His face is covered in slick and drool as you lay there gasping and twitching erratically in the aftermath of your first induced heat orgasm. You stare at him, dazed as he wipes his face with his hands then licks them clean.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” He mumbles, awestruck. His hand comes down next to your head, nothing but pure adoration in his vision - fangs bared. The yellow gold of his eyes pins you to his bed. “I can’t get enough of you. Didn’t know anything could taste that good.”

He presses his mouth to yours in a way that’s almost violent, holding your jaw so you can taste yourself on his tongue. When he’s pleased, he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek and all over your face. You can’t think of a single coherent string of thoughts, even after your first orgasm.

Like a livewire, every place Bachira touches, lingers for minutes. Just his name, just his knot - the only things your brain can make space for so aroused.

“Did I already fuck you stupid?” He asks, breathless laugh on his lips. “Aw, baby - we just got started you know? You can’t tap out so early,” He pats your thigh with sticky hand making you yelp and waking you up form your haze. “How can I make you my mate without your full attention, hm?”

You blink at him, tears at your lashes at his face. Your heart feels strange, so relieved, so pleasant, you think you could die. The smallest, soberest part of you is happy to be with Bachira but your instinct is practically clawing at your chest begging for more.

“Meguru,” You want to burst into tears but settle for soft sniffles. “Meguru, I love you. Love you, love you so much. I love you.”

“Ehh? Why’re you crying dummy?” His voice is tender, so thoughtful. Bachira is so selfish while being so loyal at the same time it makes your heart sing. “I love you too, so so much. Are you crying ‘cause it felt good?”

He leans into your space, letting your arms wrap around his neck with a sniffle. “It felt so good it was scary,”

He smiles at you - beaming. You want to hold onto him forever. Your soul has never ached so much for another person in your entire life, You press onto him tight, chest squeezing against his as you pull him in for a hug.

He laughs then, squeezing you in his arms before rolling around in the bed. The innocence of the gesture brings a quiet giggle to your lips as Bachira presses kisses all over you. Soft pecks on your shoulder, on your nape, at the crown of your head. “Wanna look at me this time, hm? Would it make you feel better?”

You nod in his arms and he smiles at you again, so sweet. He’s different. His egoism is so present, so there - selfishness carving him into the man he is now. Bachira does as he pleases with you, but gives you these little mercy’s admits his ruthlessness that make you want to fold under his touch.

He lays on his back and drags you along with him. You’re laid ontop of him, chest to chest - and he keeps you like that before gazing into your eyes so adoringly, you urge to look away. He holds your gaze, not intending to let you.

“You’re staring too much.” You murmur.

“I can’t look at you even though you’re so pretty? Unfair.” He says back just as fast.

“You say embarrassing stuff so easily…”

He smiles at you. “Because I mean it, dummy. There’s no one prettier than you,”

“That’s not,” Your breath catches as you feel his hands grab your ass, pressing your face to his neck, scent glands next to your nose. “…ngh, it’s not..”

“Don’t say it’s not true or I’ll get angry,” His voice is sing-songy as he gropes you with both hands, content to feel you as you rub your body against his desperately craving more touch. You want to be in his skin. “You’re prettiest to me.”

“Meguru,” You whimper. “Meguru,”

“Begging for my knot with such a sweet voice. How deceiving.” The contrast in the tone of his voice versus his touch makes you long for him. “Do you want my cock so bad already?”

You frown feeling bashful as you nod.

“Ah, but you’ve never had a knot in here before have you? Not a real one,” He hums, voice thick with amusement. “So I have to open you up nice till you’re nice and soft on my fingers mmkay? Here, turn this way.”

Bachira lays you on your side, letting you adjust so your arm can slide under him comfortable. He lays facing you, pulling you towards him until your legs slot together - one of your legs locked between his with the other on top. He’s face to face with you like this. He slides one of his arms under your back to pull you to him even further, the other reaching over around your thighs and sliding his digits against your slick cunt. Your own arm bent at the elbow, you hold onto Bachira’s face locking eyes with him. Hands splay at his face, hoping your expression is enough to get the points across. He smiles at you, fangs glinting out shiny as he stares back.

No words are shared between you but you get the feeling he knows exactly what you want to tell.

You feel his middle finger slide down until it catches on your entrance making you whine. He hums sogtly, forearm pressed against your thigh as he pushes his first digit into you slowly. Your lips meet again in something softer, heat stricken pining you moan as he sinks into your welcoming heat. His voice is a whisper against your skin.

“Fuck, nghh - Meguru,”

“Your body is made for this,” He says, awestruck and giggly. “It’s going in so easy. Needs my knot so bad it’s getting impatient and ready. So fucking wet,”

You huff impatiently. Rarely are you so petulant and impatient. You want more, need him inside so much deeper. From the first time you had sex to now, you’ve never experienced this much longing to be penetrated. To be fucked hard and deep, hardwired in your subconscious.

It’s never been important until now, until Bachira. His first slides in and out so easily, you only start to feel it at two. You tuck against Bachira’s neck, feeling the shape of his fingers. They’re angular, bony but long and pretty. They reach into you deeper than you’re own even with just two.

“There’s a spot that makes you feel good, right?’ He hums. You can feel the reverb of his voice from his chest. “Where is it… here?”

He hits it almost instant, rubbing your gspot - lightly swollen from heat. You arch against him as Bachira places an appreciative kiss on your shoulder. “It’s there. I’ll touch it more for you, ��kay.”

So he does. He angles his fingers, his wrists in such a way that he can rub up against it in a beckoning gesture. Your clit throbs in response to the stimulation - sticky, honeyed want coiling in your gut and abdomens as you sensitivity skyrockets even higher. Pressure builds slower with his fingers, just two - pumping in and out of your soaking wet pussy noisily as Bachira concentrates, low lidded eyes. Pressing his lips to yours and swallowing your tiny whimpers. You feel like you’re going to burst when he adds a third finger in. You’re not expecting the stretch - not painful but full. Makes you feel even needier, canting your hips against the motion of his fingers.

You cum again dully throbbing all over your body - the sensation snapping like something brittle - clean and even but obvious. Your cunt tightens, clamping down on Bachira’s ring, middle, and pointer and how deeply they reach inside of you. You’ve never cum like this before, never cum from the inside even during heat. Silken walls clamp down on his thick fingers never wanting him to go, only wanting more.

The arousal is just strong enough to make you snap. You gasp, nearly biting his lips as you shudder and rut - trembling in the strong grip of Bachira’s arms. The praise he whispers against your hot skin makes you feel so wanted. Your brain chants for his cock, his knot so eagerly you don’t know how to get it across other than begging him until your voice gives. The omega in you whines, sniffles brattily when Bachira pulls his fingers from you leaving your cunt so sorely empty.

“Fuck me,” You express, trying to keep your composure as best you can. “Can’t think.”

“Eh? That’s a first,” He hums. He draws your hips to his, hand on your ass as his clothed erection is pinned up against your sticky sex. “You’re always overthinking with this pretty face but now you want my knot so much you can’t?”

The words make you want to collapse, how mean he says them while still being sweet.

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup. “I love you

“Shh, shh - it’s okay,” He murmurs. If you were more there you’d know he’s merely teasing. “Don’t cry. Just have to stick beside me from now on okay? All mine. Gonna bite you and make it permanent so you can’t run away.”

“Okay,”

“And you can’t show how cute you are like this to anyone else, okay?”

You sniffle. “Okay,”

“Say it baby,” He echoes. “Say I’m yours and you’re mine.”

So you repeat the words as best you can in this state, slurring your words. “I’m yours and… you’re mine.”

He grins. “You’re so cute. So perfect. Ah, I’m getting jealous of other people just thinking about it.”

You blurt the words out drunk off of the sensations in your body when you hear Bachira talk of jealousy. “I broke up with my last boyfriend because of you,” You mumble, inhaling his scent “He was really nice to me but I couldn’t get over you even though we were together for a year,” You let your eyes flutter shut. “It was just a few days ago. So, there’s nothing to be jealous over,”

A long silence stretches between you at the confession as you listen to Bachira’s heartbeat pick-up pace until it’s a loud pump. The sudden change makes you concerned, pulling away to see what he’s thinking. You assume it was going to be something cheeky and playful like always, but when you look at him - he’s blushing full red. Completely bashful, eyes blown wide and blinking rapidly. You feel oddly amused at it as he presses his lips together, hugging you until you laugh.

“You’re soo unfair. Ugh, how could you…ugh” He trails off to stare at you. “You love me?”

You smile at him breaking out into a giggle. “A lot. It’s embarrassing.”

He sighs blissfully content.

“I can’t look at you while I bond with you but I want to when I knot you ‘kay? Wanna hold you really close.”

“Meguru,”

He whistles at the sound of his name on your lips, like it’s all you need to say. “Lay on your tummy baby. “

He moves aside to let you flip over until you’re laying flat on your stomach. You lift your hips up slightly to make yourself more accessible, burying your face in your arms crossed in front you. You feel anticipation build up in your body, thoughts complete clouded. Your incisors sink in your lower lip as you listen to Bachira unzip and take off his pants, wiggling your hips lightly to tempt him. His hand comes down to swat your ass in a playful gesture. You yelp.

He’s quiet for a while, his hands coming onto your back. “What’s this?”

Your eyes widen as his fingers brush over the spot. You hadn’t thought about it. Your tattoo. Shit.

“…A tattoo,”

“Of a bumble bee and a flower,” Bachira repeats, shit-eating grin audible. “What kind of flower?”

“Kuroyuri.” You say, embarrassed. “Stands for love and curse.”

“Oh you’re really that in love with me, hm? How old is this? It’s healed. You missed me so much? I’m so happy.” He says breathlessly, elation so obvious in his voice it makes you shy. “Tell me all about when I’m done fucking you, okay baby?”

You bury your face away from him, feeling shy as he kisses the placement before moving along.

The position doesn’t let you see Bachira’s cock. Instead you feel it, which makes it much more imposing than you ever thought possible. The weight, the heft, the thickness of it is makes your breath hitch as you finally feel it outside of the confines of his boxers. You don’t need to look at it, you can feel how massive it is. He slides it along the curve of your ass and you can sense it so obviously it makes your stomach churn. He slides it between your ass, pushing it through both cheeks but not penetrating and it stretches you. You can barely contain the shock in your voice, pussy throbbing at the idea of him being inside of you with something so unbearably big.

He hasn’t even knotted you. How can he possibly be that big without a knot. Your voice trembles.

“Meguru… you’re huge.”

He laughs, breathless. Cocky and egoistic that sends your spine tingling like a solar flare. “You don’t like it?”

“I’m a little scared,” You admit. “But I want it at the same time.”

“Don’t be scared,” His voice is tender but his words are filthy. “You’re made for me. Your cunts all split open and soaking wet because it’s begging you for my knot, pretty. Just mine. You’ll feel so full with me. So don’t be nervous and let me in okay?”

You breathe deeply shakily, eyes fluttering closed at the promise of it. “Okay, Meguru.”

You find yourself thankful that you’re not looking at him, but at the same time - you’re unsure if it’s better. You have to focus in on the sensation. There’s nothing but posters on the wall for you to look at and your eyes are barely focused it. Every inch of your skin is dry kindle and Bachira is the lighter - the match, the spark that sends you reeling in the midst of your heat.

Your heats are always drunken stupors, messy hormonal sessions. To you they’ve always been akin to intense inebriated sex that’s painful unless you cum a few times.

But with Bachira your heat is all encompassing flame. It’s like letting the sun swallow you whole, sweat dripping down your spine. When Bachira pushes the fat head of his cock into your tight, wanting, needy fucking cunt - you cry so loud you might scream. Whats left of your sense snaps as your body throbs for cock, you push yourself back onto him with a groan. You want him to knot you, want him to fuck you full and cum deep inside and plug you up. Want him to make you so whole and he’s so good because he is.

You feel your fists tangle in the sheets, and then feel Bachira’s body slump over yours from behind. His hand falls over yours, squeezing it as the thick swell of his shaft pushes into you your pussy painfully slow and stakes its claim. You feel like an animal the way you give way to your desires.

The sensations and scent in the room is so strong your eyes sting and your mouth waters, drool pooling at your lips as Bachira splits your pussy open completely on his fat cock. Everything is sweet, coats your mouth as you take in a sharp gasp of air. You choke his name out from your lips, whimpering at the soft growl in his voice when he finally bottoms out. Inch by inch, veins of his cock throbbing and pulsing inside of you.

Your body is hypersensitive. You’re so wet, so out of your mind with that your thighs are trembling at the edge of an orgasm. If he moves the right way, you know you’ll cum instantly.

He leans over your shoulder and you pick your head up weakly letting him lick into your mouth. “Gonna bond you. Gonna mark you and mate you and making you all fucking mine. Sink my fangs into your pretty neck, my pretty omega. You’re so precious baby. Make me so hard. I love you, I love you so much.”

“Bite me,” Is all you can get out, your brain can barely think hard enough for anything else. “Please. Please bite me,”

It’s sudden. Sharp. Exactly what you want.

You feel the sensation of teeth in your neck and everything around you halts to honor it. An orgasm shatters you in the process of it as Bachira pulls out and thrusts his hips and you cum so hard you shake violently - hands fisted in the sheets and pussy spasming as you cum relentlessly. Bottomed out, you allow your body to take it all in before the feeling your bond starts to draw in so much clarity. Belly fully, muscles tight - everything slows the the whirring blades of a fan coming a halt or a car worshiping a red light. The world stops spinning, briefly - mind and soul and spirit melding together his fangs descent into your neck. You feel the sharpening teeth sink into the soft flesh of your nape and cry out at the dull sensation of pain, outweighed by the out-of-body euphoria.

It’s like everything makes sense. Every moment, every concern, every heartbreak - every minute apart. Love like a nerve split raw, open, tender - make tears pool at your lashes and spill down your face as Bachira bonds with you and stays there long enough to penetrate. All endorphins, pleasure, pain. Something clicks steadily into place inside of you and makes sense of all of your mess. Everything you are.

A sense of completeness like nothing you could ever know without him. You love him so much it swallows you whole.

Bonding, a mark of permanence - can be rejected by the body. Bred into your secondary sex after years of evolution. A unique trait to alpha and omega sexes, whether same or opposite sex pairs. Bonds are equivalent to sharing yourself with another person. Weak bonds can be broken, and some bonds won’t take at all.

When your bond with Bachira takes so easily some part of you just knows. Some place beyond instinct, beyond every thing in the world that defines you. All of you has always existed in part with Bachira. And this pleasure, this desire for closeness can only be derived from years of unconditional love.

Whatever would happen of you, had you been born an alpha or beta, Bachira would be born alongside you and make you complete or you, him. The way the sensation connects you like an invisible thread is proof of that. The ease of it. The desire between you is greater because of it’s exclusivity, because you prefer omegas and always will - but no one compares to Bachira regardless of sex or anatomy. He is yours because he is him, sweet smells and soft eyes and need.

You can’t help but weep about it as you know he feels it too, secretions from his teeth dulling the pain from the wound as he finally pulls out from the mark and laps at the blood.

You feel such intense relief, heat subsiding leaving only pleasure and warmth. .

You love him so much you could stay like this. You love him so much nothing else in the world could ever sway you from it. You don’t care what it makes you. What it means. You love Bachira as he loves you - conventionally unconventional. Beautifully imperfect.

Tears slip down your face as Bachira licks your wounds for you like always.

“I’m yours, baby.” Bachira says, soft. Whispers your first name as he says it. “I love you so much. My whole life. Since I was little. Since you called out to me and let me show you my dribbling. I can’t stand being without you, you know? So don’t ever leave me,”

You laugh a little, sobering. “As if I could.”

“Wanna knot you and hold you, kay? Gimme a sec.”

Your body whines at sensation of Bachira slowly pulling out before flipping you onto your back in missionary. He’s quick to do it. You glance at his shiny cock , light throb in your neck as he shoves the whole thing back in one go and making your sensitive hole cum all over again. Your own body is ridiculous to you. You’re making a mess on his cock and definitely of his bed in the process, gasping as your muscles spasm in your waist.

“S-sorry,”

“Don’t apologize for that, dummy.” He kisses you. “Here. Hold onto me.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and let yourself slump into bed, whining as Bachira fucks you a few times - sloppy, wet thrusts noisy in the room around you. You feel them in your exhaustion, another wave of tension making your stomach burn.

“Gonna, fuck—knot you, gonna knot you, ‘kay? Touch yourself for me.”

“Knot me, Meguru.”

Bachira bottoms out. You feel his cum flood your cunt - so thick it’s in a stream as the base of his thick cock swells inside your pussy. You’re already so stretched by his dick on its own, you can’t imagine the sensation of the real thing until you feel it.

It throbs hotly inside of you, deep. The knot swells up until it’s fat enough to stretch your open, slick pussy even further. You feel it in spite of how wet you are, the sensation rubbing on your walls raw punching all the air out of your lungs as he cock fills you completely. You feel it in your throat, his knot in your belly plugging you full as you breathe.

“Fuck,” Your voice breaks. “You’re so huge, what the fuck.”

He pauses then laughs hysterically as he sinks into you unable to move. “Thanks! I’m pretty proud of it.”

You chuckle tiredly. “How long does this last?”

He hums. “An hour-ish?”

Your eyes go wide. “Shit. Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Bachira says happily, collapsing ontop of you. “And when it goes down I’m going to fuck you some more.”

“Mercy… my stamina… Meguru I’ll die.”

“No way. I’ve waited too long.” He says with a deep breath. “But I’ll let you rest for now.”

You close your eyes, smiling. “Pfft. Thanks.”

Your back is going to give out.

Athletes are frightening. Your body is covered in bite marks underneath the collar as you peel out of Bachira’s arms in the morning after. It’s 7am, and the sun still hasn’t risen since it’s the dead of winter. You stare at him, kissing his cheek as he lays - completely rested and healthy. Bastard.

“Meguru,” You hum, stirring him awake. “I’m gonna run to the store and pick us up something to eat.”

“Noooo,” He says, half asleep trying to wrestle you back into bed. “Stay here. With me,”

“No,” You reprimand, peeling away from him. He whines out loud. “I’m sticky. I’m gonna borrow your loose clothes okay? I’ll be back soon.”

“Booo,”

Ultimately too tired to protest, you yawn and crawl out of your bed, scrambling to the shower after rummaging through tubs of clean, old clothes in Bachiras’s room and picking whatever you think will fit.

You shower, scrubbing yourself inside and out. You feel apologetic using the products in the shower as you scrape cum out of yourself as best you can and scrub your body. Layers of sweat and slick between your thighs have dried down and feel incredibly unpleasant now that your sober and your heat is mostly settled or it will be for another few days. You’re thankful that Bachira’s childhood home is the second most familiar place in your life as it allows you to get clean in hot water without feeling awkward.

Once you’re cleaned, you dry off and borrow Bachira’s lotion - rubbing into your skin and taking care of your appearance best you can. You examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, feeling sudden humiliation at your face. You’re practically glowing, and you reek of Bachira and fucked out omega even after the bath. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and thanking all higher powers that you don’t have to see your parents for a few more days.

After gathering yourself in the bathroom, you check on Bachira one more time in his room and smile as sleeps softly before slipping downstairs.

His mom hasn’t returned yet. Her shoes, jacket, and other belongings aren’t in the house and her gifts are where you left them. You feel thankful about that as your eyes search for your bag, still sitting on the couch where you left it. Shuffling through it, you pop some heat medication dry before doing anything else.

You grab it. It still has some battery left, left on DND. You check the time only, deciding you can swipe later. Heading out the door quickly, you make sure to lock up using the key underneath the mat for your quick trip to 7/11.

A brisk walk later in the frostbitten air, you enter the convenience store. A bored looking cashier nods at you as you smile flatly in return.

You pick up a couple of things. XXL condoms, juice and soda water, some snacks and ramen - along with some easy hot foods that can keep you both alive until you can get a better meal. Bachira has a decent appetite but you don’t think he’ll be up for a while to eat proper. He likes to sleep in during vacations.

“Ah, excuse—Bachira?”

Your eyes widen as you meet eyes with the familiar stranger and his friend. You know both of these people.

You could not have possibly met them at a worse time.

“Isagi-kun…” You bow, awkwardly thinking of what ways you could end your life right there in the 7/11. “And this is…?”

“Rin Itoshi. He prefers Rin,”

“Rin-kun,”

The taller, brooding one gives you a look, crinkling his nose a little. You want to die. Your gaze turns to Isagi which is not much better as he’s wearing the worst shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen in your life.

“I see. Nice to meet you Rin-kun,” You say, looking away, “What are you two doing here? This is me and Bachira’s hometown.”

“We’re supposed to visit him in a couple of days actually but decided to do a little sight-seeing first. There’s more of us but they’re asleep at the hotel.”

You just nod, silence stretching between you before Isagi breaks it.

“I’m glad the two of you made up,” He says. “When did you guys start to reconcile? I always felt really guilty after the whole mall incident. Glad to see you both doing well,”

Your brain moves too slow to lie. “Uh. Last night was the first time we saw each other in a few years,”

His eyes widen. “So the picture he posted was…?”

You squint. “What picture?”

Isagi makes a guilty face, unsure of what to do. Before you can ask, Rin, pulls his phone out and shows you something.

It’s you and Bachira in bed with you asleep in his arms - your bitemark and visible tattoo showing in the image as his hand cradles the back of your head while you’re cuddling him in your sleep.. You’re both mostly covered by the sheets. The only caption is an emoticon and you’re not tagged. You blink, wiping your eyes. It’s so like him, you aren’t sure if you should laugh or cry. You sigh deeply instead.

“You didn’t know?”

“Haven’t checked my phone since..” You trail off. He’s so reckless. “Thanks for uh… showing me. I’m gonna head back but you and your team mates should come visit sometime. I cook hotpot for New Years so it’d be nice to have you all.”

Isagi smiles amicably, politely ignoring the situation. You’re thankful your partners friend has so much tact unlike he himself. “Of course. I’ll ask Bachira for your info. Keep in touch”

“Of course. Good luck on the World Cup qualifiers.”

They both thank you for that before you turn and depart with whatever left of your dignity.

You check your phone on the way back to his place, seeing your notifications in shambles. Fifty messages total, some from family and most from friends congratulating you. You ignore all of them for now, especially the ones from your brother - not willing to know what they say.

In your despair, you don’t notice the new pair of shoes when you open the unlocked door of Bachira’s childhood home either.

“Oh!” Yu-sans voice is just as welcoming as it always is as you stare at her in the doorway awe-struck. She smiles at you incredibly knowingly as a new wave of mortification sinks in. “You’re back. Meguru is in the shower.”

“Ah,”

She gives you a long grin, letting the silence settle first before breaking out into laughter so loud it startles you. You can feel your body grow hot with shame, wishing the world would open from the ground up and swallow you.

“You know I always thought something like this would happen eventually,” She hums, prepping the flowers you bought last night for a vase. “I’m grateful it happened when you were both adults at least.”

“Yu-obasan..”

“Oh don’t be so cold. Yu-san is fine. Or maybe kaa-san now that you’re both together.” She hums. “Anything but oba-san is fine. Makes me feel old. You know that.”

You make an embarrassed face, sighing as you set your things down at the couch. You wanted to do stuff like this in order. Though you never really imagined you and Bachira together, you always thought for a serious relationship you’d have more of yourself together.

“Uh,” You flush as you sit at the counter. Yu-san gives you a small smile, head tilted to one side as she arranges the flowers you’ve bought her. “It’s late to do this, but uhm… thank you for giving birth to Meguru and for taking care of me as if I were your own child all this time.” You feel your ears turn hot as you say the rest. “I promise to take good care of Meguru and you for as long as I live, any way I can and I hope you can accept our relationship and give us your blessing.”

You pause, afraid to look up for a minute until the silence stretches on for a touch too long. When you look up, she’s smiling. Grinning. Meguru looks so much like her. Her laughter bubbles through the room airily like champagne.

She comes around to hug you tight, startling you from where you sit, her hand on your head. “Asking my blessing… I don’t know how my Meguru got so lucky to find such a responsible kid. Of course you have it. As if you need to ask. Please do take good care of him and yourself. This is your home too, okay?”

You smile before being startled by another familiar voice. “Uwah, I go shower and you’re having a hug without me.”

“Come join us then!”

“Yay! Group hug!”

Bachira hollers as he squeezes you and his mom in a hug, suffocating you. It’s incredibly embarrassing so in some ways it feels incredibly familiar. They’re really too similar some times.

When they pull away, Yu-san plays a motherly kiss to both your face and Bachira’s. “I’m going to go put these up in my room and hang out in the studio for a bit. You two should have a date, alright? It’s rare you have time like this.”

“’Kay,” Bachira says, watching her walk up stairs before shouting. “Love you!”

“Love you too!”

You watch her disappear up the steps before seeing Bachira again sobered. He smiles at you lovingly, but you pout - suddenly remembering this morning.

“Ehhh?? Why are you making that face? Shouldn’t we be super lovey-dovey right now?”

“The picture you posted,” You say, tugging at his shirt with your head down. “That’s too sudden. You’re a big athlete now, and—“

“So? There’s no one for me but you. I don’t care who knows. I want everyone in the entire world to know even though I don’t want them to actually see you.” He murmurs, crowding into your space. “I want everyone to know you’re mine. Don’t be mad, okay?”

“I spoil you too much,” You say, because it’s true and it’s enough to make you not mad at all.

He kisses you then. He tastes like the fruity toothpaste kids use and home when he does pulling back with a warm smile. You feel flush but keep your eyes on his face.

“It’s the first time we’ve kissed just to kiss,” You hum. He smiles mischievously.

“The second time, silly.”

When the realization dawns on you, you gasp - smacking his chest in shock in dismay.

You thought he blacked out for that kiss when you were seventeen! Bachira breaks out into giggles above you.

“Meguru!” You exclaim, feeling huffy as he pulls you into his arms and begs for forgiveness.

Meguru. Homesickness makes you ache, his name in your mouth the only remedy.

Meguru. Your one and only.

#bachira x reader #bluelock x reader #bachira smut #bluelock smut #writing tag #fics for gaza #omegaverse cw

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claymoresword · 7 months ago

Text

The Queen And Her Knight | Chp: 7

Alicent Hightower x Knight Fem!Reader

Summary: Alicent Hightower against her better judgement, falls in love with her sworn protector. Can she bear to fight her feelings or will she finally just give in?

Wordcount: 4.2k

Pairing: Alicent x Reader

Warnings: power imbalance, angst, fluff, smut, fingering, g!p reader, dialogue heavy, mentions of alcoholism

Note: you asked and after a year i finally delivered! this one definitely moves the plot forward but i also managed to get carried away with the smut somehow lol. if you wish to skip it just keep a lookout for the asterisks

enjoy!

Taglist: @blackbirdv98 @flaiire1805 @alicentfangirl @memarrymilf @thegayassbit-ch @vantestark @hauntedfictionland @livinginafantasysposts @baddie-on-a-mission-xx @evolutionsglory @darthtargnister @dxrewclf @rozmrazaradelfinow @wlwfanfictionss @karsonromanoff

You hold up the crown for all to see. The aged relic is a circlet of valyrian steel, set with blood-red rubies. Although only few remained, the squared cut gemstones were still a captivating sight to regard nonetheless.

The crown was once worn by Aegon The Conqueror – it seems fitting that it now be passed down to his namesake.

The dragon pit is engulfed in trepidation enough to stifle, as you gently place the crown upon Aegon's head.

It fits like a glove. A reassuring and altogether unsettling prospect.

“Let the Seven bear witness, Aegon Targaryen, is the true heir to the Iron Throne.” A declaration that rattles the silence. Your voice travels far, it ricochets off the towering walls and high ceilings.

You watched as the High Septon assisted the King back onto his feet before bowing at him in respect.

Your hand firmly resting on the hilt of your sword as you incline your head the same way when Aegon glances at you.

As he shifts his stare toward his mother, Alicent performs a curtsey. Followed by the same from Helaena.

Aemond holds his older brother's gaze for a moment before inclining his head in respect as well.

“All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second Of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord Of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” The High Septon announces as Aegon turns to face the mass of people watching the ceremony.

“Aegon the king!” You call out, and soon the crowd erupts, loud bursts of shouts and claps, all celebrating their new king.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

While you stood in the dowager queen's bedchambers, your expression twists incredulously as Alicent endlessly fusses at your breastplate. Soon, moving behind you to fasten your white cloak.

“Your Grace, I can manage this on my own, truly.” You insist once more, feeling rather queer. A queen should not be tending to you, in fact it ought to be the opposite.

Alicent remains determined, and stubborn.

“Hush.” She scolds, and you say nothing else.

“There we are.” She says, smoothing out your green tunic. After accepting the post as Lord Commander, you have since abandoned your own house colors.

Even the breastplate you have chosen for today was a foreign one, no longer the golden kraken, now intricately carved with the sigil of House Hightower instead.

Uncanny as it may be, you could not deny that it was beautifully made, and generally easier on the eyes compared to your old armor, it also fits far more comfortably.

You catch Alicent's eyes upon you, now suddenly feeling exposed, by the way she was observing your frame.

Shameless and brazen; you can't help the way it stirs something within you.

“Alicent.” You snatch her attention abruptly, forcing back your amusement.

“Hm?” The dowager queen replies, lost for a moment. It seems she only realizes she has been caught when your eyes meet. A visible blush rapidly creeps up to her face in a way that makes your heart flutter.

“You seem to be eyeing me like a meal to devour.” You point out, causing Alicent to avert her gaze entirely from embarrassment.

Gods, how desperately you wish to kiss her right now.

“You look exceptional in green,” The queen utters, her hand slips up your forearm.

In truth, her admittance doesn't surprise you.

Fascinating how she can be transparent one moment and entirely unreadable the next.

This notion alone draws you in beyond reason. With Alicent, you are always acting on pure desire and instinct.

She has completely enchanted you.

“Is that right?” You ask regardless, moving closer.

Alicent nods, her bottom lip set in between her teeth. The sight of her like this always drove you mad with the urge to ravage her here and now.

The older woman instinctively slips her arms around your neck. It takes all of your control to only place a hand on the small of her back and nowhere else, trailing tender kisses along her jaw.

“Do you enjoy seeing me in armor, Your Grace?” You whisper.

As you part her hair away from her neck, you allow your lips to meet the shell of her ear. Relishing in the way Alicent trembles at your touch.

“I do, very much.” She answers, and as you pull away, Alicent does quite the opposite, leaning in to capture your lips with her own.

Open-mouthed and eager, she kisses you with enough fervor and passion to leave you aching for more.

You can hardly help the way your hand slips lower to squeeze her rear, pulling her flush against your groin.

Alicent gasps into your mouth at the sensation, now feeling the bulge in your breeches.

She kisses you once more before pulling away, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck to hide her flushed expression.

“Lord Commander.. you are being terribly indecent.” The queen's tone betrays a playfulness, one that exhilarates you.

“I cannot help it, my queen. You drive me half-mad with want.” You remark, as your hand slides up her back in a languid manner.

Alicent exhales against your neck. She pulls you in even closer, welcoming your touch.

“Be safe today.. return to me in one piece.” The other woman utters, you meet her brown eyes, warm and enticing.

“If the Gods will it, I shall.” Your response is likely less than reassuring, but the dowager queen does not say anything to confront this.

Alicent merely occupies herself by tracing along your features delicately with her thumb. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, unable to hide the smirk that tugs at the corners of your mouth, basking in the attention she is giving you.

“Kiss me again.” You ask, and the queen moves to do exactly that, but a knock on the door causes Alicent to abruptly pull away, resuming a proximity.

The suddenness of her action nearly knocks the wind out of you and your smile quickly dissipates.

It aches, in truth, having to sneak around like this. You mislike feeling like a dirty secret– the queen's mistress.

Or perhaps her whore.

“Come.” Alicent calls, she composes herself as she straightens out her gown. A heartbeat before her father enters.

Alicent's demeanor shifts in a way you have been privy to in the past. It appears effortless the way her expression sets impassively, her hands clasped firmly over her stomach.

Now she is queen Alicent, again. No longer the woman you had been kissing just moments prior.

Otto has his jaw tightened in a similar fashion, studying you in a way that forces you to shift uncomfortably, despite yourself. “Lord Commander, it is time for us to depart.” He finally utters.

You nod, reaching for your sword belt. “Very good, m’lord.”

As you fastened the belt upon yourself, you observed as Alicent retrieved what appears to be a piece of parchment from her bedside table. The dowager hands it over to her father, whispering something to him that is intelligible to your ears.

Even as you move slightly closer under the guise of arming your steel, you are still unable to make out the sudden, and evidently secretive conversation being had between them.

You vow to sate your curiousity and confront Alicent about this later; after you have successfully delivered terms to princess Rhaenyra.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Your arrival at Dragonstone was expectedly greeted with nothing but asperity– the threat of blood shed felt imminent as you stood on the bridge.

Your army, alongside Otto's, staring down the few men who remain loyal to the Rogue Prince.

Rhaenyra Targaryen has evidently fashioned these men to act as her newly appointed Queensguard.

The notion of an agonizing death looms over all of you as her large dragon remained perched a few feet away.

Syrax is silent– as if she possessed the capacity to understand the situation at hand.

You could sense the ground beneath you rumble every time the dragon took a breath, sending a never ending chill down your spine.

“You all are traitors to the realm.” Queen Rhaenyra declares, her late father's golden crown perched upon her head.

“King Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, in his wisdom and desire for peace, is offering terms. Confess Aegon as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne.” Otto pauses, and Rhaenyra only acknowledges the statement with a scowl, before a hardened expression takes over her features once more.

You observed as Daemon scoffed. His grip on his steel continued to advise you to keep a firm hold on your own sword.

“In exchange, His Grace will confirm your possession of Dragonstone. It will pass to your true born son Jacaerys upon your death.” The Hand offers, generous in any other circumstance– if it was not Rhaenyra's birthright that has been stolen from her.

“Lucerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark, and all the lands and holding of house Velaryon.”

“Your sons by prince Daemon, will also be given places of high honor at court. Aegon the younger as the king's squire, Viserys as his cupbearer. Finally, the king in his good grace will pardon any knight or Lord who conspired against his ascent.” Otto finishes, and the rogue prince is quick to retaliate.

“I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shields and cups for your drunken usurper cunt of a king.” Daemon sneers, yet you notice Otto's resolve, he remains unfazed, confident.

One you utterly lacked, in truth. You kept an eye on a second dragon, red and much larger than Syrax, orbiting the sky.

“Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne. He wears the conqueror's crown, wields the conqueror's sword, has the conqueror's name. He was anointed by a Septon of the Faith before the eyes of thousands. Every single symbol of legitimacy belongs to him.” Otto claims, unwavering.

This works to agitate Rhaenyra enough, her Lord husband appears more than prepared to behead any one of you currently standing before him.

“Then there is Stark, Tully, Baratheon. Houses who have also received and are at present, considering generous terms from their king.” The Hand adds salt to an already gaping wound.

“Stark, Tully and Baratheon have all sworn allegiance to me. As have your House, y/n.” Rhaenyra states, addressing you directly, taking you by surprise for a moment before you found the sense to meet her hard stare.

As you remain silent, Rhaenyra continues.

“I understand if you don't recall, you were still suckling at your mother's teats when your father bent the knee.” The Targaryen remarks, whether intended as a jab to your pride, it matters not, as you refuse to feel it.

“But he swore his allegiance to me, nonetheless.”

You shift your weight from one foot to another, hand resting on the pommel of your sword. “I am not here on my father's behalf.” You respond curtly.

“Then who are you here for?” Daemon inquires, he quickly continues before you can conjure a reply.

“Are you so cunt-stricken by that whore you call your queen that you are willing to abandon a sworn oath? Where is your honor?” He taunts, and this time you do feel it, like a lance to the gut.

You open your mouth to respond, but Otto quickly interjects before things get the chance to escalate further.

“Grand Maester.” He calls, extending his arm. Maester Orwyle then passes him a piece of parchment, the same one that you had witnessed Alicent give to her father in her bedchambers.

Your confusion sets in once more as Otto bravely advances forward, passing the same parchment to Rhaenyra.

The queen, in her fury, snatches it from Otto, unfolding it to discover its contents.

It was only then you noticed that it was not a letter– rather, an illustration. A page torn from a book.

“What the fuck is this?” Daemon curses, ironically sharing your sentiment.

Rhaenyra remained silent as she stared at the page in her hands, her expression still unreadable.

“Queen Alicent has not forgotten the love you once had for each other. She eagerly awaits your answer.” Otto utters, and your face falls once you recognize the tears that escaped Rhaenyra's eyes.

A sinking feeling that you've been trying to set aside all day, re-emerges, inexplicably, you reach for your sword.

“She can have her answer now stuffed in her father's mouth, along with his withered cock. Let's end this mummer's farce.” The rogue prince hisses, as he unsheathes his steel, you immediately do the same.

In the next few moments the noise of metal scraping against scabbard charges the air as the rest of your soldiers along with Daemon's draw their weapons.

“Ser Erryk, bring me Lord Hightower so I may take the pleasure of killing him myself.” The prince consort's command is broken by the sound of Syrax shrieking, flailing her body violently.

You flinch, but do your best to ignore the incessant pounding in your chest as you gripped your sword tighter.

Then, by a miracle, Rhaenyra subdues her uncle with a single word. “No.” She declares, Daemon is forced to set down his sword. He does it begrudgingly, and you slowly do the same.

“King's Landing will have my answer on the morrow.” The queen utters sharply before turning away, disappearing through her guards.

You stand frozen in place.

Somehow, no blood was spilled today. The simple prospect of Alicent's care for Rhaenyra seemed enough for the Targaryen to forsake her own claim to the throne.

It appears you shall return to Alicent safely, as she asked. You should be relieved, and yet you feel nothing of the sort.

The thought of the dowager queen welcoming you home, with a warm embrace, doesn't fill you with a sense of joy like it usually would.

It only makes you ill.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Since returning to the Red Keep you had chosen to keep away, sequestered in your quarters. Only your thoughts and a flagon of strongwine to keep you company.

You realize that you ought to visit Alicent, assure her of your safety, but still, you couldn't bear it, not today.

Endlessly replaying the moment in your head, Otto's words pollute your thoughts.

Alicent has not forgotten the love she once held for Rhaenyra, that much is evident.

So where does that leave you?

You are no longer certain you even possess a space in Alicent's life, let alone in her heart.

She loves Rhaenyra, and you are only a mistress.

You wipe away your tears, it is no use crying, you are simply mourning a fantasy. Queen Alicent is beyond your reach, she always has been.

As you continued to lose the battle to your anxieties, you fail to hear the main door of your bedchambers creaking as it gets pushed open.

Alicent catches you throwing your head back as you emptied the contents of your goblet. Her expression displaying palpable concern as she approaches you.

“Why are you drinking?” She inquires, and you scramble to your feet, perplexed in the way she somehow managed to enter your chambers without you realizing it.

“Your Grace.” You address her, inclining your head as you propped your hand against the back of the chair.

Alicent appears taken aback by your formality, nonetheless she moves to touch your cheek, but halts immediately when she notices the way you recoiled.

“What is the matter?” The older woman asks carefully, studying you with such concern that it weakens your very being.

How could she possibly place you above Rhaenyra Targaryen?

“I was convinced that I was going to die at Dragonstone.” Your voice breaks.

“But you did not, thank the Gods.” Alicent utters in relief, she grabs your arm, still unaware of your true grievance.

“The only reason my men and I were spared was because Rhaenyra commanded it as such.” You state, pausing for a moment to steady your breathing.

“and, she only did so because of you.” You accuse, and Alicent straightens her back, retracting her hand once more.

You mourn her touch, but force yourself to look into her eyes as you await a response.

When nothing comes, you decide to speak again.

“Do you love her?” You ask boldly, prepared for any response, but the one Alicent gives you is barely anything at all.

“I–” She stutters after a prolonged silence, and you scoff, moving past her to sit on the edge of your bed.

Alicent takes large strides after you, eager to explain herself.

“Rhaenyra and I, we were children together, we did everything together. She was my closest friend.” The dowager queen starts as she moves to stand directly in front of you.

“Perhaps I was in love, at one point. But that was an entirely different lifetime, y/n. A life I do not even recognize.” She admits, and you finally look up at her.

Alicent tentatively wipes away the tear that managed to escape your eye.

Despite yourself, your lips meet the palm of her hand as you hold it close to your face.

The dowager queen smiles.

“I am in love with you. Only you.” Alicent reassures, and your heart soars. Whether it is a lie to spare your feelings or a vulnerable truth, you are still thankful she cares enough to utter the words.

For now, that is enough.

“I love you too, so much.” You respond, still gazing up at her.

Alicent's auburn locks fell loosely down her shoulders like liquid fire. Her white nightdress, although modestly crafted, still managed to highlight every delicate curve and dip of her body.

She looks utterly breathtaking.

The queen snaps you out of your trance when she leans down to meet your lips with her own. A searing kiss that immediately leaves you breathless.

Alicent whimpers softly as your tongue enters her mouth, overcome with an urge to feel her, you place a firm hand on her waist, guiding her to straddle your lap.

The dowager does so with no protest, her knees quickly settling in between your hips on the bed.

Her core snug against your clothed groin, she feels so warm, so intoxicating.

Alicent grinds against your lap instinctively, causing you groan into the kiss. The queen seemingly overtaken with desires of her own, pulls away to begin trailing open mouthed kisses from the shell of your ear, down to your neck.

Your breathing quickens.

“Fuck– I cannot believe how perfect you are.” You say, and Alicent leans back to look at you. She does so comfortably with your firm hand supporting her.

“I am far from it,” She argues, and you are quick to shake your head in disagreement, guiding her close once more by the nape of her neck.

“You have no idea how ready I am to commit treason just to prove you wrong, my queen.” You remark, and the sound of Alicent's giggle fills you with hope for the first time in days, before she connects your lips once more.

As the kiss deepens your hand wanders the dowager's frame, almost like second nature, you slip it underneath her nightgown, feeling goosebumps form on her thighs from your touch.

You squeezed her rear, indecently causing Alicent to grind on your lap once more. Swallowing her gasp of pleasure as she does so.

“Y/n..” She utters against your lips, urging you on.

Soon you glide your hand towards her inner thigh, inching even closer to her core. “Can I?” Your ask is met with an eager nod. Alicent kisses you again, harsh and wanting.

“Touch me.” She says, and you do just that, finding your way to her sex. You begin to add pressure with your palm, causing Alicent's hips to buck against your touch.

She is dripping for you already– meeting your touch desperately. As you continue to move your hand against her sex, Alicent's gasps and mewls grow louder, she results in burying her face into the crook of your neck.

“Gods–” You marvel, kissing her shoulder before prodding a finger at her entrance.

The queen grips your shoulder tighter, nodding profusely as words continue to fail her.

You take it as permission to enter her. Doing so with two fingers, your breath hitches at the feeling of her walls contracting deliciously against your digits.

You would kill to feel her do the same around your cock.

“Yes, oh, Gods–” Alicent pants as you continue to pump in and out of her. Less than a minute has passed and it seems she is on the verge of release already, muttering incoherently against your ear.

She squeezes your fingers once more, pulling an involuntary groan from you, she is so wet you can feel her dripping down your hand, causing you to nearly soil your breeches.

“Come, come for me, beautiful..” You coax curving your fingers inside of Alicent, and that is all it took for her to fall apart completely.

She climaxes around your fingers with a cry, the sight of her writhing on top of you was truly the most captivating thing you have ever witnessed. You cock pulses with need, straining painfully against the fabric of your breeches.

Alicent's chest is heaving violently as she meets your gaze once more, her eyes dark amidst her pleasure.

“Thank you, for that.” She mutters before kissing you deeply, and you can't help but chuckle.

“No, my love, I should be thanking you.” You insist, and Alicent cares not to argue at this moment. Her lips meet the base of your jaw, a confidence overcomes her when she touches your breasts before moving her hand further south, squeezing your cock.

She gapes at the sensation, with a look of palpable arousal that again, nearly causes you to finish right then and there.

“You are so hard..” Alicent remarks in awe, squeezing you harder, earning a guttural noise from yourself.

“Yes, all because of you.” You confer, and the dowager bites her lip to mask her delight.

The sight drove you mad, as it always does. Quickly grabbing hold of her nightdress, Alicent allows you to lift it over her head.

You toss the garment carelessly across the room. Alicent moans anew as your mouth makes contact with her bare and sensitive breasts. You begin licking and sucking as though your life depended on it.

Another shudder of pleasure nearly immobilizes the Alicent before she grips a fistful of your locks, harshly pulling your head back.

She ground her hips again, her weeping sex pressing down on your hard cock.

“Please, I want to feel it inside me. I want to feel all of you.” Alicent pleads, and the prospect alone makes you lightheaded.

You don't plan to deny either of you the pleasure any longer.

Alicent lets out a yelp in surprise as you flip your positions, placing her flat on her back as you quickly remove your tunic, finally fumbling with the laces of your breeches before removing them as well.

The queen's stare falls onto the large shaft in between your legs, she reaches out to touch your cock, but you quickly grab ahold of her hand, pinning it against the bed as you settle on top of her.

Alicent whines in protest, arching her back helplessly, causing your breasts to press up against her own.

“Please,” The dowager queen begs once more, and you smirk with a sense of triumph, in this moment, you truly believe that Alicent is yours to worship and love entirely.

“So impatient.” You tease, placing a chaste kiss against her cheek.

If Alicent aimed to respond, she was not given the opportunity to, as you thrust your hips forward, skillfully sheathing yourself inside of her.

Alicent releases a strangled moan at the sensation, whimpering like a maiden as she grows accustomed to your size. Her nails dig into your back, she lifts her leg to wrap around your waist, inevitably pulling you even deeper inside of her as you begin to move your hips once more.

“Fuck– oh my Gods..” Alicent curses, motivating you to move harder against her, with every stroke, her cunt welcomes your cock eagerly. Squeezing your girth in a way you've never experienced before.

Alicent eagerly intertwines your hands, the intimate noises of your coupling filling the room.

You groan with every thrust, feeling dangerously close to your release, you kiss her once before speaking.

“Alicent, I– I won't last much longer.” You admit, and Alicent moans at your words, anxious to witness your release.

“Don't hold back, darling.” She coaxes, letting her leg fall away from your waist, you pump inside of her again and then once more before pulling out.

Alicent continues to hold your hand as your entire body tenses, she watches your strained expression as you reach your peak.

She gasps as your seed spills onto her belly.

Your breathing grows erratic as you ride out the shockwaves from your release.

The feeling of Alicent's soothing hand caressing your forearm manages to coax you back to reality.

Alicent chuckles lightly as you collapse next to her, attempting to gain your bearings.

The queen turns to face you, placing a lingering kiss on your stomach, before doing the same on your chest.

You smile weakly, threading your fingers through her auburn locks, still feeling as though you are in a dream.

One you never wish to wake from.

“I love you..” You declare, just above a whisper.

Alicent beams, her thumb tracing across your bottom lip. “I love you too, y/n.”

#alicent x reader #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower smut #rhaenyra x reader #g!p reader #g!p #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen

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before-it-felt-like-a-sin · 2 months ago

Note

hiiii can you write about precrash nat and reader. reader moves to wiskayok and moves to nats trailer park. her and nat don't really talk much because reader attracts more of a popular crowd. reader hides the fact that she lives in a trailer park from her new popular friends. reader joins the soccer team and starts to become more friendly with nat. one day after practice nat offers reader a ride home and she accepts. nat and reader become closer after that. reader develops a crush on nat but doesn't like that either because she feels like its wrong. readers friends notice that shes been hanging out with nat and getting rides with her and they dont like that so they follow nat and reader and realize that reader lives in a trailer park. so the next day they bully tf out of reader and tell everyone. reader goes to nat for comfort and thats when reader reveals her feelings for nat

lololol this is my first time requesting so i hope its good

What a Shame

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem! reader

5.9k words

Warning(s): Bullying, drug use (weed), internalized homophobia, slut shaming, blatant homophobia, bi! Nat, ambiguously queer reader

Quick note that I know almost nothing about sports in general, let alone soccer (I haven't played sports in 4 years and I haven't even touched a soccer ball since 2nd grade)

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

Moving right before your senior year of high school was not your idea of a good time. Moving to a trailer park right before the start of your senior year was your nightmare.

Sure, you knew why you'd moved. Your dad had lost his job, and your mom wasn't in the picture. So, moving it was. Hopefully, your dad would find a new job, and at least here no one would know what happened. You didn't have much going for you, but you had that.

The only downside was, in fact, the trailer.

But you were determined to make the best of it. Make friends, get good grades, and not let anyone, literally anyone, find out where you lived. You just had to make it through one year. How hard could it be?

One small hitch in that plan was Natalie Scatorccio. She knew exactly where you lived. Because apparently the two of you were neighbors. Which was... not ideal.

Somehow, though, you'd made it through the entire first semester without word getting out about your housing situation. Your friends had no idea, and somehow you even managed to be somewhat popular.

"I'm thinking about joining the soccer team," you say offhandedly at lunch one day.

"I mean, it's not a bad idea. You played at your old school, right?" One of your friends asks, looking at you.

"Yeah, I was the goalie. I've heard they already have one, but I don't mind being second string." You shrug, picking at your lunch.

"Doesn't hurt to try! Plus, the team's like, really good. Not like you have anything to lose. Besides, you're probably better than the current goalie. I heard she's a total d-" Before she can finish the sentence, the bell for the end of lunch rings.

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

Two days later, you're standing on the soccer field, listening to the head coach go over the rules and expectations for tryouts. Nothing you haven't heard before, so it's pretty harmless when you tune him out to scope out the players already on the team.

And- Shit, was that..?

Natalie. Your Neighbor.

Because of course it was. Honestly, she didn't seem like the type to play sports, let alone soccer. But you knew that you probably didn't look like a soccer player either, so it wasn't the most valid assumption.

Soon enough, you're being ushered into groups based on the position you're trying out for. There's only one other girl trying out for goalie, so you're fairly sure that you'll make the team. If only to play backup to the redhead that you'd seen in a couple of your classes.

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

Tryouts go about as smoothly as expected, and you're even more confident about making the team by the end. The poor girl who was also trying out had clearly never played soccer in her life. You almost felt bad for her. Almost.

You weren't the best at any sort of dribbling or shooting drill, but that wasn't exactly necessary for the position of goalie. What you lacked in those skills was made up for in agility and your goalkeeping abilities.

Officially, though, you don't know if you've gotten the position for another week. Which, fine. It's not like you needed practices to start immediately or anything. You were just kind of bored. And maybe a little sick of your friends. But you could wait. It would at least give you time to prepare to interact with Natalie at practice.

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

Two weeks later, you find yourself on the soccer field after school. As expected, you made the team. Also as expected, you weren't a starter. Which wasn't the worst possibility. At least you had made the team. And Van, the starting goalie, seemed really funny. She wasn't a bitch to you, either. Which was honestly unexpected. since you were her backup. Certainly seemed nicer than your friends.

Honestly, the whole team seemed nicer than your current friends. Sure, you could already tell that Jackie was going to be a lot to deal with, and Taissa was a bit intimidating. But that's better than complete assholes. Even Natalie at least seemed indifferent to you.

You're standing out on the field, talking to some other new recruits. And by talking, it was more like standing there and listening to them talk to each other. Almost everyone else had moved up from JV, while you were the only new student on the team. Everyone else knew each other, it seemed. It was kind of expected, though, and you had gotten used to being the new girl.

None of the other seniors really talked to you, each of them already having formed friend groups. You could see the factions now. Lottie, Taissa, and Van were all talking together. About what, you had no idea. Shauna and Jackie were practically attached at the hip, so there was no way you were going to be able to get in the middle of that. Natalie was nowhere to be seen, which didn't exactly surprise you. Which left Laura Lee, a sweet, devout Christian girl. You could work with that.

Before you could approach Laura Lee, though, Lottie walks up to you.

"Hi, you're the new girl, right? I'm Lottie, the starting center back." she's smiling, which is a good sign. It's a bit odd that she's talking to you, though, considering her reputation as the richest girl in school.

"Oh, hi. I'm y/n. Second string goalie." You smile back at her, trying to appear more confident than you're feeling. Despite being somewhat popular, you weren't really a fan of trying to navigate talking to new people, which is why you stuck with your friends despite you not always getting along with them.

"No offense, but I kind of already know who you are. Not everyone transfers schools their senior year." Lottie seems almost smug, but it's more confidence than anything. She knows how to charm people, that's for sure.

It feels like she knows exactly why you moved to Wiskayok, which is odd. No one knows why you moved except for you and your dad. And you certainly didn't tell her.

Despite the weird aura coming from her, Lottie actually seems really nice. As much as you want to trust her immediately, you know its probably best to keep your guard up, at least for the time being. Maybe if you get closer, you can explain your living situation.

Suddenly, you wonder if the Yellowjackets soccer team knows that Nat lives in the trailer park. It's a decently small town, and you assume that most of these girls have lived in Wiskayok for their entire lives. How did they take it when Nat revealed where she lived, if she did? Do they care? Has everyone just always known?

Lottie's looking at you kind of weird, and you realize you must have zoned out for longer than you thought. Before you can say anything, though, Coach Martinez has everyone pair up for drills. Lottie grabs your arm before you even have a second to think about who you'll pair with.

"You're with me, new girl. Van and Tai always pair up and leave me to partner with Nat, but not today. You're stuck with me." She's smiling, which puts you at ease. She's not as intimidating as she seems from afar.

She starts passing you the ball, and you silently wonder if maybe you're not supposed to be doing this drill, since you're a goalie. But Van's passing with Taissa, so you don't say anything. Besides, it's not like you're the coach.

You spend the rest of the drills paired with Lottie, until you have to be separated for your respective positions. It's weird, only having Van there with you. She's really talkative, though, which is a good distraction from your general nerves surrounding practice

"You've played before, right?" She's talking to you now, as you're shuffling back and forth for agility training.

"Yeah, all through high school," you reply, trying to focus on your footwork.

"How's it feel being second string your senior year?" She's clearly not being mean or insensitive. She honestly sounds a bit teasing, and you can appreciate that.

"Better than nothing." She laughs at that, and you feel like you won something. All of these girls seemed so nice. Maybe you'd be able to start ditching your friends.

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An hour and a half later, you're starting on your walk home. Silently, you're cursing yourself for showering in the locker room. You had hoped your dad would be able to pick you up, but he was working late. Which you appreciated, of course. But it was a little annoying.

Suddenly a shitty, old Toyota pulls up next to you. One that you recognize from the parking lot at school and the trailer down the street. Natalie.

"Need a ride?" She's looking at you through the open window, looking simultaneously bored and smug. Part of you wants to refuse, tell her to fuck off and leave you alone. But she doesn't seem to be pitying you, just genuinely asking if you want a ride home.

So, instead of ignoring her and walking to your trailer, you get in the damn car. Its not like she doesn't already know where you live.

Natalie doesn't say anything as she puts the car back into gear and starts driving. You're grateful for that, not exactly wanting to make small talk with her. She wasn't exactly the type that you'd normally hang around. Too rough around the edges, has too much of a reputation. Your friends wouldn't approve.

Nirvana is playing over the car's shitty speakers, and it's so typical of Natalie. You barely know the girl, yet you couldn't have guessed her music choices with more accuracy.

She's pulling up next to your trailer, and she looks over at you as you get out of the car.

"From now on, I'll drive you home." Natalie leaves no room for arguing, and you're not sure that you want to. Sure, she's not exactly someone you'd choose to spend a lot of time with. But she's not terrible, and driving home with Natalie definitely beats walking home by yourself.

You just give her a nod in response, not exactly sure how to react to a statement like that. And she wasn't exactly giving you an opportunity to say no.

Nat drives off, down the street to her own trailer, and you walk into yours.

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A month of soccer practice and rides home with Nat after, and the two of you are actually starting to become friends. The first two weeks, neither of you spoke, opting to just listen to whatever was on the radio. That is, until you finally got bored and started talking to her around the third week. Nothing crazy, just stuff about the team.

At this point, though, you've started talking about yourselves. What you like to do, how you feel about certain people. Nat's funny, and sarcastic, and honestly just someone you really like being around.

"Jackie's been driving me crazy this week. I get that our first game is on Saturday, but come on. It's not like I'm slacking off on purpose." She doesn't seem genuinely pissed off, just a bit annoyed. You have noticed that Jackie puts more pressure on Nat than almost anyone else on the team.

"Did you do something to piss her off?" you ask, looking at Nat as she drives.

"I mean, I showed up to homeroom high on Tuesday. But that doesn't mean I'm slacking at practice."

"I mean, I guess I can see why that would piss her off. It is kind of unwarranted, though. You've been practicing just as hard as everyone else."

She nods at that, and you fall into another comfortable silence for a few little while.

"Speaking of being high..." Natalie trails off, and you get a little giddy, although you don't show it. You'd been hoping that she would want to hang out outside of your car rides.

When you give her a little nod, she grins, looking triumphant. Clearly, she wanted to be around you just as much as you wanted to be around her.

Instead of dropping you off at your trailer like usual, she brings you to hers.

"My mom's probably asleep or staring at the TV, so we won't have to worry about her." Natalie gets out of the car, gesturing for you to join her. She doesn't say anything about her dad, and you know why, even if no she hasn't told you. It was hard to avoid the rumors, how people would look at her sometimes.

Honestly, it didn't matter to you if the rumors were true or not. Natalie wasn't the sort of person to resort to violence without good reason. And from what you heard, she would've had a very good reason.

You climb out of the car and follow her through the trailer, into her bedroom. It's so Nat, with posters all over the walls, stacks of CD's on her desk and on the floor. A beat-up acoustic guitar sits in the corner, and you make a mental note of it. Clothes are in piles all over the floor, but you honestly couldn't care less about the state of her room. It felt good, to be somewhere lived in. To be around someone that understood your living situation

Natalie sits down on the edge of her bed, smiling at you. The gesture was enough to make you feel a bit more comfortable, and you found yourself sitting down next to her.

"Have you smoked before?" She pulls out an old Altoids container, opening it up to pull out one of the pre-rolled joints inside.

You shake your head no, pulling your legs up on the bed so you can sit more comfortably.

"No. Well, once I took a hit from some guy at a party, but it was shit and I couldn't stop choking."

Nat laughs at that, lighting up the blunt as the two of you talk.

"That's probably because you just took a hit and had no idea what you were doing. Watch what I do." She makes sure that you're looking at her before inhaling the smoke from the blunt, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling. "You're gonna want to cough your first couple of hits. That's normal."

She held the joint out to you, and when you took it, your fingers brushed together. The contact you feel weird, but you chalked it up to the nerves of smoking weed for the first time. This kind of thing wasn't normally something that you'd do.

Tentatively, you brought the blunt to your lips and took a hit. The smoke burned your throat as you inhaled, but you managed to keep from coughing. Nat grins as she notices you holding back a cough, and she holds her hand out for the joint.

You pass it back to her, this time trying to keep your hands from touching. Natalie takes another hit, longer this time, and part of you wants to just stare at her.

As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you immediately snap out of it. You don't want to stare at her, she's your friend. People don't stare at their friends. Get a grip.

Nat holds on to the joint for a little longer this time, taking a couple more hits before she offers it back to you. This time, you get a bit bolder, taking a deeper pull. It takes you a little more effort to keep from coughing, but you manage it.

The two of you stay like that a while, passing the joint back and forth between each other, just enjoying the fuzzy feeling of being high, and enjoying each other's company. At some point, Nat puts a record on, something grungy that you recognize, but don't remember the name of.

You're lying flat on your back in the middle of the floor, and Nat looks down at you, clearly holding back a laugh.

"You doin' okay?" She lightly kicks your shoulder, trying to get you to have some sort of reaction. You nod in response, completely zoned out. The floor just feels so nice.

She looks good, you think. Something about the way she was a bit messy was so beautiful for her. You chalk these thoughts up to the weed, to never really being friends with someone that looks like Nat.

"Can you talk?" Nat's full-on laughing now, obviously finding your position hilarious.

"Do you want me to?"

"Just seeing if you could."

You're not egregiously high or anything, a nice buzz, really. Part of you knows that you should probably go home soon, make sure your dad isn't wondering where you are.

There's just something comforting about Nat's bedroom, about being around someone in the same situation as you. There's no judgement, no fear.

You do end up leaving, eventually. Once your eyes are no longer red and the smell of weed has mostly dissipated. Nat walks you to your trailer, claiming that she's better at defending herself. You don't have it in you to argue. Plus, it's nice that she still wants to spend time with you.

She walks you up to the door, and the two of you stand there awkwardly for a moment, waiting for the other to say something.

"See you tomorrow?" Nat almost looks nervous, like you're going to say no for some reason.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." With that, you smile and walk inside.

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It had been a few weeks since you first smoked with Natalie, and it had become a routine for the two of you. Go to practice, drive to Nat's trailer, and light up.

You should've known your friends would notice at some point.

"How's soccer, y/n?" one of your friends stares pointedly at you, like she knows something. Something you don't even know.

"Oh, it's going really well! The girls on the team are all so nice, and we all play really well together." You stay as natural as possible, trying to gauge what's happening.

"That's sweet," she remarks, in a tone you know means she thinks it's anything but sweet.

"You've been hanging out with the slut a lot recently," another girl chimes in, "Is there something that you wanted to tell us?"

You nearly choke on your water when she says that, and you're sure that you must have misheard her.

"Who?" It takes a moment to compose yourself, looking over at your friend.

"You know who I'm talking about. The burnout? The slut?" When you still look confused, she rolls her eyes, h8uffing at your obliviousness. "Natalie Scatorccio? Pretty sure she's fucked half the school. And it isn't entirely the male half."

Now it's your turn to roll your eyes, but you don't say anything to defend Nat. You know that you should, that she's your friend. But fighting with these girls could cause them to turn on you. And you were hiding too many things for that to happen.

For some reason, your friends don't push further. Why, you're not sure. But you sure aren't going to push it.

Everyone goes back to talking about other things, boyfriends, movies, music. You aren't interested, though. You're too busy thinking about what your friend said. About Nat not just sleeping with guys. Was she gay? She hadn't said anything to you.

Did that mean you had a chance?

Wait. You didn't want a chance with her. You weren't into girls. That was weird. It didn't matter that you felt at home with her, or liked the way she'd laugh at your shitty jokes, or talk about her favorite musicians for hours. You weren't into girls. You weren't into Nat.

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Practice was weird. You kept fucking up, which wasn't at all normal for you. Coach Scott even started yelling at you, which was a blow.

It got so bad that Coach Martinez kept you after practice to run laps, and you expected that Nat would have left by the time you finished. Instead, you found her waiting by her car, looking concerned.

"Hey, are you okay? You seemed really out of it today," she asks, clearly worried about you.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. My friends just said some shit at lunch today, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"What did they say?" And she looks so upset that you want to tell her, but you just can't. You don't want her to confirm that she's gay, but for some reason, you don't want her to tell you she isn't, either.

"Just being assholes. Honestly, I don't know why I'm friends with them. I don't like them very much. Or at all."

Natalie laughs at that, and you feel a little bit better.

"You could, I don't know, not be friends with them anymore?"

"I mean, I could. But you're my only friend besides them. Plus, if I piss 'em off too bad, they'll make my life hell. Not taking that chance."

Nat nods, seemingly understanding.

"Would just hanging out with me all the time really be that bad?" She's obviously joking, but you can't help but imagine, just being around Natalie all the time. Smoking, listening to music, making out-

Wait, what?

There's no way, right? No way that you want to kiss a girl, let alone Nat. Let alone make out with her. You're straight. Always had been, always will be. You were normal. You liked boys. Not girls. Didn't matter how pretty Natalie was. Kissing her was weird. And wrong.

You laugh, trying to shake that image from your head. One person says that Nat may be gay, and all of a sudden you're losing your mind. You aren't gay.

"No, It wouldn't be that bad. Could be kinda fun."

Your mood has lifted significantly from just being in the car with Nat, and you think about what could happen if you just... ditched your friends.

Today is one of the rare days where your dad is home in time for dinner, so Nat drops you off at your own trailer today.

"If they're dicks again, tell me. I'll kick their asses." She's grinning at you, and you stare at her for a moment before it hits you.

You're in love with her. Absolutely whipped. And there's absolutely nothing you can do to stop it.

Instead of a response, you give a tight-lipped smile before basically sprinting into your trailer.

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

Going to school the next day might be the most difficult thing that you've ever done. Even more difficult than pretending everything was normal over dinner with your dad the night before.

At least today, your dad could take you to school, and you didn't have to face Nat. And you didn't have practice that afternoon, so you really didn't have to see her much. Which was ideal. You didn't know how you'd be able to deal with being around her. Especially being alone with her.

Your morning is uneventful, and for once, your friends are actually a good distraction. Talking about new movies, new music, being generally entertaining instead of annoying.

Unfortunately, Nat is still driving you home. And there's nothing you can do to avoid it, unless you want to walk. Which you definitely don't.

You're quiet the whole ride, and you know Natalie can tell that something's off. The good thing about Nat, though, is that she wouldn't push. She had her own secrets, and she didn't expect you to share yours.

"D'you want to smoke?" You want to say yes so badly, to just spend as much time with her as possible. Yet there's this fear that the weed will make you spill your secret, and you just can't do that.

You weren't supposed to like her. You weren't supposed to want her. And there was no way in hell she was ever going to know that you did. Never.

"Can't. I have to study." It's a bad lie, and you know it. Nat does, too. But she doesn't call you on it, even though you can tell that she wants to.

"Yeah, alright. See you, then." By now, you've pulled up to your trailer, and you thank her before getting out of the car. It almost hurt to leave her. There was just no conceivable way that you'd be able to act normal around her, especially if you were high.

As soon as you're in your room, you just lose it. You don't get how one girl can have you undone so quickly, but somehow Nat did it. And you hated it. You weren't supposed to want her like that. It was wrong.

Pulling your blanket up to your shoulders, you just cry. You have no idea how to deal with this, how to make yourself normal again. What would people think? What would your friends think? What would your dad think?

What would Nat think? Would she think you were weird for liking girls? Would she judge you? Would she be grossed out that you were into her, of all people?

Of course, there was the high possibility that she was queer. Sure, she hadn't said anything explicit, but there was a vibe about her. Not to mention all the rumors.

Despite the comfort of Natalie potentially being gay, you couldn't keep from crying. You knew mascara was staining your pillow, but you couldn't quite care.

The rest of the night was spent crying, until you eventually cry yourself to sleep.

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Two weeks.

Two weeks of pretending that you weren't in love with Nat, two weeks of pretending you weren't gay, two weeks of struggling by yourself.

You couldn't tell anyone, and it was absolutely killing you.

Sure, you thought about telling Van. You noticed the way that she looked at Taissa. But telling someone made it real. Telling someone solidified the abnormality of you.

So, you kept it to yourself. Sure, it was torture. But at least it was safe.

Nat was still driving you too and from school, and you had gotten the courage to smoke with her again. Things were almost normal, despite you knowing that they weren't.

Today was different, though. And you could feel it.

The weird part was that the difference wasn't with Nat. The ride to school was the same as always. Both of you quiet, still waking up.

No, the weird part was your friends. As soon as you got to school, you could tell that something was off with them. Everyone was giving you weird looks, and they were all barely talking to you. It scared you, the thought of them finding out your secret.

Turns out that they did figure your secret out. Just not the one that you thought.

"Surprised you can afford food," one girl says as you sit down at your usual lunch table.

"What?" You're confused. Why would they think that you can't afford to eat?

"You know, it's just that usually people with your... financial status... get free lunch. That doesn't look like free lunch." She smiles, a sickly sweet sort of look that makes your stomach drop.

You're silent, not exactly knowing what to say in this situation.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed! It's not your fault that you're trailer trash," another girl chimes in, that same fake kind look on her face.

It takes so much strength to keep from completely breaking down, knowing that if you did, they'd just get worse.

"Is that why you never want to go shopping with us?" A different voice is added to the mix, and you hate that they have this kind of power over you.

They keep berating you, insulting your trailer, your clothes, your lack of a car. Even your looks get commented on, and you hate it more than anything.

How they even found out where you lived was a mystery to you. You were so careful, and Nat would never tell them. She knew how badly you wanted to keep your living situation under wraps.

Eventually, lunch does end, but you don't go to class. There's absolutely no way that you could face anyone. Not your now ex-friends, and absolutely not Natalie.

Instead, you hide in the bathroom, spending the remaining two class periods locked in a stall. You know that you'll have to see Nat when she drives you home, but being alone for an hour and a half will hopefully give you enough time to calm down before you have to see her.

You cry. Of course you cry. Your life is falling down around you, and you're sitting in a bathroom stall. There's nothing to do but cry. You cry over your friends being horrible, you cry about the trailer you're living in, you cry about leaving your old friends behind to move. Mostly, though, you cry about being in love with a girl.

It's midway through last period when you pull yourself together, and by the time your face is back to its normal color, you've got ten minutes to get looking like yourself.

It doesn't take long to fix your makeup, and by the time the final bell rings, you look normal. Nat won't be able to tell that you were crying in the bathroom for half the day.

When you walk out to her car, Nat's waiting for you. As soon as she sees you coming, it's like she knows that something's wrong. She doesn't say anything, but she changes the music to something that she knows you like, which is her equivalent to giving you a hug.

While you appreciate the gesture, it just makes you lose it all over again. You're in the passenger seat of Nat's car, sobbing for the second time today.

"Shit, are you okay? What's wrong?" She glances over at you, still driving. "Do you need me to pull over?"

You shake your head in response, urging her to keep driving. It's impossible for you to get words out through your tears, and Nat doesn't try to get you to talk anymore. Instead, she drives you to your trailer and walks you inside.

Natalie leads you to to your bedroom, sitting you on your bed. For the first time in your friendship, she wraps her arms around you and gives you a real hug.

The contact doesn't keep you from crying, in fact it almost makes it worse. But you feel safe in her arms, like the words from your former friends can't touch you here. You have the vague thought that your mascara is staining Natalie's shirt, but she doesn't seem to care.

Both of you stay like that until you stop crying, Nat holding onto you like you're the only thing in the world that matters. Its uncharacteristically soft for her, and it feels special. Like you're someone she trusts with softness.

When you're finally calm enough, you pull away from her and start to explain what happened. Her arm stays around your waist, and you don't attempt to move it.

"My- my friends, they, uh, they found out... where I live." You're stuttering and tripping over what you're saying, and luckily Nat gets it from just those words.

"And they were asses about it?" she asks, and you nod. Her grip on your waist tightens, and she looks pissed.

"You don't deserve that shit. It's not like you can control where you live. Not to mention you're twice the person any of those girls will ever be." Nat somehow pulls you closer, and you feel such a strange mix of emotions.

"That- isn't everything." Maybe it's the contact, maybe it's how sweet she's being right now. Maybe you're just sick of hiding.

"What else?"

"I think I'm gay." The words come out in a rush, and you're not sure Natalie even understood what you were saying. That is, until she responds.

"Why do you think that?" Her response isn't at all judgmental, and you feel a little better saying your next words.

"I like a girl."

Natalie laughs, and for a moment, you internally freak out. Is this where the judgment comes in?

"Yeah, I guess that'll do it."

You can't help but laugh at her answer, and everything feels so much better. As much as you're grateful that she's not asking who the girl is, you almost want to tell her that it's her. Almost.

"I thought you might hate me."

"For being gay? You know I'm bi, right? Bisexual?"

The confirmation doesn't exactly shock you, but it's still a bit of a surprise. How easily she says it.

"I didn't. Know that."

"Surprise, I guess. I'm queer too."

"Did you... feel weird about it? Like when you first... figured it out, I guess."

She nods, and you feel a sense of relief. That you weren't the only one who found your own queerness a bit jarring.

Natalie doesn't try to reassure you that you're normal, that there's nothing wrong with you. She knows it's not going to make anything better immediately.

You sit in comfortable silence for a while, just decompressing from the insanity of your day. That is, until you speak up.

"I can't believe I told you that." The panic had started to set in at this point, and you regretted saying anything to Nat.

"It's not like I'm going to tell anyone, dude."

"Yeah." That makes you feel a bit better, although you're still freaking out a bit. You look up at her, giving a small smile, and there's a look on her face that you can't exactly put your finger on.

For some reason, neither of you seem to be able to look away from the other. It's almost as if you're in a trance, or like someone put a spell on you.

Suddenly, the two of you were kissing. It happened so quickly that neither of you could say who initiated the kiss, but neither of you pulled a way.

Nat's lips were chapped, and a bit rough against your own. Despite that, the kiss was soft. Something you didn't exactly expect from Natalie. One of her hands is still on your hip, and the other moves to run through your hair. Your own hands cup her cheeks, feeling her soft, pale skin under your fingers.

Every thought of how wrong loving Natalie is leaves your head. It's like she's kissing away all of your fears, and you're so grateful to her.

Eventually, you break apart so you can take a breath, and Natalie looks so beautiful. Somehow even better than she normally does.

"So, the girl you like..?" Natalie's smirking, and she clearly knows that you were talking about her.

In lieu of a response, you roll your eyes and flip her off. She laughs, clearly enjoying fucking with you. You aren't annoyed, not really. You're too giddy for that.

Nat pulls you down onto your bed so that you're lying down next to each other, and you feel so content in that moment.

"You know those girls are the worst, right?" You can tell that Nat is both trying to make you laugh and being completely genuine.

"Yeah."

"Good. You deserve to be treated better than that."

You nod and press a quick kiss to her lips, as if to say "thank you." She grins, pulling you into her side.

"Feeling like smoking now?"

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #natalie scatorccio #natalie x reader #teen natalie #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x you #nat scatorccio x you #natalie yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

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cripplecharacters · 8 months ago

Note

Do you have any thoughts on the intersection of disability and sexuality? I made a disabled OC who was designed as a tongue in cheek subversion of the "can't have sexual attraction as a disabled person" tropes-- she's pansexual and something of a disaster queer, by her own admission. Her type is guys with messy hair who are a little bit dorky, fem girls who are sweet and have long hair, and... pretty much a good portion of the cast at some point. But I wanted to get some more opinions, since I (known disabled person) am probably going to write a lot more disabled characters.

Hey!

In my opinion, there's a huge problem with disabled characters being completely desexualized, and it happens a lot. Especially for severely and/or developmentally disabled people. If you're interested in some real-life examples, I can't recommend Crip Camp (2020) enough. There's a fragment specifically about that intersectionality around the 50-minute mark by Denise Sherer Jacobson.

However, there's also the other side of sexuality and disability, which is the fetishization. We talked about fetishization on this blog before, but it wasn't literal (at least most of the time). There are some specific disabilities that are more affected by this, the prime example being little people - or, people with dwarfism - which often get oversexualized and objectified. Here's a very relevant post about this by @a-little-revolution. You can see this on tumblr too, some tags (#amputee comes to mind) are basically unusable because it's all able-bodied fetishists. When doing your research I'd just urge you to avoid this kind of crowd for your own well-being.

In general, make sure that the narrative doesn't frame her exploring her sexuality as something "taboo" or "freaky". It could be good to have abled characters who are similar to her in that as well.

I think that your perspective as a disabled person will help you avoid many of the problems that could pop up. Remember to give your character(s) agency when it comes to their sexuality and if you decide to have multiple disabled characters, try to give them different views/experiences of it.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anonymous #writing disabled characters #intersectionality #sexuality and disability

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serene-destruction · 11 months ago

Note

Oh! Listen I love Husk and I need him to have more love! Maybe a Fem!Reader x Husk x Angel. Angel Dust and Reader would be a qpr quite obviously, just besties who want to give love to a grumpy cat. Other than that I give you creative freedom!

The first request! Just for future reference, my stories are gender neutral unless otherwise plot relevant. Anyways, enjoy!

I Could Get Used To You

(GN) Reader x Husker x (Queer Platonic)Angel Dust

TW: drunkenness, vague mentions of past trauma.

Work count: 5.6k

Summary: Life in hell isn't an easy one, but it's a lot easier to get through it when you find people to care about.

You and Angel had known of each other for quite some time, given that he had often attended the bar you worked at in his early years in hell. Despite how aggressively flirtatious he was you didn't mind him as much as some of the other regulars. He at least had the restraint to make those comments in between sets or after the show. You spent the first few months mostly ignoring him, as you did with all the other patrons. That became harder, though, when he had decided to see you after the show.

“Heya sweetheart!” he called out to you as you left the bar. You rolled your eyes and held your coat a little tighter, hoping that hiding your body might get him to leave you the hell alone. You had a rough night filled with drunken idiots disrupting your show with their shameless attempts to touch you and you certainly didn't need his comments to top it all off.

“Say what you want then leave me the hell alone” you nearly growled out your words. It was hard to stay composed after having spent hours keeping that fake smile for the crowd.

“Woah! Got it, bad night” he held his hands up in a show of surrender.

“Just wanna talk” he explained, his smile a little less cocky than when he made his usual comments at the bar. Truthfully it had caught you a little off guard, considering how you had ascribed total arrogant confidence to him. So you let out a sigh, motioning him to walk with you. You just simply didn't feel like arguing and you were pretty confident that he was mostly talk. Something you could easily placate until you made it back home.

“Just to be clear, if you lay a single one of those hands on me I'm cutting all of them off” you warn and he flashes a bright, teasing smile.

“Kinky~” his voice was sing-songy as he spoke. You crossed your arms, glared, and hoped he got the point.

“Right, right. I won't touch ya” he agreed and you were able to grow a little more comfortable. Still, you remained on guard.

“Names Angel by the way” he sounded so sure of himself as he spoke, a set of hands held on his hips in a show of confidence. He had only just started his career back then, his fame in its early stages. It wasn't a surprise when you didn't recognize it.

“Y/n. Though I'm sure you already knew that” your words held an edge, your tense posture clear. But he simply nodded along.

“Yeah. Still a nice name though” his smile widened a little and, despite the minor disdain you had started with, you could see him already growing on you.

“Right…any particular reason you decided to talk to me tonight of all nights? I've seen you around the bar for a while now” you questioned him, rather curious about why exactly now of all times he wanted to suddenly meet you.

“I just wanted to let ya know you did good tonight. I get how much of a bummer pricks messin’ with your show can be.” the genuine compliment surprised you so much that you're silent for a moment. A moment too long apparently as he speaks again.

“If it means anything it was one’a my favorites so far” At that you turned and searched for some sort of humor in his eyes, maybe something that said he was lying. But when there wasn't anything you finally returned his smile with a weary one.

“Glad you enjoyed it” you took the compliment, though you still didn’t fully believe that he was being truthful. It was rare someone ever complimented you to start with, but you had yet to have someone do so without an ulterior motive.

“And y’know, that happens again tomorrow and I'll personally knock ‘em around for you, yeah?” his smile turned into a grin and you couldn't help the short laugh that left at his expression.

“If you feel so inclined. Though if anyone asks, I told you to leave the poor sods alone” you tried to make it clear that you definitely weren't supposed to be harming the clientele with how dramatic the last part of the sentence was. Luckily he seemed to get the point.

“Course. They've been gettin’ on my nerves anyway” you couldn't help but agree.

The two of you continue on with your conversation, getting to know a bit about each other's lives on the short walk. Despite his behavior at the bar, he was actually surprisingly personable one-on-one. He had a kind of natural charisma with a bit of faint genuine kindness. It was, frankly, one of the better conversations you had since you fell into hell. But all good things always come to an end. This time it was because you stopped your feet outside your residence.

“It was nice getting to actually meet you Angel” he stopped with you and you could have sworn you caught the faintest glimpse of his smile falling.

“It was nice meetin’ you too. You workin’ tomorrow?” His question surprises you a bit, but you answer anyway.

“When am I not working” you rolled your eyes, your exhaustion now easy to see. His look turned sympathetic.

“If that ain't the truth. See you tomorrow then?” He begins to walk away but stays turned to you for a response with his hand held in a finger gun motion. You can't help the bit of genuine smile that peeks through.

“As always” you answer before finally tucking into your apartment building.

You and Angel only got closer over the coming years. He would walk you home from your shows from time to time and you would entertain him with whatever story you had of the nights when he was too busy to show up. You too bonded over work and he even offered to be a dancer a few times just to rake in some more attention and get you enough to finally move up from that shit hole. But you always kindly refused, not looking for the increasing fame he carried with him.

Eventually you two even started hanging out in other places. Granted they were always other run-down shit holes given he didn't particularly want the paparazzi and fans that came from his job, but you two always seemed to make the most of it, keeping your friendship on the down low.

Until, one night, he stopped showing up.

You had become increasingly concerned after a month of him just up and disappearing. You were worried something had happened or maybe that his psychotic boss was pulling away even more of his already limited freedom. But then he showed up after one of your shows, face guilt-ridden when you went near frantic.

You were already yelling out question after question at him. Where has he gone? Was he okay? Did something happen? He had to calm you down before explaining that he had moved. You were so incredibly proud knowing that he was finally removing even just a part of himself from the work that had begun to be his entire life, though you were still a bit upset that he hadn't told you sooner.

But then he made you an offer you weren't expecting.

“You know, the hotel has an open doors rule and uh…well I was hopin’ you might…”

“Join you?” You finish the sentence for him. He turned to you with a look more nervous than you've ever seen from him.

“Look I know the place ain't exactly the best- the whole redemption thing’s a joke- but y'know I think you could get a job down there! Get away from all…all of this. Plus, y’know, I'd get to see you more often and-”

“Sounds like a plan” you stop his rambling with your answer and he turns to you with an almost bewildered look.

“Really? You sure?” He couldn't believe you would agree so quickly. You laughed at that.

“A chance to leave this shitty life behind and live with my best friend? Why would I say no? Especially if you like the place enough to recommend it” You lightheartedly shoved him and he almost gleamed with joy, his prior nervousness nothing but a thought now.

“Well shit. I thought I was gonna have ta try a lot harder than that. Had a whole pitch and everything!” he spoke with a laugh and you couldn't help but join in the joy.

You had to say the first few months at the hotel had been rough. For one, your boss didn't like the idea of you quitting very much. You were half the reason he made any money to begin with and he wasn't about to let you go so easily. So for a while you had been harassed and once nearly even killed before Alastor went and ‘dealt with this little problem of yours’. Though you suspected it was only because your boss had sent people to attack the hotel itself and less that he cared about you in any capacity.

You had managed to get a job at the hotel like Angel had said, though you felt more like a resident since there weren't ever enough people to warrant a show. But it had been more than once you were able to lift spirits with a performance, so you did still get paid. It was nice not having to work as much.

Though you would have to say, out of all the other strange people and events here, the bartender was the one that caught your eye the most. A right asshole he was, but there was still a charm he had. You two mostly only had some idle chit-chat, but Angel seemed to be getting pretty close to him, especially after he had one of his rougher nights that you hadn't been around for. Which meant you talked to the cat demon more. Never really one on one, but still you grew to see why your friend seemed so comfortable around him. He was easy to talk to. You mostly saw him as a friend of a friend though. Maybe even a good acquaintance if you wanted to push it.

But then there was that night…

Two in the morning and you still couldn't get a single wink of sleep. Tossing and turning and general frustration simply wouldn't allow you.

You couldn't get it out of your head. It had been so long since the memories had been allowed to invade your mind like they did tonight. Your skin crawled as if it wanted to escape you and if you could you would let it. You felt utterly trapped as it clung to you. Like the only escape from it was to dissolve into nothing.

You knew why the memories had come back swinging, all too aware that it was such a stupid thing to have opened that old wound. All Charlie had done was pull you to the new activity she was so excited to share. But her hands dragged you and made it impossible to pull away and when you made it to that room all the eyes fell on you. It was horrifyingly familiar in a way that it shouldn't have been. You had wanted to disappear right then.

Yet you didn't speak up and instead let her do as she pleased, knowing that it was such a mundane thing that you shouldn't have let upset you like it did. You felt childish at having let the event ruin your night, at letting the entire situation dig itself into old scars. But still, you just couldn't stop the dread it built within you. You couldn't stop that clawing feeling of trying to escape your own body. Of escaping the phantom feeling of drag and pull and the expecting eyes that felt almost as if they'd burn you alive.

It didn't take long before the feeling began to sting your eyes with tears. It was at that point you knew there would be no sleeping tonight. So you finally gave up trying, sitting up in your bed as you wiped away the tears that hadn't been given the chance to fall. You quickly composed yourself, as you were just so great at doing by this point, and tossed on a warm robe before leaving your room. You glance at Angel's door when you do.

You contemplate for a brief moment if you should wake him, though you quickly decide against it. He was tired enough as it was with the shit he had to deal with on the daily, he didn't need you keeping him up on top of that. So you turned down the hall, making sure to remain quiet so as not to disturb anyone.

You needed a distraction, something to get your mind off everything. To numb that horrible feeling. You find that nothing calls your name quite like the sound of a drink and so you navigate the many halls until you find yourself at the hotel bar.

As you suspected, the place was barren and silent. You have no problem getting behind the bar and making your own drink as it most certainly wasn't your first time. You note that you should probably try to keep the place tidy while you're at it, but decide that you'll do so after you enjoy the sweet relief at the bottom of a glass.

And, for a few short moments, you do. The warm, burning feeling spreads through your chest and purges the shivers right on out of you. But it doesn't last after the drink is finished and the silence truly sets in. So you pour yourself another, trying to chase any semblance of peace.

“Can't sleep?” A voice asks from behind you, nearly scaring you off of the barstool as you whip around to see who it was. You're surprised to see Husk of all people, even more surprised to see something that might resemble concern show on him. But you soon calm, giving a nod to him before turning back around.

“Nope…you too?” You ask, catching him rounding his way to the other side of the bar as you do.

“I prefer nights. A lot more peaceful, especially in this place” you acknowledge his comment with a hum before turning back to nursing your drink.

There is a silence between the two of you for a good few minutes. He cleans around for a while and you try to let your emotions leave you with every sip. It isn't long before you poor a third and you try to ignore the fact that this isn't helping.

It's when you go to pour your fourth drink that he stops what he's doing. You try to ignore him and whatever he's deciding to do with his time, but it becomes harder when he leans on the bar in front of you.

“That’s not gonna help you” He states plainly, your eyes turning to glance at him. There's a brief moment where you attempt to pull your facade back up. Where you try to tug your lips into a smile and choke out any words that would deter his potential questions. But it is exhausting and you are already beyond tired. So instead you hang your head.

“I know…was just hoping I'd be wrong” your words are quiet and mumbled, a far cry from your usually quite loud and charismatic self. It makes your insides twist to have let yourself be seen like this.

“Do you wanna talk about why you're up so late?” His question makes you swallow thickly, hands gripping tighter on the glass in your hand. Another few moments of silence pass that seem almost like an eternity under his stare. It takes a while for you to find any words in this state.

“It’s not worth your time” you manage the sentence, eyes fixated on the honey color of your chosen liquor. You hear him sigh, taking a step back as he pours his own drink.

“I'm the one who's askin’. If I waste my time that's my own damn fault” you don't like how hard it is for you to find the meaning in his tone. You can't tell if he's being dismissive or trying to comfort you. So you settled on answering with silence once more. You hear him sigh before he rounds the bar again.

“Look, tell me or don't tell me, but I at least want to hear you say something” this time you do hear an attempt to be genuine. He takes a seat beside you and you finally turn to look at him again. His eyes expect nothing, a rare sight for you. It's…comforting. You aren't sure if it was you or the alcohol talking, but you could have even been able to delude yourself into thinking that he cared. You look away again when you feel that false comfort begins to wrap you. You find your tongue beginning to slip.

“I…” you start and suddenly it's like your insides churn. You put nearly everything into stopping the pull of tears.

“It's just a bad night for me, is all. I…I’m not really used to this” you finally let the words fall and you can't bring yourself to look at him. You don't want to know how he's reacting to your words. You don't want to see just how little he actually cares.

“Used to what, exactly?” he pries further, asking for more. The flood gates were already open and there was no use in trying to shut them now.

“The way everyone is just so comfortable with each other- the way that I almost feel comfortable. It was easy with Angel; both of us in the same shit situation with no one else to lean on but each other. But nobody needs something from me here, nobody's trying to take anything- they don't want anything! And it- I just-...” your hands shake, your breath becoming unsteady. It's been so long since you felt this pathetic.

“I don't think I'm supposed to be here” you admit as your voice wavers. You try to steady your breath and calm yourself. It wasn't safe to be this vulnerable, it was stupid.

“I get it” his words stop your thoughts immediately. You're left reeling from the whiplash and expecting that he must have grown a second head that speaks only lies. But it's just him as he stares down at his now half-empty drink, no second head in sight. There's a look of contemplation on his face that you can see even as he keeps his eyes on the glass. A moment later he speaks again.

“When you've spent so long getting used to people treating you like shit it can be hard to accept when someone doesn't. Makes it feel like they're lyin’, like they're just waitin’ for the moment to hurt you the worst” his words quickly hit a deep part of you, knocking at known insecurities you had long since buried as deep as you could.

“Makes you paranoid too, always checking your back for snakes. Gets harder to believe anyone; harder to care about anyone a lot of the time. And so you stop caring, and suddenly it stops hurting as much” his continued words only dug deeper, tugging away at your walls like they were wet paper. When his eyes finally meet yours again you are surprised to see them soften. There isn't pity in them, nor a look that makes you feel as childish as you felt before talking to him. Instead, you are met with a knowing stare, one that says he understands this feeling all too well.

“But the thing is that doesn't mean you feel any better. Makes the suffering pointless if you don't try to let the good in too. You gotta make it mean something” he doesn't look away from you as he says those words and you can't bring yourself to turn away either. You don't want to. Because he's saying everything you needed to hear and you can't find any reason not to trust that he doesn't know exactly how this feels. That he isn't speaking directly from the heart. Your dread turns to a sinking sort of comfort. The kind only broken people could give when they reach out and pull each other from the dark. It's the most seen you've ever felt.

You feel the tears finally well in your eyes but you can't help but smile at him, a sad laugh escaping you.

“Of all the people I expected to give me a pep talk I gotta say, you weren't even on the list” you finally speak again and there is no hiding that he's hit something deep within you.

“Of all the fucked up people here, I didn't expect you would need anyone to talk to” He offers the same smile as he hand you a napkin. You take it without complaint and quickly calm your tears with deep breaths, wiping away the strays that fell. There's a short moment of silence, but it doesn't feel as suffocating anymore. In fact you almost feel a strange comfort in it now that it doesn't feel so empty. Still, you knew you should probably say something.

“You know, uh…” you break the silence as you once again turn to your drink, this time far less focused on ignoring him as much as you were trying to compose yourself enough to speak. At the very least you're able to steady your voice.

“Angel and I were going to head out tomorrow. I don't think he'd mind if you came…if you're free, of course” you invited him but didn't catch the way his smile widened at the request.

“I can't guarantee anything, but I’m not declining” his maybe is better than a no, so you don't particularly mind his answer. In fact you can feel your own smile soften at it.

Since then the three of you have been near inseparable. At any given part of the day at least two of you are off doing something with each other. It's nice, you think, to have people this close to you, to have a reason to care again. The three of you look out for each other and It's the closest you've ever gotten to stability in your life. At this point, you don't think you'd trade it for anything.

Which is why when you start to develop feelings for Husk, you are utterly horrified.

You know him and Angel have…something going on. You know they're not together as you know you would have been the first to know, but you've also never seen Angel smile the way he does when he's around the winged demon. You would say the same for Husk, but you've caught him sending the same soft smile to you once or twice and you honestly can't tell if it's your lovestruck daze or if those smiles are what you think they are.

Your emotions are a spiraling mess within you. You care so much for both of them. You'd live through a thousand hells if it meant you'd have them around. The absolute last thing you want is to fuck this up.

So you choose to say nothing. You bottle your feelings and throw them in the garbage. As far as you were concerned being in their afterlives at all was good enough. You wouldn't risk it.

However, it became hard during nights like these. When you all were giddy off alcohol, conversation flowing through wide smiles and every touch as gentle as it could ever be. It was the definition of home, a place where you were the most comfortable you could possibly be. Your tongue loose and your actions anything but hidden. Your care poured from you openly and only so much could be blamed on the alcohol.

“I fucking love you guys” the words fell shamelessly from you. Granted you were pretty fucked up by this point as you tried to keep up with them, but it wasn't more than you could reasonably handle without blacking out. They both turned to you, inebriated smiles sending themselves your way.

“Love you too, sweetheart” Angel returned, one of his hands patting your head, a wider smile spreading on your face as he did. You leaned against the bar, your head propped up by one of your hands as you turned to Husk. You just barely notice the way he leaned ever so slightly closer. But he says nothing and you can't help but feel like you deserve at least an acknowledgement of your words from him.

“I'd be happy to show you if you don't believe me” the words slipped and once more you didn't notice what you were saying. You do, however, catch his eyes widen, pupils dilating a bit. When he continues to say nothing you roll your eyes and pull back just slightly. You don't catch the way he almost follows you before he pulls himself back, nor the stare Angel is giving from beside you.

“One of these days I'll get you to say it back” you speak before downing yet another shot. You miss the quick glance they give to each other.

“It’s getting late. We should probably head to bed” Angel suggests as he stands.

“Really?” You whine mostly to yourself.

“You two go ahead. I have to clean up anyway” Husk gives his excuse and you groan but ultimately agree to the end of your night. You take one of Angel's hands as the both of you begin your stumble down the halls. The two of you are a giggling mess against each other, nearly falling about twenty separate times, but you do eventually make it to your room. You quickly notice that he hesitates on his goodbyes though.

“Hey uh, can we…talk?” He asks and, though you are a bit surprised it doesn't show.

“Of course!” You agree, opening your door and allowing him inside your room. You make it to your bed where you both quickly sit, unable to stand unsupported for long.

“What's up?” You ask, bleary eyes turning to him. You have to admit you're a little worried, but you hope that whatever he wants to talk about isn't too serious.

“You and Husk are gettin’ pretty close” his words don't strike you at first, so you give him a smile.

“Yeah. Same for you” you comment and watch a wave of confusion hit him.

“What?” He seems to almost not Believe the words that have left you and it takes you a moment to realize why.

“Oh come on Angel, don't tell me you haven't noticed how he looks at you! With that little smile of his- and don't you think I've missed you staring either! You two are absolutely thirsty for each other” Your voice is louder than you notice. When he quickly tries to quiet you down you fall back onto your bed with a laugh, trying to escape his hands. He continues to reach out anyway and so you pull him down with you, eventually sending the both of you into another giggle fit.

“Could say the same for you” Angel speaks through his laugh, though there is a hesitance to it. You can't hide the way the implication catches you.

“You think so?” You ask cautiously, almost worried as you turn to look at him, his body beside yours.

“Yeah…Yeah I do” he replies just as slowly, the air in the room becoming tense in the sudden silence. It was a longer silence than you would have liked, both of you turning your eyes to the ceiling in contemplation of the words you both had spoken.

After a moment Angel sits up a bit, just enough to lean his head against his hand and look down at you.

“I love him. Like a whole fuckin’ lot and…I love you too. You’re the best friend I could’a eva asked for in this shithole” he admits and you can't tear your eyes from him. He, however, can't bear to look at you.

“And I was hopin', maybe, if you'd like ta…well if you'd wanna share him with me. If he even does feel that way about us” the words leave his lips ever so carefully and you can't help the wide smile that breaks across your face, all your previous worry disappearing. You reach a gentle hand out, his eyes finally turning back to yours when it lands on his face.

“I'd love that” you let the words leave and watch as he lights up, smile soft and worry dissipating by the second. Then suddenly an idea pops into your head, a mischievous smile crawling to your lips.

“Oh no, I know that look. What are you plannin’?” He asks, amusement overtaking any attempts to look worried. You quickly sat up, pulling him along with you.

“Well Mr. Grouchy Pants likes to walk by my door whenever he needs extra cleaning rags and personally I think he should be going to bed” you explain as you stand on still shaky legs. Angel doesn't seem to catch on for a moment before suddenly realizing what you mean.

“You ain't gonna do that” Angel says oh so confidently. He must have failed to account for how much bolder you are when drunk, because you most definitely plan to. In fact you hear stumbling feet making their way right about now. So you open the door, catching the attention of a certain winged cat almost immediately.

“Still working?” you ask. He has to blink a few times to catch up with the situation and you know then that drank a bit more after you guys left.

“Yeah” he answers simply. A moment later Angel is behind you, peaking out as well. He leans two arms against you for balance and Husk gives both of you a look.

“You ain't makin’ it down the hall like that. You look like you're about ta pass out” Angel points out and Husk turns back to him, almost offended.

“I'm not that drunk, sweetheart” the nickname catches you off guard and Husk seems just as surprised at what just came out of his own mouth.

“Oh? We’re doing pet names now kitty?” you tease a little and he looks utterly floored by the nickname. It sends a grin across Angel's face.

“Yeah kitten, since when did that happen?” Angel's voice is even more teasing than yours and Husk seems completely out of his depth. Every word he tries to speak dies before it leaves his lips. Eventually, he tips his hat down and tries to leave.

“I gotta go to bed-” before he gets too far you manage to snag one of his suspender straps, gently pulling him back a bit. He follows, knowing he would probably fall if he didn't.

“You should stay with us for the night” you offer and watch as his eyes shoot wider than you've ever seen them. He goes to speak but you cut him off before he can say a word.

“Mind out of the gutter. We’re just going to sleep’” you clarify and hear Angel whine a bit. You quickly nudge him and he stops, accepting that there would be nothing else tonight. But, while Husk's face seems a little less horrified, he still hesitates.

“Please?” You ask in as sweet a tone as you can manage. You watch as he uses the last of his resolve to attempt to answer no, but when Angel leans down near you and offers the same pleading look, he simply can't.

“Fine” he mumbles out with his arms crossed. Without a word you tug him inside, the door shutting as the three of you stumble your way back. Each one of you managed to bump or knock the others at least once as you all did your best to make it into bed.

At some point you and Angel are on the bed and Husk is still hesitating to follow. He's only allowed a moment before Angel reaches out and pulls him, his body landing heavily on the two of you with the strings of curses that follow. You all struggled to find your spots, moving and squirming to get comfortable. Your blankets are tossed and tugged to cover the three of you until, finally, you all seem to all be covered. It's then that idle talk arrives, slurred attempts at conversation that distract long enough for you all to get comfortable.

It wasn't a surprise Husk ended up in the middle, the two of you shamelessly cuddling up to him on either side. He's a bit tense for a while, but when he does allow himself to calm down and relax he is a purring mess; a sound that is only intensified when you absentmindedly pet the fluff on his head. Eventually all of you become quiet, eyes heavy with a need for sleep and the most comfortable you all have ever been. It's during this, moments away from drifting off, that husk manages two words.

“Love you” he slurs out, but to who neither you are Angel are sure. So instead you take it as a sentiment meant for both of you. You lay a soft kiss against his head before snuggling closer and Angel does the same.

You could definitely get used to this.

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