#alpha beta omega fics

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 

Even he can’t protect you from this. 

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 

You might never get to know. 

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 

You can only imagine how that went. 

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 

“You're tired.” 

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 

All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 

The thought makes you want to cry. 

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 

You need to rectify this, and fast. 

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 

Well, you suppose he is. 

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 

You’re in for a long night. 

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006 @sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164 @mirzamsaiph 

#call of duty #call of duty fic #x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #john price x reader #captain price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gax x reader

[netherfeildren]

Honey, Stomach, Mine ; 3. I Was a Child Once, I'm Not Any Longer

Series Masterlist ; Part 1. ; Part 2.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics; Dystopian Society; Outbreak not Cordyceps AU; Slow Burn; Soft!Dom Joel; Sexual Inexperience; Small booby worship; FLUIDS — like lot’s of fluids forreal omg; Tummy Bulge; Heat Sex; Knotting; Biting; Mating; Blood Mention; Loss of Virginity; Squirting; Pussy Slapping; Breeding Kink; Size Difference; Size Kink; Power Dynamics; Creampie; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Older and Experienced Alpha; Young and Needy Omega; Possessive Behavior; Age Gap

A/N: It's raining here right now and feels really like a perfect morning to post this, I hope you like it.

Word Count: 12.4K

Read on AO3

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3. I Was a Child Once, I'm Not Any Longer

When you make your way into the kitchen a while later – he’d left you with clear instructions of bathroom and teeth, thinking to give you some privacy to adjust to yourself once again after what you’d done together this morning – you’re nothing more than a little omegan mess. Hair a birds nest, his too big t-shirt sliding over one naked shoulder, and worst of all, almost bringing him to his goddamn knees, in the bright morning light shining in through the big bay windows, he can see the glossy mess of your slick smeared all down and along your pretty thighs, almost reaching your knees. 

Jesus fuck, but he’s in trouble. His teeth hurt, his gut aches, his cock – a mind of its own. It’s all starting, and he’s afraid and unprepared and too desperate to put into words. He wants it all now, he realizes, despite his fear, he can’t help himself but want it all. 

You step into the room primly, nose turning up in the air to sniff curiously at the smell of what he’s making you for breakfast, and when your eyes swing around the room to him, shy. Shy as if you’re remembering your modesty only after you’d let him finger your cunt and slicked his cock. The look makes him want to be gentle, a thing he often is not. And when his eyes move further down, something goes soft and shy within him as well: two of his too big socks, mismatched and sagging around your ankles. 

There’s something about you that’s impeccably vulnerable and honest, something he needs to guard fiercely. 

He blinks away, looking back at the cooking sausages he’s got sizzling in the pan. No one had ever cared for you before, not in any real and true way, and he’d received you here with nothing but promises of more uncaring gestures, threats to send you packing. The wrong foot indeed. He’s such an asshole. And he’d not seen to his responsibility properly last night, hadn’t made sure you’d had a rich and filling dinner, left you in bed alone and cold and without him, entirely unequipped for this little life that had suddenly been placed in his hands. But you’d also scared him last night, out on the cliff, more scared than he’d been at the simple notion of you, that of losing you, like with the letter, the bidding pool and the threat of you being given away, there was something wrongly terrifying about it all, the sudden possibility of you not being with him. Scared into want, into wakefulness, perhaps. 

Out of the corner of his eye he watches you tip toe into the living room, making your slow exploration around, to the big window where you pause to watch the outside world for a long moment, palm splayed against the glass as if you could reach out and touch it all, pluck the world into the cup of your hand. Then to the fireplace, bending in half to peer into the hearth and watch the flames pop, the sofa next, where he’d brought out another stack of blankets. You’d start nesting soon, and he needs to make sure you have the things you’ll want. 

He watches as you bring the corner of one of the quilts to your nose, smelling the scent of him that lingers there, rubbing it against your face, and then moving to the stack of his sweaters he’d left beside, you bend to bury your face in the soft, worn wool. His heart thumps and thumps and thumps within him. You pull one blanket first, laying it before the warm hearth in the spot of rug he’d cleared for just this. And then another and another, some pillows on either side, sweaters tucked and stuffed between, starting to build your nest. He’s hard, knot tight and hot and ready, and he has to take a few steadying breaths, force himself to look away and pull the biscuits he’d made from the oven, flipping the gas on the stove off and pulling the eggs and sausages from the heat, grabbing the bowl of oatmeal he’d readied for you as he moves towards the bar. 

“I made you some oatmeal, c’mere,” he calls, voice graveled with strangling want, but he appreciates the look of bright curiosity you swing his way. He’s coming to realize he finds everything about you, everything you do, devastatingly arousing, even just a simple look, the shift of your jaw. He pulses beneath his jeans as you approach, remembering the leak of your cunt against the throb of his cock from earlier and wanting more of it already. 

He hoists you onto the bar stool when you reach him, he’d draped a folded throw over the hard curve so you’d have something soft to sit your sore little cunt on, and turning you to face him, he slots you between his spread thighs on his own stool, close as he can get you. You stretch towards the spread of food, and give a little sniff, scrunching your nose at him in distaste. 

“Don’t gimme that face. Look, whatever you want–” He shows you the eggs and sausages and the oatmeal. He’d wanted to give you options. “I put honey and milk and cinnamon in it. Berries–” He pulls the bowl of blackberries closer. “You’re gonna be a good girl and eat all of it, and I’m gonna sit here and watch you do just that. C’mon, sweet thing, do as I say.” You look at him suspiciously, but with those words, as if your obedience were a foregone conclusion when he asks the right way, you start to eat. Slow little kitten licks and sips from the spoon of honey milked oats, and he has to force himself to turn and not burn you with the intensity of his gaze, piling his own plate high with biscuits and gravy and eggs and sausages, gut roiling with hunger not for food, he forces himself to eat, one palm still gripped at the back of your stool right up against your ass. He needs to feel you, to keep you close, it’s all starting now. 

“Do you eat meat?” He asks, taking a bite of the savory and fatty sausage. You scrunch your nose again, nothing but wide eyes and a bout of sweet timidity now that your greedy cunt had gotten what it needed. “No? You wanna try?” You shake your head no, shrug that bare and tempting shoulder, end on a nod, leaning forward to take a small nibble of the meat from his own fork. Plush blossom mouth opening to slick itself against the metal where his own mouth had just been – his cock leaks. You chew slowly, thinking, come back for more. He pulls you even closer, tugging the stool loudly against the hardwood floor, feeding you from his own plate and hand, watching the shift of your jaw, the bright of your eyes as you enjoy all the food he’s made just for you, until his plate is clear, and he’s so fucking hard he feels faint – all the blood that’s supposed to be in his brain pooling at his groin.

He could feed you forever. He will. 

Picking at the blackberries now, carefully choosing the fattest and shiniest one first, he presents it to you, watching your eyes shift from the berry to his eyes back and forth until you finally decide to humor him, plucking at his wrist with two tiny fingers, only a quarter of him in your grasp to pull him towards you, and opening your mouth so that he can place it on the dip of your tongue. Your mouth purses around it, they're sweet and tangy this time of year, and your nose scrunches again at the sour zing, and you’re so– he can’t help himself. Joel feels like a fucking animal, wholly himself. He yanks you towards him, up into his lap, head wrenched back and fucking eats at you, licking into you, tasting the fruit on your tongue, swallowing it down his own throat along with your spit. It’s disgusting only because it’s not enough, only because he wants more. And you– you respond to him immediately, little warbling song of a different sort of hunger in your throat, hitching higher in his lap, pressing closer, tugging and clawing at him. 

He feels insane. He feels insane. 

It’s a difficult thing to want so much, to be so confronted by the depth of your desire, your nature, to hold it within the palm of your hand as he is now. 

You climb over him, moving to straddle his lap, to rub that needy cunt over his lap, ravenous huffs as you push and pull him this way and that, kissing his face, his ears, his neck, smelling his hair. He has to plant his bare feet wide, steadying himself to hold the two of you upright as you lose control a little bit. It’s almost time, it’s so near. 

He lets you do as you need, grinding against him, marking him with your scent; your inexperience obvious in your desperation. For the life of him, he can’t fathom what his excuse is. 

His hands slide over your knees, “Look’t what you’ve done,” he tuts, passing a ghosting thumb over the skinned little cap, adventure wound from last night, up your thighs, beneath the hem of the t-shrit, no fucking panties, fuck, his fingers slip against your slick covered thighs to grip the meat of your ass, slippery, pulling your ass cheeks apart to feel all that glorious wet sliding everywhere. He needs to calm down, but he pulls you tight against the pulse of his cock, grinds and grinds and pants up into your own open mouth. 

You’re staring down at him now, wide eyed, and your frantic movements slow, hands on either side of his face, fingers clutching at the curls that wrap around his ears. He slides one hand lower to cup your sex, the smooth and bare little palm-full of it, the other sliding up your back, over your shoulder and down your arm to grip and squeeze your wrist tight, your eyes flash, and then he moves to cup your little tit, pinching and twisting the soft puffiness of your nipple, smiling up at your little gasp, and tucks the tip of his index finger inside of you, just a crook of the first knuckle, just to feel you tremble around him. You gasp, oh, and he wants to tie you up in strings and play with you, make you whatever he wants at that moment. Yeah? Just like that? He whispers up at you, and he wants you to give him so many things and everything, and suddenly, the possibilities of him are endless, so much potential to be born from you. He wants to fuck you full and breed you and keep you forever, and he feels insane and finally soothed. 

It’s the rut starting, he knows, and it should be considered a cruelty to want something so much, but you only feel like a gift. 

You sigh a shaky little exhale that makes his stomach clench with how sweet it sounds, lashes fluttering shut at the feel of him breaching you just this little bit. He bends his head to bite at your nipple over the worn cotton of his shirt, keeping his eyes on yours, on the shocked look you’re wearing. He gives one sharp tug with his mouth, and then shoots back up to press one more swift, hard kiss to your open mouth. When he pulls his finger from your leaking hole, he gives your pussy a gentle pat, right on the clit.

“We gotta calm down,” he says slow, can hear the sticky splash of your cunt against his patting fingers. You nod your head, but shift your hips side to side, trying to find friction. “Told you we gotta time it right – take our time. Didn’t I?” But his hand provokes you still, looking up at you with all the wonder of a man coming across something he’d searched for all his life and yet, at the final moment of discovery, is still shocked. 

“You need to eat too,” you say shyly, fingers still twined around his ears, one single tip laid flat against his right gland, applying soft pressure, pulling away, tapping twice, applying pressure again. Your shared want in a clicking language. 

You slide off his lap, back to your own stool, but keep your knees hooked over one of his own thighs, two little feet pressed against the other, fingers still shifting in his hair, petting him while he piles his plate again and digs in. You touch him everywhere you can reach, tugging on his ears, hand smoothing over the muscles in his arms, poking the soft of his belly, gripping his jaw on either side to count his chews, and then palm cupping his throat to feel his swallows.  

He feels suddenly, desperately impatient for the heat to start in full, to spread you wide on the ground and fuck into your slicked, open cunt, to pump it full of his semen and tie you to him with his knot. To own you in a way that only the thing you are and the thing he is would allow. 

You stare at him intently, focused concentration, like you’re reading his mind, brows furrowed and chin tipped. 

“Can I help you?” He crooks a brow at you. 

You shake your head, staring him down, chin to sternum. “No– You eat so much.”

“M’hungry,” he mumbles around a forkful of eggs, desperate to fill that hollow concaved feeling in his gut he knows is ravenous for something other than just food. But you nod solemnly, as if it were a thing of the utmost importance.

“I understand,” you say very seriously, still nodding. 

He swallows, tipping his head to look at you. And he realizes you’re right, in the obvious way of all such designated things, that you do understand him, and perhaps, for reasons other than just that mere designation. And on the tail end of that realization, another: he feels suddenly, starkly, like a victim. A victim in the same way you were, are, would have been, would no longer be. That same white box, that same perilous ledge, both of you trapped between precarious truth and free will. Both of you the same, and sitting here, side by side, now free, as well. Even despite your ties to each other. Of course you understand each other, you’re the same.

“How ‘bout we go down to the beach?” And your eyes go bright as that glowing comet, immediately throwing your arms around his neck and taking a bite at his ear, excited as a puppy. 

Oh, please, please, please, yes. Yes, let’s go, you squeal and strangle him, almost rip his hair out of his head, but it feels good. It makes him feel real. 

-

He’d dressed you in too many stupid, stifling layers, buttoned to the chin. Long thermals beneath your jeans, a sweater, a large puffer jacket, two pairs of socks, ridiculous, scarf wrapped around your throat you’re sure he’d use as a leash to stop you from galloping so far ahead of him across the wet sand if you gave him the chance.  

You want to run naked and reckless and free down the cold, battered shoreline. 

Everything is gray, everything is dark and cold and wet and so very unlike you. But you feel like it all allowed you to shed that blanket of shyness you’d donned at breakfast, after the kiss. All this: vast and endless and huge in a way you’ll never be. It makes you feel, for some reason, very steadfast in your smallness. Like, look how large the world is, look how unending, look how the sea crashes and prepares to strangle anything that would fall into it. What does it matter, my size in the world, my significance, when faced with all this? I might as well just be. 

You turn back to look at where he meanders slowly in the imprinted path of your bootprints, laughter in your throat you can’t help, holding the pail he’d brought down for you to collect treasures out of the sand. The sky is angry, and from this distance, lashed by the wind as he is, he looks as small as you feel. This is comforting; the two of you are the same.

You are the same. 

Standing still, you wait patiently for him to reach you, rolling the laugh like a stone over the surface of your tongue, enjoying the hurt of the saltspray, the biting wind that penetrates all the layers he’d insisted on. Soon there’ll be no part of you left unpierced. 

And when he finally reaches you, he pauses but two steps away, and God, he has eyes like mirrors, staring down at you from his great height, and silently puts the pail out for you to drop the new additions for your hoard, a sparkling shard of blue green sea glass, a two halved clamshell, the inside: a star hued lavender, cream and silver glow. Surely what the flesh of a dream must look like were it to come alive. 

Your thoughts turn suddenly, you spit the laugh out into the world and watch as it jars him, remembering how you’d read once, in all the many things you’d read in your many years of not life, that when a chest is split open during a traumatic emergency, that the procedure of splitting both halves of the sternum and ribs is called a clamshell thoracotomy. The process allows for access to both sides of the thoracic cavity – full exposure. 

And you can’t, for the life of you, explain why the thought comes into your mind now, staring at that little purple dream as you watch it fall from your sand wet fingertips into the pail he holds poised for you, but you’re sure that whatever the connection might be, it lies only with the idea that you’re prepared for him to do the same to you, that you’re ready for anything when it comes to him.  A splitting, a keeping – what more could be done to a creature used to only half measures? Half life, not life, half omega – not mated, full omega – mated. The intricacies of it all no longer matter, only the yes or no. 

“Will you still send me away?” He’d said he’d changed his mind, but you still ask anyways, voice sliding over the screaming of the sea, throwing him off kilter. You want to hear the words. It’ll storm soon, the waves tell of this by the way they throw themselves against the sea stacks. Poor things, you think, nothing but beaten. 

But you’re not like that. Let him say what he will, you feel buoyant and helpless and completely uncaring. 

And he’s very silent for a long moment, chewing on the possible rejection that you’ll spit right back at him if need be. But then: “Don’t you want your own life?” He asks, and his tone makes you pause, the look in his eyes makes you pause for the fear in it all, for the trepidation it’s made up of. You tilt your head at him this way and that, inspecting him very closely, reading him for all he’s worth. You wonder if he realizes how transparent he’s suddenly become to you. All his hurts, faults, strengths, nature, revealed to you with one question. 

Choice.

He’s asking you what you want. 

“Can’t I make a life here with you?” You counter. 

“Wouldn’t you like to see the world as only yourself?”

Further clarity – the marrow of all he is: afraid. 

You go very soft on the inside, all you are in light of all he is. “I already am myself, Joel.” The sea lashes and howls, his name off your tongue does the same. “Can’t you understand that? This is me, this is what I am.”

He frowns so darkly at that, “I do understand, but I–”

And you step to him, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands, size dwarfing you, fear not: “No. You don’t. But it’s okay, I’m going to show you,” and you turn to continue your path along the water, secure in your certainty now that he’ll follow regardless of anything else. 

Joel wants you to have choices. You’d failed to realize this before, you’d seen only his withholding. 

He moves alongside you after a while, after you’ve allowed him a moment of consideration, idling patiently while you dig through the sand, crouching down to hunt for shells and rocks and glass, fingers wriggling deep beneath the freezing cold sand to feel the burn of it. And after a distance longer, and with much bravery, you clasp two of his too big fingers in your sand crusted fist and hold his hand as you walk together, gently leading him down the path you choose, and he’s so grumpy, and you can’t help but be endeared. 

“I think that's the end of the world out there,” you say, pointing to that stopping point where your eyes won’t go any further.

 He looks out at the sea, eyes stopping as far as the world allows, swings back to your face. And you clutch at his arm, pressing your cheek against his bicep, taking in his scent which has deepened and swelled and grown a body within the last hours – the musked cardamom of him – staring out at all that immensity, personification of all you feel for him, this want that is violent and grown teeth, that exists as nature exists. This want that, yes, perhaps you did not choose, but is still what you want, is still what’s right. 

“The sea is so beautiful, and I’m so happy to be here.” No, you don’t want to go out and find another life. You want to find life here. 

You already have. 

When you turn your face up to his again, he’s staring down at you with that strange look from before, but changed now too. Devouring. No one has ever looked at you like this, and you don’t think anyone else besides him ever will. It’s only him, you see, with eyes like mirrors that reflect back your shared sameness. 

“Is that what you came out here for? To find the end of the world? To hide?” You don’t care if you shouldn't ask, you don’t care about any of the things you shouldn’t do, only about what you want in this moment here and now. 

Selfish, selfish, selfish. Yes.

“What does it matter?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “But it does.” It means everything.

He doesn’t respond, only more of that unfathomable look. You don’t care about this either, let him have his silence like a weapon or a punishment. 

“How old are you?” You ask now, realizing that no one had ever told you, that you’d never even cared to ask – bad of you. But not that it would have mattered or made a difference. 

“Too old. Old enough to be your father.” And this makes you angry, sparking angry. Your father – you’d had a father. A stranger father, but still yours. Joel is not that. So, this is anger like Leo’s. Anger at his offhandedness, anger at your own want, despite his words that sit like rust over your skin, anger at the violence of your own want. 

You fight to swallow it, roll your eyes at him. Insist: “How old?” 

“Forty eight.” And he says it like an admission of guilt, which you snort at blithely. 

You flash two held up fingers at him twice, mouthing the words, twenty two. 

His gaze is sad again, and you rub his arm gently, soothing. “I know.” 

And yes, you think, he surely knows so much, but not everything. “I’m not anything else but what I am, you know? What I want to be.”

“Too young–”

You ignore him, voice insistent, “And neither are you.” You turn to face him full on now, taking two steps away so you’re not forced to crane your neck up at him, he cants towards you as if he can’t bear the distance. Nature: he surges toward it hungrily, and just as quickly, surges away. The wind buffets his scent against you, washes you in it. “You can’t make me any of these things you’d thought I’d be. I’m only what I am, and you’re only what you are. Whatever the rest of it is you want to force, or the world wants to force, or the white box says I should be– I don't give a fig for any of that.” You swipe your hand in a cutting gesture through the salted air, and he looks like he might smile first, lands on a flinch instead. “I am not ornamental, Joel.” 

And he flinches again, jarred by his name, but then seems to remember himself, to be reminded of himself by the sound of it, and musters his strength, tightens his seams and says, “‘Nd I’m not here for you to impose yourself on. I’m going to make my own choices.”

“So will I,” you say slowly, and you suddenly want to cry. “So do I. This,” you, “Is my choice because I’m also an omega.” You suck in a tremulous breath. That truth, like a sea between the two of you. You’d thought he’d seen, understood, that he wouldn't have touched you as he had this morning, as no one else ever had, if he didn’t understand the gravity of that. “And if I’m not scared of that, you shouldn't be either.”

He swallows once, twice, devastated mask in place. He looks so forlorn, bearing a weight beyond his years on his shoulders. He turns out to face the water and asks it, “But what about what I want?” Not what he needs.

You close the two steps of distance, pressing against his side, circling his thick wrist in both of your hands, feeling the weight and strength of the bone beneath fevered skin. His sweater is thick, cable knit, soft and worn, a tiny fray at the edge of the sleeve, and a deep navy color, layered over a blue green flannel. No jacket again, he’d donned the colors of the sea instead, but you know now that he isn’t cold. It’s almost time. 

You’d felt so shy after this morning, as you’d walked out to face him in the light of day, sat in his lap and kissed him, newly made, newly minted. Now, you feel as if you know everything you could ever need to know about everything there is to know about you and him. 

“What about what you want? What do you want? Tell me,” you beg. “Say it out loud so we can both hear the truth of it no matter what it costs you.”

“Sweetheart, please,” he begs for mercy, looking down at you again, standing within the confines of your shackle, something further than devastation on his face now. Something like shedding years against your will, going back in time, stepping within a vehicle that would take you to the worst of it all, that point at the end of the world which he already stands on. 

The two of you feel, very much, like two unexploded bombs, existing with great care beside each other. 

The highs of his cheekbones and the tip of his nose are cold reddened, wind lashed, curls damp from the spray of the waves, burning with that dogged nature he fights and fights and fights. And he’s such a part of the world, standing here like this, tall and broad and vital. You want to be like that too, you think, large in a changing way. And he’s strong, strong in a way other creatures aren’t, strong in a way you aren’t. 

But weak in others. 

You release his wrist, forgo the shackle, remain in place. There’s a desperate plea coming from either of you, which though, you’re not entirely sure. 

And then suddenly, and you can’t even be sure from where it comes from because really, if you’re the most honest you can be, you know nothing of this thing. “Have you ever been in love?”

He goes so still that the sea seems to grow more violent in comparison, an offset to his freeze. “Yes. I have.”

“Will you–” swallow your fear, be the brave girl, “Will you ever love me?” You must ask. There’s no other recourse for you in this, you want all of it or nothing.

He bends to you suddenly, getting right in your face, cold nose to cold nose, teeth bared, animal. “I am selfish and jealous and cruel. And I will keep you in a strangle. Do you understand that? Can you even understand what it’ll mean to belong to me? To belong to a thing like this? Yes, I will love you.” So then there’s nothing else to care about. He spins away from you, paces, paces, “I’ve– I… fuck–” fights the dog fight – you wonder how long he’s waged it for, maybe his whole life – turns back to face you, and there’s the look of a boy now too, like Leo, lost and angry and faced with what he is in an insurmountable, unwinnable way. We are what we are, truth impossible to ignore. 

And then finally, fight lost, his face does a funny thing, a strange fracture and decision happening across the canvas of it, all at once. “I used to be a father. I used to have a daughter,” he tells you. 

Entirely unexpected. Entirely terrifying. “Used to?” You take an urgent step toward him, use an urgent tone, the memory of your aunt and of would-be parents flashes in your mind. You don’t want him to say what you know he’s about to say. “Where is she?” You aren’t so naive.

“Sarah,” and he says her name with so much love. “She died.”

You shake your head no, tears swept away with the wind, freezing salted on your lashes. “No,” you say again, louder. 

“When the outbreak happened – in the confusion. We were attacked ‘cause of what I was,” and he shakes his head once, hard and fast as if trying to jostle the confusion out of his mind, or perhaps knock it back into coherence, “Am,” voice limp at the end.

And then he’s the one coming to you, taking you up into his hold, cradling you more gently than the world could ever imagine a thing like him capable of. He finally understands what you are, you can feel it in the way he holds you. “Oh, no, Joel,” you cry into his neck, hugging him to yourself, pulling his head down to rest on your shoulder. “Oh, no. Oh, no.” Your poor alpha. Your poor alpha, he’d been so alone, so hurt and so afraid, and you realize now that you’ll have to be strong for the both of you, that you need to help him in ways only you can, that you need to be strong when he can't. And there’s only sameness here, of the most important sort. Both of you together, equal. When one could not, the other would. 

It’s obvious the way all truths are. 

“If I care for another thing…”

“I understand,” you tell him. It’s obvious the way all truths are: he’s afraid. 

You kiss his face, cup his ears to warm them, bring one of his too big, rough hands to your mouth, pressing your lips to his knuckles, letting him know you’re here now to protect him in the ways he’d never been and had always needed and would never want for again. 

-

He pulls you against himself in a hurt lock, tight enough he lifts you straight off your feet, face buried in your hair, teeth at your neck, biting hard enough you let out a bay of hurt. He can’t explain it, but there is so much care in the words you choose to wield against him, so much wisdom despite the innocent naivety, a clarity about the way you see him and all the rest of the world that sends him into such existential vertigo, makes him want to take a bite out of you so that he might swallow some of that innocence, some of that wisdom down for himself. An honesty about you that gives him no choice but to choose that which he knows he’s always wanted but has never let himself need. 

“I understand,” you’re whispering, letting him savage your throat as he needs. “But everything is going to be okay now–” a moan of pain, “–that we have each other, don’t you see that? We’ll take care of each other.”

He digs his teeth deeper at the fine tendon in your neck, and then slides his tongue up and over your gland, tasting the leak of pheromones there. It’s time now, he can feel it pulse and beat, glowing bright within you. He had been stupid and carelessly blind. He’d been a liar. “I see now – I see. It’s alright, sweetheart. Don’t cry. I’m alright now.” But you wrap your arms around his head, comfort and cradle him, and he has to have you with a desperation that brandishes teeth and boils. 

He shoves you back by your hips, keeping his grip on you steady, and turns to push you back down the beach the way in which you’d come. “Home. Now.” But you push back against him, rubbing your ass against the heft of his cock, presenting him with that cunt that belongs to him. 

“No. Here.” It’s a demand, you have an instinct for this. 

“Absolutely not,” but he’s gripping your hips hard enough to bruise anyways, grinding against you, tension vibrating his too big body, as if he were actually considering it, taking you here and now. 

Please.

“You’d let me knot you right here on the beach with the whole ocean and God watchin’?”

“Yes. Yes, I don’t care.” You try and turn in his arms, head craning back, hungry mouth seeking his own lips.

The insanity of the fever. Now, omega, he rumbles, and there’s no mistake in the burr of his tone, his nature on display, loud and clear – an alpha ordering his omega back to her nest so that he might have her there. He shoves you forward gently, setting you on your way, and picks up your pail full of treasures to stalk after his own. He takes in the sparkle of seaspray like gems in your hair as he follows, the shiver of your frame beneath the too many ridiculous layers he’d forced you into, the stumbling of your feet as you turn back to spy him hunting after you.  There’s wet on your face, and he doesn’t know if it’s the salt of your tears or the salt of the sea, and he wonders if when he drags his tongue across it he’ll be able to tell the difference. He’s sure he will. 

Your scent like a leash leads him, stronger and fuller and warm enough to burn. His gut is tight and aching, cock so hard he feels he can barely stand up straight. He’s sure he can smell the pouring of your slick from your finally readied cunt, the bloom of it obvious in the air around you, juniper berries everywhere – something warmer, spiced vanilla, earth. It’s so good he wants to swallow it down like liquid, drink from your well. 

He follows and follows, and if you weren’t already at the end of the world, he’d follow you there too. Up the stone steps etched into the cliffside, the steep incline sending you to huff and puff in strain. He’d feed you more, make you strong, feed you his cock and fill your belly with his come like honey. His breaths are bullish, bursting out in white clouds of steam, his neck hot and damp, skin boiling beneath his clothes. 

You keep turning back nervously, your left hand stretching back as if to reach for him, and then speeding up again in agitation, going as fast as your much shorter legs can take you compared to his. But he measures himself, lets you get there in your own moment, and eventually, he’s pushing open the cabin’s front door and shoving you inside, forgetting to measure his strength, lost in his delirium as he is, so that you’re stumbling, being snapped back like a rubber band with his fist wrapped in the back of your jacket. 

He rips it down your arms, uncoils the scarf, pulls the sweater over your head, hair a mess, all disoriented and malleable, and yanks you back and into his chest, heaving you up into his arms so that he can clamp his teeth at your throat again, laving his tongue over your gland, slicking you in his spit, sucking hard at the patch of skin, the burst of flavor on his tongue now, bubbling, carbonated almost, so strong his knees buckle and his cock is surely leaking a stream of precum down his leg. So fucking sweet, he’s growling, murmuring like a madman, grinding his erection into the lush of your ass, fingers sneaking under your shirt to squeeze hard and tight at your little tits. Your belly is a ball of embering fire, like you’d swallowed a comet, and he presses down on it gently, hand low on your pelvis over where your little womb is, this place he’s about to fuck full of his spend. 

“The way you smell – your scent – I’ll go fucking crazy, I swear I will.” His voice sounds not his – coming from some source outside of his body, ringing hollowly in his head empty of everything else except you. 

It’s started, it’s started, it’s started. 

You’re full of glorious heat, and he soothes at the soft swell of your belly with gentle circles, hand sliding down to cup the little palm-full of your cunt, rubbing back and forth over your jeans, and then goes to his knees behind you, pawing at the button, ripping them down your legs along with the leggings he’d forced you into beneath them, panties and all; the popping of seams – his or the clothes he can’t be sure. He traps you in the tangle, leaving them around your ankles, boots still on and takes a too sharp, too aggressive bite of your ass cheek, leaving teeth marks, leaving Joel marks, enjoys the sound of your baying that ends on a shocked little squeak, a little ah, ah, ah. He grips your asscheeks too tightly and spreads them wide, watching the delicious little wink of your holes provoking him, and licks the broad flat of his tongue from cunt to asshole, finally, fucking finally tasting you. 

He’s entirely lost to his madness from that moment forward.

He licks your ass again, again, pushes you forward to deepen the arch of your spine to eat at you better, and you mewl, whine, Joel, I’ll fall, but he can’t find it in himself to care. “Fall,” he tells you, “I’ll catch you.” But he spins you in his hands, fast and stumbling, trapped as you are, to face him on his knees before you as he is, as he should be, and you’re so small, morsel sized, perfect for swallowing whole, and open mouthed, he inhales at the mound of your cunt, tongue swiping out to find your clit swollen already. 

You smell like nothing he can describe, too delicious to allow him the choice of clear thought. He pulls you down to the ground, rips your boots and pants the rest of the way off, and right there on the floor by the front door, he spreads your legs wide and eats your cunt. 

Eats it. 

Nothing gentle or restrained about it as he probably should, this being your first time a man licks your pussy, small and innocent as it is, he fucks his tongue inside your shaky hole, sucks hard and sharp on yor clit, your first orgasm, sensitive as you are, trembling through you already. More, more, more, he wants more. He hunches over you like the beast he is, tiny thing, pulls you up, palm cupping your bottom, one knee knocking against his ear, the other leg splayed wide, sliding down his arm, so he can suck, suck, lick at your clit, a gentle kiss as a prize for taking it so well, and then his tongue is back into your cunt to taste the river of slick you’re spilling just for him. Your flavor, so musk heavy, sweet and thick like honey; he feels full and set to burst, no more hollow pit. And he wants more, to gorge and gorge like a glutton. You come again, a splash against his tongue, so wet you’re slipping and sliding in his grip. He can hear your high pitched cries and whines, your Joel, Joel, Joel’s he shushes, soothes with his tongue, little kiss to your little clit that pulses against his mouth. 

“Y’taste so fuckin’ good, baby.” He lets you down, crawling over you, pushing your shirt up to get at your tits, sucking and biting hard enough to hurt. He wants you to feel it all for days after the heat’s over, to leave marks, to make sure he’s left in your skin forever. Forcing your jaw wide, he slicks his tongue along yours, feeds you the taste of your own cunt, salty, sweet, his, and you take it so well, half limp and yet still clinging to him weakly, two orgasms forced on your virgin pussy back to back. 

He scoops you up, belly to belly, spider limbs around his neck and waist, grabby hands yanking at his hair like you’re angry he’s not put you on his knot yet. His knees pop, his back aches something fierce as he heaves the two of you up, muscles in his thighs bulging to support you – he’s fucking old – and walks you over to your nest, setting you down on your back, spreading your knees wide, cunt ripe and blooming, so red, a wound of all the world says you’re meant to be.

Slicking his thumb over the soaked curve of it there’s a sticky string of omega drool that leaves him connected to you when he pulls back. He presses again at your swollen clit, thinks he can almost see the pulse of your rushing blood beat here at your spread cunt, slides down to the tiny winking hole and circles his finger there, giving you the slightest pressure, pressing in a tiny bit, up again to tease your clit. 

“I’m gonna fuck this soft little hole until it’s so full of my come I don’t fit inside no more. Would you like that, sweet baby?” He asks so gently, don’t spook the fawn, don’t spook the beast. 

Your eyes are fevered, face covered in a shine of sweat, your belly glows with heat, and you nod slowly, little smile playing tricks with him whispering across your face. His hands slide up, circle your waist, squeeze and squeeze and squeeze as if he could watch you burst, witness all that heat explode like a comet, then further up to your chest, two big hands covering two little tits.

“You’re so pretty, little omega.” And you preen, you glow, suffused with such vulnerable, honest pleasure. Joel has to be so careful, he has to be so good for you. He will be. You circle one of his wrists, tender little hand, fingers of vapor, he has to be so good for you, he has to be so careful. Again, remember, remember. He bends to press a soft kiss to the pretty tip of each nipple. 

“They’re too small,” you whisper in an even smaller voice. 

“No. No, baby, no.” He presses another kiss, drags his teeth over a peak, sucks on the other, switching back and forth. “They’re fucking perfect, so pretty and so soft. I love them– I’m fuckin’ obsessed with you.” He opens his jaw wide and takes the whole soft mound of it into his mouth, sucking on the whole thing of it. He probably shouldn’t say such things, he doesn’t give a fuck. “Look–” he says around the little globe, “Whole thing fits in my mouth.” He bites some more, kisses some more, sucks on them until you’re whining and pushing him away, until they’re sore and stinging and still he doesn't stop. He shows you just how obsessed he is.

He kisses you all over, your belly, your waist, the soft spot beneath your ribs, your thighs, and the pulse between your collarbones. Slow, slow. He has to be slow and gentle and patient for as long as his looming rut allows, he needs to ease you into this. Taking an ankle first in one hand, he presses a kiss to the gland just there on the inside of it, suckles a little, then the other, and watches as your cunt becomes more and more needy and swollen, red as a bloom, until you’re so desperate for it you’re writhing around wantonly in the nest of blankets, almost entirely lost to your fevered delirium, but not just yet, not just yet. 

“Will you– will you put your big thing inside me now?” You slur innocently.

And he laughs gently, a tenderness pinching his heart which if he was less lost to himself, he might cry for. “My big thing?”

Oh, please. “Please, I– I think– please, I think I really need it now.” You twist this way and that, pulling the blankets up to your face to hide yourself away. 

“Almost, sweetheart. Almost.” But he feeds you two of his fingers then, playing in your slick, the sticky wound of softness, and crooks his fingers to wedge them just inside of you. “Like that– oh, isn’t that nice?” He croons, pressing a little further in, feeling the stretch of you around him. Your eyes go wide and shocked, your back arching in a taught curve, hips opening for him to sink deeper until he’s palm to cunt. He leans over you, watching the place where his hand disappears inside and hooks his fingers, petting at the textured little place at the front of you, so, so sensitive. You keen loudly, a warbled sound that’s all fucking his. His control is so close to snapping. 

He pulls his fingers from your cunt suddenly, watches how it shudders while you screech at the loss, looking up to search for him with bleary eyes as he rips his shirt and sweater up over his head, and then he’s pressing his two fingers back inside, thrusting into you a little harder, the splash and slap of your cunt as he fucks in and out of your tight hole. “Perfect little thing that's all mine.” He has nothing but praise for you, his good girl, taking him so well. 

He pets and pets at that soft spot, molten heat pouring from your cunt, and when he starts to shake his hand, a little jiggle to knock your next orgasm loose inside of you, you give it up so, so nicely. Pussy going tight as a fucking fist, strangling his fingers, and then spilling loose and soaked, flooding his hand. When the contractions of your little womb have abated he stuffs a third finger in, forgoes some of that gentleness, and pressing a hand low on your pelvis, he shakes his hand hard and fast inside of you. “Want’cha to fuckin’ soak me,” he grits through clenched teeth, head slightly dizzy, slightly faint with want. And with pressure both from the inside and out, you do. Gush of come following your high pitched moan, tears soaking your hairline as much as your pussy just soaked the lap of his jeans. He pulls his fingers from your gaping hole, bends to lick through all that glorious omega slick and swipes his fingers through it from side to side, tapping on your clit harshly, slapping it a little, sucking on it again, fast, fast his fingers from side to side, forcing you into just one more little climax before he lets you rest. 

You’re all twisted in the blankets, face turned and buried in the pillows. He crawls up over you, contorted as you are, cunt splayed wide and pulsing, and unbuttons his jeans as he goes, finally, fucking finally letting his raging cock free. It hurts, it needs you so fucking badly, leaving a sloppy trail of drool slicked along the already wet curve of your belly as it drags heavily against you, bobbing obscenely from his open zipper. He buries his face in your neck, kissing and licking up the taste of you, sucking on your gland. 

“Please, please now. Please, now,” you keep mumbling into the blankets where you’re hiding. Please, now. Begging for his cock and his knot, so ready to take your first fucking like the perfect omega you are. 

“Not yet,” he soothes, petting your hair back from your steaming face, pressing a kiss to your sweaty hairline. Please, you whine high, and he lets his cock rest heavily against the curve of your red cunt, slicking it there, dragging it back and forth, giving you both the weight of what you’ll have so soon. You kick one leg out weakly. “Not yet, it’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart,” he pitches his voice low, soothing, gathers you to himself. “Let’s rest a little. No, no – just for a little bit,” he says over your whines and cries. You cling to him weakly, hips rocking against him. “I know, baby. I know,” he hums, letting you rub your sticky, sore cunt against the wide head of his cock, nothing but a boneless little mass of omega, stuck to him with tears and slick and sweat. 

He rolls over with you on top of him, the brand of your cunt enveloping his erection between swollen lips, and his knot is ready to pop, it fucking hurts, his rut is near too. But he can tell you just need a little more time – a few more hours to soften and ripen just that little bit more, to lose yourself a little bit more so that he might fit himself inside of you, his too big body in your too little one. 

He gets up eventually, shucking his jeans, and getting a glass of water to force you to take, and leaves the large, cold glass near for when you’ll need it again with all the slick you’re producing. So much that it runs down your thighs, slides up your back and all over him and the blankets and everywhere; everything sticky and heady with your scent. This is, he thinks, right before he succumbs to sleep too, head and balls throbbing from not having come yet, the most singular way an omega claims ownership over an alpha. That scent like a shackle that would keep them together at all times, that scent that after long enough, is impossible to be without. He buries his face in your hair and breathes deep, letting your smell move through him like a tangible thing, a kaleidoscope through his mind until he finally falls asleep. 

-

Your hips move in a slow rocking swing over his belly, slicking the curve of it, making the hair covering him here clump sticky and soaked in this stuff that will not stop coming out of you. There’s so much, and you feel so empty, your head, your head is full of nothing but heat and bubbles and a throb that glows, and you don’t know why, but– oh, finally, he’s waking up. Yes, yes, alpha, wake up now. 

He shifts and rumbles deep in his chest, and you feel his big thing poke you in the butt; it’s so heavy and so thick and it smells so good. You’d sniffed it, and you’d tasted it a little too when you’d first woken up, but you need to make sure to remember to taste it more later again because it had been so yummy, and long too. You can’t understand how it’ll fit, but you’re sure you’ll make it somehow. And it has a funny soft bit of skin at the end, and thick veins that pulse under the warm, incredible softness that covers it. 

His left arm stretches out and over his head, he’s thick here too, big muscles under his skin that’s so burning hot it hurts to touch and feels good all at the same time. He has a dark vein that runs from his shoulder over the bulging muscle, and you’d tasted that too, then pressed your face into his hairy armpit to sniff him there also; gone all drunk and light headed at the scent.  You rock harder; the little nub at the front of your cunt – it belongs to him – it hurts and it’s swollen and when you press your fingers to it, it has a little tiny heartbeat that you’re sure beats to the sound of his name, Joel, alpha, Joel, alpha, and everything is so, so hot. 

You whine that sound you know he likes, the one that you know provokes him, rubbing your slippery cunt all over his stomach, grinding and sliding against him, trying to make the throb go deep and hard again like he’d made you do with his mouth. And oh, he’s so– he makes you so upset, and you feel big and little all at once, and that stretched soreness of your cunt, it’s all his fault, and the bruising around your nipples too, and he needs to put it inside. 

He stretches again, blinks open slowly, long lashes, dimple beside the corner of his mouth, and you dig your nails into the hard muscles of his chest, dragging your blunt edged fingernails down his skin as you slide lower, over his big cock – that’s what it’s called, and you love the sound of the word, think it sounds how you imagine it’ll feel, cock – and try to put it inside, shifting and rolling over it, trying to impale yourself on it. It’s so heavy, and you know the heaviness will make the hurt inside you, the bruised feeling inside you, go away, if only he’d just do it. 

You huff at him, cry a little, whine a lot, try and make it go inside again, slipping and sliding in all the slick that won’t stop coming out of you all while he blinks slow and patient at you, a little smile on his face, and he’s so pretty he makes you so, so upset. You bend forward suddenly and bite his nipple hard, yank on the hairs on his chest and thighs. Hard enough to hurt. He grunts, but lets you, only twinning his fingers in your hair tightly, letting you chew on him until you’ve released his skin on your own. 

“You upset with me ‘cause I haven’t fucked you yet? You gettin’ impatient with me?” You huff at him. “Think you’re ready, sweet thing?” Oh, please, please, please. 

You know that you’ve never been more ready for anything in your entire life. 

He rolls you over, spreading you wide to play with your cunt again, and you start crying for real. “It hurts, alpha, please. It hurts, and I glow.'' It's so hot everywhere. 

“You’re full in your heat now, baby. Don’t worry – knot’s gonna make you feel all better. You’re gonna be so full.” And his voice is so soft and deep and hard too, all at once. It floats away and it comes back, and he sounds like all the things and all the sounds that can have ever existed in the whole world, and also, just right enough to let you remember, only for a second, very calmly and in a moment of bright clarity, that you’d always known he’d come to fix it all. This is only the last part of that at last. 

“My brave girl,” and he pauses a beat above you, between your spread thighs, his cock hanging heavy, tip-slicked between his thighs, giving you a sticky kiss every time it bobs against your tummy. He drags the pad of his thumb at the hollow beneath your eye, catching fallen salt water there, only of desire, not the sad sort, you know the difference so very well by now. And his own eyes, they’re so dark, so full of all that heat that’s so chock full inside you too, but also different, something like cool and serene and full of knowing, full of patience. Eyes like mirrors. The two of you are the same. 

He wraps his big hand around his ever bigger cock, and smears the tip against your swollen, needy sex, pressing hard at the aching nub, sliding down and pressing hard at the bruised little hole. You growl an impatient quipping noise at him, but he returns it in kind, deeper, scarier, full of an order to settle. 

“We have to go slow,” he says, “It won’t fit just like that.”

But you rock your hips in hitching jerks anyways. “No, I’ll make it fit,” you promise, clawing at his chest to achor yourself, find the right angle, find relief. 

He shakes his head, continues to smear and press against you, and then oh, oh, oh, he’s just there, first a big stretch like from the morning, and it hurts, it burns, but not as bad as being without, and you make a sound like you’ve never made before, feeling a feeling you’ve never felt before and had waited your whole life and a year for. Inside, please, please, inside, alpha. He feeds you himself, makes the heat brighter, fans the flames and soothes them all at once, and oh, it really does hurt and feel so good. 

He’s panting like a bull above you, sweating and groaning, and the sounds he makes, the sounds he makes, rough and wounded, like you’re wounding him, like you have the power to wound a great thing like him. “Ain’t that so fucking good?” He coos and croons and pets at you, feeds you and feeds you and feeds you. It’s so big and it splits you, cleaves you wide and forces you into the place and thing you’d lived your whole life waiting to be. “Look at my girl,” he’s saying, “Look how well my little girl takes my big cock in her tiny cunt.”

He pushes a little more, touches a thing inside of you that is swollen and bruised and so sensitive, and, “Oh, you’re in my belly,” you gasp when he finally stops pushing in. You cup your hand over your tummy, pressing down. “I can feel you,” there are tears slipping form the corners of your eyes, and your cunt feels so full it’ll burst or swallow him whole or a little of both, “I can feel you from outside.” You press down harder, rub over the bulge of him inside you; a cock in your belly under your palm. 

So good, just like that, he’s murmuring and you close your eyes to better listen to the dip and hum of his voice. “I am. I am – gonna fill your little womb. And we’re gonna do it just like this for now,” he starts to move, “Just half so you’ll let me in all the way.”

“There’s so much,” you hitch, breath quivering, chin trembling, tears leaking, cunt leaking even more. 

I know, I know, he rubs your belly, soothes you so well, rocks and rocks and rocks, a cock rocking inside of you. He kisses your jaw and your shoulder and your breast, and then changes something, and you finally open your eyes. He touches something so raw inside of you, something that screams and sings and throbs, and there’s something going swollen inside. He’s so beautiful, silver streaked, creased, lines over his forehead, alongside his eyes, his whole life painted in roadmaps and metallic patterns across him. Other places slicked and wet, red and flushed and sun touched, and you make him look like this, and then he presses the swollen thing again, and it bursts. Your cunt flutters, goes so tight it hurts, forces more tears out of your eyes, you claw at him, your body feels not your own, only his. Oh, fuck yes. Good girl. Fucking come for me. For him, for him, for him. 

You shiver and shiver, there’s only hot air and the rocking cock in your belly, the heartbeat inside of you everywhere, and when he finally presses once more, finds the end of the world inside you, he’s all the way in, making a sound that you’ll have to force out of him for the rest of forever; a perfect sound. He tugs you up onto his thighs, sits up, belly to belly and heart to heart and glow to glow, and he fucks you like he said he would. Hard. You finally understand what it means. His cock punches the bruised thing that lives inside, that has you keening a wounded sort of noise, clawing at him, mouth searching for his gland, sliding across his clavicle, up his neck until it’s there, swollen and throbbing and it tastes so, so good you can’t help it when you sink your teeth into the softness of it, the salted rust of his blood sliding over your tongue, down your throat and into your belly like a promise. He makes that glorious sound again, and he fucks you so rough it hurts in only the way fucking a man so much larger than you can hurt. He splits your cunt wide and ruts into you like a beast, and you take it because you want it, because you were made for it, because it’s so right. And you suck on the pierced gland, swallow the taste of him and when a pressure worse than what you could have ever imagined starts to swell within your battered and bruised opening, he pulses and pulses and spills inside of you, filling your womb like he’d said he was going to also. 

Then there is his knot, finally, within you. “Again, baby. Come on my knot, sweetheart. You’ll feel so much better if you do.” And he’s right, as you shiver into it once more with only his command to prompt you, his knot swollen like a lock, connecting you together, it soothes the bruise and the heat from the inside out. He rips your teeth from his neck by your hair, swallows your protests, tasting his own blood on your tongue as he comes inside of you, fills you with a heat more potent than anything the glow had ever made you feel. 

When you fall together like felled weeds, knot tugging gently, mewl falling from your lips, he soothes you so patiently while he continues to spill inside of you, all plugged up as you are, belly set to burst full of semen. He suckles at your nipples, bites and pinches and makes them hurt, and you can do nothing but let him do as he pleases. And you don’t sleep this time, for the throbbing is so strong inside of you, his soft groans sometimes turned to whimpers so wonderful you need to be awake to listen to them forever.

 There’s nothing of the not life anymore, there’s only him here with you. 

He does sleep though, after a while, or he goes very still and very quiet. His lashes quiver and his eyes move beneath their lids as if he were watching a dream, and his body steams and shudders, but eventually, the knot softens enough that you can shift and wiggle over him, and his eyes flash open, predator gaze zeroing on the little omega trying to leave her trap, he presses a big hand down on your tailbone, grinding your cunt that feels raw and full and bruised and right against his pelvic bone. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” Voice a deep burr. 

You give him a shy, appeasing look, nuzzling his belly, his thick pectoral and shift and shimmy up towards his face, feeling the heavy weight of him fall wetly from your bruised sex. It stings and flutters madly, clenching around the too large space he’d made inside you. Shuffling up on your knees, you peck at his chin, his mouth, suck on his lip. And when you look down between the two of you, there’s a puddle of thick white semen slowly drooling from between your legs onto his belly. 

You shuffle down now, licking up the mixture of slick and sweat and come, tasting the crease between his thigh and pelvis. You move lower, and resting your head on his thigh, you mouth at his cock, wet and slobbering, pressing a kiss, tasting the flavor of your cunt. 

“I feel so lovely,” you sigh dreamily, pressing another kiss.

He groans low, “A little more tongue– there you go. Oh, fuck– omega, that’s so good.” He threads his fingers through your hair. “It’s because you’re full of everything I just gave you. You’ll need more soon.”

You open your mouth wider, try to swallow him down, enjoying how his come slips out of you, making the tops of your thighs, your ankles you’re sitting on, all sticky wet. All mine, you mumble around his thick length, and his answering laugh is so vital, oh, everything really is so wonderful. He tugs you up by the roots of your hair, jaw hanging wide and spit slick so he can stick two big fingers in there and rub at the slimy surface of your tongue, grunts a hungry sound. 

-

He pushes you back, hand still fisted in your hair to spread you wide and inspect the wreckage he’d left between your thighs. “Lemme see–” he murmurs. “Look at how red and swollen you are, baby. Little cunt’s all fucked open.” He gently scoops his come back inside, smearing it along your cunt. 

Ah– Ah– You protest when he presses his fingers inside to feel the slip of his semen along your walls. Poor, baby, he coos. His cock stirs at your little sounds of hurt, soaked as it is, streaked with come and slick and a little pink tinge of blood. The sight makes him fully hard again. “You did so well, first time taking a knot. It’ll be easier next one.” You writhe and arch as he pets your cunt, spreading your legs wider despite your limp sounds of protest. Head rolling back against the blankets, you grip your tits in both hands and squeeze, whimpering at that too. 

When you lift your head to look down at them, lifting the two little handfuls in your palms to take in the sight of your chafed, swollen nipples your eyes go wide. “Look’t what you did to them – they hurt now.” And although he’s sure you intend to sound like you’re cross, the moan you end on, the way you’ve begun to rock your hips, tells of different things. 

“My poor girl, lemme kiss ‘em.” He stretches over you, taking your hands away to press a barely there kiss to the tip of each breast. “Poor little tits – poor little pussy too, all split open.” And he bends to kiss your blood tinged cunt, the flavor of lost innocence and come on his lips. 

He kisses you again, nibbles on your thighs, and your eyes are hazy, fever full, and you sigh a fluttering sound of oh, “Everything’s so lovely,” you say again. “And you’re so beautiful, alpha. We should eat green apples. I love green apples so much.” Delirious, a little nonsensical. 

“We will. We will– whatever you want,” he says, but he’s already mounting you again, wedging his fat cock into your tiny, battered hole, enjoying the sound of your half pleasure, half pained keen. And he doesn’t give you the grace of going slow, the rut is full on now – he fucks you into your nest hard, fucks against your womb until he’s filling it again. Only gentles once when you mumble into his ear, slurred and almost drooling, I want to watch it go in and out of me.

And despite his ferocity, the way he uses and abuses your cunt, he knows you need it from the way you open that little blossom mouth and try to swallow him whole, hungry thing. You yank at his beard and pull on his hair and scratch at his skin, bite his gland again and again, and he shocks himself by being nothing like afraid, nothing like uncertain. No, he only feels settled now. Joel only feels himself. 

He realizes that he had always needed this, but now, he wants it too. The distinction is stark and important beyond measure like some sort of primordial state of consciousness. He is only himself, dog fight lost and left victorious for it. 

You pass the days of your heat and his rut locked on his swollen knot, a steady stream of his come being pumped into you constantly. There’s no way he hasn’t bred you by now, and it makes something pleased and terrifyingly savage swell within him. 

He’s forced to shove an ice pack between your legs on the third day, between bouts on his knot, during a moment of clarity for the both of you while he feeds and waters you. But then later, after he’s given you one of the strawberry cream popsicles he’d made and frozen for you the day before you’d arrived, you sit, swollen cock buried deep, slowly rocking back and forth while he watches with an almost sick sort of rapt fascination as you eat the popsicle in little kitten licks, leaning back on his lap ever so often to bare your cunt to his gaze, slick and split wide, red as the strawberries in your sweet treat. 

“How is it?” He doesn’t specify which, the popsicle or the cock rocking inside of you, but you peer at him with the brightest and keenest sort of gaze, a look that tells him all he needs to know about himself, all that you see within him which is everything. You flash him a huge, cheesy grin, all the answer he’s getting, and you’ve got a tiny gap between your two front teeth that he finds so, so endearing, and his answering laugh is so vital, so alive, it’s like he steps into himself again after twelve years of vacancy. 

And with that bright light of clarity, a blink, blink, you seem to come fully awake for a moment. “Tell me of the things you like,” you order, taking a large bite of the iced treat and pressing your cold mouth to his, passing the flavor of strawberries onto his tongue.

He takes the moment and tastes it, pulls you close, “I like how the fire plays over your skin,” a palm ghosting down the slope of your naked back to the place where you’re connected. “How it makes shadows and shows me that glow inside.”

And as the fever fades, he switches to handling you with carefulness, gently stroking at your sensitive, come-filled pussy, careful of the stretched soreness of your little hole and the bruising around your nipples. With more awareness you remind him that he’s a big, stupid alpha with a big, stupid knot and that you hurt and want more.

But there’s still time and heat to take advantage of, and on the day he knows will be the last day of this animal lust, he stretches you out flat on your belly, his weight completely over your back, and he fucks you prone and immobilized, caged in by his bulging arms, telling you of how you own him now, how he belongs to you, how he’s going to keep you full and happy forever. “Make me come. Clench – good girl. Again,” he orders, and when his knot swells for what he knows will be the last time of this rut, relishing in the last whispers of your heat filled belly, he sniffs through the curtain of your hair and finding the still swollen gland at the nape of your neck, he slowly sinks his teeth into the vulnerable patch, binding your mating. 

-

Dawn peeks over the horizon like a faint suggestion, and you’re married on the cliffside one bitingly cold winter morning, the sea as your witness. Ellie and Dina are there, and they’re your friends now. You have friends, real friends, no more half life, no more half friend.You have friends, and you are important and significant and as vital and alive as Joel is. You’re real, and he helped make you so, yes, but really, you always had been. 

You wear flowers in your hair and a dress the color of the sky, and he has mirrors in his eyes, and the two of you are the same. Equal and only yourselves, and you love each other more than anything in only a very true way, nothing soft about it. 

When you know you’ll have a baby, he swallows your fear and your worry, marks your gland again as a reminder of all he is, all you are. And when you ask, for you can’t not share with him, “Will they come one day, to check if we did what we were supposed to? To see if we had a baby?”

He tells you, “Yes, they might,” very solemnly.

“What if–” a difficult thing to say out loud, now that you understand the thing you are and the way of the world so well, now that he’s shown you all there is to be shown, “What if they’re an omega like me – will they take them?” Give them their own white box and a not life to be nurtured by instead of a mother. 

But like all obvious things, he shares with you, always, only truths. “Never.” And the look in his eyes is so serious, eyes like mirrors, that you know his words are fact. “I’d never let that happen, I swear to you.” 

And the glow still comes, and the heat still takes you, but he’s always there now and nature is still an inescapable thing, but the perilous edge is no longer such a danger when you’re protecting each other. 

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#HSM fic #vic fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us AU #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You are settling in to living in a new country. Your Alpha wants to show you how important you are to him.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI (no others for this chapter)

Word count: 3.4k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there.

A/n: Oh my GOD. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! I can't believe the amount of love this fic is getting. I just had to write another chapter for you guys asap. I have a taglist so comment if you'd like to join it.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Two:

You sigh as you take in the barren state of your room. All that was left was boxes and your suitcases. Your mom is going to send the rest of your belongings after you arrive in Amsterdam. You were sad to leave your childhood home and your parents but, excited to see what the future holds. Especially now that you have a very sweet Alpha taking care of you. As much as you hate to admit it, your inner Omega has longed for this day. You still couldn't shake the nerves of moving to a completely different country. The AOMO assisted you with your visa which was easy to get approved for. Countries were more lenient with citizenship when it came to obtaining a mate. You haven't seen König in about a week. He went back to Amsterdam to prepare for your arrival. A knock sounded at your door before it opened. 

“You ready?” Your Dad asked, moving to grab your suitcases for you. 

“Yeah.” You followed him out of the room.

Your Mother was standing near the door, her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill. You went over and hugged her. 

“My baby girl, moving out. I'm gonna miss you.” 

“I'll come visit, don't worry.”

“You better.” Your dad called an Uber to get to the airport.

The drive was silent besides the quiet radio in the background. The airport was busy. This was your first time flying by yourself, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. You gave your mother and father one last hug before to went to check your bags. Your mother shed a tear and adjusted your protection collar again, urging you to be safe. You bid them goodbye and headed to check your bags and go through security. Once you made it to your gate your phone vibrated. You didn't recognize the number. 

'Hello liebe, It is König. Kara has given me your number.'

'I am not used to texting, I text no one. Are you at the plane?'

Your heart jumped with excitement hearing from him. 

'Hi König, I am at my gate. It boards in about an hour I think.'

'Wonderful, I will be waiting for you when you arrive.' 

'See you then.'

You suppressed a squeal as you put your phone away. Your inner Omega was getting a little out of hand with her feelings about him. You felt like a middle schooler with a crush. You distracted yourself by using the bathroom and buying some expensive airport snacks to tide you over on the ride. It was a seven-hour overnight flight set to arrive at eleven am Netherlands time. Once you boarded the plane you got comfortable for the long flight. You brought a blanket from home and a neck pillow. Kara set you up with a window seat. As you took off you silently said goodbye to the big city and hello to your new future. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke as the lights of the plane cabin turned on. The flight attendants told everyone to prepare for landing. You gathered your things and gazed out your window. The city was lush, the leaves were turning slightly as fall rolled in. Your heart pounded against your chest with excitement, your Omega desperately wanted to see König. You still had to go through customs and baggage claim. 

König wasn't much better. Throughout the week he had distracted himself by cleaning and buying things for your arrival, but that did little to quell the Alpha in him. He brought new bedding for your nest. He didn't know what kind you'd like so he got a little bit of everything. Fluffy faux fur blankets, cooling quilts, silk sheets, you name it. He also started putting aside t-shirts he has worn in case you wanted them for your nest. His apartment had two bedrooms, one of which he never used. It had a bed and that was about it. Although he desperately wanted you to sleep in his bed, he knew Omegas needed their space to nest and feel at home. He furnished the room with a desk, nightstand, dresser, and TV. He would leave the decorating up to you as that has never been his strong suit. He waited outside of baggage claim tapping his foot anxiously. He had arrived entirely too early but couldn't stand to sit in his apartment any longer. 

Customs went by smoothly. You scanned the conveyor belts for your luggage. The longer the wait was the more your heart pounded. You were starting to sweat making your scent waft to the people around you. You moved to a corner with fewer people to avoid the annoyed looks people would give you. Your luggage finally made its round in the rotunda and you snatched it as fast as you could. You walked outside to the pickup area the sun blinding you for a moment as you looked around. You inhaled deeply trying to pinpoint König's scent. The faint smell of bread and cinnamon entered your nose through the breeze. You looked to the left seeing a familiar mop of hair behind a black SUV. He was too tall not to be the Alpha you were looking for. You walked up to him his back turned to you. 

“König.” You said happily. 

He turned to you surprised. “You're here.”

König was trying to contain his excitement. His inner alpha pressured him to pick you up, to hold you. As if reading his mind, you hugged him. He wrapped his arms around you, dwarfing you. He bent down resting his nose in your hair, savoring your scent. You looked up at him keeping your arms around his waist. He had his black surgical mask on. 

“I'm so happy to see you.”

“I spent every day thinking of you liebe.” 

He reluctantly released the embrace and opened the passenger side door for you. You sat in the car and watched him load your luggage into the trunk. He slid into the driver's seat glancing at you before pulling off onto the road. His scent sweetened the longer he was in your presence. 

“How was the flight?” He asked.

“It was easy, I just slept.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat.” 

König reached behind your seat to the back and grabbed a white paper bag. He handed it to you all without taking his eyes off the road. Inside was a croissant and a peach Danish. 

“Oh thank you König. You really know the way to woo me.” You chuckled taking a bite of the Danish. 

He responded with 'hmm' and a content smile. The ride was about thirty minutes. You gazed out the window taking in the sights of your new city. Many people rode bikes and there were endless cafes. König parallel parked onto a quiet residential block. You got out of the car taking in your surroundings. The houses were all unique in color and style. Only one person was walking down the street. König unloaded your bags and put them on the sidewalk. You went to grab them but he shooed your hands away. He locked the car and started walking. The house he led you to was a brick home with a few steps leading to the foyer. He opened the door and let you walk inside first before carrying your bags in with ease. You walked up the two flights of stairs. 

“The door is open.” König said from behind you. 

The second door came into view and you opened the door for him. He sets your bags down and closes the door behind him. The apartment was furnished but bland. Not much decor or color. It was obvious he doesn't spend much time here as it did not look lived in. 

“Come.” He said leading you down the small hallway.

 He opened the first door, it was the bathroom. Quite large for an apartment bathroom, you were excited to use the tub. He then lead you to the second door it was a nice furnished bedroom there were a lot of shopping bags near the bed. 

“This is your room. I brought nesting material for you but, I was not sure what you liked.” 

You walked in. The natural light of the morning flooded into the room through the large windows. The building was high enough that you had a decent view of the neighborhood. 

“König, you didn't have to buy all these for me.” 

“Nonsense.” 

You smiled. “Thank you, Alpha.” 

König's heart thumped against his chest. He didn't expect you to use his title so soon, but he was over the moon.

“You're welcome Omega.” He purred.

Your Omega preened at the title. Although the situation was new, you felt safe and cared for. You started opening some of the bedding to assess them for your new nest. There was a large dark blue comforter with matching silk sheets. You knew you should focus on unpacking but the temptation to build your nest was too high. König watched you from the door with adoration. He was proud of himself for making his Omega feel happy and safe. He brought your luggage into your room to unpack whenever you were ready. 

You were completely engrossed in your nest you didn't realize König was watching you. You took off your shoes and jacket and started arranging the sheets first to have a silky base. Then you used the quilts as a border before you could arrange it properly your phone started ringing, taking you out of the daze you were in. You reached for your phone in your jacket pocket. It was your mom. 

“Mom it's so early there you didn't have to call now.” 

“I know sweetie I just was paranoid. Did you arrive safe?” 

“I did, I'm at König's now.” 

“Oh, great ok that's all I was worried about. I'm gonna head back to sleep. I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too Mom”

You hung up the phone and looked around at the mess of packaging on the floor. You were debating whether you should continue making your nest or clean your mess up. Sensing your internal struggle König spoke. 

“Let's unpack Schatz.”

“Oh, right.” 

You unzipped your suitcases and started sorting things into the dresser and closet. You instructed König to put your toiletries in the bathroom and put your clothes in certain drawers. He was happy to help, spending time with his Omega was the most important thing to him. König was given a little over three months' leave to settle with his Omega. After Christmas, he had to go back on missions. The thought made his heart ache. He shook off the negative feelings before she could pick up on anything, not wanting her to worry. König picked up the packaging placing it in one of the shopping bags. He went to the kitchen to throw it away. 

Now that he was here he did not know what to do. Does he give her space? Should he take her out? König wants to spend as much time as possible with her, but he did not want to be overbearing. Before he could overthink, he heard you calling him. Walking into your room he saw you kneeling on the bed. 

“Take off your shoes and come I want to test something.” You said. 

He obliged, taking his shoes off. You waved him over to your unfinished nest. He stepped up to you hesitantly not wanting to cross any boundaries with your nest. You grabbed his hand and made him lie down. König stiffened not wanting to ruin anything. He has never been invited into an Omega's nest before. You started arranging your nesting materials around him. Once you got a good sense of how many blankets you needed for both of you to be comfy, you released him. He sat up carefully trying not to disturb anything that you arranged. He was honored that you'd feel comfortable just being in the room while you created your space. 

While making your nest you noticed how barren the room was. You wanted it to be warm and cozy. You looked up at König. 

“Let's go shopping, Alpha. Can we?” 

“Sure, liebe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König was surprised you had so much energy after your night of travel. You took in the scenery of the local shops. You slipped your hand into Konigs and led him into a home decor shop. König let himself be dragged around as you browsed. Every shop they went into you picked up small things. A wall mirror, a pretty tapestry, a cute frog statue, you had to have it. One of the shops you walked into sold Omega protection collars. You sighed.

“I wouldn't mind wearing mine as much if it looked better.” 

The shop made custom-fit metal collars. There was a beautiful gold metal collar with a dangle charm in the center. It came down to a point near the clavicle. Contrary to your basic black leather one. 

“Would you like this one?” König asked. 

“Oh, no it's expensive.” 

You moved to walk out of the shop but you felt a hand on your waist stop you. König pulled you back to him gently and waved over the sales associate. 

“Can she try this one on?” The worker nodded and took the collar out of the case. 

You removed your collar with the key you kept in your wallet and let the worker place the gold one on you. You looked in the mirror and smiled. It complimented you in the best way, simple yet elegant. The worker explained that they do custom fittings that take a few days to make but it's worth it. You removed the collar and handed it back. 

“She would like to get fitted.” König said suddenly. 

“What? No König really it's too much.”

“Just in case.”

“In case what?” 

He didn't answer. The worker did a few measurements around your neck and the size and placement of your scent glands, writing them down on a form. After they were done they bid the both of you goodbye and looked forward to your order. 

“I don't think I'm gonna get it.” You told König.

“It's too much...” You added

“That's ok.” He said. 

He placed his arm around your waist as you walked, holding your shopping bags in the other hand. You had a feeling he was planning something but you let it go for the time being. 

By the time you got home, it was getting dark. König placed your shopping bags into your room. You yawned. 

“You should sleep liebe, you've had a busy day.” König said. 

“Yeah, I'll head to bed early so I can finish my nest.” You stretched your back and walked to your room. König followed behind you heading to his room. He grabbed your wrist spinning you back toward him. His other hand caressed your cheek while leaning down to your level. He pulled down his mask revealing his plump lips.

“Goodnight Omega.” He kissed your cheek. 

König felt it was only right to return the kiss you gave him before. He let the kiss linger for a few seconds before pulling away. Heat crept from your neck to your cheeks. König walked to his room smiling to himself. You leaned against your door, heart racing. You opened the door, your inner Omega was reeling from your Alpha's attention. Your alpha? You were completely smitten by the giant Apex. You closed the door, changed into pajamas, and jumped into your nest. You sighed into the pillows, fantasizing about your Alpha. You began adjusting your nest to your liking. It ended up taking you an hour to make it perfect, keeping in mind the space for König. You'd never made a nest with someone else in mind but it was nice. You got cozy and let sleep take over. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Light entered your room slowly waking you. You looked at your phone, it was 6:04 am. You sat up and stretched, happy that you beat the jetlag. Wondering if König was awake, you quietly stepped out of your room and down the hallway to his room. You knocked gently. König was a light sleeper. He heard your small footsteps before you knocked and went to open the door. He looked down at your face still flushed with sleep. 

“Good morning.” You said, absentmindedly rubbing your eyes. 

König purred deeply. You looked so cute in your PJs he wanted to pull you into his bed., for more than just cuddling. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

“Morning Schatz.” He guided you down the hallway to the kitchen. 

“I can make us pancakes for breakfast.” You suggested.

“Sounds wonderful.” 

König watched you flit around the kitchen. The kitchen was barely used because of his job, so it was nice seeing it get used. Your head snapped to the alpha when you realized he was watching you. 

“Go sit, I'll bring it to you.” 

König nodded and sat on the couch. He turned on the TV as he waited and listened to the kitchen utensils clanging in the background. A few minutes later you emerged with a plate for him topped with syrup. He took the plate and looked at the food quizzically. 

“What's wrong?” you asked. 

“These...are pancakes?” He analyzed the fluffy discs.

“Yeah, are pancakes different here?” He nodded.

“I'll try them.” He carved out a bite with his fork. You watched him intensely. 

“How is it?” 

“...Sweet, but good.” He said. 

You smiled and went to get yourself a plate. You plopped down next to him on the couch and you took a bite. You watched the random movie he put on as you ate, feeling perfectly content with your Alpha.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, you were on the couch typing away on your laptop working on your next chapter. König was struggling to find something to do with himself. He wanted to give you space to write, but desperately wanted to spend time with you. He understood that your job was time sensitive. He was lucky to have you here at all. You heard König pacing behind you causing you to lose your concentration. You got up and went to your room. You rummaged through your suitcase, finding a copy of your fantasy novel. You walked up to König and handed him the book before returning to your spot on the couch. He appeared next to you on the couch glancing over the blurb. 

“I thought I had to buy a copy?” He said. 

“Well, you need something to do.” You chuckled. 

You two fell into a comfortable silence with König's mind now occupied. After a while, you glanced at the Alpha. He was engrossed in the pages well into the starting plot. 

“How is it so far?” 

“So good Schatz. I have not read a novel in a long time, I like it.”

“I'm glad.”

König bent the corner of the page he was on and closed the book. You nearly felt your heart jumped out of your chest.

“Ah! König!!!” You grabbed the book and attempted to straighten the corner out.

“This is a book sin!” You exclaimed.

“Oh? But I have no bookmark.” He gave you an amused look. 

“Ok just ask for one I have many!” You pouted.

“The book isn't hurt.”

“How do you know?” 

König laughed. It was so genuine and hearty that you almost forgot what you were upset about. You turned away and set the book page-side down. König's laughter died down and he looked at you. 

“You're adorable, Schatz.”

“Hmph.” You said. 

König reached around cupping your cheek. You turned to him. It was surprising to see his face a couple of inches away from yours. His eyes were soft as they gazed into yours, he looked down at your lips before capturing yours in a chaste kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, leaning into the kiss. Your bottom lip slotted in between his in the most delicious way. He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again. One of his hands slithered around your waist pulling you flush against his torso. The other hand firmly gripped the side of your jaw. 

Your heart pounded so loud you swear he could hear it.

König smiled against your lips. He finally had his Omega. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken @y2katsuki

#konig fluff #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader #alpha konig #tw a/b/o #a/b/o fic #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse #omega reader #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig #könig fluff #könig mw2 #könig mwii

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SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where the fire department is called. And Nirvana might not just be a word on a hoodie. or The twenty-sixth installment of the Skz!Pack Prequel series.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, SKZ!Pack, Pack!prequel, ot8, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, skz smut, skz fluff, skz angst, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, abo, a/b/o, skz abo, alpha beta omega, femreader, poly!skz

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Light Smut

Title: Emergency Stop

12 Hours Earlier

Chan sighs heavily and leans back in his chair, spinning a few aimless circles as he lets his gaze wander across the tiled ceiling of the student studio. 

He listens to the sound of fingers clicking across keyboards, the quiet hum of equipment, and then announces finally, to no one in particular, just to get it off his chest, “I think she’s avoiding me.” Hongjoong pulls his headphones off his ears, letting them drop down around his neck, as he turns from his current project to stare at Chan in exasperation, one dark brow arched. 

“I think that’s a little dramatic, mate.” 

“Wellllllll-” Changbin hems from the other side of the room, a grimace going across his features, as he swivels in his chair to face them, not quite meeting Chan’s gaze. 

Chan bolts upright, his voice loud with triumph. “Ah ha! I knew it!” 

“Oh my goood.” Hongjoong groans, scrubbing at his face with his hands, before he must decide that they’re not worth the trouble, turning back to his computer and pulling his headphones back up- on both ears this time. 

Changbin’s lips twist to the side in an obvious guilt ridden expression, his dark eyes finally meeting Chan’s. 

Chan feels his stomach drop as he regards his best friend and packmate’s worry. 

“What?” He asks, suddenly breathless, leaning forward in the office chair, his alpha suddenly on high alert. “What did I do? How did I fuck it up? You gotta tell me how to fix it, Bin, it’s fucking with my head.” 

Changbin reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, Chan recognizes the nervous gesture, and clears his throat, his eyes darting around the room, as if trying to focus on anything except the man in front of him. 

“You didn’t do anything, hyung. I swear to god, but I can’t tell you anything else, because (Y/N) will fucking eat me alive.” 

“She is pretty fucking scary.” Hongjoong chimes in once more, glancing over his shoulder at Chan, his fingers paused on the mouse. “Almost in Seonghwa’s league. Almost.” 

Chan glances back to Changbin, who is nodding avidly along in agreement with what the other alpha is saying. 

Chan’s alpha is growling at his mate’s resistance, at the way he’s holding back, even if he knows how to fix this whole mess, but he takes in a deep, steadying breath, and clamps his hands in his lap, willing the angry wolf back down. 

“Bin.” He tries again, glancing back to the other man, his voice steady, calm, imploring. “You gotta tell me something. If I don’t know what’s wrong, I can’t fix it, and I’m going crazy over here.” Changbin’s chest heaves with a sigh, and then he swallows, Chan watches the way his Adam's apple bobs, as he looks up to the ceiling, as if for some form of silent approval. 

Finally, he sighs again, audibly this time, and rakes a hand agitatedly through his dark hair. 

“Fine.” 

Chan feels his entire body tense, waiting on what comes next. 

He can sense a headache starting to pound to life behind his left eye. 

He doesn’t know if it’s because of the current situation, or because he hasn’t really seen you much over the last week, and his alpha is taking direct note of the loss of contact. 

Changbin shakes his head slightly to himself, as if he can’t believe what he’s going to say, going to reveal, and then he grits out, “She’s worried about something she said.” 

Chan’s mind races, going over every tiny interaction the two of you have had in the last week and a half. 

Nothing significant comes to mind. 

“What?” He asks, puzzled, as if Changbin can reveal the clues to him. 

Instead, the other alpha gives a half hearted shrug. 

“I dunno, hyung. She wouldn’t tell me anything besides that. I’m sorry, man.” 

Chan shakes his head, still analyzing every time you’ve spoken, or interacted, since he saw you during Jeongin’s heat. 

Honestly, it wasn’t much, considering you’d been avoiding him at all costs. 

He manages a weak grin, and stands, walking over to pat Changbin on the back. 

“Nah, it’s fine, mate. Thanks for telling me that much. I’ll figure it out.” 

Changbin glances up at him, expression unreadable, and gives a curt nod, already reaching for his headphones again. 

“She feels things really fucking deeply. Deeper than the rest of us. Sometimes she just needs a little space to figure it out. But she cares about you, hyung. A lot. She wouldn’t be this fucking worried if she didn’t.” 

Chan grips his shoulder a little tighter, a silent sign of acknowledgement, and goes back to his own work station. 

He knows Changbin’s right. Knows he speaks from experience. 

So why is his stomach still in knots? 

*******

Fuck. 

Your eyes dart around the small kitchen, helplessly looking for an escape route, before they settle on the two men sitting at the table, staring you down. 

You clear your throat, and try to work up an easy smile. 

“You were talking about me? I’m flattered Min.” 

Minho’s smirk widens, growing sharp and dangerous, as if he knows exactly what you’re trying to do. 

You’re sure he does. 

He pats the chair beside him, in the middle of he and Chan. 

“Have a seat.” 

You can’t think of literally anything worse in this moment, your skin already hot underneath Chan’s stare, your fingers itching at your side, your alpha begging you to please get the fuck out of here already.

You take a step backward, back toward the safety of the hallway. 

“That’s okay, I actually was just leaving to go on a run.” 

Minho’s brow arches a little higher. 

“At eleven PM?” 

There is amusement in his tone, as if he knows he’s caught you in an outright lie. 

You give a little shrug, and take another step toward the door. 

“I do my best running at night. Must be the wolf in me.” 

You don’t dare look at Chan, not when he’s right here, staring at you, expression unreadable. He hasn’t said one word since you entered the room, and you can practically feel your body withering from the shame of his heavy gaze. 

It’s like he can see right through you, and you need to get out of here, right now. 

“Anyway-” You’re halfway into the hallway now, the front door, your shining savior, within sight. You give the men a little wave and another unconvincing, weak smile. “-gotta go. Have fun.” 

You dart for the front door, nearly bowling an emerging Jisung over, sending his popcorn flying. 

“Hey!” He protests with a glare in your direction, but you don’t stop, tugging on your sneakers with record speed, before you barrel out the door of the apartment. 

“Sorry, Jisungie!” You call over your shoulder, because you are, but honestly, in times of crisis-

You can breathe easier out here, in the quiet darkness of the dorm hallway, even though you’re still practically jogging, headed directly for the elevator. 

You’re making a beeline for your dorm a few floors down, and you’re staying locked up in there until Chan decides to leave. 

Well, not leave, because he lives here too, but at least until he decides to go back to his own kitchen and stop talking to Minho about whatever the hell they were discussing. 

You slide through the gap of the doors in the elevator before they’re fully open, and pound the second floor button a few more times than necessary, catching your breath as you wait for the doors to close. 

They’re almost down to a sliver, and you think you’ve gotten away with your hasty escape, when an arm shoots through, bouncing them back open, and Chan steps into view. 

Immediately, the breath you’ve just regained leaves your body, as he joins you in the elevator, the doors hissing shut quietly behind him. 

There’s silence, the space suddenly feeling smaller than normal, as you stare him down warily from your corner. 

“What-” You start to say, in an attempt at least to fill the uncomfortable quiet, but Chan beats you to it.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He demands, dark eyes flashing, as the elevator jolts into motion. 

You brace yourself against the wall, your mouth dropping open at his serious, commanding tone. 

“I’m not avoiding you-” You start to protest weakly, the lie sounding unconvincing to even your own ears. 

“Bullshit” Chan cuts you off once more with a growl, taking a menacing step toward you, and suddenly, you know, you’re not dealing with Christopher Bang any longer, you’re dealing with his alpha.

His irrational, incredibly pissed off and slighted alpha. 

Fuck. 

The elevator feels tiny now, saturated with the scent of thunder, and you swallow hard, your own alpha flattening its ears in response. 

The sound of a ding signals the arrival of the next floor, and before you can make a move to do something, anything, Chan reaches behind him without a glance, and slams his palm down over the emergency stop button. 

The elevator grinds to a sudden halt with an eerie shriek of gears, and then there is silence, all movement ceased. 

Your mouth falls open once more, but you feel your own anger flare to life in the pit of your stomach, rising to meet his. 

“Chan, what the fuck do you think you’re doing-” 

He stalks toward you, and you shrink back into the corner, the cool metal of the hand bar digging into your back. 

“Exactly what I should’ve done when this whole nonsense started.” He growls, caging you in as he puts his hands on either side of your head, fingers digging into the slick, cool brushed metal of the elevator’s walls as he glares down at you. 

You’re choking on the storm now, your heart pounding against the wall of your ribs. 

But you hold your ground regardless, lifting your head as defiance flashes across your gaze, and frost starts to crackle outward from you, freezing the storm. 

“Oh? And what’s that? Emergency stop an elevator in a little temper tantrum?” 

His dark eyes flash, and a muscle ticks in his jaw, but his voice is steady when he responds. 

“If I have to trap you in a room with me to get you to talk over things like an adult, like my mate, then yes.” 

You scoff, looking away from his burning gaze. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“That’s not what Changbin said.” 

Your head jerks up, your angry gaze meeting his. 

“Fuck Changbin.” 

“I do, and I enjoy it.” Chan fires right back without missing a beat, crowding you into the corner further, his scowl deepening. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, is it?” 

“I’m not. Avoiding you.” You grind out through gritted teeth, your jaw clicking with the immense pressure of keeping your rage back. 

It’s a blatant lie, and you both know it. 

Chan’s eyes darken, dripping golden around the pupils now, and when he parts his lips, his teeth flash in what’s almost a snarl, dangerous and threatening. 

You can practically feel his alpha’s teeth poised warningly over your exposed throat. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this angry before. 

“You think-” He begins, and his voice has dropped dangerously, a menacing growl in the back of his throat, a rumble in his chest. “-that even if I was stupid enough not to notice, he wouldn’t?” 

Your lips part, ready to spit something back, but something about his words ring true in the hollow pit of your stomach. 

He’s right. You could avoid him all you wanted, but your alpha, and his, would know. They were the ones who were suffering because of the distance, keening for their mates. 

Fuck, if it was hell for the two of you, it was fucking torture for them. 

Chan’s gaze hasn’t wavered from your own, not once, and when he speaks again, his words are just above a murmur, and you don’t miss the way his breath trembles on his next inhale. 

“I can’t fucking sleep, (Y/N.) I can’t eat, I can’t study, I can’t produce, I can’t do anything, because every single waking moment is spent trying to figure out what I did wrong and how to fix it.” 

You feel guilt drop like a hot pound of lead into the pit of your stomach. 

You lean your head back on the wall behind you, and meet his gaze head on, your voice quiet, but steady, when you reply back, “It wasn’t anything you did.” 

Confusion starts to pool into his expression, easing some of the anger, and you feel your own fury start to melt away like sand with the tide, leaving your body tired and heavy. 

“Then why?” He questions back, gaze boring into your own. 

You sigh, and glance behind him to the still blinking emergency stop button, wondering how much time you have before someone notices the elevator hasn’t moved and calls the fire department to rescue the two of you. 

That’s all you need right now. Better hurry this up. 

“I said something.” You announce without preamble, shifting your gaze to meet his own once more, sudden fear rising like bile in your throat. You force through the feeling, and swallow hard. “The day you asked me for help during Jeongin’s presentation.” Chan watches you closely, silently, and you give a little shrug and half a laugh-it’s awkward, and fleeting, and leaves the space in between you feeling heavier than before. 

“And I wasn’t sure if what I’d said-what I’d admitted-made you feel weird. I was scared I’d messed shit up, and I wanted to give you space to deal, if that was the case.” 

Chan cocks his head-the motion is endearing, like a puppy-and you resist the urge to reach up and push some of the curls back off his forehead with your fingers. 

Confusion is clear on every inch of his features now. 

“What did you-” He starts to ask, and then something clicks behind his expression, his eyes going wide and his jaw going slack. “Oh, you mean the love thing.” “Oh my god.” You groan, covering your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up. “Do we have to call it that?” 

When you peek back through your fingers, Chan is smiling, his lips pulled crookedly to one side, the gold fading slowly from his gaze. 

“That’s why you were avoiding me? You were worried about that?” 

“Yes!” You shriek,a little bit louder than necessary, and Chan’s grin widens even more. “I mean, that’s a fuck of a thing to announce to someone out of the blue, when they’re already dealing with a ton of shit and I didn’t know how you’d take it.” 

Chan tilts his head, regarding you. “But you’ve already told me you love me. Once before. Remember?” 

You stare at him like he’s just grown another head, and then it clicks. 

“That didn’t count!” You cough out, choking on your own spit, waving your hands wildly as you try to regain your breath. “That was like a post fuck thing, I was feeling sappy,  I just threw it out there to everyone in general, you guys had just saved me and given me the best orgasm of my life and it wasn’t-” “True?” Chan finishes for you, though there’s no hurt on his face, only slight amusement. 

“No!” You protest, growing angry again as you grow more flustered by the second. “It was true, it just wasn’t so-”

“Direct?” Chan tries once again, watching you closely. 

“Yeah.” You finish helplessly, your shoulders slumping. 

Chan gives a little laugh, and slides one of his large hands down the elevator wall to grip your chin in his fingers, raising your embarrassed gaze to his once more. 

His expression softens, the corners of his mouth settling into an affectionate smile, as you struggle a little and try to resist his gaze. 

“Baby. Look at me.” 

You finally do as he says, reluctantly meeting his eyes, and he arches a brow at you. 

The air between you is heavy with ice and storm, but it doesn’t feel so oppressive now. 

In fact, the headache you’ve been battling all week seems to be miraculously gone. 

Chan’s lips twitch, and you huff at him a little, folding your arms across your chest at his obvious amusement in your sheepishness. 

“Listen. If it hasn’t been incredibly fucking clear since the first time I met you that I’m head over heels for you, then I must not be doing enough to prove it to you.” 

Your own lips twitch into the hint of a smile then, and you begrudgingly uncross your arms from your chest. 

“No, you’re doing enough. Trust me. Following me around like a little lost puppy when I openly hated your guts for the first couple of weeks definitely sold it.”

Chan laughs, and the sound sends warmth cascading down your body. 

Your tired muscles feel a little more manageable now. 

 Chan leans in, and rests his forehead against yours. 

You take a moment to breathe him in, and then he murmurs, breath warm on your face, “Now, say it again, but don’t run away this time.” 

You smirk, keeping your eyes closed as you whisper back, “There’s not really anywhere for me to go. You saw to that.” 

He chuckles, breath fanning across your skin, but doesn’t move to pull away. 

You take in a deep breath, and let your hands skim up the warm length of his arms, letting your fingers take him in for a moment, before you breathe out, “I love you, Christopher Bang. Even though I hated your guts, and fucked up a couple of huge things, and you trapped me in an elevator with you-twice, I might add, against my will-I love you, and I don’t think that’s ever not been true.” 

Chan opens his eyes, and you stare into the golden flecks of his irises, before he pulls back, and his lips curve into the start of a smirk. 

“Now, was that so hard?” 

You swing an arm out and hit him lightly in the chest, giving him a fake glare. 

“Say it back.” 

He grins, and leans in, caging you with his forearms once more against the cool metal behind your head, his nose brushing your own. 

“I fucking love you, (Y/N), I always have. Even when you hated my guts. In fact, in retrospect, I think that made me love you even more.” 

You giggle, and Chan covers your mouth with his without warning, swallowing the sound. 

You let your hands trace up his back and into his hair, fingers tangling in his curls, as he flicks his tongue between the seam of your lips and into your waiting mouth. 

The sharp points of his canines graze and tug at your bottom lip, and you moan, breaking the kiss as you let your head fall back to the wall behind you, breathing heavily, as Chan presses kisses down your jaw, the column of your throat, tickling and teasing your skin as he nibbles your collarbone, traces your scent gland with his tongue. 

“They’re gonna send the fire department after us, you know.” You gasp out, gaze flicking beyond him once more to the flashing button on the wall, as he drops to his knees in front of you, fingers finding your hip bones. 

Chan looks up at you, lips red and kiss bitten, a grin stretching the pink skin over white teeth. 

He arches a brow. 

“Lucky for you, baby, they’re not incredibly known for their fast response time, and I’m a fairly quick worker.” 

You reach out a hand to stop him as he reaches for the closure of your pants, and when he looks up at you in confusion, your lips lift into a smirk. 

“What if I told you I wanted to take my time?” 

His lips slowly lift into a wicked grin of his own. 

“I think we can make that happen.” 

********

Your apartment is closer than Chan’s (by one floor, but hey, a floor is a floor), so after apologizing to some severely annoyed alphas who were waiting on the stalled elevator, you push through your front door and Chan doesn’t wait a second before he pounces. 

He backs you against the wall of the hallway, his hands dropping to your waist once more, his mouth already on yours. 

His tongue swipes around the inside of your mouth, and you groan into him. “About that taking our time thing-” 

Chan chuckles huskily, the sound going right to your core, and if you weren’t already incredibly wet before, you sure as hell are now. 

There’s a quiet sound behind the two of you and you freeze, leaning up to glance over Chan’s shoulder, suddenly on full alert. 

“Jeongin?” 

Chan follows your gaze, your mouth open in shock, to the omega standing beside the front door, waving sheepishly to the two of you, his cheeks almost as red as his hair. 

“Hey, noona.” 

You slip out beneath Chan’s arm and approach him, surprise clearly etched across your face. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I was waiting for you.” Jeongin gives a little shrug, but he won’t meet your eyes, embarrassment clear on his pretty features. “You said later earlier and I thought-” 

Oh. Fuck. 

You let out a sigh, suddenly feeling more than a little remorseful. “Sorry, Innie. I was hanging out at Minho’s and then Chan was there-” 

Jeongin glances down, scuffing his shoe into the worn carpet. “No, it’s fine, noona. I was just gonna sneak out when I heard the two of you, but I should’ve known I had no chance when up against a wolf’s hearing.” 

His hand reaches for the doorknob, and without thinking, you reach out and stop him. 

“Wait-” You swallow, his large, dark eyes flicking to you in surprise. “I mean. You can join us? If you want?” 

Jeongin stares at you, his pupils huge. 

“What?” Chan approaches, his hand going on your shoulder as he addresses Jeongin. “Yeah, Innie. It’s up to you, but we don’t mind-” 

You notice the way Chan reaches up to rub his neck as he speaks, as if he’s just as nervous over this as Jeongin is. 

“Don’t feel any pressure.” You hurry to reassure the omega standing in front of you. “I know you don’t have much experience, and one alpha on a good day is a lot, so if this is too overwhelming-”

Jeongin bites his lip and glances between the two of you. Finally, he says hesitantly, voice barely above a whisper, “I think I’d like that. But-” He takes in a nervous breath. “Can I just watch for a little bit first? Would that be okay?” 

You smirk. “Oh, so you’re one of those?” 

Jeongin instantly flushes, and you rush to reassure him you were only teasing, looping an arm around his shoulders as you lead him back toward your room, Chan following on your heels. 

“I’m just kidding, baby. There’s nothing wrong with a little voyeurism. Minho loves to watch.” 

“He also loves to boss.” Chan says with a slight smirk, as he steps ahead of you and pushes open the closed door, allowing you both to pass first into the room. 

“That he does.” You laugh a little, and then turn to Jeongin. “Okay, pup. Pick your poison.”

Jeongin glances around, clearly still a little shy given the circumstances, and then he settles into the desk chair in the corner of your room, opposite the bed. He pulls his knees up to his chest and nods. “Okay. Just pretend I’m not here.”

Chan has come to stand against your back, tickling his fingers up and down your spine, brushing his nose across the juncture of your throat, and at Jeongin’s words, he groans, and you feel him press into you from behind. He’s still clearly worked up from before, the momentary pause hasn’t even phased him. 

“That’s gonna be pretty hard to do when you smell so fucking good, pup.” 

Jeongin looks wide eyed at Chan’s throaty admission, and leans over to not so subtly sniff his own shirt. “I don’t smell anything crazy.” 

Chan growls in his throat, and you smirk, reaching back to palm him through his jeans. He bucks his hips up into your hand, his fingers digging into your shoulders. 

“That’s because you’re used to how you smell, but you’re kinda blooming, Innie. It means your omega has sensed the presence of alphas-pack alphas-and is desperately trying to get our attention.” 

“Oh.” Jeongin murmurs, looking suddenly small. “I’m sorry, I can leave-” He makes a move to get up. 

“Sit down.” You command, and his pupils dilate at the sound of your timber, but he does as he’s told. You soften your tone a little. “You’re fine, Innie. You’re not going to distract from anything. If anything, your scent is going to make this all the more enjoyable.” 

Chan’s teeth graze over your scent gland, and you glance back at him, arching your brow. “Eager, are we?” 

Chan growls again, the sound a low rumble against your back, and snakes his hand around your waist, letting his fingers find the inside of your thighs. He applies pressure with the palm of his hand, and you arch your back in response, letting out a quick hitch of breath. 

“Very.” He replies, licking a stripe up the side of your neck with his tongue, tasting you. 

You turn to face him, your eyes flashing gold to match his own, but before you fully lose yourself in him, you glance once more at the omega over your shoulder, saying in a soft, serious tone, “Innie, if you want us to stop at any point, say something, and we will. Without hesitation.” 

He nods. “Yes, noona.” His eyes are wide, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he watches Chan pull you toward the bed. 

“Sit down.” Chan orders you, much like you had commanded Jeongin earlier, and you do so, but not without a slight smirk in his direction. 

“I’m not going to make this easy.” You warn, settling onto the edge of the bed, your expression wicked. 

Chan knocks apart your knees and stands between your legs, a look of annoyance on his features. One hand tangles into your hair and he yanks your head back, forcing you to look at him, as the other hand comes to loosely wrap around the front of your throat. 

You feel your pulse quicken under his hold.

“Don’t play that game, pet. Not right now. You already made me wait far too fucking long already.” Chan lifts his lips into the hint of a snarl, and the flash of his sharp canines has your inner thighs slick with want. 

He slides his hand slowly up the column of your throat, finally letting his fingers find purchase beneath your chin, tilting your head back even further. 

“But you know that already, don’t you?” He murmurs, staring down at you with something akin to a hungry predator in his dark gaze. 

You swallow beneath the hold he has on your throat, and arch a brow pettily in response. “Care to remind me?” 

Chan’s lips curl, and another animalistic growl slips through the barrier of his teeth. 

You hear Jeongin let out a sharp exhale from the corner, but you don’t look over.

Your entire body is electrified, waiting for Chan’s next move. 

“I could remind you who you belong to-” Chan muses, eyes flashing golden as he stares at you. “-but I don’t think that’s necessary, do you?” 

He leans down, and without warning, slips a hand down underneath the band of your pants. 

His fingers immediately touch your heat, and just by the look of satisfaction that flickers across his features, you can tell he feels just how wet you are already. 

He pulls back, and holds up his slick, glistening fingers for you to see with a cock of his head. 

“I think you already know.” He repeats in a low tone, advancing toward you now, backing you onto the bed, until he’s straddling you, leaning over your prone form. “Don’t you?” 

“Yes.” You breathe out, tired of playing already, tired of staying away from him. 

“Yes what?” He prods, lips curling up into the hint of a dangerous smirk, as he moves to strip you of your clothes. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

Chan freezes, his pupils blowing at the nickname, and a muscle in his jaw ticks, as if he’s silently fighting himself for control, his hands curling into fists beside you on the bed. 

You openly smirk up at him. “Oh, I knew you’d like that one. You know, given your certain proclivities.” 

His irises are completely drowning in gold now, his lips parted slightly as he stares down at you, his breath coming in harsh pants, his chest heaving. 

Still smirking, you roll your head to the side and find Jeongin in your line of sight, arching a brow in the omega’s direction. 

“Did you catch that, Innie? When he was fucking you through your presentation?” Your voice is smooth like butter, dripping with taunting. You’re playing with the alpha on top of you now, and you all know it. 

Jeongin stares at you, his stare moving slowly to Chan and then back again. “Catch what, noona?” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been holding his breath. 

You shift so you’re staring back up at Chan, looming over you, and your lips tick upward into a dangerous expression meant to goad. 

“Our Channie here has a little obsession-a fantasy, if you will-with breeding. He probably went easy on you the first time he knotted you, because you’re inexperienced, but he just loves to fill you up when he fucks you, loves the idea of stretching you with his seed and then his pups, hm, Channie?” 

A low growl rolls from Chan’s chest, and you hear Jeongin’s breath catch. 

The smell of cinnamon is overpowering. 

Chan pins your hands above your head in one smooth, quick motion, and leans over to bite down-hard-on your scent gland in the curvature of your shoulder. 

Not hard enough to mark or draw blood, but damn near close. 

Your body goes limp beneath him, your mind going blank, your jaw slack, and suddenly, any of the teasing from before is long gone, and the only thought is-alpha, alpha, alpha. 

He pulls back, licking his lips with a wicked smirk, and fuck it, he knows he’s won already. 

“I should punish you for teasing me, pet, but lucky for you, I’m far to eager to feel you squeezing every last drop out of me to make myself wait any longer.”

And without warning, he leans over and sinks his teeth into your muscle once again, sheathing himself fully inside of you in the same frantic motion. 

You cry out, the sensations hitting you all at once, and arch your body up into his hold. 

He hadn’t prepped you, but honestly, you were wet enough that he slid in without much resistance, and the friction was honestly close to pushing you over the edge already. 

Chan growls, the sound sending goosebumps over your skin, muffled by his hold on your shoulder, and thrusts wildly a few times, like an animal gone mad with desire. 

You let him, your fingers scrabbling at his skin, and letting your head roll to the side to give him more access to your neck, you catch sight of Jeongin, watching the two of you with something clearly hot, but tentative, on his features. 

Reaching a hand out, you splay it across Chan’s bare chest, stopping his movements, and he releases his teeth’s hold on you, as you say quietly to get his attention, “Chan.” 

He’s panting, but he stills, and the feeling of him filling you without moving is enough to drive you crazy, but you keep your focus on Jeongin as you hold out your free hand. 

“Done watching, Innie? Wanna join in?” 

The omega swallows, you see the way his throat bobs, and then he stands, looking suddenly nervous, but you can tell he’s intrigued and more than a little hot and bothered at this point if the tent in his pants is any indication. 

He approaches the bed, and swallows again. 

“You don’t have to.” You say softly, taking his hand in yours and rubbing his fingers. “I know this can be overwhelming, but if you want to-” 

He nods, glancing down at you, his eyes trailing down the length of Chan’s body atop yours, before he meets your gaze once more with a look of determination. 

“No, I want to.” 

“Good boy.” You praise, before you tug him forward and onto the bed beside you and Chan. You jerk your head at his clothes. “Take those off.” 

He does so quickly, and then sits back down beside the two of you once more, looking unsure. “Now what?” 

You give him an encouraging smile. “Now, you’re gonna kneel above me and slide yourself into my mouth.” You open your lips and lean your head back to show him, careful not to jostle Chan. 

Jeongin’s eyes go wide. “What? But what if I hurt you-?” 

A raspy chuckle leaves Chan’s lips, and he gives the omega a soft look. “You’re not gonna hurt her, pup. I promise.”

“You’re not.” You reiterate, as Jeongin finally takes a breath and moves to kneel above your head. You glance up at him, as you wrap your hands around the back of his thighs. “And besides, now is as good a time as any to talk about safe words and safety gestures. I won’t be able to talk, obviously, but if I need you to stop at any time, I’ll tap you twice, like this, okay?”

 I tap the back of his thigh with two fingers hard, twice. 

Jeongin nods, staring down at my head between his knees. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” You repeat back, parting your lips once more. “Whenever you’re ready.” Jeongin hesitates briefly, glancing to Chan, who gives him a little nod, and then he leans forward and places the tip of himself into your mouth. 

You adjust slightly to allow easier access as he slowly slides between your lips. 

You see the way his body tenses as he feels your tongue on him, but he still gives you a worried sort of glance. “Okay?” 

You nod slightly, and hum a sound of affirmation, before you let yourself suck, creating suction with your tongue. 

Jeongin instantly groans, his head falling back and his hands scrabbling to tangle in your hair. 

Chan takes that as his cue to move again as well, and he resumes his thrusting from before, his hips moving more rhythmically now. 

You feel Jeongin hit the back of your throat, and oh god, he tastes just like he smells, and fuck, with Chan moving like that-

You can feel the muscles in your body tensing, readying for release, as you keep working Jeongin with your mouth and Chan shunts your body over and over with his. 

“Fuck, noona, I-” Jeongin starts to say, and then he’s shuddering, and you feel him release, tasting the sweetness on your tongue. 

“Fuck.” Chan swears, watching Jeongin come for you, and then he leans forward, his sweaty skin sticking to yours as he rests his forehead on your chest, fingers digging into your wrists, and roars through his own release. 

Everything whites out for a moment as your own body uncoils, and you have to remind yourself to breathe, as Jeongin slowly pulls himself from your mouth and Chan lies on top of you, catching his breath. 

“Fuck.” Jeongin repeats, staring down at you, his eyes full of awe. “Fuck.” 

You give a weak little laugh and reach out to brush Chan’s sweaty hair back from his forehead. He glances up at you, his chin on your chest, and releases his hold on your wrists, one of his hands moving to your jaw and pinching your mouth open so he can look inside. 

A small smirk quirks the corner of his mouth as he says hoarsely, “A shame to waste all that perfectly good come on your mouth, baby.” You grin down at him, wincing slightly as he pulls himself out of you with a long, low groan. 

He flops down beside you on the bed, covering his face with his arm as his chest still heaves. 

On your other side, Jeongin collapses down as well, his hand finding yours, even though his eyes are closed. 

After a few moments of silence, Chan pushes himself up with effort, and scoots to the edge of the bed. He waves a finger between you and Jeongin’s prone forms. 

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” 

You give a sound of assent, but don’t open your eyes. 

Soon though, you hear the sound of his footsteps padding back, and he nudges you with his hand. 

“Drink this, baby.” You crack open your eyes, and take the bottle of water he offers you, passing the other one to Jeongin, who guzzles it down immediately. 

Chan slides back onto the bed between your legs, and begins to wipe down the sticky skin of the inside of your thighs with the warm rag, cleaning up all the residual juices that were left behind. 

You relax into his gentle motions, and when he’s finished, he turns to Jeongin, arching a brow at the younger boy. 

“Can I?” He asks, and Jeongin hesitates, before he nods slightly, spreading his legs for Chan to clean him up as well. 

You watch them-how gentle Chan is, how trusting Jeongin is-and you feel warm from head to toe. 

Warm and content. 

When he’s finished with Jeongin, you finally sit up and reach for the rag, motioning for Chan to lay back on the bed. 

“Okay, now you.” 

He opens his mouth, as if to protest, but Jeongin pushes him down gently with a hand to his chest and a small smile. 

“C’mon, hyung. It’s only fair.” 

Chan rolls his eyes, but lets you wash him over with the warm rag anyway, and you can tell, by the slight hint of pink on his cheeks, that he enjoys the tender touches just as much as you do. 

When everyone is cleaned up, you motion for Jeongin to snuggle down between the two of you, your arm looped comfortably across him, your fingers making nonsensical patterns on the warm, bare skin of Chan’s chest. 

Leaning over to press a kiss to the tip of Jeongin’s nose, you say softly, “I love you.” Jeongin glances up at you with large eyes, and his lips curve into a smile. 

“I love you too, noona. And you, hyung.” 

You grin and press another kiss to the top of his soft, red hair, before he glance across to Chan, who is watching you affectionately, a small smile on his lips. 

He arches a brow at you and whispers over the top of Jeongin’s head, “I’m proud of you. You’re getting better.” 

You grin back at him, and reach up with your free hand to cup his jaw, before you squish Jeongin between you as you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you, Bang Chan.” 

He tugs you forward for another kiss, and Jeongin whines slightly at being squished. 

“I love you too.” ********************************

“So, I’m guessing the two of you made up?” Changbin remarks offhandedly, leaning against the desk as he eyes you with an arch of his brow and a smirk on his lips. 

You give a little shrug, sifting through Chan’s papers to find the one you’re looking for. “I guess. How can you tell?” You stop, glancing back at him with a narrowing of your eyes. 

Changbin grins, his eyes dropping pointedly to the large black hoodie you wear. “That’s his favorite hoodie.” 

You hold out the heavy fabric so you can see the Nirvana logo printed across the front of it, staring at it skeptically. “Really? This old thing? I just stole this the last time we went over to his dorm after hide and seek.” 

Changbin laughs and shakes his head, leaning around you now to pluck up a piece of paper and present it to you. 

It’s the one you’ve been looking for. 

You snatch it from him with a teasing glare. 

“Really.” He nods, tugging at the hood of the hoodie teasingly. “This fucking thing is his favorite fucking thing on the whole planet, so the fact that he let you take it and wear it-” He shakes his head in slight disbelief, and smirks down at you. “-well maybe that just means that he has a new favorite fucking thing on the whole planet.” 

You grin at that. 

“I kind of like the sound of that.” Changbin grins back and tackles you onto the futon in the corner of the studio, tickling you as you shriek and struggle to get away from him.

“I knew you would.” 

#skz #stray kids #stay #skz!Pack #skz!abo #poly!skz #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #ot8 #pack!prequel #bang chan #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #han jisung #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #skz fic #skz fanfic #femreader #skz x you #skz x reader

[sarahowritesostucky]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, non-con, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", mating, breeding, hate to strong affection, yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the alpha 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.

Masterlist

Daddy's Home (Series teaser)

Episode 1: A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like Her Mommy

Episode 2: Taking Back What's His

Episode 3: The Lap of Luxury

Episode 4: Motherhood Suits You

Episode 5: Should've Done this Years Ago

Epilogue: A Storybook Romance Once Again

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" shlyukha = "slut" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" milashka = "cutie patootie" malen'kiy = "little one"  malyshka = "little girl" pchelka = "little bee"

@cjand10, @violetwinterwidow01, @ppbhquinn, @myfavbuckyfics, @liannafae, @sadsackssss, @timidquindim, @dakotali, @rayofdawnworld, @wintrsoldrluvr, @lindasweetie

#bucky barnes #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #fanfic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #mafia bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes #mafia au #mob au #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #alpha bucky barnes #omega reader #alpha/omega #a/b/o #mates #arranged marriage #forced marriage #kid fic #pregnancy #hate to love #enemies to lovers #dark bucky barnes #dark romance

[bloodycassian]

To Be Wed part two - The Chase

NSFW 18+ MDNI - Part two of To Be Wed. READ WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING.

WARNINGS / Themes - breeding/pregnancy (not mentioned in scene.) primal play that INVOLVES MAJOR CNC THEMES. Knife play. Edging/teasing. defensive/territorial men. ABO style dicks (knotting. Monster dick style). Cum play. Cuckholding. Voyeur. Outdoor sex + EXHIBITIONISM. Gagging. Forced squirting. pinning/restraint. Eventual pregnancy.

DP - Vaginal and Anal at same time. Vaginal and oral at same time. Vaginal penetration. Anal penetration. Oral penetration. Polyamory.

Hope this one has your butterflies doing the freak. Requests/ideas for kinks are open.

M D N I - 18+ NSFW. READ WARNINGS BEFORE CONTINUING.

Something was wrong with Azriel. Something deeply disturbing in his mind that he couldn’t ignore for more than a few moments in a day. He was obsessed. More so than he was with any ordinary thing that piqued his interest. He was completely, and utterly enthralled with the female that had signed her life away so easily.

He couldn’t get enough. Of any of it. From being their bodyguard to their dates, to the sacred moments when he’d fuck her for Rhys. He was loyal to a fault but this was different. This was a hunger that had never been known to him, and he hadn’t an idea of how to satiate it.

Watching Rhys cum inside her served him, he greatly enjoyed watching - but a part of him questioned what would happen when the babe finally came to fruition. After over three months of dedicated fucking - and weekly fertility potions he, Rhys and the female were taking, he feared the time eas coming soon.

The anxiety of the looming date was something that had him searching for alternatives - going to pleasure houses when she wasn't in the mood, but finding nothing to be nearly as stimulating. He’d even tried to recreate the situation, hiring both male and female whores to serve him.

He hadn’t even finished.

Fear and frustration riddled his days when he wasn’t near her.

+

“Nothing new. I suggest two potions, if you can stomach it.” The healer - Madja, Rhys had informed you each visit - took her hands from just your public bone and brought out the oils she kept below the table.

“Let me do it, this time.” Rhys said, his tone light but saddened. She hesitated, her thick round glasses glinting in the filtered sun coming through the frosted window. It was a cold evening in Velaris, the last of winter going out with a bitter sigh. The skies would lighten and be warm soon, hopefully it would be after the summer months when a child took root in your belly.

The oils served as both a softening to your skin for any potential swelling from the potion, as well as a ritualistic method of fertility from another culture that the healer had mentioned on your first visit here. You’d been trembling and too anxious to recall exactly what it signified and to whom.

The fear came mainly from the judgment. Though the female hadn’t batted an eye when Rhsy has explained the situation, you were still met with stares and upturned noses in the streets when you ventured alone. The High Lord’s broodmare. The child-barer. The Whore. The titles were new, but the glares were something you were accustomed to as a thief and beggar before.

“West to East, High Lord.” Madja gave him a glare, and Rhys grinned. “Opposite of the sun cycle.” She enunciated the word, leading you to believe he’d done some rotten spellwork before by not following her directions.

“Of course.” He sketched a small bow, and you smacked him on the shoulder.

Azriel couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips. She was… He couldn’t describe it any other way aside from ideal. A tolerant soul with a mouth that-

He cut his thoughts off right then and there. Now was not the time for such ideas.

“Thank you.” You said, making meaningful eye contact with the wrinkled female. She had a kind enough look about her, but there was something about the way she carried herself that had your senses on edge.

Her smile was small, tugging at the corners of her leathery skin. “You’ll be a fine mother.” She nodded.

Despite her words, you worried you may never be able to uphold your end of the Bargain.

The tattoo at your clavicle ached.

+

You were no longe sore after their knots would fill you. Your body had grown accustom to the wonderful stretch of it, taking them with eager ease now. But even though he bit and lapped at you with the same passion as ever, Azriel’s cock seemed less ridigid, the roundness at the base hardly making an appearance even after several minutes of fucking into you.

“Stop.. stop-” You panted. As much as you would have love to cum on him, without his usual size it wasn’t going to happen. That was why he’d always gone second, coaxing that spot inside you over and over again until you broke upon him.

Your legs trembled as he rolled off of you, falling in the middle of you and Rhys. The High Lord handed him a towel, which he draped over his half hard cock. A flick of the hand and Azriel’s shadows set to work on you, collecting at the apex of your thighs in a cool, writhing bundle.

“Stop, Az-” The words were strangled, with the skilled tentacles already setting to work.

They disappeared, going into mist at the command. “Tell me what’s going on.” You demanded, turning on your side to face him. Rhys sat up, his brows pulled together.

Azriel sighed, and shook his head. “It’s nothing.” He put it simply, a male of few words. You knew better. “Tell me or-”

“Or what? You’ll leave? There’s no breaking that bond on your skin. Not until you bear a child.” He spat the words, his features hard, then softening the moment his eyes landed on you. He saw the way you recoiled, your body sagging and the distraught look on your face.

“Azriel-” Rhys began, the tone in authority ringing true and rattling your bones.

“I’m sorry.” Az covered his face with his hands, the raised pattern of his scars interrupted by the smooth lines of veins. “I’m sorry.” He sighed, and sat up as well.

He scooted back, his wings pinched tight against his back as he spoke. “I cant- Ahh.” He rubbed at his face again, his neck and cheeks going a deeper shade. You’d enver seen the shadowsinger so unsure, embarrassed even.

“I fear once you bear a child, that my life may be empty without you.” He said it while looking into your eyes, his own shining true with his statement. Rhys stiffened, his eyes going to you in part questioning himself. He couldnt’ deny he’d had similar thoughts.

“I have no intention of leaving the best sex I’ve ever had only because I am no longer contractually obligated to the sex.” You could have laughed at the obserdity of the idea. You’d called him your own pleasure keeper to his face, and he’d not only laughed but accepted the title. How could he think such things?

“A child may lessen passions for a short while, but from what I’ve heard…” You leaned in close to Azriel’s rounded ear. “Some females find their desires heightened after the babe’s born.”

He turned and looked at you, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, then to your womb. He placed his hand there and sighed. “I apologize. My words reflect my fears, not how I feel about your faith.” He paused, and when Rhys spoke it was soft.

“I too fear the pregnancy for the same reason. As ridiculous as it is, it makes me wish to not cum, so I may keep the pleasure of this.” His mind reached to yours, and you allowed him entry. Both you and Azriel sucked in a breath at the sight of you riding the shadowsinger, from Rhys’s angle.

“That-” Azriel pushed the high lord from his mind, his cock already hardening from the sight. “-is why I can barely stay hard. I cant stop thinking of not cumming.”

An idea came to you then. A proof of sorts, that even if you did attempt to flee the deal, that them finding you was something you’d already anticipated. You weren’t sure if it would fix their fears, but it did remind you of something you’d always desired.

You straightened, then focused your mind. You’d been able to show them small things before, and now you tried again. “Allow me to show you something that may help.” You mind-spoke to them. It felt like mostly Rhys there, halfway into your mind, but he’d be able to relay the thought to Azriel.

You showed him the images, the birdseye view you imagined of yourself running, panting in a forest midday as you evaded something. Trained wolves and guards shouted behind you, and through the fear of being imprisoned, there was the arousal. The situation had only happened a few times, but each time there’d been that undercurrent that you couldn’t deny. The pleasure that pulsed through you with every stretch of your legs.

The idea of being caught, and made to do whatever they wished. As their prisoner. As their game. You swapped the guards for the night kissed wind of them, their presence, both them hunting you instead.

“Keep what you catch.” Was a phrase hunters used in the most desperate of times. Were they desperate enough?

“Criminal.” Rhys purred in approval. He passed the image to Azriel, who hissed and looked to you with surprise in his eyes. “Filthy thing-” He cursed.

+

Rhys summoned a set of wooden swords from a pocket of air, disturbing the chill breeze that rolled through the valley. The sun shone down on the trees, but did not reach the forest floor. The pines swayed and whispered, making serene music where you stood with them.

“You’ll need to break away from us first.” Rhys explained, twirling the sword from one hand to the other, testing the balance.

“If you manage to get a necklace from either of us, we’ll delay our pursuit by five minutes.” You looked to the long corded stone at his chest, the color of it nearly black. It shimmered with something, though. Azriels was more straightforward, a deep red jasper that he pulled from beneath his leathers. At the same time, Rhys shook the potion that he’d been determined to show off with. The one you’d jokingly suggested he should get to prevent him cheating in this endavor. It was to keep him from winnowing, apparently.

“I’m taking you both on?” Your voice rose with protest.

“Not yet-” Azriel muttered with a grin.

“Your choice who you’d like to face first.” Rhys said cordially.

You swung the sword, the weight of it unfamiliar and clunky in your hand.

Your eyes narrowed, and you pointed the tip to Rhys. “You’ll be first.”

He squared himself, taking up an expert fighting stance. Once he nodded, you ran at him.

This was only for show. He parried your strike easily, knocking the weapon to the ground beside him. You raised your hands in defense, then shot out at him with your mind - spearing him with the filthiest mental images you’d conjured over the last few months. He stuttered a step, freezing in place with his eyes wide. You struck, ripping the necklace from him and taking off into the trees while Azriel cackled behind you.

+++++++++

The blood was rushing in your ears, your legs singing with the effort of each step. The slickness in your cunt coudln’t be denied. You embraced it, finally able to accept that you did enjoy this. Running from males that would do exactly what they wanted to you. It sent a shiver through you before, but now… Knowing that they wouldn’t bring you true harm - it made you stumble more than a few times.

Rhys had planned this well. He’d taken you to a well of a valley floor, knowing you’d have to climb to get out. It’d give them a better shot at finding you faster. As the trees became thinner, the groundcover got thicker. Ferns and wiry shrubs reached out to whip your pumping arms and tangle in your hair.

You didn’t have to fight through it for long. Their trained breaths were behind you in only a few minutes, but you were determined to make it to the rushing water you heard ahead.

“You wont make it far.” Rhy’s voice bounced off the trees.

You kept running. Their laughing was upon you in moments, and you jolted to a stop before a wide, rushing stream. You’d nearly fallen in, your shoes even soaked with the groundwater that lapped at the shore.

Arms were around your midsection, whipping you around and attempting to trip you to the ground. You stood with wide footing though, and kicked back against the male - struggling against him with a ferocity that he didn’t expect. Rhys grunted, and Azriel was no longer laughing.

They took their roles seriously. It made your stomach flip, a wild - feral smile spreading across your face at Azriel holding a knife before you while he watched you fight against Rhys’s hold. “Stop now and make this easier.” Azriel’s voice was firm, commanding.

Rhys managed to pin your arms behind you, and you found yourself unable to kick back against him without losing what balance you had. Azriel stepped forward, knife extended to rest at your throat. His knckles met your collarbone, just above where that branding mark was. The heat of him sent your body alight even more. Rhys’s scent spiked with arousal and you couldn’t help but grind back against the bulge behind you.

Azriel’s hand went to your trousers pocket, digging in there with a few fingers, slowly, teasingly - cocking his head to the side when your jaw clenched. Rhys was breathing heavily behind you, and not from their run through the forest.

Az pulled the necklace free, and tutted his tongue disapprovingly. “Guess you like being up in that pillory, dont you?” He said teasingly. “Repeat criminals hardly ever change. Perhaps it’d be better if you saw a cell for a time-”

“I have money.” You gasped when Rhys placed something cold around your wrists.

“Stolen money’s no good to those who uphold the law of the night court.” Az drawled, and Rhys breathed a laugh at how true that was. Azriel was the one sent when something was to be dealt with. Rhys’s own personal bounty hunter. Azriel saw the connection being made. In this game, he suddenly became more than just a guard in his role, he was him. He was the Shadowsinger, sent to capture you. His eyes darkened, waiting for you to play along - to tell him exactly what you wanted.

“Are you willing to make a trade?” You panted, straining against whatever Rhys had placed on your wrists. He stood beside you now, holding you by the nape of the neck, his thumb tracing slow circles there - suggesting what was to come? Or playing up the corrupted guard role?

His knife trailed to your breast, pulling the low cut top away from your skin. His eyes went from your breasts to your eyes, and back again.

“I have what I came here for, thief. What more could I bother with from you?” Even with the sharp words, heat coursed through you. His knife pulled at the strap of your top, then let it snap back onto your skin. The scent of arousal was heavy now, thick and encouraging to the growing fire in your belly.

“I offer you myself, should you let me go free after.”

He bit down on a grin, then leaned in close, right beside Rhys when he said “Why would I barter when I can take what I want?”

The knife was gone, both his hands instead going to bend you to his will. One hand pulled you forward at the lower back, the other went straight to cup your pussy through your pants, the heel of his palm grinding down on to you.

A surprised cry came from your lips, but it was consumed by his lips on yours. His tongue was aggressive and immediate, forcing his way into your mouth, tasting you there, as he palmed against your clit. your hips flexed to meet him, and there was another set of hands at your breast, cutting your shirt free.

+

Rhys should have been appalled with himself. This was disgusting, horrid behavior but-

He couldn’t dispute the way Azriel’s aggression made his cock harden. How her helpless cries and half-attempts at getting away from Az made Rhys want to restrain her even more and force his cock down her throat until she choked on it.

He took a shuddering, uneven breath and reminded himself that this was what she’d wanted.

‘The more aggression the better.’ She’d said with a devious wink when going over safewords and off limits ideas.

So, Rhys took out the back of her knees, forcing her to fall before Azriel. The shadowsinger gripped the back of her head, and forced her face into the front of his pants, grinding his clothed dick over her cheek in a humiliating way. Degrading and so, so fucking hot. Rhys bit his lip at the sight of it. She attempted to pull back, but it only earned a yank of the hair, a warning to behave.

Rhys was out of his clothes quickly, the pine needles beneath his feet hardly registering against the surge of heat that swelled in him. Gods, his cock ached. It was only thanks to the potion he'd taken that there was a chase at all. If it were any less potent he likely would have ended up winnowing right in front of you before you'd crested the hill.

He gave himself a pump, then another before taking over, wrenching her face away from Azriel and pushing his slickened head to her lips. With her hands still bound, she had no defense aside from the way she pursed them together.

“Difficult thing.” Rhys tisked, then pinched her nose shut. She began getting red in the face, and when Azriel was done undressing, she’d run out of breath. Her mouth opened in a gasp, which Rhys quickly took for his own.

The heated wetness around him had a surge of precome leaking from him with eagerness. “Fu-uuck-” He ground out the word, reveling in the perfection of her mouth a moment before pulling out, and fisting a hand in her hair. The sloppy wetness that dripped from her lips only encouraged him more. He shoved her down on him, his head tipping down the back of her throat and making her eyes water. Azriel grunted in approval, his cock twitching and his hips flexing forward Into his palm at the scene.

Azriel’s shadows were a thick, writhing mess around him, waiting to be used for something. He allotted them a task, setting them free upon her legs - to spread them, and to tear through the leggings she wore. Not completely off, but enough so he’d be able to fuck her through them - and to get a taste of the arousal he’d followed the entire run here.

+

Rhy’s dick was ryhmic enough that you knew when you could take a breath, when you could gulp down enough air to take his next few strokes. What you hadn’t been prepared for, was the way Azriel’s shadows spread you legs, making you completely unable to fight against them, or even stand if you wanted to.

You were fully at their mercy now, and it made you burn with that knowledge. Your pussy clamped around pathetic emptiness, Writhing with want.

Drool fell from your lips in thick rivers mixed with Rhys’s precome. Your senses told you that Azriel was still near, and that there was something cold on your ass, but you couldn’t see anything other than Rhys’s abdomen. He supported you fully, his hands in your hair keeping you from falling forward, but it also kept you blind to everything else. You attempted to lift a leg and kick backwards, but it only made you gag on his cock without the needed support of both legs.

He pulled free after that, glistening trails of spit coating him. Before you could fall forward, a hand was at the tie on your wrists, holding you upright. Rhys nodded, then there was a ripping sound, and the chill on your ass was gone. You sucked in a breath, and there was suddenly a towel before you, and Rhys was sitting. So close you could feel the heat radiating from him, you were lowered and lowered, until your cheek rested against his thigh, staring at his reddedned dick like a worshipper. There was no denying you were.

Azriel’s tongue was hot against your hole - probing, coating you with his spit. You arched, gasping in surprise but there was nowhere you could move, your head rolled to one side, so you could bite down on Rhys’s thigh, but it didn’t keep Azriel from fucking your ass. His tongue darted over it again and again, working you open slowly - your surprised gasps turned into needy moans, the stimulation making you a living fire. You could feel the wetness soaking your leggings, and you wondered how large of a wet spot appeared there.

“Put your mouth to use.” Rhys grunted, his tone almost angry. He lifted your head and guided you to his cock, his ass flexing - gods he needed this, badly. Your mind buzzed with the satisfatiction of it. Though you were bent at their will, you were driving them mad.

Azriel’s managed to work two fingers into your ass before trailing hid tongue downward, using the flat of his tongue against your slickened pussy. His fingers pumped deep, flexing outwards to stretch your hole. It was a sweet thing, tender though the situation did not call for it. They’d given you plenty of toys to train for just this.

He hummed at the taste of you, at the heat and need he could sense building in you. Your pussy clenched around his tongue. “Filthy thing-” He said to himself, the sharp crack of one of his hands landing on your asscheek.

Rhys pulled your mouth from him, and you fell forward, lifting enough so that you could press against his chest instead of his thigh - a small rebellion, you could only do so much now. He shimmied down, so he could be below you and line up with your slick folds. You groaned when his tip pressed eagerly into your slit, rocking back against him as much as you could with your legs as exhausted as they were. Was this the real reason they’d had your starting point be downhill?

The heat of Azriel’s cock joined, also pressing into your pussy. A swell of fear threatened to overtake you, then. There was no way you could take them both-

Rhys sucked in a breath, and he scooted down a bit farther, so your head rested against his collarbone now. His cock pressed at your ass, and your eyes rolled back.

Azriel knew he wouldn’t last long. Not with her being so fucking compliant in this - He forced himself to focus, willing his need to dampen for a moment. He guided Rhys’s cock to the hole he’d worked first, pumping his high lord’s cock with his saliva - coating him with spit before pressing the rounded tip to her hole. The sound she made had his body rolling, uncontrollably thrusting forward into the air like a godsdamned animal.

He now wished he’d taken Rhys’s offer and had the male suck him off earlier in the day.

Rhys blew out a breath as he sunk in, deeper and deeper, until he couldn’t move much more. Only about half of him was fully seated, but it was more than enough. Azriel could tell by now what her desperate signs were for when she was close, and he was glad he wasn’t the only one overstimulated and ready to cum.

“Taking him so fucking good.” He praised in her ear, brushing the hair to one side so he could see her expression. “Gonna fill you up, make you both of ours.” He was muttering, when she rolled her hips and the tip of him brushed her heated folds. His hand cracked across her ass again, drawing a strangled groan from Rhys.

Azriel smirked. He knew how she tightened up when she had her ass smacked. The high lord’s eyes smoldered, and Azriel caught him in a quick, wet kiss before leaning back and taking his own cock into his hand.

He rubbed his tip against your folds, slickening himself. “This is what happens to thieves in the Night Court.” He smiled, then thrust into you in one long, smooth motion. Your body arched, toes curling inside your boots as he bottomed out. Full. So fucking full and still, desire demanded your attention. The fire was not dulling, like it normally did after one of them entered you - no, it seemed to grow even more aggressive. A flame that kept spreading, throughout your thighs and into your belly, the warmth spread and the need of them both - for more made your teeth gnash together.

The thin wall that separated their cocks from each other had you rocking back onto them both, earning what fractions of inches you could. Rhys adjusted, his hips flexing upwards to give you more, but it still wasn’t enough.

Some mental communication passed from him to Rhys, and your arms were free, your shoulders singing in pain as they were wrenched forwards, then re-tied in front of you. Rhys lifted them, then brought your hands around the back of his neck. Still just as trapped as before, only now you could at least support yourself.

It was a blessing. You rocked back into every one of Azriel’s thrusts, earning whispered filth from his lips. The wet sound of your pussy around him filled the forest, along with your breathy moans. Gods, with Rhys so paitenetly nudging into you, and with Azriel fucking you with such ferocity… your muscles quivered, earning hesitation and sharp hisses from them both.

You still had some power, here.

+

His shaft rubbed with Rhys’s making him even more needy than he’d anticipated. His knot was swelling quickly, every instinct in him yearning to spill inside of her- to lock his knot in place and fuck her through her orgasms upon it.

Watching Rhys’s small thrusts into her ass was not an option. He’d looked down once already and nearly came from the sight of it. So instead he watched the high lord, and the back of her gorgeous hair. He watched the way her body would flex and roll, then squeeze down on them.

His knot was catching already, and Rhys could tell. The high lord glanced from her to the shadowsinger. “Take her, make her come.” He encouraged. The mental image of the three of them appeared, Rhys filling her mouth with Azriel locked inside her pussy.

“Not the plan-” Azriel ground out, forcing his desire to lessen. He focused instead on the sound of the brook that she’d nearly ran into. He wanted to fill her, to fuck her ass and her pussy together until cum dripped from both holes and-

“Azriel - I won’t cum. Not now, anyway. Fuck her right.” The husky words were all his willpower could stand. He grunted, buiting the inside of his cheek and pulled his cock free from the sodden leggings he’d ripped. Her gasp and protest had his ego soaring.

Rhys worked himself free of her ass, and from around her bound arms. He spat in his palm, and began stroking himself, his knot hardly formed. Azriel felt a pang of jealously at the male’s control, the restraint he had.

Without your arms bound, and with their hesitation at what to do next, you took it as an opportunity. You sung your arms around, forming them into fists, and nearly caught Azriel in the head with them - but a thick tentacle of shadow halted you.

He struck an instant later. One hand on your collarbone,he shoved you back onto the pokey forest floor, and you clambored against him. The shadow locked your arms above your head, but it didn’t deter your fight.

You brought your knees to your chest and pushed at him, though he pressed down on you with the mass of his muscle. One hand was all it took to pin you to the floor, you’d make sure he’d have to fight more than that.

“Vicious theif-” He grunted with the knee you threw to his ribs,but it’d been your folly. With his other hand, he brought a leg up so it was flush against his chest, your foot resting beside his ear.. You couldn’t kick him away now, but you didn’t want to. You’d wanted this - wanted the fight, wanted to see what lengths he’d take to get to your pussy.

He hadn’t disappointed. He gripped both your legs and pulled them tight to his chest, raising your ass off the ground. He swiped the tip of his cock over your clit, rubbing deliciously. Your hips rolled. Thankfully, he wasn’t a male of vengeance - not now anyway. He entered you, and resumed the same pace he’d had before. Long, dragging strokes that had your ass clapping against his thighs.

Your folds were tighter in this position, and the stretch it brought seared through you. Your body was capable, but this was a position that had you seeing stars. Your body ached to cum, but you held off. This was supposed to last longer.

Rhys joined, kneeling at your side to dip between your pressed thighs. You pulled at the restraints, testing the shadows above your head. They did not budge. Your walls squeezed him, and his eyes squeezed shut. “I’m-” You panted, not wanting to admit that you were close.

“Good. I’m not gonna cum until you do first, sweetheart.” Azriels words rang true, You could feel how much his knot had swollen from your struggle, and a delightful purr of ecstasy filled you. You’d definitely be getting punished more in the future.

Azriel’s cock rammed into you, he flicked his hips forward and up at that perfect angle that he knew would set you off. Your legs shook, wetness dribbling down to your ass with every thrust. “That’s right..” Rhys purred, his fingers leaving your clit to play with himself instead.

You didn’t need his fingers. Not with Azriel fucking you like this, with every stroke brutally pushing into your most sensitive spot- hot white pleasure surged through you. His knot pressed at your entrance, stretching your lips apart with each re-entry.

In this position, your tight heat was already something that had him barely hanging on, and it had him more impatient than he’d ever been. He’d said he wouldn’t cum yet. He couldn’t. So he fucked into you with stokes he knew would have you begging, getting you to the edge in record time. He could tell from the way your cheeks heated, from how red your lips were - and from the deadly way your pussy gripped at the base of his knot. He swore. Every stroke became harder to remain in control.

A scarred hand went to your throat, gently pressing there - control. Control and power and you were nothing but theirs -his- Azriel’s plaything. A fucktoy for him- Your mind spiraled, overtaken by the inferno inside of you.

Your insides spasmed around him, a gush of hot liquid gushing from your pussy. The knife’s edge of pleasure. The precipice of a violent orgasm held you for a moment, then rocked through you. You trembled, pleasure consuming everything, setting your very bones alight with the exquisite orgasm. So intense and burning that your sight was lost from you for the first few moments.

Azriel’s knot came back along with your vision, amplifying the pleasure to an extent you could barely register as you quivered around him, squeezing him tight inside of you. The panting, shuddering breathing, the tight hold he had on your thighs as he spilled into you had you squirming again, your wrecked body contending for another orgasm, even while the waves of your first careened through you.

His cum filled you, hoarse moans falling from his lips as he still fucked into you. The small movements of his swollen knot inside urging that second round of pleasure through you.

Rhys was swearing darkly, his own knot more formed than before now. You couldn’t help but smile at that. Azriel’s hands shook when he parted your legs. You let them fall behind him, knees hooking weakly around him. He lifted your hips and fucked you softly, his knot pulling at your entrance like he knew you enjoyed.

He rode you through six more orgasms before he’d softened enough to pull free. After, Rhys had devoured your sensitive clit, earning double digits before the golden sunset painted the trees a fiery orange.

“We should go soon.” You muttered, breathless with both of them lying at either side of you.

“Shut up.” Rhys said, voice hoarse as he fingered you - slickening your clit with the remnants of Azriel’s cum.

+

You’d borrowed a coat from Azriel, seeing how they’d torn yours during your frenzied, handsy encounter.

The walk to the nearest town had made your already trembling legs even weaker, but you’d made it without too much whining. Rhys was still unable to winnow, the potion you’d challenged him to take still in his bloodstream.

The first scent of food hit you hard. Your mouth watered at the smell of buttered and fried goods. The gnawing hunger in your gut whined. The way they had you working for them was proving to be a huge calorie deficit, and you were starved.

“Ill find us something subtle.” Azriel said simply, then he was gone - sucked into the shadows that lingered outside the town.

“Let’s get you something nice.” Rhys smiled, his eyes grazing over you with a predator’s insight. Your tights had been something of a display once they were done with you, and the only thing saving you from looking like a hired whore was the length of Azriel’s coat covering your bottom.

+

“What in the name of the Mother are you wearing?” Azriel’s clipped tone revealed near anger, and your cheeks heated with the eyes that darted towards you.

The place he’d chosen was a busy, dark and shambled thing. Easy to be lost in, perfect for your party. To be expected from the Shadowsinger. What you hadn’t expected was the way his cheeks went bright at the sight of you. The low cut tunic and leather pants weren’t unusual in this area, but them being skin tight drew more than just your partners eyes.

“It was all they had.” You provided simply.

“And doesnt she look delectable?” Rhys encouraged, his eyes barely leaving your body to look to Azriel.

The shadowsinger stood silent, stoic as a statue for a moment before sitting back in the horseshoe shaped booth. You sat between them, at the apex and looked over the menu.

Rhys laughed suddenly, and Azriel snarled. You looked up, to the windows and scanned the crowd. The fae at the table beside the window hid behind their coats and drinks. You looked to Rhys, puzzled.

“He doesn’t like the other males looking.” he explained.”I think it’s admirable. Who could help themselves, with you looking like that?”

“She’s not for them.” Azriel growled, making your stomach flip. The look on his face promised violence.

You reached over, gripping his muscled thigh. “It’s alright.” You promised, circling your fingers low there, tracing the seam of his leathers up and up until he caught your hand in his.

He let out a breath, his head tipping back. The menu in his other hand grew wrinkled marks from where he gripped it. “Easy.” He warned. Rhys grinned, and shifted closer to you.

The criminal in you delighted at his reaction. Once he let go of your hand, you idly browsed the menu, using it as a distraction before pacing your hand back on his leg, inching upwards in small, sneaky motions until resting at his hip, only a few inches away from the buttons of the trousers he wore.

Rhys took your other hand once the server had taken your orders, and was not discreet in the way he placed it directly atop the hardness in his pants. You sucked in a breath, and he didn’t even bother to look at you. You pressed down on him, squeezing him rhythmically. Azriel’s own member responded, twithinching beneath the cloth.

“Greedy, filthy… delectable thing.” Rhys mind-spoke, his tone a purr that had your thighs squeezing together tight.

There was a splash of liquid, the clattering of drinks and cold wetness covered your shoulder, running down your chest. The bar quieted, then picked back up an instant later. You sat up in shock, avoiding the water that covered your seat. The server was apologizing, but you could only hear the muttered swearing coming from Rhys.

His eyes were locked on to your soaked breasts, the heat there immeasurable.

The world turns black and silver in a breath, the table is shattered, knocked to the ground outside your booth and Rhys is before you, his head going to your top and palming the fabric, hid tongue going to the lap at the wetness on your skin st your breast.

Your breasts fall out of the top easily as Rhys unlaces the front. There are gasps, the sound of chairs being moved and laughs all around. None of it matters. Rhys’s hot mouth is the only thing your mind can narrow in on.

The servers’ apologies go silent, and there is a low rumbling of voices and shouts that you can pay no attention to, not as Azriel is gripping the back of your head and forcing his tongue into your mouth. His tongue goes from slow and tender to quick and demanding, forcing your own tongue to still in your mouth as he explores.

The pleasure of Rhys’s mouth on your nipples is something that has your weakend legs shaking. Once the laces are loosened, he pulls the top up over your head, his eyes wild with need as he consumes you in his own hot, desperate kiss that has you rolling your body into his.

Azriel is gone for a moment, and Rhys is turning you, pushing you back until your legs hit something solid - the window table. When you open your eyes, the crowd that had been closest is now watching you, hungry looks in their eyes.

The fear and shame gripped you for a moment, and you covered your chest. “Rhys we should-”

“They’ll deal with it.” He growled. “Most of them enjoy this kind of entertainment, they’re lucky we’re not changing them. Consider it a donation.” He said in that high lord’s arrogant voice that you’ve come to know.

The curtains fall over the fogged windows,, opaque and filled with holes, smelling of dust and stained. While Rhys consumes you in another kiss, Azriel appears at your side again, his face flushed. His hands are on your thighs, petting you, rubbing his hands across the too-tight trousers and fisting a hand in the cloth. He guides you to sit atop the table, where Rhys kneels before you.

His fingers hook around the belt loops of the pants. “Off, this time.” He commands, his tone giving no room for debate. You comply, using his shoulders to lift yourself off the table enough to let them see you - to let the entire bar see you fully.

Azriel is stripping off as well, unashamed by the looks the strangers give him. None of them bad, mostly admiring. Some of the crowd even begin touching themselves, rubbing and stroking over their clothes as Rhys takes his first lick of you.

His tongue moves slowly, and thoroughly on your clit - lapping at you with a tenderness that had your mind going to a much more leisurely place. He rolls, flicks and kisses there like a male without another purpose. He has you arching up, grinding to him within only a few minutes.

Azriel strokes himself at the same pace as Rhysand’s movements, the two of them matching pace like they weren’t surrounded by others watching. You turn your head to take Azriel into your mouth, but he denys you this. He takes your hand instead, having you stroke him while he watches the crowd. In part, he’s looking for threats, any that would dare to interrupt them - another part because he enjoyed the way the strangers stared, desire and envy filling their gazes.

Rhys’s fingers enter you, then pause, he plays with you at the entrance, noting what movements make you squirm and buck. He loves this. He revels in these moments where his patience isn’t worn so thin. He doesn’t want to have you fully on display, though. Not now. He’d rather have you screaming for him on his own bed.

So he thrusts his fingers deep inside you and curls them, angling in that spot that Azriel is able to brush against with the tip of his cock - but it’s never this firm. It’s never as intense and mind-splitting as either of their fingers are. It ignites a new flurry of need inside of you so quickly, and they know it. It forces you from being moderately turned on to nearly cumming in their hands in moments, and knowing that, they abuse it.

They flick at that spot with brutal efficiency, knowing exactly when to stop because your legs begin to shake with the force of the beginning of the orgasm they build. They’re cruel brutes, but you’d never had better sex. Maybe having someone brutal was a requirement after being with them. If you’d ever need anyone else.

He pulls his fingers out, and puts them to your lips, your wetness tart and sweet against your tongue.. You take them greedily, sucking them clean and playing with his fingers just how you would their cocks. It always drives them mad, and you know it. Unstable heat courses through your body, your legs trembling, hooking around Rhys’ hips with the urging, pulsing demands of an orgasm.

But he holds his fingers there in your mouth, pinning your mouth open, and nods to Azriel. He steps closer, and slides his cock into your mouth while Rhys restraints you open.

The order is clear enough, and you don’t attempt to close your lips around the shadowsinger. Control. Rhys and Azriel are always battling for control in their own ways. Something about it turns all of you on so incredibly - the proof of the fact apparent in the taste of Azriel’s thick precome. The tip of his cock rubs against the back of your tongue a few times, coating him with your spit, and Rhys finally relents and allows your jaw free from his grasp. You take Azriel into your mouth, moaning at the sensation - the weight of him there.

Rhys nudges into your pussy while you’re sucking Azriel, and there’s distant curses and hisses of pleasure. Coats fall to the floor, and you’re pretty sure you hear others moaning as they begin fucking as well.

Azriel pulls away, leaving dribble on your mouth when he does. He steps back and gets atop the table behind you, his cock hanging heavy right above your head.

Your legs pull Rhys in much faster than he was intending on, and because of this, his eyes go wide, his lips pull back from his teeth in a growl. He holds down your hip with a hard, bruising hand while his other goes to your neck - pinning you in place. “You’re mine, and I’ll take you how I please.” He growls out, leaning down to say it right into your ear.

Your body melts, relaxing fully to his control - to the demands he’s placed. A part of you wants to rebel, to kick at him and see just how far he’d take this, but the other part of you says that he’d likely not let you cum if you questioned him now. Not in front of these people. Even if they didn’t realise that he was their high lord, he would not be undermined in this moment.

“Yes sir.” You said voice strained around his light hold, giving him a coy grin when he pulled away to look at your face.

His cock surged, tipping up inside you and making your hips roll as much as they could. You wanted to fold your legs together, to have him fuck you how Azriel did earlier because this - this was too much restraint, too much easy and slow fucking for what your desire reqired.

Your insides were soaked, gushing with need and he was here taking you as if you were his bride. You whined low in your throat, wanting to squirm and have him fuck you.

You close your eyes, no matter how much you love seeing Azriel above you, all the movement from the crowd is growing distracting and you need to focus on feeling. The way Rhys’s cock slides in and out of you with perfect, wet slaps. The way he pulls out to the tip, solid and heavy and teasing at your entrance, before slipping right back in. The crowd echos your moans, growing louder with each thrust.

Rhys feels Like a god in this position. He pounds into her so sweetly that it barely rocks the table. The feral sounds she's making are a symphony of yearning and hunger. He can't stand the slow pace, his knot is already halfway engorged and he has little patience left for the power game he plays.

He slides you down off the table, leaving your hips supported only by the strength of his hands. You curl your legs around him, pulling him in deeper and -gods, a shocked gasp leaves you at the size of his knot as your movement forces it in and deep. He angles his hips foward, and his control is gone. He pulls out, and shoves back in in quick, wild thrusts. You cry out, hands reaching for anything to grip on to while a pre-orgasm hits you, making your walls quiver around him in strange pulses.

You reach for the edge of the table, but Azriel’s hand catches yours instead. He twines his fingers through yours, never backing down from the way you squeezed his hand tight. “As much as I want to hear you…” He mutters, then his cock is at your lips, and you suck at him greedily, moaning around his length and gripping his thigh with your free hand. Your nails bite into his skin there, but it only heightens his pleasure.

Your heels spur Rhys on, and in his fervor he knows hes losing control. He also knows that he still can’t winnow, and that he’s about to cum and lock you together with him so tightly that you wont be able to leave for a long while after this. He knows he should stop, that he should at the very least pull out to cum on you.

But all the knowledge in the world couldn’t keep him from being a worshiper to your body - to this blessed pussy and glorious mouth and- His knot locks in place, and he has only a few more shallow thrusts within the range of his motion before he’s seeing nothing, feeling nothing but the hot pressure of his release and the pussy clamping on his cock, milking the orgasm from him. The tension finally released, and the rest coming like waves off of a mountainside.

Your body convulses, hips bucking forward and writhing on Rhys’s knot the moment it settles deep inside you. He’s bowing his head, hunching forward and rocking into you as much as he can and Azriel pulls free from your mouth, his own knot getting too wide for your mouth towards the end.

Then, you feel the dribbling heat of Rhys’s cum spilling inside you, and something inside your own body responds with eager pride and takes a hold of you. Your body is twitching around him, taking his cock and squeezing it so tightly that it has your entrance stretching almost painfully. You’re building up to an immense release when Azriel’s swearing, then cumming on your neck and chest, thick streams of it landing even at your hipbone. Rhys is there quickly, lapping at the spots of it on your breast.

White molten heat explodes inside you, your orgasm pulsing through every vein, tendon - you can practically feeling it hum your very bones. You’ve been flung from a precipice you didn’t realise how hard you held on to. You were in freefall, and hitting every single cloud of mind-rocking pleasure was possible.

His member doesn’t soften, doesn’t relent during your waves of ecstasy. He fucks into you as much as he can, re gripping your hips in his hands and rolling forward, his own body shaking. His mouth goes from Azriel’s cum to your nipple, biting there, rolling the peak with his tongue. The stimulation is overwhelming, and you dig your fingers into his back.

“Fucking incredible.” one of them sighs. You can’t tell who, everything is distant and fuzzy as the waves of orgasm pummel you.

You’re exhausted by the time they recede, and by then Azriel has pulled on a pair of pants and has been petting your hair for some amount of time.

A male approaches from the crowd, holding his cock that jutted through the seam of his trousers. He’s handsome, and smiles at you hungirly. “I’ll take her next.” He says, confidence radatinging out of him.

Azriel’s eyes go wide, and he stands to face off with the male. There is clearly challenge in his poise, but the male seems to pay no mind. “Or I’ll take you. Either way-”

Azriel has a wicked shadow, curved like a knife in his hand in the next breath. “You will die b-”

Rhys groans, and pulls a blanket of darkness over the three of you, and you’re falling upon the familiar bedspread of the townhome. The smells are comforting, homey and make sleep impossible to avoid.

“Don't-” Rhys pants softly, his knot still swollen and throbbing inside of you. “Threaten someone when I can’t even get my dick free.” He lays his head on your chest, pulling Azriel down to lay with the two of you.

A warmth radiates on your lower abdomen a few minutes later. When you go to protest another round of sex, you find that it's Azriel, gently massaging the oil from the healer into your skin.

#acotar fic #azriel x reader #reader x azriel #reader insert #reader x rhysand #rhysand x reader #reader x rhys #rhys x reader #abo fic #abo themes #abo #alpha beta omega #alpha beta omega fic #alpha beta omega themes #rhysand #azriel #shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses fanfic #a court of thorns fic

[bird-likes-art]

Had to get this idea out there. How would omega collars work? I see them in so many fics and I’ve always pictured dog/cat collars but that wouldn’t work! Hannah Adams ticktock put this idea in my head today and wow it’s been on my mind constantly!

#abo #alpha beta omega #fanart #mating bond #mating bites #character design #character art #gonna post this as anonymously I guess #I had to get this thought out but idk if people I know irk can know about this #so that being said #hope anyone who sees this enjoys! #Hannah Adams #video a few days ago put this idea in my head and wow! #my eyes have been opened! #never gonna read a collar fic the same way again #alpha beta omega dynamics #omegaverse #omega #omega collar #collars #collar #tho really where is everyone assuming they bite? i always assumed it was more trap than jugular #but maybe that was just me? #idk #my art

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️18+: PINING, LOTS OF IT. Sexual tension, drinking, drinking game, sexual talk

wc: 8.2K

A/N: i can't apologize enough for taking so long. So much happened last month, and I realized I am not capable of having two jobs.

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

Taglist is closed

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CHAPTER 15

“So? You and Nance? Are you guys official or?”

You took a bite out of your sandwich, as you and Robin sat in your office’s cafeteria. All your coworkers were chatting away, laughing, some stressed while still making phone calls, but those were departments you would never think of doing yourself in your life. Sales. Recruiting. You’re glad you have the editor job because the work pressure is not huge, but it is very important and has to be done perfectly.

“I mean it’s been, what, a month? I still think it’s too soon…” Robin sighed as she took a bite out of her pasta. You gulped your food down, taking a long sip of your diet coke, looking at your best friend who had a sad look on her face.

“But you guys are exclusive to each other already.” You commented because that’s what she had indeed told you two weeks ago. She told you that Nance and her, established that they are only hooking up with each other, no one else. 

“Yeah I know, but we’re just having sex, and it’s fun!” You could see the forced smile on your friend’s face and you giggled as she sighed in defeat, slumping back down on her seat.

“Yeah, but you don’t want just the fun Robs. What are you afraid of?” And Robin kept her gaze on her plate, twirling the pasta on the plastic below, not lifting it up to take a bite. You knew why she was scared, she didn’t really need to tell you.

“It started like that with Vickie. What if it happens again? What if I… misinterpret things?  Again?” You sighed at that, reaching out to hold her hand in yours in a reassuring manner.

“I can tell that you are not Robs… Nance gets all giggly when you kiss her cheek… I think she is waiting for you to make the move.” At your words, Robin just squeezed your hand with a small smile on her face. “It will be okay, I promise.”

“If I end up heartbroken, I’m coming for your ass.” You laughed as you let go of her hand, resting back in your chair. 

“You won’t. And you have to remember, Eddie’s best friend’s with Nancy and–”

“And you talk to him almost every fucking day now, and so you have information.”

You frowned at that with a pout on your lip. Robin wasn’t saying that with venom. She was saying it to tease you really. She found it amusing how quickly you and Eddie turned your relationship from hate to almost an unbreakable friendship. 

“I– We don’t talk every day.” And as if on cue, your phone vibrated, a small ting sound informing you that you had been sent something and Robin only rolled her eyes with a shake of her head. “It might be someone else.”

“Really? Open it.”

You winced at your best friend’s order. You knew it was him. You knew he was probably sending you an update on his employee Gareth and how he is freaking out because he thinks Jeff is flirting with him… when it’s all a made-up joke between Eddie and Jeff.

You told him many times to quit it, that Gareth would end up scarred because of it, but Eddie dismissed it because he pranked him once as well, never telling you with what. You assumed Eddie just made a fool out of himself, that’s why he promised to never say a word to you about that.

You slowly raised your phone and unblocked to see Eddie’s message pop up. You took a deep breath in, showing the screen to Robin, only for her to scoff and roll her eyes. You looked back at the screen and it was a message from him reminding you that he has to take a look at the oil tank of your car.

“It’s just about my car.” You excused yourself with that, even though you knew that you two don’t talk just about that. Yesterday he told you that his uncle managed to get up from bed after many days of being unable to do so. The other day you told him about a great orange deal you found around the corner of your apartment building.

But it’s just trivial stuff. They’re just friendly things… but you linger on his Instagram stories.

The ones where he takes in front of the mirror, the ones where he is showing something in his car shop, maybe a wrench, and you can see the inked forearm and hand, veins popping out. And you especially linger on those shirtless selfies he takes in his mirror or when he wears his overalls at his shop with Gareth and Jeff, the top never buttoned, his inked chest at full display.

He is handsome, that’s all there is to it. Your friend is handsome, and he probably takes those pictures to get women to like them so he can have the opportunity to message them and take them out. It’s just that. You have taken a few yourself to try to do the same with all hookups, and you met with Lara again, as well as Jeremy. 

You weren’t really into it. You noticed it since you broke up with Henry and divorced him, that something kind of changed. You felt pleasure, you certainly did… but you never felt complete. It was something you could hardly explain, but you shrugged it off as a weird feeling and that’s it. You loved sex with Billy, but it was because you liked Billy mostly. 

Physically? You were never full.

“Right, whatever. So, today Friday, still on to go to Eddie’s?” Robin said as she took a bite out of her pasta and you nodded at that, replying back to Eddie that you can take the car on Monday for the check-up. It would be the first time you would see Eddie’s home. He told you he lives right above the shop, and it’s kind of like a loft.

His shop is wide, so you can guess just how big it is. But you can sort of imagine how it looks, and it filled you with some kind of excitement that was weird to explain. Maybe you just wanted to know more about your friend; knowing his house was the next step.

“Yeah, is everyone else going too?” You put the phone down and wiggled your eyebrows at your best friend. She bit her bottom lip with a smile on her face and shook her head.

“Yes, Nance is also going.” You giggled at her face becoming red and you looked up to see the TV above, a commercial popping up that made your smile drop completely. Robin frowned and turned around to look at what you were seeing.

Billy Hargrove announcing a GUCCI perfume.

“Guess he got signed to another publicity company.” You murmured and looked back down. In all honesty, you had moved on from Billy and your friends helped a lot with that. They took you out and the hookups you had also made everything go a little bit smoother, and it’s not like you forgot and were done with… the strong feeling of love never got to build.

Your dislike for him only grew when he was interviewed about betas, same-sex marriage, and adoption, and he said he was all for it, with a smile on his face. It made you mad, it made you feel disgusted that you had a relationship with someone like that. That also helped to destroy that yearning you still had for him, it immediately disappeared just like magic.

“Not our problem anymore, nor yours.” And you knew Robin was trying to cheer you up, but because if Billy’s real personality came out into the light, your company would be targeted, you would all have to make a statement that as soon as you found out his ideals, you dropped him and the contract.

“I know… Okay, what do I have to bring today?”

You didn’t dress much, just some black pants, a white blouse, a little flowy, hem tucked in your pants, you arrived at Eddie’s shop with Robin and Steve, you being the designated driver of the night if it decides to head into a drunken one. 

“The stairs are on the back.” Steve said and guided you both around the shop, your coat keeping you warm in the cold night as Robin rambled about the game she brought for the night. She has been here before, you being the only one in the group to actually see his place for the very first time.

Steve walked up the stairs, which was one flight and you could see the window of his office, and then up another flight of stairs, the metal clinking under your boots at each step you took, and Steve entered a small entryway, very small, like a cove, his feet standing over a mat. 

You blinked in awe at how big his fucking home is. You always thought that this was kind of like a warehouse attic, but no. It had always been his home. Windows were all around and you are just now realizing all the warm lights that lit the inside. Steve knocked on the door and you gripped the beer pack in your hands. You heard murmuring on the other side and then loud boots echoing as they approached the door.

The door swung open to reveal Eddie, burgundy t-shirt on, almost tight to the body, inked arms on display, as well as tattoos that littered around his neck. His hair was in a low bun, stubble on his chin, and you kind of felt your breath hitch in your throat. You were looking at him over Steve’s shoulder, and Eddie’s eyes landed on yours, and for a second you felt a shiver run down your spine, something that has been happening a lot recently… more than you liked.

“Welcome to my coven.” And just like that he moved to the side to let you all in, the warmth of his place invading the three of you, a sigh of relief coming out of each of your lips and you already wanted to take your coat off. You looked around and… it was certainly an industrial loft like you see in those New York movies. Brick walls, the kitchen on a corner, a wide living room, a black leather couch with a coffee table in the middle, and a wider 55” TV in front. 

You also spotted a lot of 80’s rock posters that were put into frames, making them more stylish. An electric guitar next to the TV was standing there, an amp right next to it. You spotted a library as well, and you will snoop into it later just like he did back at your own place. Then you saw the door that was a bit opened, and it was a very nice full bathroom.

And on the other side, you saw some stairs leading up to another part of the home, and you could guess his bedroom was up there. He lived in a better place than you, and… his style was impeccable, so of course that was the first thing you blurted out. 

“Holy shit, I really thought this would be a mess knowing you.” And you now noticed thanks to their laughter that Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle were all sitting on the couch and on top of the wide black fluffy rug below, their drinks sitting on the coffee table that’s in the middle.

“Yeah well, it was. Everything was so mismatched.” Nancy replied and then Steve snorted behind you as he walked towards the kitchen to put the snacks on the island counter and you followed to place the six-pack on the black marble.

“I helped too… This guy has no taste in interior design.” He said and you laughed loudly at that, nodding.

“Now, that makes so much more sense.” “You all fuckers know I’m here, right?” You heard Eddie right behind you, a shiver all over your nape at how low the voice sounded to your ears. Was it always that low? You giggled to hide the nerves and the knots appearing in your stomach, taking your coat off and turning around to face him, handing the fabric to him.

“Oh, I do know. What of it?” And Eddie rolled his eyes at you, snatching the coat off your hand to then turn and see Robin and Steve handing theirs to him with smirks on their face. “You know where to put them.” He said it with anger, yet he grabbed their jackets and went to hang them on his coat rack. You ripped your eyes away from his waist, which caught your attention by the movement and the jingle of his metal belt. You turned to start opening up your six-pack, taking the coronas out, grabbing one for yourself, only for it to be snatched by a ringed and tattooed hand.

“Hey!” You were about to turn your head only for lips to slam against your cheek. Your body heated up by a hundred, to a temperature you haven’t felt in a while. You looked to your side and Eddie was intensely looking at you, and your heart skipped a beat. A cheshire grin spread on his face as he straightened up again, opening the beer for himself.

“Thanks, Peach.” And just like that, Eddie walked away and towards the couch. You turned your head to look at Steve and Robin who were chatting away, putting snacks in bowls, not even noticing what had just happened. 

Your heart was beating strongly, that much you knew, but Eddie was just a touchy person. You two are friends, that’s all you are. You sighed and grabbed another Corona, popping it open, before walking towards the circle of friends, sitting down on the rug next to Argyle, who had a goofy smile on his face as he bumped his shoulder against yours.

“So, how is my brochacha doing?” You smiled at your sweet friend, pressing a hand on his shoulder.

“I am doing good. How about you, my long-haired adonis?” 

“Hey!” You turned your head to see Eddie with a frown on his face and his hands up. You rolled your eyes at him, ran a hand through Argyle’s hair, and showed the ends to the other long-haired man in the room.

“This? Is taking care of the hair. You on the other hand have a rat’s nest.” And at your words, everyone almost spat anything that they were drinking, except for Eddie who simply squinted at you with fiery eyes. 

“I have curly hair, not silky one.” And Argyle threw his hair over his shoulder in a diva manner.

“I am the long-haired Adonis. Deal with it.” Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend but still chuckled loudly as he took a sip of his drink. Steve and Robin soon joined in, Robin sitting on a bean bag chair while Steve sat next to Jonathan, giving his boyfriend a smooch on the cheek in greeting. Your lip twitched upwards at the sight and then your eyes went towards Robin who was smiling while looking at Nancy who was blushing behind her glass.

That leaves three single people in the room. And to think you weren’t one of those a month ago, and now you are glad you are not anymore. Not with the wrong person. You took a long sip of your beer as your heart clouded, mind reeling in memories that do no good. Not now. 

A pair of brown eyes were looking at you and he straightened up, clearing his throat in a loud manner to make everyone, including you, look at him. Eddie looked at Robin, pointing at her.

“You said you bought a new drinking game.” He suddenly spat and Robin squealed, and she groaned when she realized she left her purse on the kitchen counter, getting ready to push herself up, but Nancy straightened up and stood up from the couch.

“I’ll get it!” She said contently and walked to the kitchen island to fetch Robin’s purse and you noticed how fondly your best friend was looking at the bright-eyed girl as she approached the group again and handed the purse to Robin.

“Thank you, baby.” And everyone in the room stilled. Nancy grew red, and Robin became mars. They were both stuttering and shit. You looked at Eddie who also looked at you with the same alarmed look on his face and you knew that he knew the situation of their relationship. 

You took a quick sip of your beer and then you pretended to choke, coughing uncontrollably and aggressively, making everyone turn their heads to look at you. Argyle perked up and started patting your back with a little bit of force to try to help you cough it all out.

“You okay my friend?” He asked and you nodded, clearing your throat and doing a few more little coughs for good measure. 

“Yep, yeah, it just– went through the wrong pipe.” You cleared your throat and Eddie was already putting on music on his phone and towards the speaker. Soon enough, Bad Bunny filled the room and you frowned at the choice and looked at Eddie who was red with embarrassment. 

“Since when do you listen to… latin music?” Jonathan spoke this time and Eddie stuttered for a bit, a snort threatening to leave your nose and mouth. You had to stay strong, you had to hold it in.

“I uh… I am trying to expand– my music taste.” 

And your snort was what did it. Everyone just started cracking up at the whole chaotic situation. Nancy was still blushing though giggles escaped her lips as she sat back down next to Eddie. Robin shot you an appreciative look through her laughter and you saw Nancy bumping Eddie’s shoulder with hers.

“Okay, okay… shut up!” Robin finally yelled and she took a deck of cards from her purse. “Here is my new game. It’s called ‘Everyone drinks’ and it’s just, grab a card and do what it says in there. Simple.” 

“Really? That simple?” Steve asked skeptically and Robin nodded with a mischievous look on her face as she opened the deck and placed it in the middle of the table.

“You start Dingus.” She said with a triumphant look on her face and Steve rolled his eyes and leaned to grab a card and read it. His eyes widened and he looked at Robin and then at the card again. 

“Yeah, no. I’m not doing this–”

“Read it out loud babe. What is it?” Steve gulped as he looked at Jonathan and then back down at the card.

“Using your mouth, put a condom on a person’s thumb. Not doing so equals… Six sips of your drink.”

You all started laughing at the dare and soon came to realize that… if you do not complete the dare, you have a punishment. Oh… this was going to be bad. Jonathan was belly laughing real loud as he looked at his boyfriend.

“Seriously Stevie? Are you telling me you’re embarrassed to do that when you do it to–” 

“NOBODY needs to know that.” And Steve grabbed his solo cup and started taking the sips mentioned, making everyone giggle and laugh at the situation. Robin sniffled and wiped the tears that slipped out of her eyes as she pointed at Jonathan to keep going. He laughed and leaned forward to take another card out, reading it first and laughing before saying it out loud.

“Everyone that had sex while drunk, drink four sips.” Everyone in the circle did an ‘Oh’ in understanding. It wasn’t just individual dares, they were also group questions. Everyone drank the sips except for Robin and Argyle, making the rest of you frown in question. Robin you knew she didn’t like that, but Argyle–

“I always get high, that? I do. Drunk? Never.” He smiled as he finger-gunned Robin who was on the other side of the table and she winked at him. Eddie rolled his eyes and smirked as he pointed his bottle at Argyle.

“Your turn Adonis.” And you shot a glare towards him, knowing he was making fun of you, but you felt yourself gulp when he was already smirking at you and sent a wink your way. Your attention was ripped away from him when Argyle leaned forward and took a card out.

“The last person who had sex takes three sips.” He looked at Robin for instructions and she nodded at him and straightened up.

“Now we go one by one saying when was the last time we all had sex. The most recent one drinks.” She looked at you now and you frowned in thought, blinking a few times before speaking.

“A week ago.” You looked to your right so you could look at Nance, and you also caught the intense brown eyes looking at you but paid them no mind, acting as if you didn’t feel them at all. Nancy was a blushing mess as she looked at Robin and then back down at her cup.

“Two… days ago.” Steve whistled at that and Robin threw a cushion up his head, making Nancy giggle as she looked at Eddie. He was looking at the ceiling, trying to think and he was scrunching up his eyes in order to remember correctly.

“Four days ago.” That surprised you, but why should it? He is handsome and well, it’s obvious he has hookups. Those semi-naked stories on Instagram are for someone… or many? You gulped as you shook those thoughts away trying not to think about how much your friend fucks per week. None of your business.

“Um… Two days ago as well.” Robin answered to Eddie’s stare and Steve whistled again, earning a punch on the shoulder by Robin and he yelled a little ‘ow’ as an answer while rubbing the place she hit.

“What a cunt… Three days ago.” Eddie let out a small whistle too and Steve only rolled his eyes at him while Jonathan chuckled.

“Same I guess.” And then you all looked at Argyle who seemed to realize that it was his turn, giving a little jump in his place. “Oh, today!” He said with a smile and all the people in the room almost stood up with surprised looks on their faces.

“What!? With who!? Spill it!” You yelled at him and he raised his hands in innocence while looking at you in a panic.

“With Eden! The girl I matched on Tinder! She is– Oh god guys, she is so perfect… We got high, I made some pizza and– perfect date.” Okay, maybe it’s just you and Eddie the only single people in this circle. You gave Argyle a pat on the shoulder with a smile on your face.

“Good job.” He giggles at you like a little kid and motions for you to pick a card. There was a fun nervous knot in your belly as you smiled, reaching over and grabbing a card out of the pile. You read it first and your eyes widened a little in surprise but the smile didn’t leave your lips.

“Say what you like to do the most during sex, or take a shot.” Everyone in the circle let out a synchronized ‘Ooooh’, making you snort a little as you go into thought. There were many things you liked during sex, but you had to pick one. You had soft ones, mild ones… and rough ones.

“How much thought you gotta put into this?” Steve chuckled at your indecision and you shot him a glare and straightened up with a triumphant smile on your lips, deciding on one thing.

“Okay, well… I like to ride.” And Eddie instantly spat what he was drinking and Steve laughed loudly as the rest stared at them with wide eyes. Did you say something funny? 

“Fuck– Sorry, didn’t expect you to say that.” Eddie commented as he cleared his throat looking back at you. Your eyes squinted at him, licking the inside of your cheek.

“And what did you expect me to say?”

“Hell if I know, just not that.” Eddie finished, taking a long sip of his beer as Jonathan raised his hand up to talk.

“I didn’t expect it either, to be honest.” You rolled your eyes, not really understanding what they thought of you. It’s not common for women to take initiative, that’s true, but it’s a position that… became your favorite the past year. Be it with a dick or a strap-on, it was the only way to feel, or pretend to feel, full.

“Okay, my turn.” Nancy smiled as she reached over to take a card from the pile, and Eddie looked over her shoulder to look at it as Nancy’s smile slowly fell. Eddie snorted, eyes widening as he covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his laughs. Nancy shot him a glare before hitting his shoulder. “Shut up!”

“I’m– this is great.” He only mumbled as he shook his head with a smile on his face and Steve motioned Nancy to continue.

“What does the card say Nance?” She straightened up and cleared her throat as she looked down at the card.

“Sit on a person’s lap for a whole round. In not doing so, you will have to take two shots.” You stifled your own laugh now as you looked down but you could hear everyone else snorting softly and clearing their throats. 

Robin though, simply straightened up and you looked up to see her patting her knee. Despite the nervousness, you could clearly see in your friend’s features, she was making moves, and you were proud that Robin was finally feeling a bit more confident in trusting Nancy. Her face was bright red and it worsened when Nancy stood up from her place and walked towards her, falling on her lap, making the bean bag chair sink even farther than before.

“Cozy?” Argyle asked and you snorted but still elbowed him on the arm, making him laugh, and clearing his throat.

You looked at Eddie who was smiling as Robin whispered something to Nancy, making her relax and giggle as Robin’s arms were around her, one hand resting on her knee, and the other arm around her waist. You felt your heart do some kind of little jump at how supportive he was of Nance, just like you were with your Robs.

“C’mon Eddie, stop laughing and pick a card.” Robin spat at him and he rolled his eyes at her, flipping her the middle finger before reaching out to pick a card out of the deck. For the second time in the night, Eddie Munson spat a bit of his beer as he choked on the liquid.

“Sh-Shit.” Eddie coughed a few times as everyone looked at him completely startled.

“The fuck does that card say?” Steve asked with curiosity. Eddie blinked a few times and you could see he was trying to come up with a fake sentence, stuttering as he read the card, so you pointed at him.

“He is going to lie!” And at your warning yell, Nancy reached out and snatched the card away to look at it. Eddie cursed under his breath as he sighed, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s not even that bad.” Nancy explained with a pout and Jonathan nodded at her with a confused frown on his face.

“Read it Nance.”

“Name your favorite sex position.” And at Nancy’s words, Steve let out the biggest laugh you’ve heard in the night. You frowned as you looked at Argyle for answers but he just shrugged at you with the same confused look and then you all turned to Eddie who was fuming, looking at Steve who was talking in between his chuckles.

“I know it. I’m sorry it’s just–” and Eddie stopped him.

“A fucking coincidence. It’s all it is, goddamnit.” And it seems Jonathan’s head clicked because he let out a loud ‘Ooooh’ and then started chuckling into his hand as he took a sip of his drink, making you even more confused than before.

“What’s a coincidence?” You asked and then Nancy started laughing as well, already angering you that everyone was putting a puzzle together in their heads while you were yet to understand anything that was going on.

“C’mon Eds. What’s your favorite sex position?” She insisted and Eddie’s eyes clenched tightly and then sighed, looking at Steve with pure hatred in his eyes.

“Cowgirl.” 

Huh? That’s it? That’s not—

“Oh.” 

Silence. Absolute silence. Your face started to heat up, slowly, as well as your entire body because– fuck, the images. You can’t imagine that. Not with Eddie. He is just a friend who helped you through your breakup. So you two share the same sex position, what’s the big deal?

“Damn, I love it too man, but reverse cowgirl is where it’s at.” Argyle commented, finally breaking the silence and you couldn’t hold it in, snorting out a laugh. Brown eyes were staring at you, bewildered, but a smile started creeping on his face and soon he was laughing alongside you.

“You know what’s funny?” Eddie called out to you and you opened your eyes to look at him, a mischievous smile on his face as he leaned towards you, making you lean and tilt your head to look at him. You were sitting after all, and you weren’t even close to eachother, yet, you could smell his cologne, like a fire spreading all over your body.

“What’s that Munson?” You replied with a sly smirk, which Eddie enjoyed as he pointed at Steve.

“He likes cowgirl too… and he likes to be one.” Jonathan spat everything that was in his mouth, cracking up loudly and shaking his head, while Steve turned three shades of red, grabbing onto a Dorito and throwing it in Eddie’s way.

“I’m going to fucking kill you after this.” Steve grumbled under his breath as he took a sip out of his beer and looked at Robin to continue the game while Jonathan tried to regain his breath next to his boyfriend. Argyle was patting his back, holding back the laughter while your shoulders shook, keeping the snorts in.

You looked up in order to see Robin asking Nancy to grab a card for her since she couldn’t move, but you noticed in your peripheral vision, a pair of dark eyes looking at you, almost boring into your skull. You turned your head to see Eddie moving to sit on the floor as well now, next to you. 

“May I help you Munson?”

“Wanted to sit like the peasants.” He replied with a smirk, taking a sip of his beer and you raised an eyebrow at him, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“Aw, did you feel a little bit lonely on the couch?” You giggled as you fixed your hair, pushing a strand behind your ear. “Needed some company?” 

And Eddie stared at you, an eyebrow raised up, almost as if testing you. You felt everything stop for a second, and that stupid knot in your belly turned again, bothering you once more. It was as if… you were nervous. Or anxious? But even so, you can’t pull your eyes away from him at all, and they widen as a smirk forms on his lips, leaning close to you, and a voice you never heard before coming from him. Low, only for you to hear.

“You offerin’ Peach?” 

What?

“Everyone that ever cheated, takes two sips!” Robin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Eddie was looking at Robin with a roll of his eyes, and your best friend clapped in excitement that no one in the room cheated before with any partner. 

But– What? Did Eddie just– No… He didn’t. He was just teasing, like a friendly banter. Fake flirting and all that. This is what it was, wasn’t it? You are definitely overthinking. Yet– why the fuck did you like it?

You took a long sip of your beer and noticed it was already empty. Soon, you all had your second drink of the night and the dares and truths kept coming, making everything enjoyable and fun.

Steve gave you a peck on the lips because his card said to kiss the opposite sex or he takes a shot, and he wasn’t going to risk his head with either Robin or Nancy. 

Jonathan took a shot because he preferred to not do the dare he got. He disliked the idea of having to take a body shot out of someone’s belly button, even if it were Steve’s. In Jonathan’s words, you never know what goes in there, and you honestly agree with it. 

Argyle probably got the funniest of them all.

“C’mon Brochacho, get up!” Eddie was whining next to you, shaking his head and you were laughing as you patted his shoulder.

“You just have to stay still, Eds.” And he only shot a glare your way as he got up from the floor to walk towards Argyle who was jumping up and down in excitement with his phone in hand.

“I swear to god–”

“Yeah, right there’s perfect man.” Argyle pressed play on his phone and the music in the place changed to Everytime we Touch by Cascada and laughter was heard all over the room while Eddie groaned with a whine as he looked up at the ceiling, asking for mercy.

“I want to die.” You heard him talk but not a second later, Argyle started to seductively move around Eddie while the metalhead stayed still. Steve whistled through his cackles and tutted at Argyle’s movements.

“The card said ‘Use a person as your personal stripper pole or take three shots.’ and, as far as I know, you GRAB onto stripper poles!” You almost spat what you were drinking as Eddie’s eyes turned murderous, looking at his best friend, but Argyle wrapped his arms around Eddie and slowly started grinding down. 

You were filming a story for Instagram, trying to contain your laughter as you saw Argyle dancing on a very scary Eddie Munson. Your cheeks were burning and aching from how much you were smiling, and everyone else was just clapping along to the music until Eddie had enough, raising his hands up.

“Okay, it’s done!” He yelled as he ran back next to you, plopping down on the rug, exhaling harshly, and shaking all of his limbs as if that would wipe his memory from what had just happened. The music turned back to a background volume and into an 80’s mix as Argyle sat back down on your left again.

“I do personal private dances for fifty.” And Jonathan laughed, taking a few sips of his Margarita. You were still giggling at the video you took, tagging everyone in it, ready to upload it. But a strong hot breath stopped you from pressing ‘post’, very close to your cheek, and it smelt like tobacco, beer, and firewood thanks to his cologne.

“Post that, and I wreck you.” 

You clenched. Shit, that– He is just close, that’s all. For fuck sake, it’s just the cologne. You were always sensitive to smells and perfumes, and a good perfume on a man did wonders. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down before straightening up and turning your head to look at him. The knot in your stomach became painful when your nose touched his from how close he was. 

His brown eyes were staring into yours, deeply, and if you were in a state of delusion, you would think he was showing interest in them. It just made your stomach turn, your heart jump out of your throat, and it made you– nervous. It’s just Eddie. He is messing with you. Totally fucking messing with you, because that’s just who Eddie is.

A ping was heard and Eddie’s eyes blinked in surprise, pulling away to take his phone out of his back pocket. His eyes widened, jaw dropped as he stared at the notification. His eyes slowly turned to look back at you, and all you had was an innocent smile on your face as you locked your phone again, putting it on the table. 

“I’d like to see you try Munson.” And Eddie only stared at you as you reached out to get hold of a card. He hummed to himself as he looked back down at the notification of you tagging him in an Instagram story. You sat back down as you read the card for yourself, mouth dropping instantly as you cleared your throat, putting the card down.

“Um… Can I pick another one?” Everyone booed at you and you shook your head at them, feeling your entire burning a hundred degrees. “It’s just–”

You couldn’t even finish your words, the card being snatched away from your left hand in one move, draining all the blood from your body. Your stomach was flipping upside down as you saw Argyle’s smile widen as he read the card first.

“Kiss the first person on your right, on the lips, or finish your own drink and theirs.” 

You would have done the latter, if it weren’t so much, because your bottle was halfway full, and Eddie had a brand new one open. Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest, but you didn’t know why you were caring so much. It’s not like it’s anything crazy, it’s just a kiss, and friends sometimes kiss for fun without it meaning anything at all… right?

“Jeez Peach, is my face that unpleasant?” You blinked, turning your head to see Eddie with a smirk on his face, making your face turn into a mocking one.

“Maybe it is Eddie.” You would have thought that his smirk would have fallen by now, but it remained, as well as his eyes staring right into yours. You felt a sharp pain right in your chest and you knew your nerves were getting the best of you now. 

“It’s just a kiss!” Robin yelled from her chair and you glared at her as Nancy giggled on her lap. Your palms were sweating, fingertips tingling as you tried to gather up courage. You weren’t a fucking teenager, you were a grown woman, you shouldn’t be flustered by this. But Eddie is your friend now, it would be like–

“It’s either that, or you chug those two beers Peach.” Eddie was taunting you, the smirk still showing on his lips with that playful look in his eyes. His shoulder was brushing against yours as you both stared at one another. You gulped gently in order for him to not notice how nervous you felt, because you would be kissing your friend, and you really don’t want to make it weird.

But you really don’t want to chug those beers… And you can’t deny that there’s some curiosity inside of you. After all, the first time you saw Eddie you thought he was handsome. Probably even tried to flirt with him. With time, that attractiveness disappeared thanks to all the hate you felt for him and him for you… But what if it never truly disappeared? What if it was hidden?

He was sitting with his legs crossed, leaning back, using his hands and arms for support, your friends whistling for you to move and kiss him, to get over with it. And they’re right, you just have to do it and you can move on. There’s no meaning behind it. You just don’t want to do the stupid chugging. That’s all there is. 

You don’t want him. You are just nervous because he is a friend and friends don’t normally do this. It can turn everything awkward so it’s normal to feel weird about doing it. But it is just a meaningless kiss. It really is just a small and boring kiss.

You leaned towards him and you couldn’t reach him. You would have to move your entire body to lean all the way to his face if he didn’t lean in to meet you halfway as well.

“Munson.” You gritted out through your teeth in annoyance. He just kept grinning at you, staying in his same spot, not moving a single inch towards you.

“You are the one that has to kiss me, Peach.” Your eye twitched at his cockiness. Is he the king of England? You heard Jonathan and Argyle chuckle at the situation and that only ignited the fires within you even more, the annoyance starting to boil in your chest. Eddie lost eye contact with you to laugh with them and your arm shot upwards.

Your hand gripped the back of his head, your nails digging into his scalp and holding him tightly there, forcing him to turn his head towards you. His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to say something, but you didn’t let him. No. He doesn’t get to be cocky and make you seem like a coward.

You pulled him towards you, and he winced when he almost lost his balance on his arms thanks to your force. His breath was close, his cologne was stronger, making you feel a little lightheaded, but in a good way. It means nothing. It means absolutely nothing, and nothing will change between the two of you.

Because you are friends now.

But you didn’t expect for his lips to be soft. You didn’t expect to feel your stomach exploding and your chest having a heave of relief. You didn’t expect to feel an electric current go from the top of your head to the sole of your feet. You didn’t expect it to feel good. You didn’t expect the intensity of it all by just this small kiss.

You can feel him taking a deep intake of breath through his nose as you two kissed, and you held in the need of moving your lips because, fuck, you really wanted to move your lips on his. You wanted to keep kissing him because it feels so good, he feels– perfect.  It was a small and short kiss, but you made sure it was deep. You made sure to taste it accordingly.

And you pulled away with a smack of lips. Your eyes opened to find brown orbs looking at you with something you really could not decipher, but it made your whole body light on fire, almost as if you were about to combust. His eyes went back and forth on your eyes and then down to your lips, to your now reddened lips that had just kissed his. 

Was it the beer? Was the small amount of alcohol you drank able to make you feel like wanting to dive into another kiss with him? It must be. It’s done, that was it. A friendly kiss. Not even with tongue, just a peck, it was small and enough to complete the dare. You had to talk to lose the tension because you wouldn’t be able to take his stare much longer.

“Speechless Munson? Seems I’m really good.” That was your cocky answer in order to disguise the turmoil of nerves in your belly as you turned to the rest of the group who were still whistling and wooing you both. You flipped them off, not even noticing that Eddie’s eyes were still locked onto the side of your face. 

The air in the room definitely changed.

“Never thought I’d see the day you two would kiss, but, it was less weird than you two becoming friends.” Nancy replied as she grabbed a card but what she said caught your attention, and it seemed Eddie’s too because he sat back up, staring at her.

“What does that mean?” Eddie asked and you felt another wave of cold sweat at his voice, and you tried to tell your head to not raise the temperature of your body again. You don’t want to give yourself away that you were nervous or felt awkward. Nancy just shrugged at the two of you and read her card out loud.

“Everyone that wants to have sex tonight, take a drink!” She cheered loudly with a smile and she turned to look at Robin before taking a sip. Robin’s face reddened as she took a sip herself, and Steve wiggled his eyebrows at Jonathan as he raised his cup to his lips while the other had already taken his drink and rolled his eyes at his boyfriend.

Should you lie…? But you could– You could mean anybody, it wouldn’t seem like you would want to do it with him, right? Would it look like that if you drank? What if he drinks? It probably doesn’t mean with you, doesn’t it? It’s just a general feeling, wanting to have sex. It’s normal. 

So you took a sip, trying to not think too deeply into it, but then your eyes caught the tipping of a bottle on your right. You managed to not turn, keep your head forward, seeing everyone laughing, trying to not pay attention to the man on your right who had just taken a sip, at least until your nerves settled back to normal. You looked at Argyle with an eyebrow raised up.

“You– Oh right.” You giggled at that and he nodded at you with a playful look in his eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong, I totally would again, but I’m satisfied for now.” You giggled at that and nodded, feeling a bit of the tension leave your shoulders as you interacted with Argyle. You saw Robin reaching out for a card but Eddie raised his hand up.

“Nuh uh Buckley. My turn.”

“Huh? But Nancy–”

“Nancy was sitting next to me, between Peach and I. So technically, it’s my turn.” He didn’t address the fact that Nancy could already go back to her place, leaving her on Robin’s lap. Robin flipped him off and Eddie chuckled with victory as he grabbed onto a card and looked at it. You decided to break the tension with him as well because you just cannot keep being weird all night. You were acting like a teenager.

“What does that one say, Munson?” You were grinning towards him and he looked down at you, a smirk on his lips and you felt a bit of relief at the known interaction.

“All the people that wanted, at any point, to fuck a friend, take a drink.”

You blinked a few times, his words processing in your head, and then he put the card on the table, facing up. It truly did say that. You cleared your throat and you looked down at your bottle of beer. Why do you feel like you have to take a sip? Your mind kept going back to Instagram stories with a bare chest that was filled with tattoos, dirty overalls, and ringed fingers holding tools or beer cans. 

Your mind went back to his lips on your cheek. To his voice against your ear. To his breath against your cheek and lips. To his lips against yours. To his words. 

No, it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t that. He is a friend. Eddie is just a friend.

“Why are you drinking Jonathan?” Steve asked with an eyebrow raised up and that made you snap out of your thoughts, looking at the couple. “We are together, so we don’t count babe.” 

“Well…” Jonathan then pointed at you with a smile on his face. “You forgetting that I went on a date with that beautiful girl there once?” 

And you smiled at that, nodding and raising your beer with relief, clinking it with his. Maybe it wasn’t exactly sexual attraction, but… you can pretend it was. You were saving your ass. You knew you were. The realization already happened, but you can just hide it. It won’t happen, it cannot happen because it would just ruin the friendship, the group. 

You took a sip as well as Nancy and Robin. Argyle took a sip and he explained that back in California, he had this group of friends from the pizzeria he worked at, and there was this girl that was just too pretty for her own good. You were listening to him, not noticing the other person that took a sip of his beer. 

A person that wouldn’t have taken a sip before. A person that has been hungrily looking at you all night. A person who has been stalking your Instagram more than he should. A person with brown eyes whose interest is at its peak. But maybe, just like you, it’s better to not do anything about it. Save the friendship, don’t commit to it, not because of just sexual attraction.

Besides you two are adults, and you can handle these urges.

Can’t you?

end of chapter 15

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A/N: slowly but surely. it's not called a slowburn for nothing.

Taglist is closed! I will start deleting people that do not interact with my posts.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #eddie munson smut #stranger things #fanfiction #eddie munson ff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #omegaverse #alpha omega #alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #alpha eddie munson #alpha beta omega #abo #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddiemunson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x female reader #slow burn #smut #enemies to lovers #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi I'm looking for a sterek fanfic that I cannot find. What I remember is that it's set in the omegaverse and stiles is an omega and derek is an alpha. Derek donated his clothes to a thrift store where they clean them of the alpha scent. Stiles stole it before it could be cleaned and eventually derek catches their scents mixed. I can't remember anything else about it but if you could help find it I would appreciate it!

I know this one!

I don't know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22

(1/1 I 17,840 I Explicit I Sterek)

“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”

He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.

Or the one where Stiles goes thrift shopping and steals an alpha's shirt. And gets a lot more than he bargains for.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #alpha/beta/omega #lost fic #anon

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate - (5) Heated Discussions

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 5 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 2765 (sorry it is so short)

Work count for Story: 19,008

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children. One of which is special needs, and on 3/28, they lost 75% of their vision. I started a Ko-fi and a Patreon if you feel the heart to donate towards helping with the medical costs of appointments, medication, and modifications to the house, which insurance doesn't cover.

Warnings: (I am not good at this, but I will try. Let me know if I missed anything!!) NOT BETA READ!! This story will have a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter does have Injury, Anxiety, arguments, comfort, Alpha Space, close proximity, and scenting.

Story Summary: The Hybrid K-pop group BTS is on tour in America; of course, things don't start out the way they should, but after an encounter with Y/n, things change but will everyone follow Fate?

Keep Safe. Keep Safe. First, it was Taehyung, and now it's Yoongi. Alpha Space seems to be no joke. Derek was not lying when he said this mindset helps them protect. Let’s hope this doesn’t mean they will treat you like a child.

Walking out of the elevator, you cannot help but smile at the rest of the Bangtan pack. While still in pain, you felt safe around them. 

“Excuse me, Miss Y/n. I have a few things that I would like to discuss with you before we get going. Allow me to walk you to your van,” Manager Sejin directs you off to the side with a nod from Namjoon. 

Yoongi closely follows you as you go with Manager Sejin. “Miss Y/n, thank you for your care and consideration in this situation. I can promise you that it will not be easy for the eight of you, but it will be worth it.”

As he speaks, you feel a tail wrap around your waist, and a hand touches your back. Looking over your shoulder, you see that Yoongi has his hand on your upper back but is facing away from you, looking at his packmates. 

Noticing that the group has gathered in a circle, something significant is being discussed. Not wanting to keep Yoongi from doing something important, you look back at the manager.

“Manager Sejin, I do not feel so well. Can you please take me to the van? I would like to sit down and process things.” He nods and moves towards the van in front.

“Mr. Min,” you smile softly at the jaguar as he looks at you, keeping an ear tuned in to the group of men. “I am going to go sit in the van. I am sure that I will be fine there while I wait for you and your packmates.”

Adding a bit of a pout to your smile, you ask, “Can you go and make sure everything is okay so that we can go? My hand is really starting to hurt?”

“Yes. Van safe. Manager Safe. Go packhouse now.” Yoongi responds.

Unwrapping his tail, he pushes on your back softly, urging you to get in. He returns to the circle of hybrids in what looks like a new heated discussion.

After exiting the elevator, Taehyung makes to stay with you, Yoongi, and the manager but is stopped by Jungkook. The younger one knows Taehyung would want to be a part of the discussion that is soon to come, even if he is still in Alpha Space.

After you had gone off with Yoongi and their manager, the remaining packmates circled up at the youngest's request. The mates seek comfort in one another. Jungkook hugs Taehyung from behind, while Jimin hugs Hosek around the waist as he leans against Seokjin.

Most of the pack had been through finding mates since there are six of them. Jungkook was the only one who understood the concept of what to do with a new mate but had never been on this side of the situation. 

“There are two vans. Obviously, Yoongi will be going in the van with Y/n, but who is going with them?” asks Jungkook, looking around as it dawns on them. 

The vans only fit five people in the back. Each mate immediately started proposing why they had to be in the same van as you, all at once. 

Seokjin said he only got to speak to you before the observation room and needed to see if his Alpha would react like everyone else has so far.

Hosek tops everyone, saying that he has only ever gotten to look at you, and it’s high time he was able to speak to the newest mate.

Jimin agrees with Hosek and thinks he can help get Yoongi out of Alpha Space on the trip to the packhouse.

Taehyung keeps quiet, his Alpha Space pulling at him to be near you again soon. However, Taehyung’s Alpha was much calmer and understood that being the second youngest meant he would most likely not be allowed to go. 

Jungkook argues that he was the one who got you to calm down in the break room, and your instincts are already reacting to him. Therefore, he is the best person to keep you calm from here on out.

Rubbing his temples, Namjoon lets out a sigh. He said you were ‘no trouble,’ but you really are gonna be trouble for them, but not in a way he is worried about. It's just going to be a change in dynamic.

“Guys, we all want to spend time with our new mate, but we must remember that she is human and doesn’t understand. Right now, all she knows is that Yoongi is deep in Alpha Space, and we, as a pack, must help her situation.”

“How are we going to tell her, Hyung? If her family member's statement is true, she won’t believe us,” Jimin says, looking your way, ears flat in concern.

“That is a good question. I don’t have an answer right now.”

“We may not have much time to come up with something. She needs to know. She needs to understand,” Hosek voices with watery eyes. If what that man upstairs said truly is the kind of person you are, they must help you grow to recognize yourself. 

Moving to hug Hosek with the others, Jungkook adds, “She may know about hybrids, but she doesn’t know enough about the Alpha-side of the culture, and what’s even worse is that she doesn’t know how precious she is.”

“That’s it! I go in van. Show Mate real!” Taehyung finally speaks up. He turns to walk toward you with a puffed tail and determination, only to be stopped by Soekjin.

“No, you have spent time with her. She knows you care, but she still thinks I am looking at one of the playmates they introduced us to. I am going to go with her.”

Within seconds, they are back to all talking over each other. Each of them demanded the other stay behind with justifications. This time, Namjoon joins in the fray. None of them notice that you have entered the van, and Yoongi is standing just outside the circle, watching the hushed chaos. 

With a stern voice that is just a bit louder than everyone else, Yoongi declares, “Packhouse, go now. Mate in pain.”

Silence takes over the group as they all look in your direction. Though you are inside the van, they can still see you. Taking in your appearance, they notice your wrist keeps swelling more, your face is paler, and you are bouncing your leg with nerves.

"Yoongi-hyung is right. We need to go. Yoongi, Hosek, Jungkook, and I will go with Y/n. The rest of you will go in the other van,” Pack Alpha says with a hint of Alpha voice, trying his best to get everyone going. 

“No,” Soekjin counters. “I pull the eldest card. Kookie, I am sorry but you should go with the others and help with Tae. I want to talk with her.”

“Hyuuunnnnggg,” whined the youngest, “fine, I will sit in the reject van.” Jungkook stomps off to the second van. His ears droopy, and his shoulders rounded like a scolded child.

“We got our bun,” Jimin says as he follows, pulling the still crystal-eyed Taehyung along. He mutters promises of scenting, nesting, and various kinds of cuddles if the Alpha joins him and the bunny in the second van.

Taking a seat in the van, you notice two captain chairs and a bench seat. Not knowing where everyone else sat, you figured Yoongi’s Alpha would practically require him to sit near you, which meant the bench seat would be the best. 

Sitting in the middle of the bench but on the edge of the seat, you bounce your leg while you wait because your anxiety is still bugging you. Your wrist is throbbing now. 

You wish you had something to drink as you eye the bottles of water sitting in the different cup holders. Wishing they had something more potent, you keep quiet, and your eyes return to watching the group talk.

Noticing where your line of sight was, Manager Sejin grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler built into the center console, opened it, and held it out to you. “Would you like something to drink? We only have water.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir. I didn’t want to take something that belonged to the pack.”

Shaking his head, Manager Sejin can smell your nervousness as his eyes flit over your form. Then he takes a quick look at the pack. They are still deep in discussion. Finally, he looks you in the eye. 

With a sigh, “Miss y/n, may I give you some advice?”

Swallowing your water quickly, you give him your full attention and nod.

“You are a person. A person that has needs, wants, and desires. Don’t be afraid to speak up. Ask for things. Demand things. I know they can be a bit much but they are each a person just like you. Idol or not.”

At the sound of footsteps, both of you look to see some of them approaching. Before he moves to the front seat, he says, “They will be there for you.” 

You are not sure what was more surprising. The fact that the two captain's chairs could turn to face the backseat or that Yoongi allowed you to be sandwiched between his older packmates.

Seokjin entered first. He sat on the bench to your left, and you hurried over to give him room. This was short-lived because next came Hosek.

Hosek gracefully wiggled his way to your right side on the bench. No wonder he was a dance god, you thought to yourself as you dropped your eyes to the floor to avoid watching his chest and hips pass your face.

This puts you in the middle and unable to keep any respectful distance between yourself and them. Feeling a blush creep up your neck and face as the two men’s bodies pressed against your larger form, you move to sit on one of the other chairs. 

“Sit. Safe. Hyungs…hmmm…” Yoongi starts to explain, but his Alpha Space limits his words since he and his Alpha don’t want to give too much information about you being their mate just yet.

“Sit, please, doll. Yoongi will want to sit near the door to be your first line of defense. I guess you could say,” Hosek speaks up gently, pulling at your elbow and guiding you back to your seat.

“Yes. Keep Safe. Guard.” Yoongi says with the look of a drill sergeant on his face as he takes the chair near the door. Namjoon, having already taken his seat in the other chair, spun it to face you.

“Guarding the door, got it but I could sit in the chair and Mr. Prime Alpha could sit with you. I am sure it would be more comfortable with him here than with me.”

Next thing you know, you are face-to-face with Seokjin as he leans his chest across your body to tighten you in. You hold your breath as you make eye contact with his deep, intelligent eyes.  

“I do hope you are not implying what I think you are,” Seokjin comments while handing Hosek your seatbelt.

His eyes are searching yours for something. As your blush deepens, a smirk grows on his face before he says, “you are much more cozy to sit with than Joon, Miss y/n.”

You are dizzy at the thought of making yourself ‘cozy’ with Seokjin. Blinking rapidly, you try to return to this reality and out of the gutter as you chuckle a response, “Ah, cozy, haha, I don’t think Gabriel Iglesias uses that in his levels.”

A mixture of hissing and growls fills the van. Your eyes snap up to see that Seokjin is the one hissing as he sits back correctly. Looking over, you see Namjoon’s jaw is set, and Yoongi’s eyes have narrowed as they growl. 

Instinctually, you lean away from the dangerous noise makers which causes you to press against Hosek. Placing a hand back on your elbow, he leans forward, whispering in your right ear, “Doll, I think you have had some rather mean and disrespectful people around you in your past, but you are with us now.”

“We do not allow for anyone to be self-deprecating. From the look on Yoongi’s face this isn’t the first time you have done this.”

Not taking your eyes off the three men whom you seemed to piss off yet again, “It’s not self-deprecation. It’s pointing out the truth, which helps me stay grounded.”

A soft hiss is heard in your ear, causing you to jolt forward, only to be stopped by an arm now around your waist. Hosek chuckles as he pulls you back against his chest. His warm breath only adds warmth to your already heated skin. 

Whispering in your other ear, “While it is nice that you are so instinctually responsive to us, doll. You must learn to listen when you are told something. In time you will believe what we tell you as well.”

While time in the van seemingly stops and sound becomes non-existent, the focus is on you as you battle your various reactions. 

Your body responds in a mix of ways. The lean but fit body pressed against your back warms you, causing your heart rate to race. However, the deep chuckles, hot breath on your neck, and primal eyes watching you cause heat to start pooling lower on your body.

Your mind is back in your damn nightmare because you cannot seem to go more than five minutes without causing some kind of adverse reaction from the world’s most famous male K-pop band.

To top it off, you are internally scolding yourself for losing your professionalism when all you want to do is figure out how to make them stop being upset at you and hide before they notice that you are getting riled up over basically nothing.

Your gutter of a mind now takes the nightmare of being hunted by the pack of Alphas in a much different direction. 

“Kookie! Kookie! Come on, bun. You know Jin-hyung is only trying to find ways to help,” Jimin coos at the upset bunny hybrid. Shaking his head, Jimin wonders why it is his job always to calm down these two lovebirds.

Realizing Jungkook is a lost cause, Jimin undoes his seatbelt and sits in Taehyung’s lap, gaining his attention. Jimin asks, “Alpha, is this okay? We really need Tae Tae back to help with Kookie and our newest mate. If I scent you well, can you let go?”

The crystal blue eyes look over his slightly older mate,”Scent then help mates.”

Smiling sweetly at the Alpha, Jimin noses at his jaw, causing the tiger to tilt his head to grant more space. Scooting forward and resting fully on Tae’s thighs, Jimin rubs his cheek along Tae’s jawline. Soft puffs of warm air blow across Tae’s neck, causing the Alpha’s breath to hitch. 

Continuing his journey, Jimin sniffs down the tip of his ear, down his neck to the bend where the scent of ebony wood is most robust. Pressing a soft kiss to the gland, the scenting session continues. 

The scent of ebony wood, oranges, and vanilla mixes. It is not long before the pouting bunny hybrid starts to watch his hyungs. Long forgotten is the reason why he is upset as he slowly releases his own calming cinnamon-like scent into the mix. 

Realizing that he has successfully got one of the two mates into a better mood, Jimin ups the ante. Shifting his weight forward, he lays his body flush against Taehyung. Within moments, Taehyung’s hand gripped Jimin’s tiny waist, pulling him in tighter.

Chirping happily at the response, Jimin kisses up and down Taehyung’s neck. When Taehyung starts to scent Jimin back, Jimin nips over the scent gland and laves it with his tongue, mixing their scents deeper.

Soon, the youngest joined them on the bench, sniffing the air and whining. Shifting closer, his bunny tail wiggled, and his ears stood as tall as they could inside the van.

“Tae-hyung, Minie-hyung, can I join? Please?” Jungkook asks as he softly places a hand on Jimin’s thigh. 

Nodding, Jumin moves to the other side of Taehyung’s neck, and Jungkook takes his place. Drowning the spaced-out Alpha in the loving scents of his two mates.

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Taglist - Open

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#ldysmfst fic #americanmate #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #au #hybrid #hybrid bts #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #angst with a happy ending #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #plus sized reader #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse #alpha beta omega

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing. 

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“How are you settling in?” 

“Fine.” You shrug. 

“Any instinct to nest at all?” 

You shake your head. “No.” 

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?” 

You shake your head again. “No.” 

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?” 

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.” 

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?” 

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over. 

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve. 

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?” 

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you. 

To go back in time and never present as an omega. 

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.” 

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze. 

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?” 

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you. 

You just have to ask. 

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you. 

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow? 

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them. 

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?” 

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it. 

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...” 

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you. 

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.” 

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see? 

How many scars do they have inside, too? 

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.” 

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier. 

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.” 

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you? 

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.  

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents. 

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller. 

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.” 

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping. 

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast. 

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind. 

A nightlight. 

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for. 

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day. 

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he? 

You don’t know that. 

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega. 

You’re a good omega. 

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually. 

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway. 

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips. 

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you. 

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest. 

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack. 

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself. 

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him. 

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base. 

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing. 

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know. 

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you. 

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England? 

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous. 

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you. 

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness. 

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then. 

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush. 

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?” 

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.” 

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.” 

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.” 

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes. 

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?” 

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.” 

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark. 

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now. 

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions. 

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.” 

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.” 

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?” 

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.” 

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.” 

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.” 

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment. 

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long. 

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water. 

“Quite a ways.” He answers. 

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack. 

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice. 

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat. 

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours. 

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in. 

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you. 

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top. 

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.” 

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat. 

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to. 

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor. 

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him. 

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s. 

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water. 

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below. 

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here. 

“A training exercise.” He says finally. 

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it? 

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.” 

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?” 

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.” 

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench. 

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.” 

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity. 

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch. 

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.” 

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.” 

Your frown deepens. “But-” 

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.” 

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that. 

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds. 

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin. 

They’re not from the cold either. 

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while. 

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence. 

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?” 

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.” 

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area. 

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.” 

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him. 

He probably knows you already have. 

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him. 

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets. 

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment. 

He could have had worse ones, you always thought. 

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness. 

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck... 

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart. 

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you. 

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about. 

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?” 

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas. 

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.” 

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out. 

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?” 

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.” 

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action. 

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-” 

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.” 

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha. 

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly. 

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.” 

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.” 

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.” 

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion. 

You want to kneel for him. 

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase. 

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin. 

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days. 

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.” 

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?” 

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin. 

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.” 

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks. 

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout. 

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.” 

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base. 

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.” 

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style. 

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you. 

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs. 

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep. 

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.” 

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.” 

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair. 

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing. 

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?” 

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder. 

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental. 

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet. 

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.” 

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek. 

“Stubborn little omega.” 

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally. 

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again. 

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions. 

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door. 

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp. 

You know what they’re going to think. 

The stares you’ll get. 

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you. 

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy. 

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.” 

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room. 

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.” 

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend. 

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need. 

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you. 

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare. 

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.” 

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way. 

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger. 

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him. 

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.” 

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.” 

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess. 

“What do you want?” 

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer. 

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation. 

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out, 

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you. 

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega. 

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once. 

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” 

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again. 

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit. 

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything. 

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you. 

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it? 

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you. 

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent. 

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks. 

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well. 

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.” 

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins. 

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-” 

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket. 

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists. 

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch. 

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside. 

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch. 

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.” 

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your  body looking in. 

“Probably not.” Ghost says. 

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.” 

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there. 

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax. 

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it. 

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?” 

“Very high.” He answers. 

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.” 

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains. 

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit. 

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand. 

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.” 

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again. 

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind? 

“Teach me to fight.” 

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years. 

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring. 

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha? 

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.” 

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence. 

Monday. Early. 

You’ll be ready. 

Taglist Part 1:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10

#call of duty fic #call of duty #cod fic #john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #a/b/o #alpha beta omega dynamics #omegaverse #x reader

[harryspet]

the alpha’s trophy | s.rogers

[Warnings] dark!alpha!steve rogers x reader, omega!innocent!reader, reader is the last omega, military!steve to the max, non-werewolf a/b/o dynamics, kidnapping, praise kink, agegap, size difference/size kink, spanking, oral sex (female recieving), forced orgasms, omega heat, domestic!steve, my attempt at politics

A/N: This probably should’ve been two parts but oh well! (model is @enchated_noir)

In which you’re the last Omega and Steve’s the most influential Alpha in the country.

word count: 9k 

taglist:  @cherienymphe @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes  @watercoolerpaint @disaster-rose @slutforsebstan​ @doozywoozy​  @oneoftheprettynerds @xoxonotme @winterbuckystan1917​ @simpformarvelmenandwoman @hallecarey1​

main masterlist

Your bare feet padded against the wooden floor of Bruce Banner’s downstairs hallway. It was past your bedtime, a strict nine-thirty, but some nights you got curious what the bumbling man got up to at night. His office was on the first floor of his brownstone, with double doors leading to a spacious but paperwork covered room. You made sure to tip toe as you peaked inside, thankful that he was probably too much in a hurry to make sure it was closed. 

Blue holograms surrounded the room, each one representing a living person and almost each you now recognized. When you first met Bruce, you hadn’t realized just how famous he was and it was too late to be cautious of his sad and volatile past. He’d moved past it, he explained to you, and he was gonna help you control your inconvenient gene as well. That’s what the medicine was for. 

Apparently, you had your own inner demon to fight off, “Bruce, all your leads seem to be coming up empty,” That voice was James Rhodes, the Iron Patriot, Tony Stark’s former right hand man, “I’ve spent the last two months combing through mountains in Veracruz using the device and absolutely nothing. Before that, Washington, Montreal, and Savannah. I spent half a year in Cork and never got close to an alert. You’ve been around the world yourself and you still have faith in this thing?”

Bruce always seems grumpy on the mornings after these meetings. He was always the smartest in the room and people could treat him sometimes like he wasn’t, “We have DNA collected from some of the last Omegas that ever existed and we have DNA from perhaps the strongest Alpha in the world. It’s in their chemistry for Alpha’s to find Omega’s and the device is able to completely, although artificially, utilize that ability. It’s a science. A science I have mastered. The problem isn’t with the device.”

“Then what is the problem, Bruce?” Bucky Barnes, you recognized that voice too. He’s the one who gives Bruce the most headaches. You could also recognize him by the energy he gave off, energy you could feel even through the hologram. 

“The problem is simply that this crisis is worse than we feared. We haven’t come across an Omega yet because there are most likely less than ten of them left on this entire planet. If that.”

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips and Bruce turned around, meeting your eyes for a second before pretending that he hadn’t noticed you. He didn’t want them to know you were there for some reason. 

“He won’t take that as an answer,” Bucky responded and you leaned in closer, gently placing your hand on the knob. You knew Bruce would be angry but you cared more for hearing the rest of the conversation, “If there is even one left, he wants them, and he won’t stop searching. Even if it is a one in a seven billion chance, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce leaned against his desk, his arms crossed in front of him as he blew out a sigh, “There’s always an evolutionary reason for things like this. They weren’t snapped away, they slowly stopped being born and they died out. Tell Steve this or not, I don’t care, but it seems the universe is telling us to move on. Alphas will mate with Betas and Betas will mate with those who are not ranked. The world goes on.”

“Bruce-”

Bruce interrupts Rhodes, “Hey, maybe ask Captain Marvel if she’ll fly you an alien omega from another planet,”  The scientist didn’t let the two men get anything out before pressing a button on his computer that ended the call. 

You took a step back, wondering if you could make a dash upstairs and avoid his wrath, “Don’t,” You heard his voice on the other side of the door before one of the double doors swung open. 

You took a breath, “Hi,” You whispered. 

“Hi,” Bruce seemed to smile even though he really didn’t want to. He looked down at your small figure, deciding that, like usual, he just couldn’t get truly angry at you. Although he was a Beta and completely outranked you, he never treated you that way, “I thought you were fast asleep.”

“I was…” You tiptoed around the truth. “I couldn’t sleep and … you never talk much about the stuff you do.”

“You’re curious,” Bruce placed his hand on your shoulders, a comforting and warm feeling flowed through, as he slowly turned you in the direction of the kitchen, “I suppose I can’t blame you for that. You know what always helps me sleep?”

You perked up, looking over your shoulder at him, “Milk and cookies?”

“Milk and cookies,” He nodded in agreement, leading you into the small kitchen. All the appliances were on one side, a wooden dining table on the other, with a view of Bruce’s tiny yard. There was a small garden outside though all the plants were dead since Bruce was often too busy and not home enough. You wished you could tend to it but you weren’t allowed outside. 

You watched as he retrieved the store-bought cookies from the freezer and you helped him separate them on the pan, “I assume you heard a lot of my conversation.”

“A little,” You shrugged.

“Y/N,” He warned, “C’mon, what are you thinking?”

“That I’ve never …met an Alpha before,” You spoke honestly.

“Well, they’re getting rare these days as well. I suppose that’s a good thing that there’s less ego. If you’re lucky, you’ll never meet one.”

You nodded although you still had questions, “But why exactly can’t I meet one?”

Bruce was quiet for a moment, like he suddenly realized how delicate this topic was, “Alphas and Omegas are a natural pair but Omegas are outnumbered. Too outnumbered.”

“You said that there are probably less than ten of us,” You remembered, “Did you mean that?”

“Yes,” Bruce spoked quickly, “But it’s an estimate. It’s been thirty years since anyone has seen a living Omega.”

“But I’m not the last one, right?” You asked, “You could find another? Why don’t you use me to help? I could help.”

“Y/N,” Bruce said, snapping you from your delusions, “It’s a miracle I found you. A complete miracle. And I promised your Grandmother that I wouldn’t experiment on you, that’s the last thing that she wanted. In the wrong person’s hands, that’s exactly what you’d be. She wanted you protected.”

You weren’t sure exactly how you should feel. You had no idea you could be more isolated. It was all you had known. You spent the first eighteen years of your life with Nana and then the next three with Bruce. You’d never gone to a real school or had real friends and yet this was the first time you were truly alone. You were one of the last ones left. There was no one out there to truly understand you. 

The two of you sat at the dining table after the cookies cooled off, your legs tucked beneath you, as you leaned over your plate, “Why do you lie to your friends on the blue computer things?”

“I used to call a lot of people my friends. Now things are different and I just don’t agree with the things they stand for anymore.”

“So why do you talk to them?”

“They’re connected to an important person. I can’t really afford to be on their bad side.”

“The man who’s looking for someone like me?” You pressed further.

Bruce hadn’t realized you comprehended so much and he noted that he would have to start taking his meetings elsewhere. Bruce dipped his last cookie in his glass, eating the whole thing in one bite before dusting off his hands, “I think that’s enough for tonight. You won’t be able to sleep with so much on your mind.”

“There’s already so much to think about,” You whined, “I can handle it, I promise. Besides, who am I gonna talk to about it?”

“That’s enough for tonight,” Bruce spoke firmly, “We both could use some rest.”

Once you found sleep it was relatively peaceful but you were jolted awake by your blanket being ripped from on top of you. You didn’t realize your heart could beat so fast and you were immediately angry at Bruce who had scared you within an inch of your life, “Get up,” He spoke aggressively, “Put your things in this. Pack only the things you need.”

He tossed you a black backpack that you had a feeling would not fit enough of your precious knick knacks that you’d acquired over the past few years. You threw your legs over the side of the bed, “W-What’s wrong?” You asked as he made his way to the door, “Bruce!”

“We’ve been here too long, Y/N,” He ran his fingers through his hair, his voice losing breath, “I’m taking you somewhere safe. I-It’s, uhm, everything’s fine. Just pack up and come downstairs.”

You did as he said, grabbing a maroon sweater to drape over your nightgown before grabbing more clothing items to put in the bag. You decided on one stuffed animal, a squishy version of a panda bear, before grabbing a few toiletries from your bathroom including your white pills. 

You slipped on a pair of black boots, strapped on the backpack, and hurried your way down the stairs. This moment felt exactly how it did when your Nana’s heart gave out and Bruce was whisking you away to a land you’d never been before. 

“Bruce, I’m ready,” You hurried to the bottom of the stairs only to see a gun being pointed at the side of Bruce’s head. The man holding the gun was dressed in black, an arrow strapped to his back, and intricate tattoos decorating his arm. There was another man with dark skin who’s determined look seemed to be replaced by a dropped jaw at the sight of me, “Bruce.”

“God almighty,” The man with the gun spoke, taking me in. Bruce gave you a panicked look and for the first time it seemed like he didn’t have a plan. You did the only thing you could think to do. You turned on your heel and ran back up the stairs, “Go, Sam.”

You made it back to your bedroom, locking it behind you as you ran to your window. There was a pounding at the door but it wasn’t louder than the pounding in your ears. You manage to get it open before your door is completely broken down. You were halfway onto the landing before you were wrapped in strong arms and yanked back inside. You dug your nails into the man until he groaned in pain but he never let you go.

As your hands desperately grabbed at the stair railing, you heard a deafening sound from too close nearby. Sam hurried down the stairs with you in his arms and he finally let you go when he reached the bottom, “W-What did you do?” You scrambled to your feet, looking over the couch to see Bruce on the floor, the carpet around his head soaking with blood.

“Resisting arrest by a government official,” The man declared and you felt your knees give out beneath you.

“She doesn’t smell like one, Clint,” Sam commented. 

“He’s probably been feeding her suppressants. Makes sense why we haven’t had a lead in years,” They spoke about you like you were an object and perhaps that’s what you were, “Cuff her, let’s go.”

You didn’t resist as your arms were pulled behind your back and a black sack was hauled over your head. It’s like your body wanted to shut down, to free you from the terror in your mind, and you could barely feel a thing as you were led outside. It was the first time you’d truly been outside for years and you couldn’t even feel the sun on your skin. 

You could hear the roaring sound of a large engine and you were lifted inside before a door was slammed shut. You couldn’t tell if you were alive. You told yourself to breathe but breathing led to hyperventilating. There was not enough air in your lungs nor inside the hood over your head and the oxygen ran out soon and your thoughts trailed off to nowhere. 

Steve and Bucky sat side by side in the back of the armored vehicle. Fort Lehigh was their destination, newly revamped in Steve’s honor and now the largest army base in the country. Bucky handed Steve a phone displaying a live feed of your room. 

His first impression of you was how small you were and how you looked even smaller due to the fact that you were curled up tightly in a ball. The bed wasn’t small and you didn’t seem to lack any blankets, you were just seeking comfort within your own skin. 

“How long has she been off the suppressants?” Steve asked, concern laced in his tone that he would only show to his closest friend. 

“Almost 72 hours,” Bucky answered.

“And no one has been allowed near her?”

“No, only the unranked, just like you asked. I doubt anyone will make a move against you, they know where your eyes are set.”

“Still, it’ll be hard for any Alpha to resist her when she fully presents as an Omega. I need to make an offer to Capitol Hill.”

After Tony Stark’s death and Thanos’s defeat, Steve became even more of a symbol. Now, he was the highest ranking American soldier and had more political influence than any politician, “They’ll be touted as heroes for giving the last Omega to their most respected soldier.”

“But they’ll still want something to line their pockets,” Steve said, looking down at the small screen. You still hadn’t moved and Steve wondered how much they scared you during the retrieval. Steve cleared his throat, handing the phone back over. The car was getting closer to the center of the base and he’d be face to face with you soon. He adjusted the front of his suit, a darker version of the usual red, white and blue, “Whatever they ask, make sure they get it.”

“Aye, aye.”

The room barely had any blankets or pillows. One pillow and one blanket. You were completely freezing and all you wanted to do was be under a mountain of blankets and stuffed animals. There were no stuffed animals either and you’d probably never see your old ones again. And fuzzy socks. No fuzzy socks. This place was a complete prison. 

In a panic you rearranged the room, moving the mattress beneath the bed and laying the blanket on top to create a tent. They never turned the lights off here either so the time of day was lost on you. 

The door to your cell creaked open and you assumed someone was here to drop off food but an extremely deep voice said your name. The name vibrated through you, widening your eyes, and raising every hair on your body. It felt as if you were hearing it for the first time. 

You didn’t move but the door closed and the footsteps became louder. His smell enveloped the room, warm and woodsy, like tobacco leaf and vanilla. You completely felt him before you saw him. You could picture him as everything about him had already invaded your every sense. 

He kneeled down, lifting the blanket that was shielding you in your tent. It was like a scary movie, the murderous villain finally shows him face, only to be extremely handsome. You were still frightened nonetheless. He scanned you fully examining you like one of his missions.  

Steve Rogers. 

You were surprised when he let the blanket fall and let you be enveloped by darkness once again. His footsteps faded and the cell door opened, “She needs blankets. Soft things. Find whatever you can. And kill the lights at night, no one can sleep that way. Understand?”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

Steve was right. You weren’t tucked away under the bed anymore, you were gathering everything soft they’d given you and creating an intricate nest on the floor. Every pillow was arranged perfectly, contorting to the shape of your body as you finally slept peacefully.

“These young kids have never even seen a young Omega in their lifetime. I didn’t realize they’d have no idea how to care for one,” Steve stood beside Bucky, watching you through the two way mirror. 

“It’s a shame,” Bucky shook his head, “I remember when we were younger and we thought you’d turn out to be an Omega.”

Steve smiled, “I proved myself, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Bucky nodded, “She could turn out to be something great too. A symbol, I mean. People think the reason we lost so many Omegas is because of how corrupt our society has become. You two … you could represent a transition back to good, American values.”

Steve couldn’t even admit how much the idea of that excited him, “I’ve let you hang around too many politicians.”

“I’m Mr. America, Cap’s Best Friend. Don’t forget that,” Bucky nudged him, “What’s stopping you from just taking her and running?”

“I’m gonna do this right,” Steve responded, “And the suppressants haven’t worn off, I want to be absolutely certain of what she is. Besides that, I’m making other preparations. Everything will eventually go public and people will either want to sell her or experiment on her. I need a safehouse, one much better than Banner’s.”

“What was he thinking?” Bucky asked in disbelief. He was the one who spotted you during the meeting. You were the eyes peeking through the door of Banner’s office.

Steve knew exactly what happened, “He was still trying to be the good guy.” Years ago, he would’ve done the same. 

The next time Steve visited your room, you were less on edge but your body was starting to drive you crazy. You had random crying fits even when you weren’t sad and moments where it felt like your blood was on fire. The only thing that soothed you was your pile of soft things. 

He leaned against the wall, arms folded in front of him, like a guard, “You had him killed.”

Steve shook his head, “No,” He also didn’t send Clint and Sam there with orders to take him peacefully, “But I’m sorry for your loss.”

You didn’t believe him, that was clear, “He was your friend before he knew me.”

“When you get older, you’ll understand friends often grow apart,” That was something Bruce would’ve said to you. 

“And I guess I’ll make friends one day from inside the box I’m forced to live in,” You responded, playing with the fringe on a teal blanket.

“You won’t feel trapped for long.”

Next he was gonna say you’ll have plenty of space to roam, like you were an animal, “You’re the man who was looking for someone like me?”

“I’ve been looking for you, Y/N,” You sucked in a breath, “And as my luck would have it, you’re here.”

“What do you want to use me for?”

The captain’s eyes seemed to narrow on you, “What do you think I would like to use you for?”

He was toying with you and you wished you weren’t in such a low position compared to him, “Bruce said bad people would want to experiment on me. He said I was one of the last ones.”

“You are the last Omega, honey,” Steve pushed away from the wall, stalking closer, “And just like Bruce, I don’t want you to be an experiment either.”

“But … you won’t give me my pills.”

“Those pills repress the most special part of you. That’s the part I’m interested in,” Steve crouched down, getting closer to eye level with you, “You don’t know much about yourself, do you?”

You glared at him, and you were angered at what he seemed to be implying. Yes, you were younger and less experienced but you were not stupid. Anger was soon replaced by a new feeling as his eyes settled on your lips. You stood up from the mattress, crossing the room to create more distance.

“What if I don’t want to go with you?”

Steve hung his head for a moment and you could tell that was not the reaction he wanted. He stood next, and you realized just how much bigger he was than you. You were a third of him, his shadow immediately draping over you, a wall of muscle you could barely see past.

“I know that coming off the suppressants is making you feel weird . . . emotional, even, but it’ll pass. You’ll feel normal-”

“I-I’m emotional because you . . . y-you killed my friend and I’m stuck here!” You were surprised you raised your voice but you needed him to hear you. Your voice was smaller than his and your voiced seemed to bounce right off of him and crumble to the floor. Still, your frustrations flowed out, “I don’t know you, I don’t know where I am, and everything here tastes like … l-like cardboard! None of my clothes are here, my panda is gone, and there’s no bad reality television to watch!” 

Steve smiled, “Keep going, sweetheart.”

You had the urge to scream but you clenched your fist instead. Steve watched as you began to pace, “This is what I was warned about. Those pills keep me from being w-weak . . . a-and crazy and I’m not supposed to be like this,” Tears stung your eyes before they fell down your cheeks, “I'm not supposed to be here with you.”

“Come here, Y/N,” Your body went rigid as his voice shivered through you. You looked up at him in shock as it wasn’t you who was in control of your movements, “Come closer.”

He’d changed his voice, it had the same deepness but it was now dripping in influence. Control. 

A test. 

You tried to shake your head but couldn’t. You were still upset, your throat still tight from the crying, and you felt the lack of control was gonna make your mood worsen. 

“Y/N,” He tried again and you actively fought it. 

“No,” You struggled to say, your voice a whimper, “Please.” 

Now, you were desperate. Steve liked that word on your lips and he liked those tear stained cheeks more than he’d probably admit. 

“Come,” He ordered again and your body moved towards its Master, “That’s it, good Omega. Good girl.”

Instinctively, your arms wrapped around him and your head rested on his chest. A switch flipped inside you as you were enveloped in his warmth and a part of you seemed to roar awake as his large hands pet the curls atop your head. Your worries faded, your heartbeat evened out, and the flame beneath your skin was extinguished. 

It was euphoric. 

Steve went into the ice unmated, and once he awoke, all the Omegas were gone. Something shifted within him as well and even he marveled at how quickly nature took its course. The sound of his voice was enough to quell your tantrum. All you needed was to be reminded of your place. You’d have him to guide you and to protect you. Steve would make sure you wanted for nothing. 

When you pulled away from his embrace, your hands roamed cautiously over his uniform, feeling every divet and wanting desperately to feel his skin. Your smaller hand grabbed his, your doe eyes staring up at him. What were the chances that the last Omega in the world would be this beautiful?

Steve was curious about your next movements as you led him over to your makeshift bed. You pointed down to the bed, expecting him to understand but he was left guessing, “You want me to lie down, honey?”

You nodded, the relaxed daze you were in had left you speechless. Steve did as you wanted, wondering how it was that he was taking the orders now. Normal, non-hypnotized you, would’ve found it funny watching the monster of a man lay there on a twin sized mattress. Now, all you wanted was to be protected in his embrace. You kept your hand in his, laying down right next to him. 

Next, you closed your eyes and found the coziest dreamland. 

Two days later, the scientists on the base declared that it was likely that the suppressants were no longer in your system. You were at your most natural state but it couldn’t feel much more foreign than it did. Steve was wrong, the emotional fits continued but now it was due to the fact that he’d left you alone, clinging to a pillow that still smelt like him. You missed him and hated that you missed him. 

That morning, your breakfast arrived as well as a stack of folded clothes. You knew it was a sign that you were leaving the room but that brought new fears you hadn’t even considered. You were trading this prison for another but there had to be some way out. Steve couldn’t possibly have everything figured out. But what if he did? And he’d overpower you easily so what was there left to do.

You were beginning to think it might be better to be a science experiment rather than his puppet. 

The clothing provided was a pink, floral, knee-length dress and a clean pair of white sneakers. Undergarments were provided, of course, but you wondered if Steve had a hand in picking those. Before you could stop yourself, you brought the dress to your nose, needing to know if he had touched them. 

You sensed no trace of him and immediately felt embarrassed that you desired him. That emotion turned to anger and you decided that you wanted to stay a little longer in the white box. You tossed the clothes to the side, focusing on fueling yourself instead. When your food was done, you stared at the two way mirror, a scowl on your face, and you hoped Steve was on the other side. 

The door opened again thirty minutes later and you were fully prepared for Steve but a woman entered instead, unranked, and dressed like a lawyer. She smiled at you, her dark hair tucked neatly in a bun behind her hair, as she closed the door behind her, “Y/N, I’m Maria Hill, It’s nice to meet you.”

You scanned her over, unable to even truly imagine how disheveled you must look in comparison to her. She glances quickly over to the clothes that are tossed to the side of the room. “Where’s Steve?”

“He’s going to meet us at our next location but don’t even worry about him, think of me as your advocate. I’m going to explain all the legal jargon so it’s not-”

“Legal?” Your eyebrows raised, “Where are we going?”

“Washington, D.C.,” She said, “A senate subcommittee meeting is being held concerning your … well-being.”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand. W-Why does the Senate care about me? Do lots of people know about me? How many?”

“As of this morning, the world knows,” She spoke, although her eyes said that she knew she was delivering devastating news, “Our government has a duty to protect you, Y/N. They’re deciding the next steps they need to make in order to ensure your safety.”

“I’m safe here,” You rushed out, panic beginning to set in, “Just let me stay here. I-I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

“Listen, I know this is frightening but this is your chance to ensure your own freedom,” That snapped you from the fog of anxiety, “You can show them who you are, that you’re your own person with feelings and needs. You can say whatever you want to them. This isn’t the 50’s anymore, the only thing they want to force you to do is to stay alive.”

You swallowed. 

You weren’t even sure who you were and you weren't even sure you could even think of words to describe yourself that didn’t seem juvenile. Steve had the upper hand in that arena as well. You didn’t know him well but you could tell he was sure of himself. 

You stayed close to Maria the entire time, during the helicopter ride and the car ride to the Capital. As you got closer, you saw thousands of people lined up on the street just to see the line of black limos pass by. There was no hiding it, the world knew your name and there was no hiding your scent. 

A group of eight Secret Service agents surrounded you the entire time, up the white steps and into the prestigious building. You couldn’t see much past them. You could only hear the roar of a crowd and the snapping of pictures. 

Once you were inside, the agents parted only to let someone into you and Maria’s bubble. You hadn’t seen Steve since you’d cuddle up to him in bed and you didn't realize you’d feel the same euphoria as before just by being a foot away from him. You kept your hands to your side, resisting any desire to reach out and grab him, “You look beautiful, sweetheart,'' was the first thing he said. You could say the same as he was dressed in a fancy black suit, his lapel decorated with several different medals of honor. 

Your lips parted although no words left them. That made him smirk. 

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

You shook your head quickly.

“Good,” He stated, “There’s no need to be nervous when I’ll be there, understand?”

You nodded, feeling like a puppet.

“Tell me you understand, honey.”

“I . . . I understand,” You found your voice and you gave Maria a suspecting look which Steve seemed to notice.

“Is that all, Captain?” Maria asked, “The meeting is starting soon.”

“Yes,” He leaned down to whisper in your ear in that life-shaking, influencing tone, “You’re mine.” 

The pictures didn’t stop even as you entered the meeting room. The room was huge with wood walls and expensive looking golden fixtures everywhere. The group of 12 senators sat in a half circle behind a curved wooden desk, elevated a few feet from the crowd. You walked with Maria past several rows of pews filled with people. There wasn’t enough room for everyone to sit, leaving reporters and photographers standing on the sides of the room, snapping pictures, and calling out your name in order to get your take on the situation. 

The room felt airless and it made it even worse that you felt you were moving in quicksand. Maria was keeping you upright, tethering you to the planet you mentally felt so far away from, leading you to the second table placed in front of the congress members. When you sat beside her, you wanted to stop yourself from looking behind you but you couldn’t help herself. Like you expected, everyone’s attention was locked on you. From all angles, there was no way you could escape it. 

Your eyes met Steve’s who was sitting in the adjacent table to yours, right next to Bucky Barnes. You realized that Steve was going to be a voice in this matter, most likely arguing against whatever you wanted for yourself.  

With your feet dangling above the group in the large chair, it was hard to think the two of you were on the same level.

The meeting had started but you felt outside your body and you realized you were only staring instead of listening. Everything seemed to get quiet and you were suddenly back in your body. You had no idea how long it had been since you sat down or why everyone seemed to be waiting. 

Maria squeezed your hand which was sweaty and resting on the table in front of you. She leaned over to say, “Senator Ochoa addressed you,” She gave you a reassuring smile, “She wants you to introduce yourself and talk about how you ended up here today. Just stand and share what you’re comfortable with.”

You didn’t know you’d have to stand to speak and you were almost considering falling over and faking a heart attack. Steadying yourself on shaking legs, you suddenly realized you had no idea who that senator was. You scanned their nameplates, your eyes landing on a brown skinned woman with straight white hair. 

You were suddenly aware it had been an uncomfortable amount of silence since someone last spoke. Still, you were getting up the courage, deciding to focus on the woman as a way to not focus on the hundred of people whose eyes were on you, “Hi … I’m Y/N … Y/L/N-” Already there were whispers and you looked down at Maria who was urging you to continue, “I-I didn’t know I was coming here today and I’ve . . . never even been in a room with more than 3 people until now. The past few days have probably been the worst of my life but . . . before that, I grew up with my grandmother. She protected me and she homeschool me for my entire life. When she died, Dr. Banner took me in-”

Everyone was in tune to every word you said, like your life was the most interesting thing in the world. Truthfully, your life still wasn’t important in the grand scheme of things and you disliked the seriousness people were now assigning it. 

“He kept me safe and loved me like his own. He was . . .” You held in your tears but your eyes still watered, “He was murdered by one of your government officials and now I’m here. That’s my life, Congresswoman.”

She addressed you again, “Thank you, Miss Y/L/N. We’re all aware this environment is abnormal for you, that’s why we had Agent Hill help represent you today. Please feel free to ask questions if you don’t understand something,” You nodded, “If I may continue, in the official report, it says that Dr. Banner pulled a knife on Agent Barton. You mentioned that he kept you safe. Would it be safe to say that he would kill for you?”

“I didn’t know him as a killer, and I was there, I know for a fact that he didn’t try to hurt Agent Barton. There was a gun pointed to his head-” You tried to control your tone, not wanting to come off as angry, although that was all you felt when you thought about how he died, “No, he wouldn’t have.”

Another Senator spoke up, “Miss Y/L/N, isn’t it true that Dr. Banner didn’t clue you in to much of his business? Did you know that he had sold the government fake tracking devices and was sending our agents on wild goose chases around the world?”

“Well …” You couldn’t lie, especially around this many people, “I didn’t know that exactly. I did know that Omegas were being searched for and that . . and that-”

“Did you or did you not know the device was fake, Miss Y/LN?”

You looked down at Maria and she simply told you to be honest, “No, I didn’t.”

You were asked a few more questions and the only thing the Senators seemed to learn was that you knew nothing at all. When it seemed they were getting nowhere with me, they moved to Steve, and many of the Senator’s eyes seemed to light up when the hundred year old man began to speak.

“The matter of today is not to determine the cause of Dr. Banner’s death nor is it meant to decide his intentions. Whether we believe he was right or wrong, the law was broken. It was established years ago, that any Omega must be turned over to authorities,” Steve was confident and precise, “Of course, we’ve never had to actually deal with that possible issue until now. There’s no point in wasting time. We’ll need a plan to keep Miss Y/L/N safe and then procedures in place in case another Omega is found. Miss Y/L/N’s surfacing gives hope for a promising future but we can’t deny that her presence will bring challenges.”

The conversation shifted to one that you no longer felt a part of. 

“What’s a sure way that an Omega remains protected?” One Senator asked. 

“A mate,” Another one answered. 

“Are you suggesting the government play matchmaker?” Senator Ochoa seemed to be one of the few not under Steve’s influence. 

“As Captain Rogers said before, Senator, a sole Omega will attract much unwanted attention. Having a mate, a physical bond, would provide the most protection,” You could feel Steve’s eyes on you although you couldn’t face him. You worried he’d gain the ability to control you with his eyes next.

You watched as a debate began between the Senators, some calling it blasphemous but too many suggestions involved sacrificing self interest for the greater good. You turned to Maria who seemed surprised by the direction of the conversation as well. She stood next and you mentally let out a breath of relief as you weren’t sure you could eloquently get your point across, “It must be her own choice of who her mate should be. Arranged matings are not the sort of precedent we want to set in this country.”

“I’m afraid this precedent has already been set, Agent Hill,” Senator Brinkley chimed in, “With the decline in new Omegas during the 60’s, arranged matings were very common and even arranged by local governments. I urge Miss Y/L/N to consider the incentives we’d be required to provide her for her trouble.”

“Her trouble? Money is not something that would compensate for any sort of emotional distress.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? Ranked humans are meant to have mates. Omegas are born to be paired with Alphas. It’s in all of our natures.”

You saw Maria running into a dead end and your anxiety grew worse, “I hadn’t realized this was an ambush. I am moving that we schedule another meeting a few days from now. That way we can have more time-”

“Time is of the essence, Agent Hill,” Steve interrupted. 

“Captain Rogers is correct,” Senator Neal, the subcommittee chairman, made his final declaration, “We can arrange another meeting soon but the problem at hand must have a solution for now. We simply cannot take the chance of losing our last Omega. For the time being, Miss Y/L/N will be turned over to Captain Steve Rogers. As our most decorated military member and one of our highest ranking Alphas, I believe she’ll be in great care.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know-” You heard Maria say before you tuned out the world around you. 

Being one of the few Omegas, you thought you might be treated as less than but until now you hadn’t realized how true that would be. It was stupid to let the crowds and reporters fool you. They were watching you like an animal in the zoo because that’s exactly what you were now. 

When you tuned in again, a calloused hand had wrapped around your tiny one and you were standing in front of a flock of reporters. You looked up at Steve and he had the same confidence and seriousness in his look as he spoke to them. He’d probably have no problem convincing the public that this was the right choice. 

You had to walk fast to keep up with him. Maria was gone, you weren’t sure when you had lost her, but now you were surrounded by even more people that you didn’t know. At some point you were sitting in a car listening to Steve talk on the phone to what sounded like a news outlet. Then at another point you were being pulled out of a car and lifted into strong arms. You supposed Steve had gotten tired of your short legs. 

It was loud on the asphalt, you heard the whirring sound of the engine as you were carried closer to it. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your head tilted into the side of his neck as you inhaled the most enticing scent, “The hard part is over, honey. You can relax now.” 

You ran to what you hoped was the bathroom once you awoke and saw that you were on TV. Your eyes were closed as you wretched but you could still see a scared little girl standing shyly next to the strongest soldier in the world. Why did you let him whisk you away when you could’ve stood up for yourself? Why could you not think for yourself at all when you touched him? 

When you finished vomiting into the toilet, you made your way over to the sink, and you saw a figure standing behind you as your eyes first opened again, “Your toothbrush is in the first drawer to the right. All your things are on the right side, mine on the left. The closets are organized the same way.” You opened the door and surely there was a pink, electric toothbrush. 

You truly got a chance to look at the bathroom which had tall ceilings, a fancy shower, his and hers sinks, and the impossibly clean mirror in front of you, “I don’t have any clothes,” You countered, adding toothpaste to the tip.

“I had a few things brought from Banner’s house and I had more purchased for you.”

You shifted, not having expected he would go as far to get you clothes you’d actually be comfortable in. You didn’t let that ease you, your stomach still feeling unsettled as you began to brush your teeth. Steve’s eyes stayed on you, watching you as if you might dust away at any moment. 

“I know it was scary being seen by all those people,” Steve said, leaning in the bathroom doorway. He almost looked unfamiliar in a black t-shirt and black sweatpants, “You represent something good, that’s all, that’s why people care so much.”

You spit the contents in your mouth into the sink, wiping your mouth as you turn off the water, “You knew how it would affect me but you caused it. Maria said that yesterday–”

“Two days ago, you’ve been asleep for awhile,” He corrected you. Your brows furrowed and you finally noticed the clothes you were wearing. A men’s plaid button up that went all the way down to your knees. 

You couldn’t possibly have slept for two days, “You keep using your stupid Alpha voice on me and now I’m losing track of time. The last thing I remember was getting on the plane. I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Your eyes were wide, panic setting in again.

“Y/N, you fell asleep because your body was exhausted and my touch allows for it to relax. You’re not losing your mind, I promise, just learning more about yourself.”

It didn’t make sense. You had no idea that Alpha’s had that power over Omegas, “That doesn’t change what you did. Maria said that the meeting was an ambush. You planned it. You knew what decision they were going to make.”

“Yes,” Steve nodded, “I pushed them in the correct direction.”

You shook your head, “I’d rather be back in the white box than here with you. I’d rather even be where Bruce is now. I hope you know that. Whatever little voice you use, or whoever I turn into when you touch me, that’s not who I am. I hate you.”

You were surprised to see him falter, to see anger threaten to show on his features, and you realized the noble man wasn’t always so stoic. 

He straightened himself, his arms still crossed across his chest as he came closer, “I don’t need to use my voice to control you, Y/N. And my voice is not going to be the reason that you’ll do exactly as I say from now on. Would you rather my touch be unkind to you? I can bend you over my lap and show you how unkind I can be. Do you under-”

You caught him by surprise again as you made a break for it, running around him and through the master bedroom. He was stronger but you were much smaller. You couldn’t outrun him but you could exercise what little control you had left. 

With tears stinging your eyes, your bare feet padded down a long wooden hallway until arriving at a staircase. Steve wasn’t running but you could hear his heavy steps behind you. You felt you were running through a museum as you began to look around at the decor. You were surrounded by traditional fixtures, moody colors, and a whole lot of war memorabilia. 

At the end of the stairs, you saw the front door and ran to turn the knob though it did not budge. You looked through the sidelights, noting that the home you were in was in the middle of a cul de sac and you saw rows of identical looking houses all the way in the distance.

 “Y/N!” You kept moving. Steve sounded more annoyed than angry now as he followed you through the kitchen’s swinging doors. You stopped in your tracks, meeting eyes with three people, a woman who was cutting vegetables on a cutting board, a woman who was wiping down a dining table, and a young guy in overalls installing something near the back door.”

You felt Steve’s hand on your shoulder, “Sorry, guys. Y/N desperately wanted a tour. Y/N, this is our chef, Cynthia. Our housekeeper, Amy. And Andrew is taking care of some things around the house, helping us get settled in.”

It looked like he was installing a similar security device to the back door. 

It was your turn to say something as both Amy and Cynthia gave you warm smiles. The only thoughts crossing your mind pertained to Steve’s hands on your shoulder, “Will you both be having lunch in the dining room?” Cynthia asked.

“No, just have it sent up in about … an hour,” Steve responded, “Thank you.”

Steve was leading you out of the kitchen and, as soon as you were out of their sites, you were thrown over his shoulder. You expected a cool remark but Steve was quiet as he carried you back up to the room. 

He set you on your feet, only to keep his promise by bending you over his lap. He’d sat at the edge of the bed, pinning your arms to your side as he held your body as close as possible. He only had to lift the shirt a small bit to completely expose your body.

“Cynthia and Amy will help us for our first weeks together. Your first real heat will come soon and we’ll need to be together, they’ll be able to keep the house together,” You squirmed as his fingers caressed the back of your thighs, threatening to dip into the gap between your parted legs, “When your heat is much more managed, or when your belly wells up with my child, you’ll take on those duties of maintaining the house. A military base is not where I want us to live forever but it will do for the time being.”

He’d thought all of this over, most likely in great detail, he’d had a chance to process it and he expected that you’d do the same. Still, he gave you little time to panic over that impending doom as he began to lay hard slaps against the bare skin of your bottom. 

You screamed, thinking that maybe one of the people downstairs would come to your aid but your hopes weren’t high for long, “Please!” You begged, although you soon grew embarrassed by your own crying, letting the comforting muffle your voice. You didn’t want anyone to rescue you. You didn’t want anyone to know you’d been spanked like a disobedient child as an adult. 

“Tell me you’ll be good for me, baby.”

There was no Alpha voice and there was even a sweet mention of a pet name yet this was the most threatened you felt to obey. 

“Yes! O-Okay,” You stuttered, choking on a cough.

“Repeat it back to me, Y/N.”

“I’ll b-be good for you, S-Steve,” You could finally catch your breath when he stopped. When he stopped, you didn’t even move yourself, you didn’t even attempt to cover yourself. Steve was the one who lifted you, laying you gently at the edge of the bed with your bottom up.

You laid there motionless, hearing Steve walk away to the bathroom, but your eyes were fixed on the master bedroom door. This would be a bigger cage and you doubted that you wouldn’t feel trapped here like Steve had promised. 

The bed dipped beside you and you cringed and squirmed as you felt his hand on your bottom again. He shushed you, holding your upper arm to keep you in place as he lotioned a cool substance over the raw skin. 

Steve wiped your tears, pushing the hair from your face in order to admire you more closely. You looked even more beautiful with your wet stained cheeks and he loved the way your eyelashes laid against your cheeks when your eyes were closed. 

“Please don’t do that again,” Steve heard you whisper. He grabbed your chin and your eyes fluttered open again. You looked at him in a way he hadn’t noticed before, like you were seeing him for the first time. 

Steve didn’t want to argue with you anymore, knowing he could get his point across more clearly with you when he was physical. He brought his lips toward your hesitant ones. Steve knew you wouldn’t pull away, your body wouldn’t let you run away from that sort of pleasure, and he deepened it further. 

This wasn’t his first kiss since the 40’s but it sure felt like something new. Steve held your hips and he could sense you get overwhelmed by your wandering hands. He wanted to feel all of you although he knew he’d have to avoid your bottom after his cruel handiwork. He caressed your back, your thighs, and made his way to the back of your neck. He held you in his strong grip, keeping your lips tight against his as he moved his against yours. 

His stubble brushed against your skin, tickling you as his lips moved to your neck. 

Steve kissed and sucked on your neck and moans and mewls fell from your lips. Steve could tell you were extra sensitive there and it sparked his curiosity. He made it his new mission to find the most sensitive parts of your body, the ones that made your body writhe with pleasure, and one day he’d torture you slowly by focusing on each one. 

Steve had to feel between your legs, had to taste and smell you. You were to be his mate, he was the only one to have you in this way, and he’d relish every moment of your first time. He teased your clit with his pointer finger. You closed your legs, an attempt to hide away but he was stronger, “Give yourself to me,” He rasped against your throat, “Or I’ll take it.”

You were already soaking the comforter and Steve heard your words becoming practically incoherent, “I … please … I …so-so … “

Steve pressed your front into the mattress, deciding to take his place behind you, his commanding hands lifting your hips into the air. Your ass was still sore and Steve could feel your fear that he would hurt you again but all you felt was the lips that were just on yours dipping between your legs. He lapped at you furiously, his tongue dipping inside you, licking up and down before it swirled around your sensitive bud.

You moaned into the comforter and Steve rubbed his hard member through his sweatpants. Normally, he might’ve kissed you longer, massaged you longer, or waited until you had a few more orgasms against his tongue but he had to be inside his little Omega. 

After he gave you your first orgasm, Steve revealed his cock, wasting no time sheathing himself inside of you. 

It felt right, although your body was so much smaller, it was the perfect fit. You’d never done this before but your body was ready, you accepted him with a little bit of easing, “There you go, honey, you’re doing so good,” Your head turned to the side, Steve watched your eyes roll back as he went deep inside of you. 

He slowly pressed your hips back down against the mattress, moving in and out of you with ease. He felt every time you tightened around his cock, your body releasing all the tension beneath your skin. Steve removed his t-shirt, beginning to break a sweat although he still had a lot left within him.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He asked, going harder. 

“Don’t stop,” Was your response which made him smile.

“Ask me politely,” Steve slowed his pace, teasing you.

“Please don’t stop,” You spoke quickly and he could tell you were close to convulsing again, “Please, Steve.”

“Good, Omega,” Steve went harder again, knowing you went crazy when he pulled himself all the way out and shoved himself deeper again, “Good girl.”

“Thank you,” You mewled, “I’m your good girl.”

It wasn’t long before your words coaxed him into his own orgasm. He felt his own sense of euphoria as he released inside you, feeling your warm walls around him until his body allowed him to relax. Steve laid beside your shaking body, caressing your back as he pressed his nose into your hair.

“I’m your good girl?” He heard you whisper and he now realized how much his words meant to you. You wanted his reassurance when you were within your most vulnerable state. He knew you were wrong before in saying this side of you was not the real you. 

“Yes,” Steve kissed your shoulder, “You’re my good little girl. Forever, honey.”

part two

#dark!steve rogers #black!reader #steve rogers x black!reader #dark steve rogers x reader #mcu smut #dark fics #bucky barnes #maria hill #alpha omega #alpha/beta/omega AU #a/b/o universe #avengers a/b/o

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: You find out König's birthday is coming up.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, Arousal (does that count as a warning?)

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.

A/n: ok, ya'll go feral for domestic Konig. Honestly same though. I love a slow burn because I want to watch you guys suffer! Mwhahahahaha. I hope you guys enjoy.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Three:

Over a week, you and König fell into a comfortable routine. You felt like a middle schooler with a crush around him. Every morning, one of you would wake the other and greet each other with a kiss. You'd be lying if you said you didn't look forward to it. Konig made an effort not to be too forceful with his affection, but he can't help it sometimes. 

“König! I have to work, move!” You giggled.

He currently had your arms pinned to your sides tightly. He held you down on the couch as his face inched closer to yours. 

“No, one more kiss Liebe.” 

“I gave you so many!” You tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“One more before I go.” He looked at you sadly. 

“It's just the grocery store König, you'll live.” 

He looked at you with the sweetest puppy dog eyes he could muster. You gave in and pecked his lips quickly. He chased your lips as you pulled away, capturing them once again before releasing you. You sat up and pouted at him as he put on his mask. He waved to you cheekily before leaving. All the laughing made your bladder urge you to go. You walked into the bathroom and did your business. As you washed your hands something on the edge of the sink caught your eye. His dog tags were there, probably placed there this morning. You picked them up curiously. They had just his name König, no last name. Was that his real name? His company and date of birth were also on there. It read October 4th. Your eyes widened. His birthday was in a couple of days, why didn't he tell you? 

You rushed out of the bathroom and to your computer to make a note on your calendar. You knew Konig was a private person, he barely talked about his childhood or any family he might have. You didn't pry for these things, he would tell you in his own time. But his birthday?! That was unacceptable. You decided to plan a little surprise for him, an intimate surprise party. Honestly, he didn't seem like the type to celebrate his birthday. Now that you are here, that's gonna change. 

You sat at the dining room table doing a little bit of research on what you could do for him. You got lost in researching cute little decorations and food, you jumped when the door opened. You quickly changed tabs and pretended to be writing. Königset the groceries down on the table and took off his mask. You looked up at him and smiled. He walked around the table and put his phone and wallet on the table while kissing your cheek. You got up to help him put the groceries away eyeing his phone. You didn't know how to get him to leave you for a couple of hours to execute the surprise, but you had an idea. After the food was put away he went to his room. You moved quickly grabbing his phone. It was a flip phone, you didn't know those still existed. His most used contact was you, but under that two other names popped up. Ghost, and Soap. Military names... You decided to take Soap's number down, too intimidated by the name Ghost to ask him. You hoped this person could help you out. You put his phone back in the same spot he placed it and sat down inconspicuously. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You said goodnight to König with a kiss and closed your door. Sitting on the edge of your nest you nervously composed your text to whoever soap was. 

'Hello, Soap! I know this is weird but I'm König's Omega. I got your number from his phone. I have a favor to ask you if you're up for it. I hope this isn't too unprofessional for him.'

You sent the text, immediately placing your phone down to try to forget about it. You brainstormed other ideas in case this one didn't work out. Your phone buzzed and you gasped quietly. You picked up your phone and looked at the notification, Soap had texted you back.

'Definitely weird to hear from you lol. I hoped to meet you in real life before we spoke but this is ok as well. What kind of favor?'

'I'm sorry about that. The reason I'm contacting you is because König's Birthday is in a few days on October 4th. I was hoping that someone can get him out of the house for a few hours while I set up his surprise. He never leaves my side, so I just need some time. He doesn't seem to have any friends outside of work so...'

'I see, that's no problem love. It takes him about an hour and a half to get to the base. So I'll make him come in for something little. That should give you about 3 to 4 hours.' He responded.

'Omg, that would be great! Thank you so so so much! I'll be sure to get you something when we meet Soap.'

'You're welcome. I could already tell you're a sweetheart doing something like this for the colonal'

'You flatter me :)' 

You went to bed that night proud of yourself. The plan was underway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was hard keeping König out of the loop. He was over your shoulder constantly interested in things you were doing. He almost caught you ordering a cake. You planned to have an at-home movie night for him. You'd have to get snacks, the cake, and balloons, as well as make the pillow fort. You made a meticulous list of what to buy at every store and your walking path to optimize time. Making the pillow fort was gonna take the longest. You were gonna make a nest inside and invite him into it. You haven't let him into your bedroom nest officially but you'd like to soon, this could be a good introduction to that. When the day came around Soap warned you that König might be a little upset on the day. He explicitly told his soldiers not to contact him while he was on leave. 

Pissed was an understatement. König was fuming. He tried to hide it from you but his scent was so sour it was hard for you to be in the room. 

“What's wrong Alpha?” He rushed through the apartment almost stomping. 

“Nothing Schatz.” He responded shortly. 

You almost felt bad making him this upset. You hoped it would be worth it. König told you he would be gone for a couple of hours and promptly left. You looked out the window, watching him get into the car and drive off. You texted Soap asking for the all-clear. 

'Is he on his way?' 

'Yes, he's gonna kill me. I told him that he needed to come in but it was only for some paperwork Ghost could've done.' 

' I'll tell him that it was all me and to let you off the hook. I'm gonna bake you something you like cookies?' 

'Love them.' 

'Good.'

You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. The first stop was to get his gift. You wanted to get him something he needed but also something sentimental. You landed on a leather briefcase. Although he was on leave, there were still things he needed to sign off on as a corporal. His documents were always splayed out on the table only to be messily placed in a folder. The shop that makes them does hand embroidery. You requested them to put your's and Konig's initials' on it with a heart in the middle. It was in a beautiful font on the front corner of the bag. The bag pick up was fast as it was only a ten-minute walk. Next was the party store. You weren't going to overdo it with the decor but you wanted it to be a little festive. It took you a little while to pick out things but you eventually settled on simple green balloons and a happy birthday banner. You also got a box and wrapping paper for your gift. 

You checked the time a little over an hour went by so far. König has to be close to the base by now. Soap will text you when he's on his way back. The next and last stop was the grocery store. You were gonna make him a classic American dinner, save for the red dye 40. Burgers and American-style fries were the way to go since you were sure you wouldn't be able to find much American food in Amsterdam. As you were gathering the ingredients Soap texted you. 

'König is on his way home. I couldn't convince him that he should stay for a few more minutes. It should take him 2 hours because of traffic.'

'Shit ok, thanks for the heads up. I appreciate you Soap.'

'No problem, Love. Take pictures for ghost and I please.'

'Of course.'

You practically ran through the grocery store to pick up the last items and checked out. When you got home you were sweaty and out of breath. You had two hours to cook, set up the fort, wrap his gift, and decorate. You had your work cut out for you. You didn't bother putting the groceries away, placing them on the kitchen counter, and running to your room. You grabbed extra blankets that you didn't use for your nest and put them in the living room. You hung a sheet with thumbtacks and lined it with pillows. The fort didn't take as long as you thought it would. You chalked it up to your nesting skills. You hung some fairy lights on the inside making sure you still had a good view of the TV. You went to the dining room table and began wrapping the briefcase. you brought a simple brown paper with moons on it. After you finished you started blowing up balloons. After you blew up a few balloons you froze. 

The Cake! How could you forget! You called the bakery telling them you were on your way. You checked the time. You only had an hour left. You left the door unlocked and power walked down the street. You kept checking the time watching the clock run down. It took you seven minutes to get to the bakery. They handed you the cake and you power walked back to the apartment careful not to bump the cake. You placed the cake in the fridge and preheated the oven before blowing up more balloons. You had forty minutes left and you still had to cook. Once you were satisfied with the amount of balloons you placed the fries in the oven and started making the burgers. You had 25 minutes left. 

While the burgers were cooking you got the toppings ready and took the cake out placing it on the table. The burgers were cooked you assembled them on a plate and piled fries on the side. You made very American concoctions of condiments. Mayo and ketchup, ranch and mustard, ketchup and ranch. You placed the plates on the table. You ran to change into PJs and turn the lights down. You found some candles to use on the table making the mood romantic. Movement outside caught your eye. You pulled the curtain back seeing König's car pulling into a parking space. You glanced around once more making sure everything was in order. You stood near the dining room table waiting for him to open the door. The key turned and in walked a very annoyed-looking König. 

“Surprise!” You said sheepishly.

König's eyes widened. He had his sniper hood on but promptly took it off. He looked around at the decorations and then toward the table. 

“You...Schatz, what is this?” 

“Your birthday party! Happy birthday Konig.” 

König closed the door slowly his eyes taking in everything you set up for him. He had an unreadable expression on his face making you a bit nervous. 

“Do you like it?” You asked.

König's face dropped. He covered his face with both of his hands. He tried to hold back the tears but they fell anyway. You grabbed his arms trying to soothe him. 

“Oh no! I'm sorry Alpha please don't cry. Did I do something wrong?”

König chuckled through his sobs. “No Schatz. I'm just...very surprised.”

He pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, Omega.”

You hugged him back. “Why are you crying, König?”

“I've never celebrated my birthday. My parents never did anything for me. This is a nice surprise.”

“Come, let's eat.” You guide him to the table.

His plate had a bigger burger with more fries. He sat down the tears still dropping occasionally. 

“Don't be mad at Soap.” You said. König looked up and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“You know Soap? How?”

“Well, I had to find a way to get you out of the house for a few hours so I kinda got his number from your phone and convinced him to make you come into work for something stupid so I had time to set this all up.” You said without taking a breath.

“Wow, what a plan liebe.” He chuckled.

“You didn't have to do all this for me.” He said

“I know, but I wanted to. So please let Soap off the hook colonel? ” You smiled. 

“Sure liebe.” 

The two of you ate as he asked you about your sneaky plans to make this happen and how he suspected nothing. After you were done you cut him a slice of cake and sent him to change into PJs. You formally invited him into the fort you built making sure he was cozy. 

“Ok so we have a few options, but I also wanted to surprise you with the movie. Pick a number between one and five.”

“Hmm, four.” 

“Ok close your eyes.” He covered them and you searched for the movie. He chose 'V for Vendetta'. Once the movie was on you told him he could look. 

“What is this?” He asked

“V for Vendetta. I love this movie.”

“I have never seen it.”

“Good, you're in for a treat.”

You cuddled him tightly in the nest fort. He fed you your slice of cake so you wouldn't have to move. Suddenly you gasped and grabbed the remote to pause the movie. 

“Ugh, I forgot again! My brain is all over the place today.” 

You ran to your room and grabbed his birthday present. back in the fort, you gave it to him. 

“Happy Birthday Alpha.” 

“This is too much Liebe.” 

“Just open it!”

He tore the paper and opened the box, taking care not to make a mess. When he saw the briefcase his lips parted slightly taking in the detail you added to it. The urge to cry was overwhelming to him but he held it back. 

“I don't deserve you.” He said.

“No, you deserve more.”

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down into the nest resting his cheek against your forehead.

“How can I thank you?”

“There's no repayment for a birthday gift König.”

“There will be for you.”

“No no, it's not my birthday.” You insisted. 

“I don't care.” He gave you a stubborn look.

“König-”

“Be quiet, I won't say it again.” He said sternly.

You nodded. When he put his foot down it was extremely difficult for you to defy him. The Apex rarely used his authority over you like that but you supposed he didn't know how to simply accept someone doing something nice for him. Despite his stern tone he caressed for face giving you sweet kisses on your cheek and forehead. You smiled and leaned into him. You hit play on the movie holding him until you both fell asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stirred awake feeling weight on your waist. You looked back seeing König sleeping form. He almost looked boyish, hair messy, and a König's until he woke up naturally before moving, not wanting to wake him from his peace-filled rest. It didn't take long before König's eyes fluttered open. You turned to his and smiled. He kissed you deeply. You returned the kiss with passion, his tongue slipped into your mouth licking yours playfully. When he pulled away s a string of saliva was connecting the two of you. 

“Good morning to you too.” You giggled.

You sat up and stretched. You cleaned up the fort a bit from last night putting his gift in his room. He followed you around sleepily trying to help you tidy up. After you finished you went back into the nest fort and turned the TV on. König followed you in, collapsing beside you. 

He grabbed your hips pulling your ass against him. His hand trailed up your front resting loosely around your neck. König has been keeping his sexual urges at bay, his resolve was starting to chip away every day. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, the tip of his nose brushing against your scent glands. You shivered and clenched your legs together. You tried not to let his ministrations get to you but it was proving difficult when he knew exactly how to get you going. 

König pressed a kiss to your scent gland and you moaned softly. Encouraged by the small gasps and moans you gave him, he nibbled and licked the same spot.

“König...” He stopped.

He pulled back and smiled. “Sorry, Liebe.” He got up and headed to the bathroom to shower. 

He left you with a hot face and a puddle in between your legs. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: I hope all the tags worked

@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken @midwesternwitchery @hiken-no-stark @rouge-swears @the-chaotic-cow @a-gay-cryptid @wybwtjmiadz @somanyminidragons @tizylish @smutslutsposts @y2katsuki @thychuvaluswife @gxdsmonsters

#konig fluff #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x you #konig x reader #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig x y/n #könig fluff #könig #könig cod #colonel könig #cod mwii fanfic #cod mwii #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alpha konig #tw a/b/o #a/b/o fic

[moorishflower]

Make perfect the present (Dream/Hob Western A/B/O AU) Chapter 1 is up!

Make perfect the present || Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling || Explicit || 1/17

Alternate Universe - Western, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Western, Cowboys & Cowgirls, Historical References, Probably inaccurate horseback riding, Poetry, References to Oscar Wilde, Period-Typical Sexism, Victorian Attitudes, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Attempted Sexual Assault, Gun Violence, Blood and Violence, Rap Battles, Bandits & Outlaws, Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Pining, BAMF Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling Saves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus from Roderick Burgess, POV Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Kidnapping, Period-Typical Racism

In the summer of 1895, Morpheus Sanfin – poet, omega, and disappointment to his wealthy father – flees England on the heels of Oscar Wilde's imprisonment for gross indecency out of fear that he will be condemned for the same unnatural urges. Seeking a new life in America away from the stifling hand of his father and the expectations of his sex, Morpheus sets out for California with Hob Gadling, a mustang driver who agrees to guide him, not knowing that along the way they will encounter natural wonders, the ghosts of their pasts, and perils that will force Morpheus to reconcile with both his sex and his feelings for his new companion.

Chapter 1 is up on AO3!

The fantastic header is from art done by @fishfingersandscarves. Thank you so much darlin for letting me use it <3

#the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my fic #dream/hob #dream of the endless/hob gadling #alpha/beta/omega verse #western AU #cowboy AU

[sarahowritesostucky]

Happy Little Family

📖"A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat: Just like her Mommy"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4407

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: Bucky shows up unannounced at your cottage, shattering the peaceful life you thought you'd reclaimed for yourself and your daughter. He's reclaiming what's his, and he isn't planning on accepting a "no."

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

1. A Clever, Tricky Little Kitty Cat, Just like her Mommy

"And then the knight took the princess away to his castle, and they lived happily ever after."

You're just outside the nursery when you hear his voice, and ice cold fear instantly floods your chest. You drop the laundry basket and run into the room, and there he is: seated in the chair you nurse from, reading one of the antique fairytale books that your mom gave at the shower, holding your baby. 

"James," you breathe, horrified. He's been smiling down at June, but now his face smooths out as he looks up at you. He isn't frowning or glaring, but you know him, and there's a storm behind those eyes that makes dread curl heavy in your stomach. "Hi Doll," he says quietly. "It's good to see you again."

Your heart pounds in your chest. You feel sick. One wrong move and who knows what he'll do. You take a cautious step forward, eyes searching James' body and anywhere nearby for a gun. You don't see one. You take another step. "James," you warn,

June makes a happy gurgle at seeing you, and James coos down at her, "Aw, yeah Sweetie. I'm happy to see Mommy too."

Mommy. Hearing that word come out of his mouth, in a setting like this, is a nightmare you've woken from more than once. You lick your lips and hold out your arms, pleading, "Please give her to me."

He acts like he hasn't even heard you, smiling and tapping June's body with one finger. "We were just reading a story. Little lady is gonna be a big reader one day, I bet. Gonna grow up to be real smart." His gaze slides back to you, with what you interpret as a world-of-hurt-coming-your-way look glimmering in his eyes. "A clever, tricky little kitty cat. Just like her Mommy."

A whimper escapes you, unbidden. 

June starts squirming in his lap, eager to get to you. When he doesn’t hand her over, she starts to fuss. He coos at her and bounces her in his arms to calm her, kisses the top of her head while keeping his somber, reproachful eyes on you. “You left your door unlocked,” he says. “She was alone.”

She’d been down for her nap when you went downstairs and popped across the street to visit with Hilde, your one friend in the world. It’s so common for mothers to do, in this tiny, Nordic village you’ve settled in. It’s the culture here. It’s supposed to be safe. You swallow thickly, eyes flitting around to try and think of what to do. You think of your gun, so far away. You’d talked yourself out of keeping it tucked behind your bed, so now the only weapon you own is down in the kitchen. But maybe … maybe if you can get him away from June … 

“You should be more careful, Little thief. You never know who might break in and take everything you love.”

“The only thing we had to guard against here was you,” you hiss. “And I’m not fool enough to think a locked door would keep you out.”

“You’re damned right it wouldn’t.” He tosses the storybook aside like trash and stands up with June in his arms. “But you are a fool if you thought there was anywhere in the world you could go where I wouldn’t find you.”

You flinch forward compulsively, unable to think of your own safety over your baby’s. “Please, James,” you beg. “Please. Just give her to me.” 

“Oh no, Dollface,” he purrs, voice deceptively soft. “We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, and you aren’t gonna want her in the room when it happens.” His hands tighten threateningly on June’s little body. “Whose baby is this?”

You blanch. “Don’t hurt her.” 

“Aw. You don’t want me to hurt her?” 

“No, please!” The sob that’s been working its way up in your throat finally breaks. It’s killing you not to rush forward and snatch her from his arms. “Please, I'll do anything.”

“Is that so?” He stares at you long and hard. The few seconds of silence are torturous as he holds your daughter away from you. 

James is one of the deadliest people you’ve ever met, and he’s capable of horrendous violence, but he wouldn’t hurt a baby, that much you do know. What you have to worry about most right now isn’t him physically hurting her; it’s him wanting her, whisking her away right alongside you, when he inevitably takes you from this place. There’s nothing you can do to prevent your own fate, but if there’s anything you can do to keep him from getting his hands on June, you’ll do it. Your eyes flit around the nursery frantically, its pale, dream-like decorations taunting you as you try to think of what to do. It feels surreal to have a man like James standing in this room, feels wrong.

Your heart leaps when he suddenly moves, but he’s only turning to walk over to the crib, bending and placing June in it with a surprising amount of care. Something painful lances in your chest at seeing him handle her so gently, but when he turns back around to you, all of that gentleness is gone. “Come on,” he snaps. “To the other bedroom.” 

You hesitate, not wanting to leave your daughter alone, but he stalks forward and grabs your upper arm, herding you out of the nursery and down the hallway. In your bedroom, he pushes you onto the bed. You land in a heap and scramble to prop back up on your hands, trying to swipe the hair out of your face.

“Whose baby is that?” he demands. “Tell me. I want to hear you say it.”

His Voice. God. After almost a year and a half it should be lessened. The pull you feel when you hear it has no right to tug at you the way it does. You’re not even mated, which makes it all the more insulting. It gets in through your ears and spreads throughout your body, like an invasive plant, growing and sinking its roots into you and tug, tug tugging on your will: Whose baby is that.

You fight the awful urge to tell him, as you rapidly, fearfully weigh your options. It’s hard to think when you’re so frightened, so taken aback. Most people might think it wise to admit the truth, but you know this man, this alpha, and you know he’ll never let her go if he knows that she’s his. Anything, you think. You have to do anything you can to keep her from that life, that world. 

Heart in your throat, you insist, “Noone.”

“Noone?” His visage darkens. “Artificial insemination, then? I know they’re progressive and all up here, but don’t take me for a fool, mamochka.”

“It was just some guy! Just a one night stand, I swear!”

He surges in, gets one knee up on the bed and pushes you onto your back when you try to get up, leaning over you and holding you down by your shoulders. “So you did let another man fuck you,” he growls.

You jut your chin out and hiss, “Yes.” (Lying Rule #1: deliver your bullshit with confidence).

“Who? Was he alpha?”

“Why do you care? It was one night in Oslo.” (Rule #2: add in one or two unimportant details.)

“What’s. his. name?” 

A bitter sound escapes you (Rule #3: attach honest emotion to it, if you can). “I don’t know his name. I never did. I was just racking up a roster, just wanted to get laid after getting away from you.”

He bares his teeth at you in a snarl, furious, and shoves you harder against the mattress. You cry out and try to hit him, but he catches your wrists and holds them down to the bed easily, shoving you again, one of his powerful thighs pressed up between yours. “You’re mine,” he growls, getting in your face, lying on top of you. “Noone else’s. Not ever.”

You whimper and nod, shaken and keenly aware of his body on top of yours, his strength. James is a massive hulk of an alpha, capable of overpowering you in any situation, and even through your frantic thoughts, you know you’ll never be able to get away from him in close contact like this. He’s so angry, his scent gone thick and choking. You’re too panicked to plan out what it is you’re going to say next, you just wind up instinctively trying to placate him, blurting out, “What do you want?”

He leers down at you. “I want what’s mine. What’s always been mine.” On your wrists, his fingers tighten cruelly. “You’ve had your fun now, and gotten away with it for too damn long. You’re coming home with me, Little thief.”

You gasp as the pressure on your wrists increases painfully, mind flying to that cold, Siberian fortress and the life that awaits you there. You might be able to get away from him before then, but you might not, and you can’t risk June being trapped there as well. “Okay, okay! I’ll go with you, I will. Wherever you want. Just … Please let me give her to the neighbor. Please.”

He smiles nastily down at you. “Oh, you don’t want her to come along? Another man’s pup?”

Tears press at the backs of your eyes at the thought of leaving your daughter behind, but you shake your head. “Please. Just take her over to the woman across the street. She’ll look after her. Please James, she's my daughter. I won’t fight you if you leave her there. She’s nothing to you. Just let her stay where it’s safe.” 

Something in his expression shifts, but you don’t have time to figure out what the emotion might be, before he shutters again. He leans down and purrs, “Oh, I don’t know, vorishka [little thief]. You stole some very valuable things from me. And since I don’t see any fucking Picassos hanging in this hovel you call a house, I assume they’re in the wind.”

It wasn’t as though you’d simply been able to run away. Escaping had required finances, techniques, firms of dangerous men hired to plant false leads, erase tracks, ferret you away into oblivion, and then move halfway across the globe and buy yourself a new identity. The bribes alone had eaten up most of the money. You shudder in his grip, knowing that the paintings wouldn’t save you, even if you did have them. “They’re gone.” 

“I know they’re gone, Little thief.” He shoves his thigh down against you. “So how are you gonna make it up to me?”

You whimper. “I can’t,” you plead. “James. I don’t have anything.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I can think of a few ways you can start repaying your debt.” He runs one hand down your side, groping your waist as he breathes softly against your ear: “For instance, do you have any idea what she’d be worth on the black market?”

It takes you a split second to figure out what he means, and your heart seizes in terror as soon as you do. You know James is involved in every type of shady, illegal dealing there is in the world, but you’d never even considered the idea of human trafficking. Now that he’s said it, you panic that you’ve made a huge mistake by lying that the baby isn’t his. “James,” you whisper, horrified. “Alpha, please.”

“Oh, it’s Alpha, now, is it?” He chuckles meanly, the sound making your stomach churn. You’re about to say something else, beg in some other, pitiful way, tell him he’s June’s father, but instead you cry out as his hand fists in your hair and yanks your head to the side. His breath hits hot against your skin and he drags his nose up the side of your neck, scenting you. “Mmm,” he hums darkly, pleased. “You spread your legs for another man, but you didn’t let anyone in here.”

You squeak when his teeth scrape over your still-unmarked glands. “No!” you gasp, just as much an answer as it is a plea for nim not to bite you. “I didn’t, I didn’—”

“Shut up,” he snaps, closing his teeth down on the spot. You whine as he pulls your hair and slowly increases the pressure of his bite, threatening to break the skin. Horrified, you feel your body responding with arousal, heat blooming deep in your core. You squeeze your eyes shut, and sure enough few seconds later James is inhaling deeply and chuckling. “Oh, kotenok [kitten]. Still the same as ever, huh?” He shifts, hand slipping down between your legs and cupping you from over the fabric of your dress. “Ripe for your Alpha’s touch, even after all this time. How sweet.” Humiliated rage bubbles up inside of you and you glare up at him. He’s looking down fondly at you, eyes heated and lip drawn into his mouth. He lets it slide back out between his teeth and murmurs, “It’s okay, you know. It’s everything to me, omegechka [little omega], the way you respond. It’s only natural.” You growl angrily, but he just hums and tugs your hair again, other hand molding to your mound and rubbing. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, when you cry out louder. “Don’t want to scare the whelp, do you?” 

You freeze, listening to try and hear June. She’s whining from over in her room,  not understanding why she’s been left alone when she can hear her mommy’s voice just down the hall. “Please,” you whisper, locking eyes with James again. “Please. Let me go to her.”

He grinds the heel of his hand against you. “I told you, Dollface. You don’t want her here for this.”

He kisses you on the mouth, chaste and lingering; so gentle that for a split second it makes you ache for what you once had with him. James always was very good at making love to you, at lavishing you with a softness and a tenderness even in the darkest of times. But now you can only shiver underneath his weight, because you know that’s not what’s about to happen. 

“Seventeen months, moya omegya,”  he rumbles quietly, lips brushing yours with the words. “My bed suddenly cold, not knowing if you were alive or dead. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

His tone of voice is so intimately familiar that it makes your heart clench, bringing back memories of a life you’ve fought so hard to put behind you. “Please,” you whisper. “Don’t do this.”

He tuts and shakes his head softly, as if he’s actually remorseful. “How this goes depends entirely on you. I want you to know that.” He hasn’t stopped working his hand against you, rubbing his palm against your clit and smiling at how you shudder beneath him and your body betrays you. You watch his nostrils flare as he smells the reaction he’s pulling from you against your will. “Sweet girl,” he coos. “You just can’t help it, can you?” You toss your head and screw your eyes shut, but he’s having none of it. He yanks your hair and hisses at you to open your eyes. “No,” he warns, once he’s got your attention. He moves back, getting up onto his knees and shrugging off his jacket. “You’re going to watch. The whole time.” His hands land on his belt, the buckle clinking as he opens it and undoes his pants. “I want to look right in your eyes while I take back what’s mine.” He shoves his pants down along with his underwear. His cock springs free, already hard and wet at the tip. A part of him that’s been inside you hundreds of times, probably. Something you’ve craved and debased yourself for. 

Seeing it reignites your shame, but it’s the way you feel your cunt pulse and release a fresh wave of slick, that really makes you start resisting again. “Nnh!”

“Ah ah ah, Dollface. That’s not gonna work.”

“Nugh! Lemmo go!”  

You fight, of course you do, but it’s almost worse that way, as it only points out how comically mismatched you are to him. He laughs at you and holds down your thrashing body, barely even grunting from the effort of subduing you. “Shh sh sh,” he hushes, chuckling breathily as he forces you down with one hand and strokes himself with the other. “I have to tell you, kotenok. I’ve been looking forward to this.” 

“I hate you!” You manage to get a hand free and you flail, hitting and clawing at him. He inhales sharply as your nails scratch his face. He knocks your hand away with a surprised hiss and, wide eyed, touches the spot where a tiny line of red is welling up on his cheek. The next thing you know, he’s backhanding you, sending spots into your vision and knocking you out of your senses for a few seconds. Your ears ring and you blink, stunned.

His hand appears at your throat, squeezing, pressing up against the arteries. You briefly grapple with him, grabbing his forearm and fighting, but then his thumb notches into place and digs into your glands. Your cries taper off and you go limp with a pathetic, mewling whimper. “Nnnh …”

He leers down at you, adjusting his grip, still jerking his cock as he subdues you with the Hold. “Weak,” he says. “But that’s just how I like you.”

His thumb rubs in circles, sending a rush of liquid gold through your veins. It worsens the situation between your legs, and you can’t hide that any more than you can hide the humiliated tears that prick to your eyes as he shoves your dress up and rips your underwear straight off of you. He coos when he looks down and sees how wet you are. “Oh, omegechka.” He knees your legs further apart and drags his cockhead through your folds. “And this is you hating me?”

You shake with a silent sob, despising him with your whole being, hating yourself for reacting this way. Before James, you’d never met a man who coveted your omega nature so much, hadn’t known what it was to need an alpha that way, to have your body need him. And to think: you used to like it.

He lines himself up and sinks inside of you in one, unyielding push, forcing you to open to him, carving out his space inside of you. You cry out at the force of it, body clamping down hard and the delicate skin at your entrance stinging from the stretch, but he doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated. “Fuck,” he groans, grinding in deep, his pubic bone pressing against your clit, laughing darkly when it makes you squeal. “Oh, you sensitive?” He does it again, and again, doesn’t stop until he gets a high pitched, warbling moan from you. “Theere she is.” He digs his thumb in harder against your glands and stares right in your eyes as he watches the effect it has on you, soaking up the flush in your face and the furious tears welling at the corners of your eyes. “I know, Sweetheart, I know,” he murmurs. “You really can’t help it, can you?” You whimper and he nods along in mock sympathy. “Poor little thing. I can’t imagine what it must be like, to need it that bad.” 

“James,”

He pulls out halfway and shoves back in, hard, rumbling in pleasure when it elicits another yelp from you. His other hand grabs at your waist, fingers digging into the soft give of your body. He hums dirtily. “I have to say, I’m pleasantly surprised. You look good for having just pushed out that pup. You look healthy.” You whine in protest and he fucks in hard again, baring his teeth in a mean smile. “Yeah, momma, you heard me.” He pulls out, thrusts back in. 

“Ss-stop.”

He laughs. “Don’t be like that, krasotka [Pretty(n.)]. I like it. You always were too skinny for my taste.” He runs his hand from your waist up to the top of your dress, yanking it down along with the cup of your bra, and groaning when your swollen breast spills out. You squeal in rage as he curses quietly, eyes going molten and unfocused. “Fuck, Honey, look at you.”

You start thrashing again hard, trying to hit him, but you only get a glancing blow to the side of his head before he refixes his hand on your throat and clamps down in another Hold. He gives you a firm shake. “Settle down. I told you: I like it..”

“Nnn, fuck you!” You spit on him, but he only laughs and wipes it away, leering down at you and continuing gleefully,

“Shouldn’t be skinny like some damn underwear model. Mm mn, naw. Now you’re nice and soft, just like you should be. Somethin’ for Alpha to grab onto. Bitty waist and a fat ass.” He grabs your waist again and pulls you down into the next roll of his hips, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside of you that makes stars burst in your vision.

“Ah!” 

“Mmhm. Right there baby? Yeah, thaat’s the spot. I remember.” He’s panting open-mouthed, breathless as he taunts you, “I remember everything. What you like. How you feel. The sounds you make. Fuck.”  He shoves into you hard and holds there, his licked-red lips curling up wickedly. “Your cunt’s fluttering around me, Sweetheart. Clamping down so fucking hard.” 

“Nnh!”

He laughs, but his smile slackens as his own pleasure continues to build. He angles back and looks down your body, stares at where his cock is disappearing inside of you with lewd, wet sounds. “Shit, momma. And this pussy snapped back real good, didn’t it?” 

You cry out angrily, but it’s what he wants: to see you aroused and humiliated and furious at him. He sets a punishing pace, his hips slamming against you hard on the end of each, brutal thrust; his open belt and the zip of his fly digging into your ass every time he grinds inside. “You haven't been fucking anybody,” he says smugly. “How long’s it really been, mamochka? Hm? How long since another man was in this cunt?”

You moan miserably, his cock driving hard against your walls, too rough but not painful enough to keep it from feeling good. James is big, has an alpha’s cock, and it’s never been a physical possibility for him to be inside of you and not rub against every spot that makes your body light up in pleasure. You shake your head and try to close your eyes, but he pushes his hand up harder underneath your jaw, shaking you. “Uh uh. Look at me.” 

You can’t fight off the command of his Voice, not when he’s already dominating you so completely. Your eyes open against your will, full of tears, and he rumbles in satisfaction. 

“Better.”

Every whimper and mewl you make drives him on, stoking the angry satisfaction that’s burning in his eyes—eyes that you can’t look away from as you cry out again and again, little “Ah, ah, ah's” that interrupt the cadence of your skin slapping together, all of his eager growls and satisfied grunts.

“That’s it, shlyukha,” he pants, hips snapping in hard, again and again. “You—ugh—you let Alpha know how good that feels. Don’t hold it back from me.” His breathing is getting heavier the closer he gets, his composure and even his anger losing some of their hold as he fucks you harder, sinks down on you farther, covers you with his body fully as he ruts into you in pursuit of his climax. “Shit,”  he hisses not far from your ear, face stuffed in your neck. 

You keen high in your throat at his proximity to your bonding glands—a plaintive sound that directly contradicts the panicked ‘no!’ that flashes in your brain. His hand leaves the front of your neck and scoops around behind instead, gripping you at the nape in a Scruff that feels just as toe-curlingly right as the Hold had. 

For a very split second, his breath hitches and his growling trips into a needy whimper. “O-oh …” And that’s when you feel it: his knot starting to catch on the end of each thrust.

“Ah!” You cry out sharply and grab onto him, helpless to keep your body from seeking out more, from clinging to him and clamping down hard as his knot grows and triggers you into orgasm. “Hhgnn …”

He goes feral when he feels your body locking down on him, growling and shoving in and grinding to ensure that he catches inside and ties you together. His hand abandons your neck entirely as he gives in to the instinct to rut, both arms wrapping around your waist, scooping under your back and holding you still for him to fuck furiously against. The tug of his knot inside your cunt makes you sob and come harder, losing sense of yourself as the pleasure cuts through you like a knife. 

“Fuck, fuck, ohhfuck …” The sound of his deep voice, so lost in the desperation and helplessness of his own pleasure, makes your belly flare hot with new arousal even as you’re coming down the other side of it. You gasp and pant, and eventually whimper as the bliss dissipates and you become more aware of him on top of you, grunting and groaning and fucking into your tie as he rides out the long, debilitating climax of an alpha.

You keep your eyes closed and cry, hating that it still feels good as he fucks into you, grinds down on your clit and gives your another orgasm, and another. You wait for him to finish as your brain fills with the high that comes after, that unavoidable pink cloud that you know is going to seal your fate and make you helpless to him for the next thirty minutes, at least. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head in the direction of the pillows. 

As the high starts to take you, you think about how, if you’d just kept your gun holstered behind by the headboard like you’d planned, you could be blowing his brains out right about now.

A.N.: Soooo ... This is the rape-iest thing I've ever ever written. I hope y'all are okay. Just wanted to drop a note to let you know that this fic WILL lighten up and not be quite so, well, rapey, in the future. Thanks for reading! 💖Sarah

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[violet-1atte]

Kinktober Day Thirty-One: A/B/O - Felix/Changbin

The grand finale! <3

Tags: Alpha!Felix, omega!Changbin, alpha/omega dynamics, mating cycles/heat, mating bites, claiming, breeding, pregnancy discussion, implied mpreg, scent kink

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“Felix, it's time. Hyunjin and Jisung and I are going to leave to give you guys some privacy. Take care of him.” 

It’s time. 

The dorm smelled overwhelmingly sweet. Maple and vanilla with a hint of cinnamon hit Felix in the face the second he opened the door. It was so strong it made his eyes water, but at the same time, his mouth watered as well. His fangs poked at the inside of his bottom lip and his nostrils flared. Omega, his alpha supplied. My omega. He kicked off his shoes by the door and rushed to Changbin’s room. 

As he got to the door, hints of distress mixed in with the sweetness of Changbin’s scent, an ashy smell like the smoke of a campfire. Felix took a deep breath to stabilize himself before he opened the door. And then he stepped inside.  

Changbin was on the bed, surrounded by a pile of blankets and clothes, ranging from his own shirts to Chan’s, to even Minho’s–his nest. Another thing Felix quickly noticed was that he was completely naked and he was whining, the high keen immediately filling his ears as he stepped closer. He did his best to turn his own citrusy scent calming–anything to remove the distress from Changbin’s scent. 

“Binnie,” Felix called softly. He stood at the edge of the nest, not wanting to get in until Changbin gave him express permission. It was taking a great amount of self control not to pounce Changbin right then and there. He looked so pretty all spread out in his nest. He’d gotten a little chubby lately as they prepared for this heat and that only made him more enticing. He looked so soft and supple. Perfect for Felix to sink his teeth into–

“ Alpha ,” Changbin whined, bringing Felix out of his own desire-fueled thoughts. He turned over on the bed and faced Felix and oh he looked so pretty, his cheeks red like ripened fruit and his eyes cloudy and dazed with heat. 

“I’m here,” Felix said softly. “Can I come in?” 

“Please,” Changbin sniffed, voice a little pained, and that was all Felix needed to join him in his nest and pull him into his arms. His skin was burning up, already feverish from his heat, and he was shaking. It made his inner alpha whine pathetically, screaming at him to comfort, comfort, comfort . He nosed at Changbin’s scent gland and inhaled deeply as he began to scent him, releasing calming pheromones as much as he could. Changbin whimpered softly as citrus mixed with sugar and bloomed throughout the room. Felix always loved how their scents combined. Perfect, sweet, delicious, like a bakery during the summer time, full of rich, ripe fruit mixed into sugary baked goods and pastries that melt on your tongue. 

“I’ve got you,” Felix mumbled against Changbin’s heated skin. The omega began to relax in his arms and he stopped shaking as much. He was still just as hot but the distress had melted out of his scent and Felix was instead hit with the full force of his sweetness. His gums burned as arousal mixed into the air and coated his lungs like sap. Fuck . Changbin’s slick. 

Changbin squirmed and whined as his arms came to wrap around Felix. Despite his softness, he was still so strong, stronger than Felix even. People often mistook Changbin as an alpha but Felix knew how wrong that assumption was. He was strong and powerful, but he was strong as an omega. 

“Felix, I want–” Changbin started, struggling to find words through the fog in his brain. “It–it hurts. Please. Need you,” he whimpered. Felix inhaled slowly as arousal swirled in his stomach. He was already hard, and was practically the moment he stepped in the door. 

“My omega,” Felix drawled, sitting back so he could cup Changbin’s cheeks. “I’m gonna take care of you. Don’t worry.” 

“Mate? You’ll claim me, right?” he asked simply and Felix’s heartbeat stuttered in his chest. Right. That was what Chan was talking about. It’s time . Time for him and Changbin to mate. 

They had been planning this for a while. The group was at a stable point in their career and as a pack. Minho and Jisung were already mated and Hyunjin and Seungmin were planning on it soon but somehow had more patience. Felix and Changbin couldn’t wait, but Chan still had to get permission from the company. It wasn’t unheard of for an omega to get pregnant the moment they were mated and that would create a lot of issues with the group without proper planning. Minho and Jisung had been lucky. Felix didn’t want to be lucky. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna make you mine,” Felix all but growled. His gums stung more but he ignored it. He wanted to draw this out. 

Changbin rolled over and Felix let him, even though he wanted to keep his arms around him forever. Then Changbin arched his back and spread his knees apart so that his ass was in the air, his dripping hole on perfect display for Felix. He was full-on presenting. Saliva flooded Felix’s mouth as he took in the sight–his inner thighs and ass shiny with slick, his pink hole fluttering, desperate for a knot, his curves and the roundness of his tummy, begging for Felix to breed him and fill him up with pups–he wanted to devour him. 

“Fuck, Changbin, you’re so pretty,” Felix breathed, moving behind him. 

He placed his hands on Changbin’s ass cheeks and dug his fingers into the soft flesh. Even though his hands were small, he was strong, and Changbin’s skin would probably bruise later. “P-please, alpha. Touch me,” Changbin whimpered, arching his back further. Felix licked his lips as he spread Changbin’s cheeks apart, heat spreading through his stomach as a glob of slick dripped out of his hole. The sweet maple and vanilla was so strong it was making Felix a little lightheaded. His mouth watered. 

Changbin began to whine again but then Felix leaned forward and without a warning, licked all the way up his perineum to his hole. He collected his slick on his tongue and swallowed it down with a groan. It tasted just like it smelled. “You’re so delicious,” Felix groaned. Changbin gasped when he pushed the tip of his tongue past his hole and began to lick at his velvety walls. His legs were already shaking as Felix started thrusting his tongue in and out of him, eating him out like a man starved. 

The sounds of pleasure Changbin was making went straight to Felix’s cock and he knew it wouldn’t take long for his knot to form. But he held himself back. He needed to be there for all of Changbin’s heat. 

“I-I’m– ahhh —alpha,” Changbin moaned, hole clenching around Felix’s tongue. Felix continued licking into him and added two fingers into the mix, the digits sliding in easily with how wet Changbin was. He mewled as Felix spread him out with his fingers, sweet, whiny sounds falling from his lips. 

“Hhh– hnngg –I’m gonna come,” he gasped, a shudder wracking his body as Felix curled his fingers. He hummed against Changbin’s hole in response. Getting Changbin to come had become a need of his own. He needed it more than anything. His alpha was ecstatic that he was pleasuring his omega. 

Changbin cried out as Felix pulled his first orgasm out of him. His little cock spurted cum all over the sheets and more slick spilled from his hole and coated his thighs and Felix’s chin. Felix swallowed what he could and licked the rest from his lips. “Fuck,” he muttered, straightening himself up. “You taste so good, Binnie. Can’t believe you’re all mine. All mine.” 

Changbin’s skin was flushed all over. The pink stain fit well with his moans as Felix started fingering him again once he had calmed down from his first orgasm. The first of many. Instead of adding his tongue this time he added a third finger and pushed them deeper. Changbin writhed on the bed and his thighs and arms quivered as he struggled to hold himself up. Even for all his strength there was only so much he could take. 

“Mmm!–oh gosh, f-fuck,” Changbin gasped suddenly, his hips jerking. Felix grinned. He felt a slight change in texture under his fingertips–Changbin’s prostate. He hadn’t even needed to touch it to make Changbin come the first time, but his omega had always been so sensitive. “ Please –I can’t, I can’t,” he whimpered. 

Felix squeezed his plush thigh and pumped his fingers in and out of him. His hand was coated in slick already from how much Changbin was dripping. His scent permeated the air and rested over them like a thick blanket. It was so hot and Felix wanted to burn in it. “You can,” he reassured him. He caressed his thigh as he rubbed his fingers over his prostate. “You can come for me again. I know you can. You’ll be a good omega for me, right, hyung?” 

Changbin choked on a moan and nodded. His face was pressed against the bed and his cheeks were splotchy with pink. “Yes, yes,” he responded with vigorous nods. “I can, please, F-Felix, alpha.” 

Felix bit his teeth and dug his fingertips into Changbin’s thigh. He could taste the copper on his tongue from his fangs digging into his lip and his gums burned with the urge to bite. He spread his fingers and arousal exploded in his belly at the way the entirety of Changbin’s soft body quivered. His noises got progressively more high pitched as Felix fucked him with his fingers and his touches turned rougher. It was music to Felix’s ears. 

“I’m–hah–clo-close, aaahhh. Felix, Felix, please.”

“You’re taking my fingers so well,” Felix complimented. It was taking everything in him to not lose his resolve. “So perfect, so good for me, Changbinnie. Such a good boy,” he whispered, his low voice a sharp contrast with Changbin’s desperate mewls. 

It didn’t take long for Changbin to reach his second orgasm, this one hitting him harder than the first when Felix gave a particularly hard thrust of his fingers. He made a choked sound that almost sounded like a sob and he collapsed forward as he came, more cum dripping from his cock. His hole spasmed around Felix’s fingers and let out little whines as he thrusted them in deep, until Changbin was gasping for him to stop. 

“You’re so pretty,” Felix praised, his voice soft. He helped Changbin roll over onto his back so that he could see his face properly and the sight of his debauched expression nearly pulled a growl from his chest. His eyelashes were wet with unshed tears and his lips were red and swollen, slick from the brush of his tongue. He bit his lip, his fangs glinting in the midday light. Changbin’s breath hitched and he tilted his head to the side, barring his neck. 

“Alpha,” he moaned. He spread his legs. His cock was still hard against his soft tummy. Felix wanted to bite him everywhere. His skin was perfect, unblemished–a perfect canvas for Felix to decorate. 

He started with his thighs. He was still so hot that his skin warmed Felix’s mouth as he laved over the first bite mark with his tongue. His thighs were sticky with slick and sweat and he tasted divine.

Shivers shook Changbin’s thighs and goosebumps rose all over his skin as Felix made his way up his body, sucking on all his softest parts–biting the swell of his tummy, the soft flesh of breasts. The closer he got to Changbin’s neck the more he wanted to sink his teeth into him, mark him, claim him as his mate. There were already bite marks littering Changbin’s skin and hickeys blooming in red and purple hues. But Felix wanted to save the real marking for when he knotted him. 

When he reached Changbin’s face, the omega wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a kiss. There was no finesse behind it and it was more tongue and teeth than anything, but it was Changbin . His mouth tasted so sweet and his little gasps and mewls against his mouth sent arousal licking up his spine. “Wan’ you to fuck me,” Changbin whimpered once they separated. His pupils were blown and there was a haze over them. He was deep into his heat and Felix could sense his need and it clawed at his insides. “I need it, please. I’m so wet I–please, n-need your knot,” he begged. 

Felix swallowed thickly and licked his lips. Fuck, Changbin was all his . 

“I’ve got you, baby. Do you want it like this?” he asked, running his hand down Changbin’s torso. He couldn’t resist squeezing a small handful of the chub settled around his middle. 

More vanilla-soaked arousal flooded the air at Felix’s touch and if it was even possible, Changbin’s cheeks turned even redder. “L-like this please,” he replied. 

Suddenly, his face twisted and he whimpered as a wave of cramps hit him. The sugar in his scent turned smokey again and Felix frowned as his alpha picked up on his omega’s distress. “H-hurts, alpha, m-make me–make me f-feel good,” Changbin cried, his body arching underneath Felix. 

Felix knew he couldn’t waste time so he planted another kiss on Changbin’s full lips and then slipped down between his spread thighs. The sheets below his ass were soaked with slick and his hole was clenching around nothing. “Every part of you–fuck. Shit. The prettiest fucking thing ever, ” he groaned. He scrambled out of his clothes, tossing them somewhere in the pile that made up Changbin’s nest so he could have them for his heat. He had to remind himself that this heat would still last another day and he would have plenty of time to take Changbin apart piece by piece. But for now, he needed his alpha’s knot. And Felix needed to feel him around him. He was so hard it hurt, so hard he had trouble thinking. 

It was his instincts taking over as he pressed the tip of his leaking cock to Changbin’s hole, the head easily slipping past his rim with no resistance. He didn’t worry about protection. He wanted to see Changbin’s belly swollen with his pups. Their pups. 

Changbin moaned wantonly as Felix pushed his legs back and his cock filled him up. He clenched around him and Felix gritted his teeth, a deep moan vibrating in his throat. “Fuck, you feel so good around me. It’s like you were made for me, hyung,” he said reverently. Changbin only moaned in response, already too far gone to form any proper thoughts. Felix was going to fuck him senseless . 

He pushed his cock in until his hips were pressed against Changbin’s ass. He was still so tight even though he’d fingered him already. The wet heat surrounding his cock made him dizzy with pleasure so he gave himself a second to adjust, hands pressed firmly against Changbin’s thighs. But Changbin was squirmy, clearly needing more as he pushed his hips forward, whining for Felix to do something please . And fuck, Felix was so weak for him. 

He pushed Changbin’s legs back toward his chest and pulled out, the action producing a loud squelch from the amount of slick coating his walls. Changbin immediately whined from the loss, desperate pleas already falling from his mouth, but Felix was quick to ease him, filling him up again with one quick snap of his hips. 

“ Ahh! ” Changbin mewled, tossing his head back into the soft piles of his nest. Felix growled, a low, soft rumble in his chest and Changbin tilted his head to the side to present himself in response. “Alpha, alpha–” 

“So good,” Felix gritted. “Fuck, you feel so good. My baby, my omega you’re so–shit.” His head felt like cotton. The mix of their scents in the air, the heat of Changbin’s feverish body, the feeling of skin on skin, the loud moans each of his thrusts punched from Changbin–it caused pleasure to burst through his stomach and tingle up and down his spine like electricity. 

“Fu-uckk,” Changbin hiccupped, followed by a long whine. “H-harder, please, bread me– hhngg– alpha, alpha,” he chanted. His eyes rolled back as Felix thrusted his cock deeper, hitting his prostate dead on. His little cock bobbed against his tummy with each jab of Felix’s hips and the precum smeared across his smooth skin. He was such a pretty sight. Mine, all mine, Felix thought. 

Heat pooled in his stomach as Changbin clenched around him and cried out, his pretty mouth parted as he moaned. “ Aaahh –Fe-Felix–gonna–nghh–knot me p-please, want your pups,” he begged. Felix groaned and Changbin’s eyes rolled back as he picked up his pace and fucked him harder, digging his fingertips into Changbin’s supple thighs so hard that there would be bruises and nail marks left later. 

“You’re gonna–fuck–gonna look so, s-so pretty like that, Binnie,” Felix moaned. Pleasure tugged at his insides and he could already feel his knot beginning to form, the slight bulb catching on Changbin’s rim whenever he pulled out. Changbin was getting close too, judging by the way his eyes rolled back and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. The pink matched the marks Felix left all over his body and the flush of his round cheeks. 

Felix’s knot filled up more and Changbin let out a cry as he pushed it back in. He was already stretched so much and the knot filled him up more than the entirety of Felix’s cock. “‘S too much,” he gasped, making little fists in the sheets. “I-I can’t take it–you’re splitting me in half. ”

A shiver ran over Felix’s body. “Shh, yes you can,” he said soothingly. He tossed Changbin’s legs over his shoulders and leaned between his thighs to reach for his hand. He brought his wrist up to his face and nuzzled against it, scenting him with fresh citrus. Changbin’s eyes glazed over and he let out a breathy moan. His body went entirely pliant in Felix’s hold and the alpha smiled brightly. “That’s a good omega. You gonna come for me? Then you can get my knot,” he said. 

His vigorous nods were followed by another thrust of Felix’s hips, this one more gentle than the others, but still enough to make Changbin keen. “Y-yes,” he stuttered. “Want it. ‘M gonna come, please, please mark me. Please. ” 

Felix’s gums hurt, his jaw ached. “Fuck,” he breathed. “ Fuck.” 

He pulled out one more time and that snapped his hips forward, pushing his fully formed knot past Changbin’s puffy rim. That was what the omega needed to come and he sobbed, his eyes rolling back as his hole spasmed around Felix’s knot. His cock spurted weakly, already spent from his first two orgasms. He looked so beautiful with his mouth hanging open, moans flowing freely past his red lips. Felix growled again and clenched his jaw. “My omega. Mine.” 

“Yours, yours,” Changbin replied “Fill me up, alpha, breed me.” 

Felix groaned and dropped his head as his orgasm hit him, his hips jerking as his cum spilled inside Changbin. The scent of his own arousal almost overcame Changbin’s as he pressed deeper, pushing Changbin back until his hips lifted off the bed. 

The urge to bite him, mate him, claim him, suddenly overwhelmed Felix and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He went between Changbin’s legs and as he filled him up and moved one of his hands beside Changbin’s head to cage him in. Then he dipped his head and attached his mouth to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, right over his scent gland. 

Changbin’s breath hitched and his body stilled. “Alpha,” he muttered. “Felix.” 

Felix hummed against his skin and licked over his scent gland. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. He felt like his veins were electrified. This was it. He and Changbin would finally be one. 

He scraped his teeth over his skin, testing the waters, and then bit down, hard . Changbin gasped and his body jerked as his fangs sank into his flesh. Blood flooded Felix’s mouth and ran down his chin and Changbin’s shoulder and there was no way it didn’t hurt even though he didn’t make a sound. He could smell the smoke in his scent again from the pain but he knew it would all be gone in a moment. 

He stayed just like that for a moment, waiting for their bond to set it and slowly Changbin settled. Then, he felt like he was blooming, an overwhelming feeling of love , joy, peace, running down his body like the blood running down his chin. He could feel Changbin more intensely than he’d ever felt him. The room smelled like orange blossoms and syrup and them . Tears sprung to his eyes and ran down his cheeks. His chest felt so full. 

Changbin whimpered above him and wrapped his arms around him. The touch of his skin lit Felix on fire. Oh, had they been missing out. “Do you feel that?” Changbin asked, his voice choked up. 

Felix hummed and his lips curled into a smile even as tears streamed down his cheeks. He finally pulled off Changbin and licked over the wound to clean up the blood and wiped his lips and chin. “I do,” he said softly, nodding. “It feels amazing.” 

“It does,” Changbin said back, biting his plush bottom lip. “I can feel everything.” 

“Yeah?” Felix asked, letting out a watery laugh. 

“Yeah.” Changbin smiled warmly and pulled Felix down to kiss him. They took their time with this kiss, lips moving in tandem, no urgency behind it. Changbin’s fever had broken and he would have a little respite before his heat kicked up again and they would have to leave all the niceties behind. But for now, Felix could be sweet and gentle. He could let Changbin lick into his mouth and press kisses to his jaw without any rush. 

“You’re officially my alpha,” Changbin said happily, giggling a little as Felix continued his incessant kisses. 

“I’ve always been your alpha,” he said, kissing the corner of his lips, then his chin, then his cheek. 

“But now everyone will know. I’m really yours. And you’re mine. My pretty alpha.” 

Felix blushed and he dropped his head to hide against Changbin’s shoulder. “You can’t get shy now! Your knot’s still inside me, Lix.” He clenched around him as if to prove his point and Felix groaned, clenching his fists. 

“Don’t do that! This knot needs to go down before I can go again,” he said. 

Changbin laughed and the action shook his chest. “Do you…do you really think I’ll have pups now?” he asked softly after a moment. 

Felix lifted his head and smiled. “I’m sure. You’re perfect. We’ll have our little babies.” They would know for sure in about two weeks. Changbin’s scent would change. It would turn softer, gentler, promising. And even if this knot didn’t take, they still had almost two whole days left.

“Good,” Changbin hummed. He ran his fingers down Felix’s spine and the alpha practically purred. “You’ll be the best daddy.” 

Felix could have cried right then and there. And he did. More tears streamed down his face and he groaned as he hid himself against Changbin again. “You’re supposed to be the emotional one now!” he groaned and Changbin just laughed at his expense again. 

“My cute alpha. With the biggest heart. It’s hot. Makes me wanna ride you.” 

Felix gasped, scandalized. “I liked you a lot better two minutes ago. Go to sleep. You need to rest before your next wave hits anyway. 

Changbin giggled and ruffled Felix’s messy hair. “Yes, alpha. Your wish is my command.”  

Felix nipped at his chest and he would have wrestled him if they weren’t still knotted together and he wasn’t tired. Eventually Changbin’s laughter died down and they were able to fall asleep, a blanket of their own bonded scents warming them into dreamless slumber.

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