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stuffeddeer · 4 months

Note

imagine mistaking beastzai as your usual dazai (you thought he wanted to be emo for a day) and like did usual silly cute things with him then dazai came home and he’s like HUH WHO IS THIS GUY R U CHEATING ON ME :(( but in the end you have… double boyfriends but one’s moody and one’s fucking annoying

anons that think alike omg telepathy … use ur powers for good!!! two asks in one btw i feel so productive

alsooo beast!dazai would be giddy like a child to be in the main tl w his love… he’d be twirling you around and enjoying what could’ve been before he has to go back!!! all dazais are cringy and in love w u it's true they told me themselves !!!!

“What’s with the outfit?” You spoke bluntly, clearly a little put off by the reappearance of the black coat and red scarf. “Dude, you look like Mori.” Harsh, sure, but your boyfriend worked so hard to walk alongside you in the light, so the last thing you wanted was to see what would’ve been, if not for —

Dazai smiled, seemingly amused. “Ah, love, it’s merely a costume. Thought you’d get a kick out of it,” he replies easily, pulling off the long red scarf: a staple of the Port Mafia’s boss.

His words help to relax you, letting out a small sigh as you push the coat off of his shoulders. “Let me grab you your coat, I know it’s around here somewhere…” You flittered about your shared apartment, pulling a backup brown coat from its spot buried underneath your closet. “This better suits you,” you speak under your breath as Dazai pulls it on. The fit seems a little… different. Is it somehow looser than normal? You frown.

“Thank you, love,” he repeated the same pet name. It felt as though he missed saying it, which doesn’t quite make sense.

You choose not to dwell on it — maybe seeing him in black again just rewired your brain for a moment. He’s alive and well in front of you and nothing else matters. A nod is all the reply Dazai gets before you slip on your shoes.

“I thought you might have headed to work early when I didn’t see you in bed this morning, but I guess that’s my fault for assuming the impossible,” you decide to tease.

Dazai easily slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin against your shoulder. “Mm… I love you, you know that? Let’s skip work today. We can spend time together, ‘kay?”

He’d always been unpredictable and spontaneous, so you merely laughed in response. “I don’t have work today, remember? But you still do.”

Shaking his head, he pouts — there’s the Dazai you love. “Nope!~ I refuse to go into work today. I’m spending my whole day with my love!” He practically jumps for joy, hands moving to gently hold your waist. “Let’s bake cookies.”

There isn’t much you can do, watching with an amused grin as Dazai unties your shoes before dragging you to the kitchen.

“It does not take two hours to make cookie dough…” you sigh, trying to jostle the white flour from your hair. “We baked cookies together, like, two weeks ago! How could we already have forgotten everything…”

Dazai grins, planting kiss after kiss on your cheeks, melted butter staining your skin from when he accidentally tried to drink from the cup you’d used to soften it. “Hard to remember much when I’m with you.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You chuckled, grabbing a towel from the counter to wipe both your face and his lips.

“Yep!~ It’s like.. my love is so pretty I can’t think when I’m around them! Oh, I could just die in… No! I don’t even want to die! I could live in your arms, grow old together and watch you get all frail and saggy,” Dazai speaks dreamily, swooning over the idea of growing old with you. How sweet.

You push him away gently and begin balling up the chocolate chip cookie dough, pressing it onto the silver pan you made Dazai buy when you first started staying over. “Saggy? No, I’ll be young and beautiful forever,” you joke, but Dazai only nods in response.

“It’s true! No one holds a candle to my love. Why, I wish I could spend every day just staring at you.” Dazai’s voice always sounded teasing when he was with you, but even as you put the last of the cookie dough onto the tray (only had enough to fill one, since Dazai kept spilling, throwing or eating the ingredients..) you could feel the genuineness in his words.

Oven preheated, you slid the sheet in to bake (making sure to start the timer) before turning to Dazai. Before you could get a word in, the front door to your shared apartment creaked open. Heart dropping to your stomach, you grabbed the closest thing to you: a whisk your boyfriend had licked clean. Said boyfriend only seemed to sigh, falling into a more somber mood, head hanging before he sent you a sad smile.

“I think the jig is up, love…”

Your name is called from the front door, the voice… suspiciously familiar. “Are you in there? You weren’t answering your phone and I got worried...” Dazai stepped into your apartment, hanging his keys by the door before turning around (an addition you made, since he tended to forget his and jumpscare you by picking the lock every few days).

The three of you stood still, no words spoken and the only sound being that of your metal whisk dropping to the floor. Spinning from one Dazai to the next, you wiped a splotch of flour from your shirt collar. You felt guilty for some reason, like you were at fault for not recognizing an imposter Dazai, and wanted to make yourself look more presentable.

“Awww, love!” The Dazai at the door pouts, throwing his coat on the floor as he quickly heads over to you. “Are you cheating on me?” He continues, slouching over you to impose as much of his weight as he can. You struggle for a moment, his bone crushing hug enveloping more than you expected.

Guilt still apparent as your tummy twisted, you shook your head. “I didn’t— “

The other Dazai, the one wearing a black tie and covered in various cookie ingredients pouted as well. “Maybe she’s cheating on me! I mean, I can’t believe my love moved in with another man…”

God, this was too confusing. You gently pushed Dazai A off of you, stepping back from the two. “I don’t— “

“I can’t believe this… I head to work early one time and now you’re making cookies for someone else!” Dazai A whined, face smooshed against the oven door’s glass in longing. “I’ll never be on time again! In fact, I think I’ll always have to be late.”

Dazai B pulled Dazai A back towards him by his collar, whispering obnoxiously, “I’ll share the cookies if you share the beautiful partner.”

Dazai A nods in approval, eyes closed and arms crossed like it was the easiest decision to make in the world. “I want half the sheet. And, I want a kiss…” He pouts towards you. Ugh, how annoying.

You deadpan towards the two, no longer feeling guilty. These two were just as much Dazai as they could get. Arms spread, you let Dazai A pull you into a hug so you can give him a proper welcome home kiss. “Both of you are obnoxious. Is that all I’m worth? Half a sheet of cookies?”

“Half a sheet of your cookies,” Dazai B grins. “That’s not something either of us would give up lightly.” The other Dazai nods in agreement.

Both of your stupid, annoying, clingy boyfriends tug on your sleeves, forcing you over to the couch so they can both receive your affections while the cookies bake.

the timer goes off after a while but they both whine about not wanting to let u get up. once you threaten letting the cookies burn they're quick to let go. i hate them both.

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 2 years

Text

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where Changbin gets a little too "big dumb alpha." And Minho puts him in his place.

Or the tenth installment of the SKZ!Pack Prequel Series.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, SKZ!Pack, SKZ!abo, Poly!skz, ot8, skz x you, skz x reader, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, pack!prequel, SKZ!pack prequel series, a/b/o, omvegaverse, alpha beta omega, bang chan, lee minho, hwang hyunjin, seo changbin, lee felix, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios

Genre: Fluff, Light Smut

Title: Imitation as a form of Flattery, Exhibition as a form of Punishment

After the pack gets back from the cabin, Changbin doesn’t leave your side.

(“Oh my god, (Y/N). Are you okay? I’m so sorry, baby girl. I’m never leaving you again-”

“I’m fine. Really.” You note the darkening hickies bruising the other alpha’s neck with a smirk as you take a sip of your water bottle. “You, however, look a little worse for wear. Have fun?”

Jisung passes you on his way to the bedroom, bag slung over his shoulder, and offhandedly remarks, “Minho-hyung likes to bite.”

You promptly choke on your mouthful of water.

“What?”

Changbin goes beet red.

Minho appears then, his own suitcase in his hands, and pats Changbin’s ruddy cheek a little too roughly to be considered affectionate with his open palm, full lips curving upward into an entirely too smug smirk.

“I can’t help it if MuscleHead here likes to bottom. Isn’t that right, princess?”

You cough so hard that Hyunjin looks concerned that you’ll die, patting your back from a safe distance away.)

And so, when the other alpha insists he’s going along with you to your study group at the library that weekend, you sigh, setting your bookbag down with a heavy thump, silently apologizing to your offended laptop, as you shoot him an exasperated, tired, desperate look.

“Bin, I swear, I’ll be fine-”

“I’m going.” He crosses his arms over his chest and stares you down, and the smell of smoke heightens.

You sigh again and rake a hand through your hair.

You expected it, sure, but you’d thought you could talk him out of it.

Maybe.

“You’re going to be so bored, dude. We’re just gonna be talking about cell mitosis for hours on end and there won’t even be any snacks because we’re all too poor to even afford coffee-”

“(Y/N).” Changbin says your name dangerously, alpha timber creeping into his tone, and your wolf flattens its ears, even as you stand strong. His eyes flash warningly, golden. “I’m going.”

You huff an angry breath and sling your backpack onto your shoulder, grabbing your keys as you yank open the door, a little bit harder than necessary, just to make a point.

You could chalk his sudden possessiveness and protectiveness up to your recent unexpected rut without him, your still lingering hormones, and a little bit of shit biology, accept it, and adjust until it passed, but where was the fun in that?

You needed to make him miserable. Just a little bit.

“Fine. Come on. We’re gonna be late.”

*******

When you walk into the library, Changbin in tow, you haven’t said a word the entire bus ride over.

Silent treatment may be immature, but hey, it gets the point across right?

Unluckily for you, Changbin was right at home in comfortable-and uncomfortable-silence.

Damn him.

He strolls behind you without a care in the world, eyes sharp as they scan the quiet that is the library on a long weekend, and idly hums a song you don’t recognize beneath his breath.

You try to ignore the scent of smoke lingering on your clothes.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” A voice calls out, and you glance to your left to see Yeosang waving wildly at you from a corner table, a giant, goofy grin on his pretty features. “Over here!”

Behind you, Changbin ceases humming and a low growl rumbles in the back of his throat.

“Seriously?” You turn to face him, walking backward a few steps, as you hold his gaze with an exasperated, pointed glare. “Yeosang and Seungmin are the furthest thing from dangerous.”

Changbin shrugs, eyes glancing past you to the waiting forms of your friends.

“Can’t be too cautious.”

“Yeah. You can.” You counter back sourly beneath your breath, turning to walk forward again, muttering quieter so the alpha behind you doesn’t hear. “You’re doing it right now.”

“Hey guys.” You pull out a chair at the table, dutifully ignoring Changbin as he sits down heavily beside you without a word, and reach into your backpack for your laptop.

The two men at the table glance over at the stoic alpha curiously, but neither of them asks any questions.

“Oh.” You roll your eyes, pulling out your notebook and pen, waving the writing utensil at your boyfriend. “Guys, this is Changbin.” A wave of the pen in their direction now. “Changbin, this is Yeosang and Seungmin.”

“Pleasure.” Changbin says flatly, without ever taking his gaze from you.

“Right.” Seungmin replies blankly, sitting back in his chair, as he stares at Changbin beside you. “The creepy stalker guy.”

Changbin immediately looks over to the beta, offense flashing across his features.

“Okay, first off, I didn’t stalk her-” “Pretty close.” You mutter, biting back a smirk, as you crack open your textbook.

Changbin shoots you a glare, and then turns back to Seungmin, expressionless and silent, regarding him from across the table.

“Secondly, how did you know about that-?”

Seungmin’s lips curl into what could be considered the start of a smile.

“He was here. The night I caught sight of you in the library.” You sigh out, trying to lean over and copy Yeosang’s notes, as the other alpha purposefully places his hand in your way. You sit back in frustration. “You’ll be happy to know, he told me I was batshit crazy by the way.”

“You sounded crazy.” Seungmin shrugs, and the scent of warm, gingered citrus strengthens momentarily with the motion.

“Yeah you did.” Yeosang snorts, and you turn your glare on him.

“You weren’t even here.”

“Yeah, but Minnie told me about it and I thought you’d finally lost your marbles for good.”

“I didn’t stalk her-” Changbin repeats with tired irritation, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, as if he has an oncoming headache.

“Whatever you say, stalker boy.”

“Yeah, sounds like something a stalker would say.”

You bite back a laugh as Changbin stares down Seungmin and Yeosang helplessly from across the table, before he finally glances at you, and you try not to point out the twitching muscle in his jaw.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

You roll your eyes, but heave yourself up from your chair regardless, shooting the two men still seated at the table an annoyed and openly exasperated look as Changbin practically drags you away.

“Okay, okay, release, boy.” You say, only half teasing, as Changbin maneuvers the two of you around several bookshelves and into a corner out of ear shot.

His fingers loosen on your wrist, and you rub at the rapidly reddening skin offhandedly.

“Good boy.”

Judging by the dark look in Changbin’s eyes, he’s in no mood to play along with your games.

You decide to play the innocent route.

“What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Changbin huffs out, hard, through his nose, and reaches up to run an agitated hand through his dark hair.

You try to ignore the way the motion makes his bicep ripple.��

“You told your study buddies that I stalked you?”

“I mean-” You shrug, trying not to cough as the smell of campfire grows stifling. “-you kinda did. But it’s a funny story to tell now, right?”

Changbin doesn’t even crack a smile, and you feel your wolf start to cower a little in the face of the obviously irritated alpha.

“Binnie. C’mon.”

You try the soothing tactic now, reaching out to gently curl your fingers around his forearm, stroking them down across his knuckles in a repetitive motion, pushing out a wave of calming wisteria laced pheromones.

“I was just teasing. And so were they. I promise no one really thinks you’re a stalker.”

The same muscle in Changbin’s jaw ticks once more, and he snaps his teeth in agitation, canines clicking in a way that has you wanting to bare your throat.

You resist the urge. If only barely.

The campfire is turning into a raging bonfire.

You backtrack a little, fingers tightening slightly around his wrist.

“Listen, I know this whole ‘unscheduled rut while you were all away’ thing has put you kind of on edge, so maybe we should just go home and-”

“No.” Changbin says forcefully, cutting you off, and you bite your tongue, as he breathes in, deeply, just once, before he says again, calmer this time, the gold fading slightly from his eyes, “No. It’s fine. You need to study. I can control myself.”

You stare at him, counting the seconds as the smoke slowly begins to fade, and then he forcibly relaxes his jaw, offering you the hint of a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before he encourages softly, “C’mon. Let’s go back.”

His fingers intertwine with yours, and you feel yourself relax for the moment, if only a little.

“They’re really nice, you know. And incredibly smart. I promise once you get to know them, your wolf will have no more qualms whatsoever.”

Changbin looks thoughtful as you slowly make your way back to the table, his eyes scanning the book shelves as you walk.

“He’s cute.”

You stop walking in shock, and Changbin makes it a point not to look at you as you stare at him with open incredulousness.

“What? Who? Yeosang?” You realize you’re vomiting useless information at this point, but the conversation has swerved so quickly that you’re not sure you’ve entirely kept up. “Hate to break it to you, but he already has a pack and they’re all way out of our league-”

“No.” Changbin offers you a raised eyebrow over his shoulder, as he pulls you into walking once more. “Not that one.”

You try hard not to stumble over your own feet.

“Seungmin.”

You choke on your own spit, and try to silence your ensuing coughing fit as a group of freshmen at a nearby table shoot you dirty looks.

“Seungmin?”

Changbin nods, grinning now, and the smell of smoke is no longer itching your nose, instead now coating your thoughts and making them comfortably hazy.

“Yeah. Seungmin.” Changbin repeats, slower this time, as if to help you keep up.

You don’t appreciate the gesture.

He shrugs as your table comes back into view, and the man in question appears, head bent studiously over a book.

“You can’t tell him though. Because if he knows, then how will I stalk him?”

His joke catches you off guard, but he’s grinning widely, eyes bright, even as you smack him square in the chest loudly in retaliation.

“Stalker.”

“Tattletale.”

“I’m gonna feed you to Minho.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

********

Contrary to the lightheartedness that night in the library, and even with the glimpse of the old Changbin just within reach, things do not improve.

And so, by the time you’ve finished your fifth class of the day, and Changbin has walked you to the bus stop and back to the apartment, (Seriously, doesn’t this guy have his own classes to attend?), you can’t take it any more, flopping down with a groan on Minho and Jisung’s couch, even as said alpha heads silently to the bathroom.

At least that’s one place he hasn’t dared to follow you.

Yet.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Jisung glances up from the video game he’s playing at the sound of your long sigh, dark eyes wide, headphones adorably askew atop his mop of messy black hair.

You groan again and throw a hand over your eyes.

“Changbin. He’s driving me crazy.”

“Ah.” Jisung tsks, like he knows exactly what you’re talking about-and he probably does-already turning back to his video game. “Still following you around, huh?”

“Yes.” You whine out, a little too loudly, and Jisung reaches out to pat you sympathetically on the thigh. “It’s like, god, seriously? I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Rut is long over, I took care of it, let it go, man.”

“He can’t.” Jisung replies automatically, and you peek at him from between your fingers, but his gaze is focused on the television, the tip of his tongue between his lips in concentration.

It’s adorable.

“He can’t, because he wasn’t here to take care of it.”

You stew that over in silence for a moment, the sounds of the video game loud over Jisung’s headphones, and then you sigh, annoyed, and cover your face with your hands once more.

“Sometimes you’re incredibly smart, and it’s incredibly annoying, do you know that?”

“I know.” Jisung quips back, and you can hear the grin in his voice even without looking at him. “Hyung tells me that all the time.”

“Tells you what all the time?”

Minho’s voice pulls you back from the brink of self pity, and you manage to dig yourself out of the wallowing long enough to meet his gaze as he sits down on the opposite end of the couch from you, tapping your calf to tell you silently to move your feet.

You do so, and he settles comfortably into the embrace of the worn cushions, tapping you once more to tell you to put your legs back, and you let them drop gratefully, cradled in the warmth of Minho’s lap.

“That I’m a genius.” Jisung replies, pushing buttons violently on the controller like it’s a contest and he’s winning.

“Those words have never once left my lips.” Minho deadpans drily, his long fingers curving around your shins now, hands warm even through the fabric of your pants.

“Minho.” You try, voice creeping into a wheedle now as the other alpha directs his gaze to you. “Changbin’s driving me crazy.”

“She’s gonna kill him.” Jisung offers helpfully from his spot somewhere on the floor.

“I don’t see the problem with that.”

The sound of the bathroom door shutting down the hall has your wolf pricking its ears, even as you groan and bury your face in your hands once more.

Changbin appears then, you know without looking, know because of the heavy step of his sneakers, the sudden intense tang of smoke that fills the room, the way Jisung suddenly stops smashing buttons like his life depends on it.

A growl fills the room.

You tense up, and you feel the way Minho’s fingers curl protectively around your shin, a little tighter, a little more bite as his nails dig into your skin.

“Did you just growl at me?”

The cool, dangerous tone to the other alpha’s voice makes you want to whimper, but you bite your lip and manage to peek out from behind your fingers.

Changbin looks suitably apologetic, scuffing his sneaker in the doorway now, avoiding Minho’s menacing glare, metaphorical ears pinned.

“Sorry, hyung. I don’t know what-”

“This has gone on long enough.” Minho states firmly, abruptly standing from the couch, tossing your legs aside and making you yelp. “Come with me. Both of you.”

When you both do nothing but stare at him, he pointedly sweeps his gaze between the two of you, gold flaring warningly in the depths of his irises.

His voice drops threateningly into the growl of alpha timber.

“Now.”

Jisung whines and you push yourself up from the couch, moving so quickly to obey the commanding alpha’s bidding that you stumble over your own feet.

Changbin doesn’t meet Minho’s fiery gaze as you both trail reluctantly after him to the bedroom.

Once the door has clicked shut and been locked with a final, sort of menacing sound, Minho turns to look at you, expression fierce, lips pulled into a stern line.

“Sit.” He points at Changbin, standing apprehensively beside the bed, and then moves his finger to the desk chair in the corner. “Now.”

Changbin sits.

Minho watches silently, expression unreadable, and then he takes a step in the sitting alpha’s direction, slow and deliberate.

“Listen to me carefully.” His voice is quiet, steady, and all the more terrifying because of it, as he continues to converge on the other alpha, like a predator moving in on cornered prey. “You’re going to sit there-just sit, nothing else-and watch me take what’s yours.”

Nervousness bubbles into the pit of your stomach, but you can’t bring yourself to move, standing silently, frozen, beside the bed, watching the scene before you unfold.

Minho taps a long, commanding finger beneath Changbin’s jaw, and the other alpha reluctantly meets his swirling, golden gaze.

“Now tell me, word for word, what alpha asked you to do.”

Changbin swallows, you see it in the way his Adam's apple bobs violently, and then he parts his lips, his voice wavering as he repeats back roughly, “I’m going to sit. Nothing else.”

“That’s right.” Minho nods approvingly, removing his finger from beneath Changbin’s chin now. “Good boy.”

And then, he turns his predatory gaze on you, and you feel all the breath leave your lungs.

Everything inside of you is molten-hot and lava and boiling-beneath Minho’s half lidded gaze.

The spiciness of amber coats your tongue and the tang of smoke scorches your throat.

“(Y/N). Get on the bed.”

It’s a stern, firm command, but it doesn’t leave you chafing, no, instead, you rush to comply, your wolf tripping over itself in its almost dazed hurry to please alpha.

Traitor.

Minho straddles you, and a smirk crosses his full, pink lips as he stares down at you, something smug coming across his pretty features.

You swallow down the anticipation clawing its way up your throat.

“Already trembling, sweetheart? Are we that excited, hm?”

“It’s cold.” You quip back immediately, brat rearing its ugly head at Minho’s condescending teasing. “I didn’t bring a jacket.”

“Mm.” Minho makes a sort of low, humming sound in the back of his throat, and the gold in his eyes flashes as his fingers find the hem of your shirt. “I hate to break it to you then, sweetheart, but it’s only gonna get worse.”

His fingers tap your hip bone, cool and insistent against your bare skin, and motions almost lazily to the clothes you wear.

“Off.”

You do as you’re told.

“Pretty.” Minho remarks, cocking his head, studying you openly as he lets his gaze slip across your body.

You feel exposed, but in a pleasant sort of way, as if your skin is zapping with electricity, eager for what comes next.

Minho continues his perusal of you, letting his eyes wander, but not actually touching you, not yet.

It takes everything in you to bite your tongue and not let your wolf whimper for his touch.

“She’s pretty, don’t you think?” Minho says again, offhandedly this time, and it takes you a moment to work out that he’s talking to Changbin now, glancing over his shoulder at the other alpha with a searing smirk.

Changbin manages a jerky nod, and his fingers clench around the base of the chair in a fruitless effort of control.

“However, I think-” Minho muses, looking like he’s enjoying this a little too much, leaning into your space now, his fingers ghosting over the outline of your jaw. “-she’d be even prettier if I left a few marks, hm?”

Your stomach clenches pleasantly as he leans closer, eyes swirling, and lets his lips brush across the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

The scent of amber whirls now, clouding and hazing your thoughts into a comfortable numbness.

Changbin whines-he whines-you’ve never heard a sound like that out of him before-low and desperate in the back of his throat-but Minho ignores him doggedly, continuing to let his lips ghost down the column of your throat and across your scent gland.

Your breath hitches, and Minho notices, a pleased look coming into his eyes.

“Jisungie told you I’m fond of biting, yes?” Minho lets his gaze trace down the path his lips have just taken, lingering at the hollow of your throat, as his fingers-cool and confident-come up to trace the divots of your collarbone in an almost thoughtful way, his eyes dark. “You have the perfect skin for marks, sweetheart. I can feel it, like an ache in my teeth.”

“Maybe you should stop talking and do it then.” You challenge, impatient, your muscles trembling beneath his weight, your wolf pacing with irritation now.

Minho chuckles. “Impatient are we?”

You know it’s rhetorical, because the way your body and wolf are reacting to his own is almost embarrassing and definitely all the proof he needs.

Minho leans over and with a flash of movement, pins your wrists above your head.

He comes in close, lips brushing your throat, and the sound of his canines clicking has your heart running a race in your chest.

“Would you like to know another thing I’m fond of, sweetheart?” Minho asks softly, his breath fanning across your skin, warm and moist, his cool fingers finding purchase on your chin, keeping you right where he wants you.

His eyes meet your own, and his lips curve upward into the start of a wicked smirk.

“Taking my time.”

A whimper escapes past your lips before you can stop it as his nose brushes across your aching scent gland, and Changbin is up in a flash, chair squeaking, sneakers heavy on the floor.

Minho immediately turns on the other alpha, eyes flashing with warning, teeth bared, though his expression hasn’t wavered in the slightest from the eerie calm of before.

“Uh uh.” He tuts with a sigh, almost like a disappointed parent, as he points at Changbin and then the abandoned chair. “What did we say? You’re to sit. Nothing else.”

Changbin stands there for a moment, clearly at war with himself, his wolf snapping in the recesses of his eyes, chest heaving, and then he clenches his fingers into fists and takes a step back, reluctantly lowering himself back into the waiting chair.

Minho watches his every move, and when he’s settled again, he finally gives the other alpha a slight, approving nod.

“Good boy.”

Changbin growls-low and menacing-in the back of his throat, and Minho turns back to you with the start of a smirk, but his eyes are moltenous and deadly.

“Now. Your rules, sweetheart, are simple.” Something wicked comes across his gaze, as he leans back into your space and draws one pointed fingertip up the line of your bare sternum, making you shiver. His gaze darkens. “You tell the naughty puppy sitting in the corner every last thing that I do to you-out loud and while they’re happening-are we understood?”

You swallow, the fresh wave of amber making your thoughts foggy, and manage to nod.

“No.” Minho catches your chin between his fingers firmly, holding you in place, and his eyes bore into your own. “Out. Loud.”

You swallow again, and a campfire begins to blaze beneath everything else.

“Yes, alpha. Understood.”

“Good girl.” Minho praises in a low voice, and the words go straight and hot right to your core, and you resist the urge to squirm beneath him. He lets his gaze scan your face, slow and languid, and then he reaches up and parts your lips with the tip of his finger. “Although, it might be hard with my fingers in your mouth.”

He lets his finger slide onto your tongue, pinning it beneath his hold, his skin already slick with your saliva, hot and wet, and then he casually thumbs the points of your canines.

The give of his skin beneath your teeth makes your entire jaw ache.

“Talk to him.” Minho commands in a low tone, and you swallow the pooling saliva in your mouth and try to form coherent thoughts to turn into words as Minho slides his finger back out of your mouth and down the skin of your throat.

When you don’t immediately speak, Minho leans over you, a dangerous smirk dancing across his lips, eyes whirling with heat, and his lips brush across the shell of your ear as he murmurs in something close to a growl, “Let me help you out there, sweetheart. Tell him how wet you already are. I know, because I can smell it on you.”

“I’m-” You manage to get out, but the words die off into a sharp intake of breath as Minho lets his fingers dip between your thighs.

“Say it.”

“I’m-” You try once more, and it's getting hard to focus again, Minho’s fingers and his tongue and his body on top of yours making your thoughts scattered, the strong, spicy scent of amber coating the inside of your brain and your throat with every breath, every swallow, you manage to take. “-wet. Really wet, alpha.”

“Good girl.” Minho purrs, and rewards you with another stroke of his fingers.

The whine that leaves your lips is completely involuntary as Minho continues further, and the harsh exhale, followed by the rumble of a low, guttural growl, that emits from Changbin in the corner in reaction to your sound has your legs feeling more like jelly than they currently are.

Smokiness begins to overtake the spice of bergamot.

“Fuck, Minho.” Changbin lets out another sharp, harsh breath through his nose at the end of the curse, the sound of his ‘k’ staccato, as if he’s trying incredibly hard to control himself, and is nearly close to failing. “You’ve made your point. Knock it off already.”

Minho glances at the other alpha in a bored way, as if only checking that he’s still sitting, and then slides his gaze back to you, pinned beneath him, at his mercy.

Something akin to wicked satisfaction seeps into the darkness of his gaze as he regards you thoughtfully.

“Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?”

“No.” You immediately reply without thinking, a sudden edge of panic to your tone at the thought of Minho stopping. Your wolf is frenzied enough as it is at the brief pause, you can’t even begin to think about him removing his weight-or his fingers-from you now. “God no.”

Minho smirks, smug and triumphant.

“That’s what I thought.”

Minho turns back to glance at Changbin then, his brow furrowed into a glare and his knuckles turning white as he grips the edges of the chair, and his cool expression doesn’t waver an inch in the face of the other currently furious alpha.

“There you go. You’ve just heard it yourself, princess. So be a good boy, and give me a few minutes here, and then I’ll take care of you, hm? Don’t be impatient. You’ll get your turn. I’m many things, but I’m nothing if not always a fair and equal authoritarian.”

Minho grins-sharp teeth and dangerous angles-before he turns back to you, and without another glance in Changbin’s direction, immediately proceeds to devolve you into a panting, sweaty, spent mess beneath his hands.

When he’s thoroughly sure you’ve been taken care of-multiple times-he finally sits back, still straddling your hips, and lets out a long, slow breath, reaching up to run fingers through his barely mussed hair, before he lets his half lidded, molten gaze slide across to Changbin.

The other alpha’s jaw clenches as he grits his teeth, engaging him silently in the stare down for dominance.

Minho tilts his head, as if in slight acquiescence, and lets his gaze slide down the length of Changbin’s body, before he lingers on the current tightness of his jeans, a smirk coming once again across the full bow of his upper lip.

Minho removes his body from your own then, and you whine at the loss, but he merely chuckles, almost fondly, and pats your head while sliding off the bed.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” His dark gaze slides once more back to Changbin, the other alpha still glaring, even though the sudden arousal in the smokiness of his scent gives him away, and you all know it.

Minho’s smirk only grows wider, as he stalks toward the other alpha like a predator finally cornering its prey.

Changbin doesn’t move.

“But fair’s fair. Alpha’s gotta reward someone now for being a good boy, hm?”

Minho takes the other alpha’s chin in his long, cool fingers, and taps the underside of his jaw in an almost lackadaisical, commanding sort of way, as if he already knows Changbin is going to do whatever he asks of him.

It’s incredibly hot.

“Open up, princess.” Minho’s irises swirl fiery gold and his teeth flash into a wicked, pointed grin. “But stay in the chair.”

********

“We’ve been over this. You really don’t have to come.” You sigh out, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, as you search-unsuccessfully-through the bowl beside the door for your keys.

You huff another sound of annoyance, and then gratefulness, as Changbin appears beside you, pulling his cap down low over his eyes, your lost keys dangling from his outstretched fingers.

He grins and cocks his head, watching as you place the keys safely into the zippered pocket of your backpack.

“I know. But I’m gonna come anyway.”

You snort out an unamused chuckle and reach into the closet for your own hat and jacket, shooting him an exasperated look over your shoulder.

“Dude. Those nerds couldn’t hurt a fly if they tried.”

“Oh, I know.” Changbin leans one shoulder against the wall as he watches you pull on your jacket, before readjusting the slope of your backpack on your shoulders. “I’m not coming to protect you. I’m just coming to see Seungmin again.”

“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose and tug open the front door. “Do you guys really always have to flirt right in front of my Foreign Microorganisms and Where to Find Them homework?”

“We’ve been over this.” Changbin chuckles, parroting your words from earlier, locking the door behind the two of you, as he follows closely on your heels down the stairs, sneakers slapping the cement. “When else am I supposed to see him?”

“Dude.” You say in exasperation, as you round the corner to leave the apartment for the bus stop. “Ask him on a date or something. Like a normal person.”

“We’ve also been over this too many times to count” Changbin playfully growls, slapping your ass and making you yelp, as he catches up to you and wraps an arm around your waist. “Don’t call me ‘dude’ when I literally had my tongue down your throat five minutes ago.”

“.....Dude.”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No. You’re right. I’m not.”

************************************************************************

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