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buck-star · 6 months ago

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Mission — Heat | Steve Rogers

// Pairing // Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega!Female!Reader

// Summary // Your best friend and you are on a mission but when he finds out about your heat he doesn’t let you do the mission — but one night in one bed is still enough to confess the real feelings.

// Wordcount // 6.714 Words

// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, best friends to lovers, alpha/beta/omega, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Reader, Heat, true mates, smut, fingering (fem!receiving), teasing, lots of kisses, masturbation (male!receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasm, squirting, little bit of degradation and begging, dirty talk, praises, fluff

// Request // Hi sweetie and happy 2K, you deserve them!! So I noticed you're doing that fun activist with prompts. I was thinking maybe: true mates who are childhood best friends? (A/B/O) It could be Steve Rogers ( I just imagine him a lot like an alpha😭) ? smut and a bit of fluff? Maybe they were supposed to go in a mission but she's starting her heat ( I think it's written like this?) so she stays behind and he offers to stay with her? they end up sleeping together and him taking care of her? ❤️ Sending you so much love!! @rogersbarber

// Authors Note // Hey, thank you for the request and for the nice words. It wasn’t supposed to be such a long oneshot but it turned out longer than expected. Hope you like it. Biggest thank you goes to my girl @bucks-babe for proofreading for me. You’re amazing and make my work so much better.

// Events // MCU Kink Bingo | O1 | Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics: true mates | @mcukinkbingo || Fandom-Free Bingo: Pride Edition | Row Three-Two | Friends to lovers | @fandom-free-bingo || FluffySteveFest | July 1: Affection | Kisses, Aftercare | @fluffystevefest

// Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist | 2000 Follower Celebration //

Being on a mission with your best friend was always your favorite kind of mission so you thought it would be like that this time too. Even though you got your heat just before you were getting ready for the mission — but your best friend knows it, he is used to it.

Steve Rogers, unmated Alpha and your best friend since childhood, the two of you grew up together, he always defended you in school, in front of other Alphas and he still does it when he notices that you don’t do it for yourself.

Even though he defends you sometimes still, he loves your attitude, your confidence and with every year the two of you grew older, things changed between the two of you — inside of him. He wouldn’t tell you, at least not yet. Steve loves the friendship the two of you have and he doesn't want to ruin it with his alpha instincts during your heats.

So little does he know that you went on the mission with him while getting into your heat. You smelled different but he was too focused on studying the file to care about your changing scent, maybe it was just another perfume you use?

“Have you read them? Sounds like they are in the hall and we ha—“ Steve says, sitting in a chair opposite you. The room has next to two chairs and a small table also a double bed — you already tested with a jump on it.

You’re currently in a hotel, waiting for the time you have the ‘meeting’ with the weapon dealer. Steve’s arms resting on his thick thighs and you looked at him up and down, while he was focused on the file. But now his blue eyes are piercing into yours, he tilts his head to the side and clears his throat.

“What are you doing there?” He asks, looking at your small construction on the bed. His shirts are placed around you on the mattress, you’re sitting with your back against the headboard and you’re focused on replacing a few of his shirts to make it more comfortable, while you listen to your best friend.

“N—Nothing, just wanted to see what you brought with you,” you say, smiling softly. Steve nods, not really believing what you try to convince him of.

“And you’re doing this by placing all my shirts around you?” His voice is soft but you can still hear a more dominant tone. You whimper quietly, trying to push all your thoughts away, you can’t let the omega inside of you get the control just yet. Not on a mission, not when you’re supposed to sleep in a bed with Steve.

“Yes? That’s a problem?” You ask, trying to sound as sweet as you can. Steve inhales deeply, and then it clicks in his mind, your scent isn’t different because of another perfume — oke at least not only because of that — it’s because you’re in heat and don’t want him to know it.

“Omega,” he growls, earring a whimper from you, knowing that he is right. “Fuck— why didn’t you tell me? Even using another perfume so I won’t smell it immediately? You can’t come on a mission with me, when— Oh fuck!”

“Language, Steve! Don’t use those words and I can! See, I'm here with you, on a mission,” you say, trying to play cool, while he gets up from the chair and paces through the room. Steve runs his hands through his hair, he loves you, he cares about you and that’s why you shouldn’t go on a mission during your heat — and especially not be in the same room — the same bed as the Alpha.

“I’m sorry, princess. But we will call Tony and get you home and I will do the mission alone or with another agent,” Steve says, frustration grows inside of him when he realizes that it’s evening and that you will have to stay the night in the same bed he does. “Or we let Sam and Bucky do that.”

“Stevie, I can do the mission with you, don’t make a big deal out of it please. It’s just my heat, oke?” You try, earning a glare that causes you to flinch and shut your mouth immediately.

“Not a big deal, huh? Do you know that most of the people we are going to meet there are Alphas? They will smell you, and when we do a mistake they will fucking get you and who knows what they are going to do then. With you — sweet Omega, they deal with weapons. Do you think they don’t have their omegas on a leash like a little pet?”

You sigh, maybe Steve is wrong but you two are a good team so they won’t get you and have you as their own personal toy, will they?

“Gonna call Tony now,” he huffs, reaching for his phone before he taps on it a few times before Tony picks up the call. You don’t really listen to the conversation, too frustrated that Steve doesn’t want to do the mission with you.

You grasp one after the other shirts of his, throwing it away. When you can’t go on a mission to him, you don’t want to be close to him. And as much as you crave your little nest with his shirts, you’re too mad to care about you. Luckily, your heat just started so you don’t have too bad cramps and when you get some you can still help yourself, you don’t need Steve or his stupid shirts — really good smelling shirts.

“What are you doing there, princess? First you build your nest with my shirts and now you throw them away, can you at least put them back into the bag?” Steve asks after hanging up and looking at you.

It only needs one look at you and he knows that you’re frustrated, that you’re going to be bratty because you’re always like that when Steve denies you. Sometimes you hate him, he is your best friend and you love him but those moments let you think if it could be a love-hate thing or something. Even though you know he is your true mate but since you’re both best friends you never wanted to risk your friendship for that, especially not because you never felt like you need a relationship just yet.

“Pick them up, ‘mega,” he growls, walking closer to the bed where you’re still sitting. You shake your head, pulling your legs against your chest and causing him to sigh. “That’s childish, you threw my clothes on the ground, now pick them up and bit them back into my bag.”

“Make me, Alpha,” you smirk when his eyes darken. Steve being feral is something you like to see, especially when his Alpha is more present, you have never seen his real Alpha side but the bits he lets slip are something you could get used to.

“Not gonna repeat myself. You’re playing with fire. Coming here in your heat, wanting to sleep in a bed with me—“

“You can sleep on the floor if you prefer that,” you shrug. Steve’s suddenly really close to you, his hand snapping forward and grasping your chin harshly. He tilts your head back, causing you to whine slightly.

“I wasn’t finished. You come here with me for the mission, you are going to sleep in a bed with me — wouldn’t I be used to it by now I would have fucked you into the mattress already and claimed you,” he groans, the thought making his dick twitch in his tight pants and he feels his boxer briefs soaking by his pre-cum.

“Calm down, you called Tony so it’s fine now? But I wouldn’t mind you claiming me, could try it, see if I would be such a sweet little omega and lie there for you,” you say, giggling softly while Steve’s features harden and his jaw clenches.

He doesn’t say anything, just letting go of your jaw and inhaling deeply. Steve turns away from you, making his way to the room into the bathroom. When the door closes a small pout forms on your lips, you never thought being close to someone would affect you like that but your best friend's short touch felt just so good. His warmth and the soft tingle he causes on your skin, you’re craving more but maybe it’s just because of your heat and nothing more.

For a moment you think about sneaking out of the room, getting some food or just for a walk. Or maybe you check out the location for the deal the next day and you will get up early to be there and help Sam and Bucky?

You decide against it, knowing that a whole lot of Alphas would smell you and no matter how confident you are, you don’t want one of them to jump on you. So you’re leaning back, your back resting against the headboard of the bed. You grasp your book, but since you destroyed your nest you feel uncomfortable.

Meanwhile Steve couldn’t stand it any longer, he needed to get out of the situation otherwise he didn’t know if he could have controlled himself any longer to not just ruin you for every other Alpha.

Your smell is so intoxicating, surrounding him like air. He had seen you in your heat so often but something changed, inside of him and between the two of you.

The warm water runs down his body, relaxing his tensed muscles but his cock is still rock-hard and there is only his hand as solution. Steve brings one of his hands to his shaft, immediately groaning quietly when he wraps his fingers around his thickness.

How would it feel if those fingers would be yours? Would your small hand actually fit around his length?

For a moment he tries to bring his thoughts to one of the porns he is watching when he jerks off but his mind doesn’t want to do it like Steve wants and he always has the picture of you in front of his eyes.

Steve slowly moves his hand up and down his shaft, the tip is red and leaking. He runs his thumb over the slit, groaning about the sensation. His hips jerk forward, meeting the movements of his hand. Steve throws his head back, fucking his fist hard and fast while he tries to muffle his groans as much as possible while biting his lip.

He wants — he needs to feel your fingers around his shaft. Or your mouth, your pussy. So warm and tight and all wet for him. Steve knows that he would stretch you like no one did before because you haven’t had many Alphas yet and Steve’s cock is thick and long.

Steve’s eyes immediately open and widen when he hears a soft knock at the door. He lets go of his cock before he mumbles a soft “come in”. You have seen him under the shower often, so it’s nothing new but he never had a hard on or at least just jerked off while thinking about you.

You open the door, walking into the room. You’re not looking at him, you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, but you just don’t feel like being alone right now. Since you’re kids you’re used to sit in the bathroom with one another — when you were kids you also had a bath together — and just talk or be in silence.

“What’s up, princess?” Steve asks, turning around when you take a seat on the floor. You sigh softly, playing with your fingers in your lap, while Steve starts to wash himself.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come to the mission with you during my heat but I thought it wouldn’t be that bad, you know? And I’m sorry for throwing your clothes away, I just got mad when you said that,” you admit, looking around while you listen to the water of the shower.

“It’s oke, princess. I don’t blame you, but I don’t want you to be in danger and you know it’s easier to smell you when you’re in heat. Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve says, rubbing the shampoo into his hair before he continues to clean his body while he talks to you, making you laugh over and over again.

After the shower Steve asked you to look for some movies while he gets dressed, he used the moment to give his hard cock some relief. You immediately agreed and made your way back into the bedroom. Then you looked for a movie and built your nest with his shirts again.

Steve got a few snacks and drinks for the two of you and now you’re cuddled up into his side, his hand caressing your back softly while you watch the movie. It’s almost finished and you can’t wait to get some sleep, the cramps in your stomach getting worse but you try to ignore that and hide it from Steve.

Your best friend feels your tensing, his hand snaking around your waist to your lower stomach and he draws small circles on it, cashing you to sigh softly. The cramps aren’t completely gone but it’s definitely feeling really good when Steve caresses your skin as softly as he does right now.

When the movie ends you’re settling properly in bed, your back turned toward Steve and your knees close to your chest to try to get rid of the cramps. Steve feels your tension and he would love to help you but he won’t pressure you so he just tried to get some sleep himself.

After a few hours where you just tossed and turned around, Steve is still awake, knowing that you’re asleep. Your whimpers are louder as before and your scent is surrounding him, his mind goes dizzy and he can’t focus on anything else than you.

As hard as he tries to push the alpha inside of him to the side he can’t stop it anymore, needs you — needs to comfort you and needs to be inside you to give himself some relief too.

He slowly rolls to the side, you’re curled up into a little ball next to him, whimpering and tears fall down your cheeks but you’re still asleep. Steve reaches his hand out to slide over your arm, causing you to shiver lightly, his fingers brush over the soft skin of your arm to your shoulder. He puts some pressure on you, causing you to turn on your back while he guides his fingers over your breast.

A needy whine leaves your lips and you wake up slowly, noticing the soft touches. Steve smirks when you open your eyes and look at him with your sleepy expression. You look just so adorable and he can’t get his eyes off of you.

“W—What are you doing, Stevie?” You ask, his touch is still soft but intimate already. It’s not like it bothers you but you wonder what happens because he had himself always under control.

A low groan leaves his lips and his eyes are almost completely dark while he stares at you. His tongue poking out, wetting his lips. “Need to comfort you, ‘mega. Fucking need you, ‘m so hard for you and it will help you with your cramps, omega.”

His voice is rough and you shiver when you nod slightly. Steve’s fingers wrap around your breast, squeezing the soft flesh through your shirt before he pinches your nipple slightly. He causes moans to escape your mouth, groaning when he does that, his cock twitching in his pants and he can’t wait to bury his cock in his home — your tight, wet pussy.

Steve’s hand slides lower, over your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He doesn’t have much control anymore, he just needs you so bad. While his hand snakes over your body he sits up to get in between your legs.

“Spread those pretty legs for me, princess,” he mumbles, his big hand now caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh while he pushes them softly apart. He then gets in between them, his thick thighs touching yours and you can feel his tensed muscles, his soft curly hair on his thighs against your skin.

Your best friend towers over you, his veiny hands on your thighs while you look at him. Your eyes roaming over his body, from his handsome face over his broad chest to his highly defined abs before you reach the big bulge underneath his boxer briefs.

“Look so pretty, and you smell so good. Can’t sleep with your soft whimpers and this fucking scent of yours all around me,” the Alpha groans, moving a bit until his chest is on top of yours hand he thrusts his hips forward.

You can feel his hard dick and fat balls through the fabric, rubbing against your already wet pussy and causing you to moan louder.

“That’s what you need, don’t you, omega? Need a cock to fill you. Need my cock to fill you,” he says, voice low and you can’t help but shiver about the tone in his voice.

Steve used to talk to you with such a soft and sweet voice but right now there is nothing left of your sweet boyfriend, instead of him you have a big Alpha towering above you, ready to ruin you for every other man.

“Stevie, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re asking for — probably everything he is willing to give you. He grins at you, his one hand grasping your chin to make you look him deep into his beautiful eyes while he pushes his hips forward.

“What do you want, ‘mega?” He asks, knowing exactly what you need and want but he doesn't want to give it to you just yet. He wants you begging and whining for his cock.

“Need you, please. Alpha, need your cock, please, your knot, fill me with it,” you beg, blushing when those words leave your lips. You have never felt that vulnerable and embarrassed, never begged for an Alpha's cock — and never thought you would beg for your best friend's dick.

Steve smirks, letting go of you to lean back to finally take off his clothes. You follow his movements with your eyes when he gets up and stands next to the bed, leaving you all needy and desperate for him.

“S—“ you want to ask him why he doesn’t give you his cock even though you asked nicely but just when you want to ask, he grasps the waistband of his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.

Your mouth drops open when his hard cock springs free. His length is huge, a vein running along the underside of it, the tip read and leaking with pre-cum. His balls are just as huge as his cock and you wanna lick them, want him to stuff them into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sight, arousal flowing out of you, causing a wet spot in your panties.

“Stevie, it won’t fit, y—you’re soo big,” you say, pouting softly. He chuckles before he throws his shirt somewhere in the room to get on top of you again.

He plays with the hem of your shirt, pushing it slowly up to reveal your stomach, kissing and biting into your soft skin before he helps you out of it completely. A low groan slips past his lips when he admires your tits, his lips moving from your stomach to the swell of your left breast and he licks a strap over the soft flesh.

You arch your back, pussy pressing against his cock, while Steve sucks at your nipple, his teeth scratching softly over the skin while he twirls his tongue around it. He definitely knows what feels good, and you crave more of the pleasure and of him.

Steve’s hands move to your hips, pushing you down to stop you from grinding against him. You whine, trying to push against him but the alpha is way stronger than you and you end up wiggling underneath him until he raises his head and raises an eyebrow.

“Stop wiggling like a little slut, omega. Or I’m gonna treat you like one, so stay still and let me enjoy your sweetness before I’m going to ruin you,” he growls, bringing his lips back to your chest to continue sucking, biting and licking your soft skin.

Your best friend is already addicted to your soft chest, knowing that you’re going to ruin him for every other woman just as much as he is going to ruin you for every other man. Maybe he will ask you if he is allowed to claim you later or he will do it at another point, maybe making you beg for him to claim you. But he is at least sure that he is going to make you his, with your permission but he is sure you don’t want someone else when you can have your best friend as your Alpha. Just as much as he wants you to be your alpha, he wants to wear the mark of your bond on his skin as well, letting everyone know that he belongs to you.

“Steve, please. Need you so bad, don’t tease me, please,” you whine, pushing your chest up and press it against his face. He growls against you, sending vibrations through your body, while he pins your waist with his hands into the bed.

“Stop the whining or you won’t get my cock at all. Had to wait to get you so long, denying me all the time,” he says, biting into the swell of your breast to underline his words — his desperation.

He slowly moves his lips further down to your stomach, his fingers gliding to the waistband of your panties and he hooks them into it, tugging at it slightly before he lets it snap back against you.

Even though he doesn’t want you to whine and wiggle, he enjoys the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips — needy and begging for him.

Steve wouldn’t have told you that his Alpha is craving you, he knew you wouldn’t like to ruin your friendship and he didn’t want to do it either. But now? Having you whining and whimpering next to him, during your heat. His anger that you didn’t tell him and tried to hide it from him combined with his Alpha instincts makes him go crazy and feral for you.

Your best friend sits up, sliding the thin frantic down to reveal your dripping pussy. He tried his best to remove your panties without destroying them but the smell of your arousal, your dripping pussy and your fucked out look already lets him forget about his actual plan.

You hear your panties being ripped into two pieces before he throws them somewhere into the room. You want to protest, telling him that they were one of your favorite pairs of panties but every thought disappears when the Alpha places one of his hands on your lower stomach, his thumb finding its way to your clit and he presses down against your sensitive spot.

“Good girl, such a sweet omega. Look at you, dripping for your Alpha,” he says, grinning at you when he moves his fingers lower, parting your soaked folds while he admires your glistening skin down there. “Yeah, so ready for me, look at you, all ready for my cock.”

You feel your cheeks heat up with his intense stare at your most intimate part. Steve brings his other hand to your wet entrance, pushing one of his digits against your tight hole before he circles his fingers around it. You’re moaning underneath his soft touches, trying to close your legs but his thick thighs hold them spread apart.

Steve’s cock is painfully hard, leaking down his shaft and he just wants to thrust into you but he wants to be at least a bit nice and prepare you first, will he? You’re dripping down your ass and onto the sheets already, so maybe he could just push inside of you and enjoy your walls gripping his cock?

“Princess?” He asks, waiting for you to nod your head. When you do, his expression softens and he removes his hands from your pussy and brings them back to your hips. “Do you want me to stretch you open on my fingers first or would you mind me just stretching you open on my cock? I will be careful, but I need you so bad, ‘mega.”

“Split me open with your cock, Alpha, please. Need your cock, Stevie,” you beg, feeling his thick tip against your pussy. Steve groans, he wasn’t prepared for you begging for his cock like that when he offers you to destroy your pussy.

“But you will tell me to stop when you can’t handle my cock. Just say red and I will stop. Yellow when you want me to slow down and green when I can continue, get it, omega?” He asks with his soft voice and you nod, this time it’s not enough of an answer for him and your best friend raises an eyebrow at you. You shiver lightly underneath him, his intense looks and his touches make your mind go dizzy and you can’t focus on anything but him and his cock.

“Y—Yes, Alpha,” you mumble, your fingers digging into the sheet and you buck your hips. Steve’s cock slides through your folds, causing both of you to moan.

With a soft smile he leans down, his lips touching yours for a soft kiss before he snakes one of his hands between your bodies to his cock. Steve looks deep into your eyes while he lines his cock up with your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, his red tip stretching you open and your jaw drops open when you feel how thick he really is.

“Color, omega?” Steve’s one hand is still holding your waist, pushing you into the mattress while he places his other next to you shoulder to hold himself up above you. His lips trailing all over your face, leaving soft kisses while he entered you inch by inch.

“Green! It’s so fucking green,” you moan, arching your back until Steve’s chest is pressed against yours.

He chuckles at you, actually he would tell you to not use that kind of words but your pussy is hugging his cock too well to think about something like that right now. Steve pushes forward until he is balls deep into you, stretching you out like no one else could.

You’re panting, hands gripping his back while you try to ground yourself. Steve doesn’t move, waiting for you to adjust before he’s going to ruin you completely. Your pussy is burning lightly, the stretch still the most pleasurable feeling you ever had and you want him to finally move, finally fuck you.

“St— Alpha, please. Move!” You whine, legs wrapping around his legs and you dig your feet into his thighs. But Steve doesn’t move, he smirks at your desperation, his cock seated perfectly warm and wet inside of your tightness while he feels your slick flowing down your ass and all over his balls.

“You’re so desperate, gimme a moment to enjoy the moment of your pussy before I’m gonna destroy it,” he growls, smirking at you before he presses his lips softly against yours. His tone is the complete opposite of his soft kisses and you whimper.

Steve’s cock is twitching inside of you, you’re sure that you can feel every vein of his length and it makes you want him more. Your best friend bites into your lower lip, causing you to whine before he pulls his cock out of you.

“You’re sure, omega?”

“Wasn’t ever more sure than that, Stevie!”

Those words are all he needs before he slams his cock into you. You almost scream about the sudden pain inside of you. His cock hitting your cervix and your eyes widen when you realize that he is really going to ruin your pussy with his huge cock. Steve thrusts his hips forward and backward, pushing into you with such force that you’re sure you’re going to hit the headboard of the bed when he wouldn’t hold you in place by your hips.

“S-Stevie, p-please,” you beg, not sure what you’re begging for because he fucks you so hard, that you can’t ask for more but you don’t want him to stop either.

Steve chuckles, his fingers brushing through your hair, his lips trailing along your jaw, while he speeds his thrusts up. His balls slapping against your ass, his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you, while you squeeze him tightly, sucking him deeper into your greedy pussy.

“Take it, fuck— take it, omega. Doing so well, fuck, feeling so good. Pussy is gripping my cock and not letting me move easily, princess,” Steve swears under his breath, his knot growing and his balls tightening while he thrusts hard into you.

He needs you to come for him so badly, he wants you to come on his cock twice — one time just one his cock and the second time together with him. Steve wants to feel your pussy clenching even more around him and needs your walls to grip him until he can barely move inside of you.

He smirks mischievously at you, groaning when you squeeze his cock. He then lowers his face to your neck, sucking at your soft skin, he wants to claim you, but he doesn’t want to do it without asking you and he isn’t sure if you could answer properly. Steve loves you, but claiming you would mean forever and he doesn’t want to ask you when you’re cock drunk and in a state you would probably agree with everything as long as he is keeping his cock inside of you.

So he only scratches his teeth over the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking until he leaves dark blue and purple bruises all over your neck. He never slows his pace down, as much as he wants to come already, he learned to hold it for a while.

“Touch yourself, ‘mega. Make yourself come on my cock, fuck— Your pussy feels perfect around me, made for my cock, princess,” Steve mumbles. He feels your hand sliding between your bodies to your core.

He definitely needs to make you touch yourself when he is just watching you. He is sure he would almost come in his pants from just watching when you touch yourself but right now his goal is another one — making you come before he allows himself to come and when you’re just laying underneath him, cock drunk and whimpering you can at least help him to make you come on his cock.

“Stevie, please, need you to come inside of me, need your cum, your knot, please,” you whimper, circling your clit. Your eyes fall shut when you feel the knot in your stomach tightening. Your pussy is squeezing Steve more and he needs all of his control to not come immediately.

“Come, princess. Soak my cock, come all over it,” he groans, speeding his thrusts up. It only needs a few more thrusts against your sweet spot before you come around his cock.

Your cock drops open, your fingers digging into his muscular back, while Steve doesn’t slow down his pace. His cock pulsing inside of you, your walls gripping him more and sucking him deeper, making it almost impossible for him to move.

Steve slides his fingers still through your hair, fucking you through your orgasm. “Look at you, doing so well for your Alpha. Squeezing my cock so well, a feeling so perfect when you come around it, and you’re looking so fucking beautiful when you come, princess.”

Your best friend's praises make you smile softly and you open your eyes, staring into his ocean blue ones, when he slows the pace of his thrusts down.

“Don’t stop, Alpha, p-please, need your cum,” you whimper, pouting. Steve shakes his head, still moving his cock inside of you, while he calms you down.

“Don’t worry, omega. I will give you whatever you ask for,” Steve tells you, kissing you softly before he picks up his pace again. His cock slamming into you, not caring that your pussy is all sensitive from your last orgasm. As long as you don’t tell him to stop he won’t stop fucking you — his sweet little omega.

“Feel that? Feel my knot growing for you? Giving you all my cum, fuck— Princess, you feel so good. Thought I would ruin you for every other Alpha but looks like you’re doing the same with me, Omega.”

You giggle softly before Steve slams his cock back into you again. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix over and over again. Soft pain with much pleasure filling your body and you’re addicted to that feeling — addicted to your best friend and his cock.

“So cock drunk, aren’t you? Come, omega, give me another one, know you can do it, come all over my cock,” he growls into your ear, his breath hitching when you squeeze his cock once again.

You didn’t know you could come that fast after your first orgasm but you feel the pressure in your lower stomach growing once again. Your breath is heavy, your body just as sweaty as Steve’s and your legs start to shake.

“S—Stevie, I’m so close, please. Alpha, need your knot, so badly,” you utter, nails digging into his skin and you’re sure you leave marks on your back.

Your Alpha smirks at your request, but gives it gladly to you. He hasn’t planned to stop fucking you before he comes so your request is just the perfect addition to his needs.

Your walls are pulsing, his cock is twitching and you feel his knot growing inside of your pussy, stretching it even more. “Fuck, come, omega, now!”

Steve’s low voice, his demand and his cock hitting all the right spots brings you over the edge once again. You’re screaming his name, squirting all over him, when he comes inside of you with an animalistic groan. His cum painting your walls and it feels like he doesn’t stop to come at all. His knot holding his cock inside of you, Steve’s not able to pull his cock out — not that he wants to.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel that? Feel all my fucking cum? Just for you, princess, giving it all to you, my sweet omega,” he mumbles while you both catch your breath.

Tears fall down your cheeks and only his weight on top of you helps you to ground yourself. The feeling of your orgasm and his cock and cum so deep inside of you is just overwhelming and you can’t help but let the tears fall down your cheeks.

When Steve lifts his head to look at you his expulsion changes immediately into a worried one. His big hands slides to your cheek, wiping the tears away before he presses his lips down to remove the trails of them.

“Color, princess? Too rough? Too much? Aww princess, you were so good for me, you took my cock like a good girl, yeah, squirting all over me, was it too much?” Steve asks, not giving you a moment to answer while he praises you over and over again. You shake your head, whimpering when he moves softly, his cock shifting slightly inside of you as well.

“I— You weren't too rough, I loved it, Stevie. B—But, I-Iloveyou,” you say quietly, muffling your words when you press your face into the crook of your best friend's neck.

You didn’t think that Steve got what you said since you muffled your sounds and tried to speak as fast as possible but he understood it and smirks softly. His big hand is still caressing your cheek, while he swirls a strand of your hair around his thick fingers.

“I love you too, princess. But I understand when you don’t want me to claim you, or want to have another kind of relationship with me than friendship. I love you, as my best friend but also as my omega. But I won’t pressure you into something, princess,” he assures you, letting himself fall down on top of you, to let you feel more of his broad body.

You immediately wrap your arms tighter around his back, inhaling his scent. “Would you also— would you ever betray me when I’m not enough for you anymore? Maybe you will find a better Omega and love her more then?”

“Princess, stop that. Don’t think like that, you’re more than enough, so much love and affection inside of your big heart. Why should I ever want someone else when I can have you?” He asks, pushing you softly back while he looks into your eyes — and you see nothing but love in them, the truth, like a promise.

“Why are you always so fucki—“

“Omega!” Steve warns, raising an eyebrow when you giggle softly. You feel a tingle inside of your body and your pussy clenches when he talks to you like that. Steve growls, throwing his head back. “That’s what you like, huh?”

You nod your head, even though your pussy is answering for you too. “But you were swearing the whole time, Stevie,” you pout, giggling more when he pokes his fingers into your sides.

“That’s a difference, I just fucked you and wasn’t able to focus on something that wasn’t your pussy, princess,” he smirks, kissing you softly when you blush. “I love you, and I will protect you, let me make you mine next time. There is no one I could want when I have you.”

You nod, leaning up to chase his lips for a much needed kiss — no desperation, no roughness, just love and the promise you make to one another. “Oke, but only when I get a bubble bath now, with a lot of bubbles and you!”

He rolls his eyes playfully but agrees, kissing you softly before he turns the two of you around and gets up, his cock still inside of you, when he carries you into the bathroom to run you a warm bubble bath. He doesn’t care how late it is, that you should sleep, his princess needs a bubble bath with him? You get a bubble bath with him plus a massage and as many cuddles as you want.

“I love you too Stevie. And when you already pumped me full you could have asked to claim me already!”

“You were such a little cock drunk slut for me, princess. But I will make you mine before we go home tomorrow, we have all night to make you lose your mind on my cock,” he grins, kissing the top of your head when he slips his cock out of you and places you on the toilet to run a bath.

“I guess you’re the one who is going crazy with his cock in my pussy, Stevie. Or what were you thinking about when you jerked off earlier that day?”

You knew what he did in the shower, you have seen his hard cock for a brief moment but it was enough for you to see it being rock hard. And you’re not dumb, you know exactly when your best friend takes a shower because he needs one or because he has to need one. Steve blushes softly when you mention it, but then he smirks.

“Can’t help myself with such a sweet omega around me. My omega, princess,” Steve utters, picking you up from the toilet to place you in the warm water with a whole lot of bubbles before he gets into the bathtub behind you, pulling you close against him. Steve’s broad chest pressing against your back and you sight softly when you place your head against his shoulder and letting his big hands wander over your thighs and stomach, drawing small circles on your skin.

// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @felicitylemon @cjand10 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @blackhawkfanatic @multiversefanfics @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @elyse-harper81 @loki-laufeyson68

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hedwig221b · 17 days ago

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Do you have any Bad Friend Scott sterek fic recs?

Sorry for taking so long to answer! Here are a few

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

Sparks and shadows by Nival_Vixen

Stiles has to figure out a way to maintain a balance between his spark and the darkness inside of him.

spiderweb of lies by pineneedlepants

Derek gets a chance to gain his alpha powers back. The only one throwing a wrench in those plans is Scott.

Can't Start a Fire Without a Spark by Nerdy_fangirl_57

After the whole ordeal with the nogitsune Stiles struggles with proving to himself that he can be good again. He starts learning to control his spark in hopes that he could be helpful to the pack once he manages to channel it's power. Everyone thinks it's a great idea and are willing to help him anyway they can, but Scott, Scott doesn't see the point in it. It's not like Stiles' tiny spark could ever be powerful enough to be an actual asset to the pack. Stiles just wants a chance to prove himself.

Stiles Must Die by xcaellachx

Diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia, Stiles is given 2-6 months to live. He and his father know Scott will give Stiles the bite to cure him. Scott says no. "Stiles must die to maintain the balance." The Sheriff finds a different way.

Made Your Mark on Me (A Golden Tattoo) by writteninthewolfstar

Beacon Hills High and Lycan Heights High are well-known enemies. Derek Hale, Lycan Heights' star quarter-back, is well-known for being aggressive and arrogant. Imagine Stiles surprise when he discovers that Derek Hale is actually his soul-mate.

The End, The Beginning by CoronaCrown

Scott had never trusted Derek, and even less so when he found out that the Hale Alpha was dating Stiles. Poor, naive Stiles, who was only human and broke easily. Scott would be damned it he let the feral wolf do anything to his friend, but even the Sheriff is wrapped around Derek's finger, it's not going to be easy to take what's his: Stiles back in the McCall pack. And so when a month after graduation and Scott had heard nothing of Derek, he is immediately suspicious. He's sure the wolf's done something to Stiles, the stupid human probably fell for whatever siren trick Derek pulled. In which Scott is so self-absorbed that he decides to play the hero for a prize that was never his to begin with.

Leave It All Behind by asarcasticwitch

A coil of panic tightens in his chest as, after just three short rings, Derek’s voice—raspy as if barely awake—echoes through the speaker. “Do you know what time it is?” he grumbles, and at any other time, Stiles would’ve made a joke or retorted with something so sarcastic it would’ve undoubtedly earned him a huff in return. But right now, he can’t think of anything to say.

To Build a Pack by Arieanna

Derek feels a pull in his chest, and it's a pack bond to Stiles. He thought the young man had betrayed him along with Scott, but finding out the truth, he makes Stiles a part of his pack. Now, with the pack coming together in a healthy way, they help Stiles discover that he's not just a sidekick, but a major player, and more important than Scott had ever given him credit for. The more Derek pulls Stiles into the pack, though, the harder it is to ignore the feelings that he's been having for the boy since they met. Stiles, on the other hand, has fallen out of love with Lydia, and can't figure out just why that happened.

Elastic Heart by HarleyJQuin

A wolf in shining armor comes to the rescue when Stiles needs him the most.

The Sound of Silence by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions)

Everyone is so sure Derek is dead, but Stiles can't accept it. Not when there are so many loose ends.

I'm (Not) Fine by Desmenn

Scott is finally old enough to get bitten and turned. He doesn't even hesitate. Which leaves Stiles alone while his best friend runs off chasing girls and wolves. But trying to cheer up some melodramatic teenage boy is not at the top of the list of things that need to be done- and Stiles' knows it. Because there are people in town threatening the Hale pack and Derek can't shake this sense of foreboding. Not to mention he's pretty sure one of Scott's friends is his mate.

Bare Hands, Scarlet Dawn

“With your bare hands, baby?” Derek chuckled quietly. “Damn.” And Stiles… laughed. It was short and stiff, full of disbelief and something raw under its skin. But, god, only Derek could make him laugh when his entire world was crumbling down.

Full and Void

Stiles could be meek, sure. In Derek’s arms, softened under the touch, pinned under his weight. He allowed himself to relax only in Derek’s sole presence. Stiles could also look meek. Small, scared. Let the enemies think he was hiding in his mate’s shadow. After all, no one would stop to think that the shadow could ever be dangerous.

#sterek #sterek fic #stiles x derek #eternal sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf sterek #teen wolf stiles #teen wolf derek #sterek fic rec #teen wolf fic rec #derek x stiles #teen wolf #sterek ao3

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oh-katsuki · 11 months ago

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it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops

cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,

wc: 3.1k

nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.

frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.

he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.

you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.

you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.

"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."

"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."

"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."

nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.

"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."

"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.

"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."

"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."

nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.

you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.

you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.

you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.

one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.

"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.

nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.

"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."

"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."

you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"

"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."

nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.

you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.

nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."

"sorry," you say.

"don't be," he responds.

this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.

"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.

"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.

"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."

you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.

you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.

"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.

nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.

you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.

"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."

nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.

"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.

"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.

"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."

you shake your head, "you."

nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.

you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.

something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.

nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.

"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."

nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.

"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.

you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.

you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.

nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.

your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.

for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.

you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.

instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.

you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.

"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.

nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.

nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.

you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.

"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"

you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."

nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.

"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.

something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.

nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.

a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #tw: a/b/o #tw: breeding #tw: dubcon #i can't find my writing tag #also there are prob spelling mistakes in here i apologize #i apologize if this isnt very good

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iridescentxstars · 6 months ago

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-> 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 .ೃ࿐ [ — bangchan ][part one]

➳ published: 23.06.24 ➳ credit: banner: @aaagustd || beta: @wooahaeproductions ➳ werewolf!au || bakery!au || enemies to lover!au || genre: smut || angst || supernatural || fluff || dark || rating: m ➳ pairing: alpha!bangchan x bakery!reader (fem) ➳ summary: a decision in chris' past leads him down a road that brings him to his mate and even though he says he doesn't want her - it seems destiny, and others, won't take no for an answer. ➳ word count: 28.5k (this part) || total: tbc ➳ warnings: mentions of cheating (on the reader by an ex), violence, toxic behaviour, manipulation, unprotected sex, light degradation/praise, accidental claiming, drunk sex (still able to consent and make decisions), no aftercare ➳ author's note: hello, it's me! it has been 4734873294 years since i started this fic and wow, i hope you love it! the mc is affectionately nicknamed 'sugar' and has minor descriptors just to help flesh her out a little more and she is implied to be curvy and soft (no eye colour, name, etc.). ➳ taglist: @byunparklimchoi @djeniryuu @sanjoongie @honey-andmilktea (please let me know if you want to be tagged in future works)

Life has always been about the choices you make, the ones you allow to change the trajectory of your future. Sometimes, these decisions are terrible and you learn lessons that you may never have had to otherwise but others can put you on the path of a future that turns your life upside down in all the best ways.

This wasn’t the thought you had when your sister called and asked if you wanted to join her in a new adventure. That adventure happened to be starting a small business, a bakery, in this cute little town on the coast. You didn’t know whether it was something you really wanted to do with your newly acquired business degree but how could you say no? How could you possibly say no to Spice when she pouted, holding her hands and pleading that without her darling little sister, she couldn’t possibly make this work?

Six years in university, the better half of your twenties, and you were packing up your small apartment to move out of the city to a new town. A new life. A fresh start. Considering that your loser boyfriend of several months had cheated on you and the exhaustion that ultimately came with being a university student had drained you significantly; this change in scenery could be something that is actually beneficial to you – especially since you were about to build the cutest little bakery with your sister.

‘Everything Nice.’

It took a lot of planning, hours, blood, sweat, and tears but after several months and many, many mental breakdowns, you and your sister were proud owners of a bustling little business that slowly grew to be something loved by the locals and tourists alike. It might not have been as flashy as the bakeries you would frequent near your university but it was everything that you both had dreamed about.

Apparently, it was also something the locals needed as well. You had plenty of regulars who would come as soon as you opened up their doors and others who always came in on their breaks for something to treat themselves before rushing back to work.

Your routines had changed and you went from a life of the party girl to someone who would be exhausted in bed before 10pm. You missed your old lifestyle, you missed going out with friends and getting into trouble that often resulted in silly, fun stories the next day but you had to admit that living near the beach, surrounded by fresh air and forests, was peaceful. The months rolled into a year and it never wore off – that peace, the serenity, and the healing that comes with time. You had managed to grow, to learn, to find more to your life than chasing after boys and passing out in random beds every weekend.

Plus, you were able to bond with Spice and eat her delicious baking whenever you wanted.

Like right now, as the mouth-watering smell of freshly baked cookies wafts through the kitchen into the front of the bakery. You start to salivate, comedically following the sweet scent towards the viewing window and smiling at your sister. Serena, or Spice as you affectionately call her, is standing in the messy kitchen with her hair tied up in a messy bun and an apron on with flour over the front where she’s used it as a hand cloth. “Are they ready?” You stare intensely at the oven while Serena laughs in amusement, shaking her head, “what?!” Your voice raises an octave as you pull away from the window, heading towards the kitchen with the door swinging closed behind you as you enter.

“Nothing, I’m just surprised that our customers have anything to eat with the way that you are always ‘taste-testing’ everything I make.” Scrunching your cute nose up, you swipe one of the bakery’s signature chocolate chip cookies sitting on the tray and take a bite. The deliciousness is overpowered by the heat, causing you to tilt your head back and breathe out hot air with a whine. “You literally just watched me take it out of the oven, silly! What are you doing?” Oh, don't you look so funny trying to cool down the burning cookie in your mouth?

“I couldn’t wait! They smelled so good!” You tried to speak with your mouth full of goodness.

Clicking her tongue at you, Serena passes over a plate for you to quickly place down the cookie and grab a glass of milk to help soothe the burning sensation in your mouth. “Clearly.” She laughs when you begin acting a little more dramatically than you need to, helping the woman settle her nerves about the massive catering event later. “You can’t eat everything that comes out of the oven today, I’m sorry that you’ll have to make do with what we already have out the front. With the size of the catering order, I need every cookie I make.”

You smile and giggle, nodding your head as you grab your plate and take another bite, “don’t forget about our regular coming in today for his order!” You wave the cookie in goodbye before heading out to the front, just in time to hear the front doorbell chime, announcing a customer walking in. “He hasn’t missed a week since he started coming here!” Serena hums softly to show that she hasn’t forgotten and getting back to work, You turn to smile at the newcomer. “Hello!” You smile brightly, your cheeks soft and round, as you place your plate out of sight under the till. You walk out to the front of the store, past all the breads and pastries, to check over some of the items, “if you are after anything in particular, feel free to ask.” The customer bows in acknowledgement while browsing while you simply tidy the savoury displays up.

The day passes by rather quickly and you are certain that if you didn’t go and annoy Serena every few moments then she would lose her mind or drown in the amount of cookies and macarons that she has made today. You help where you can, mostly with the savoury items, placing all the food onto trays and organising them so that they are ready for pick up while Serena focuses on baking and making sure that nothing in the store is running low. A lot of work for you two but you both manage to get it done and before long, you are finally able to sit down on your little stool behind the counter. The clock indicates it’s time for the kitchen to start getting cleaned so now you can focus on selling whatever is left over so that you don’t have too much waste when closing.

You realise as you scroll through your notifications that the regular hasn’t arrived to collect his order and honestly, you pout at the thought that maybe he had forgotten; not only does Serena put extra effort into the order because he’s their first regular since you established the bakery and gained a reputation around town but also because… well, he’s hot. You know that the food isn’t just for him, the amount alone is way too much for one person to eat by themselves and it doesn’t matter whether it’s for friends or a girlfriend because you're far too shy to actually ask but you just like looking at him. From a distance, of course, you’re not that weird… or you hope not. He has this smile that makes you melt inside every time you see it and he is really friendly – is it wrong that you have a little crush?

“You could always help me with the cleaning, you know,” Serena pops her head through the door, glaring at the younger sister as you sit on your phone replying to a friend about a party happening in the city this weekend. It’s been a long time since you had gone and seen everyone and while most of the group that you spent time with in university are people you still get along with, there are some you could happily go without seeing ever again but your friend thought it’ll be good to catch up.

It should be fine, right? A party, plenty of people, it shouldn’t be that bad.

Looking over at Serena, you smile innocently, pointing to the front of the store where you had placed some of the sandwiches and pastries to entice people to come inside and see what else you had to offer. “Oh, but dearest sister, if I am out the back helping you then who is going to make sure that nobody is stealing your delicious goodies?”

Serena scoffs, raising an eyebrow as a man stops and looks over the assortment, “and what? If he stole a sandwich, would you chase him down the street and tackle him to the ground for theft?”

Gasping dramatically, you place your hand over your chest in faux offence, “Rude! Are you saying that I can’t run?”

“Can you?”

There’s a moment of silence before the two of you start to laugh, her head disappearing from the door to carry on with her closing while you stand up and place your phone in your apron pocket. Straightening out your dress, you try your best to stifle your laughter as the man walks inside with a brown paper bag full of sandwiches. “Welcome to Everything Nice!” You chime cheerfully, watching as he slowly walks around, grabbing a few extra items here and there before making his way to the counter.

The man’s attire stands out in contrast to your soft pastel purple dress, with pockets you like to point out. His black band tee has been made into a singlet by having the sleeves cut off and his black jeans are paired with some black boots and of course, you wonder where this man came from. “If you want anything else, everything is half-price since we are closing soon.” You smile at him, hoping that maybe his attitude is brighter than his wardrobe. You didn’t manage to get a good look at him earlier while he was strolling his way through the small bakery but when you take in his features, you pause, blinking slowly as you take him in.

Seriously, where in all that is holy did this man come from?

You’ve lived here for a while now, you’ve made friends with some of the locals but never have you laid eyes on this man but then… Why does he feel familiar? Not that you can figure it out right there but you’re certain you’ve never met. Yet, there’s this strange feeling, a flutter in your stomach as your eyes slowly trace over his face, that he is someone important, like a long-lost friend that you’ve forgotten.

Maybe more but surely not.

His deep brown, almost black, eyes are on you as he patiently waits for you to do something other than stare at him – like your job. His features are masculine, strong, and makes you wonder if he was in one of your classes but if you did go to school together, he’d have said something by now right? You have a good memory, most of the time, so you’re certain there’s no connection to him but it doesn’t chase away that feeling. Eerie. The sharpness of his jawline is in direct opposition to the softness of his full lips, which are currently pulled into a frown because instead of working – you’re openly staring at him and probably making him uncomfortable.

Scratch that. Definitely making him uncomfortable.

Clearing your throat, you pull your gaze away from his face with a tinge of pink colouring your cheeks. You hadn’t missed the size of his biceps when he crossed them over his chest while waiting, and the unholiest thought went through your mind in that moment – and a sudden need to know what it would be like to feel them around you.

Chris’ day started about as good as it would go walking across a room filled with mouse traps. As the Alpha of the Moonlight Grove Pack, he’s been stuck in discussion with other neighbouring packs about a peace deal. They’ve had a few close calls with some hunters lately and this way, they can keep under the radar to prevent them from getting any closer than they already are. Most of the Alphas have agreed to the terms of the deal as they all know that this is the best way for them to get through these next few months unscathed.

Hunters are always finding new ways to capture them, to destroy what they consider the darkness that haunts the forests but usually they give up after failed attempts to find a wolf. A lot of these packs have been here for generations, Chris’ pack being one of the oldest and while there are always risks that come with staying in one place, his father refused to run away and so does he.

There have always been talks about fighting back but an all-out war with the hunters isn’t a smart move and while Chris might have a short temper, he likes to play things smart; he’s not the type of Alpha who will rush into a fight without knowing whether he’s going to win or lose. He also doesn’t lose, or particularly like losing. He doesn’t care about wolf pride, he doesn’t care about fighting until his final breath, he couldn’t give a shit about all of that if it means being a mounted fucking head on the wall of some human who happened to be a good shot.

He’d rather keep his pack alive than have them torn apart like he’s seen with other packs.

Some of the rogues, however, are not as eager to back down and comply. They don’t care for peace, they don’t care about following orders and they also don’t care for hunters. This is why they left the packs that they were connected to, not wanting to be tied to some rules that forced them to bow down when they’d rather die fighting. It’s a painful thing to do but for some wolves, it’s better than being what they consider being cowardly.

The wolf rubs his chin as he thinks about the look on his old beta’s face when they stood nose to nose earlier during the meeting. Sure, it was a hit to the gut when he saw Minho standing there with the other rogues, his oldest friend having left the pack a year ago when Chris didn’t retaliate against the death of his mate. It’s not that he didn’t want to – fuck, the wolf in him wanted nothing more than to tear the entire pack apart with his best friend beside him. He wanted to provide vengeance, feel their necks snap in his strong jaws, and taste their blood on his tongue but nobody could have afforded a war then, just like they can’t now, so the Alpha took the diplomatic approach and had the offending wolf rejected from his pack.

It’s forbidden to kill another wolf’s mate, considered one of the most heinous crimes anyone can commit against their fellow wolf kind, and he should have died for the act but it wasn’t going to bring Minho’s mate back.

Minho had left shortly after, not wanting to follow his Alpha’s command about no violence, and sought out revenge on his own. This resulted in him severing his connection to the pack and that was the last time Chris had seen him.

Weak. That was what Minho had called him back then and the word swirls around in his mind as he remembers the incident. Shaking his head, Chris pushes away the thoughts as he rounds the corner to the pastel yellow bakery that he’s been frequenting for the past few months.

Not him directly since Felix, his new second in command, has been collecting his orders but it’s still him who pays for the orders.

He remembers hearing about Everything Nice opening up. The stir that the two sisters created when they moved into town and opened up the bakery was enough to have the Alpha and his pack curious about who they could be. It isn’t unusual for people to come and go but considering that the town isn’t what he would consider a dream location for two young women – their reasons for coming here did cause rumours to fly around. He scoffs, thinking about how easily amused people can be when they have mundane lives of their own because realistically, he couldn’t care less about why they had moved here. The only reason he had been curious was because this was his territory and he wanted to make sure they weren’t going to bring trouble with them.

It makes sense though, a bakery like theirs should be doing well here as it’s a business that has no competition, locals that’ll happily purchase their treats, and during the summer, tourists coming for the beach.

While Chris may not really care about their reason, as he approaches and looks over the sandwiches left outside, he does admit they made really good bread. He fills up a paper bag and heads inside, his nose instantly bombarded with an abundance of smells that make his stomach growl in hunger.

“Welcome to Everything Nice!” A soft and sweet voice calls to him when he enters the bakery, the bell ringing above the door almost unheard as he looks over in her direction briefly before he looks back at the other items in his path, half listening to what she’s saying. Something about deals. Chris hums, more to himself than anything, looking over the pastries and grabbing a few extra items since he knows that the boys will complain about him not bringing them back as much as he can carry.

Who said he was a bad Alpha? Like fuck he is.

When he finally reaches the counter, placing all the bags on the glass bench, he watches as the woman’s eyes widen, her mouth slightly parting in shock and it takes everything in him to refrain from sighing as she openly checks him out. Honestly, it’s not unusual for him to gain this type of reaction from women and it’s usually followed by some type of hair twirl and batting of the eyelashes. In the past, he would have engaged, flirted with them, and gotten their number but today – he doesn’t care… oh?

All that happens is that the woman blushes as she rings everything up on the till.

Interesting.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” Chris’ lip twitches slightly, amused that despite her attempt to seem unaffected, it’s obvious that she is with the way her voice hitches slightly and her heart is racing.

Tilting his head to the side, Chris checks her out with the same openness that she had before, causing her to get more flustered by his actions. There’s something about her, something he isn’t going to try to figure out while everyone is waiting for him so he hums, nodding his head instead of asking for her name.

Maybe he’s fucked her back in university.

“I have an order here, it should be ready by now.” He speaks, his voice softer than usual but still holding that timbre that has most women swooning for him. “The order is under the name ‘Christopher’.”

“Oh?” She sounds a little surprised, confused maybe, but she doesn’t elaborate as she nods her head and turns on her heels to grab a large box from behind her. “I was wondering when he was going to come in, can you tell him I said hi?”

Chris raises an eyebrow, it’s not hard to figure out this woman is under the impression that Felix is him. It’s not surprising really, it’s not like there was a photo attached to his name but surely the beta would have said his name at some point… it’s been months. “Are you close with him?” Felix hasn’t really spoken about her specifically but he does always hear the beta talk about the two sisters and how cute the younger one is, bright and cheerful, as sweet as the cupcakes that they make.

She shakes her head, the softest smile on her face. “Mm, not super close, no. He’s our favourite regular, especially since lately, he brings us flowers.” She brings his attention to the bouquet of freshly picked peonies and it takes everything in Chris not to growl in annoyance. Those are from his garden, he was wondering what was happening to his flowers and why they were oddly disappearing. “We are very happy to have his support!”

Oh, it would be so easy to burst that little bubble of hers but Chris decides that he’s not going to do that – yet. Instead, he takes a deep breath, inhaling in an addictively sweet, sugary scent mixed with the peonies, and forces himself to smile. He’s going to have fun with this, it’s been a while since he was able to fuck around like this so why not pick on the human who doesn’t know better. Not only is Felix never allowed to come and collect his order anymore, but he’s going to see how long he can drag this out.

Does he need to do this? Absolutely not but with everything going on lately, he needs the entertainment.

“Ah, well, I’ll make sure to let him know,” he passes the woman his card, noticing that she doesn’t even bother to check the name on the card as she swipes it down the machine and hands it back to him. “See you next time,” he winks, making that deliciously pink tinge return to her cheeks, grabbing the handles of the bags and heads for the door. “I swear to the fucking Moon Goddess, Felix…” he growls through gritted teeth as the door swings closed behind and he walks with purpose back towards his car.

His peonies? Seriously?

The man comes in to collect the order every time over the next month, the order that is his and you still haven’t figured it out. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t told you that it’s his so how else would you know this? It must really amuse him whenever you pass on your wishes to Felix… or well, him. He walks in, carrying a few extra items from out the front every time, and would even buy a loaf of bread or a small pack of cupcakes on top of the order. “For myself,” he says while you neatly box everything up and place a little discount coupon for him to use the next time he comes in.

You have learned that he’s not one for conversation, choosing to listen unless you directly ask him questions but it’s clear that he’s observing everything around them; like he needs to be aware of his surroundings at all times, which has you wondering who he is for him to be so on edge like that. He’s definitely not famous… maybe it’s an ex that he’s trying to avoid seeing. Sometimes, he makes a few teasing comments that cause your cheeks to heat up because you don’t know whether this insanely attractive man is actually flirting with you or if he’s just pushing your buttons since you’ve been caught several times checking him out.

Yeah, you’re not exactly subtle about it.

“So, are you a part of the ‘everything nice’?” He asks one Friday afternoon, leaning his hip against the counter, arms folded as the black tee he wears strains over the muscles of his chest. Dark, curious eyes twinkling lightly as he looks you up and down before making their way to your face, watching your reaction.

You giggle, playfully rolling your eyes because that isn’t the first time someone has tried their luck with that particular pick up line. Every single guy that has walked into the bakery has tried it but honestly, it almost works with the amount of confidence he spoke with and that smirk on his lips has you feeling like you could melt. He could ask you for anything and you’d probably agree. Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, you pack the items. “You do know that you aren’t the first person to say that, right? I’ve had three guys use that on me already.” You shake your head, amused, before entering the total into the EFTPOS machine, and the man hands over the card.

A low hum escapes him as he tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, “And you turn them all down because you have someone already?”

“Well, I didn’t say that, did I?” Your lips quirk upwards into a teasing smile as you pass the card back to him, meeting his eyes and you wonder if that’s interest swirling within those dark irises or if he always looks this intense. Probably both. Either way, it really does something to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

He’s about to say something, clearly wanting to be able to continue this, but the ringing of his phone cuts the conversation short and he pulls away. “I’ll see you around, sugar~.” He says as he grabs everything before taking his leave and of course, you watch him as he goes.

Damn, he’s got such a nice ass.

“What is it?” Chris growls lowly into his phone as he walks out of the bakery, not glancing back even though he can feel the pretty woman’s eye on him, watching him closely leaves. Oh, it’s tempting to turn back and watch her fluster when she knows that he caught her staring. The way her cheeks go the loveliest shade of pink every time and her eyes widen like a deer in headlights before trying to busy herself has started to become his favourite reaction yet.

He’s wearing the same style as he always has when he’s come to visit, a black tee that fits him perfectly, sometimes missing the sleeves but always hinting at the strong muscles hiding underneath, and some kind of black pants. His wardrobe doesn’t really have a lot of variety these days but he couldn’t really give a shit about it when he had more to worry about than being some kind of fashion icon. His short black hair isn’t usually styled since he’s often running his fingers through it all day so it’s slightly messy by the time he arrives and while Chris doesn’t care if he looks particularly show stopping – she seems to find it to be with the way she’s looking. Maybe she’s looking for a prospective mate, she seems to be in that age where women are usually doing that, and the way she’s checking him out makes it clear that the woman is single but if a mate is something she’s after… Chris is not the man for her.

Even in the cutest dresses that change every single time he comes in, even when her smile seems to take up all of his attention that he forgets why he’s there, and even when her scent lingers around him, drawing him in – Chris is not the man for her.

He’d be the worst thing to happen to a human and oh, this woman is far too precious to break. Like that, anyway.

A name grabs his attention, pulling his wandering thoughts away from the sweetest thing he’s laid his eyes on and causes his jaw to clench. “He left. What the fuck is he doing hanging around my territory?”

When a wolf leaves the pack they are in, depending on the circumstances they are either forbidden to return or can come and go without consequences. It’s not that Chris has actually told Minho and his little band of wayward followers that they can’t visit the pack territory, it’s more about why they are here. His former beta only comes when he wants something or wants to cause trouble and from the way the wolf has been hanging around lately - something is coming Chris hates that he’s in the dark about it.

“He still hasn’t told you his name?” Serena walks out of the kitchen when the man leaves, watching as you walk back from having locked the door behind him and trying to get one last look at the tasty treat of a man before he disappears for another week. “You’d think that because he’s picking up the order, he would have given you a name too.” She leans a shoulder against the wall and looks at the front door with that disapproving big sister scowl.

Shrugging your shoulders, you pout slightly because she has a good point. You had been meaning to ask for his name, maybe his number, but the chance never really came up since it’s not like he’s very forthcoming with any type of chatter unless he’s flirting and making your poor heart stutter. “If he’s hot then there’s surely going to be some kind of red flag about him,” you recite the saying that you and your friends would say whenever they found a new fling. Spice looks at you for a moment, lips pursed as if she’s about to say something but then decides against it; instead, she sighs and heads over to the register to start the cash up while you put everything away and begin closing down the store.

Usually, you get rather chatty, laughing and playing music as you clean up but tonight, the both of you want to get out of there as quickly as possible. You both have plans, plans that will end the week on a good note and you don’t want to waste a moment since you still need to head upstairs and get ready.

Girls night. It has been a while since you have managed to get your sister to get out to Seoul and you want nothing more than to go catch up with your friends, let loose, and paint the town red. While the town has a nightclub or two, it is always the same people who frequent them and it is so hard to be free for the night when one mistake could end up becoming the town’s gossip the next day.

You also refuse to have to serve the man at any point afterward.

Once everything has been done, you lock the back door behind her, rattling the handle to make sure it’s locked before rushing up the stairs behind Serena. Your two-bedroom apartment is conveniently located above the bakery and helps you both out with travel costs since you don’t need to commute to work. Most people who come from the city might say that it is a downgrade and in a sense, it is; modest and small, half the size of what you once had but it has everything two women could possibly need. You love the space and you don’t have to pay a ridiculous amount of rent for the place. Your bra comes off immediately as soon as you close the door and kick off your shoes. “You know…” You start as you flop down onto the couch and drop the cursed item of clothing onto the floor.

“No,” Serena states as she places her bag down on the table and shakes her head while you lift yours to look over at her, appalled that you were shot down before you could even state your case. “Your breasts are big enough that you will be able to tell that you aren’t wearing a bra. We want people to come into the bakery for our food - not men coming in to stare at your nipples.”

Sitting up, you frown at your older sister like a child who has just been told off by a parent, “That’s rude.” You grumble before getting up and heading to your room. “Since you’re being such a spoilsport, I’m going to use the shower first!” You poke your tongue out before pretending to stomp your feet on your way out.

Serena hums in acceptance as if to simply please the tantrum you’re having while continuing her own routine. You toss your bra into the washing basket in the corner near your bed before going to the wardrobe to browse through your clothes. You want something that’ll catch attention, something that’ll help make sure that the pent-up sexual frustration will be taken care of because you refuse to resort to Tinder in this tiny town. Imagine sleeping with the guy who always messes up your coffee order!

Oh? This should do perfectly. You think to herself as you find a pretty red dress with a very low cut, revealing back.

“You look like you’re going to try and get in trouble.” Your sister comments when she gets out of the shower and finds you sitting at your vanity doing your makeup. You’re taking your time to make sure that you look dangerous, your hair a little wild and your makeup bold, you want to look like you could catch the attention of those mafia boyfriends you love to read about.

Maybe enough to catch the attention of a dangerous man who frequents the bakery. You can only hope.

Smiling proudly, you stand up and twirl around before striking a silly pose, causing Serena to laugh. “Thank you~. I’m going for the deadly Queen vibe.” You pucker your lips, making herself look even more ridiculous in the hopes that it’ll help your sister loosen up about the night. She’s protective, she always has been, and while you love her to the moon and back – she needs to leave that protectiveness behind for one night and focus on getting laid.

Not that you’ll actually tell her that… okay, maybe you will. Who knows what you’ll do? The night is young.

A hand claps on his shoulder, causing Chris to tense briefly before he relaxes and turns his head to face Felix. The younger wolf smiles at the approaching bartender before telling her the orders that the Alpha didn’t provide before. “The whole reason to say you’ll order drinks is to actually, you know, order the drinks, man,” Felix speaks quietly, throwing a concerned look at the other. Chris looks like he’s suffering from a headache from the music but really, the ear-splitting volume isn’t the reason. “You coming back to the table?”

The both of them look over at the table in question and Chris’ upper lips curl, a low grow emitting from deep within his chest. The reason for the possible headache is smiling over at them, waving his fingers before looking around the room. He doesn’t know why he agreed to this, coming to a nightclub to have a serious talk like this but apparently, this is considered neutral ground. Being out of the territory and surrounded by humans would mean that they would all be on their best behaviours but that’s where they underestimate who they are dealing with – Minho doesn’t exactly have a ‘best behaviour’. Scheming, ruthless, and manipulative, Minho has always been good at getting himself into trouble, equally as good at getting out of it too, and this setting wouldn’t actually stop the wolf from causing trouble.

It’ll only stop all of them from starting a fight in a place where hunters could be lurking.

“You could ease up on the alcohol, you know,” Chris says pointedly, helping Felix grab the drinks placed in front of them. It’s not unusual for Felix to be with him since he is the second in command but Felix isn’t a warrior. He was never trained to be a fighter like the betas usually are, he’s smart, and fast but he’s more of a gentle soul. The only reason Felix is with him tonight and not someone like Changbin is because there is too much bad blood between Minho and the other betas and Chris is reducing the drama as much as he can tonight; they might not have a blast but they can get through it alive at least. “Now,” Chris clears his throat when they both approach the table, placing the drinks down before taking a seat and leaning back into the worn black leather. Folding his arms over his chest, he looks at the former pack wolf, eyes narrowing slightly, “We’ve had a few drinks, what the fuck do you want?”

Minho acts like he has all the time in the world as he grabs his drink, ignoring the question while taking a sip. It’s obvious that he’s exerting his freedom, showing he doesn’t have to respond to the Alpha if he doesn’t want to. However, when Minho finally speaks, Chris is sure that he’s had too many drinks to be serious. Alcohol doesn’t affect wolves the same way that it does humans, supernatural healing allows them to filter out the effects faster so it takes a lot to get them drunk but there is no way he said something that fucking insane without being drunk. Chris snorts while Felix coughs into his glass before looking as dumbfounded as the older. “Shall I repeat myself?” Minho says calmly, looking over the rim of his glass at his former Alpha, “I. Want. To. Challenge. You.” Each enunciated word sounds as ridiculous as the first time he said it.

“Are you fucking brain dead? You can’t be serious?” Chris laughs shortly in disbelief.

Minho remains perfectly at ease as he places his glass down, his eyes flash for a moment that has the other two tensing up, “Deadly.” It’s almost like he’s certain he’s going to win, like there is absolutely no way that he could lose. “You’re unmated which means that the leadership of the pack will eventually be up for grabs so why not take my chances early?”

“So you think that you can challenge me now and fucking take over?” His jaw clenches so hard that it feels like his teeth could almost shatter from the tension. “I have a while before I need to worry about–”

“You avoid every mating ceremony, even wolves without packs attend those. Word gets around. The great Christopher Bang refuses to take a mate. Stubborn as fucking always, Chris. You know that having a mate makes us stronger.” Minho knows the right buttons to push, he knows the reasons why Chris won’t accept a mate, and like the master manipulator that he is, he’s using it against him.

For what reason, nobody but he knows.

“Is that what it did for you?” He bites back, his jaw ticking as his hand nearly crushes the glass he’s holding. It’s a shitty comment to throw back at him; Minho was happy when he had his mate and what happened wasn’t his fault at all, it was something nobody could have known would happen, but Chris couldn’t help himself.

He thought that Minho might lose it, might find that stab as painful as the day his mate died and give them away, just so he could have a good reason as to why he wouldn’t accept the challenge but he’s only left disappointed. There’s a flash of gold in Minho’s eyes before he closes them to take a deep breath, settling himself back into the calm state like before. “You can try and get out of this, Chris, but the only way that you can secure your hold is by either accepting the challenge and winning or by finding your mate.” He turns his head as if he is looking for something, maybe someone, eyes scanning the crowds around them, but really, he’s looking for a reason to leave. “You have until the end of the week, Alpha, and if you haven’t decided by then – I’m going to take this to the next meeting.”

With that, Minho gets up and makes his way towards the door, pushing his way through people with Chris glaring after him. “That fucking asshole!” Chris growls deeply, drinking the entire contents of his glass before slamming it back down as he takes deep, heavy breaths. “He’s doing this to start a damn war.”

“Well, don’t let him.” Chris can tell that Felix has somehow gotten distracted, his attention barely on his Alpha and the meltdown he’s currently having but on the two women that Minho is now talking to. The interaction has both of the wolves’ hackles raised as they watch from their seat as Minho leans in close to whisper something in the shorter woman’s ear. “She looks… God, look at her.” He whispers, more to himself than to Chris and it takes everything in him not to snap at the beta for whom he thought Felix was looking at, talking about, thinking of.

It would make sense, right? Felix has been bringing her flowers, talking to her, and giving her a good image of himself, so good that she’s always asking about him. When is he coming back? How is he doing? Did he like last week’s order? Fuck, it drives him crazy that she’s clearly more interested in his beta but it drives him insane that he’s even caring about something like that.

Why wouldn’t Felix like her? She has this air about her that is captivating, even if she isn’t aware of it. She’s beautiful, more beautiful than the peonies Felix has been gifting her. She captures attention with her smile, brighter than the sun, and it makes Chris want to be the reason for such a sight. He wants to be the reason she laughs, a contagious little laugh that makes his own lips curl in response. This woman is the flame and the wolves are the moths that are attracted to her and why wouldn’t they be? Especially now. Fuck sakes, she looks–

“Shit.”

When you walked into the club, arms intertwined with Serena’s, the last thing you expected was some scarily handsome man coming up to you and striking up a conversation. He totally lucked out in the gene pool, his features similar to the men on the covers of her favourite books and that smirk on his lips really does something to her. You are aware that you’ll attract attention tonight because you dressed to impress but hitting the jackpot like this before even stepping onto the dance floor and showing what you’ve got to offer? That’s some type of lottery luck that you don’t think you have.

Serena keeps your arms interlocked as this man talks to you, acting a little too friendly for her liking. Isn’t it strange that he was heading for the door, clearly wanting to leave but all of a sudden, he’s suddenly happy to stand and chat? You clearly don’t have the same mistrust and thought process as your sister but that is because you did drink significantly more and are more susceptible to the sweet compliments he pays. “I’m so sorry for the mistake, doll, I honestly thought you were in my class last year.” He says after a while, pretending that his friendliness was due to him thinking you were someone he knew, “I swear we have met before.”

“Maybe!” You giggle, covering your mouth with your other hand, “maybe you’ve seen me in your dreams~.” The comment is only meant to be a joke, a little flirtatious comment said offhandedly and not meaning anything at all but his eyes darken slightly.

Leaning in, his hand rests on your waist to keep you close enough for him to whisper in your ear. You shiver slightly, the alcohol confusing your fear for excitement, while Serena tenses at his closeness. Clearly, one of them is thinking about the intentions of this stranger. “Little lamb, I would be very careful about whose dreams you choose to wander into~. You never know what’ll happen in them.”

Blinking, confused, you laugh slightly to cover up the feeling of uncertainty about whether he just flirted with you or if he had threatened you. Surely not the latter, right? You don’t know him, why would he threaten you like that? However, there’s no time to ask or linger on the thought since the stranger is bowing politely and bidding you both goodnight, leaving without waiting for a response and causing you to watching him go.

What a strange interaction. Did he mean that the dreams could be spicy? That has to be it, right? Surely, he didn’t threaten you…

Your sister pulls you towards the bar and your head turns back to the door for a moment, running it through your mind briefly before shaking your head. He’s a fish that’s gone back into of fish, there’s no need to waste time thinking about a failed catch – there’s plenty more to lure in and hook. “What a weirdo,” Serena grumbles under her breath as she waves her hand to catch the attention of the bartender.

You nod slightly, “Yeah…” Immediately, the encounter is gone out of your mind as the DJ starts to play your favourite song, almost like everything is telling you to not focus on what happened and focus on what could happen. “Oh my God!” You squeal, turning to Serena and giving her arm a tug, “Come and dance with me!”

Out of the two, you have always had the passion for dancing, originally you wanted to be a ballerina before your parents pushed you towards a career choice that would ‘actually make money’. Serena never really had the same excitement as you did so while one practices and takes classes in her spare time, the other has two left feet.

Brushing you off, Serena shakes her head which has you whining slightly before looking out to the dance floor longingly and then back to the bar before the decision is made. “You know what I want!” You kiss your sister’s cheek, “I’m going to dance! Come find me when you have our drinks!” You dash towards the crowd, narrowing missing the way that two men are watching you and Serena with curiosity and interest.

It's not unusual for you to rush off, especially when you’re drunk. You have always lived your life a little more carefree than your older sister, even while you were studying hard in university, you never sacrificed your social life for sleepless nights in the library. Healthy and balanced lives keep you mentally sane – that’s what you would tell Serena whenever the older worked herself too hard and you were dragging her out to have fun. Whenever the opportunity came to let loose, to go out and do something crazy, you never failed to take the chance with both hands simply to see where the night would end.

The night usually ended in someone’s bed but hey, at least they were cute!

Closing your eyes, you move in time with the music, letting your body move freely and the more into it you get – the wider your smile becomes. You don’t notice the bodies around you, anyone who might be too close to you because everyone is doing exactly what you’re doing – living in their own world on the dance floor. A slave to the music, hypnotised by the atmosphere, you close your eyes and let your body move however the beat wants it to. You don’t notice when a firm body presses against your back, calloused fingers ghosting over your hips, not touching but close to, the tease of the connection has you leaning against him and allowing the stranger to pull you closer, moving in time with you.

The anonymity of the strong body behind you keeps your eyes closed as you raise your hands to wrap around behind his neck, head resting against his shoulder, tilting to the side as you can feel his hot breath against your neck. You can feel electricity rushing through your veins where he’s touching you and it’s like you’re one, bodies moving in time with each other. His large hands hover over your wrists as you bring them down before your fingers intertwine and wrap around your stomach to keep you against him. Everything in your body is alive with a fire that you’ve never felt before, so sensitive as his fingers trace as light as a feather over your body, having you react in ways that shouldn’t be so easily pulled with such little effort. It is like he knows every string to strum, a musician knowing how to play you with a skill that should take a lifetime to master, not seconds, and you’re merely the willing instrument wanting to sing for him.

Soft pillowy lips rest on your pulse and you instinctively give more access, wanting to feel the pressure even if it’s for the briefest of moments. The world no longer exists, your name unheard over the music because all you can focus on, all you know in this moment is your stranger. Nothing else matters, nothing but him, you, and this feeling blossoming within you.

A growl erupts from those lips, so tantalisingly close, and vibrates through his chest before the warmth that you feel, the firmness of his muscles against your back, and the moment that you’re wrapped in is gone and you take a while to fully realise that it has left.

“What…?” You blink, opening your eyes a little too late to catch his retreating back push through the crowd, towards the door. It takes another second longer to figure out where you are before you see Serena, waving at you from a booth with your drink getting warmer by the minute. Running your fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face, you let out a sigh of disappointment and head over to your sister, hoping that she saw the man that you were dancing with. “Did you—”

She must have known exactly what you were thinking because Serena shakes her head, making you pout as you dramatically plop down in the seat next to her. “No, when I saw you dancing, his head was lowered to your neck, it looked like he was kissing it.” You subconsciously rub the spot where you had felt his lips, faintly feeling a tingle there, before reaching for your drink and consuming almost half the glass. “I couldn’t see his face but from the size of him, he would have been your type. What happened?”

You think about it for a moment, trying to remember what exactly happened but the moment you felt him against you, everything blurred together and you couldn’t even figure out what was going on. You were alone, he was there for what felt like a magical moment, and then you were alone again. Shrugging, you groan and bury your face into your hands. Seriously? He could have been the perfect man to break your dry spell with and now you’re not going to be able to even think about anyone else because you’ll be too busy dreaming about what it would have been like to be broken by what felt like a God.

“Of course, I’m going to obsess over this mystery man.” You grumble to yourself as you take a sip of your cocktail, staring out into the crowd as if you could catch a glimpse of him.

Tsk, what crappy luck.

“What-”

“Shut it.”

“Chris, wow, she was-”

Felix’s back meets the brick wall with Chris’ nose almost touching his, the younger is now on the tips of his toes thanks to the hold he’s in. The older wolf is breathing heavily, almost like he’s gulping down the outside air to get rid of her scent. “Don’t fucking say it, you hear me? Don’t even think it. If you say anything to anyone about what just happened then I’ll rip out your tongue and feed it to you.” The image is vivid and Felix nods before Chris shoves away from him and storms off in the direction of the car.

Chris doesn’t want to think about it. He doesn’t want to think about her. He doesn’t want to think about the way she looked, the way she smelled, oh, the way she could have tasted. The last thing that Chris wants to think about right now is her, especially when his body is coiled and ready to stalk back into that club so that he can drag her out. Kiss her. Claim her.

Do everything that he’s refused to do.

Chris has been talking to her, has been in the same space as her a few times now, and never, not once, had he thought about her afterward… Well, actually, that’s a lie, isn’t it? He has thought about her but it wasn’t anything serious, just a few thoughts here and there. Sure, he couldn’t get her scent out of his system whenever he was there but that’s because it was always mixed in with the bakery. How could he get rid of it when he would be surrounded by it the moment he walked into the bakery and then had it linger on the packaging that she’d give him? There’s no other reason as to why he can pick it up anywhere he’s been, not one… Fuck! He should have known it from the moment he saw her, from their first conversation, he hated the way that she was so taken by Felix and his angelic sweetness; he should have known but the Alpha was far too preoccupied with everything else going on that it just didn’t register.

It all hit him like a fucking freight train when he saw her tonight though. The way her outfit fit her perfectly, making her look like one of the delicious treats her sister makes so well, something to be savoured, tasted only with the finest palate because everything about her is perfection and deserves only the best. Try as he might, Chris could not deny the overwhelming jealousy that had reared its ugly head when Minho stopped to talk to her – which got even worse when Chris could pick up on his scent still lingering on her skin when he got close.

It still bothers him actually. It bothers him that out of all the people in the club, Minho somehow managed to single her out and spoke to her – despite how he clearly made her sister feel. She seemed to have a normal reaction, a reaction that a prey would have around a predator because something in the back of their mind knows that danger is close, that a monster, a killer, is nearby… would she think that about him?

She didn’t seem to have the same reaction that her sister did, she didn’t recoil from him but instead flashed the prettiest smile until he said something that wiped it from her soft lips…

Jesus, fuck, he needs to stop thinking about her.

Chris shakes his head, refusing to let those thoughts continue their rampage on his mind. He’s thinking about Minho speaking to her and what purpose he had for it, not thinking about how she might have felt or marvelling at her beauty.

Damn, Chris, get your head on straight.

It’s like Chris couldn’t keep himself away from her when she walked onto the dance floor; she had walked right past him and didn’t even notice him but it honestly didn’t matter because he was zoned in on her. So much so, that when her body started moving so flawlessly, she was a siren and Chris was nothing more than a helpless sailor diving into the deep to answer her call. Of course, he lies to himself about how he didn’t want to touch her right away, he didn’t want to claim ownership right then and there even though… his wolf knows that he wanted to. He knew that he couldn’t claim her right there, that she needed to come to him, to open up to him, accept his advances for him to cave, and when she did – everything clicked into place.

He never thought it would feel like that. He never thought that someone could feel like an extension of himself but now that he knows… How can he possibly forget that feeling?

She’s going to be his downfall, his destruction, and fuck, he doesn’t know whether he actually wants to fight it.

Anyone would think that Chris realising that this woman is his mate would mean that he’d dote on her, that he’d go out of his way to make her day better.

No. Oh, lordy no.

Despite how much his body is drawn to her, no matter how badly his wolf calls for her in the back of his mind, the Alpha refuses to give in to the pull of his mate and since she isn’t aware, sweetly oblivious to the supernatural world and werewolves, it makes it easier for him to remove the obstacle. Well, the easiest way to get rid of her, to stop their paths from crossing, would be to stop ordering those delicious treats from the bakery, to stop going and collecting them for the chance to see her, but Chris refuses to be weak.

He is also an idiot who seems to not understand that always doing things the hard way isn’t going to get him ahead.

Fighting a mate bond, even one that hasn’t been established, is one of the stupidest things a wolf can do. Even if they reject their mates, a wolf will always feel that bond because it’s predestined, something that really isn’t within their control but who is going to tell him that?

“You’re coming with me.” Chris orders, turning to look at Felix who is sitting next to him in the car. He was stopping to pick up his order before they had to go and see one of the visiting Alphas; Chris has decided that he’s going to keep placing this order because, after today, the sweet scented woman will never want to see him again and he can move on with his life. It’ll be easy after this, in and out, or he can send Felix – an idiot’s plan but what is he? He can’t reject her, that wouldn’t really work and the Alpha knows that so he needs to make sure that their paths cross as little as possible, don’t let her become more of a temptation than she already is, and there’s one way that he can do that.

He just needs to make her look and feel like a fool.

Ever since day one, he’s allowed her to believe that Felix was him, he’s played into it the entire time because while he hated the way that her smile would light up whenever she spoke about the beta – it meant that he could pretend that she would smile whenever she talked about him too. A smile so contagious that his own lips curl up as he thinks about it until he remembers why he’s here.

Chris knows that this would make her dislike him, hate him even, because while he hates the cursed apps and is often teased for being a dinosaur – he found her dating profiles the other day. On accident, or so he says. He had read it and found out her name, her age, and her Instagram, something he also decided to check out and spent way too much time looking at. He researched this woman, his destined mate, Y/N – that’s your name and during his research, Chris managed to find out that not only did you dislike it when men didn’t make the effort to make plans, you also hate when people pick on and tease other people.

You’re so soft, so sweet, fuck, you’re everything he isn’t. Isn’t it perfect? He can be everything you hate and that would be enough for the bond to remain as a faint tug in the back of his mind. The more he ignores it, the more you stay away from him, the easier it’ll get and he can carry on with life as he always has.

“Let’s go.” He grumbles, getting out of the car and slamming the door a little too aggressively while Felix throws him a look of concern. The younger wolf knows that something is going on but because Chris isn’t going to open up and tell anyone what it is – he goes along with it even if he can tell that his Alpha is on edge.

Not… bad. No, it’s not like how he is when Minho is around or whenever Chris is pulled into a meeting with the other Alphas. There’s just something there, lurking beneath the surface, that has Chris’ jaw tense and fingers flexing at his sides like he’s ready to fight.

“Hello, welcome to- oh!” Your voice raises an octave when you realise who has walked into the bakery, “You’re early! Chris! Hey!” Chris tries to avoid looking at you directly, which would be funny if this was any other reason but he just knows that the moment he sees your smile, the smile that makes your eyes sparkle like they hold all the stars within them, he will lose his resolve to do this.

He can’t. He needs to do this. You are not made for this world and besides, he doesn’t want a mate, he’s never wanted a mate and because of that – it’s better this way.

Felix is already at the counter, chatting away to you while Chris takes a deep breath and pushes down all the guilt that bubbles up in his throat, reminding himself that this is for the best. If he tells himself enough, he may convince his wolf to believe it. His eyes meet yours as if you were waiting for him to look at you, and a cocky smirk spreads across his lips as he makes his way over to the counter. Leaning against it, getting close, Chris looks you up and down before holding your gaze, “Say my name again, sugar.”

“Say my name again, sugar” It takes you a moment to register what he has said because you’re still confused about how quickly he just changed up. One minute it looked like he didn’t want to be there, like he didn’t want to get anywhere near you which was strange. You have never had a man actively avoid you like that except your ex in university who had fucked up so badly that being anywhere near you would have resulted in bodily harm. The man had been hanging back, avoiding your eyes, not engaging with you in any way but now?

You blink a couple of times and look at the man who you think is Chris, tilting your head like he might give you some insight about what is going on but he’s now avoiding looking at you, looking guilty. While you do not know these men outside of the few interactions you’ve shared with them in the bakery – you can tell that something is going on and you’re the only one not privy to what it is.

“C’mon,” the man folds his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you as if you’re not understanding him. He must know that this is so out of the left field, right? He must know that anyone would be confused by the way he’s going about this because he couldn’t have switched up that quickly… could he? You don't actually know this man, you don't even know his name so judging him based on the small interactions they’ve had in the past is a mistake when he could be the complete opposite. “You seem like a smart woman, surely you’ve figured out my name by now.” It’s a statement, not a question, implying you should know.

You look at him, brows furrowed in confusion, before shaking your head and taking a small step back. “No?” You answer slowly, drawing out the sound of the word. “You’ve never told me your name.”

There’s a glint behind his eyes, as if he’s seen a weakness in you that he can now exploit and his lip curls up into something that’s more like a sneer than a smirk. “Who is the order for, sugar?”

“Christopher Bang.” You answer in the same confused tone, looking over at ‘Chris’ for help with this questioning but the man is looking like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole. His hands are playing with the front of his shirt while his blonde locks fall into his eyes as he looks at the other man. Whatever is going on, he wishes he didn’t have to witness it and that doesn’t bode well for you.

The man nods his head, continuing with his game. “And who is Christopher Bang?”

“Ch-” The blonde is about to say something but a warning growl rumbles through the other’s chest and he shuts his mouth quickly, looking down while chewing his bottom lip. This raises more alarm bells in her head, the type that should warn you to back away before you fall into the trap set up by the predator before you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, your voice not sounding as strong as you want it to be. You don't want to play whatever weird game he’s trying to get you to participate in. You were actually excited to see the both of them but now, you just want him to get his shit and leave. You may be sweet, you may be the softest petal on a rose but you tire quickly of the games men play. If you aren't going to let your ex make a fool of you then you’re not going to let a stranger play with you.

Shaking his head and clicking his tongue almost in disappointment, the man meets your eyes, looking amused out of all things. “I’m asking the questions, sugar, be a good girl and answer them.” Okay, who the fuck does this man think he is? “Who is Christopher Bang?” You look over at the blonde as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world and he scoffs, “and why do you think that?”

You originally had thought that he was nice, hot actually, maybe you had even been working up to asking for his number or flirting to see if he would be interested in the slightest. He looks like he was plucked out of one of your books and dressed like the guy you should avoid but secretly has a heart of gold. Sadly, he’s just radiating the same energy your ex has now and while the switch up is extremely confusing – it’s also extremely disappointing.

Your shoulders rise in a shrug, “because–” Because what? You made the assumption that he was Chris because he always came and grabbed the order so when things changed and someone else collected it, you just went along with it. You were never corrected whenever you spoke about ‘Chris’, you were never told that this man wasn’t who you thought he was and that Chris was in fact someone else. You had made an assumption based on the limited information that was given and was led to believe that you were right because nobody said otherwise.

Oh, those bells are screaming now.

The realisation must have become clear on your burning red face since the man questioning you begins to laugh as you piece it all together. You bite you tongue, unable to curse him out since he’s a customer in the store. As much as you want to, you can’t yell at him and cause a scene but oh, do you really want to do it. You’re sure that if you did, Serena wouldn’t tell you off… maybe… maybe all you have to do is say that he’s been playing you for a fool and your older sister will give him a piece of her mind too. You’re screaming in your head at all the scenarios playing in your mind about how he must have been finding this so entertaining, silly girl on the counter, thinking he was someone else.

God, you must have sounded so stupid!

Asshole!

Bastard!

God, you hate very little things in this world but one of the things that make you angrier than finding out that your ex was cheating on you, is being made to feel like you’re an idiot. You know you look like you’re just a pretty face, someone too sweet and soft for their own good and yes, you’ve had people take advantage of your kindness but you are not a fool. You’re smart, you’re stronger than you look, and having people rub your mistakes in your face like you should have known better when anyone could have done the same – enrages you.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes for a moment before looking back at him with as much disdain as you can muster while simultaneously smiling. A forced smile, that much is obvious. Chris, now you can put a name to the face, might think that you’re some kind of fool but you aren't going to let him use this against you or laugh at you like you’re stupid. You refuse to allow this insignificant man to hold something like this in his grasp and wield it like a sword; you’ve dealt with worse men in university, hell, you dated worse men than him. The type of men who view you as someone who is easily torn down, naïve, a target to poke at whenever you make mistakes but you’re not weak, you’ve changed. You refuse to be that girl over something like this so you’re not letting him see that it bothers you but you do allow him to see the icy glare that you’ve perfected over the years.

“Here’s your order.” You say through your grin, boxing everything up and pushing it towards him. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of an answer, he can keep waiting for that.

Holding out your hand for the card, telling him the total, you wait to get this over and done with but it seems Chris isn’t finished playing. Just because you don't want to be a part of the game that he’s decided he’s won, for some reason, he still wants to play. “Check the name on the card next time,” he smirks as he places his card in your hand, both of you clutching it while staring at each other for a brief moment. Daggers are being shot from your softer eyes while his darker eyes narrow slightly as he lets out a soft scoff and releases the card. “Next week, I want this order doubled since I’ll be entertaining guests.”

He is just like your ex. Gross.

Rolling your eyes as you type the numbers into the machine and finish paying, you hand the card back to him, “You can make that order online. As you always do.”

“I’m telling you now, you can put it in for me.”

“Sorry,” you smile falsely, “that’s not my job. You can put it through the system properly.” Honestly, you could take the order now and do it for him, you’ve done it many times before whenever someone calls up and orders but since he’s pissed you off, no, he doesn’t get to boss you around like he owns the place. Seriously, who does he think he is?

As if on cue, Serena walks through the doors and looks at the three of them with a questioning brow raised. She had heard parts of the conversation and wanted to make sure you weren't being harassed by the customer. “Sugar,” she says the pet name with an inclination of her head, indicating for you to come with her. “I need your help in the kitchen before we close up, are you alright to come and give me a hand?”

You are thankful that Serena waits and doesn’t leave you with the walking asshole and his suddenly quiet, nameless friend. “If that’s everything,” you mumble, no polite lilt to your voice, no smile that reaches your eyes, just a simple bow of your head as you walk away with the two men watching you go. You shake your head when walking past Serena, not wanting to talk about it right now before pushing through the doors and the moment you’re out of Chris’ view, you scream. You don't care if he hears you, you don't care if he never comes back, you need to get it out before you explode.

“Ugh! What a DICK!”

Chris chuckles when he hears you scream, the sound so loud that even if he was human, he’d have heard it loud and clear. Grabbing the food, he strolls out of the bakery with your curses and insults following after him. Felix walks beside him, looking back at the store but doesn’t bother to say a word until they are both in the car, food placed safely in the back seat.

He can tell that the younger is mulling over his words, the steam is almost coming out of his ears. “What is it, Lix?”

“Did you really have to go that far?” This is the exact question Chris is almost asking himself as it settles into his mind that he has effectively, even if unknowingly, pushed a button that his mate hates enough to name him public enemy number one. He knows he didn’t need to push you that far, that he could have just avoided you and your sweet scent for the entire time that you remained in his town, on his territory, but he couldn’t risk it. He couldn’t risk you smiling at him on the street and Chris forgetting where he was, he couldn’t risk you being near him and Chris wanting nothing more than to feel your skin under his fingertips. Chris may not have needed to go to such an extreme but he did have to do something that would mean you’d avoid him as equally as he’s going to avoid you.

Did he really have to go that far? “Yes.” He says gruffly, the good mood he just had dissipating as he starts the car and heads towards the pack house.

Felix doesn’t say a word, he knows better than to question Chris even if he feels like he’s doing the stupidest shit ever. Chris, while not known to often be doing dumb shit, likes to think that everything he does is for a reason. Any action that would be considered personal always seems to cause him some kind of pain but whenever it comes to actions that involve the pack – he never falters in what is before for them. Except now. As much as Chris will argue it, even if the beta won’t bring it up as a way to avoid his Alpha snarling at him and telling him to walk home, Felix knows that Chris finding and accepting his mate is what is best for the pack in so many ways.

First off, it’s no secret that the dude needs to get laid.

The other reason is because wolves are stronger with their mates, werewolf or not, there’s this connection between them and their mates that seems to heighten everything about them. A wolf will find their mate’s attention and care to be healing, having them close makes them stronger and when it comes to the future of the pack – a pup born from a mated couple is blessed by the Moon Goddess. It’s why a lot of the current pack is the way it is because Chris’ parents – mates themselves – made sure to encourage the rest of the pack to find their counterparts.

Everyone does it, and everyone is willing to accept it – except the current Alpha himself.

“Are you sure?” Serena asks, watching you pace through the kitchen, hyping yourself up and giving yourself a not-so-quiet pep talk to get through the day. “It’s okay if you want me to go out and deal with him today.” She knows that this has really been getting to you over the past month and while you try to play it off like you’re okay – every interaction that you have with Chris causes you to scream in the walk-in pantry afterward. Honestly, if they had any mice in there, they definitely would have scurried away and moved out with how intense you had gotten.

Once a week would have been tolerable. Once a week would have meant that all she had to do was deal with Chris coming in and paying for his order before screwing your face up at him as he walked out the door. Once a week should have been all you would have to put up with but it seems this asshole of a man has decided that you need to see him more just to make it clear that you hate him. It’s like he’s a masochist and gets off on the sarcastic responses and cold glares you throw in his direction. Chris has his usual order which he always comes with Felix to collect now, the younger happily chatting away to Serena like a little puppy while Chris keeps saying shit that makes you want to strangle his perfectly biteable neck. He’s somehow decided though, once a week is not enough, and now Chris comes in randomly just because he’s ‘hungry’.

That’s a lie and you both know it.

He comes because he knows that it puts you on guard, it causes your entire body to react to him even when you try your best to ignore his presence and focus on the other customers in the store. You’re sure that he loves it, a Grade A asshole like what you dealt with in class, you can see the smirk on his stupidly plump lips whenever you stutter over certain words and throw daggers in his direction. Chris seems to have found a way to be able to get under your skin even when you try and tell yourself that he means nothing. He’s crawled under and hit every single nerve by simply existing and with every encounter, it messes with your head. Your dreams. Your reality basically because you’re sure that you see him even when you’re out and about.

You need to get this man out of your system before you become insane.

Serena has offered to take over, to deal with him instead but you refuse to seem weak, to run away when he’s clearly doing this as some weird dominance thing – not that it makes sense since you don't care about him. “I’m okay,” you nod your head, jumping up and down on the spot and shaking your hands to try and hype yourself up. Serena can’t help but chuckle at your antics and while there’s this big sister protective urge to deal with Chris, she finds it amusing.

“This is really giving enemies to lovers, like those books you love to read.” She teases and you gasp in shock that Serena has actually listened to your ramblings about your recent reads – and horror at the suggestion. “I’m just saying!”

“Ew! No!” You shake your head, “no. This is not that! That is hot, sexy, ugh, their slow decline into falling in love while denying that it’s possible– no. He’s not even close to that!” Serena chuckles, humming like she believes you. “He’s not going to win this!”

“Sugar! This isn’t some competition that you can win?” She sounds surprised by your words even though she knows that you refuse, and always have refused, to be beaten by any man. Even after being cheated on, even after having text messages shared throughout your class, you had to come out on top out of spite. Your stubbornness is the reason why you managed to get through university and also making sure this store has been able to flourish in the way that it has.

“Sure it is,” you say as you stop moving and take a deep breath as if you’re about to step into the ring, “clearly he has his head so far up his ass that he thinks he means something. You see the way he walks in here? Like he’s some sort of king and everyone around him is his loyal servant who should drop to their knees and kiss his feet.” You scoff, snatching your apron off the hook and wrapping the strings around your waist to tie it at the back. “I’m not going to let him think that he’s getting to me. Nothing pisses men like him off more than giving back the same attitude that they give to others. He wants to play this game then it’s time to step up and play it better than he can.” You aren't someone who likes to be confrontational, a soft soul who prefers to take the gentle approach but sometimes even the soft ones are pushed to their breaking points.

Serena simply watches as you walk out the front, slightly speechless but mostly amused about the whole situation. There’s no point stopping you and honestly, it’s about time someone has caught your attention – even if it’s in the worst way because Serena has seen you look at those pictures on your phone of your ex that you haven't deleted yet.

Putting on your best smile, you greet the store, even when the man you were just talking about is standing in the store, a basket in his hand as he browses the freshly baked breads. “Good morning, welcome to ‘Everything Nice’.” You don't falter with your overly cheerful tone even if you weren't expecting to deal with him this early in the day. You had barely finished opening the store before heading into the kitchen so Chris must have been hanging around, waiting for that sign to switch from ‘closed’ to ‘open’.

Whatever, it doesn’t matter. He’s not getting another win today. Chris will not leave the store with another mark on the proverbial scoreboard against you. Today, you will claim a victory in this war even if it only adds fuel to the fire.

“You’re here early, Chris.”

Why he’s here, he doesn’t know, or that is what he keeps telling himself every single time he enters the store. Chris tells himself that he’s doing this because he needs you to curse his very name, he needs to ruin every and any chance there could be for a bond to form. He could have just left it as it was when he dropped the bomb that day but for some reason, Chris finds himself heading to ‘Everything Nice’ more than he cared to before.

You need to hate him.

He needs to make sure that you hate him.

The food is good.

You smell better than the food.

He just wants to make sure you’re doing okay…

Even though Chris tells his lies to himself and everyone around him, it boils down to the fact that he is the cause of your negative emotions and it has him wanting to make sure that you’re okay. Even when he says things that only cause the fire behind your soft eyes to burn brighter, even when he doesn’t stop himself from acting like a royal ass, Chris needs to be around you even when he’s trying to avoid you.

Unsuccessfully avoid you.

The moment that he sees you walk out in his peripheral vision, it seems like every nerve in his body becomes alive and alert which pushes his own buttons because he’s trying so fucking hard not to respond to you, and yet, his body betrays him. Hearing your voice, the way you’re feigning kindness makes the wolf smirk as he walks over and leans against the counter, meeting your glare head on. “I heard that the bread is even more delicious when freshly baked so I thought I’d grab some to take home for lunch.”

You hum, nodding your head like you care about what he has to say but he can see the temptation to roll your eyes lingering just behind those pretty eyelashes. Fuck, he shouldn’t want to count them, watch them fall softly against your cheeks as you fall asleep in his arms. With the way his thoughts are going, he has to try his best not to give in right then and there when you lean closer. “So you decided to grab it right when the bakery opened?”

Oh, he hears that tone, and hell, he shouldn’t feel proud learning that there’s a fighter underneath all those times you took his shit. He knew you had it in you and now seeing it? Makes you more attractive.

“To be one of the first customers of the day to grab fresh bread? I have a tendency to be the first in everything I do.” He says with an upward quirk of the corner of his lips, the words having a double entendre which you don’t seem to catch onto – or if you do, you don’t show it.

“Mhm, good for you, the bread is over there, Chris. Not here.” You point to the other side of the store before going to the viewing window to grab some fresh baking that Serena has put on the sill.

His jaw ticks slightly as he realises that he’s not going to get the fight that he wants from you. He expected you to get a little more worked up than this but instead, you are effectively brushing him off like an insolent child and Chris refuses to be treated like that. Even if that’s how he’s been acting. Heading over to the bread, he watches as you carefully place the fruit tarts on a tray and slides them into the chilled cabinet sitting under the counter. “What do you recommend?” You pretend not to hear him, humming softly to yourself as Chris chuckles before loudly clearing his throat and asking his question again when you look at him.

A deep sigh leaves your lips, a dramatic rise and fall of your shoulders shows that you’re not really hiding your reactions to his annoyances. You don’t move from your spot, simply looking over at him as you point in the general direction of the bread. “The bacon and cheese pull apart bread is one of our best sellers. You can warm it up and have it with some butter – it doesn’t need anything more than that.”

“What’s your favourite, sugar?”

The use of your nickname, even if he doesn’t know it is, causes you to pause and narrow your eyes ever-so-slightly. You raise an eyebrow, clearly wondering what his angle is, and Chris shrugs nonchalantly, “People tend to speak highly of the things that they like. So, sugar, what is your favourite?” He watches, examining the way that you contemplate answering truthfully before pulling your mask back down and shaking your head, “wonderful customer service.” A low blow and he knows it, he’s the one pushing, being an ass, and you’re simply trying to do her job. “First, you don’t even know my name and have been giving my order to someone else, then you ignore me unless you have to talk to me, and now,” he shakes his head, folding his arms over his chest and he swears he can feel the daggers you’re throwing at him with your eyes. “I’m simply asking a question and you aren’t going to answer it?”

He can faintly hear you grinding your teeth together from where he stands, watching as you try to control yourself but Chris can also hear your heart racing in your chest, the deep breaths that you take – all it’ll take is one more push. If he pushes a little further, he might be able to get you to snap…

“Oh, what about how you were talking shit about me, a loyal customer, while I was in the store?”

Your eyes widened and your cheeks heated up because it was obvious that you didn’t think you were so loud that Chris would have been able to overhear every single word you had said. You weren’t actually, you had managed to contain herself quite well except for that one time, but you didn’t need to know the specifics, right? It would only take away the fun of the tease if you knew that Chris is a werewolf with supernatural hearing.

Grabbing a loaf of the bacon and cheese bread, because that actually does sound pretty delicious and the smell of the bacon is making him salivate, Chris walks to the counter with the basket of food that he’s collected. “So, what do you have to say for yourself, hm?” He says in a mocking tone, sounding like a father reprimanding his child.

“What?” You ask, shocked he would talk to you like that. Your shock fades almost immediately and you scoff, folding your arms over your chest, and glare pointedly at him, “Do you want an apology or something?”

Humming, Chris smirks with a nod, “Sure, if you don’t mind, sugar~.”

Opening your mouth as if you were about to answer, Chris is left disappointed when you close it again and begin to pack up the food. “Your order won’t be ready until later today but if you would like, your friend Felix can come and collect it for you. Since I know who he is now, at least we both know it’ll reach you. Chris.” You pass over the bag and Chris takes it before you drop it, trying to avoid accidentally touching his hand at all costs.

“That won’t be necessary.” He smiles kindly, knowing it’s only going to annoy you even more, “I’ll be back at my usual time to collect.”

“Great.” You utter under your breath before finishing up with him and turning back to your work, while Chris heads to the car feeling like he had just won. Maybe it’s not a sweet victory like the previous times, this time you had given him a bit more of a push back but oh, seeing how you react when he’s close makes him feel victorious.

He should leave you alone now. He knows he should. There’s no reason for him to keep coming around now, especially since you obviously don’t want to see him. This should be it, this should be the end of it all…No, it will be. Chris nods as he sits in his car momentarily to remember your scent. He takes a moment to remember every small thing about you, even if you hate him now, he wants to remember all he can because today is the last day he steps foot into ‘Everything Nice.’

You didn’t know it was going to be the ‘last time’ that you’d see him. You couldn’t have guessed that when he came back to collect his order that final time, everything in your life was about to change. You had no idea that Chris hanging around the bakery, annoying you, and pushing your buttons was actually the main reason why you were safe but also a target for something that you could never have prepared for.

All you want is to get him in and out as quickly as you can. The moment you see the man walk through the door, you are packing up his order and placing it on the counter before he can arrive. You’re focused, refusing to acknowledge any of his little quips that are about to come but it surprises you when Chris simply hands over his card without a single word.

No quips, no mocking, nothing at all.

“Nothing to say?” You ask, unable to help yourself from starting a fight. You usually wouldn’t, you typically prefer to keep the peace but being so close to this man makes you want to fight without any reason to pick one. Swiping the card, you input the amount and push the machine towards Chris but instead of responding, he shrugs his shoulders without even glancing at you. You take the moment of silence to look him over, noticing that his posture is stiff, uncomfortable and there’s a tick in his jaw that is ridiculously too attractive for a man with his attitude. Everything about him right now is the opposite of the man who acted like he owned the place. He looks like he can’t wait to get out of there just as quickly as you want him gone.

But, that’s the problem.

You want him gone. You want him out and now that it looks like he does too, you want him to pick a fight. Nobody has gotten such a reaction from you since university, since your ex and you swore you wouldn’t resort to that type of low again…

“Are you really not going to say anything?” You pushed, your brow furrowed slightly in both annoyance and confusion. Chris spares you a look before letting out a breath that sounds like he’s been holding it the whole time; grabbing his order, he pauses for a moment like he’s about to say something but decided against it. He turns his broad back on you so he can leave and you scoff, shaking your head, hell no, you’re not letting him just walk away like this!

You move quickly from behind the counter, grabbing him by the bicep before he makes it to the door. “Let go.” Chris pulls his arm back with enough force to loosen your hold and goes for the exit before you can chase after him – it doesn’t mean you don't though.

Chris has barely made it a few metres from the store, clearly trying to get away as fast as he can before he halts due to you calling out his name. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t look over his shoulder. No, he simply stands in the street with his back to you while you speak. “After everything this morning, after everything these last few weeks, you’re really going to just… give up?” You sound so desperate, a whine to your voice that almost sounds pained and you can’t understand why. This is what you’ve been wanting ever since he started to act like a right ass but you can’t just let this go, not when it started out of nowhere and seems to have ended just as abruptly.

You need something more. An explanation. A reason.

Somewhere along the way, even though you refuse to voice it, you started to look forward to fighting with Chris. A sick little game being played that made you so mad but when life follows the same script every day – even a negative change can help you feel alive. Sure, he pisses you off and you’ll say you hate him but your life has been so quiet lately, mundane, following the same routine over and over again, and the fighting seemed to give you something that was different from your norm. Somewhere along the way, you had started to rely on the rush that you got every time you fought, just to feel something more than boredom.

God, you sound like you need to go to therapy.

While you and Chris are standing there, neither of you speaking, simply remaining in place, neither notices that you are being watched. You never expected to be watched so you wouldn’t have been keeping an eye out for it but Chris should have been aware of the attention that he was bringing you. Himself. Neither of you notice that there’s a small group hiding just out of plain sight and watching the way the Alpha is frozen, clearly struggling to leave his mate behind. You’re so unaware of the connection between you but yet, you can’t let him go.

A smirk spreads across a wolf’s lips, a snicker coming from the man next to him while the other blows out a lung full of smoke and tosses his cigarette onto the ground while scowling at the scene. “Are you sure?” He asks, his voice rough and gravely.

Minho nods, keeping quiet for a moment longer until Chris begins to walk away and you stand there, watching a little while longer before giving up and heading back inside, shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m positive. I didn’t know it when I met her at the club that night. Funnily enough, I thought she was Felix’s mate with the way that beta was always going to the bakery but it seems the Alpha was having his second in command act as a delivery boy.” The man moves out from the hiding spot that gives them the perfect view of the bakery, “Chris has been going there a lot more than he needs to. Knowing him, he’s reasoning with himself as to why he needs to be around her but clearly, he’s pushing her away.” The scene they just saw shows that Chris isn’t being overly accepting to his mate – which is what they had expected.

“As expected,” another rouge beta, Seungmin, says as he watches Chris’ car pull into traffic and head in the direction of the pack house. “He’s predictable, he always has been.” Seungmin had followed Minho out of the pack that day because while believed in Chris as an Alpha, he knew that the wolf’s stubbornness and refusal to change was going to be his downfall – and the pack’s.

The wolf that was smoking, a beta from another pack and one Chris had personal issues with for many different reasons, walks out from the shadows to stand beside Minho. He hums in thought, looking at the bakery while scratching his chin. A scar runs from his upper lip down the side of his face, his calloused hand running over it as he scratches. “Has he responded to the challenge?”

Minho snorts, “only to tell me to go and fuck myself.”

“He’s fucking insufferable,” the wolf growls, rolling his dark eyes. “When are the packs meeting again about the hunters? Tomorrow, right?” Minho nods, “Go to it and tell Chris he has until the next full moon. He either takes his mate or he takes the challenge.”

Seungmin counts the days in his head, tilting it as he looks at the older wolves, “why are we giving him a month to decide?” One look from Minho silences him but it doesn’t stop him from rolling his eyes in annoyance. He doesn’t understand why they are dragging this out when they could walk up to the pack house’s front door and challenge him now.

“All in good time,” the eldest speaks, giving a cruel smile and showing his fangs as he looks at you as you come out to check on the front of the store. “Everything will be revealed soon.”

You want to say that after a few weeks without seeing Chris your disdain and dislike for him has started to simmer down and that you have started to forget about the arrogant son-of-a-bitch but no. How can it settle when you have to see Felix and be reminded about the way Chris embarrassed you and then continued to poke fun at such an easy mistake? It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had been a little teasing, a little prod, and a giggle when he had realised your mistake but instead, for an entire month, he allowed you to believe the sweet, freckled ray of sunshine was someone else and from the way that Felix looked uncomfortable that day, made him go along with it too.

That made it so much worse.

“Ah,” you rub your hand over your face in frustration as you sit down on your bed. You need to stop thinking about him, you want to stop but it seems that he’s gotten under your skin so bad that you’ve begun to obsess about him.

You look at the time and notice that you have about an hour before it’s time to think about dinner so you decide that you’ll go for a walk to clear your head. It’s been something that you’ve picked up since moving to this town because with all your friends living in the city and your life there being only accessible during the weekends, you have nothing better to do.

Well, you could read your books but that’s not fun when all you’re thinking about is him.

The town is pretty enough, the beach not that far from where you live, which means on nice evenings, you take your walk down there to enjoy the pretty golden sunsets before heading back home. It’s been getting better and even prettier to see as the days warm up and the spring slowly moves towards the summer.

So, with a gentle push up, you start to change into the cute lilac purple activewear that you’ve been wearing lately as it gives you enough mobility to run when you want to but also isn’t super heavy where you’re sweating too much. “Where are you going?” Serena asks, poking her head into your room when she hears all the movements. “Are you heading down to the beach?” You hum, stretching a little before heading towards her, “What time will you be back?”

Raising an eyebrow, you look at her suspiciously, “Why?” You ask, narrowing your eyes. You have an inkling that Serena has been going on dates and not telling you about it because she’s been a little bit secretive lately but you haven't asked. You may be close but you do like to keep certain things to yourselves and Serena’s dating life is one of the topics that are usually locked up in a vault.

“No reason,” she shrugs before making her way towards the kitchen where she already has dinner cooking, “I can leave yours in the oven if you’re not back in time.”

Simply humming in response, you give her a kiss on the cheek, “thank you”, before going to put your running shoes on and heading out the door. It takes you until you reach the bottom of the stairs to realise you’ve forgotten your headphones. “Oh-” you rush back to your room with Serena yelling after you about your shoes. “I’m just grabbing my headphones!” You shout back before running out on your tiptoes to try and minimise the amount of shoe touching the clean floor. “I’ll clean the floor tomorrow!”

With your playlist designed to get you energised blasting your favourite songs through your eardrums, you walk with purpose down the road, dancing to the choreography that you know and lip-syncing like you’re giving the world a concert. You love it when it’s like this, where you couldn’t care less about who is around you, like the world is yours to own and you don't need to be overly aware of what’s around you.

You love it but it does tend to make you blind to what’s coming.

Nothing could touch you when you’re walking like you have all the confidence in the world and it’s amusing to watch really, how there’s a little bounce in your steps, a word or two accidentally being sung with you realising too late and you go back to mouthing the lyrics with a passion. You do miss being in the studio, dancing your heart out, and performing on weekends but you haven't been able to find a space to facilitate that in town.

“Adorable.” Minho chuckles as he shoves his hands into his pockets and glances around before slipping off the path and making a shortcut through the trees so that he can get to the beach before you.

You’re unaware, oblivious to what dangers Chris has brought into your life and even if you were told, you wouldn’t really believe him anyway, especially not after everything. Maybe not ever unless you see it with your eyes.

Even then…

The beach starts to open up before you, the reeds and dunes making way for the large expanse of the clear blue sea and white sand. You take a deep breath and inhale the salty scent of the water that has become one of your favourite smells because it is so far removed from the smell of the city that you feel so revitalised and calm. Sure, you miss the city, the life and luxuries that you had there but there’s something about it here that feels so right and you love it. “Amazing,” you say to yourself before going to one of the large, sun-bleached tree trunks that have become popular seats for people who simply want to watch the rolling waves.

Taking your headphones out and placing them back into their case, you turn on the trunk and lie down with your eyes closed, listening to the sounds of pure peace around you. There are no families on the beach today, no sounds of children laughing or people shouting at their young ones to be careful while playing in the water – just the sounds of crashing waves and seagulls.

“Roman!” Your brows wrinkle when a man’s voice ruins your peace, “bad dog! Come back here!”

Your leg had been hanging over the side of the trunk and clearly, this man’s dog has decided that it needs to investigate who you are, sniffing the bare skin of your calf and causing you to sit up with a slight giggle. You're ticklish.

“Roman,” the name is said with a slight growl to his tone that has both the big, golden, shaggy dog and you looking at him, “get here!” He points at his side and the dog walks towards him with his tail in between his legs, making you pout softly.

Pushing off the seat, you smile kindly at the man who is looking sternly at his dog, “Hey, he’s okay. He’s just a curious boy trying to make a new friend.” You crouch down by the dog and hold out your hand, allowing him to come to you for a nice scratch behind the ears. “See,” your voice raises an octave, “you’re a good boy.”

When the owner gets close enough to pull the dog’s attention away from you, leashing Roman to keep him from running off again, you smile before something clicks in your brain. You’ve seen this man before, you’re certain of it, you can’t quite pinpoint it and it’s a little annoying but from the bells in your head and the smirk he wears – you know you’ve crossed paths before.

How come you can’t pinpoint it right away?

“He likes you,” the man says, catching your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts. “He’s not usually so friendly with new people.”

Chuckling softly, you smile sweetly, “You and me both, Roman.” Which is… not entirely true. You’re pretty friendly to everyone, that's the reason why your nickname is Sugar but you’ve always been a little hesitant to be fully open with people – especially after what happened.

Thanks to…

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” The man blatantly lies – not that you know that. “Do you come to the beach often?”

You’re a little cautious with sharing your comings and goings with a complete stranger so you just hum, giving him a tight smile, “now and again. It’s been nice lately so I couldn’t miss out on seeing it.” As you talk, a chill runs up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck stands up, usually a warning that you need to leave even if there aren't any obvious dangers.

There’s something about this guy that has you feeling slightly on edge and you can’t figure out why. You’re pretty intuitive and prides yourself on it most of the time, usually able to spot a problematic person from a mile away but lately, it’s been acting up so you don’t know if there’s really a reason – or if it’s just because you are alone and there’s nobody around.

As if Serena knows that you may need saving, your phone starts to ring and stops the conversation from going further. “Oh, I’m sorry. I have to take this.” The man backs away as you answer the phone, using the call as a good excuse to walk away while speaking, only looking back to smile and wave. “You have no idea how glad I am you are calling,” you say when you think that you’re out of earshot, glancing over your shoulder and moving quickly when you catch him still standing there and watching you leave. “No, no, I’m okay…” You’re not sure if you fully believe it since your blood is pumping through your veins and adrenaline is kicking in to move your feet faster back towards the safety of your home.

Serena stays on the phone the whole time until you walk in the door, “What is his name and what does he look like? I’m going to call the police.” You jump, caught off guard by her voice being louder than it was on the phone and also by how quick she is to involve the authorities.

“Oh my God, you don’t need to call the cops, Spice. He was harmless! It was just…” You sit down to get rid of your shoes, tossing them in front of you. “I don’t know. It was just weird.”

This causes the woman to go into a full rant about how men who are weird don’t just stare at people walking away from them, that’s what stalkers do and for all you know, he could have been following you for days until you were alone. Neither of you are aware of how right Serena is – or how close to it she’s actually getting with her accusations – because he has been studying your every move and now that Chris isn’t around to keep Minho away, he’s going to come back.

In a different way, he realised this when he watched you practically run away from him at the beach. Approaching you alone isn’t going to gain your trust like he wants, he wants you to feel comfortable enough to talk to him and the best way to do that is through the same method Chris used.

The bakery.

A game is about to be played, a game you aren't aware you’re going to be playing until it’s too late, and even if you somehow managed to figure it all out before their hand is shown, you’ll still be playing regardless.

You are the key piece.

You’re the piece that both sides need but only one can have.

You are either going to be Chris’ downfall or his salvation and since he’s taken himself out of the game, or thinks he has, you are now free for the opposition to claim.

To use.

Chris leans back in his seat, straightening out the newspaper in his hands as he sips his morning black coffee. A sigh passes through his lips when he hears someone running into his house, “The rogues are here.” One of the betas says as they enter the dining room, bringing in mud from the outside on their shoes since they had been in too much of a rush to take them off. “There’s… Alpha Chris, there’s more of them than last time.”

This isn’t news to Chris or any of the other Alphas. Lately, the rogues have been teaming up. Nothing that could be considered a pack, or even compared to one, but definitely more than what they usually do. Minho and Seungmin have been collecting strays and bringing them around more and more, every time challenging Chris and posing empty threats.

Little does he know, soon, they won’t be so empty.

“Alpha?”

Chris hums, still looking at the newspaper and reading about an accident last night, “What?”

“Did you not hear what I said?”

Clicking his tongue, the wolf closes the newspaper and looks over at his beta, lips in a hard line. The younger wolf clearly recognises his expression as that of annoyance and from the bags under his eyes, exhaustion, since the rogues have been coming and going constantly. “I did.” He pushes away from the table and stands up, stretching with a groan and a couple of cracks since the morning is still too early for his body to want to be awake. “I’ve heard this far too often because it seems that these rogues don’t know when they’ve overstayed their welcome.”

He’s tolerated them for a while now, mostly due to him still missing two of his betas, but they are progressively getting more and more on his nerves. Especially when they’ve been trying to rally support from the other packs to try and use it as some kind of legitimacy to their challenge.

While there are some of the other Alphas who agree that Chris needs to take on a mate or accept the challenge, they all agree that it is ultimately up to Chris on the direction that he and his pack are going to take. “Though, if the next meeting comes around and you haven’t figured it out, we will make the choice for you.” Chris scoffs as he remembers one of the elder Alpha’s words. So much for agreeing it was his choice. Usually, they don’t like getting involved in how other packs are run but they will take action if they have to especially if there is cause for concern – apparently, rogues working together is enough of a reason for them to start getting nervous and poke their noses into Chris’ business.

As the Alpha walks outside, Minho at the head of the group of rogues who are all standing behind him, Chris notices something that does not match the scene. “I brought you something,” Minho smirks as he holds out the box of cupcakes that Chris knows far too well, the sweet smell causing his nose to twitch in response as if he’s trying to pick out your scent amongst the strong scent of strawberry icing.

Fuck, he’s missed that smell.

There’s a deep growl emitting from Chris’ chest, so deep, so guttural that everyone except Minho stumbles back a step as he stalks forward – though, he can tell by the shift in Minho’s scent that the younger is still smart enough to be intimidated by the Alpha.

However, clearly not smart enough to not taunt him.

“Why do you have those?” Chris growls, careful not to knock Serena’s hard work out of his hands and waste them.

Minho shrugs, opening the box and taking a cupcake out, taking his time to eat it in front of him. Chris could rip his throat out right then and there and he knows that, but with the audience that they now have, the older wouldn’t let his anger get in the way of his pride. “She’s cute, you know.” Minho says thoughtfully as he chews, “She thinks you’re a right fucking asshole and well, it makes her smart too, I guess.”

Chris grits his teeth, his eyes flashing gold as he holds onto his anger tightly but not enough that it doesn’t show through in minute ways. “What. Have. You. Done?” He enunciates the words through a tightly clenched jaw while Minho leisurely eats another cupcake.

From what Chris recalls, nothing has been going on in the little bakery, everything has been going just fine and there hasn’t been any unusual visitors coming and going but it seems that Minho has been able to be around you without Chris’ surveillance picking up on it. Yes, he is fully aware that he refused to go back to the bakery again but he didn’t ever say anything about making sure that you were left alone regardless of you knowing or not – you’re still his mate. He may not want to claim you but he won’t reject you either because… he simply doesn’t want to.

He refuses to explain further to anyone even himself, while it may not even work due to you being a human, he refuses to reject you because there’s a small, teeny tiny part of him that wants to be able to accept you. He wants you, every fibre in his body screams for you when he sees you from afar, his wolf growls darkly in the back of his head when he hears your name on someone else’s lips, and when he catches a whiff of your scent in any store he happens to walk into – fuck, he nearly goes out to search for you.

The longer he keeps himself away, the harder it is to resist you and that’s why he cannot be around you, as twisted as his logic seems to be.

The moment his hands are on you – you’re not leaving him ever again and that’s the excuse he’ll use as to why he cannot be near you. He cannot lock you into a life that he knows will only destroy everything that you have because what nobody seems to understand is that Chris won’t simply protect his mate – he will bring the world to its knees for you. This life isn’t as magical as books might make it seem, it’s surrounded by darkness and the last thing Chris would ever do is taint the light that he can feel residing within you with everything that goes bump in the night. He’d destroy it and himself to keep you safe.

Chris has known this ever since his first girlfriend, ever since he first fell in love, he would destroy anyone who dared to hurt her. His father had to tear a teenage Chris off a packmate when they had the audacity to scare his girlfriend at the time and thus began Chris needing to learn how to control himself better. He had to learn how to manage his anger, how to deal with his wolf’s more aggressive nature because training to be an Alpha is a hard journey and if he couldn’t contain his most primal behaviours as a teenager – he’d steer the pack into a dangerous future when he took over.

So, he did his best. While he’s not perfect, not by a long shot, he has a bad temper most of the time and he will absolutely throw the first punch – Chris tries his best to keep himself in check so he wouldn’t take the pack down the road that his parents feared he would.

Is it hard? Hell yes, but Chris is determined.

When Minho lost his mate, the reaction that he had, both confirmed and solidified the reason why Chris couldn’t accept his mate when he found them. If he would cave in the skull of a packmate for simply scaring his girlfriend when he was 16, what would he do to those who killed his mate? What lengths would he go to to avenge his fallen lover?

Would he be able to stop even after the war had been won?

No. He knows he wouldn’t be stopped unless he was killed and considering he’s a fucking good Alpha – he refuses to leave the pack without one… even if it means holding off giving the pack an heir.

“Minho.” Chris growls, getting in the other’s face when he doesn’t answer, “the fuck did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” the younger smiles, not averting his eyes from Chris’ as if he is challenging the Alpha. He’s not. Yet, at least. “You’ve left her unattended except for when your second goes and picks up the order you always keep. I was curious to know why you were so attached to that bakery and then I discovered a sweet little lamb called Sugar~.” He gives a wolfish grin, tilting his head. “It wasn’t exactly hard to figure everything out after that.”

Minho has known for a while but Chris doesn’t need to know that otherwise, it would throw off their entire plan. Sure, part of the plan isn’t to turn the entire pack against their Alpha but with the way that the pack is, he isn’t surprised that some of the wolves that have gathered around are intrigued by what he’s saying.

“Does she know?” Minho asks, a twinkle in his eyes showing that he’s loving this, the struggle of Chris keeping himself together. “Does she know what you are and what she is to you?” He can feel the rage rolling off Chris in waves, so strong that some of the wolves around him are responding, either by moving away from their Alpha or growling at those who are the cause of the problem. Looking around at the confused and curious wolves, Minho moves closer to Chris, closing any distance that they had between them, and bares his teeth. “Do they know that you’ve been hiding her?”

There’s silence, the sound of Chris’ heavy breathing is all that can really be heard as he tries his best not to tear his former friend’s throat out.

“When?” Chris grits the word out through tightly clenched teeth. “When the fuck do you want to do this?”

Pretending to think about it, Minho strokes his chin, humming for a moment before simply saying, “Next full moon. One month.”

Nodding once, Chris accepts. “You’ll stay away from her.”

Minho indicates for the other rogues to leave using a simple head gesture that causes them all to push past the pack that has surrounded them. They are greatly outnumbered but they weren’t here for a fight so it doesn’t really bother them if the others were trying to intimidate them by boxing them in, none of them have the same fire that Chris has. “No guarantees.” Minho says confidently, turning his back on Chris to leave with the others.

Chris watches, shoulder rising and falling with his shallow inhales, staring daggers into the back of Minho’s head until his view is blocked by Felix. He knows that everyone is going to want answers, answers that he’s not ready to give, not right now.

Was this part of Minho’s plan? What the fuck is his plan considering the other must know that he would not be able to win in a fight against Chris? No matter how strong Minho is, Chris has always been stronger and on a full moon – even greater so.

“Chris,” Felix pulls his attention away from the retreating rogues and back to his pack who are all waiting for answers.

“No.”

Felix grabs his arm to keep him from leaving and the younger nearly gets his hand broken for such an insolent action. “You can’t just leave after what just happened.” The others all mumble in agreement and Chris can feel a headache forming, “I had my suspicions but… you said she meant nothing.”

“You found your mate and didn’t tell us?” One of the other betas, Jaehyun, steps forward, looking pissed. “Seriously, Chris?” One warning growl from the Alpha has everyone stopping what they are saying or about to say but it doesn’t stop them from looking to him for an explanation, wanting to know he’s refused to take his mate when he’s found you.

“I did it for a good reason.” He says definitively, pushing past everyone even though he can still hear them muttering their disapproval of his actions and their disappointment in their Alpha.

Was this the whole reason Minho came here? There’s something sinister about what they have planned because Minho is one of the only people who knows why Chris won’t take a mate and yet, he’s pushing it. He’s even willing to turn the Alpha’s pack against him to force Chris into doing what he wants. Is that why he challenged Chris? Thinking that the older wouldn’t take the challenge in fear of losing everything?

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs as he walks back into the house and heads straight to his room to lie down and rest. There are far more questions than answers and with all the noise that’s going on and the minds he now needs to ease and explanations he has to give, Chris needs to rest before his head fucking explodes from all the tension that’s building.

He’s going to kill him, he thinks as his head hits the pillow, what for? Chris doesn’t know which reason he’ll use but he knows that if Minho continues down this dangerous path, one filled with mystery and games, Chris will have no choice but to kill him.

Even if he doesn’t want to.

He refuses to let a rogue best him, no matter whom it is and what they had meant to him once upon a time.

You hear the doorbell chime and look up with your signature smile, laughing softly at the man who is walking into the store holding an iced coffee, smothered with whipped cream, just how you like it. “You are a quick study,” you basically skip out from behind the counter to meet him. “I’ve been dying all morning since I haven’t been able to have my sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Minho laughs, shaking his head at the way you nearly down the entire cup while you walk back to the other side, leaning against the counter and folding his arms over his chest. “You know, with the amount of coffee you drink a day, I’m surprised you aren’t breaking the sound barrier when you walk.” His teasing tone has you laughing loudly with him and pushing his arm before you sip it slower. “How has today been?”

You get to chatting about the day and how slow it’s been, only leaving his side whenever someone comes in to buy some food but he doesn’t mind, you’ve learned that he seems to enjoy the way you’ll smile at customers and get them to buy a little treat for themselves even if it is at a discounted price so that they can avoid having any wastage at the end of the day.

Minho, while strange at first with his habit of coming to the beach at the same time you did, has quickly become one of, if not your only, friends in this small town. He’s shown you some of the best places to get coffee and delivers it to you on days when you seem too tired to function, he’ll drag you out of the house and take you to quiz nights which you’ve learnt he sucks at but still goes every time, and he never makes you feel like utter shit whenever he teases you. There’s always a lightheartedness to his teasing, nothing that degrades your intelligence or pokes fun at you for not having picked up on something, he teases you about how sometimes you wear odd socks or that you drink the milkiest, sweetest coffees to stay alive.

In a few short weeks, Minho went from being a stranger on the beach to being a good friend who you actually enjoyed being around. You don’t know anything about his intentions, he’s never given you a reason to question his motives for befriending you, and there’s no suspicion about him hiding something from you. All you know is that he’s funny, he listens and he takes the time to bring you coffee and talk about the day.

“You want to come to a party this weekend?” Minho asks after you serve a customer, still smiling as you look over at him, “A friend of mine is having a house party and I thought you might want to go. You said you’ve never been to one before, right?”

This is true, sort of. There was a difference between what you’d seen being thrown at houses in places with the space and getting drunk at a friend’s place before going to the clubs. “When?” You purse your lips, pretending to think about it even though you both know that you’ll say yes because you’ve never been one to turn down an invitation to a party.

“Saturday.”

“Will it be big?”

Thinking about it for a moment, Minho tries to figure out whether he should share exactly who the person hosting the party is but then again, if you know then you might decline. “Yeah, it’s a massive house just out of town, no noise control and you know small towns – everyone shows up eventually.”

You grin, excited, you’ve seen those types of parties in the movies, the rich kids that throw lake parties when their parents are out of town and you can’t help but vibrate with excitement at the thought of doing something like that. Oh, it’s definitely going to be different from what you’ve done before. The reason why they never really did that in the city, choosing to pre-game at home and then going to the clubs is because eventually, noise control turns up and ruins all of the fun. “I’m in!” You bounce on your feet before looking over at the kitchen, “Is it okay if I ask Serena if she wants to come?”

He’s not going to tell her no, Minho knows better than to try and get in between the bond that the sisters have but he knows that the best way for this plan to work is to have you alone rather than under the protective older sister’s watch. She reigns you in, he’s realised, she makes sure that you are being responsible when you want to let loose, he can see it, hiding beneath the surface and all you need is one night – this night in particular – to be free.

It all rests on you letting loose and throwing caution to the wind.

Walking into the kitchen, you see Serena kneading dough with her sleeves rolled up, apron covered in flour, and stand beside her with a childish grin that can only ever be used on a parent or sibling. “Yes?” Serena asks, not even looking at her sister and you lean a little closer, moving into her personal space, “What do you want?”

“Party on Saturday?” You wiggles your eyebrows and leans away when Serena turns to look at you, “Minho said it’s at his friend’s place and that it’s going to be big!”

“If Minho is spending so much time here gossiping, maybe he should grab an apron and help.” She says shortly before huffing out a breath and taking a moment to think about it. She’s looking at you in a way that almost feels like she’s scrutinising you but doesn’t say anything about her younger sister’s new best friend. It’s obvious that she’s worried, of course, she’s happy that you have friends but she’s been suspicious of Minho ever since he started coming around. Maybe she wants to look out for you so you don’t get into a relationship with someone who seems like he’d rather play the field but there’s never been anything romantic with Minho – not that you’ve noticed. “I have plans,” she says finally, your brow furrowing because this is news to you.

“Plans?” You begin to question but Minho’s voice calling from the front has you remembering that you have a job to do. “This is not over~.” You say with a wink before rushing towards the door, greeting the customer walking in.

“So,” Minho leans close, your eyes quickly shifting to his side profile before looking at the customer walking around, “what did she say?”

“She has plans,” you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, a little disgruntled about the fact that your sister hasn’t been as forthcoming with her private life as you have been. “It’ll be just me.” You push away the attitude that’s brewing, choosing to focus on the party and getting excited about it instead.

Knocking on the counter twice with a grin on his face, Minho moves away, “Great, I’ll pick you up out front around 9ish, okay? Don’t overdress, city girl!” You laugh loudly, shaking your head at him before he waves and heads out, “See you then, Sugar~.” You wave back, telling him goodbye before turning to the customer approaching the counter, and giving them a warm smile. It’s easier to smile when you have something to be excited about.

The music from the party is so loud, it can be heard down the road even without werewolf hearing and it only grows louder and more intense the closer he gets to the house, making Chris want to turn around and head back home. He couldn’t though, he had heard that the rogues had decided to rent out this house which meant they had been staying on his territory without his permission. The Alpha isn’t going to cause a scene, he knows better than to do that of course but he isn’t going to let them throw a massive party and expect him to not turn up and make sure shit doesn’t go down.

Little does he know, Minho and the others actually expected him to turn up. The need for control is something that makes Chris predictable and with the challenge coming up and him still not taking you as his mate, they decided to lay a trap that the Alpha wouldn’t be able to run away from.

What’s a better way to mess with an Alpha than to dangle his mate like bait?

“Oh, look who arrived,” Seungmin walks over to Chris when he walks through the front door, immediately noticing several members of his pack are here as well as other wolves from surrounding packs. “I don’t think you were formally invited, Chris, but yet, here you are.”

Glaring at the young wolf, he wonders if he should have come at all. “This is happening on my territory, Seungmin. You and Minho should both have known I would turn up regardless.” Chris’ name is called from somewhere amongst the crowd and it doesn’t take him long to find the wolf trying to get his attention. One of his betas has noticed the presence of their Alpha and is waving at him, Chris smiles politely and gives a short wave back before turning back to look at Seungmin. “What do you think you guys are doing?”

“Well, we couldn’t exactly just leave with the full moon coming up and the challenge so we thought it might be easier to stay close, stay nearby so that if you happened to change your mind, you’d be able to find us.” Chris scoffs, finding their reasoning to be a bunch of bullshit but he couldn’t care to argue or fight with the amount of people slowly filling up the rooms. Clearly, they’ve managed to get the word around pretty quickly to have this many people turn up already. “If you do decide to stay, have a drink. Loosen up. You want to blend in and keep an eye on everyone then stop looking like the disapproving father and look like every guy your age.” Shoving a beer into his hand, Seungmin walks off, not waiting to listen to the Alpha’s retort.

Chris’ jaw tenses, grinding his teeth as he sniffs the beer and places it down before heading over to the kitchen and helping himself to the fridge. It will be harder to get any form of information if he’s looking extremely pissed off in a room filled with humans and wolves having fun and mingling but he’s unimpressed by their antics so it’ll take a while for him to settle. He chooses to do that in a corner that is far enough away from everyone so they won’t be able to bother him and he can observe before trying to blend in.

He’s the only Alpha and while the humans won’t know who he is, the wolves will so he needs to make everyone less on edge to get what he wants.

He sits there, a few beers into his night and he notices that the place has filled up more than it was an hour or so ago. Did the town really have this many people or have they been bringing people from surrounding towns to come and party with them? Shaking his head, Chris finishes his beer and decides that he needs something stronger to get him into a more social mood; he makes his way over to the kitchen only to be intercepted by Minho.

Where the hell did he come from?

“Where have you been hiding?” Minho laughs, the glazed over look in his eyes and the stench of alcohol on his breath shows he’s had a few drinks so maybe he’s been here for a while. “You’ve been drinking the weak shit if you aren’t out on the dance floor already.”

Raising an eyebrow, Chris is curious at how the other wolf is drunk considering alcohol takes a longer time to have an effect on their bodies. “You’re drunk?”

“Tipsy,” Minho corrects with a grin before slapping a hand onto Chris’ shoulder, causing the older to look at the limb and wonder if he’s planning something. “Oh, come off it man, you are so suspicious. Let loose. This is your fucking problem.” He leads them towards the kitchen and goes for one of the bottles that are sitting on the table, pouring another drink for himself and taking a swig before pouring Chris a drink. “You are so uptight.” Minho continues to drink before Chris slowly brings the plastic cup to his lips and tastes the sweet alcohol, nose wrinkling but he continues to down the whole cup. As if seeing the sight is something that is worthy of a cheer, Minho claps and snatches the empty cup from Chris before shoving his own into the elder's hand. “Help yourself next time~ there’s plenty to go around and for fuck sake, enjoy the party, man.” As Chris sips on the new drink, Minho decides that he’s bored and it’s time to go and mingle, walking out of the room with a wave of his hand and some parting words, “Enjoy your surprise.”

Chris’ brow furrows as he tries to figure out what Minho means by that, the hair on the back of his neck standing on edge as if he’s in danger but his thoughts are interrupted by the hooting and cheering coming from the other room. Finishing his drink and crushing the cup in his hand, Chris discards the crumpled plastic in the nearest bin as he goes to investigate the commotion. What has everyone whistling so loud that anyone can hear it over the bass blasting through the speakers?

He stops dead in his tracks as he enters the room, everything in his body suddenly on high alert as soon as he finds the reason. Standing at the other end of the room with the DJ’s hands on her waist, pouring vodka into his mouth, is the last person that Chris thought he would have to see again.

A person he told himself he didn’t want to see again. A person that he needed to see again – though, not like this.

Everything moves in slow motion. The hands in the air, fists pumping, waving, the sounds of the cheers as you kiss the DJ afterward, the way the DJ’s hands move to your ass and grabs so greedily. Everything moves in slow motion but Chris’ heart races in his chest at the show of his mate letting another fucking man shove his tongue down your throat.

His nostrils flare, his fists tighten and the muscle in his jaw clenches as you pull away, laughing and shouting with the crowd.

The music gets louder, pumping with the alcohol running through everyone’s veins and the Alpha parts the bodies that separate him from his mate. He only sees you, jumping and dancing with someone else now, he doesn’t notice the eyes that are on him as they nudge each other and watch the wolf stalk toward you.

Chris is blind to the dangers around him because all he can think about now is removing the scent of the DJ from your body.

You don’t even notice Chris making his way towards you, you’re having way too much fun and feeling so good. Minho had promised a good night where you could let loose, where you could do all the things that you wanted to do without needing to be good and behave with your sister around. A night where it’s all about feeling alive! You know that there’s no way that Serena would have let you do that with the DJ in front of the room – Minho did though, in fact, he encouraged it.

You close your eyes, swaying with the bass as you stand in front of the speakers and wow, you feel like you’re flying. The vibrations from the bass has your heart racing on a different level and with the amount of alcohol you’ve had tonight, you feel like you could take on the world and win. Confidence and no care was a dangerous mix when living life in a way that you’ve never really been able to before.

Nothing can ruin your night.

Nothing can ruin your vibe.

Nothing in this world can ruin your fun.

Well, maybe except for him.

You feel the warmth against your back, electricity rushing through you as you lean into the solid body behind you. There’s a familiar feeling in the way this feels, a sense of deja vu but you don’t think about it, why would you? You don’t want to think about anything except the way the song’s making you feel. You lift your hands up and as if the man behind you know what you’re wanting, he allows you to wrap them around his neck, guiding him to the curve of your neck while his hands slowly creep around your waist.

There’s a possessiveness in the way he holds you, in the way that he tries to encompass your body and it sends a sweet shiver up your spine as he moves with you to the music. You don’t quite know it but he radiates it and anyone who dares to look at you with the slightest bit of interest suddenly looks away due to the look in his eyes before burying his nose into your neck.

Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck and smiles at the response that he gives against your skin. The softest lips place wet kisses along your pulse, reminding you of a dream you had once. The mystery man from the club that has been plaguing your dreams is slowly being replaced by this stranger who isn’t as gentle in his touch but creates the same heat in your core as his teeth graze that sweet spot just behind your ear.

“Are you having fun?” A deep voice growls into your ear as he nips on your earlobe and while your insides melt, your brow furrows for a moment because you’re sure that you know that voice. A voice you’ve thought about more than you like to admit but haven’t heard in a while.

No, it can’t be him.

A soft hum vibrates at the back of your throat, nodding your head as you turn her cheek in the direction of his lips, body pressing against him so that your swaying is rubbing against his crotch. “I’m having a lot of fun.” You smile, trying to turn in his hold so that you can feel more than his teeth nipping your jawline but he keeps you from doing so, from seeing him, and your soft red lips pull into a small pout.

“Tell me, do you like to kiss every man you see?” He dips his head back into your neck, inhaling deeply.

You giggle and shake your head, causing him to lift his own slightly. “No, only the hot ones~,” you say playfully.

With a hand slowly ghosting over your body, grabbing your chin so gently but securely in between his thumb and index fingers, he speaks lowly into your ear. “Close your eyes.” It’s almost like he’s testing you, seeing if you’ll kiss him without knowing what he looks like or maybe it’s because Chris knows that the moment you know it’s him – you wouldn’t dare.

“Hm, that’s not fair,” your lips twitch at the corners, deciding to play along with his game. “How about you tell me your name first?”

Tilting your chin towards him, just enough that you can see the lower half of his face, you see the way those plump lips smirk before he speaks. “You know my name, sugar.” And with those five words, you’re hit with a wave of emotions that all conflict with each other.

Part of you is happy, excited almost, to see Chris again, fuck, you didn’t think that you would ever feel that way about him considering everything but you do. Another part of you is pissed off that he toyed with you like this as if he hasn’t been the biggest asshole, or a close second, that you’ve ever met. You don’t want to move away from him, enjoying the way that your body seems to fit with his, loving the way that his hands are holding you like you belong to him. Yet, you want to push him away, remove the feeling of him with force if you have to.

You both want to slap him for taking you for a fool and kiss him because you want to know if his lips are as soft as they felt against your neck.

“Fuck you,” you push him away, storming off through the crowd but Chris isn’t too far behind you, not wanting to give you up even though he had fought against his bond with you for weeks, if not, months.

Chris manages to catch you in the kitchen, grabbing your wrists when you reach for another drink, and without even thinking, you slap him. It’s loud, louder than the music that has followed you into the next but if anyone heard it, they didn’t give any indication that they had. You both stare at each other for a moment, both lust and anger coursing through your bodies as your eyes lock, his chest rising and falling in rapid success as he stares down at you, the redness on his cheek standing out against his fair complexion.

“I–” You’re about to apologise, you don’t know why you were going to but it just feels appropriate to say sorry for causing a handprint on his face. You never managed to finish the sentence though because Chris pulls you closer and helps break the tension between them. Kissing you roughly in a way that has you losing your breath. Your hands lift to rest against his chest and Chris pulls away, thinking he messed up but you simply fist his shirt in your hands and pull him closer, making him kiss you again while backing you towards the bench.

You shouldn’t be doing this, not here, not where anyone could walk in and see you having a heated make-out session with a man you swore as your enemy but the moment his lips met yours – you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anyone seeing you or anyone having a problem with it because this is exactly the type of letting loose you feel like you need.

His tongue slips inside your mouth, coaxing yours to dance with his and his hands move down to your ass, squeezing and pulling you so close that you could almost become one person. You feel his muscles over his Nirvana shirt as your hands move down his chest and over his abdomen, firm and hard, something that you had guessed once by looking at him but feeling it? A rush runs through your body that seems to set fire to your core.

Your fingers are close to touching his skin, at feeling him but his hands are so fast at catching your wrists and moving them away with that stupid smirk against your lips. “Uh uh, sugar, not so fast.”

You groan, hating the sound of his voice and hating how he’s worked you up so easily, gotten you right where he wants you only to deny you of something that could make him seem at least enjoyable to hate. You bite down on his plump bottom lip, harshly but not enough to draw blood, and Chris growls deeply in his chest, the vibrations rumbling against your own. “You’re so mean, you know that?” You hiss at him when you let go, “You started this and now you’re stopping? Ugh, that’s so annoying.”

Wow, you really sound like a child who isn’t getting your way.

Chris seems to find your anger at him amusing and he pulls away to look at you, his dark eyes dancing with the lust that you’re bringing out of him. He lets go of your wrist, only one as he holds the other tightly, and lifts his free hand to your chin; his fingers hold you securely as his eyes never leave yours, reading the heat behind your burning gaze. Turning your head towards the party, Chris brings your attention to the area that they are in while his lips ghost along the shell of your ear.

“You want to give them another show?”

Using all the strength that you can muster in one hand, you push hard against his chest and Chris steps back as he chuckles, knowing that he’s rattled your cage. “Fuck you.” You say as you storm off towards the bathroom so that you can cool off – or get off.

You feel Chris behind you, not letting you get too far away from him, and while you want to round on him and give him another piece of your mind, another side of you has a completely different thought, one you’ve read far too many times in your books. You want him to follow you, to lock the bathroom door behind him, and cage you against the sink. You want him to fuel that fire, to mock you, tease you, and then kiss you until you both can’t breathe. You want him to run those stupid, large, veiny hands down your body and cause goosebumps to cover your skin. You want him to fuck you like you’ve been dreaming and fantasising about.

You don’t know where it comes from, this need for him, this passion that runs through your veins when it comes to Chris. His irritatingly sexy voice whispers in your ear as they enter the small bathroom together, reaching behind him to lock the door. His infuriatingly firm body presses against your body as his annoyingly handsome face is seen in the mirror.

Why? Why can’t you get him out of her head when he pisses you off so much? Why are you so attracted to him when he’s showing everything that you say you hate about a man?

They say that there’s a fine line between love and hate but this? This is something else entirely and you want to say that you don’t want him but as his hands rest on your body, tightly holding onto your waist, you push back against him. You grind her ass against his groin and feel the effect that you have on him. It’s like everything you’ve been thinking in your mind before is about to play out and you can’t help but think that this is a pretty typical encounter for enemies who can’t stand each other.

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” He growls, teeth clenched as he pulls you closer while rolling his hips and making you feel his length. “You’re driving me insane.”

Everything he says he doesn’t need, everything he lies to himself about when it comes to a mate, it all went out the window the moment that your lips met. Chris had no idea what he was thinking but the moment that he saw you with another man’s lips against yours, something inside his mind snapped and all he could think about was making sure that he erased that man’s taste off your tongue. The slap added fuel to the burning fire building in his abdomen, a slight sucker for pain maybe, but it only pushed him towards you instead of making him step back.

He should have left you alone when you headed to the bathroom though but he didn’t. He should have stopped at the threshold and let you be but here he is.

Here you are.

And there goes his sanity.

Pushing against you, he can smell you, your arousal, and it is so fucking intoxicating. It goes straight to his head and fills his mind with many different ways that he could claim you. You are his after all, his mate, he should take you and make sure that everyone at this party knows who you belong to but Chris tries so hard to hold onto whatever broken sanity he has. He can’t force you into this life, not without knowing what it is, he needs to remember that… he needs to focus…

“What the fuck are you doing to me? You’re driving me insane.” Your eyes are locked in the mirror, Chris watching you react so prettily to his need pressing against your ass. The bathroom is too small, there’s not enough space to put distance between you even if he tried. Your scent is filling up the room quickly and all his blood is rushing to his cock, making his pants tight and uncomfortable.

He needs to get you away from him before he can’t hold back. The way your body is responding so readily to him, moving in time with his movements as you practically dry hump while staring into each other’s eyes – it is not helping. All it’s doing is telling him that you want him, that your body can take him, and now all Chris can really think about is how he could slip right between your folds and stretch you out nicely. Shit, that thought definitely isn’t helping.

“Sugar,” your hum sounds too much like a moan and Chris tenses his jaw as if he’s one movement away from breaking. “I need you to leave.” Your brow furrows, confused and he takes a few shallow breaths as if that’ll clear his head with you surrounding him. “If we don’t- fuck-” You push against him and his fingers flex, nearly holding you tight enough that you’ll bruise, “don’t fucking do that.” He growls and your body shivers at the sound.

“Why not?” He can see the smile playing on your biteable lips as you do it again and Chris groans deeply at the feeling. You’re loving the fact that he’s unable to get away from you on his own, that it’s really up to you. It’s the reason you won’t leave, knowing that you have the power to basically make or break him right now, that you are able to get under his skin, why would you back away and stop this?

You don't understand that he’s doing this for your sake as well as his own. You just know that you’re winning and that’s all you want.

You brush your hair to the side as you press your back against his chest, your scent fragrant and strong as Chris grits his teeth and closes his eyes. A happy place, he tries to convince himself, go to a happy place, and not give in to your temptation but it seems his wolf is taking your side and giving in. It’s a battle of the wills and Chris has very little self-control in this situation. It’s true that he hasn’t had sex in a while, suppressing every rut with whatever magical potion he can get his hands on and exerting the energy through training so being presented with a sweet treat like you makes it hard for him to resist.

What is he other than a simple wolf?

His nose runs down the length of your neck, inhaling deeply and tightening his fingers on your hips. If he slips, even just slightly, his nails will dig into her soft skin and break the skin so he needs to be… “Fuck.” Chris growls deeply as his teeth graze softly over a patch of your skin that makes you moan and the sound bounces off the walls, or at least that’s what it feels like. “You’re dangerous, sugar.”

Giggling, fucking giggling, you lean forward and grip the basin while pushing your ass right against his bulge, his cock throbbing and begging to be released. How the fuck is he going to get out of this? No, how is going to fuck you without– “I taste just as sweet as I sound.” Your words cause Chris to freeze for a moment as his brain registers what you just said and it seems that it is all the wolf needs to lose the battle since his fingers automatically move to push your dress over your perfect ass.

Now, he’s not someone who cares about a woman’s body. They are always beautiful no matter their size but your soft hips told him that you were built like a meal. Licking his lips, Chris looks down and runs his hands smoothly over your rump before giving it a spank. You yelp softly, eyes locked on his face but Chris is too busy watching the little jiggle he’s rewarded with and he does it again, just to revel in how your body reacts. “Is that so, sugar?” Fuck, your arousal is so much stronger and it causes his mouth to salivate like he’s so close to his dessert that he can taste it on his tongue already. “You offering a free taste test?”

“Only if you are man enough to try it.” Your words are meant to be a jab but Chris simply chuckles, his lips lifting in a smirk as he moves one hand up your back, dress lifting more, while the other runs teasingly along your clothed core.

You’re soaked, he knew you would be but feeling it is better than he can imagine. The teasing, the thrill of the fuck, hell, maybe even the fighting turns you on. “Do you always get this wet around me, hm?” Applying a little more pressure, Chris rubs back and forth and notices how you stand on your tiptoes to give him a better angle. “When we fought in the bakery, were you clenching your thighs to stop yourself from begging me to fuck you?” You gasp lightly as he rubs circles over your clit before continuing working you over your panties. “Does a little fighting count as foreplay for you? Maybe you’re not as sweet as you look, sugar, hm?”

He can hear you trying to retort, trying to reply and get back at him but your body betrays you by clenching around nothing and just feeling it, knowing it would feel so good around his cock makes his wolf howl in the back of his head.

“Spread a little for me, baby girl,” Chris gently slaps your thighs and you comply. “There’s a good girl.” He growls out before using both hands to rip your panties messily, the pieces still clinging to your hips while the crotch hangs pathetically. Well, they were ruined anyway.

Before you can say anything, before you can try to tell him off for ruining a seemingly pretty set of lingerie, Chris plunges two calloused fingers into your soaked pussy. His digits slide in easily with no resistance just like he imagined, just like he’s dreamed about, your walls accepting him as they flutter around his fingers and sounding so messy as he prepares you for what’s to come.

You are but that’s not the point.

“Such a pretty little whore, hm? Letting yourself get fucked in the bathroom at a house party,” Chris grins as his eyes meet yours in the mirror, your eyes hardening slightly before he moves his hand and curls his fingers, watching your reaction to him hitting that sweet spot. “Huh? What was that?”

Your head drops as you push back, trying to take him deeper, “fuck you.” You manage out in one breath before biting your lip harshly, as if you’re trying to stop him from hearing those sweet moans he knows you can make.

“Sorry, kitten, I didn’t hear you.” Chris brings his other hand into play, reaching around you and rubbing your clit while still fingering you from behind. The moans break through, knuckles turning white from how tightly you’re holding the basin and he knows it’s getting hard for you to keep yourself from falling completely. He can feel it, the way your body tenses and relaxes, the push and pull, the internal fight unlike what he was having – you want to mess with him but you also want to give in and feel so good. “You were saying?”

“You’re cruel!” You whine, clenching around him. He doesn’t know whether you’re referring to the fact that Chris hasn’t picked up the pace and has basically been keeping you on the brink or the fact that he’s enjoying turning the tables on you despite him barely holding back. “God, please! Just… please!”

Ah, the pace.

It won’t be that easy though. “Please, what, sugar?” Chris slows down ever-so-slightly. You shake your head, biting your lip and not wanting to give him what he wants, so he slows down a little more, fingers barely doing anything but keeping you on edge and making your body jolt. “You want something, tell me and I’ll give it to you.” He rubs your clit a little and you moan softly before he stops again, “Otherwise, you won’t get to cum.”

You contemplate, wondering if this really is worth it but when he rubs your clit again, you fold almost instantly. God, it’s been so long since a guy has made you feel this good and you refuse to go home with your pussy throbbing for the thickness you could feel beneath his pants – not without having it stretch you out and fill you up first. A bitch in heat maybe, you’re starting to feel like one right now with the way your body is heating up and begging for more. “Please, let me cum.” You try not to make it sound like you’re begging but the whine you let out makes it impossible to play off otherwise.

A deep growl of approval is what you’re rewarded with as Chris picks up his pace and finds the perfect rhythm to send you over the edge. You feel it starting in your toes before making its way up your body and mixing with the heat in your core. It reminds you of when you’ve been playing with your vibrator and haven't cum in so long that your whole body responds so intensely. A visceral reaction to the stimulation. Your hand slaps down on the stone basin, stinging your palm while your body goes rigid for a moment as your walls clench and flutter around his fingers, still moving and not slowing down. A long moan escapes you but you can’t slap a hand over your mouth out of fear that you may collapse without both hands to support you.

“So fucking pretty,” Chris says as he slows down his movements and pulls his fingers away from your throbbing heat. “You feeling okay, hm?” He asks, eyes on yours as if he’s really concerned for you and he waits, a few heartbeats, for you to nod her head. “Good.” Your eyes widen when Chris brings his fingers to his lips, unashamedly keeping eye contact while sucking them clean before tilting his head back in pleasure. The way he moans at your taste goes straight to your empty cunt, sensitive but needing more. “You do taste so fucking sweet.”

His eyes almost shine as he looks back at you and there’s something slightly different about him. You can’t explain it, not really but it’s almost like he’s more gone than he has been showing or like another side has come out, whatever it could be, you can’t linger on it for too long because Chris is unbuckling his belt and releasing his cock. Not that you can see it, even if you were to look over her shoulder, you wouldn’t be able to see from the way that you’re leaning forward but it’s not long before you feel it.

Chris rubs the tip through your folds, gathering your slick and using it as a lubricant before grabbing your hips and pushing forward to sheath to the hilt. You whine at the intrusion, thicker than his fingers, but feeling so good that you don’t think about anything else. He moves slowly, allowing you to feel every inch stretch your velvet walls and all you can say at the feeling is, “holy shit.” He knows that you’re still feeling high from your previous orgasm, so you’re only given a short moment before Chris is pulling you up by your shoulder and wrapping an arm around your body.

Breath hot against your sensitive skin, his cock as deep as he can get it at this angle, Chris kisses your neck. One hand is on your hips, holding on for dear life while the other arm is wrapped around your chest, just under your breasts, as you’re crushed against his firm body. “You feel even better than I imagined.” Chris’ voice is deep before he starts to move.

There’s barely any thoughts that come through your brain after that, barely anything even registers other than the pleasure coursing through your body as Chris fucks you like he’s as desperate as you are. His head buried in your neck, his low grunts and groans sounding in your ear as you moan and call his name – as well as to whatever Gods may be unfortunately watching. You enjoy sex, it always makes you feel good and she can’t say that she’s never had mind-blowing sex before but this, this is something else entirely. It’s like you fit together perfectly, like he’s filling you completely, hitting all the right spots and making you whimper and whine as another orgasm starts to build.

“Hold it,” Chris commands, his lips pressed against your bare shoulder, eyes locked on your face as you barely manage to make eye contact. “Don’t you dare cum.”

Your hands reach for his, one clinging onto the hand that’s digging, bruising, your soft hips while the other digs into his forearm. This is your only lifeline right now, the only thing keeping you aware. Sure, maybe you didn’t have to inflict pain on Chris but considering his command has your body almost immediately responding – you have to do something. “Please–”

“Not. Yet.” He grunts, picking up the pace. Chris angles his hips to hit the spot that should make you see stars but it doesn’t push you over the edge, not yet, almost as if everything is waiting for him to give permission. He commands your body, he commands what it’s needing and feeling and you are nothing but the puppet following along. Your head falls back against his body, giving in completely and allowing him to build up your orgasm until his strokes begin to get messier and harsher.

It’s as if your body just knew what was about to happen or maybe it’s something else that triggers it but the moment Chris buries himself deep inside her, letting out a deep growl as he harshly bites into your shoulder – you cum around him. Your body feels light, weightless, as he holds you tightly in his arms, teeth breaking skin while your pussy milks his cock. It feels like minutes tick by before Chris pulls out, causing a slight mess between your thighs as cum leaks out of your still pulsing cunt.

In and out. Deep breaths. Nothing but the sound of you two breathing can be heard as you look in the mirror, eyes focusing on Chris only to see him staring at your shoulder. “You have some sharp teeth there, Chris.” You laugh breathily, reaching to touch the bite mark and wincing slightly at the tenderness. You like hickeys, you don’t mind being marked but it was kinky that he bit you like that.

This sets off a chain of events that has you standing there confused and understandably upset. Chris adjusts himself, tidying up his clothes and pulling as far away from you as he can. It’s almost like he didn’t know what had just happened and why he was touching inside you, a shift from how he couldn’t stay away earlier. You’re turning to face him, looking a little happier about being this close to him than you first were when you entered the room but Chris looks like being near you is the last place he wants to be. With a small, uncertain smile, you reach for him, “come on, it couldn’t have been that bad, hm?”

But, Chris pulls his hand away from yours. “This was a mistake…”

The words are said so quietly that you could say you misheard him, only for Chris to make a speedy exit afterwards, so fast that if he was a cartoon, there’d be a cloud in the shape of him. This sudden retreat has you standing there in shock, your lust filled brain getting a harsh reality splashed onto your face. You don't know what happened, why this happened, especially when it seemed like it was something that you both wanted. It wasn’t bad, in fact, while there are so many things you know could have been better – like not being in a bathroom – the way it felt so electric, like your whole body was in tune with his, it was definitely a great way to break your dry spell. None of that is what she’s fixated on though, you can forgive the way he left you to clean up by yourself, you can forgive the slight throbbing from where he bit your shoulder, but what you can’t forgive are those words that Chris dared to utter.

This was a mistake.

Tears well up in your eyes, and your hands shake as you lock the door so you don't get interrupted. As you clean up, those words echo over and over again. This was a mistake. You remember saying that when you broke up with your ex, you remember saying that your relationship was a mistake because you were two different people. You remember hearing Serena say that when she tried to double a recipe she really shouldn’t have and made a monstrous cake that nearly overflowed in the oven. You have heard those words plenty of times in your life but never, ever have you had them said to you like that.

This was a mistake. Damn right, it was. A mistake that will never happen again.

#kvanity #straykidsland #iridescentxstars ©#scenario ; bangchan #werewolf ; bangchan #au ; werewolf #g ; smut #g ; dark #g ; supernatural #g ; enemies to lovers #group ; skz #bangchan scenario #bangchan smut #bangchan fic #bangchan fanfic

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sarahowritesostucky · 8 months ago

Text

Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago.

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.”

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?”

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared.

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?”

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.”

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear.

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs.

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer.

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no—

“Looking for this?”

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.” He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.”

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?”

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?”

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.”

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger.

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger.

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for.

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?”

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.” He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens.

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.”

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you.

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat.

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.”

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.”

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you.

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?”

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss.

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?”

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?”

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.”

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.”

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch.

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little,

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?”

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.”

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?”

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him.

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen.

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there.

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him.

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word.

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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panlight · 4 months ago

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Really is wild when you start to think about what other characters went through during the course of the books that just . . . doesn't matter all that much.

Alice found out how/why she was turned, that she had been hunted by James and a vampire who cared about her turned her to save her and then died protecting her. That's a lot. And then in New Moon she finds out her father had her committed to an asylum and the date on her supposed gravestone matches the date on the admission papers. Also a lot. I guess with this one you can sort of handwave it with "she doesn't remember any of it though so maybe that's why it doesn't affect her much."

Then there's Leah and Seth, who lose their dad, and that's like, hardly a thing other than a) allows for the "funeral" miscommunication and b) makes Sue single so she can take care of Charlie while Bella's off blissfully vampiring. Seth is happy and sunny and sweet pretty much 100% of the time, and Leah's issues are all attributed to the Sam/Emily drama rather than, oh, I don't know, the shock of her phasing into a wolf causing her father's fatal heart attack. The guilt she must feel about that even though it's not at all her fault!

Then there's the Cullens in general dealing with having to hunt down and kill James; having to deal with Edward running away and nearly dying in Volterra; being under the threat of the Volturi because of Edward's misadventure in Italy; having to fight to the death against a bunch of newborns; and facing off against the Volturi. They presumably have been living in peace since whenever it was Maria had shown up in Calgary and then in the space of like a year and a half just complete and utter chaos, and all they can say about it is like, "we're so grateful you saved Edward, Bella!"

Quil, watching all his friends join this mysterious 'cult' and being left out and confiding in Bella about it. Sam dealing with All Of It when he wasn't even supposed to be the Alpha. Embry realizing he's the half-brother of one of these guys and probably searching for that belonging but knowing it could throw the community and families into chaos.

And then there's the pregnancy. Only Rosalie gets to have any feelings about it really and again, it's mostly so she can be Bella's bodyguard and less about Rosalie herself. But Esme has also longed for motherhood and sure she "makes do" with her Cullen kids, but they were all essentially adults when she adopted them. But more importantly she actually HAS been pregnant and HAS had a baby and LOST said baby. She also crushed hard on a vampire when she was a teenager, and now she's watching Bella getting to have a child with the vampire she loves when it's impossible for Esme herself and surely surely surely this would bring up some complicated feelings. But we get nothing. Like, literally nothing from Esme, she might as well not be in the book. She just existed to renovate the cottage.

Then there's Carlisle, whose mother died in childbirth from his normal human birth, watching his new daughter-in-law dying from a pregnancy and listening to his first and most beloved son say how he could never love the creature, his own child, if it kills Bella, and probably looking back on his own fraught relationship with his father and reliving that same resentment from the POV of the 'creature that killed the mother' and again, nothing. Not a factor. No one even mentions it in passing.

And like yes, I know, it's a YA romance, it's Not That Deep, it's about a girl falling in love with a vampire and finding wish fulfillment fantasy in that. I know. Everything else is just set dressing and not given any depth at all because it's not the point. But man, there's SO much there in the little throwaway details and unexplored backstories, and I fully believe that's what is fueling a large part of the fandom to this day.

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hungermakesmonsters · 4 months ago

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Devotion & Desire

Chapter One

Plot summary : When you, a lone omega, move in across the hall from alpha Bucky Barnes, he knows that his life is about to get a lot more complicated, but he has no idea just how much you’re going to turn his life upside down. You’re both devoted to fixing your past mistakes, but will desire for something more get the better of you?

Pairing : Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] All chapters will contain the usual omegaverse and A/B/O tropes, and explicit smut. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6.2k

A/N : this is my first time writing Bucky and writing omegaverse, sorry if anything doesn't meet the usual standards of the genre.

MASTER LIST

Chapter One

You were shivering and he hated what that did to him.

Soaked clothes clung to your figure, leaving nothing to the imagination and betraying every little shiver.

He watched you fumble with your soaked purse for your phone, and heard your frustration a moment later as your call quickly cut out. You shook it, wiped the wet screen on your damp blouse, but he knew that wasn’t going to help matters. Judging from the state of you, the phone was waterlogged and you’d be lucky to get it working again.

You leaned back against your apartment door, kicking it with your heel, letting out the weakest string of cuss words he’d ever heard. It was almost adorable.

All the while, he was pressed against his apartment door, eye to the peephole, watching it all unfold. It wasn’t so much that he was spying on you. No, Bucky liked to think that he was making your life easier. You were such a timid little thing and, ever since you’d moved in across the hall, he’d done everything he could to be a good alpha and not make you uncomfortable.

He’d seen how skittish you were the first time your paths had crossed; him leaving his apartment, just as you were getting home from the grocery store, shock causing you to fumble and drop your bags. You’d barely been able to maintain eye contact as he handed you your Cookie Crunch cereal.

Of course, he didn’t hold it against you - how could he? You were an omega with no reason to trust him, and he knew it couldn’t be easy for you; being the only omega in the building, living across from the only alpha.

So, he’d taken to keeping an eye on you, making sure there were no more accidental meetings in the hallway and that you had no reason to fear him.

But now you were shivering and soaked from the storm raging outside, no coat over the blouse-skirt uniform you wore to work at Gracie’s diner. Had you walked three blocks in the rain without an umbrella? Hadn’t anyone tried to stop you? He found himself overwhelmed by the urge to help you, protect you and, before he realised he was doing it, he was slowly opening the door.

He couldn’t leave you out there, cold and shivering.

Your eyes widened and you shrank back a little. Bucky tried his best to give a friendly smile, making sure not to make any sudden moves or get any closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, “are you okay?”

“I -” your voice came out barely more than a shy whisper, “- I got locked out.”

“Did you call Glenn?” He asked, even though he knew you couldn’t, even though he knew your phone had died before you’d managed to get through to the building manager.

“My phone died,” you told him, holding it up as if you thought he might not believe you.

“Do you want me to call him for you?” He asked and you gave a timid nod. For a second he looked ready to turn and head back into his apartment for his phone, but then he saw you pull your arms around yourself, trembling even more violently. “Do you want to come in and get warm while you wait?”

He watched your eyes drop and let you take a few seconds to consider your options. It was late, far too late to go disturbing any of your beta neighbours and, he knew just how easy it was for omegas like you to get sick.

After a few seconds, you nodded.

“Okay,” he said softly, stepping back, giving you space to move into his apartment.

Your arms wrapped tighter around your body as you stepped over the threshold. He watched your nose twitch, obviously feeling a little overwhelmed by his scent.

“It’s okay,” he tried to reassure you as he slowly shut the door, “you’re safe, I promise. Wait here, I’ll grab you something warm.”

He didn’t wait for you to answer before quickly moving further into his apartment, heading into his bedroom. He was already starting to understand why the other residents of the building had taken to calling you little mouse. It turned his stomach upside down to think about how apprehensive you were and what might have happened to you to cause it.

You were still in the exact spot where he’d left you, still trembling and hugging yourself tight, clothes dripping on the carpet. (Though he quickly regretted looking down and seeing the way the drips from your clothes were running down your bare legs to your little white socks.)

“Here, you can borrow these,” he told you, handing you a dark hoodie and pair of sweatpants. “They might be a little big, but they’re warm.”

After taking them, you were ushered into the bathroom to dry yourself off and change, while he went to call the building manager. And, when you reemerged five minutes later, it took every ounce of restraint he had not to laugh at the sight of you, drowning in his clothes. He gave you space, waving a hand towards the sofa, indicating that you could sit if you wanted to.

You took a seat, peached on the very edge of the sofa.

“I’m Bucky, by the way,” he told you, realising that you hadn’t been officially introduced, even though he was sure you already knew his name like he knew yours.

You responded with your own name, then; “thank you for helping me.”

“That’s okay,” he replied before taking a very obvious pause, giving you an uncertain look. “I have some bad news though; it’s Glenn’s night off. He won’t be back until the morning.”

“Oh.”

He watched as you glanced around nervously.

“I told him you could stay here,” Bucky told you. You both knew that you didn’t have any other choice, so you didn’t bother to try and argue. All you offered was a little nod. “Are you hungry? I was gonna order a pizza.”

“I - I like pizza,” you told him, managing to force a smile to your lips.

It took some coaxing from him, but he found out what pizza you liked and ordered it. Then he put the TV on for you, there was some weird baking program on but you seemed happy enough with it, so he left it on. If anything, the background noise seemed to settle you a little and, after a while, you finally sat back on the sofa, almost disappearing in his hoodie.

“Are you warm enough?” He asked when he noticed you pulling the hood up and snuggling into it.

“I am now.”

Bucky let out a soft laugh, the sort of sound he didn’t make very often and you caught him looking at you with a gentle sort of smile. He couldn’t help it, there was just something so cute about you in that moment, though he almost felt bad the moment he noticed you shyly start to chew on your lip.

“So,” he started, not sure what he wanted to ask, just wanting to make conversation and hopefully set you a little more at ease with him, “what made you move here?”

“After the blip I was staying in an omega-only building, but when everyone came back, the building’s original owner put up the rent,” you shrugged.

He gave a knowing nod. It wasn’t easy for omegas, while there were laws to protect them against discrimination, because of their monthly heat cycles and how prone they were to getting sick, it was hard for them to hold down well-paid jobs. He assumed that was why you worked at the diner, where shifts could be planned and swapped easily.

“I guess it must be weird for you living here with mostly betas... and me...”

While he knew what it was like for him to have to live across the hall from you, he could only imagine how it felt for you. Alphas tended to learn at a young age to control themselves and to ignore day to day stimulus, but he knew omega’s had it worse, that their senses were heightened beyond even alphas. He’d catch your scent in the hallway from time to time, and he was certain you’d catch his.

“It’s okay. Everyone’s been really nice, and -” you hesitated shyly, “- and you’re being nice now.”

He didn’t ask what you meant by now. Bucky knew better than anyone what he could be like, how his gruff, withdrawn and sarcastic attitude could make people uncomfortable.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been around an omega, and I -”

A sudden knock that the door startled you enough to make Bucky wince, completely losing his train of thought. He gave you an uncomfortable look before standing and heading to the door, muttering about how it must be the pizza.

Five minutes later, you were both sitting on his sofa, eating pizza. He made awkward small talk, asking if the food was okay, telling you a little about the pizzeria and how he’d found it a couple of months back and, little by little, your responses got slightly less reluctant. Eventually, you seemed to realise that you were safe and that he wasn’t going to hurt you. He wasn’t sure when or why that became important to him, but the last thing he wanted was for you to feel unsafe around him.

Life had to be hard enough for a lone omega without your alpha neighbour making it worse. And, besides, surely it would be easier for the both of you if you weren’t constantly jumping at each other’s shadows.

Before he could say anything, he noticed you looking at his vibranium hand. Or rather, trying really hard not to look at his hand. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that he wasn’t wearing his gloves - why would he when he was sitting on his own sofa?

“It’s okay,” he said, shrugging, “you can ask.”

Shame flashed on your face and he could tell you were uncomfortable. “Did you have an accident?”

“Yeah, a very long time ago.”

“Oh, well... I’m glad you’re okay...”

For a moment he felt his lips almost pull into a smile, any discomfort he’d felt instantly washing away with your words.

“I, uh, heard you like to draw?” It came out more like a question and had you looking at him seeming a little confused.

“Yeah, a little,” you answered. “I’m not very good though. Who told you?”

“Nikki from downstairs,” he explained and you gave a little nod. “Her and Jade really seem to like you, they’re always talking about you.”

It made you smile, and that smile settled him a little. It was going better than he’d dared to hope and you no longer seemed afraid of him. In fact, you started volunteering information without being prompted.

“They’ve both been really nice,” you told him, “they asked me to go out with them on Friday when I get off work.”

He smiled. “Girls night out?”

“Yeah, though... well, it’s been a really long time since I went on a night out...”

Bucky gave a knowing nod, knowing it probably wasn’t easy for you as an unclaimed omega.

“I’m sure Niikki and Jade will look out for you,” he reassured you.

Conversation from there got a little easier; he told you that he grew up in Brooklyn and that he’d been in the army, and you told him about work and how you’d seen him in Gracie’s Diner a couple of times. You’d never served him, Gracie had rules about that. She was an elderly, take-no-shit sort of woman, and was one of the few employers you’d come across who genuinely went out of her way to look out for the omega’s working for her.

After the conversation reached a natural conclusion, Bucky got up, gathering the dirty plates and the pizza box, and headed for the kitchen. He didn’t even realise that you’d followed after until he turned to find you standing there, and almost jumped out of his skin.

“Sorry,” you almost recoiled at his shock, “I just - can I have a glass of water?”

He looked at you for a moment, completely taken aback - it wasn’t often that anyone managed to sneak up on him - then he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

“Yeah sure,” he handed you a glass, biting back a laugh, “now I get when they call you mouse, you’re so quiet.”

You let out a little laugh, shyly dropping your gaze as you moved around him to the sink. Bucky bit his lip, catching your scent as you stepped past him, and he instantly hated himself for how much he enjoyed your sweet smell.

His eyes followed you as you returned to the sofa, took a drink, and then let out the cutest little yawn he’d ever seen.

“Tired?” He asked, moving back towards you, but not sitting down.

“A little,” you shrug. “The dinner rush at Gracie’s was really hectic.”

He gave an understanding nod before starting to think about the sleeping arrangements. Under normal circumstances, he might have offered you his bed but, even if he changed the sheets that he rarely slept on, he was certain being in his bedroom would overwhelm your omega senses.

“I can get you some bedding and you can sleep on the sofa?” He offered, looking at you and then looking at the sofa, certain it was big enough for you to get a comfortable night’s sleep.

You glanced at your watch, seeming almost embarrassed when you realised it was only 10pm.

“You don’t have to yet -” you started to protest.

“It’s fine, really,” Bucky told you with a gentle smile.

You gave a couple more weak protests as he went to grab you some pillows and a blanket, but you still got to your feet and helped him set up a little makeshift bed on the sofa for you. He then paused, taking in the sight of you, drowning in his clothes.

“Are you gonna be warm enough?”

At just the mention you seemed to snuggle further into his oversized hoodie.

“I’ll be fine,” you said with a sweet smile before fighting back another yawn. “Thank you, Bucky.”

After some awkward shuffling about, making sure you had everything you needed, telling you to help yourself if you needed another drink, and giving you the TV remote, Bucky finally left you to get some sleep.

He felt awful for making you sleep on the sofa, but there was really no way you would have been comfortable in his room. It was still early, at least by his standards, but he grabbed his sheet and pillow and settled himself on the floor by the window, content to read for a few hours before trying to get some sleep.

He didn’t stir until around 2am a hazy nightmare ripping him from sleep. For a few minutes he sat, trying to calm his racing heart before realising that he needed to use the bathroom, and that was going to mean sneaking past you.

It took ten minutes for him to build up the nerve to try to sneak to the bathroom without disturbing you. Moving slowly, he crept from his bedroom and slowly made his way through the den towards the bathroom, but he couldn’t help but stop and look at your sleeping form. Somehow you seemed even smaller when you were sleeping, tightly curled up on your side, your face hidden somewhere in the hood of his hoodie.

For a few seconds, he lingered, listening to the soft sound of your breathing before starting to feel a little bit creepy, but it was nothing compared to how he felt when he finally reached the bathroom.

Once the door was closed and locked behind him, he was immediately overwhelmed by your sweet scent left on the towel you’d used to dry yourself and the damp clothes you’d left neatly folded on the radiator. He hated himself for the way his cock twitched and the way he lifted the towel to his nose.

Your scent stirred something in him that he hadn’t felt in years, a sort of longing that left him feeling uncertain, fighting against the urge to go to you and -

Fuck.

He didn’t know what he wanted to do. His cock twitched again at the thought of burying his face against your neck and pressing his nose to your gland. A wildly inappropriate thought that had his alpha urges starting to stir, wanting to claim you as his.

That thought made him feel worse; there you were, finally letting your guard down and starting to trust him and all he could think about was how good your tight little body would feel wrapped around his cock...

He felt like he was losing his mind.

It was your scent, the fact he hadn’t been this close to an omega in years and, now, it felt like you were everywhere.

He grimaced as he took a piss, then he started to pace, not wanting to have to sneak back past you when he was at half-mast. But the longer he stayed in the bathroom, the more your sweet omega scent got to him, driving him crazy.

Gritting his teeth, and hating himself more than ever, he reached into his sweatpants and started to stroke his aching cock. His free hand reached for your damp blouse and held it to his face, and he lost himself in thoughts of you. It wasn’t long before he was coming all over his hand, barely biting back his desperate grunts of pleasure, muffling them with your blouse.

Then, finally, he was able to sneak back to his room and spend the night thinking about how much of an asshole he was.

The next morning he got up early, sneaking past the little curled up bundle on the sofa and letting himself out of the apartment. He managed to get your key from the building manager and make it back upstairs before you woke, and you seemed more than happy to get out of there as quickly as possible once you were awake.

You did stop to give him a thank you hug, and Bucky damn near asked you to stay but, thankfully, you didn’t seem to want to linger.

Once you were gone, he went through his apartment, opening all the windows, trying to get rid of your intoxicating smell before heading out for the day.

The next day he came home to find a box in front of his apartment door. On top of it, there was an envelope with his name in large, looping letters, and beneath it was a bundle of clothing. The clothes you had borrowed. Cautiously, he reached for the envelope, opening it to find a thank you card from you. You had signed your name followed by three little x’s.

Opening the box, he realised it was an apple pie from Gracie’s, the sweet smell of sugar and cinnamon filling his nose, but it was the scent coming from the clothes you borrowed that really got to him. His cock twitched just at the thought and had him quickly unlocking the door to his apartment, wanting to get inside and try to get himself under control again.

Over the next few days, he did his best to avoid you, knowing it was best for both of you if he kept his distance, but fate seemed to have other plans.

First it was in the hallway, you leaving for an evening shift at the diner just as he was getting home; you smiled and made small talk, asking how he was and if he’d enjoyed the apple pie. Somehow it ended with him offering to walk you to work and then offering to meet you to walk you home. He insisted despite you telling him that he didn’t have to. The streets of New York late at night just weren’t safe for an unclaimed omega on her own. And, despite his discomfort, he knew he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to you.

He saw the looks he got as he waited outside Gracie’s for you, the smirks and the smiles, and the look of embarrassment that fell over your face when Gracie whispered something to you. But that didn’t stop it becoming a regular thing over the next two weeks.

Then there was laundry night, a night that had been a tactical affair for Bucky for as long as he’d lived in the building; every Wednesday after nine when no one else was around. But there you were, chatting with Nikki from downstairs who’d decided to follow you to catch up with the gossip.

He was about to turn back and slip away unnoticed, until -

“Hey Bucky,” Nikki called out.

He forced a smile to his lips and raised his hand in an awkward wave as he approached, and you gave him that shy little smile that always made his heart beat a little faster. He watched as Nikki’s eyes moved from him to you and back again, a barely suppressed grin tugging at her lips.

“We were just talking about my birthday on Friday,” she told him, giving you a sly little glance, “you should come out with us.”

“I don’t think so,” he shrugged, quickly focusing his attention on getting his laundry in the washer so he could get out of there as quickly as possible.

“Come on Bucky, we need a big scary alpha to make sure the other alpha’s leave mouse alone,” Nikki continued.

If he hadn’t looked at you, he wouldn’t have noticed your sudden discomfort or the way you were chewing the inside of your cheek. Clearly there was more to Nikki’s comment than she was letting on.

“What other alphas?” He asked.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, “it doesn’t matter.”

If Nikki noticed your discomfort, she certainly didn’t let it stop her from explaining; “last week some douchebag alpha spent half the night bothering her.”

“What?” He barely managed to rein in his annoyance, the instinct that told him you were to be protected, that you were some weak and helpless thing.

“Asshole kept asking when her heat was and if she needed company,” Nikki continued.

“He was just drunk, it wasn’t that bad,” you sighed.

“You’re too nice for your own good, mouse,” Nikki told you, shaking her head. “If me and Jade hadn’t been there...”

She didn’t need to say it. It wasn’t a secret how some alphas could be, how some didn’t want to take no for an answer, especially since the blip; so many of them returned to find their omega had moved on with their lives or, some, moved on without their omegas. But, just because the world was a mess, Bucky didn’t think you deserved to have to deal with some prick of an alpha who didn’t respect your boundaries.

You let out a sigh and gave a weak shrug. “Maybe I shouldn’t go if you think it’s gonna cause problems...”

“What? No, that’s now why I’m saying, you have to -”

“I can probably come for a couple of hours,” Bucky offered. He hated how dejected you looked, hated that you felt like you had to miss out on having fun with your friends because you didn’t feel safe.

“Really?” You asked, trying to hold back the smile that was desperate to spread across your face.

“Yeah,” he conceded, “but just for a couple of hours.”

Nikki reached over, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “You’re the best, Bucky.”

Fortunately for him, ten minutes later, the pair of you were done with your laundry and he was left to sit in relative silence with his book, wondering just how much he was going to regret agreeing to go out with you.

(A lot. The answer was a lot.)

He opted to meet you all at the bar about half an hour after everyone got there, managing to slip in unnoticed and take up at the bar, out of the way, but able to keep an eye on things, watching you on the dancefloor. That was why he was there; he was just making sure no one harassed you or tried to ruin your night. But he didn’t stay undiscovered for long.

You smiled as your eyes met his, leaning against the bar, waiting for your drink. He watched, not sure whether to be impressed or concerned as you knocked back a tequila shot and washed it down with a mouthful of beer. Your nose wrinkled at the taste, but he didn’t say anything until you purposefully looked his way again.

“What?” You asked him, noticing how he was watching you.

“What?” He repeated.

You moved closer to his side, your smile widening.

“You were watching me.”

“It’s just - you’re really not what I thought,” he told you, awkwardly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His stomach knotted the moment you started to frown, it was almost enough to make him wince.

“You’re just... you’re not like other omegas,” The moment he said it, Bucky seemed to realise how it sounded. Grimacing, he fumbled over an explanation. “I mean, you’re different from other omegas and tonight you just seem - I don’t know, I just feel like I’m seeing a new side of you.”

Your eyebrow rose and you just stared at him, lost for words.

“I’m sorry,” he tried again, “It’s just been a long time since I -”

“Talked to another human being?” You offered before cracking a smile.

“Yeah, something like that,” he said, giving a little smile of his own and falling silent.

He hoped that the conversation was over and that you’d return to the dancefloor, but you didn’t. Instead you stood right there, carrying on the awkward silence until the song changed and you had a terrible idea.

“D’you maybe wanna come dance?” You offered and he quickly flashed you a look that could only be described as pure fear. He shook his head, watching in horror as you reached for his arm and started to tug. You knew you couldn’t move him, but that didn’t stop you from trying. “C’mon, stop being a party-pooper.”

He let you struggle for a moment, hoping beyond hope that you’d get bored but, when you didn’t, he let out a sigh and knocked back his beer before getting to his feet.

Your grin spread from ear to ear as you tugged him onto the dancefloor, ignoring the fact that his expression was stuck somewhere between amused and terrified. He didn’t dance. In fact, he pretty much just stood there awkwardly until you grabbed his arms and forced some movement into his body, all while biting your lip and trying to stifle your laughter.

After a couple of songs he let you pull him back towards the bar with everyone else for another round of shots, chasing your tequila with beer again. He tried to take the opportunity to slink back to his seat, but the moment he started edging away, your arm wrapped around his, forcing him into the conversation.

When everyone returned to the dancefloor, you pulled him along with you, your hand dropping to hold his and squeezing tighter.

The music got more lively as the night went on and, as the bar started to fill, you found yourself moving closer and closer, until your body was pressed against his.

You barely seemed to notice your proximity to him, but Bucky noticed. His arm moved around your waist, keeping you safe from being jostled by other dancers and making sure the other alphas around knew that you were off-limits. He watched you as you lost yourself in the music and enjoyed the night.

At some point your hand ended you on his chest, and you were close enough that every sway of your hips had you brushing against him. Despite how crowded the room was, all he could smell was your sweet scent.

Every slow, deep breath he took, trying to keep himself in check, made it worse. And, when you leaned against him completely, looking up at him, he almost lost his mind.

“D’you want to get out of here?” You asked him.

The rational part of his mind told him that you meant you wanted to go home; the club was noisy and full, and it was probably wreaking havoc on your sensitive omega senses but, for a moment, he dared to hope that it meant more.

“Sure,” he told you with a smile.

As you made your way outside, he kept his arm around you, helping you navigate the crowd until you were finally outside in the cool night air. You decided to walk home and Bucky was honestly glad of the relative quiet of the New York streets versus the noise of the bar, and he was happy to walk side by side with you, only sparing you the occasional glance and smile.

“What?” You asked when you caught one of those smiles.

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

You nudged him with your elbow. “Tell me.”

“I was just thinking about the first time we met,” he explained, shaking his head, “you were so timid.”

“That was before I got to know you,” you shrugged. “I thought you were just the grumpy alpha who lived across the hall.”

“Grumpy?” He looked at you, offended.

“Very grumpy,” you smiled.

“And now?”

You looked at him, shyly biting your lip and fighting back a smile.

“Still deciding,” you answered playfully.

Bucky held the door open for you as you made your way into your building, grinning and giggling as you both boarded the elevator to the fourth floor.

It wasn’t long before you came to a stop outside of your apartment, and he watched you, waiting for you to open the door and slip inside, wanting to know that you were home safe and sound.

Instead you looked at him for a moment before surging forward and pressing your lips to his. You lingered for a few seconds while he was completely paralysed by shock. When you pulled back, you bit your lip nervously, obviously forcing yourself to maintain eye contact while Bucky came to terms with what you’d just done.

“You’ve been drinking,” he said softly, and it was hard to tell if he was trying to let you down gently, or trying to talk himself out of doing something he might regret.

“Not a lot,” you answered, rising up to press another kiss to the corner of his mouth while your hands gripped his jacket.

“I don’t want to do anything you’ll regret...”

“I won’t regret it. I’ve wanted this for weeks,” you told him, pressing against him and feeling his arm slip around your waist. “Ever since I first caught your scent in the hallway... I thought it was gonna trigger my heat...”

A low rumble sounded in the back of his throat and the arm around your waist pulled tighter.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, this time not bothering to hide the way he was breathing in your sweet scent, the smell that had been haunting him for weeks.

You looked up, your pupils already dilated with arousal, staring at him in a way that had his last shred of control fraying completely. You bit your lip as you nodded, and that was all he needed from you.

Bucky fumbled for his keys, barely loosening his hold on you as he led you into his apartment, turning to kiss you the second the door was shut. He groaned as you whimpered against his lips, eagerly pressing against him, clinging to his jacket as he picked you up and carried you towards his bedroom. The kiss broke and your face pressed against his neck, letting out another little moan as you inhaled his scent.

His arms tightened around you, his alpha instincts desperate to take over, as he sat on the edge of his bed, you on his lap. He kissed you again, groaning against your lips as he felt your hips starting to rock against his. After shrugging out of his jacket and pulling off his gloves, he started to pull open your blouse, his hands trailing over every newly exposed inch of skin.

Your hands tugged at his shirt, urging it up over his head, and his heart almost stopped when he saw the way you were looking at him, drinking in the sight of him. You ran a hand down his chest and over the defined ridges of his abs before reaching the buckle of his belt. Looking up, you held his gaze as you slowly unbuckled him and started to work on the fastening.

Another noise sounded in the back of his throat, something barely restrained, something that wanted, needed. And you didn’t disappoint. Your hand slipped into his jeans and wrapped around his cock, pulling it out so you could start to stroke it. His breath caught when your eyes met his, glassy with need, your omega instincts starting to take control. You kissed him again, desperate and eager, as your hand worked up and down the length of his cock.

You surprised him when you pulled away, when you dropped to your knees in front of him and started to tug his pants and boxers down. Bucky lifted himself, helping you drag them down to his ankles.

He wanted to say something, wanted to tell you how perfect you looked as you looked up at him, as your hand gripped his cock again, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead he reached for you, cupping your cheek tenderly before letting his fingers slip down to your neck to ghost over your mating gland. A soft moan escaped you and there was a palpable spike in your arousal, the whole room seeming to fill with your sweet scent.

Bucky breathed deeply, taking it all in, letting out a groan of his own when he realised there was another scent in the air; the tart scent of your slick.

Before he could even think, you started to nuzzle against his thigh gland, rubbing yourself against him scenting him while also coating yourself in his musk. You were giving yourself to him so completely, and there was nothing more arousing to him.

Your hand started to move again, slipping up and down his cock, causing a pearly glob of precum to form on his tip, and he about damn-near lost his mind when you leaned forward to lick it up. His tip continued to leak as you looked up at him through your lashes and started to take him into your mouth.

The tart smell of slick only seemed to get thicker as you started to suck him, slowly taking more and more of him into your mouth, until he felt himself nudge the back of your throat. Your eyes watered but remained fixed on his, lips pulling back before sinking down again.

It wasn’t until his head dropped back that Bucky realised his mistake.

You moved so suddenly, your lips pulling away from him, your hand reaching for your boot.

He saw the knife just in time to stop it from piercing his chest, his vibranium arm catching your wrist and twisting it.

You struggled against him, jaw clenched, any sign of arousal now completely gone from your face despite the way the smell of it still hung in the air.

“What the fuck?” He demanded, gripping you tight.

You didn’t answer save for letting out a sound of indignation and anger, pure rage on your face as you struggled against him. He wasn’t going to let you go until he got some answers, until he figured out just what the fuck was going on.

But you threw a punch, then another, first catching him on the cheek before getting him square in the nose. It was enough of a distraction to cause him to loosen his grip, and that was all you needed.

Pulling away, you sprinted from his room. He tried to follow after and almost tripped, running and pulling his pants up as he went.

You left his apartment and darted into your own, locking the door behind you.

By the time he’d kicked the door down, you were already halfway down the fire escape. He climbed out of the window, ready to follow, watching as you had to jump down to the street below, falling awkwardly. He started after you but then he stopped, knowing that there was nothing he could do; despite the hour, there were too many people around, and if a sweet little omega like you started screaming about the big scary alpha, no one was going to believe his side of things.

Swearing under his breath, he turned and headed back to his apartment, pulling out his phone. One way or another, he was going to find you and he was going to find out what the fuck was going on.

End Note : anyone new to my fics... sorry for the twist, it's just what I do 😅 So, yeah, this is my first time writing omegaverse and my first time writing Bucky. It's set post Falcon and the Winter Solider and post blip. Will I follow canon strictly? Probably not. Anyway, if you've read this far, thanks so much for checking this out! I don't have a set upload schedule for this fic, but I'm going to try to update it at least once a month.

If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #alpha!bucky barnes #marvel omegaverse #tfatws #devotion ff

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