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#that’s unrelated it’s just another thing that’s true
quietwingsinthesky · 1 month
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the human au doctors are all ambiguously from Not Great Home Situations but i think twelve specifically was having a terrible time as a foster kid and decided this little gang of weirdos would be his new family
#he’s also faceblind and can’t tell ten and eleven apart if they’re not talking for like. two months.#that’s unrelated it’s just another thing that’s true#they’re the family twelve wants and they’re the family twelve chose. and besides: he brings with him dinosaur facts.#(also this is the point at which nine realizes this is going to keep happening. like okay. ten? that’s one kid he’s taking under his wing.#and fair is fair. as annoying as ten is. as stubborn and rude as he can be. well. mostly that just reminded nine of himself. not a good#thing necessarily. but he needed someone looking after him when he was younger and ten needs him now. okay then.#but then eleven happens and eleven is Not supposed to happen but the other option is to leave him behind living in secret in amy pond’s shed#where he will inevitably be found and sent back somewhere he Does Not Want To Go Or Talk Or Think About. so nine can’t leave him.#ten and eleven might fight like pissy cats but they also huddle together when they fall asleep while nine is watching over them.#so okay then. eleven is coming too.#BUT TWELVE? this is the third time. you can’t have a coincidence three times in a row. and twelve is the one who chases after them. who#chooses them. how is nine supposed to turn him away. plus he’s got a pragmatic streak that is extremely helpful and he fits. you know?#there’s room in their little family for him. and he fits. he belongs. they see him.#so okay then. twelve is coming too.)#human!sibling!doctors au
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opens-up-4-nobody · 3 months
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#ugh. i dont kno what to do. im about to reap what ive sown bc Tomorrow is the start of the 1st real week of class#and i have cell mechanics and biochem tomorrow and i can already tell the class is gonna b a lot#like it would b one thing if we were just reading and discussing papers but there r summary assignments and exams#and like u dont understand what it takes for me a read a paper. it takes so much pain. and this class is centered around eukaryotes#and i study prokaryotes so like its not really that relavent to me but like i didnt kno what else to take#everyone does eukaryotic stuff. general genetics was full. the microbial evolution class conflics with another class#and everyone tells me ill know everything anyway but im not sure thats true. and if it is i think it would still b fun#so idk. i could drop the class and pick up extra hours for research instead. like use the time to read relevant papers#its sorta hard bc i already have a masters so its like where do u put me? not in stats. i kno how to do a lot of things so idk#i think i saw a plant evolution class. if i wasnt intimidated by the teacher and ever took botany maybe i would go for it#but so it goes. idk. im meeting my advisor on Tuesday morning so maybe ill bounch ideas off of him#and like i kno it sounds like im being a bitch over having to take 2 3hr classes but ive got to ta and do research and somehow find time#to work on my existing data. so like i could justify only taking the one 3hr class i think#ugh. i just wish i could read. and i wish i could sleep#maybe the class tomorrow wont b so bad. or maybe it will. idk i just really wanna take the microbio course#my eyes r all swollen from crying. bleh. i was not designed for this. for reading#unrelated
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coquelicoq · 1 year
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FWIW I'm pretty sure the reader insert "Y/N" abbreviation actually predates the slash operator as a common way to write ships (I remember seeing it around in the glory days of the x operator and "____shipping" epithets)
hasn't the concept of "slash fiction" been around since kirk/spock? i was definitely more familiar with the x than the slash when i was a teen, but the slash operator has been around since before i was born. when did you start noticing Y/N reader insert?
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luckyfox3000 · 5 months
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DC X DP PROMT #15
Hello there Loves! New promt!
Ok, so, here's the thing. Dani didn't really mean for her and Danny to end up on the Supers radar. Really, she didnt.
She just wanted to check out if the rumors about another clone were true! And if they really were one of the Supers.
Dani wasn't at fault here, she was just looking, then found another rich douchbag who created a clone.
So, of course she had to investigate! Danny agreed with her and all! (They might not have told jazz)
So, Dani went to Lex Corp, where these rumors began. Then she found Clone machines. And plans to make MORE.
Dani didnt exactly do anything per say. She just. Went into the mainframe and deleted everything?
(She and Danny were in so much trouble)
Then, then, the next part was definitely not her fault, nope. In fact, it was Danny's. Kinda. Sorta. Ish.
Aaaand the building was on fire.
Spontaneously.
Entirely unrelated to her and Danny.
And nothing at all to do with the dynamite she had in her bag.
Nope.
The supers had not been flying after them for the past half hour.
...
(Jazz was going to kill them. Goodbye afterlife.)
Feel free to use it add on!
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art · 1 month
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Creator Spotlight: @chaaistheanswer
Hi everyone! I am Clara, but you can also call me chaa! I am a digital artist based in Auckland, New Zealand, with a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production. After graduating from uni, I moved out to pursue my art career and I’ve been a freelance digital artist ever since. I love concept art, especially character design! Creating characters influenced by my love for fantasy is what I live for. Thank you for stopping by, and I hope you enjoyed my art! And thank you, Tumblr, for this opportunity!
Check out our interview with Clara below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
I specialized in art in high school and have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Media Production from Massey University with an animation pathway. For our thesis film, which I worked on with several of my classmates, I took on the role of producer, art director, and concept artist. Our short film was featured in the Wellington Film Festival Terror-Fi in 2020. After graduating, I went on to become a freelance artist, but my goal is to work for the gaming industry as a character concept artist. Ever since I first picked up a pencil, I knew I wanted to become an artist!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
Art block is quite common among artists, and unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to the affliction. I have several ways of overcoming art block: watching movies, playing games, reading, or going out for a drive with my sister. These are just a few things I love to do to help keep my creative juices flowing!
What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?
I tend to obsessively research about completely unrelated topics while I draw. I find learning new things helps improve my concept designs, especially in creating backgrounds for my characters.
Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?
Video games and anime were my biggest inspirations! Anything with a captivating story that’ll send me to the edge of my seat, and loveable characters. I’m particularly drawn to high and dark fantasy.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
Technology has made a huge impact on us artists over the last few years. I used to draw a lot on paper, but since getting a tablet, I find myself searching for the undo and redo buttons and even trying to zoom constantly while I draw on paper. I used to only draw for myself as well, but after posting my art online, I now have an audience to whom I can share my art. Because of this, I am able to earn a living doing what I love by creating illustrations for clients.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
I am very proud of this recent commission I’ve done for a client! Fortunately, the piece turned out exactly how I wanted it to look, and my client was very happy with the result. I am also in the process of working on a Webtoon, which is going as smoothly as I hoped it would be before its re-release!
What advice would you give to younger you about making art that's personal or truthful to your own experiences?
The best advice I would give my younger self is to never hold back! Try not to think about the negatives of creating and sharing art that you believe in. Embrace vulnerability, and don’t be afraid to dig deep into your own emotions and experiences. Always explore, and don’t limit yourself to your own bubble. And most important of all, stay true to yourself! Stay true to your values and beliefs, and never compromise your own authenticity for the sake of pleasing others. Your art is a reflection of you as a person.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@yuumei-art has been an inspiration to me since my early Deviantart days. I admire how she uses her skills to focus on environmentalism and cyber activism. @nipuni is another inspiration of mine. I found her when I was in the process of recovering from Dragon Age Solavellan hell. I admire how she manages to capture faces well while also sticking to her style. Her paintings are so beautiful and very pleasing to my eyes!
Thanks for stopping by, Clara! If you haven't seen her Meet the Artist piece, be sure to check it out here. For more of Clara's work, follow her Tumblr, @chaaistheanswer!
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restlesswritingss · 3 months
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In which Astarion rejects Tav
or Tav gets hanahaki disease
dedicated to @bubblegumbitchs-world thank you for the request :* let me know if you’d like this written a different way i am here to please you sire!!
Warnings: Body horror, I got a little carried away with the idea of flower blooming in someone’s chest sorry sorry
Disclaimer: IDK much about the true order of events in the game sorry is all over the place!
Astarion had flat out rejected Tav. It had stung. He wasn't delicate with it either. Sneering at the idea of sex with them and then laughing about it. Tav had shrugged it off, hoping he couldn't see the tears starting to leak out as they realized their romantic feelings were not at all reciprocated. It was just a crush, it would pass. But then it didn't. It got so much worse.
Tav had tried to keep their relationship with Astarion platonic, pushing their feelings down. Every time he sat next to them they tried to ignore the way their skin flushed and their heartbeat sped up. He had to know what he was doing.
Astarion was fully aware of what he was doing. He was toying with Tav's blatant crush on him. It was useful to have the group's fearless leader develop a soft spot for him. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought of that before rejecting them with little tact. It hadn't seemed to dull their desires for him, thank the gods. He needed to be better about planning his schemes. He was lucky they still let him drink from them.
But things had gotten strained between them. Tav was behaving strangely and their was something off in their blood. It now tasted slightly, floral. Curious. He missed the sweet taste.
Tav had also been steeling off more for time alone. Astarion saw the pain in their eyes and feared he was taking this teasing a bit too far, he needed to reel them back in. Throw them a bone.
Something was wrong inside of Tav's chest. At first they thought it was just congestion, they'd been travelling in the cold for a while and it wouldn't be out of the question. But then the blood started coming. It hurt, ripped through their throat as they coughed and coughed hoping it would bring some relief.
They were going to go to Shadowheart, finally fed up with the unrelenting pain when a flower petal came out with the blood. Horror and embarrassment filled Tav. They knew what this was. It was a disease whispered about and used to make tragic romance stories more dramatic. Tav had never considered they'd get it.
Did they really love Astarion? It hadn't even been six months since they'd found him after the crash and he'd held a knife to their throat. Sure, they thought of him all the time and felt more alive than they had ever felt when in his presence, but was that love? The proof was staring at them in the blood covered petals they had just vomited up on the forest floor.
This disease also had another factor that didn't surprise Tav but still hurt to have confirmed so . . . viscerally. Unrequited love caused this. Astarion didn't love Tav back. Hells he barely even liked them.
Hunched over and away from camp, Tav took deep breaths to calm their racing heart as they weighed their options. This condition was deadly if left untreated and it could only be treated by the love being requited, out of the question, or surgery. Ok, surgery was doable. They could speak with Volo. He'd offered to remove the mind flayer through surgery, an offer Tav was still pissed none of their companions had allowed them to take, surely he could remove this.
With one last body racking cough, Tav wiped the blood from the mouth and stood up to make way back to the camp before anyone noticed their prolonged absence. Their chest still burned, they could feel the petals forming and pushing against their ribcage. Rubbing at the spot the pain was most prominent, they began to trudge back to camp.
Astarion had been eyeing the spot of forest Tav had disappeared to. He was sitting outside his tent trying to seem casual with a book in his lap but his gaze hadn't left the spot Tav was last visible. Worry began to worm its way into his chest, an uncomfortable feeling. Tav was slowly endearing themselves to him. They respected his rejection and never pushed him, something he had not expected. He hadn't thought his telling them he didn't want to have sex with them that night would quell any further advancement. It was nice that his no had been respected. He hadn't been respected in centuries.
Tav was also just so annoyingly kind and while at first it grated him beyond belief, as that kindness was turned toward him he saw its appeal. This friendship where they never pushed him for a spot in his bedroll was surprisingly nice. It was slowly making him want more, an ironic development.
His train of thought was halted by the smell of Tav's blood hitting him. Tav was bleeding. The thought rang out in his head as Astarion stood and practically sprinted towards them.
Tav was halfway back when Astarion ran up on them. At first their heart fluttered at the idea that he had noticed their absence, but then another coughing fit hit them. A bodily reminder that they didn't mean to him what he meant to them.
Astarion panicked at the blood seeping from Tav's mouth. He bounded to them, grabbing their facing gently as he tried to examine their face. Was it a cut in their mouth or internal bleeding?
"Tav what happened? Where are you hurt?" His voice filled with panic.
Tav meant something to him, a surprising revelation. He felt their pain in his own chest as they met his eyes. A tenderness Astarion had forgotten his was capable of came out as Tav's eyes filled with tears. His thumbs rubbed up and down their cheeks in an effort to catch the tear tracks and soothing noises came from his mouth. Astarion had no control over it, his body's desperation to comfort this person an uncontainable thing. But this wasn't just a person, this was Tav. Tav who was willing to fight for him, respect him, and care for him in ways he didn't even deserve before he was turned into a damned undead thing of the night.
"When did this injury happen dear?" Astarion's voice was a whisper soaked in a saccharine feeling he wouldn't name.
A cough racked through Tav and they ducked away from him. Astarion smelled the blood as it poured from their mouth. Tav doubled over moaning, "Please go back to camp, I don't want you to see me like this."
Astarion scoffed. They'd seen his fucking scars but he couldn't see them sick? How unfair and hypocritical. Tav knew nearly everything about him from how Cazador had tortured him to how he had been forced to use his body for his master's gain. He knew most of Tav's own story, but this mistrust in him and unwillingness to be as open as they had made him stirred familiar feelings of hatred and contempt in him. This was easier. He leaned into it.
"Fine," he spat holding up his hands and taking a step back, "die alone and in the forest for all I care. I just thought you'd allow me to help you after you pulled every deep dark secret out of me. I suppose gathering information of people while keeping your own secrets under lock and key is just how you manipulate us all into following you as our benevolent leader."
Tav looked up at him at that. He knew exactly where to aim his dagger to fatally wound their heart. Tav had never felt assured in their role as the leader of this ragtag group and him confirming their fears about themselves was the worst thing he could say to Tav.
Before they could respond their body was overcome by another bought of coughing. Something came out along with the blood and Astarion forgot his anger. Tav fell to their knees and clawed at their chest.
"Shit!" Astarion yelled as he knelt down next to Tav, once again reaching for them assessing for injury.
"Please tell me what's wrong, I'll take you to Shadowheart. Please Tav," Astarion didn't know what he was pleading for anymore.
Tav looked up at him again, blood pooling from their mouth. They coughed again and spit out a petal. What the fuck? Astarion went to pick it up and examine it but Tav grabbed his wrist. He looked into Tav's eyes and saw such desperation it made him want to vomit. What was wrong with them? He wanted his annoying yet charmingly cheerful companion back.
"Go away please," Tav begged.
"Why? Why won't you let me help you?" Astarion grabbed Tav by the shoulders to hold them up as he seethed.
Tav just shook their head and tried to hold in their cough. Blood began to dribble out of both sides of their mouth, running down their chin. Their eyes rolled back in their head. Tav finally coughed and opened their mouth, petals soaked in their blood sliding out.
Astarion had no idea what was wrong with them and that made him panic harder. Tav's body started to go slack. He easily caught them and lifted them into his arms. He cradled their head into his chest as coughs continued to rack through their body.
Tav wanted to apologize for getting blood and petals all over his shirt but their voice wouldn't come. It was getting harder and harder to breath. Their vision was going black around the edges.
Astarion felt Tav's body getting weaker and weaker. He sprinted back to the camp screaming desperately for Shadowheart. It wasn't his proudest moment, he completely lost his composure. At least it terrified everyone enough to get Tav immediate help.
Shadowheart couldn't treat them, nothing was working. She'd cast some spells that allowed them to sleep and made the coughing die down a bit, but they still looked deathly. No one knew what the petals they were hacking up were. Gale had taken one to his tent for examination. They deduced it must be some sort of fungal infection but no one knew how to fucking fix it. They were all useless and he told them as much.
Astarion was the only one who sat with Tav all night. Holding their hand, wiping the sweat off their forehead, and speaking soothing words whenever they stirred awake. They mumbled his name whenever that happened and it made his chest constrict.
He had vowed long ago to never beg, plead, or pray ever again. It had never done him any good. But tonight he broke that vow, pleading with any god he could with the same desperation he used to pray for release from Cazador. But now he was praying for Tav. Begging for salvation, for them to open their eyes and smile shyly under his gaze. He needed to hear their voice, he needed them be ok.
He needed Tav.
The realization hit him like a truck. He wasn’t supposed to care for them, hells he’d been planning to seduce them and manipulate their feelings for him. This feeling was never part of any of his half-baked plans. But here it was.
As Astarion sat having an internal crisis, the pain in Tav’s chest began to ease. The pressure on their ribcage began to recede. The blooming flowers began to curl inward and disappear.
Tav awoke gasping for air as the passage finally cleared. They clawed at their chest once more, spasming a bit on the bedroll as they searched for the pain that was no longer there.
Astarion was on them in an instant, hovering and assessing what was wrong. He’d shrieked again for Shadowheart fearing this was the end of this person he’d only just realized he held affections for.
But when Tav sat up with ease and laughed, Astarion lunged for them. He meant it to be more malicious, he was still furious with them, but his arms just engulfed them in a hug. Clutching them to his chest, Astarion didn’t even register the tears of relief falling as he was too engrossed in the sound of their breathing and steady heartbeat.
Tab gripped him just as hard as they realized they were completely cured. The disease was gone without a trace. Their lungs felt better than ever. And Astarion loved them. He loved them. What a magical thing that was.
A/N: This took forever bc my niece gave me the gift of illness for Christmas love her though! Let me know what you think, I’ve never read a hanahaki disease fic before this request so I hope I did the iconic trope justice. <3
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pizzaapeteer · 5 months
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FU in my head part 2
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Part 1 here Pairing Mattheo Riddle x fem reader
Summary Unable to forget Mattheo's longing gaze after potions, your mind lingers on the meaning behind it. When he approaches you later that night, you're left unaware of his intentions and how this would play them out.
Warnings Oral (male receiving), female orgasm, semi-public sex, facefucking, swearing, slight degrading, sadistic thoughts, hair pulling, dom/sub dynamics.
Word count 2400
a/n: I was inspired by this lovely fic written by @mrsriddlenott
And big thank you to @finalgirllx for the amazing edit of Mattheo 💜
Darkness lurks near, flames flickering in the wind, their shadows illuminating on the old stone walls. The disappearance of time was visible with the passing of chattering students on their way to dinner. Making your way across the courtyard, your skin pricked with a frantic charge, your frustration growing in need of a release. 
The combination of your brimming timetable and interactions with friends had left you without a moment to yourself. Despite your aching core, you sigh in relief that you hadn't seen Mattheo since potions. You weren't sure your body could handle witnessing the attractive boy again. Just the recollection of Mattheo's amused smirk had your cheeks tinting. 
Troubling thoughts formed within that perhaps you had imagined it all. Worry pulled in your chest, fear that your fantasies were becoming more visual. Overwhelmed, you quicken your pace hoping to retreat to your dorm, but Mattheo's figure emerging halts you. You jump to conceal yourself behind a nearby pillar, impatiently waiting for him to depart. Unable to resist, you peak from behind the pillar, stalking his every move fervidly. Your eyes are drawn to him as he strides confidently down the corridor. Mentally groaning, you bite your lip. How can someone walking be so enticing? Curiously you watch, pulling back hastily as Mattheo's eyes narrow in your direction. 
You hold your breath in anticipation, hoping he hadn't noticed you. The air thickens at the sound of approaching footsteps. Mattheo's tall form surfaces in front of you, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he studies your expression. The scent of cigarettes and mint intoxicates your senses. You stare meekly, frozen in place, your core clenching at his intense gaze. A dark chuckle leaves his lips, his voice low, as if speaking to himself, "Finding you was quite the challenge."  Your heart quickens to an unrelenting pace, a surge of heat swells in your chest. You scrunch your brows, scanning his face for an explanation. Instinctively, you step back into the warmth of the light, his body closing the space between one another. The intimacy of your bodies allowed you to admire the sharpness of his features. Glints of intrigue flash in his mahogany eyes, his lips twitching into a mischievous grin. It left you swallowing as your lips parted, your cheeks heating, head screaming. "Why were you looking for me? Did I leave something in potions?" You ramble, unable to fathom him talking, even acknowledging your presence out of class. He doesn't answer your question, meandering his gaze between your eyes and lips. His tongue glides across his bottom lip, sliding in as he bites it. "You know, Theo's always telling me, it's the quiet ones... who are the dirtiest. Is that true?", glamour soaks his voice. 
Your eyes widen in alarm, jaw dropping, breath caught in your throat. Your neck prickles, a shiver running up it. Your core palpitates at his words, clear embarrassment and arousal paints your face. You'd never been so red before, the scarlet colour apparent to him as he smirks. He crowed at your reaction, watching you struggle to speak. "God, look at you, a flustered little thing." He rests a hand against the stone, flicking your ear with his finger tauntingly. 
Cocking an eyebrow, his eyes intensify, longing for an answer to his previous question. When you couldn't give one, except a small, unexpected whimper. An amused grunt withdrew from his lips, smirking he responds, "So it's true, you're fucking filthy, aren't you?". Mattheo revels in your desperation, his cock twitches as he watches you struggle to conceal your arousal. Feeling flustered as being called out, your eyes fall, avoiding his gaze. A cold hand grips your chin, jerking your head to look up to him. Towering over you, he leans his body down to meet your gaze, his eyes revealing the hunger inwardly. Your mind attempts to regard what was happening. Were you having another daydream?
In a rapid movement, Mattheo's lips embrace yours hungrily. The unforeseen action startles you before your hands instinctively clasp, reaching for him. Raising your hands, your fingers snake through his curls, pulling him closer. You had only kissed one other before, and it couldn't compare to the experience of kissing Mattheo. 
Mattheo's lips captured yours in a ravenous fire of passion, his hand veering down from your chin, shoving through your hair. His hand clamps the back of your neck, a sharp tug pulling your head against the hard brick. The harsh force sends sharp pains up your scalp, your mouth falling open in an ache. Mattheo, unphased by your pain, uses the clearly intended action to delve further. His tongue manoeuvres forth, colliding with yours, capturing your breath. Your head spins, your lips struggling to keep up with his expertise.
Relief consumes you, as oxygen replenishes your lungs, your heart palpitating. The moment is stolen by Mattheo's lips ravaging your neck. His hand still clasps you, his fingers squeezing your neck. His lips soft and warm attack your skin, small nips pinching at your nape. Your skin burns, body reacting as whimpers and moans leave your lips. Your eyes shut tightly as your fantasy is recreated. Unable to think clearly, your mind is blurred with desire and desperation. 
His hands roam downwards, the trace of his fingertips felt through your clothes, your legs convulsing in pleasure. Your skin pricks between his grasp, his hands halting their travels on your hips. A yelp leaves your lips as your hips slamming roughly into his noticeably protruding dick.  A cocky smug highlighted on his face at the marks displayed on your neck.  You used this moment to rest, your eyes never leaving his. Their usual shade of brown revealed a now darkened tint, consuming a predator's stare. He thrives off the power imbalance between him and you. Your obvious craving for him fuelling his ego and his mind races with possibilities of what to do next. "Get down on your knees," he commands. 
You stare at him aghast, "What?!" you hiss flustered but surprised by your own harsh tone. Blood rushes to your cheeks, taken aback by his vulgar demand. 
He quirks a taunting grin, tilting his head as he clicks his tongue "Oh come on sweetheart, I know how desperate you are to please me?" His hands drift to your face, caressing it, making you feel small. His words sent a rush of adrenaline down your core, your mind drifting into a state of glazed bliss at the idea of his cock between your lips. His grins widen as studies you, watching the wheels in your head turning, contemplating. 
Yet, the anxiety of being caught in a compromising position halts you as you scour the empty hallway behind him. A hint of irritation picks at his face at the slow lack of your response. He rolls his eyes before clutching your wrist harshly and pulling you into a near crevice, covering the both of you from any prying eyes. Now hidden, the clear desire of his request shone in your eyes, your cunt throbbing. The clang of his belt draws your eyes down as he undoes it, your heart pounding in your chest. In a swift motion, he tugs his pants down to his feet, following next with his briefs. 
The sight of his protruding cock leaning against his abdominals makes your insides squirm. He wraps a hand around his shaft, releasing a sharp breath as he gives it a quick pump. You bite your lip as you ogle at the size of it; the tip swollen red, glistening with pre-cum.  He places a firm hand on your shoulder, guiding you down in your dazed state. Your knees burn on the cold pavement, the outlines of the cobblestones moulding into your skin. "Come on now, don't be shy, open up slut," he directs with a sadistic smile on his face. He taps the tip of his cock against your mouth, dragging it over your bottom lip. Your jaw drops as he guides the edge of his cock into your awaiting mouth. 
His hand slides through your hair, taking a fistful to tilt your head back slightly. Eagerness reeks off you as you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You were nervous, trying to channel your anxiety into adrenaline. Your mind is still in a state of awe at the reality of what was happening. Only earlier were you daydreaming about this. You wanted to leave a lasting impression; prove to him you were a good girl, ready to be obedient for him. 
You wrap your lips around his cock, the sounds of his grunts flowing directly to your core. Your legs squeeze together, easing your ache only slightly. You allowed your jaw to relax, as you continued to let him fill you up. His cock was the biggest you had ever taken, making you blink back tears. Mattheo groans as your warm mouth devours his cock. He stares down at you, admiring the pretty sight. He would never get enough of seeing desperate girls with their mouths full of him. He loved seeing tears brim at your eyes, smirking as he watched you struggle to take his size. 
His hold on your hair tightens, his hips shifting forward slightly. You get the idea pretty quickly and move, placing your hands on his thighs for stability. "Such a good girl. Aren't you taking me so well? " He praises in a sadistic tone. You moan around his cock; the sound being silenced as he hastens his movements. Resting his free hand flat against the brick behind you, his hips settle into an unceasing rhythm.  
Mattheo's cock thrusts vigorously, scratching the back of your throat, making your core pulsing restlessly as it clenches around nothing. The intensity of his strenuous thrusts, have your eyes fluttering closed. Drool trickles down the side of your mouth as you gag, choking around his dick. "Look at me, I want to see those cock drunk eyes," he mutters, pulling on your locks jerking your head, jolting your eyes open. Gazing up, your eyes meet his lust blown orbs, a satisfied smirk coating his face. 
Maintaining eye contact, your body trembles at the feel of your approaching orgasm. Never having to withstand an orgasm so long before, your body submerges in pleasure, knocking the breath out of you. Your nails dig into Mattheo's thighs, your orgasm courses through you, your legs tremble, pressing together, to repress the movement. Unable to remain quiet, a whimper escapes you, vibrating around Mattheo's cock. 
Worry sets on you as a deep groan falls from his lips, your tremors edging him on. Praying your orgasm went undetected, you sigh contently at the sight of him caught in his own pleasure, for him to notice. "Fuck you like that, don't you? Like your mouth getting used like a little slut," he mutters, his hold on your head tightening. His thrusts become sloppier, his own climax hitting. You watch enticingly as his brows scrunch, flushes of pink, warm his face, small pants leaving his mouth. A stream of incoherent words spills from his lips as he shoots spurts of cum down your throat. Unable to swallow quick enough, the excess spills, leaking, down the sides of your mouth. Swallowing, you revel at the feeling of your jaw loosening as he removes his cock from your mouth. Mattheo regains his breath, readjusting his pants, tucking himself back in. 
He peers down at you, still on your knees. As you catch your breath, he reaches out, swiping his thumb to collect the excess of cum dripping down your chin. He nudges your lips open, insisting for you to lick it off. His eyes watch zealously, as you submit to his request, your lips clasping around his thumb, your tongue swiping, gathering the salty fluid. He withdraws his thumb with a satisfying pop. 
Traces of lust are still clear in his eyes as he trails them over your chest. He studies how your chest rises, your hardened nipples pressing against your school shirt, the evidence of no bra worn. The sign of your immodesty takes him by surprise. How had he not noticed earlier in class?  Your face flushed a crimson red, tear stains left down your face. He had never seen something so beautiful. God, your desperation to please him left his arousal at an all-time high. It was almost unprecedented, seeing you so wrecked by just sucking his dick before, unaware of your own climax. 
As you stand, he notices your weak knees, his eyes narrowing in on your thighs, as a drip of cum runs down. "Did you fucking cum?" He asks, his voice sounding almost reprimanding, had it not been for the curve of his mouth lifting into a taunting smirk. 
Shame washes over you at his confrontation, all traces of your confidence diminishing instantly. "Fuck, I didn't know you were this pathetic," a deep chuckle leaves his throat, his face wearing a sadistic grin. "Well, that's not true. I already knew that."
Your face pulls, frowning at his words. Your mind turns like a clock, ruminating on his words. You scan his face as you connect the dots, your expression changing into shock. "You're a legilimens?!" you splutter out. Your mind ponders endeavouring to recall any knowledge you learnt about legilimens. The art which involved delving into the layers of one's mind to extract their thoughts. Only known to be performed by an extremely powerful wizard or witch. You stare at him awaiting his answer, astonishment resting on your face. 
He leans back against the wall, allowing some space between you two. He lights a cigarette. "Knew you'd figure it out, smart girl." It made sense to you; Mattheo was son to a powerful wizard, one known for infiltrating the minds of his victims. He eyes you intriguingly, waiting eagerly for your reaction.
At his acknowledgement, heat blazes your cheeks, the realisation sinking in. "You read my mind!" anger courses through you. 
His eyes glimmer with amusement at your outburst, a cloud of smoke exhaling from his lips. He shrugs his shoulders, speaking nonchalantly. "Your thoughts were too obscene not to keep infiltrating." Not giving you time to interject, he adds more to the fire. "Plus, you should thank me." 
You cough on your spit "thank you?!"  "You're welcome." He grins at your response.  You give him as threatening of a glare as you can muster. "You're insufferable, you literally still read my mind without permission." You mutter.  Mattheo raises a brow, "Sweetheart, you were the one having erotic thoughts about me in class," he tuts. "I did you a favour."  "Besides," he gives an arrogant laugh, "Thought you wanted to be obedient. Huh?  Maybe it's time to punish you for being so ill-behaved. See how good of a girl you can be." He gives you a mischievous grin, knowing he got the last word in.  
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dirtytomatoedwrites · 9 months
Text
Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 2
Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader
Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.
PART 1 is here if you haven't read it
Warnings:  18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.
Word Count: 8.3k words (Rafe has released the writing beast in me)
Author Note: Hello lovelies! So happy you enjoyed the first part.  Here's the second. I thought it would just be just a second part but the more I wrote the story just kept unfolding and I really want to do it justice. (I think part 1 and 2 together is the longest I've written for any fic character) So in order to really get into the angst and it not be too long its going to have to be 3 perhaps 4 parts (not sure yet) Anyway I'm currently writing part 3 so it won't be too long before posting. One thing - there's only one piece of music with this part and I would suggest playing it and leaving it running while you read the rest of the chapter.
Thank you for reading and sticking with the story and if you enjoyed it please reblog. It helps to spread the love.  Much love and take care. ❤️
Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.
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The soft glow of your phone, quietly vibrating beside you, nudged you out of your peaceful slumber. Still shrouded in a groggy haze, you instinctively turned away from it. Without even a glance, you knew who the messenger was, and the mere thought that he had sent another text caused a weary sigh to escape your lips.
Rafe's persistent attempts to connect since that unforgettable night had been unrelenting. Ignoring his calls was relatively easy (you had silenced his number), but his text messages proved more difficult to dismiss. Simple words like "Hey," "Hi," and "Talk to me" consistently lit up your phone at all hours, serving as a gentle yet persistent plea for your response—a response you couldn't bring yourself to give, yet somehow couldn't bring yourself to block him outright either. Ultimately, you opted for what seemed the only rational strategy, although in hindsight, it may not have been the wisest: complete avoidance.
But, in truth, none of that mattered. Not when your waking thoughts and dreams were dominated by memories of Rafe, endlessly replaying the night you shared. The feeling of being completely overwhelmed that night, your pleading words that it was all too much, that you needed to stop, were still fresh in your mind. How Rafe merely smiled in response and declared it was only the beginning, sealing his promise with a kiss.
And as he kissed you slow and deep, Rafe was true to his word. His middle finger wormed its way back between your legs. He found your sensitive clit already swollen and slippery with your slick and rubbed the nub in gentle circles in sync with his languid kiss. Slow and steady, minutes ticked by as Rafe dragged out your pleasure, watching you patiently, drawing back his finger whenever he felt you were close, his tongue lazily circling yours, as you both breathed as one. Until finally, finally, he allowed you to cum.
Your body exploded for him, blinding white pleasure saturated your senses leaving you crying and shaking while Rafe whispered soothingly against the shell of your ear "That's a good girl. That's a good girl."
Your unforgettable night with Rafe was unparalleled, surpassing all previous experiences, including those with your first and only boyfriend, Jake. Granted, you had not given Jake the same liberties, but even with the awkward kisses and over-the-clothes groping that marked your brief relationship, Jake had never elicited emotions remotely comparable to what Rafe managed in just one evening. What Rafe stirred effortlessly within you was a different beast entirely — something desperate, needy, and vulnerable. The sensation was so powerful that even three weeks later, it remained, smoldering like a steadfast ember, ready to reignite under the right conditions.
This realization filled you with absolute dread. The sudden understanding that it was Rafe- Rafe Cameron that held the power to shape your desires, ignite unknown cravings, and provoke illicit responses from your body that you couldn't control, was utterly terrifying.
You had often heard tales of girls falling for the proverbial 'bad boy,' forsaking their better judgment for some reckless charmer, and had always scoffed at such narratives. The thought of you succumbing to such feelings or desires was, until recently, beyond the realm of your wildest dreams. It seemed, however, that you were not as immune as you had once believed. All it took was the right—or perhaps, in this case, the wrong—person to stir those latent desires to the surface.
The sheets felt like an unwelcome weighted blanket on your body, pressing you down as you twisted and turned, desperately trying for sleep to come. But it remained stubbornly out of reach. Instead, you found yourself overwhelmed by a flood of polarising emotions.
Chief among them was a sharp sting of shame from that night with Rafe—a shame born from the startling responsiveness of your own body to his, and a gnawing guilt that it was Rafe, of all people, who had elicited such a reaction.
Yet, beneath the layers of guilt and shame, another emotion stirred, one you fervently sought to squash: a thrill of excitement at how utterly alive you felt being dominated by him and the confusing, even more, inescapable undeniable truth—you had loved every single intoxicating minute of it.
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In a small town of no more than 7000 souls, you had turned avoiding Rafe into something of an art form. It wasn't difficult, really. Your comfort zones were galaxies away from the crowded, noisy spots that seemed to magnetize him. Bars, clubs, and bonfires weren't your scene anyway.  Your day-to-day orbit included exam prep and college applications, mostly done at the library for a change of scenery, relentless babysitting shifts, and quiet trips to the edges of the out sticks with your cousin to catch crawfish —far from the exclusive circles of Figure 8. 
Life was, if not exactly smooth sailing, at least predictably turbulent. Everything seemed under control, except for one tiny, nagging detail: Rafe. And your near-pathological commitment to avoid him.
On an average day that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rest, you were navigating your way through a series of errands for your dad. The North Carolina sun was blazing overhead casting sharp shadows. As you rounded a corner bathed in this bright, unforgiving light, a figure suddenly materialized. At first, it seemed like a trick of the heat, an illusion stirred up by the sweltering atmosphere. But as your eyes adjusted, recognition dawned. It was Rafe, but he looked... different.
Your gaze drank in the details, lingering over the notable changes—the buzzcut that gave him an even more dangerous edge, the way he stood taller, seeming to tower over the world, the newfound confidence that rolled off him in waves, a palpable energy that dared anyone to challenge him.  But the transformation wasn't just physical. An undercurrent of danger clung to him like a second skin.  He looked like he had seen things. Done bad things.
Reality came rushing back, slamming into you like a tidal wave, you tried to reverse course, turning on your heels to disappear from his line of sight. Yet, your reaction came a second too late. Rafe had spotted you, and maybe if you hadn't just blown most of your cash on groceries, you would've dropped them and run.
Rafe's speed was unrivaled. With just a few long strides, he effortlessly caught up to you. Firmly grasping your arm, he swiftly spun you around to face him, and there, you saw your own reflection in his Ray-Bans. He slid the sunglasses onto his head, revealing his piercing blue eyes. He made no attempt to hide the whirlpool of emotions swirling within them.
"That's not very neighborly of you," he said. His words were clipped and tinged with anger, yet something in his expression softened slightly as he gazed at you. Was it relief? Disappointment? It was difficult to determine, but one thing was clear—his emotions were just as tumultuous as yours.
"I forgot something—"
"Oh, you forgot something?" His grip tightened, decreasing the space between you.
"Yes, from the supermarket—"
"What, the one over there?" he asked, casually gesturing over his shoulder in the opposite direction.
"A different store."
"Right, right. Well, I'll walk you there."
"No! I've changed my mind," you protested, shaking your head. Your feet instinctively shuffled backward as you attempted to free yourself from his grip. His laughter was low and dry, his hold on you tightening.
"I need to go, Rafe. Let me go. I have to get home," you pleaded, desperation edging your voice.
"You heard her, country club. She said 'Let go'." The forceful tug-of-war between you and Rafe abruptly seized as both of you turned to see Barry approaching. You'd never directly interacted with Barry, but tales of his local thuggery and drug dealing were well-known to you. He greeted Rafe with a familiarity that, given Rafe's reputation, was not surprising.
"This doesn't concern you, man. Keep moving," Rafe commanded, his gaze fixed on Barry.
"Well, I did hear her say 'let her go'," Barry remarked, positioning himself beside you.
"Yeah well, she doesn’t know what she wants," Rafe retorted, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he pulled you closer, positioning himself between you and Barry.
"Just let her go, man—"
"Fuck off," Rafe spat.
Unfazed, Barry squinted and leaned in closer. "You realize how this looks, right? Out here in broad daylight?" he warned.
“Keep walking,” Rafe's jaw clenched as he squared off against Barry.
"Do you not realize what you are doing, bro?"
"I said keep walking," Rafe said icily, maintaining eye contact.
An unspoken exchange passed between the two men, concluding with Barry retreating, hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Alright then,” he conceded. “You do you, country club. You do you. But don't come crying to me when this shit backfires. I warned your J.Crew lookin' ass.”
After Barry's departure, Rafe scanned the surroundings before returning his focus to you.
"Where's your car?" His question hung heavily in the air as you looked up at him, fear evident in your eyes.
“Hey, I asked you a question,” Rafe's voice softened, his hand gently shaking your arm. “Where's your car?”
"It's...it's not working,” you whispered.
“You walked here?”
You nodded, swallowing hard.
A smirk crept across his lips. "Well, aren't you in luck? I'll give you a ride."
"No, that's... I can walk. I planned to walk—"
"Don't. Don't do that. Don’t act dumb, alright? It's nearly a hundred degrees out. What- you planning on collapsing on the side of the road?" His tone was surprisingly gentle, even as he grabbed the grocery bag from your hands. "Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill, yeah? Barry's already acting like a fool. We don't need a full circus," he stated, heading towards his truck and leaving you with no choice but to trail after him.
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Rafe held the door open for you, assisting you as you climbed onto the plush leather seat. After handing you the grocery bag, he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. In a subtle move to put some distance between the two of you, you placed the grocery bag in the middle.
Rafe started the truck, rolled up the windows, and activated the air conditioning. The truck pulled out of the parking lot, beginning a mostly silent ride.
Apart from the occasional glances Rafe threw your way, the journey remained relatively quiet. He made no attempt to hide his attention, his thumb rhythmically tapping on the steering wheel. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, and you felt like you were suffocating despite the AC. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.
"You look good..." Rafe stated, punctuating his words with an approving nod. The compliment stirred a flurry of emotions within you, leaving you feeling disoriented. As your heart pounded like a war drum, the silence seemed to morph, becoming dense and strangling.
"Thank you," you muttered trying to fill it. Your gaze firmly on the road ahead.
"How's your dad?" He asked, initiating a light conversation about your dad's well-being. You answered his questions with measured caution, unsure of his intentions. You informed him that your dad was coming home tonight and you intended to cook him a meal since he practically survived on sandwiches during the week in Burnsville. Rafe's thoughtful nods suggested he was listening, but there was an undercurrent of ambiguity that left you uneasy.
"What are you planning on making for him?" he asked with a semblance of innocence.
Your voice wavered as you listed the dishes, each word revealing your growing vulnerability. Anticipating his next move or comment, your heart raced and you braced yourself for what felt like an inevitable confrontation. You kept thinking he'd ask about the unanswered calls, about his ignored messages.
"Wow, you’re a real cook, not just a 'barely-can-boil-water' cook."
“I manage,” you replied.
Rafe hummed in agreement, his thumb still tapping the steering wheel albeit slower; more measured. “You know, Wheeze misses you.”
“I miss her too. How is she?”
“Good. She’s got exams coming up, so she’s been focusing on that. She's also got herself a little girlfriend."
"You seem to approve. Let me guess, Kook?" you asked absentmindedly.
"Nah, Pogue," he corrected, emphasizing the 'P'. "I guess we like what we like, huh?" he said, eyes raking over you.
Silence followed as Rafe steered away from the main road, venturing down an isolated street lined with beech trees. Decaying houses dotted the landscape, separated by wild stretches of tall bluestems and switchgrass.
"You should, you know… come by the house. See her sometime. I know she’d like that."
“Oh- I.. I would but I can't," you stammered, shaking your head "I have college applications to finish. Maybe sometime after."
“Right, right… college... applications... where are you applying?”
"Um… Kildare Community, Piedmont, Sun Valley, Crystal Coast Community--"
"What about Juilliard or Berklee? You applying to any of those?”
His question caught you off guard, and you turned your gaze towards him. Under the sunlight, his handsome profile seemed almost otherworldly.
"I hadn't really given it much thought," you confessed, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
His eyes fixed on yours, curiosity flickering in them. "Why not?"
Your answer was simple, albeit hard to articulate. "I can't afford it," you said with a shrug. Your eyes back on the unfolding road ahead when his gaze became too much.
"Don't they offer scholarships?"
"Yeah, they do. But the competition among applicants would be intense-"
"So? You're talented. Apply." he said matter of factly. "There are folks on the cut dreaming of an escape, with squat to show for it. You? You have options..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Don't squander it. Not here and definitely not at some shitty community college."
Taken aback, you struggled to find a response, and it didn't help that you could feel his eyes on you, evaluating your reaction. The remaining ride passed in silence, and by the time he pulled up outside your house, you were more than relieved.
"Thank you, Rafe," you said, quickly reaching for your grocery bag, but Rafe stopped you.
"So, that's it? Just 'thank you, Rafe?'" he asked, his jaw shifting restlessly from side to side, as though words were on the edge of his tongue, fighting to break free.
"Oh— I'm sorry, I should've offered to cover the gas. I don't have much on me, but I can--" Your words were cut short by Rafe shaking his head.
"I don't want your money."
Fear prickled your skin, "Then what—what do you want?" Swallowing nervously, you awaited his response.
Rafe's gaze flitted to your lips then back to your eyes "A kiss." he said.
Your head jerked back, unsure you'd heard him correctly.
"A kiss?" you echoed, attempting to digest his sudden proposal.
"Yeah, just a kiss," he replied. His voice was so steady, so devoid of emotion, it was as if he was merely commenting on the weather or asking if you had the time.
Your query rang out once more, uncertainty creeping into your voice, "A kiss?"
"Just one. One kiss and we call it even." Rafe's lean-in was deliberate, his index finger lightly grazing your jaw, igniting a trail of warmth along your skin and unsubconsciously you leaned into it.
"A kiss," you whispered back, your eyes locked onto his. Perhaps you didn't want things to escalate into a fight, but maybe, just maybe, a part of you wanted to kiss him. Taking a breath to steel yourself, you leaned in, brushing a swift kiss against his cheek. Almost instinctively, his lips followed, seeking yours.
"That's, that's not a kiss," Rafe breathed, his eyes growing progressively darker with each word he spoke.
Gently, Rafe curled his fingers around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. His attention was solely focused on your lips. As if under a spell, you relented, delivering a brief, innocent kiss onto his lips. But just as you began to pull away, Rafe halted you, his fingers remaining intertwined at the nape of your neck.
"Nah, that doesn't count."
"I kissed you, Rafe—" you began, your voice trembling.
"No, no. You owe me a real kiss for all the unanswered texts and the missed calls..." His words triggered a surge of panic within you and you tried to pull away, but Rafe held you firm, his gaze burning into your own. "I was worried about you. Did you know that?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.
"We had fun. I made you feel good and then you just...." He paused, collecting his thoughts, his eyes darting between your lips and your startled expression. "I thought something had happened to you. But then, I woke the fuck up and realised you were safe - you just ghosted me. You know, I even contemplated driving over to your house? But I knew your dad wouldn't appreciate that. I thought I might never see you again, and then...there you were."
Rafe's words gushed forth like a sudden revelation. "There you were, shopping for groceries to cook for your dad, playing the dutiful daughter, blissfully content in your little world, while mine was hell." He spat out the words with venom, his fingers tensing at the nape of your neck, pulling you so close that his lips were mere millimeters from yours. His eyes, swirling with turmoil, locked intensely onto your eyes, which were now brimming with unshed tears.
"So, while I'm relieved you're okay," he started, his lips curving into a slight pout as he painstakingly enunciated each word, "You owe me. You owe me for thinking about you. You owe me for worrying about you. Now, open your mouth."
"Rafe," you whispered, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.
"I said, open. Your. Mouth." His voice hardened, his command leaving no room for doubt.
Your broken sob was all it took for Rafe to swoop in, kissing you passionately. His tongue probed the depths of your mouth, and you willingly complied, feeling the unmistakable force in his movements - raw, desperate, determined.
With each passing moment, Rafe deepened the kiss, leaning into you even further. He poured in his passion, demanding that you returned it with equal intensity, leaving your head spinning and your heart aching. The sheer intensity of the moment left you gasping for breath, and as Rafe's lips left yours to press desperate, kisses against your cheek and down the column of your throat you felt like you couldn't breathe at all.
"Please, I have to go, I have to," you managed to muster, pulling his fingers away and pushing him back. With a surge of determination, you grabbed your grocery bag and yanked on the passenger door, only for Rafe to swiftly reach over and slam it shut.
You turned to face him, struggling to catch your breath and see him through your teary haze. Rafe's face portrayed a picture of calm, cold calculation, with only the harsh puffs of air escaping his lips marring that composure. "You're making this difficult," he uttered, his voice echoing the icy chill of his demeanor. "It doesn't have to be."
Rafe relinquished his hold on the door, and you seized the opportunity, yanking it open. You nearly lost your balance in the process but managed to catch yourself just in time. Without daring to look back, you bolted towards your porch. Only when you heard the grating sound of his truck pulling away and tires screeching against the gravel did you risk a glance back.
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The rhythmic splash of water against the wooden planks of the dinghy was the only sound as you and your cousin worked in tandem, freeing the crawfish from their nets and emptying them into plastic buckets filled with fresh water.
The usual serene ambiance of your shared task was disrupted by the thickening tension in the air, both from the approaching storm and from the heavy silence your cousin seemed eager to shatter.
"You know," she began, her voice deliberately casual, "Konnie's been running her mouth again."
You looked up from the net you were shaking above the bucket of cold water, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, yeah? What crazy story has she cooked up this time?"
She hesitated, then said with faux nonchalance, "Something about seeing Rafe with a girl yesterday. Says she looked a lot like you."
"What?" You froze mid-shake, a flicker of surprise crossing your face.
"Wild, right?”
Forcing a laugh, you attempted to balance surprise with casual dismissal. "Konnie's always been good at making stuff up."
She glanced sharply at you, her gaze assessing. "It's not ‘making stuff up’ if Barry was there to corroborate it."
The weight of the revelation pulled at your focus.
“This sounds like something out of a K-drama," you whispered, your focus back on your trap.
"Isn't it just? Our Kook King looking down on half the town like we're nothing but shit beneath his shoes, is with a Pogue. An actual born and bred Pogue. I don’t know if that’s rich in irony or if it makes him a hypocrite?" She laughed bitterly.
"Both, probably, if it were true. But it’s not.”
She nodded slowly. "Right well, Konnie said Barry tried to stop Rafe from making a scene. Why would Rafe be making a scene?” she asked, her eyes locked onto you.
Your fingers tightened around the net, your heart beating in your throat. "I don't know. It's Outer Banks. People talk. They get things wrong and--"
She sighed, leaning closer. "Is there something going on between you and Rafe?”
“No, there isn't—"
“Because if there is, I need to know. Like, are you sleeping with him-“
“No!”
“Then are you dating him?”
“No- it’s not like that." You said shaking your head profusely.
"Then what's it like?"
"I babysit his sister you know that—" you faltered under your cousin's intense gaze. "He just happened to be in town when I was grocery shopping and he gave me a ride home. Nothing happened.”
Your cousin gave out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "A minute ago you were acting like it was some baseless rumour—”
"Because you were freaking me out! What else was I supposed to say? You just came at me with a bunch of questions like I did something wrong" You said, your face hot.
You couldn’t help but notice your cousin’s frustrated sigh.
“Look, I’ve got your back, regardless of whatever is going on here. And I can’t tell you how to live your life, that's for you to decide. But, Rafe-- Rafe is not the type of guy you want to be involved with in any capacity. I thought you knew that.” The distant growl of thunder underscored the urgency of her words.
“I do, and I’m not,” you said, licking your lips.
“Good. Because Rafe would never risk being seen in public with a Pogue, let alone put his reputation on the line for one. If you get involved with him, you'll be the one who ends up getting hurt."
"I know," you murmured in agreement.
She nodded and looked up at the darkening sky. "Good. Just making sure we're on the same page is all."
"We are," You nodded, barely able to meet her eyes. "We should hurry," you said quietly. "A storm's coming."
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During the subsequent week, Rafe had surfaced in your life more times than in the previous three weeks of no contact. Initially, you brushed it off as mere coincidence. You saw him at the market, then again at the docks, immersed in intense conversation with his friends, and once again at the wreck when you went to pick up food. Each encounter was brief, like an encounter with a spectre and each time you slipped away, thankfully, unseen.
With your heart hammering in your chest, you assured yourself that he wasn't intentionally seeking you out. You dismissed these run-ins as sheer coincidence. That's what you convinced yourself, at least.
Until the Library.
Your heart stuttered as you spotted him through the double doors just as you were about to exit. There he was, nonchalantly leaning against his truck, eyes concealed behind Ray-Bans and his arms folded.
Despite the casual stance, his presence radiated terrifying, intimidating energy. His posture, his unwavering gaze, his patient vigil - it all pointed towards one intention. It felt like you had been doused with cold water when realization struck-
Rafe was waiting.
For you.
Two choices lay before you. Either you could escape through the back door or find a window to climb out of. But deep down, you knew these would only delay the inevitable. It was time to confront the situation. Harnessing every ounce of courage, you resolved to put an end to this.
Usually, you'd carry only a handful of books, but today you had filled your tote. The thought of smacking Rafe in the head with it seemed like a good option. Adjusting the strap on your shoulder and gripping the bag firmly, you pulled the brass handle, flung open the door, and strode down the library’s stone steps, your chin lifted high.
A grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat split Rafe's face, his teeth flashing with amusement as he watched you. But you didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. You breezed past him, leaving him behind in your determined stride.
Not long after, Rafe slipped into his truck and drove alongside you, his arm hanging out of the window, eyes flicking between you and the road.
"It's gonna rain, you know." he said. His voice, smooth as silk, echoed around you. You kept walking, acting as if his words had fallen on deaf ears, yet they hung ominously in the air.
"It's gonna rain, you know," Rafe repeated, amusement tingeing his tone.
"I heard you the first time," you snapped, your voice sharper than you had intended.
Rafe whistled in surprise. His grin only widened, “Come on, don't be like that. Get in. I'll give you a ride."
You faltered for a moment at his offer, but quickly regained your stride. "I don't need anything from you, Rafe."
"Sure about that?" He drawled, his truck moving at the same steady pace as you.
The thrum of your heartbeat in your ears underscored your steely resolve, refusing to meet his gaze. The truck's engine growled ominously at your side.
"You know, a ride with me wouldn't be so bad. In fact, you might enjoy it”
"I'd rather get hit by lightning," you fired back, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead.
Rafe removed his sunglasses and lightly tossed them on the dash. His silence was heavy, bearing witness to your defiance before his voice returned, a touch of impatience coating his words. "So how much longer are you planning to keep this up?"
“What do you mean? Keeping what up?”
“Running...pretending like you don’t give a shit—”
"Who said anything about running? I'm walking away. There's a difference."
"Oh, is that what this is? Right. Right." He drawled, the truck maintaining its constant presence by your side. "Well, it looks more like running to me."
"You can think whatever you want, Rafe. I really don’t care" Your words were as icy as a protective shield, distancing you from his unnerving scrutiny.
"You know," he spoke after another pause, his voice melting into a softer, intimate cadence, "You'd think I'd be bored by now but nah, I like these little interactions of ours. I look forward to them, actually…”
"Don't," you managed to whisper.
"Don't what?" He questioned, feigned innocence in his tone. You could hear the smirk in his voice, a symbol of triumph despite your rebuffs.
"Just leave me alone, Rafe."
"You know I can't do that," he declared with unshakeable certainty.
"Why not?" You shot back, halting to confront him and Rafe hit the brakes. As you turned to face him, the first drops of rain began to fall, soaking your skin and hair. You surrendered to the sensation, letting the rain blur your surroundings into an indistinct haze. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"
A fleeting wave of vulnerability crossed Rafe's face, causing his confident smile to momentarily falter. "You know why..." He began, licking his lips, as if the weight of his next words were a challenge to articulate.
"No, I don’t. Aren't there plenty of Kooks you should be chasing after? Isn't that supposed to be your speed, anyway?" Your voice was laced with a mix of frustration and genuine curiosity.
He exhaled slowly, his eyes unwavering, locked onto yours. "Okay, you want me to spell it out? Fine." Leaning in just slightly, ensuring every word landed with intent, he said, "I like you, yeah? Not some Kook or a Touron. You." And then, softer, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the rain, "You know I do." The quiet intensity of his affirmation sent shivers down your spine. It was a truth both of you had danced around, a truth as terrifying as it was undeniable. Time seemed to stretch in that moment, punctuated only by the drumming rain and the frantic pace of your heart.
You swallowed hard, battling the storm of emotions threatening to spill out. "Well, you have a peculiar way of showing it," you managed to say, your voice quivering with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. His unexpected honesty had pulled the rug out from under your feet, leaving you reeling. "You've been stalking me, trying to intimidate me, forcing me to do things I don't want to--"
"Forcing you?" Rafe’s gaze hardened as he studied your face. "Forcing you? I’m forcing you?”
“Yes, Rafe. Forcing me,” you protested, the words tinged with desperation, a last-ditch attempt to create distance between you two.
Rafe chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. “I'm forcing you, but you came harder than you've ever done in your entire life just from my fingers. I'm forcing you, but you came so many times you could barely remember your own name--"
"I never wanted any of that! I didn't ask for any of that—" You tried to reason only for Rafe to silence you with a frustrated roar, his hand banging on the steering wheel.
"Get in the fucking truck!!"
"No!" you laughed shakily “No. in fact, I'm perfectly fine. Right. Here." you declared defiantly, tilting your head back to let the rain wash over you. A temporary respite came with your eyes squeezed shut. When you dared to open them again, Rafe was still there, an unwavering, persistent figure.
With another heavy sigh, Rafe surrendered. "Alright." he nodded bitterly "Alright, You're really gonna make me do this, huh?"
"Do what?" you retorted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Before you could decipher his next move, Rafe abruptly killed the engine, flung open the door and stepped out into the torrential downpour. The heavens seemed intent on soaking him through. Droplets of rain lashed down, darkening his shirt until it clung to his chiseled torso, revealing the muscular contours beneath.
"What the fuck," you whispered under your breath, your heart racing from his unexpected action. There he stood, defiant against the torrential rain, every drop sliding down his chiseled features, his piercing eyes never wavering from yours.
Time seemed to stand still until, driven by some invisible force, Rafe lunged forward pulling you into his embrace, his lips fiercely meeting yours.
His lips was soft. Not demanding and you found yourself responding instinctively. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as your hands moved to grip the wet fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. You could taste the rain on his lips, mingled with the hint of sweetness from the soda he had been drinking earlier. The world disappeared.
There was only him.
The kiss deepened, Rafe's hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your rain-soaked hair, while his other arm snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. His touch sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine, setting your nerves alight. The rain beating down on you both seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the thunderous pounding of your heart.
His lips moved with a fervor that left you breathless, each stroke of his tongue against yours an echo of the underlying passion and yearning that had been simmering beneath the surface. Every sensation, every emotion was amplified tenfold in the shared intimacy of the kiss. You surrendered completely to the moment, losing yourself in the touch of his skin, the strength of his hold, and the intoxicating taste of his lips.
Eventually, the kiss slowed, the initial fervor simmering into something softer, sweeter. Rafe broke away, his breath shaky. His eyes held yours captive, and a flush crept onto his face. His fingers traced a path down your cheek, before he finally stepped back.
"We can do this two ways," Rafe murmured over the steady patter of rain on the truck's roof. Pure mischief danced in his eyes as he stated, "I can drag you kicking and screaming and trust me, I’ll enjoy every minute of it, or you can walk and get in on your own. But either way - you're getting in the truck. Your call."
Wordlessly, you pivoted and moved towards the truck, your boots crunching against the rain-dampened gravel.
"That's what I thought," Rafe replied, a victorious grin splitting his rain-speckled face as he caught your fleeting glare. Unruffled, he stretched out his hand, popping open the weather-beaten door with a familiar creak lost in the drumming rain. His hand was warm and steady as he helped you up into the seat, the fabric of your clothes already beginning to stick to the leather.
In one fluid movement, Rafe navigated around the truck, momentarily swallowed by the spray of the falling rain before reappearing on the driver's side. With a clunk, the door closed behind him, sealing out the chill and sound of the heavy rain. His wrist flicked, the ignition turning over and the engine’s steady rumble intertwining with the rhythmic tapping of raindrops on the roof.
Leaning over the seat, Rafe's momentarily searched around the back. When he reappeared, he held a well-used, grey fleece jacket, its fabric softened by countless washes.
"Here," he offered, his voice barely louder than the muted patter of the rain against the windows. He extended it towards you, his fingers brushing against yours in exchange.
"Thank you," you replied, accepting the jacket. The fleece was surprisingly warm, a welcome contrast to the chill spreading through your rain-soaked clothes.
Rafe maneuvered the truck through the storm your house barely discernible in the relentless deluge. He parked close to your porch, an unspoken gesture to spare you from the worst of the rain. When he switched off the engine, the absence of its rumble made the cab feel suddenly small. The silence that enveloped you both was thick, charged with unsaid words and emotions neither of you didn't know how to share.
Rafe turned to face you, the dim glow from the dashboard lights casting a soft luminescence on his features. Rain droplets traced shimmering paths down his face, catching on his eyelashes and hanging at the tips. His gaze held yours, searching, longing, a question lingering in his eyes.
Swallowing hard, you broke the silence. "Want to come in?" The words hung in the air, tender and tentative. "Maybe dry off a little before hitting the road?"
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"Make yourself at home" you said.
With a click, you turned on the side lamp, illuminating the cozy sitting room in a warm glow. You excused yourself, leaving Rafe momentarily to fetch some things for him. From the hallway closet, you grabbed a clean towel, and after a brief rummage through your dad's wardrobe, you found a red plaid shirt that might fit him. Deciding to change yourself, you quickly slipped into a comfortable, loose faded shirt and denim shorts.
Upon your return, you found Rafe intently examining the family photos that adorned your walls. The captured moments were a mix of joyful events and everyday life: you proudly holding up your first caught fish, a close-up with you and a school friend age seven with your front teeth missing, an affectionate snapshot of your parents in a tender embrace, and a cherished image of baby you, seated on your dad's lap at the piano. Each photo was a silent testament to days that were simpler, happier.
Rafe, towering in your small living room, shifted his gaze to the old piano settled in one corner. The instrument, though aged, held a simple grace.
“It’s not as grand as the one at your place,” you remarked gently, catching his attention. As his gaze shifted to you, there was a perceptible pause as his eyes traveled down to your legs and then resettled on your face.
"But it still has its charm, right?"
“I guess,” you shrugged, closing the distance between you two and handing him the towel and shirt.
Your fingers brushed with the exchange, sending a thrill through you. With a grateful nod, Rafe dried his head and face. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling the wet fabric from his slacks, peeling it off his body. As he revealed inch after inch of lean muscle and beautifully tanned, unmarked skin, you couldn't help but admire the flawless appearance—a testament to his privileged Kook life.
“Can't take your eyes off, can you? Want a guided tour?” He teased.
“Dream on, Cameron,” you shot back, attempting to sound casual, but the playful glint in his eyes suggested he knew exactly the effect he was having on you. The sound of his confident chuckle filled the room with warmth.
“How long have you had it?” he inquired, head tilting towards the piano.
“You mean Betsy?”
Rafe smiled “It has a name?”
“Of course. We've had her as long as I can remember. My dad got her before I was born. She’s older than I am,” you confessed with a fond smile.
"Go on, play for me," Rafe murmured, the timbre of his voice making it feel less like a request and more like an intimate invite.
The memory of the last time you played for him, and what had ensued, made you take a deep breath. But you shook off the feeling, reminding yourself that your bench was, luckily, a one-seater. "I'll play," you said with a small smile, "but you've got to promise to behave."
Rafe chuckled, leaning back on the couch, wearing your dad's shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. His smirk was wicked and teasing, the very embodiment of temptation itself. "No promises."
Rolling your eyes. You took a seat on the bench and began to play, allowing the music to flow through your fingers. Each note resonated with the room, reflecting the myriad emotions swirling within you. The gentle glow of the room's lighting seemed to dance in tune with the melody, casting warm and shifting shadows. The scent of the rain outside mingled with the familiar smells of your home, creating an atmosphere of nostalgia and present moments intertwining. As the final note lingered in the air, caressing the silence that followed, you turned to find Rafe's gaze fixed intently on you. His eyes, laden with intensity and yearning.
“Come here,” he said softly, his voice filled with something deeper, something unspoken. He leaned back against the sofa, extending his hand to you.
With a deep breath, and a flutter in your chest, you walked towards him, finally straddling him, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath you, knowing that this moment was a milestone, a turning point in whatever it was that was unfolding between you two.
Rafe's fingers delicately trailed along your thighs, taking in every curve and contour. He lingered for a moment on a mole on your left leg, brushing his thumb over its slightly elevated surface. Every touch ignited a fire on your skin, an intimate dance of warmth and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, they ascended up your sides and Rafe sat up.
Suddenly his hands wrapped around your neck, tipping your head back with a possessiveness that made you gasp. The raw strength in his grip was undeniable; he held the power to hurt you. But somewhere deep down, amidst the swirling mix of emotions, you felt an unwavering trust that he wouldn't.
With your head tilted back, you found yourself drowning in Rafe's gaze. He examined your features, delicately turning your face this way and that, softly illuminated by the nearby lamp. Every aspect of your countenance seemed to fascinate him, but it was his own features — the small scar above his right eyebrow, the striking high cheekbones, thick lashes, and those mesmerizing blue eyes — that captivated you in return. When those very eyes briefly lingered on your lips, and his thumb gently brushed against them a sharp inhale caught in your throat.
"So fuckin' pretty," Rafe breathed, the weight of his words heavy in the brief silence that followed. Then, with an urgency that stole your breath away, he captured your lips with his. His kiss was both tender and powerful, a dance of tongues and unspoken passion.
His hands moved from your neck, sliding beneath your shirt finally touching bare skin to wrap around you. The world seemed to tilt as he expertly turned, positioning you beneath him without breaking the kiss.
Rafe's fingers found the buttons of your shirt. Each one he undid was like unwrapping a gift, each sliver of exposed skin driving him further into a fervor kissing you deeper until he pulled away from your lips altogether to look down and savour your breasts.
“I knew it…” he whispered “You’re gorgeous...” and wasted no time in swirling his tongue around your pert nipple before sucking it into his mouth. His other hand kneading the tender flesh of your other breast oh so softly.
Rafe's touch sent waves of electricity coursing through your body, each sensation igniting the desire between your thighs. With every gentle tug, every teasing bite, you surrendered to your longing, your moans a symphony of need. While dampness formed at your core, evidence of your escalating arousal.
Leaving your nipple, his lips sought your cheek, his fingers deftly finding the button of your shorts, effortlessly undoing it. "I couldn't stop thinking about the way you squirted for me." he smiled, his voice a soft murmur in your ear.
"Ugh- Rafe, don't-" You couldn't help but groan, your hands instinctively covering your face in a mix of bashfulness and embarrassment.
"Come on, babe don't hide from me now," he urged, gently moving your hands away from your face. His unwavering gaze bore into you, with a magnetic intensity that held you captive. "It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen," he continued, his words wrapping around you like a sensual embrace. You responded with a mix of eye-rolling and a self-conscious laugh, but Rafe's touch on your jaw stilled your reaction.
"I'm serious," he insisted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Watching you moan for me all desperate and sweet. Feeling your pretty little pussy swallow my fingers... and then knowing I made you feel so fucking good you couldn't help but squirt…” Rafe groaned “Baby, I jerked off to the thought so many times I'm surprised my dick hasn't fallen off." he chuckled. "All I could think about these last few weeks was watching you cum. I wanna watch you cum." Rafe's words were a soft murmur, his unwavering gaze locked onto yours.
Adjusting his position slightly, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans shorts, a deliberate slowness in his movements as he eased them down your body. His breath quickened, his eyes devouring the sight of you in your white panties, damp with the evidence of your arousal.
Moistening his lips, he carefully tugged down your panties, guiding your legs free from their confines. He stared at your pussy taking his fill.
"Pretty as a picture," he whispered. Settling in beside you, he rested his head on his palm, his gaze fixed upon you. "I want to watch you cum, but this time..." Rafe tenderly parted your legs, cradling your knees and exposing you fully to the room's golden light. "This time, I want to see everything," he murmured.
His fingers traced the contours of your mound, the subtle hills and valleys of your skin. A light dusting of pubic hair added to the texture he was exploring. There, at your slit, a glistening collection of your arousal had formed. With a gentle touch, he collected a bead of it on his fingertip, his eyes locked onto your face. Bringing his finger to his lips, he sensually tasted you, an intense hunger gleaming in his gaze.
"I’ll need to eat this pussy too..." he murmured, nodding as if confirming an important task on his list of things to do. "But let's take it one step at a time, yeah? Don't want you running away from me anytime soon." His words held a trace of humor, a playful acknowledgment of the strained heated desires between you two. You were about to chastise him but his lips captured yours in a hungry kiss. While your mouths entwined, Rafe's finger moved back to your clit, his gentle movements coaxing a moan from your lips.
Just as you were sinking into his heavenly touch, Rafe broke the kiss and gently pulled his finger away from your clit. The absence of his touch almost prompted a whine from you, but Rafe quickly quieted you with a gentle shush. With a practiced finesse that revealed a glimpse of his dexterity, he employed his teeth to deftly remove the signet ring that encircled his finger. The ring glided off smoothly, lingering briefly within his mouth before finding its place in his pants pocket. His voice, laced with desire, broke the silence in a husky murmur, "Can’t go deep with a ring in the way, can we?” With deliberate intent, he returned his two fingers between your folds and wormed them inside you.
"Oh god, oh shit-" The fabric of Rafe's (or rather, your dad’s) shirt twisted beneath the force of your grip, your fingers curling and clenching as a flood of both pleasure and pain surged through your core. He was not lying when he said he was going to go deep.
Admitting comfort at this moment wouldn't be honest, not with the way his fingers were delving inside you, pushing against your tight channel. The fine line between discomfort and pleasure was being treaded, a line that teased just on the cusp of crossing into one or the other. Strangely, there was an undeniable allure in feeling so exquisitely full and it dawned on you that even with the mingling pain you liked being full.
With a mix of awe and submission, you embraced the realization that this was indeed what your body was designed for—an intricate dance of taking and being taken. The recognition of your body's innate capacity to accept him, to welcome him so completely, was a mesmerizing revelation that you couldn't help but marvel at.
As your gaze drifted downward, you couldn't help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the sight that greeted you. His long, skillful fingers moved sinfully, withdrawing and reentering, each motion leaving them glistening with the evidence of your arousal. The sight and sound was hypnotic, and as a drawn-out moan escaped your lips, you couldn't help but notice Rafe's gaze following suit, his own reaction mirrored in the form of a needy groan.
"God, look at you. Taking it all the way to my palm... making a pretty mess." he quipped, his voice trembling with desire as a shaky chuckle escaped him. "Does it hurt?"
You gasped in response, the honesty ringing true in your voice, "A little."
A low, almost guttural groan escaped Rafe's lips, his tongue darting out to moisten his suddenly dry lips. "Yeah, but you like it, don't you? That slight twinge of pain. Hurts good, doesn't it?"
A slow, almost reverent nod escaped you as your eyes rolled backward, caught in the riptide of sensation. Your hand joined Rafe's at his wrist, a desperate yearning to connect more deeply with the source of your pleasure and the exquisite ache that accompanied it. You craved the sensation of his every stroke, each movement a testament to his mastery over your desire. Your hips began to sway, an instinctual response, seeking more friction, a little extra pressure to tip the scale just a bit further into pleasure. When you started to pluck and gently pull on your nipple you had finally reached it.
"Shit. That's it. Take what you need, baby.” He whispered. His tongue made its way back to your other nipple sucking on the tender flesh while he stared up at you. His gentle tongue swirling and firm hard fingers relentlessly drilling and your own hand gently plucking had you seeing stars and then some. You could feel his cock, thick and stiff brushing against your side as he rutted slowly against you seeking friction and for the first time you began to whine in sheer desperation, wishing he had fucked you with his cock instead.
"Use your words, baby," Rafe's voice held an almost teasing quality. "I want to know how good it feels—for next time when you accuse me of forcing you..."
You should have been mad, outraged even, by his audacity. But there was a magnetic pull in his words, a spell that rendered your protests powerless against the tide of pleasure that had you firmly in its grasp. The chorus of moans that spilled from your lips was a testament to your surrender "Don't stop- feels so good. Oh god, ‘m close. So close. Please Rafe-- please.. please... please.." Your words quivered with a mixture of urgency and need, punctuated by the ragged rhythm of your breath as your body shook.
As if on cue, Rafe applied a cork-screw motion, his fingers expertly stroking your G-spot with fervor. Your orgasm surged forth, violent and all-consuming. Waves of ecstacy coursed through your body, compelling your abdomen to convulse, and your leg to kick, a response to Rafe speeding up his efforts, fingers plunging deep while his thumb orchestrated rapid blissful circles on your clit.
"OH, FUCK-- OH RAFE!!!" Your voice filled the room as you were swept away in the throes of your orgasm. You couldn’t help but soak his fingers, and like a breached dam, overflowing and cascading, so too did your juices overflow as it trickled down to the cleft of your ass.
"Fuck—" Rafe hissed, his voice strained. "Ah, shit!" he sneered through clenched teeth. Overwhelmed at the sight, feel and sound of you screaming his name, his hips involuntarily jerked as he came. An untouched release that left him gasping for breath. His moans blended with yours, a beautiful song of shared pleasure that only ended when he leaned in for a messy kiss.
His gaze never wavered; it feasted on every second of your reaction and revelled in the glorious aftermath. You were glowing, skin flushed and alive from the intensity of your climax. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat glistening off of your exposed breasts. Legs still spread, revealing the slippery mess with his fingers buried deep in you.
If you weren't so strung out from your orgasm, the opportunity to catch a glimpse of something more in his expression might have presented itself. A fleeting flicker of his unwavering fixation taking root, a mere hint of the deeper obsession he harbored for you. But instead your eyes closed, your lips forming a satisfied, lopsided grin. You couldn’t think. In fact, you couldn't care about anything at all.
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Feedback is always appreciated. Lots of love until next time and thanks for reading.
UPDATES - PART 3 / MASTERLIST
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Text
"I've got your back" Devilgram is literally just Mammon having ADHD and MC being the most supportive partner ever.
It's just,
A project with a deadline completely takes over your life. You've been at it for so long you're in physical pain and haven't eaten or gotten any fresh air
You feel your concentration start to slip and you know it'll be an uphill battle to regain it. Trying to force yourself to stay on task makes you angry and frustrated
You have to coerce your brain into staying on task by promising yourself a reward after a set period of time
After your first reward/break it's harder to stay on task and your second work period ends up being significantly shorter than your first because you just can't concentrate
You convince yourself getting up and going to get some fresh air will do you good. This is not true, you have a deadline, you are fucked. You are now suddenly playing basketball
You try to get back to task but get distracted by multiple unrelated things that you tell yourself you must do before you can/in order to complete your task
You end up relating your hyperfixation to your task and now you're back to only doing your task with 0 thoughts to anything else
You lose your entire drive at the very last stage of the task. Nothing you do is helping you get back to it. You convince yourself this is okay. You watch youtube videos while sitting next to your unfinished project while your perfectionism wails in your brain
In the end, you finish the last stage on the very last day of the deadline
And MC is just understanding and accommodative through all of this. They offer support, but they are not overbearing. They know they can't force Mammon to do something when he has lost his focus, but they also know what to do to motivate him and help him regain it. They realise when he needs motivation to continue, and when he actually needs a break, and when he's procrastinating and needs to be reminded of his project, and how to connect grimm to the project, and how to support him without hovering but also how to bring him food and take him out to have fresh air and to move about when it's needed, they know he won't be happy if he gave up at the very end and they knew getting Mammon to actually see the appreciation, validation, respect, and awe from another person Mammon cares about deeply but someone Mammon also knows won't be biased towards anything he did like MC is, was what Mammon needed to find the motivation to finish his project
I need MC.
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buckyysdoll · 9 months
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— john fucking walker —
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જ⁀➴ — summary: bucky’s not happy to learn who exactly your mission for tonight 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬; a/n: done as mini fic for this 15min challenge! thank you @amournoir for the tag ❤︎︎, and anyone else feel free to join in! pairing: fatws bucky x f! reader; cw: the word “fucking”??, possessive bucky, implied threat :) xo
MAIN MASTERLIST
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“No. Absolutely not.”
“Bucky —”
“No. I don’t care, I said no.”
You sighed, having been in this circular argument for close to an hour, by now. It was so unlike him to be this unrelenting, but in truth? You couldn’t blame him too much.
If there was one thing on earth that you wanted least of all it was to have to be John Walker’s “date.”
You finished putting in your last earring and moved from the mirror, turning square to face Bucky. On any other night his eyes might’ve darkened with want to see you in that dress — but now the clench to his jaw and the hardness within them was for who you were wearing it for.
John fucking Walker.
Your voice softened as you walked to him, standing where he was in your apartment living room. You couldn’t fight with him on this, you didn’t want to anymore — and neither one of you had much choice about tonight.
“You know why I have to do it.” You circled your arms around his neck, searched his face. And when you found it still in stubborn conflict, you took a hand and laid it on his cheek; an assurance.
“That doesn’t make it feel any easier.” Bucky’s voice was still edged, but it wasn’t aimed at you. It was purely for the man who would be with you for tonight, who’d have you laughing at his jokes, and who would touch you —
Just for fucking appearance.
Still though, your touch seemed to temper him enough that he turned inwards to your hand, kissed your wrist. And with your other hand braced at his neck, going up to his hair, he shut his eyes against envy.
“It sends a good message,” you continued, damn well hoping it was true. For if you had to suffer long in that man’s company then lord give you strength — there’d better be a good reason.
And if you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself as much as him? Then it was true, because you were, because you did not want to go.
“Hm, I’m sure it does.” Sarcasm dripped from each word, each syllable. But even as he said it he soothed small circles on your back, and you knew it was for his own comfort, too, as much as it was for yours.
You rolled your eyes lightly, with affection. “It’ll only be a few hours sweetheart. And then I’ll be home.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. Another, you gave to his forehead, each temple — your last to the corner of his mouth. “Home to you.”
Finally, finally, Bucky breathed out a low sigh, and tension left him in each place your lips touched. Your hands settled at his waist and his own found each side of your face, cradling you as he kissed your mouth once and it lingered long after he’d stopped.
His warning was equal parts softness and threat, and your answering smile was, too.
“If he touches you, I’ll kill him.”
“I know. And I’ll make sure that he does, too.”
✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪
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revasserium · 11 months
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stargazing
malleus; 818 words; fluff... btwn ch5 and 6 bc i can't stop thinking about malleus turning up to vdc cause mc invited him during one of his midnight walks
“hey! horns!”
“hm? are you still referring to me by that name, child of man?”
the night is dark and thick around you as you flash malleus a smile, leaning on your opened windowsill. at the lilt of your head, malleus pauses, going still as he watches you — so young, so naïve, so… unrelenting.
“what, you don’t like it?”
the prince is a thing of thorn and edge and cool, flickering green flame. still, something like amusement warms his chest as he turns, slow and then slower, his curiosity blossoming inside him like hunger, sharp and sweet. he wets his lips, whets his indelible curiosity against his better judgement and lets the curiosity win. briefly, he wonders if the sayings are true — that it might be a thing of murder, that it might hold so much power.
he takes three long steps towards your window. like this, he almost has to look up to meet your eyes.
almost.
“i don’t mind it.”
you laugh, the sound soft and feather-light in the velveteen night. it reminds him of the firefly lights — tiny and effervescent as they are, glittering still against the ever-encroaching darkness, mindless of their own futility.
“so… were you ever gonna tell me you were — what, the crown prince of briar valley?” and here, he finds you laughing again, as if this were some joking matter, as if his position weren’t pressed into the brittle of his bones, sewn into the rigid line of his shoulders, laced into the poison of his smile.
you slump down, resting your cheek against one of your folded arms.
“where is that, even?”
malleus allows himself something akin to laughter as well, letting the sound bubble through him. before he met you, he would’ve thought it felt like poison — roiling in the cauldron of his stomach, bitter and dangerous. but now, he thinks it might feel something like singing, the sound pouring from him, spilling out of him sweet tea or song.
“nowhere of consequence to you, child of man.”
“hm… so, it’s a secret, then?”
he finds himself oddly entranced by the teasing sweep of your lips, by the way your eyes are just a shade too bright. in them, he finds the crescent moon — he finds himself too, but not as he’s always pictured himself. to you, he’s just another student, tall and imposing and strange, but up until now, you’ve had no reason to think otherwise of him. and still, and still…
“not in the slightest.”
“so, show me.”
“would you like to see it, one day? i suppose it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.”
you brighten, impossibly. and malleus, not for the first time, finds himself held still by your excitement, by your unwavering trust. by your unassuming nature. has anyone ever looked upon him with such pure, wonderous hope? with not a hint of expectation or hesitation, not a thread of fear or trepidation?
no. he doesn’t think they have.
and yet, here you are, plain as the swinging, silver moon, cut across the star-strewn sky.
“i’d love to!”
“then i suppose you have to stay here long enough.”
“hm?” you cock your head at him and he find himself smiling.
“well, if you were to find your way back to that other world of yours… i might never get to show you briar valley.”
but to his surprise, you simply shrug, waving a hand through the air as if shooing off butterflies.
“oh, i’m not too worried about that. aren’t you like, the most powerful mage ever?”
malleus chuckles, fighting the urge to press a finger to his own lips, to swallow back the sound.
“one of, yes.”
you shrug again, propping your chin on the heel of your hand as your eyes travel up the length of his horns, and then back down again.
“then i’m sure you’ll find a way to bring me back for a tour of your hometown. it’ll be easy!”
malleus nods thoughtfully, watching as you cast your eyes up towards the cloudless sky. you point at the stars, exclaiming about some constellation or other, and he follows your gaze, leaning back against the cool brick of of the wall next to your opened window, letting your voice wash over him like water from a babbling brook.
yes, he thinks, he really would like to show you briar valley one day — be it tomorrow, or the day after. or, perhaps, years from now. still, it’s an invitation extended, and he’s not one to go back on his word.
and yes, he muses, if you were one day to find your way back home, he would find a way to bring you back, even if it took him the rest of his life to do it.
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jimalim · 7 months
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"About that..." Marie awkwardly beings to piggyback off the flirtatious tone switch in their current conversation. "I feel like we should probably address this sooner than later." She motions her finger between them, drawing attention to the change in their vibe.
Ever since they kissed, things have been charged, but they haven't actually talked about it. Or acted upon it again. Despite the handful of times they've come close.
Jordan clears her throat, suddenly nervous in Marie's presence. The confident air about her quickly melts away. She shifts and he stands tall. The cough in his throat deepening. He can only nod for Marie to continue, because he's completely unable to read her in this moment.
"I know we've been caught up in," Marie waves her hands, unable to narrow all the insanity down to a consise label. She pauses and watches Jordan's face, looking for signs. The way he swallows and his jaw clentches silently confims Marie's suspicions that there's insecurity on Jordan's end.
He runs a hand through his hair, "things were crazy, we got caught up..."
Marie hangs her head. It's somehow both exactly and also not at all what she was expecting. It's an easy out. An active downplay of the situation as it was. Of the way things currently are.
But things shifted that day. The tension between them lost its malice and grew with increasing anticipation. Marie doesn't think they can just ignore that.
Nor does she want to.
Jordan remains silent.
Marie grits her teeth. "Tell me something." She pauses and waits for Jordan to look her in the eye. "Do you always give up this easily?"
"What?" Jordan asks in confused exasperation. The low blow coming from out of the blue.
Marie stands, and shrugs her shoulders. "I mean it would explain how you couldn't stop Luke."
And immediately, Jordan is up behind her switching once again. She steps up to Marie ready to fight the moment she turns around. She doesn't take the accusation kindly.
The smile that grows across Marie's face feels sinister. And the realization dawns on Jordan the moment Marie's low chuckle hits her ears.
"You're an asshole." Jordan coughs in retalliation for the decieving tatic. But the grin on her face deceives her, lighting up her eyes, and Marie giggles at the sight.
"Now that's more like the Jordan Li I know."
"And how's that?" Jordan asks with trepidation yet incredible curiosity.
Marie steps closer to her, getting into her personal space. "Determined." She takes another step closer. "Driven." Another step. "Unrelenting." Jordan switches form, bracing himself as Marie steps in even further, just a breath away. "But I sense hesitation."
Jordan tightens his jaw. It's true. They're extremely nervous about what a potential relationship with Marie could look like. The implications of their gender and if/how that may effect Marie's feelings about them.
Marie places a hand on Jordan's cheek and gently traces a finger over his brow.
"If this is what you're worried about," her hand trails across the sharp edge of his jaw, down his neck to his chest, across to his strong bicep. She squeezes tight. And whispers, "don't be."
Jordan watches as Marie's hand moves. His breath hitches as her fingers tickle his neck. His heart rate increases the closer her hand gets to covering it. He closes his eyes and let's the feeling of Marie gripping his arm hold him steady as he slips away.
Jordan opens her eyes to see Marie still looking at her intently. She breaths out a shaky breath and Marie smiles at her softly.
Marie's hand reverses it's path back up Jordan's neck to cradle her cheek. Her thumb grazes Jordan's lips and Marie bites her own.
After a moment of taking each other in, Jordan grins. Any qualms she may have had about their potential washes away. The flitatious bravado she's grown accustomed to in their most recent interactions comes flooding back. "So what I'm getting is, you really wanna kiss this me too."
Marie laughs. "You. I wanna kiss you, full stop." Indicating she doesn't care what form Jordan's in. She likes Jordan as they are.
Jordan cycles through shifting forms, back and forth, male, female, male, female, again and again as they inch closer to Marie. It's like a sexy game of Russian roulette, until she finally stops.
She closes the distance between them and encompasses Marie in her arms. Their lips entangle and they pick up right where they left off. Hands exploring bodies, bodies being pushed against walls, clothes being discarded across the floor.
They just hope they don't get interrupted this time.
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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year
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stranger things au where when it's all done, instead of the general fandom usual of NDA's and cover stories, those guys at the NINA Project figure out a way to use that same technology that brought El's memories back to instead wipe the memories of anyone involved in saving the world/ anyone who saw anything abnormal and replace them with the mundane.
It's the only foolproof way to make sure that none of That gets out, to make sure that no one decides to go poking around again 10 years down the line or write a book or a song or a movie that hits a little too closely to the truth, and the government loves themselves something that seems like a foolproof plan.
But what does this mean for our heroes? They don't remember the circumstances that brought them together, only the cover memories that were inserted in their place. They don't remember why they care so deeply for one another because a summer scooping ice cream or a walk through the woods or an-- impromptu game of baseball???-- doesn't quite line up with how it feels.
It feels bigger than that. It feels--
There are explanations for Steve's scars, he remembers a big dog and a trip to the ER, he remembers getting in a car accident and the seat belt coming loose enough to get stuck across his throat instead of his chest. He remembers-- blood on his hands, blood on his clothes, the outline of a man torn half to shreds--
He remembers a bad trip with Robin, but sometimes Robin will say something and it's-- when we got drugged- took those- when we uh, y'know tried LSD that time?-- fuzzy because of the bad trip of it all.
It's easy to accept the truth as the truth, because he remembers. It's easy, for years, to let the truth be the truth, to forget entirely that there are pieces that don't make sense, that there's no reason he should be as close with Dustin Henderson as he is because wait how did we meet? over a missing cat? It's easy, to just let it be true, because the love is there and that's what matters.
The love is there for a year and two and five and ten and Steve's life isn't always easy, in fact he's gone through his fair share of therapists for the insomnia none of them can explain, the confusion that both him and Robin talk about sometimes in the dead of night but can't remember talking about in the morning.
Eddie gets medicated for some sort of psychosis for a while because he had years of these intense night terrors that he could never explain to people, screaming at the top of his lungs, but the minute he would try to tell a shaking and terrified Steve or Robin or Nancy or whoever was present what it had been about he would just sob with frustration because he couldn't remember.
Max has a condition which made her lose her eyesight rapidly as a teenager, who has chronic pain that no doctors have ever found a real cause for despite Steve dragging her to appointment after appointment with fierce protectiveness in his eyes and voice, a desperation that there has to be a reason.
It's easy to accept it as the truth, that they all gravitated towards each other because they're all just a little fucked up in unrelated ways. That they connected to one another because oh you get scared sometimes too? scared like I do? scared like no one else understands?
Lucas starts spontaneously sobbing when some Kate Bush song plays on the radio in 1992. Can't explain it except that it hurts.
Nancy goes to a shooting range and feels her hands go steady for the first time in years in '93. She's never shot a gun before.
El Hopper had a traumatic enough childhood that doctors say she likely won't ever remember all of it, that her brain is protecting her, that-- that's probably true. They're doctors. They know better than Steve, they know about everything except why Max's legs hurt so bad she can't move sometimes.
They know everything except why Eddie can't feel pinned down without having a visceral belief he's dying.
They know everything except why Jonathan swears that their old house used to be painted a different color in the living room.
There are explanations for Steve's scars. He remembers a big dog.
Sharp teeth. Snarling.
He's in his thirties when he kisses Eddie Munson for the first time, because they're fucked in the head in the same ways, because no one else has ever gotten close enough to see the scars and hear the screaming and feel the desperation and not suggested maybe you need bigger help than I can give.
He's a grown man, and it's easy to believe the truth of his past, easy to think that growing older means it's supposed to be a little fuzzy around the edges, and that's okay because this feels bright and clear and technicolor, this thing with Eddie who has run away and come back half a dozen times but always does come back.
Whether he goes to Seattle or LA, New York or Boston; whether he and Steve are in the same place at the same time for more than a couple of weeks, he always comes back, they always find their way back to each other no matter where in the world, except--
Except there.
Everyone left that town with a haste-- or was it one at a time? No, it was the Byers first to California, except-- didn't Will graduate from that school? No. Because El went to school in Chicago at the same time that Robin started college there and she helped Will apply to the Arts Institute and--
And it was Max who went to California-- no, she was from there, but she also-- did she go back?
And why does Steve remember the house he grew up in but the minute he tries to step outside the back door onto the patio in his mind, out by the-- with the blue light and--
"Have you ever been back?" he asks Eddie one day, 32 years old and living in Chicago now full-time together. Robin's just down the road, Nancy's at the Tribune, Argyle has been franchising that coffee shop of his, is opening a spot here in town near his friends who he met when--
"Back where?" Eddie trails his hands through Steve's hair, laying half on top of each other on the couch and listening to some old tape of Jonathan's.
"Where we're from."
Eddie's fingers slow to an almost still and Steve props himself up to watch the way his brow furrows in concentration.
"Why would we go back?" he asks, and Steve has this flash-- like they've had this conversation before.
Like they've talked about where we're from before, although the name of the place never crosses their lips.
"I dunno," Steve slumps into Eddie's chest. They're getting older though so maybe just, "nostalgia?"
"Are you feeling nostalgic?" A rediscovered rhythm to gentle nails across his scalp. Soothing.
"It's where we met," Steve says. It feels true, although when he thinks about it-- "remember? How we met?"
"I..." Eddie's jaw clicks. It does that sometimes, on the same side with the scar.
There are explanations for Eddie's scars too-- a drug deal gone wrong, too many guys with too may knives-- or was it broken beer bottles? They used those as weapons, yeah. Tattered clothes and tattered skin and blood on Steve's hands--
No. He wasn't there. Blood on-- it was Dustin who found him? No. Wait, it was Wayne. Wayne found him, yeah, exactly--
"We met there," Eddie's gripping Steve's hair now, by the root. "We met back there. High school. Do you want to go back?
"Why would we go--"
Steve startles himself with the words, like they just-- like they weren't a choice to say, like they said themselves, like--
"Ed."
Breathing is tight. Steve sits up straight and looks at him. Scars on his face. Eyes so big and deep they hold endless histories--
"Eddie, do you want to go visit-- visit, uh, you know?"
"Why would we--" Eddie claps a hand over his mouth and hums out a sound of frightened discontent. "What. What the fuck."
"How did we meet, again?" Steve swallows. Eddie stands up, paces to the other side of the apartment.
"High school."
"How in high school?"
"Steve, I stopped taking those meds because they didn't help, but this isn't helping me not feel fucking certifiable either--"
"Eddie, I don't remember."
"Okay, so we're getting old!"
"We're not even middle aged!"
Eddie stops where he stands, shakes his head, and Steve watches him because it's easy to watch him, easy to look at the life they've lived and accept that they found each other, fell in love, because no one else gets what it's like to be fucked in the head. To know what's true and still feel wrong in that truth.
To believe it and still get lost in it.
Eddie clenches down on the tremble of his jaw and his eyes go big and imploring.
"What's happening, Stevie?"
There are explanations for all of it, but no one has ever been able to explain Max's pain or Nancy's sharp-shooting or Robin and Steve's inability to get drunk without losing it or the color of the paint in the Byers' old living room in that fucking town that Steve can't even think the name of--
"I'm calling Robin," he says, already striding across the floor. "I want to go back."
There are explanations.
Maybe that's not good enough anymore.
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Transfiguration
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Vic laughed as Chuck cheered at the tv screen.
He had been boisterous since Vic had put him there, excited to spend some free time with his buddy and a few games of prerecorded basketball. Typically, Chuck would be watching these alone at night, coming home at odd hours from work.
It felt good every time Vic could make some time for him. His excitement was always infectious, pushing Vic to be just as invested in the games. Of course, Vic would cheer for the other team to keep it interesting.
The past two games had them cussing each other out numerous times, all in good spirits of course. Vic would mirror his best friend in energy as they both took goals far too personally, shouting at each other to “get fucked” or “suck it nerd!”.
It was a lot of fun every time. Didn’t hurt that these hang outs were directly correlated with the lack of Richard in the apartment. He was an awkward guy and knew it. Got along fine with Chuck but when it was just him and Vic in the apartment, time just dragged. That was unfortunate considering Chuck was the only of the three with an in-person job.
Vic didn’t hate the guy, he was nice in his own right. Never a single problem in their living together, but both men knew they held zero chemistry. Richard was the type of guy to spend his time reading, while Vic just needed a little more fun as a companion. Someone who would go with him to go rock climbing with or to get some wrestling in.
Vic could appreciate Rich though on days like this. Rich was the only reason he got Chuck on weekdays, when the guy was typically so busy. He’d wracked up a big debt to the guy just for the opportunity of getting to kiss his buddy when the big man should be rewiring a house or something.
Vic was just shifting to make a move on the guy when he heard the door lock click. That was a shame. A post-game makeout sesh was his favorite part. When they were both still far too energized to sit with it.
This fun was over though. Chuck groaned beside him, realizing that too.
A familiar face opened the door. That same fluffy brown hair and scratchy stubble that Vic was just fantasizing about, now on a tired face. He still looked fine as hell, but working in cramped spaces with heavy equipment all day always drained the man.
It didn’t help that his eyes immediately locked onto Vic and the other Chuck, face immediately grimaced into annoyance.
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“Seriously man” he said, gesturing to his clone. “Stop doing this”
His clone snorted, rolling his eyes. “Shut up man, you're bringing down the vibe”
“Don’t tell me to shut up, you don’t get a say” Chuck snapped, “You’re not even supposed to exist”
That riled up the Chuck on the couch. “Well Vic thinks I’m pretty great! Spent the whole day with him when he needed me”
There was some humor in that, Vic could sort of see. The word need was maybe excessive. Did he need to do this, no. Did he want to do this, yes. Either way, he didn’t feel that bad about it.
“Richard was fine with it, so I don’t see the problem” Vic spoke up.
“You never see the problem and Rich is always fucking fine with it” the uniformed Chuck argued. “You two always end up doing this shit when you’re alone”
That was true. Vic and Rich just couldn’t stand the weirdness between each other. Vic got quickly annoyed at every conversation with the man that was stunted and weird. They’d awkwardly inhabit the same living space and be stuck in that unbearable situation of each other’s presence. Vic was pretty sure it was just some unrelenting sexual tension between the two, but Rich was about his straightness despite the way he evidently got hard watching Vic lift in the living room.
Honestly the fact that they could probably fuck and fix the whole rotten vibe was all the more frustrating to Vic. Rich was just too unfixably emotionally distant.
Fortunately, Vic wasn’t just an excellent at home worker.
Magic ran deep in his family and transfiguration was a specialization of his. Turning one thing to another was easy as pie, with just the snap of a finger.
Vic typically didn’t abuse it, although according to Chuck, he’d been abusing it more and more. Vic personally didn’t think he was at fault for it though. He didn’t even ask Rich this time if he could do it.
Chuck had left in his tight little electrician uniform, leaving nothing to the imagination. Vic had sulked as he was left to his devices, finishing his work super early as usual.
He’d just been about to head off to the gym when there was that oh so familiar knock on his bedroom door. The only time Rich ever really came to his door, equally bored. Coming to lean on the same vice they both used time and time again when they were both lonely and done with work. Rich had even already raided Chuck’s closet for an outfit, ready for what Vic would do.
He’d snapped and Rich’s body expanded and sculpted into the same Chuck that had left just an hour or two before. The distant gaze of Rich smoothed over as that jovial confidence took over, replacing the man in body and soul. The only thing remaining from Rich being that excitement in his eyes at the prospect of free time. Actual enjoyable free time, rather than the lonely free time all three of them would typically spend apart.
It was always wild facing the Chuck that would get angry about his creation of duplicates, considering that every fresh Chuck seemed so happy to be created. They’d come into existence with a roll of their eyes and a quick kiss before they pulled him off on whatever activity Chuck had been waiting for time to do.
The work Chuck would always argue with his double when they met, demanding that Vic turn the other him back into Rich.
Like now.
“You had your fun Vic, just bring Rich back” the uniformed Chuck said. “I just don’t want to deal with this”
“I don’t fucking want to be Rich” his twin argued back. “It’s not like you’re even the original Chuck anyways”
“Fuck off thats not true”
It was probably true. Vic had definitely forgotten which was which after a couple instances of this arguing. Sometimes the uniformed Chuck would shower and change, then go back to bickering with his clone. He’d always dress practically the same as his clone and then it was nearly impossible to differentiate the two. He’d just wait for the two to inevitably pass out and pick at random.
Vic didn’t really understand the drama of it all. There was still always one Chuck in the end. That was far better than what his family did most of the time. Hell his oldest brother had permanently replaced his father with a copy of himself. It wasn’t even a big deal, that shit was common. Now he just had two big brothers and one less shitty father.
Thinking about it, he should probably visit those guys soon. He missed them and they would find this shit funny.
Vic felt the need to butt in again.
“You know, Chuck, you’re not really convincing me that you’re MY Chuck” he said, putting his arm around the Chuck that had spent the day with him. That Chuck preened at the contact. “I quite like this guy”
The uniformed Chuck’s eyes widened in frustration. “I know you fucking like him, because he’s me. Why can’t you just wait for me to come home and hang out?”
“You always come home at like 1 am, I need more than that” Vic argued, using the edge of the basic commitment of a relationship.
Both Chucks cringed at that. For all that Vic probably abused his power, it really could be prevented by them making some time for him. They were more than just friends with benefits.
Chuck seemed to relent a bit. “I know…. It’s just I rather we figure that out than you give me an existential crisis every week. Its fucking distracting”
Distracting was the key word. Vic knew his buddy deep down. Not distressing or terrifying, but distressing. Vic wasn’t a sociopath, even if his views of transfiguration had different ethics than what a normal person would think. He’d seen his family drive people mad with change their minds and bodies before, unable to cope with their identities being putty.
Vic knew his friend wasn’t like that, no matter this weird charade he always put on. Chuck was like Rich in that way, always wanting something without being able to be honest with himself.
Chuck had a knack for that adrenaline, finding way too much pleasure in impermanence. It was the reason they always had such killer sex when there were two of him, Chuck riding high on the feeling of being so deep under Vic’s sway. Knowing that at any moment, Chuck could be shifted into a completely different person.
Chuck was at conflict with himself though and a degree of self preservation always stuck around to make him pissy whenever he discovered another him. It would be frustrating to Vic if he didn’t himself get a good time at watching the two Chucks get hard as they argued.
“I think I should stick around at least for the night” the clone Chuck argued. He definitely was planning to try and switch places with the “original” Chuck.
“Yeah like that’s gonna work”, the “original” argued back, knowing the strategy because he’d used it himself. “I’m gonna take a fucking shower, I don’t want to feel gross and continue this bullshit”
“Yeah well I wanted to take one too”
“It doesn’t matter if you want one, that would be wasting water. It’s not like you’re going to be around for much longer”
They both sprinted to the shower. Vic had seen it before, they’d inevitably go in together. Chuck was competitive like that and both would competitively get each other off. Vic couldn’t understand how Chuck convinced himself that he didn’t enjoy this.
Vic called his bros as the two audibly fought in the shower. They didn’t pick up, the call going to voice message at the sound of both of his older brothers’ pre-recorded message about calling again. He wondered how his brother stayed so invested in keeping another him around. Vic had done it a couple times as a freshman in college, but it had been only interesting for a bit.
He couldn’t keep it exciting like Chuck seemed to be able to. He could hear them audibly fucking in there, arguing with each other about being quiet. He was glad they were bad at that part, rubbing his own dick as he listened to them.
It was times like this that he fantasized about just keeping the two of them. Rich was great but he could always just turn another guy into Rich. Rich probably wouldn’t care, considering the man loved Chuck. There were a couple dicks at the gym that Vic could imagine would make a good Rich. Maybe even Rich(s) plural. Maybe Rich spending time alone with himself would fix his stupid masculinity crisis.
He was almost at completion at that idea when the two Chucks came stumbling out of the shower, fighting over the single towel. He glanced over at their wet brown hair, the two actually towelling each other off even as they still played at not enjoying it.
He focused again on the tv as they got dressed.
As he expected, moments later they were out again. Both were dressed in nearly identical clothes, both wearing comfortable tank tops and joggers. He turned his brain back into their bickering.
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“You’re not even the original”
“I’m pretty sure I’m the original”
“I was the one who went to fucking work today, you’re Rich”
“Do you have any proof? Vic just turn him back”
“Eh pass” Vic said, pretending not to care. “Might just turn you both to Rich if y’all don’t feel like actually giving me proof”
The Chucks balked at that. Unconsciously as they both turned on him and not each other, one of the Chuck’s wrapped his arm around the other in solidarity.
“I have work tomorrow, you can’t do that”
“Yeah you can’t do that to us!”
“Again buds, not seeing any proof that you deserve to stick around” Vic said with a mocking threat. It wasn’t a real threat that he’d turn them into Rich. He’d quite decided on keeping the two around. At least until they all got bored of it at least. “need some convincing”
The two Chucks glanced at each other before fighting as they both fell on the couch. This was when the actual fun began. Vic gestured at his cock and the two pushed at each other, taking “turns” sucking him off. Vic sat there taking it in before pushing them off when he wanted a turn, reaching under both of their pants to grip their cocks. Having the two completely at his mercy as they collapse under his rough touch.
It went on like that for what was probably an hour. Vic would push them at each other and in their lust they would fuck as he watched. He made one of them watch as he held the other down, threatening to transfigure him if he couldn’t take it. The whole time the other Chuck taunting his double as he demanded Vic to change him mid fucking.
This was their routine, this weird edge of an identity crisis and an orgasm. Brought back Vic’s memories of the past months, repeating variations of this same scenario over and over in the bedroom. Making Vic fall deeper and deeper in love with this crazy man who revelled in Vic’s twisted little power.
Vic felt so good as they were slumped there, relaxed in the aftermath of it all. The two Chucks on top of each other, having fallen asleep in near perfect synchrony. They’d wake up tomorrow to see he hadn’t changed one of them back into Rich. There would be a whole lot of fun from that. He was so spent but even his dick couldn’t help weakly hardening at the idea of the two of the Chucks doing their morning runs together.
He was definitely gonna have to go to the gym to get another Rich. He couldn’t imagine ruining this shit when it was proving to be such a good idea.
Part 2:
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total-drama-brainrot · 2 months
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Total Drama AU/Headcanon: Where everything is the same, except Noah is just as crazy/insane as Izzy and Eva, but he's much better at hiding it (with a sarcastic calm personality) ... Only Izzy, Eva and Owen know his true unhinged colors (and that's why they get along with him so well) .../// Duncan briefly saw it during the Total Drama Island Special Finale, when Duncan grabbed Noah's leg, but Noah escaped, and we didn't see HOW Noah escaped... In this AU, Noah bit Duncan's hand then gave Duncan a silent psychotic grin, which shocked Duncan and gave Noah time to escape (Noah basically pretending the bite and grin never happened) ... In TDWT, imagine if Alejandro ever found out that the sanest one on his Team is only PRETENDING to be sane! 😅
I've seen that one Scary!Noah AU floating about in the main tag lately, and I love the concept. There's so much that could be done with having someone like Noah (scarily smart, mostly motivated by either spite or The Bit, nerfed by his own laziness/apathy/hubris) have the added bonus of Going Apeshit sometimes. Either as a treat to himself, or as the natural consequence of his hidden nature.
It's like that "Izzy Isn't Crazy" theory, but in reverse. "Noah Is Crazy, He's Just Good At Masking".
In this AU, he and Izzy would get on like a house on fire.
Like recognises like, after all; Izzy would clock him as just as unhinged as herself at their first meeting, and probably confront him about his 'game plan' at the first chance she could (maybe that's why she was so quick to swap with Katie? A bid to get herself on the same team as Noah?). Noah would try to deny it at first, because he's supposed to be the 'lazy genius'- slipping from his allotted persona this soon into the competition would jeopardise his strategy!- but Izzy would reassure him that she can practically smell the crazy on him.
He'd live up to his title as 'The Schemer', by means of plotting pranks and other such events with Izzy. She'd use her status as the overt crazy girl to pull them off, and Noah would either help behind the scenes to abate his hunger for chaos, or live vicariously through Izzy's blatant mania whilst revelling in the fact that their plan(s) play out perfectly every time. Imagine how much better Izzy's bear suit prank would've been with a man on the inside- and now imagine how much better it would've been if Noah pretended to get eaten/mauled by bear!Izzy (using smuggled ketchup packets and A Lot Of Screaming to convince the Gophers of his demise)! (He'd play off the incident by blaming the whole thing on Izzy- saying she was the one who used the ketchup, and his screaming was just him being Rightfully Terrified of being eaten. Gotta keep up the charade!)
No one would suspect him either! Who would ever assume that slothful, apathetic Noah who complains about the trials and tribulations of 'hard work', 'effort' and 'physical activity' could be a friend and an accomplice to the unstoppable force of nature that is Izzy? He's always too busy shoving his nose into his book to ever consider befriending the crazy girl, there's no way Noah would even tolerate her! (/s)
I think he'd eventually reveal his true colours to Team E-scope plus Owen once their friendship is cemented off-screen. Noah isn't the trusting type (I'd clarify, but I'd end up writing a whole unrelated essay- maybe another time) and he's habitually secretive- his non-answers in the WT Character Interview and his Sierra-given title of "The Man of Mystery" attest to this- so he'd need to know that his friends are really his friends before letting himself be vulnerable/transparent with them, since any 'friendships' made on Total Drama always run the risk of being a ploy/fake. It is a social game, after all.
As for the Duncan Incident. Having Noah bite people is going to turn into a running gag for me at this point, because it's so fucking hilarious to imagine him in a scenario where he's forced/pressured into violence and immediately starts chomping down on someone. This weasel boy wasn't built for punches and kicks but On God can he use those pearly whites to cause some damage. (The human jaw has a surprisingly strong bite force. Noah absolutely knows this.)
I'd also like to suggest that Noah rips himself out of his cargo shorts after biting Duncan, leaving the punk with a bleeding handful of nerd shorts and an open wound for his troubles. He'd already let go of Noah by that point too; it's hard to maintain your grip on anything when you've got a manic bookworm tearing away at the tendons in your hands. So he's just sat there, terrified and concerned, nursing the throbbing, sluggishly bleeding bitemark on his hand and wondering how Noah managed to contort his usually stoic facial features into a grin so wild and feral.
And Noah races back to Izzy and Eva, face and teeth splattered in Duncan's blood, sans cargo shorts. Neither of them question it; Izzy has an idea of what he's done, since Noah's smugness levels have risen at least three tiers and he's smiling almost contentedly to himself, and Eva has learned how to Mind Her Own Business when it comes to Izzy and Noah's eccentricities (though she often shoots inquisitive looks towards Noah's red-painted face).
Then in World Tour? Alejandro is suffering. Noah's the only person on his team who isn't lacking braincells and/or completely unhinged (or so he thinks), and as such he's the latino's only lifeline to sanity on the forsaken jet. So when Duncan returns in London and seems scared of the harmless bookworm? That's concerning.
Assuming that Noah's a wee bit more savvy in this AU thanks to his subterfuge experience in Island, he probably wouldn't be as outwardly apparent in his distrust of Alejandro during the challenge- either that, or he'd be enjoying torturing Tyler too much to think about how much of an eel Alejandro is. So Alejandro wouldn't have any reason to want to eliminate him, if anything he'd be motivated to keep him around, if only to act as a buffer between himself and the idiocy of Team Chris.
Duncan's re-introduction and allocation to the team would be Alejandro's first inkling into the fact that Noah is more than he seems. When the delinquent is ushered to stand next to Alejandro and Noah, his pupils contract into pinpricks or terror, and his attention flickers between the aloof cynic to his side and an oval-shaped scar on his hand. The cynic shoots Duncan a friendly smile (Alejandro ignores how the smile doesn't quite reach Noah's eyes) and the punk turns sheet white.
Alejandro doesn't know what to make of it.
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Finding Comfort in Autumn (M) ~Changbin
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Pairing: Werewolf!Changbin x Werewolf!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Fluff | Smut | Angst | Slow Burn | Rivals? to Lovers | Roomies to Lovers Warnings: unconventional a/b/o dynamics · mentions of abuse (unrelated to Changbin) · self-loathing · graphic depictions of intercourse (warnings under the cut) · pet names (puppy/pup) Word Count: ~16k | AO3 Summary: Changbin was an alpha. He had always been an alpha, but he had a secret. A secret he had only ever shared with the alpha of his pack, a secret he had kept buried as deep within him as he could, a secret he had decided to ignore, until the presence of that annoying omega coworker of his wouldn’t let him ignore it anymore.
Author’s Note: again, where did all these words come from? anyway, i wanted to explore a different type of a/b/o dynamic, and this is what came out of it, if you’re reading this, hope you enjoy it, and if you did, don’t hesitate to leave your thoughts~ [This story takes place within the It’s Cold Out universe, meaning it’s part of my WereRoomies series].
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of.
Smut Warnings: oral (F.Rec) · mutual masturbation · protected penetration (piv) [it’s all pretty vanilla, oops]
Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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Changbin had always known he was an alpha, just as did his parents. He displayed alpha traits since he was very young; he was opinionated, liked to assert dominance among his peers, and got incredibly upset when people touched his toys, so when puberty hit him, and his true scent started to ooze off of him, it was no surprise to anyone that his scent was that of an alpha. His parents were ecstatic as soon as their suspicions were confirmed, immediately gushing on and on about the possibility of their son ever leading a pack.
The moment his alpha status started to be recognised in his teenage years, something had changed in Changbin, and not for the better. He became more aggressive, he’d snap at people over the smallest things, and he’d get himself in physical altercations just out of the pure anger he felt coursing through his veins.
There weren’t that many werewolves in his school, humans obviously didn’t know about their existence, but every werewolf knew of the other, and even though each one tried to keep to themselves or to their own small groups from the same pack, Changbin seeked them. He seeked conflict often, almost as if he was trying to prove something.
If there was another alpha he’d try to fight them, if there were any betas or omegas he’d intimidate them into submission, using his alpha voice or his predator stare. Hell, he would even try to intimidate humans, too. He loved seeing them cower from him, seeing them avert their gaze when he used his predator stare–or at least, he used to think he loved it.
There was always that one person, though. That one person at school that never cowered, that, if anything, stared back at him, defied him. You, a werewolf from a different pack. Changbin could still remember the very first time you stood up to him, he had pushed one of your friends out of the way, rather violently, making them stumble to the ground as he snickered.
You, completely furious, stood right in front of him, pushing on his chest with force. “Stop being a fucking jerk!”
Changbin was stunned for a few seconds, only enough to get a whiff of your scent, a mix of nutmeg and ginger, and, to his absolute shock, the scent of an omega. His stunned expression quickly changed, staring you down as his alpha voice came out even before he could register it. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
He saw the moment his tone reached your ears, the moment your stare faltered just slightly, but you didn’t avert your eyes, nor did you back out. “I said, stop being a fucking jerk. Are your ears not working? Fuck right off, leave us alone”.
Oh, Changbin was seething, how could an omega dare talk back to him? And stare him right in the eyes as they did at that? He couldn’t help but let out an incredulous, sarcastic laugh. “And what’s the puppy gonna do about it, huh?!”
“This puppy’s gonna tear your balls off your body and make you eat them if you continue to torment us like this”.
Before Changbin could retaliate, before he could even attempt to make you submit, a call of your name finally made you look away from him, turning instead to the man calling for you. Your gaze shifted then, finally recoiling and turning your eyes to the floor as the man came to stand next to you, eyeing Changbin up and down. “Is there a problem here?”
Hyunwoo, another alpha werewolf at school, a handful of years older than Changbin, his confident demeanour coupled with his strong scent startled Changbin, but he answered him regardless, gritting his teeth slightly. “Not at all”.
The man looked around them for a second, and then stepped into Changbin’s space, flooding Changbin’s senses with his alpha scent and staring him down. “Thought so”, taking a hold of Changbin’s upper arm, gripping him tightly, he tugged him closer, enough for Hyunwoo to whisper in his ear. “Don’t you fucking dare come close to my omega, understood?”
Changbin gulped the saliva that had collected in his mouth, eyeing you for a second until he nodded, so Hyunwoo finally let go of his arm without saying another word. He turned to you instead, taking your wrist and tugging you away, and Changbin could’ve sworn he heard him muster a ‘you and I are gonna talk once we’re back at the den…’ as you two left.
Back then, that encounter had left Changbin so shaken, so utterly out of his element he kept to himself the rest of the day. Confused by the entire thing, by the omega that stared back at him, and the alpha that managed to shut him up. But his behaviour didn’t particularly change after that, he decided to move on and pretend it never happened at all.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later, that Changbin finally had his wake up call.
“C’mon, this needs to stop. You can’t keep hurting yourself like this, what the fuck’s gotten into you?” Chris had told him one day as they sat at the nurse’s office in their school. Changbin had gotten himself in a fight with a guy from another class, over what exactly Changbin couldn’t even remember. He could only remember his fist hitting the guy’s jaw and the other hitting back, leaving him with a split lip and a bruised eye.
“What’s gotten into me?” Changbin had lounged at Chris back then, too, grabbing him by the collar of his uniform and pulling him close to him. “I’m an alpha, am I not? This is who I fucking am! This is who I’m supposed to be!”
“This is not who you’re supposed to be!” Chris tugged on Changbin’s wrists, effectively getting his hands off of him so he could push on his chest, removing Changbin from his space. “I’m an alpha, too, remember? This has nothing to do with your fucking designation”.
Chris was a couple of years older than Changbin, and even if they were not in the same year at school, they belonged to the same pack, so they had been friends for a long time. Much like it happened with Changbin, no one was surprised when Chris’ alpha designation presented itself once puberty hit him. However, he had reacted completely differently than Changbin had when he found out.
Chris seemed to always be so sure of himself,so sure of his place in the pack. As if he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted to do, which always puzzled Changbin. How could Chris feel that way, when he was struggling so much?
“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?!” Changbin had snapped that day, but not in the way he had been snapping at people for the past few months. This time, his words came out as a desperate sob, tears quickly welling in his eyes as he brought his fists to press on his eye sockets, shamefully hiding from his friend. “What the hell am I supposed to do, then?”
Changbin could still remember that day vividly. How Chris had tentatively wrapped his arms around him, holding him as he cried. It was the first time he had shown vulnerability, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of how much his face hurt from where he had been hit, or if it was Chris’ general comforting aura that caused it, but he broke down right there in the nurse’s office.
“I don’t know what to do… I don’t know who I am, this all feels so wrong”, Changbin had admitted back then as he sobbed against Chris’ chest.  
“We can… We can figure it out together, but stop hurting yourself like this, and stop hurting others too, please…” Chris had pleaded back then, and it wouldn’t be until much later that Changbin would realise how much those words of Chris’ had impacted him.
Changbin and Chris were both of the same designation, the same status, but somehow Changbin always felt as if he wasn’t even close to Chris’ level. This was something he felt whenever he was close to every other alpha he had ever met, he felt as if he wasn’t ‘alpha enough’, a conclusion he had reached after a long time spent doing a lot of introspection, helping him realise that his anger issues in his teenagehood rooted from just that, that struggle he felt within himself, something he was able to work on as he grew up.
By the time Changbin was close to finishing his last year in High School, he had already realised his wrong-doings, how fucked up everything he had done had been, so he spent his last year going to those he had hurt during his lowest time to deeply apologise for his behaviour, all with the support of Chris and Jisung–an omega werewolf they had met after he transferred schools a couple of years prior.
Some people had accepted Changbin’s apology, some even told him they barely even remembered any encounter they had had with him. But then, there was you. You, the omega from a different pack that somehow always managed to press his buttons in all the wrong ways. You, the omega with the nutmeg and ginger scent, masked almost completely by the earthy scent of that one alpha Hyunwoo. You, the only one in his class that continued to defy him time and time again, to get better scores, better ideas for assignments, the only one that tried to be better than him and say it to his face.
Changbin had to apologise to you, too. That was what Chris and Jisung had told him at least. After all, he did try to intimidate you with his predator stare the first time you properly interacted with one another. However, you had gotten on his nerves so many times throughout your school years in different ways completely unrelated to your… Supernatural condition he almost didn’t reach out to you.
‘Don’t do things in halves, dude. You’ve apologised to everyone else, you must apologise to her, too’, was all Chris told him when Changbin voiced how much he just didn’t want to do it. Eventually, though, he figured Chris was right, so he did approach you one day, just as you were shoving books from your locker into your bag.
“What do you want, Seo Changbin?” You slammed your locker closed and then started to walk away from him, making him sigh in annoyance and follow you.
“I want to–God, would you stop walking and look at me?” 
You stopped, and looked him right in the eyes. “Why? So you can use your predator stare on me?”
Changbin held your gaze for a few seconds, but then he dropped to look at your nose instead. “I wanted to… To apologise for… For trying to intimidate you all those years ago”.
You were clearly taken aback by the sudden apology, holding your bag a bit tighter. “Okay…?”
“Yeah, so… It was wrong of me to use my status like that, I shouldn’t have and I’m deeply sorry. I’ve learnt my lesson”, Changbin bent at the waist, regarding you with a short bow before he straightened himself again, turning his eyes back up to look at your face.
You were quiet for a moment, just looking at him, your mouth opening and closing a few times until you finally shook your head a bit, clearing your throat. “Apology accepted”.
Oddly enough, Changbin did feel relieved, almost as if the weight of his actions had finally lifted off of his shoulders.
“What I won’t forgive you for is copying my final project’s topic, though”, you added as you continued to walk, which made him scowl.
“I didn’t fucking copy your topic. If anything, you copied me!”
To which you simply scoffed and turned around the corner, finally leaving his sight.
You had accepted his apology back then, but your bickering didn’t stop. If anything, it kept up until the very last day of school, until you both graduated and moved on with your lives. Regardless, Changbin couldn’t undo what he had done, but he had finally owned up to it, and at the very least he did learn his lesson, something his friends commended him for.
As Changbin continued to mature and to work on himself, he finally came to another realisation. Everyone had been able to notice Changbin’s alpha traits when he was growing up, they were painfully obvious, so his other traits, those that he only displayed on occasion, or that he would unconsciously hide from other people, went unnoticed for years. Changbin was incredibly sensitive, he was, essentially, a softie. Something that didn’t usually comply with the image expected of an alpha. He had no real desire to lead a pack, or to lead in general.
Which is why, when Chris decided to start a pack of his own, Changbin was more than happy to follow him as his right hand. Changbin’s parents were not exactly thrilled by that decision, since they always had this inexplicable dream of him leading a pack–a thought so incredibly ludicrous to Changbin he couldn’t even laugh about it–but they supported him anyway, giving them a place to start their den for it to be soon filled with their friends.
However, Changbin had a secret. Even though Chris was his best friend since childhood, and they knew more of each other than probably any other person ever would, Changbin had never revealed his secret to Chris. It wasn’t until they moved to their den, until Chris had become Changbin’s pack alpha, that he finally shared his secret with Chris.
When Changbin was on his own, when he didn’t have to put up a façade, he yearned of being pampered, of being taken care of, something so not alpha-like he had kept it hidden so deep within him he almost couldn’t believe when the words came out of his mouth as he confessed it to Chris. Changbin had half expected Chris to laugh at him, to judge him–even though logically he knew Chris would never do something like that to him, not when he was being this serious about the topic discussed–but Chris had simply stared back at him, offering a ‘huh, interesting. Never thought an alpha could have omega urges, but I guess it doesn’t sound crazy either’.
Omega urges, as soon as those words left Chris’ mouth Changbin had recoiled, mostly out of reflex. But seeing no judgement in Chris’ eyes as he said it, Changbin started to realise that was exactly what it was. Changbin was an alpha. His scent was that of an alpha, and he behaved much like an alpha most of the time, but deep down, there was a bit of an omega in him, and the moment he understood that, he was finally able to accept himself–or at least, to cope with the fact, acceptance was probably something that would come in due time.
Even after he accepted that fact, though, he still kept it hidden, as his little secret that only he and the alpha of his pack knew. Changbin never really told his packmates either, nor did he ever tell any partner he had ever had–not that he had had that many, to be honest. Whenever he was in a relationship he behaved as an alpha, something that he thought he didn’t mind much, but as his relationships kept on failing and failing because something was never right, he realised it did matter. Yet, he never had the guts to fully show himself to anyone he was intimate with, turning instead to hookups and one night stands to fulfil his physical needs when necessary.
Eventually, though, that stopped, too, after the first scare he had. It was hard for a werewolf to get drunk, their metabolism was much faster than that of humans for alcohol in moderate amounts to do anything to them. Unless, of course, they consumed an ungodly amount of spirits crafted specifically for his kind in a very short period of time. Changbin couldn’t even remember how much he drank that day, but he did remember the fact that his judgement was completely clouded, enough to hook up with someone without protection of any kind, without knowing if the other person was clean or not, and the moment he woke up the next day he was scared shitless.
Thankfully–after a mild scolding–Chris and his roommate went with him to one of those pop-up clinics to get checked, both even testing themselves, too, giving him much needed emotional support, even when he finally came up clean after.
So Changbin decided then to stop seeking any physical relief altogether, turning instead to the gym to relieve stress and focusing on his job and any pack matters that they had to deal with, which were already enough of a task on their own. Chris’ pack grew quickly–maybe quicker than they had anticipated. At first, it was only the three of them, Chris, Changbin, and Jisung, but throughout their entire university studies more of their friends joined, finally forming a tight pack of eight.
At the very early stages of their pack, maintaining order was tough, with only Chris as their leader and Changbin as his right hand to organise the rest of them, until Minho joined them and quickly became Chris’ left hand. And eventually, Chris’ roommate came into the picture. A human. A human they had invited to live in their den by sheer chance, a human that, after finding out about their condition, after understanding the bond between pack members, had naturally fallen into the position of pack mum, even when she wasn’t even romantically involved with Chris in any way–although eventually she did get involved romantically with Chris, something that shocked absolutely no one in the pack, considering how painfully obvious Chris’ feelings were, how painfully obvious her feelings were…
Regardless, with the four of them as the foundation of their pack, it became easy to deal with pack matters. They could rely on one another without hesitation, so as the weight of their responsibilities distributed among the four of them, Changbin didn’t have to excessively worry about pack matters anymore. Which meant that most of his stress came from his job.
When Changbin had decided on a whim ages ago to study computer science he didn’t expect it to be difficult, and, to be honest, his journey through university wasn’t any more difficult than anyone else’s, so he was able to graduate within the expected time, with an added extra year to specialise in network engineering. The difficult aspect of his profession came when he actually started to work in the field. People who work in IT weren’t exactly liked within their companies. End users liked to complain about things they didn’t know about, and even when he politely explained in the simplest way he could why something wasn't as easy as they claimed it to be, they always said he simply didn’t want to help and called him names.
This was something Changbin had to deal with on the regular, which wasn’t usually a problem, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant to deal with. Funnily enough, though, there was no worse enemy to someone working in the IT department of a company than another person who was also working in the IT department. This was something Changbin came to understand during his many different jobs in many different companies, but it was especially true in the company he was working for right now.
Having your IT services in-house these days wasn’t a common occurrence, but this particular office wanted to keep things simple, to keep everything ‘within the family’, so around a year ago, Changbin was hired as their network engineer. He was excited for the job position, it’d pay well and the company wasn’t so bad. That excitement almost died on his first day on the job, when he was introduced to one of the IT coordinators of the building.
He had been called to a room for his first IT department meeting, and the second he stepped through the door of the meeting room he was hit with the scent of nutmeg and ginger, a scent he had not smelt in years, since high school, the scent that to this day he’d dream about sometimes–although he’d never say that outloud. And sure enough, the moment Changbin had followed the trail of the scent he was greeted with your surprised eyes looking back at him.
So when the meeting ended, Changbin had reached out to you. You had politely greeted him, introducing yourself as the IT coordinator and offered a ‘hopefully things go smoothly moving forward’. A long time had passed since you two had last seen each other, so surely things had changed, surely you could be amicable with one another.
How wrong he had been. 
You were still the same, only more mature–and more beautiful, but Changbin wouldn’t let himself admit that. You were still the same opinionated, bossy omega he had come to know in school, and as months went by, he realised you were one of those IT coordinators that liked to be on top of everything, sometimes too much, getting your nose in other people’s business, in his business.
The very next day you had come to Changbin with an absurd proposition, a way to better monitor the network in the building, Changbin couldn’t help but notice how your scent was again almost hidden under Hyunwoo’s earthy scent, a complete contrast to how it had been the day prior, but he decided to ignore it, focusing on the impossible idea you had suggested to him based on some end user complaints you had received.
And maybe it was the fact that Changbin was almost wired to bicker with you at this point, but at the time he couldn’t help but scoff, offering an admittedly condescending ‘that’s not gonna work’ that had you scoffing as well, effectively reigniting the rivalry that had started since the very first day you met. 
It went like this for a while, you offering ideas that Changbin would shut down, Changbin proposing changes that you would be against. However, sometimes, when you two did agree on some points, you were actually able to work on a project together pretty well, with minimal eventualities.
You wouldn’t interact with Changbin outside of work, though. And not because Changbin didn’t make any attempts. He had invited you for drinks a few times, to celebrate the success of a finished project–usually inviting other people as well–but you always declined, alleging you had things to do as soon as work was over. There were no other werewolves in the office, so no one really questioned it, but Changbin knew your ‘things to do’ were probably related to your pack.
One day the department decided to go together for drinks after work, and surprisingly, you accepted. Changbin and you had naturally drifted to each other to talk that night, after all, you did share your condition. And admittedly, when you were not being stubborn and overly questioning of his job, you were okay to talk with, nice, even. So Changbin thought that night would mark the end of your pseudo-feud.
You didn’t go to work the next couple of days after that, and Changbin thought nothing of it, until you came back the following week. There was something off about you that week, you’d talk and interact in meetings, dealing with agreements and disagreements with one another, but outside of those, it was almost as if you were avoiding him, and every week after that it was almost as if he could barely catch your scent at all, only getting whiffs of Hyunwoo whenever you passed by.
But Changbin never really thought too much about it, he figured you were just mad at him for the last few meetings you had had where there had been disagreements between the engineers and the project managers and IT coordinators, so he simply let it be, just as he always did. 
Until one day, he couldn’t just let it be anymore.
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Changbin was fond of rainy days like these, especially after a long day at work. He already had a plan in his mind for the evening, brew himself some tea, play a lighthearted movie on the huge-ass TV he just got for his living room, and ultimately become one with his sofa. It was the perfect plan, and he had been looking forward to this since the second he stepped out of the office that day.
The kettle whistled, letting him know his water was ready, so he went through the familiar motions of serving himself some tea. Whole milk, two sugars, exactly how Changbin loved it, he had even used his favourite cup with its matching plate–a basic white ensemble, but the shape and depth of it was just exquisite. With lazy steps, he took his perfect cup of tea to the coffee table, setting it on the coaster he always kept there for this purpose, and it was just as he was about to let his bum hit the heavenly cushions of his sofa that a loud, hurried knocking resonated throughout his flat.
Changbin’s right eye twitched, feeling annoyance build and build rapidly within him the more the person on the other side knocked. Who dared have the audacity of disturbing his peace? He had been so close to getting his perfect evening, all of that now just ruined, flushed down the toilet with those relentless knocks. So he made his way to the front door, completely fuming. Who would be on the other side of the door? Jeongin? Jisung? Felix? He could hardly register the scent when he was this mad.
“What the fu–” Changbin’s words died on his tongue, his annoyed frown quickly disappearing as his eyebrows shot up in surprise. Out of all the people he could’ve imagined would be standing behind that door, you were not the one he would’ve ever expected to see. Especially not in the state you were in.
Chewing your lip nervously you just looked at Changbin, your hand holding the strap of the rucksack you carried on your back so tightly your knuckles were turning white. Changbin blinked slightly, still shocked. “What are you… What are you doing here?”
“I…” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. The longer Changbin looked at you, the longer you stood there, he started to get whiffs of your scent, that scent he hadn’t smelt for weeks now, since it was usually hidden under your alpha’s scent. He was used to your scent, but right now, as you stood there, something didn’t feel quite right… It felt… Different, somehow. More distressed. “I didn’t know where else to go, to be honest…”
Changbin just stared at you. Were you… Were you shaking? You were soaking wet for sure, the rain certainly had done a number on you. The more he got that distressed scent, the more he looked at you shivering there at his doorstep, he just couldn’t help his alpha instincts from kicking in. Regardless of how much Changbin didn’t like you–because he didn’t like you, not even a little bit–he just couldn’t leave you right there when you looked so defeated. So he stepped to the side, signalling you to come in.
As soon as you stepped through the threshold he closed the door, leaving you taking your shoes off by the entrance as he made his way towards the bathroom to find a clean towel. When he returned to the living room you were just standing there, looking around, still shaking like a leaf and holding onto your rucksack for dear life. 
“You can just leave that anywhere”, Changbin pointed to your rucksack, and you just dropped it on the floor right there where you were standing. “Here”, handing you the towel, he took the rucksack and put it next to a dining chair so neither of you would trip on it.
Changbin had seen you in so many different moods throughout the years. Playful, teasing, fuming, annoyed… But this… Whatever it was, was something that completely caught him off guard, so much so he couldn’t stop looking at you as you tried your best to squeeze water out of your hair. 
“What are you doing here?” He asked again, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at you.
You took a deep breath, wrapping the towel over your shoulders and keeping it close to your body. “Do you mind if I… If I sit?” you pointed towards one of the stools by the kitchen island, to what Changbin simply nodded, his eyes following your every move.
“Changbin, could you… Not look at me? You’re close to using the predator stare and it’s not making it any easier for me to talk”, was he using the predator stare? Changbin hadn’t even realised, it was probably because he was angry when he opened the door, which he immediately explained to you and apologised for, to which you simply nodded. He cleared his throat, looking away from you then, and going into the kitchen, switching the kettle on again. 
After a few moments of silence you spoke again. “I… I ran away from my pack”.
Changbin almost dropped the cup in his hand, his eyes going wide in surprise, almost bulging out of his skull. “You did what?!”
Swallowing thickly, and contradicting your earlier request, you seeked his gaze. “I ran away from my pack–”
“I heard you, okay… Shit, why would you do that and why are you here?”
“I told you! I didn’t know where else to go!” You were still trembling slightly, still holding onto the corners of the towel wrapped around your shoulders, but even then you still spoke to him in that tone of yours that sometimes made his eye twitch. “I don’t know any other werewolf outside the pack and I know it’s nuts that I’m here, okay? I’m aware…” Bringing your hands to your face, you inhaled deeply only to exhale right after. Once, twice, thrice… Were you… Were you trying to calm yourself down?
“Listen, I…” Once you removed your hands from your face you looked at him, right in the eyes. “I left because I was being mistreated, okay? It’s… I’ve been abused for years and I… I couldn’t stand it anymore”.
Changbin recoiled slightly, this was a turn of events he would’ve never expected, and he immediately felt concern flooding him. “I’m… I’m sorry, I had no idea–”
“Of course you had no idea!” You spat, and Changbin’s eyes went wide, stunned as he saw tears well in your eyes. “No one knows… No one knows how Hyunwoo runs his pack, no one dares speak about it so of course… Of course you don’t know”.
Curse his alpha instincts, Changbin just couldn’t bear seeing the tears run down your eyes, he couldn’t bear smelling the distress in your scent, so he moved around the kitchen island, reaching for you. “Listen–” To his horror, you flinched as soon as his hands were on you, so he removed them immediately.
“Please, don’t touch me right now…” There was a sob, there was a sob and it broke him. Suddenly whichever pseudo-feud Changbin had with you didn’t matter, this was serious shit.
“I’m sorry”, was all he could say, whether it was for approaching you so suddenly or because of your situation, Changbin wasn’t too sure.
You simply shook your head, bringing your hands to your face once again and you continued to sob. “I don’t know what to do…” Your voice was barely a whisper, but Changbin could hear you, and the feelings your distress evoked in him were not pleasant at all. 
“You… Listen, first, you need to warm up…” Changbin moved, reaching for the already boiled water and serving you a cup of tea. “You can… You can cry all you want. If it helps you, cry”.
And you did. You cried a lot. For a while, actually. And Changbin didn’t know what to do. He just sat there next to you on the kitchen island, moving either to bring you a dry towel or to leave a glass of water next to you. His mind was racing as he waited for you to calm down, he really didn’t know much about Hyunwoo’s pack, just that he became the alpha right before you finished school and that you were a member of the pack, but just by the way you flinched when Changbin tried to touch you, it was clear something messed up was happening in there.
Once you managed to stop crying, you reached for that glass of water, dawned it in one go and took a hold of the corner of the towel to ungracefully blow your nose. “This is so messy, I’m sorry”.
“It’s… It’s fine”, and as Changbin said it, he realised it was. You guys didn’t get along, at least not frequently, but this was a much bigger issue than that. “Do you even have a place to stay?”
You shook your head. “I just… Left. I put anything of value in that rucksack and left. I don’t want to get too into detail right now, to be honest, but I had to leave today or it would’ve been over for me”.
Changbin nodded, understanding. He had to make a decision now. You had nowhere else to go, and he couldn’t just leave you on the streets on your own to deal with the distress of leaving your pack and dealing with your abuse at the same time. So he took a deep breath, dragging his hands over his face briefly only to look at you after. “Listen, I gotta talk to Chris–You remember Chris, right?” You nodded, so he continued. “For now you can just… Take a warm shower, change into some dry clothes and we can talk when I’m back. Do you even have clothes in that rucksack?”
“Yeah, just a few shirts and trousers… I couldn’t… Most of my clothes were scented so I decided not to take them”, ah, so Hyunwoo was purposefully scenting your clothes, no wonder Changbin could smell him on you all the time.
“Alright. The bathroom is that way, first door on the left. I’ll be back in a bit”, and then, as an attempt to lift the mood, he added, “don’t steal anything from me while I’m gone”.
To which you simply huffed a chuckle, wiping the tears on your face.
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The further away Changbin walked from his flat the more he felt his mind spiralling out of control. What the fuck was he going to do with you? It was all nuts, so by the time he reached Chris’ flat he was almost in full panic mode.
Changbin started to knock on Chris’ door, very fervently and incessantly. A few moments of this passed, until the door opened slightly, enough for Chris to peek his face and look at him, annoyance very clear in his face. “We’re fucking, what do you want?”
Of course they were fucking, when were Chris and his girlfriend not fucking. “Sorry, man, but I really need to talk”.
“Can’t it wait like… Two hours?”
“Two hours?!” Changbin shrieked. “No it cannot wait two fucking hours! It’s really urgent!”
Chris sighed, turning his gaze away from Changbin and into his flat, to look at his girlfriend, Changbin supposed. After a few seconds, he turned back to Changbin. “Fine, give me a few minutes”, was the last thing Chris told him before closing the door, leaving Changbin waiting there in the corridor as he chewed his lip nervously.
When Chris opened the door again, he was wearing nothing but his shorts–admittedly not an uncommon sight, so Changbin was completely unfazed by this. “What’s going on?” Chris asked as he made his way into the kitchen and started to put away some items that were scattered on the counter.
Changbin tried his best to ignore the scent of sex and the lingering pheromones in the air, but it was too strong and distracting to ignore. “Dude, were you guys fucking right here?” 
“On the sofa”, Chris shrugged, like it was nothing.
“We sit on that sofa for movie nights, Christopher…”
“And?” Chris snorted. “Didn’t take you for a prude, Changbinnie. Plus, there’s nowhere on this flat we haven’t fucked on”, he slammed his hand on the kitchen counter for emphasis. “Nowhere”, Changbin looked at the counter and immediately removed his hands, making an act to gag, to which Chris simply chuckled. “But anyway, what do you need to talk about?”
“I, uh… Need your advice…” Chris shot Changbin a look, his eyes scanning his face for a moment only to go back to his task and gesture for him to continue. “You remember that girl from work? The one I talk about sometimes?” Changbin moved to sit on one of the stools.
“The omega that drives you absolutely insane? That went to school with us? Yeah, I remember”.
“She came to my door twenty minutes ago… She ran away from her pack”.
Chris froze on the spot, a bag of mini brownies crunching slightly in his hold as his fist tightened, his eyes snapping up to meet Changbin’s, wide in surprise. “Why’d she… Why did she come to you?” He placed the bag back on the counter, moving around to pull out one of the stools and sitting in front of Changbin, giving him his undivided attention.
Changbin simply shrugged. “She said I’m the only other werewolf she knows outside of her pack, but I… I’m not sure what to do. She has nowhere else to go…”
Chris’ fingers drummed on the counter as he pondered. “You want her to stay here?”
Changbin shrugged. “I guess, I don’t know… Is there any other option?”
Chris eyed him for a bit. “Is she a good person? I haven’t seen her since school”.
Were you? Were you a good person? Changbin was used to bickering and getting into petty arguments with you, you got on his nerves more than he would like to admit. However… When you weren’t addressing him, Changbin had seen the other side of you, the friendly, and supportive side of you. And, admittedly, when you two were able to work without arguments, he had experienced that directly, too.
“I think… She might be. We argue all the time, but to other people she’s… Fine, I guess…”
“Who’s fine?” Chris’ girlfriend appeared from the hall, using a towel to squeeze water out of her hair.
“Changbin’s brought in a guest”, Chris’ eyes followed her, just like they always did and Changbin couldn’t help but roll his eyes and smile fondly at the sight.
“Oh? A guest guest? You want someone to stay?” She regarded Changbin with a smile, busying herself with the rest of the items left on the counter, putting them away into their designated place in the kitchen.
“She’s a fri–” A what? A friend? You and Changbin were certainly not friends, so he corrected himself immediately. “A coworker…”
Changbin filled Chris’ girlfriend in with the details, by the time he was done she was standing in front of where Chris sat, slotted between his legs, as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him, resting his chin on her shoulder. 
“Basically what I’m trying to say is, do you think it’s a good idea for her to stay?” Changbin asked, fidgeting with a random twist tie he found on the kitchen counter. 
Chris eyed him for a moment, until he finally spoke again. “You do know this is your building, right?” A smirk crept onto his lips as he looked at Changbin, and it made him let out an exasperated sigh. 
“Correction, it’s my parents’ building, and you’re our alpha for crying out loud, you should have the last word on who stays in the den or not”.
“Are you hoping I’ll say no?” The question was pointed, and it almost made Changbin wince.
Changbin stayed silent for a moment, only to finally move his eyes from Chris to his girlfriend. “What do you think?”
She simply shrugged, her hands absentmindedly caressing Chris’ arms around her waist. “No werewolf leaves their pack just like that, right? From what I’ve read and what you’ve told me it’s a hard thing to do, even physically painful… If she’s done that, something serious must’ve happened… I don’t see why she shouldn’t stay, at least for tonight. We could meet her tomorrow once she’s rested and you two can reach an agreement then”, with her last sentence, she pointed to Chris and Changbin.
“I agree. Unless you don’t want me to even consider it at all. Then I’ll just say no”, Chris gave Changbin a look. He always wanted what was best for his packmates, and that sometimes meant making them make their own decisions and supporting said decisions. Which sucked for Changbin, because now he truly had to make a decision.
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After his talk with Chris and his girlfriend, Changbin went back to his flat to find you already showered and in dry clothes sitting on his sofa, hugging your legs to your chest. Your face snapped in his direction as soon as he was in your field of vision, and Changbin literally saw the exact second your body tensed up when he started to walk in your direction, hugging your legs tighter against your chest.
Dropping himself on the other end of the sofa, Changbin simply switched on the TV, he figured some background noise would help the awkward aura that had settled in the living room. So, he took a deep breath–trying his best to ignore the way your scent almost shocked his senses–and looked at you. “You can stay here tonight, but tomorrow you’ll have to talk with Chris directly. He wants to meet you in person before he decides if you can stay or not”.
You looked at him, blinking slightly, looking almost shocked. “What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’?”
“You’re… You’re offering me shelter?” You sounded truly incredulous, which in turn made him feel confused.
“Why are you here if not for shelter?”
You just continued to look at him, your eyes jumping around his face for a bit, until finally, you swallowed. “I… I didn’t… Changbin, I truly have no idea what I’m doing here. I just… Started walking, and next thing I knew I was here. I feel so numb right now, I don’t even know what’s going on”.
Changbin figured you could be in shock, so he decided to make the decision for you. “Okay… Let’s do this, you can stay here tonight, rest, get your bearings, and we can talk more about it tomorrow, okay?”
You just stared at him for a bit, until Changbin saw tears well in your eyes, but only for a second, as you brought your hands to your face right after. “Okay…” Your voice was barely a whisper, but Changbin heard you. There was a shift in your scent, it wasn’t exactly distress as before, but it wasn’t entirely pleasant either, more like a tint of defeat and hurt.
Shifting a bit in his seat, Changbin couldn’t help the words that came out of his mouth after. “Do you… Do you want a hug?”
You were silent for a bit, just crying as you shielded your face with your hands. Changbin thought for a moment you might’ve not heard him, until you finally nodded, with the tiniest ‘yes…’ falling from your lips. So Changbin moved as slowly and carefully as he could to not startle you, moving to sit next to you and pull you into his arms, tucking your head in the crook of his neck.
You were slightly trembling, but you let him pull you to him, and to Changbin’s surprise, one of your hands moved away from your face to clutch his shirt as you continued to cry.
The third re-run of The Mummy that week playing on the TV and the pitter-patter of rain against the windows were the only background noises in the flat, mingling with the occasional hiccup or sob leaving your lips. And Changbin couldn’t help but try to make it better somehow. “Shh… It’s okay. You’ll be okay, pup”.
Changbin hugged you for as long as you needed, the occasional word of encouragement leaving his lips, and eventually, you simply fell asleep right then and there in his arms.
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“Hey! Nice to meet you!” Hyunjin had a bright smile on his face as he opened the door of Chris’ flat once Changbin knocked on it.
The night before, after you fell asleep and Changbin tucked you into bed in his spare room, he had quickly texted Chris about your kind of shocked state and for him to expect some odd behaviours from you when he met you, to which Chris suggested that maybe having another omega in the house at the time along with his girlfriend could help. So here Hyunjin was, with a showercap on his head and his apple and pear scent mingling with the unpleasant smell of hair bleach radiating from the showercap.
“Come on in, we’re having a selfcare day”, Hyunjin signalled you and Changbin to come in just as he stepped further into the flat, leaving you two by the open door.
You shot Changbin a look, lightly worrying your lip with your teeth, to which he simply gave you a brief pat on the shoulder and a nod. Selfcare days weren’t an uncommon practice, they usually happened in Hyunjin and Felix’s flat, but Changbin figured Chris thought it would be a good idea to settle a more relaxed aura around him, in hopes of easing your nerves a bit.
“Pretty, stop moving so much”, Chris’ giggling voice could be heard as soon as Changbin and you stepped through the door, and once Changbin stole a glance your way he could see your eyes go wide in surprise as you saw the alpha of his pack right there, sitting on his sofa with his girlfriend’s hand in one hand and a brush on the other as he tried to paint her nails.
“You’re taking too long, baby!” Chris’ girlfriend was holding the bottle of nail varnish for Chris to keep dipping the brush into, smiling fondly at the man in front of her as he did his absolute best to not make a mess of her hands.
“Selfcare day and you didn’t explicitly invite me? I’m hurt”, Changbin couldn’t help but joke, clutching his chest dramatically as he walked further into the living room. Chris simply huffed a ‘you were coming anyway’ before he greeted you with a big smile on his face, one of his genuine smiles that made his eyes disappear. Chris was already an overall welcoming person, but when he smiled like this, that feeling heightened tenfold, and Changbin immediately felt you relax a bit where you were standing next to him.
Changbin introduced you to Chris’ girlfriend as well, and in no time all of you were sitting around their coffee table as Hyunjin brought tea from the kitchen.
“You’ve grown so much”, Changbin was surprised when those words left your mouth as you addressed Chris, the comment making him laugh immediately, offering a ‘so have you!’ in response.
It was all smooth sailing from there. You seemed to quickly realise that the dynamic of Changbin’s pack was completely different from whatever dynamic your former pack had, so you loosened up a bit, and Changbin could practically smell how much less stressed you were, which was reassuring in a way–although why he had to feel reassured about that in the first place was beyond him.
Chris asked you for a few details, you simply answered the same way you had to Changbin the day before, that you were being mistreated but didn’t want to get too much into detail because, in your words, ‘I honestly just don’t want to start weeping as soon as the words leave my mouth… Need to… Digest it all first’, which Chris seemed to wholeheartedly understand. 
Chris shot Changbin a look, almost as if he wanted to ask him ‘are you sure you don’t want me to say no?’ to which Changbin gave him a minute nod of his head. Something about having grown up together and lived together for so long made it easy for them to communicate wordlessly, and it became even easier after Changbin became Chris’ right hand in the pack, so, after taking a deep breath, Chris simply said, “you can stay here if you want”.
Your eyes went wide in surprise, but before you could say anything, Chris continued. “Although I must warn you, bills really are expensive as shit here. If you can afford it yourself, great. If you can’t, I suggest rooming with someone. I tried on my own, didn’t work. Now I’ve got a lovely roommate and girlfriend, though, so I guess I won anyway”, he reached to pinch one of his girlfriend’s cheeks as he said it, which made her laugh.
A smile formed on your face at the sight, it was small, but it was there and it might’ve been the reason why Changbin spoke his next words. “You can stay with me if you want. We can split the bills”.
You seemed to ponder for a bit, just as Hyunjin left the room to go wash his head with Chris’ girlfriend’s help. Finally, you just nodded. “I think that’s a good idea”.
“I think so, too”, Chris said confidently.
“Is there… Anything in particular I should be aware of regarding omegas in the pack?” 
Chris looked at you for a moment, blinking slightly. “I mean… No? We don’t… Honestly, our designation hardly ever influences anything here. If anything, the only rule is to treat everyone with respect, and help out when someone needs it… And we all chime in to pay the communal bills of the building, that’s pretty much it”.
You seemed slightly taken aback by that, a tiny ‘oh…’ leaving your lips as you readjusted yourself in your seat. There was one thing Chris forgot, though, so Changbin added it for him. “Also make sure you inform the group chat when you think you might be going into heat or when you do go into heat… There’s a couple of flats on this floor we use to, uh… Lock ourselves in for those days if we need to”.
“Oh, that, too”, Chris nodded. “Also, if it makes you feel more comfortable, you don’t necessarily need to think of us as your ‘new pack’. These things take time, yeah? So let’s see it as just childhood friends helping each other out, we’ll see how it goes in the future”.
“Sounds… Reasonable… Thank you. Truly”, and Changbin could really hear the thankfulness in your voice.
Just like that, you became Changbin’s roommate. A roommate he wasn’t even looking for, and that he didn’t even need, but as you both made it back to his flat, he realised he didn’t mind all that much.
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Changbin had been living on his own for so long he had forgotten how it was like to share his space with someone else. He was wary at first, because he wasn’t sure how you would be outside of your work or school persona, maybe you’d try to move things around to your liking, or maybe you’d be messy and loud and annoying. But the truth was, for the first few days of you being there, Changbin barely even saw you, which was kind of odd considering you decided to take a couple of weeks off of work to deal with your situation, so you definitely were in the house.
You mostly kept to your room, coming out only for food or to go to the bathroom, and whenever you did that when Changbin was there, he could always see the bags under your eyes and the redness from all the crying he supposed you had been doing. He could smell your scent, too, your usual nutmeg and ginger mingling with pure defeat, which, again, wasn’t pleasant at all. He truly hated that you were feeling defeated in the first place, and he truly wished he could make it better somehow.
Eventually, you started to come out more. Changbin would come home from work and find you on the sofa, curled up in a ball, wrapped in blankets with your eyes glued to the TV. There was always food on the stove, which you offered as soon as Changbin came through the door without removing your eyes from the big screen.
Those times, Changbin would simply sit down with you on the sofa, telling you stories about the office, whichever IT mess had been going on that day, essentially having an amicable conversation with you, something that, after a while, made Changbin wonder why you would get prickly with him in the first place before all this happened, so he asked exactly that one day.
“I…” You gulped, then took a sip of the tea in your hand. “I was doing it on purpose”.
Changbin looked at you, confused. “On purpose?”
“Mm”, you moved your eyes from his face back to the TV, tapping your fingers lightly on the mug in your hands. “You’re too friendly sometimes, and I couldn’t let you get too close to me or Hyunwoo would… I mean, he didn’t like it when I got close to other men, much less alpha males”.
You said that statement like it was normal, like you had accepted that to be your fate at the time, and it made Changbin’s blood boil right there where he sat. Suddenly, he remembered… “The night we went out for drinks… You didn’t come to work for a few days after, was it because… I had been talking to you?”
Looking down at the mug in your hands, you nodded with a grimace on your face. “He… Accused me of a lot of things that night. Things that were not true, obviously, and he made it a point to scent me as much as he could in… In ways I don’t even want to describe, honestly. Can we talk about something else?”
Changbin did drop the topic completely that day, but it plagued his mind for a long time. Sure, there was a level of possessiveness to their alpha nature, but it was never supposed to be like this. It was never supposed to overpower their protective nature, above all else, an alpha should take care of their partner both physically and emotionally, they should protect them, it was one of the few alpha traits Changbin was actually proud of having, and this man Hyunwoo had it all twisted and the fact that he had hurt you because of it angered him beyond belief.
Changbin did offer once–although mostly as a half-joke–to go beat him up, to which you simply said ‘If anything, I’ll try to get strong enough so I can beat him up. That’d be more satisfactory. But honestly, I’d much rather pretend he didn’t exist’, so Changbin tried to never speak about Hyunwoo again after that.
You eventually went back to work, got back into your routine, only now you wouldn’t avoid him at all, if anything, you remained somewhat close and friendly. Sure, you still defied his proposals when you had to, and Changbin defied yours when he had to, but it was mostly amicable, nowhere near as hostile as before.
You confessed to Changbin one day that you had even started to go to therapy to try and cope with everything, and he couldn’t help but commend you on taking such an important step in your healing process. 
Soon enough, you got acquainted with his friends, you started to join them for movie nights, for selfcare days, and eventually, before Changbin even realised it, you had flooded his life, with your presence, with your scent… Your scent… That mix of nutmeg and ginger, that mix that had become so familiar, so… Alluring, in a way. He’d be caught dead before admitting that to you, though, but that was certainly the best way he could put it. Alluring. Like freshly baked cookies, and he quickly realised he didn’t mind it one bit.
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Changbin was truly fond of rainy days like these, especially now that he had a companion to spend them with. At first, you both would only sit down on your corner of the sofa and watch some mindless film, sometimes you would play the occasional board game–although Changbin quickly discovered you got a bit too… Enthusiastic, to not say aggressive, so the board games were quickly removed from the routine. 
Gradually, though, you started to gravitate towards each other. Changbin wasn’t even sure how it happened, really. Sitting on your corner of the sofa became sitting closer to the centre, until eventually your shoulders started to touch, your thighs grazing against each other, providing some warmth during the colder days. One day, you had your arm tossed over the back of the sofa, almost, almost on Changbin’s shoulders… You were really engrossed in the series you were watching, Changbin wasn’t really paying much attention to it, he was just slouched on the plush cushions, scrolling on his phone and then suddenly, he felt it.
Your eyes were trained on the TV, and you were chewing your lip as a particularly stressful situation was happening in the show you were watching, so when your fingers found their way to Changbin’s hair, mindlessly playing with it, Changbin was more than startled by the sudden contact, but, at the same time, he realised he liked it, so he didn’t say anything, instead he just let himself enjoy your touch, your soft caresses against his scalp, and it wasn’t until the episode had finished that you realised what you were doing, quickly removing your hand from his head and mumbling apologies.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“I don’t mind”, Changbin interrupted you, the words left his mouth probably way too fast, heat quickly making its way to the back of his neck as he cleared his throat. “It’s fine, you can… You can do that. I really don’t mind”.
Changbin saw your slightly stunned expression, your eyes moving away from his face just the tiniest bit as the next episode of your show started to play. When you looked at him again, you gulped, blinking slightly. “Do you want to… I mean it’d be easier if you… You know, lay your head on my lap or… Yeah, otherwise my arm will get tired, you know?”
Changbin looked at you for a few bated breaths, until he tentatively complied, relishing the warmth of your thighs and your tender touch on his hair as you continued to watch the show. 
From then on, the space between Changbin and you on that sofa after work became nonexistent. Him laying his head on your lap quickly turned to him laying on your stomach, to him even laying on top of you sometimes, resting his head on your chest as you mindlessly massaged his scalp, his shoulders, his back, his arms. You never really spoke about it, it just sort of… Happened, and you both let it happen.
Changbin simply had convinced himself this was an entirely platonic exchange, just two acquaintances enjoying some warmth as you quietly wound down from your stressful day. Although he did know it was kind of weird, he was well aware. Cuddling with your coworker turned roommate this closely surely wasn’t normal, yet neither you nor him would stop it. Changbin wasn’t sure why you didn’t, as for himself, he just absolutely loved to cuddle… To cuddle with you.
He loved hearing your heart beating against his ear, he loved the feel of your hands on him, he loved the nutmeg and ginger of your scent flooding his senses, and it wasn’t until a few weeks after the entire thing started that he realised this could potentially hurt him deeply. It happened in an instant, just as you both laid on the sofa, him on top of you, your hand mindlessly caressing his nape, his face buried in the crook of your neck, and suddenly, he got an urge. Changbin wanted to place a kiss on your neck, he’d gotten so used to being this close to you without any restraint that he had almost done it, but he managed to stop himself.
Cuddling was one thing, kissing… Kissing felt like it could become too much, too quickly, so he buried that urge deep within him, pulling himself away from you entirely with the excuse of wanting to make dinner. You didn’t question him, of course. You never questioned any of Changbin’s actions when you were in this type of mood, so he thought he was in the clear. It had probably just been a fluke, something instinctual that would naturally happen when he was so close to your neck.
Oh, but he had been so wrong. That urge he tried to bury deep within his heart quickly grew legs, dancing all around the place as if it owned it, mocking him. Changbin wanted to have his lips on your skin, the thought quickly mingled into him wanting to have his hands on your skin, into him wanting to have your lips on his skin, and before he knew it, he was down bad and it was too late.
It wasn’t appropriate, was it? You were his coworker, his roommate, his friend, and it wasn’t appropriate to think about a friend that way, he was sure, especially considering the things you had been through–although you did tell him you were making progress with your therapy, good progress, which Changbin was really happy about, but that didn’t mean it made it okay. So Changbin tried his best to ignore it all, to pretend those urges and feelings weren’t there, indulging only in your cuddling, and only when you wanted it–because there was no way he could give that up now, not when you seemed to also enjoy it as much as he did.
Until one day, you didn’t let him ignore the elephant in the room anymore.
“Do you think it’s weird?” You suddenly asked, startling him slightly, your hand in his hair not stopping its movements.
Changbin tensed slightly, but he decided to play aloof. Afterall, he wasn’t really sure what you were truly referring to. “That what’s weird?”
“This”, you tugged on his hair gently, and Changbin had to use every single ounce of willpower to not make any obscene sounds. “The way we cuddle”.
‘The way we cuddle’, that was your answer. It wasn’t ‘that we cuddle’, but specifically the way you both cuddled. And Changbin couldn’t help but prop himself on his elbows to look at your face, making you move your hand away from his head. “In which way are we cuddling, pup?”
“Well, you know…” You gulped, and Changbin could’ve sworn you were looking at his mouth. “It’s mostly… Me kinda… Kinda doting on you. Not the other way around”.
Changbin blinked slightly, and he couldn’t help the feeling of dread that was starting to build within him. “Uh… Yeah. It’s you doting on me, yes”, Changbin gulped the saliva that collected in his mouth, nervousness suddenly flooding his brain.
“You’re an alpha”, there was no ill-intent in your voice, none at all, yet the words struck Changbin’s heart, and suddenly he couldn’t bear looking at your face anymore, feeling as heat quickly made its way to his face as he scrambled to remove himself from you entirely. He saw the alarm on your face, but honestly he could barely register it as he swiftly got to his feet and tried to get as far away from that sofa as possible.
“Bin? Why are you–”
He couldn’t have this conversation. He’d only truly ever had it with Chris, and he wasn’t sure he could have it with you right now. Changbin had indulged, and for a few months he had experienced something he had always craved, but just as he had expected, it couldn’t be as simple as that. You’re an alpha, you’re an alpha, you’re an alpha, the words repeated in his mind incessantly, making it hard for him to hear anything else other than them.
“Changbin, wait!”
Changbin slammed his bedroom door shut, pressing his back to it and bringing his hands to his head as he felt tears well in his eyes. Changbin was an alpha. It was wrong of him to crave these things. It was weird and wrong and unnatural, he was weird and wrong and unnatural.
There was a knock on his door, tentative, shy, almost. “I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you…” Oh, God. You sounded genuinely hurt, and he hated it. Why were you hurt? Why were you apologising? He was the fucked up one, and the second he got a whiff of your scent, even with the door that separated you two, he could just feel how distressed you were, and he realised then that you could probably also smell how distressed he was, which made everything just so much worse.
You stayed behind his door for a while, for a long while. All as Changbin let himself cry in silence out of the pure frustration he felt, until he eventually calmed down. By that point, though, you had already left, retreating to your room.
Changbin avoided you like the plague after that encounter, at home, at work, opting out of movie nights with the pack, he’d try his absolute best to not cross paths with you. Mostly out of shame, out of the sheer embarrassment he knew he would feel the moment you found out about his hidden flaw.
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Server rooms were always too loud. And if it was loud to a human, it was even worse for a werewolf. Changbin always felt as if he was trapped in a tin can with the most obnoxious cricket whenever he came down here to check the switches, but he couldn’t neglect his job just because of his supernatural capabilities, so here he was, tinkering with the damn thing to try and figure out why the network in the third floor was down.
He would like to blame that loudness in the room shocking his senses for the fact that he hadn’t noticed a person coming into the room. Changbin didn’t notice them, until suddenly he got a whiff of nutmeg and ginger and turned around with wide eyes to find you already staring at him, your brows furrowing in concern.
“You can’t keep avoiding me”, your tone was firm, stern, even. “We live together, we work together… We can’t continue playing cat and mouse, Changbin. I need you to tell me what I did wrong”.
Changbin looked you in the eyes, and you stared right back, just like you often did, just like you always did. Stuffing his hands in his pockets he heaved a sigh, averting his gaze to look instead at the flashing lights of the server behind you. “You didn’t do anything wrong, pup…”
“Then? Why are you avoiding me?” You took a step closer, trying to get his gaze back on your face, but Changbin didn’t move one bit.
“Because you are right. I’m weird”.
You were quiet for a moment. “I didn’t say you were weird?”
Changbin looked at you then, at the puzzled expression on your face. “Yes, you did”.
“No, I didn’t”, there was a frown on your face, and there was nothing more that Changbin wanted right now than to flatten it out. “I said… I asked if the way we were cuddling was weird. I asked if you thought it was weird. I never said you were weird”
“I mean…” Changbin gulped. “Do you think it’s weird?”
“I… Kinda do think the way we cuddle is weird, but not… Not in a bad way. I, uh… I like the way we cuddle, Bin”, you sounded so confident, so absolutely sure of it Changbin was slightly taken aback. 
“But I’m an alpha”, he didn’t mean to sound that incredulous, but it certainly came out that way, and you seemed to pick up on it.
“Yes, and I’m an omega”, you were stating the obvious, but you were also clearly trying to make a point. “An omega that… That has… Has always felt uncomfortable in her own skin”.
Changbin blinked slightly, confused. “You… What?”
Taking a deep breath, you dragged your hands over your face, returning your eyes to his right after. “You know why… You know what was my trigger to finally run away from Hyunwoo and his pack?”
You never told him, and he didn’t ask, so of course Changbin didn’t know, so he simply shook his head, and you took this as a sign to continue. “He… He wanted to mate, like, forever mate. He wanted me to submit fully to him by mating with him. He had coaxed me into submission for so many years, with his stupid predator stare and his stupid alpha pheromones and scent… I always hated it, because it wasn’t me, so before it was too late, I finally ran away… Ran away to… To the only alpha I’ve ever known that’s never truly looked down on me”, your eyes went wide in surprise, almost as if you had just realised your last statement.
“But all those years ago in school I–”
“I accepted your apology for that, remember? It was a one off encounter, we’re all assholes at some point in our teenage years. Besides, you never used your status with me again, even when we were bickering. Hell, Changbin, I defied you back then, you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because… Because you smell like freshly made fairy floss… And… And peppercorns”, you gulped, your eyes darting all around his face. “I couldn’t… I mean, I’m sorry to say, Bin, but I really didn’t feel threatened by you at all. I never have”.
“Huh…” Changbin wasn’t sure how to reply to that, how to feel about that, mad because he wasn’t able to succeed at intimidating people as an alpha?–after all, he had been wired to think of that as the norm–or feel happy because he was able to make you feel comfortable around him, even that one and only time he tried to intimate you? It was a lot to unpack, so he decided to ignore it, focusing instead on something else. “Fairy floss and peppercorns?”
“Mm. Fairy floss and peppercorns”, you stated simply, your gaze jumping from one of his eyes to the other.
Gulping the saliva that had collected in his mouth, and encouraged by the lack of judgement in your eyes, Changbin decided to come clean, too. “I’ve been… Trying to get away from you because I was embarrassed. Because I’m an alpha that also doesn’t feel comfortable in his own skin. I think it’s weird, out of the norm, but I like the way we cuddle, too. I’m sorry if I made you think you did anything wrong, you didn’t”.
You quite literally exhaled a sigh of relief, a soft smile making its way onto your face. “Good. Then let’s stop the awkwardness, yeah?”
Changbin nodded, a smile of his own painting on his lips. With one final bright smile, you finally turned away from him, opening the door to leave the server room and return to your work.
“And just so you know”, you said right before you stepped out the door, turning back to look at him. “I… I like fairy floss… And… And peppercorns”, Changbin’s eyes went wide in surprise. “So, you don’t need to feel embarrassed around me for being you”.
Before Changbin could say anything, you were already out of his sight, the door quietly clicking shut behind you. Changbin couldn’t quite understand what had just happened, but he felt heat spread on his face. Only that this time, it wasn’t out of embarrassment.
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Changbin was truly, truly fond of rainy days like these, even more so now that he could spend them cuddling with you again. As soon as you talked to him in the server room, as soon as Changbin let himself be vulnerable with you, your cuddling sessions were back in order–if anything, they were even more frequent now.
Sometimes, when it was late at night and you felt particularly cold, you’d shyly knock on Changbin’s door, patiently waiting for him to signal you to come in, only to tuck yourself under the covers and push your body against his right after, and Changbin loved it. He’d often wake up in your arms, either with his head laying on your chest or with you spooning him from behind and dear heavens if he loved being a little spoon, your little spoon. 
Changbin was used to cuddling his younger packmates, skinship wasn’t uncommon in their pack–on the contrary, everyone was stupidly touchy with each other–but when Changbin got to cuddle with you, it all felt so starkly different, warmer, safer, so he’d go into your arms as often as he could, just as he was doing now.
This was by far his favourite position to cuddle with you as of now, with one of your hands softly caressing his back and shoulders, with your fingers in his hair massaging his scalp, with his head on your chest, feeling your beating heart under his ear, feeling the rise and fall of your chest with each intake of breath, enjoying the cushion of your breasts. It was soothing, and Changbin would often find himself drifting off to sleep when you cuddled like this.
Today something was different, though. Among the pitter-patter of rain on the windows of your home, among the sounds of the third episode of Merlin you were watching today, he could also hear your heart, beating a bit faster than usual. So he couldn’t help himself when he asked, “you okay?”
“Mm”, was all you mumbled in response, your eyes still glued to the TV, your soft caresses not stopping.
Changbin simply hummed in response as well, closing his eyes again and burying his face further in the crook of your neck, almost brushing your skin with his nose. “You smell like autumn”, he couldn’t help but mumble.
“Like autumn?” You asked with a chuckle, burying your fingers further in his hair.
“Mm. Nutmeg and ginger. Like autumn and freshly baked cookies”.
You hummed, angling your head the tiniest bit to the side, almost as if you were giving Changbin more space to get even closer to your neck.
“I like freshly baked cookies…” He really couldn’t help himself when he inhaled deeply, taking in your comforting scent. It was almost overwhelming, how it coursed through his body, reaching areas deep within him, transporting him to that everlasting autumn. And maybe it was that feeling of comfort, or maybe it was the fact that he just couldn’t keep his urges hidden anymore, but before he knew it, he had pressed a soft kiss to your neck, right on your pulse point.
Changbin would’ve panicked once he realised what he’d done, but your reaction was enough for him not to. A satisfied hum that vibrated against his lips, your heartbeat picking up just the tiniest bit, and the fingers you had threaded in his hair almost, almost pushing him further into your neck. So, instead of shying away, he did it again, and again, and again, and again… Slowly, leisurely pressing kisses on the expanse of your neck to his heart’s content, revelling in the warmth of your skin on his lips.
However, Changbin quickly realised it wasn’t enough, that he had opened a dam in his heart that couldn’t be closed off anymore. So, emboldened by the lack of distress in your scent, by the quickening of your heartbeat, and by the almost inaudible rumble that started in your chest, his lips ventured further up, finding your cheek, and pressing soft kisses there, too. Many kisses. Pecks of his lips on your cheek where he could feel your skin heat up under his touch. And before he knew it, he found your lips, where he placed a kiss that lasted longer than the rest, a rumble of his own starting deep within his chest as he felt your lips react to him, pressing pecks of your own on his lips for as long as he did.
When Changbin pulled away from your lips and finally opened his eyes, he could’ve melted right then and there. There was a deep blush spreading all over your cheeks, but you looked so relaxed as you looked back at him, so content, he started to feel his cheeks heat up as well. Changbin was going to say something, to address what he had just done, but before he could, your hand was on his nape, pulling him down to you, sealing your mouths again.
This kiss wasn’t the same, though. It was loaded, heated, your tongue softly swiping over his bottom lip to get him to open his mouth, which he couldn’t help but do as soon as he registered the movement of your wet muscle on his skin. Your fingers threaded in his hair, holding the strands firmly between your fingers to angle his head to your liking as your tongues got acquaintanced with one another. Your previously barely audible rumble was now reverberating against Changbin’s chest full force, and the combination of his and yours had the whole sofa vibrating as you continued to kiss.
Soon, the sound of the raindrops hitting your windows, the sound of Merlin and Arthur speaking in the background, and the sound of your combined, synced rumble mingled with the wet sounds of your kiss, that, added to the overall feeling of it, to the feeling of your tongue and your lips against his, to the warmth of your body below him, had Changbin’s head spinning. And it all only intensified the moment he started to smell the change in your scent, from its usually relaxed tint to what Changbin knew to be lust, and he was sure you were noticing it in his, too. There was no way you wouldn’t, not when each graze of your tongue against his had all the blood rushing from his head to his crotch, and eventually you would notice that, too.
Pulling on his hair you got Changbin to detach his lips from yours, got him to look at you. “Changbin…” Your eyes darted all around his face, from his eyes to his nose to his lips and back up, and when you finally looked him in the eyes again, Changbin couldn’t help but swallow the saliva that had collected in his mouth.
“I like you”, you said simply, the words rolling off of your tongue easily as you stared confidently into his eyes, just as he stared right back.
“I like you, too, pup. So mu–” Before he could finish talking your lips were on his again, making him moan.
“How much?” You mumbled against his lips, just as he felt your legs shuffle below him, shuffle so you could press one of them further against his crotch, feeling him up.
“So, so much”, Changbin mumbled back between pecks of his lips, rolling his hips the tiniest bit so you could feel him even more. “Can’t you feel it?”
“Mm, I can”, your free hand set a trail down his spine, and Changbin couldn’t help but shiver with the motion. “But I want you to show me”.
Changbin’s mouth detached from yours then, so he could look you in the eyes. Your pupils were blown, your scent was everywhere, almost clouding his senses completely, but he had to ask. “You… You sure?”
“Positive”, the hand you had on his lower back moved further down, for you to grab a handful of his bum. “Are you?”
His lips were back on yours in an instant, a shared moan of relief escaping you both upon contact, getting lost in the other’s mouth. Changbin trailed kisses from your mouth, to your cheek, finally finding himself back on your neck, inhaling your scent and kissing your pulsepoint to mumble a ‘so fucking sure’ against your skin just as his hand sneaked below your shirt, dragging all the way from your belly to finally settle on your ribs. He wanted to be careful, he wanted to enjoy it, he wanted you to enjoy it, and before his brain could send the signal to his hand, your hand was already on his, pushing his further up to cup your breast.
Changbin couldn’t help but groan as he squeezed and kneaded the tender flesh, relishing the way your breath hitched in your throat from the motions of his hand. “Is there anything I shouldn’t do?” He mumbled against your neck, just as his thumb grazed your nipple.
“Don’t call me degrading names”, he could feel the movement of your throat against his lips as you swallowed, and he acknowledged your request with a hum. “Let’s… Let’s keep it simple for now, is that okay with you?”
Changbin moved away from your neck to look you in the eyes, the movement of his thumb on your nipple stopping, but he kept his hand there. “Yes. Tell me anything you want and I’ll do it. Anything”.
“Anything?”
Changbin nodded, so you continued. “I’ve been thinking… Fantasising…”
“Oh, have you? Of?” Changbin couldn’t help but smirk, making you scoff a laugh.
“Yes. Don’t look so smug, makes me want to wipe the look off of your face”, you pressed your leg further against him, making him inhale deeply. “Give me head”.
Changbin’s mouth watered immediately. And it was just as he was about to move his hand off of your breast that you added, “always wanted to know how it felt like”.
Changbin paused his movements immediately, seeking your gaze. “You… Never?”
You shook your head. “Never”.
Changbin couldn’t help but scoff, incredulous, mumbling a ‘what a shitty alpha’ that made you chuckle before he started his descent down your body. You wanted him to give you head? Oh, he would give you head. He’d give you the best head he’d ever given. Hooking his fingers on the waistband of your shorts, he gave you a final look, seeking your confirmation, which you gave him almost immediately, so he pulled the shorts off of your legs. You weren’t wearing any underwear, and he would’ve commented on it had he not been too focused on the sight.
Admittedly, he had thought about this, too. Too many times, maybe too frequently, and now that Changbin had your consent, now that he knew you wanted it, too, he was more than eager to comply with your wishes, bringing a hand to your core and spreading your folds with his fingers. He couldn’t help but swear under his breath, feeling himself grow impossibly hard as he stared, until finally, he dived, landing tentative licks on your clit that your thighs twitching and an incredulous ‘oh…’ falling from your lips.
He went slow first, letting you adjust to the feeling. Or at least, he tried to go slow first, it wasn’t long until your hand made its way to the back of his head, pushing his face further into you and making him groan. “More…”
So he gave you more, eagerly licking you, kissing you, tasting you, and in no time Changbin started to feel your grip on his hair tighten, your soft moans becoming louder and more frequent. That, coupled with the sight of your flushed cheeks looking back at him had him twitching and leaking in his underwear. 
“You–You’d give me…. Anything? Anything I want?” You were breathless, pausing between words as you swallowed thickly.
Changbin simply hummed against your skin, nodding slightly, the movement of his tongue and his lips on you not stopping for one second. 
“Finger me, too”, Changbin couldn’t help but groan against your heat as the words left your mouth, bringing a finger to your entrance to collect your essence, getting it wet before he finally pushed it in, earning him a satisfied groan from your lips. The warmth he felt around his digit had his mind reeling, and he wanted nothing more than to stuff you full and have you come undone under his tongue.
“More… Shit, Binnie, I’m not gonna break, give me more”.
Who was he to deny such a request? Changbin quickly added another finger, letting you adjust as he pumped in and out of you, as he rubbed all those sensitive spots within your warm walls, until eventually, he added another, and then another… Stuffing you full of four of his fingers to stretch you open as much as he could without causing any discomfort, with his lips around your clit and his tongue flicking it in his mouth. 
Your other hand eventually joined the other one that had been tugging on his hair, holding Changbin’s head in place as you rolled your hips to rub yourself against his tongue, to push yourself against his fingers, the most delicious noises leaving your lips, moans and groans and grunts and swears, and it was all so much, so much and so good, and he truly, truly wanted to make you come.
“Shit… Fuck, I’m–” Your words died on your tongue, replaced by a restrained moan as you bit your lower lip to contain the sound within your mouth. 
And then finally, after a few more thrusts of his fingers, after a few more flicks of his tongue, Changbin felt your walls clench around his digits, the repeating flutter ripping a growl out of his chest as he continued his movements to help you ride your high. It wasn’t until then that he realised he had been rutting against the sofa, the action would’ve made him feel embarrassed had he not been too enthralled by the blissed expression on your face to care.
Your hands finally moved away from Changbin’s head as you lightly gasped for air, propping yourself on your elbows to look at him, just as he removed his mouth and his fingers from your core to pepper kisses on your thighs and to spread the remnants of your release on the soft skin.
“Well, fuck…” You were panting slightly, a soft chuckle falling from your lips.
“Did that show you how much I like you?” A smirk made its way onto Changbin’s face as he took in the sight of your flushed cheeks.
You simply nodded, eagerly. “Now… Sit down and let me show you”.
Changbin did as asked, sitting on the sofa just as you straddled his lap, bringing your mouth to his for a heated kiss. Tugging on his shirt, you mumbled an ‘off’, moving away from his mouth just so you could remove the garment from his frame. “Fuck, look at these”, your hands found his pecks, squishing the relaxed muscles of his chest, feeling him up as your eyes fixed on the movement of your hands.
“My eyes are up here, pup”, Changbin couldn’t help but chuckle, his hands finding purchase on your waist.
“Uhum, and your tits are down here, shit”, you squeezed him a few times, making him laugh, a truly hearty laugh and he couldn’t help his cheeks from heating up. You finally turned your eyes back up to his, smirking. “Getting me all distracted with these, damn”.
Before Changbin could even reply to your comment, you had already tugged your shirt swiftly off of you as well, and he couldn’t help but zero in on your breasts as they jiggled slightly with the motion, making him swallow thickly. Taking a hold of his jaw you pulled his head up to make him look at you with a smirk plastered on your face. “My eyes are up here, Bin”, with that you connected your mouth to his, sealing your words with a heated kiss.
Changbin couldn’t stop his hands from moving lower, settling on your bum to fondle the flesh, a desperate groan falling from his lips and disappearing into your mouth once you leaned forward, pressing your bare chest against his and laying your hand palm flat on his abs, letting him enjoy the warmth of your bare skin against his. Trailing your hand further down, you settled on his crotch, finding his bulge with ease and feeling him up, making him buck his hips forward.
“Wanna touch you, Bin”, you mumbled against his lips, emphasising your words with a squeeze on the outline of his length.
“Touch me”, Changbin was surprised at how desperate his own voice came out, but he was honestly too horny, too distracted by your touch, by your warmth, by your scent, to care at all. “Touch me however you want…”
Sneaking your hand under his shorts and his underwear, your palm made contact with his bare skin, and he couldn’t help but inhale deeply, an action he did to try to ground himself, but that only made him take in more of your delicious scent, further clouding his senses. Resting your weight on your knees you hovered over his lap a bit to pull the garments down enough to free his length, lowering yourself on his thighs and wrapping your hand around him immediately after.
“Fuck… Wanna… Wanna touch you, too”, Changbin couldn’t help but moan as you tightened your grip around his cock, pumping him almost teasingly.
“Touch me”, you mumbled against his lips, and it was all he needed to move one of his hands from where it was gripping your rear to your core, easing two of his fingers into you, scissoring you open, relishing the way you moaned as soon as he did.
“You’re so hard, Binnie. Is this all for me?” You were breathing heavily, talking between kisses as you rolled your hips ever so slightly to enhance the feel of Changbin’s fingers within your walls. Separating your lips from his for a bit, you removed your hand from him, bringing it instead close to your mouth so you could spit on it, wrapping it around his cock immediately after and starting a fast pace around him.
“All for you, shit…” The feel of your hand around him, pumping him, your walls around his fingers, clenching with every single one of his movements, had him twitching and leaking in your hand, had his mind racing and his mouth watering with every single movement. “Want you…”
“Mmm… Want you, too”, your hand around his length slowed down, just as you kissed him briefly. “Condom?” You mumbled against his lips, moving away to press kisses on his neck.
Changbin gulped, trying not to get too distracted by the feel of your tongue on his pulse point. “In my bedroom”.
You hummed, grazing your teeth against his skin, making Changbin inhale a shaky breath. “Your bedroom it is”.
Removing his fingers from your core, Changbin brought both hands to your rear, making sure his hold was secure before he stood up from the sofa, carrying you safely in his arms as you continued to press kisses on his neck, admittedly making his steps less steady than they should’ve been, especially when you started to mumble in his ear just as you tugged on his hair. “Want you in me, Binnie. So bad…”
“You’ll have me, pup. However you want”, Changbin dropped you on his bed, pulling the drawer of his bedside table with more force than necessary, making everything in it ungraciously rattle with the motion. He found the box of condoms with ease, dropping it on his bed right next to where you had propped yourself on his pillows before he got rid of his shorts and his underwear, and crawled on top of you, claiming your lips once again.
The feel of your bare chest against his again had Changbin groaning upon contact, you were warm and soft and he wanted nothing more than to continue feeling your body against his, nothing more than to bury himself in your cunt and give you anything you asked him for. Changbin felt your hand reaching for the box of condoms as you kissed, and by the time he had propped himself up away from your mouth you had already torn the foil open and taken the condom out.
Licking your lips, you took his length in your hand, pumping him a few times, making Changbin swear under his breath. “Scoot back a bit”, you instructed him, and he did, moving away from you just as you pushed on his chest until he was sitting on the bed. Slowly, carefully, you slid the condom down his cock, Changbin’s hand wrapping around himself right after to make sure it was secure in place with a couple of pumps just as you leaned in to kiss him.
“Sit more comfortably, Bin”, you mumbled against his lips. “Wanna ride you”.
Changbin did as asked, holding his breath as you straddled his hips and took a hold of his cock, lining it with your entrance, until you finally sank down on him, taking him in in one easy motion. There was a shared groan of relief, and a loud ‘fuck’ falling from your lips as soon as he was buried to the hilt within your walls. Your warmth, the way he fit within your walls, had his senses on edge, and Changbin’s self-inflicted months of celibacy were certainly catching up to him right now. 
“Shit, puppy… Don’t think I’ll last, you’re so fucking tig–” Changbin choked on his words as you started to move, bouncing up and down his length with fervour, barely giving him any time to catch his breath.
“And you’re so fucking big”, taking a hold of his hair, you tugged his head back, making him grunt and his cock twitch. “So fucking big like the alpha you are, huh? Stretching me open so good with your fucking monster cock, fuck…” Your lips were on his in an instant, and Changbin felt himself flush. The movement of your hips, the hold you had on his hair, and the words you were saying to him had him moaning against your mouth, he would’ve felt embarrassed, had he not been completely engulfed in your scent, almost overwhelmed by how horny you were, by how horny he was.
With his hands on your rear, Changbin bounced you up and down his length, aiding your own movement and gripping your flesh tightly, making you squeal. And when you removed your mouth from his to attach it to his neck and suck harshly on his skin he decided he didn’t want to hold back in any way, if there was anyone he knew that wouldn’t judge him it was you. So he moved his head, baring his neck further for you, just as he felt his cock leak fluids into the latex. “More… Puppy, more… Please…”
He was barely making any sense, but it seemed like you understood him, since you continued to pepper love bites on his neck, and Changbin had to make the conscious effort not to drool. Alphas shouldn’t let others close to their neck like this, it was an act of vulnerability, of submission, and it was much worse to let others mark them. A love bite was, essentially, a wound, and a wound on the neck of an alpha was usually something to be ashamed of. But alas, Changbin was no ordinary alpha, just like you were no ordinary omega.
When you pulled your lips away from his neck and looked him in the eyes, Changbin couldn’t help but tighten his grip on your rear and bounce you faster on his cock, making you throw your head back and bite your lip to muffle a groan. “Fuck… Warm… Tight…” Changbin could barely talk, he was feeling lightheaded, the feel, the sight, the scent… It was too much.
“You look so pretty, Binnie. So fucking pretty”, you were also breathless, your sentences breaking between moans and groans of your own, and Changbin’s brain was close to shutting off completely, his body moving almost on instinct as he brought a hand to your clit, diligently rubbing circles on the bundle of nerves that had your cunt clenching harder around his cock and whines falling from your mouth.
Your walls had a vice grip on his cock and Changbin felt his abdomen tensing further the more you bounced on top of him, reaching dangerously close. So his hand sped up, determined to get you to your peak, too. “Close…” 
“Close, Binnie? Me too. So, so close… Almost there…” Changbin could only frantically nod to your question. “Wanna… Wanna come around my alpha’s cock, fuck…” Changbin couldn’t help but groan, my alpha, my alpha, my alpha, those two words wouldn’t stop resonating in his head, and his reason was slipping between his fingers the more you moved, the more you talked, words of his own starting to play in his mind, my omega, my omega, my omega.
“Wanna make my omega come… Wanna… Wanna come for my omega, too. Please, puppy…” With a few more flicks of his fingers on your clit, Changbin felt you tense up, a quick warning flying past your lips, the movement of your hips stopping as you finally came undone, trembling on top of him.
Returning his hand to your rear, Changbin bounced you on his cock as fast and hard as he could, chasing his own release, feeling his abdomen tighten further and further until finally, he came, a groan of relief flying past his lips as his seed filled the condom and he pushed your hips flush to his to keep you around him for as long as possible just as he dropped his body to the bed, completely spent. “Fuck…”
You leaned into him, pressing kisses on his face, his neck, softly caressing the skin of his chest, making him flush further. “Fuck indeed”, was all you said, which made him chuckle, incredulous.
Wrapping his arms around your waist, Changbin hugged you tightly for a moment, only to release you almost right after. “Gotta get rid of the condom, pup”.
You straightened yourself, pouting, making him chuckle just as he held the condom at the base of his cock for you to remove yourself from him. As soon as he was sitting again he carefully removed the latex from his length, tying a knot and ungracefully dropping it on the floor to pick up later. Clean up could wait, there was something more important he wanted to do right now. So Changbin laid back down next to where you were, pulling you close to feel your bare skin against his and kiss you deeply, a satisfied hum resonating within you as he did.
When you pulled back from his kiss, you regarded him with a smile that could’ve easily outshine the sun, and you brought a hand to his neck, caressing his skin softly. “Can’t believe you… You trust me enough to let me do this”.
“I’d trust you with anything”, and as Changbin said it, he knew it was true. “I’ve been… Hiding myself, my real self for so long. I don’t want to anymore”.
“I don’t want to, either. Hide my real self… I trust you, too. You make me feel safe, Bin. I do want you to… To be my alpha for real”.
Changbin felt himself flush, but he also felt like teasing you a bit, so he did. “That’d be a problem, then, Chris is the alpha of our pack!”
“Oh, God”, you groaned and weakly slapped his chest. “You know what I mean!”
“Yeah, I know what you mean”, Changbin felt as if his face was going to split open from how wide he was smiling, and, pulling you to him, he placed another kiss on your lips. “I want you as my omega for real, too”.
With a soft chuckle, you pressed a peck on his lips. “Let’s do that, then”.
“Yeah, let’s do that”, cupping your cheek, Changbin simply leaned in and kissed you, relishing the rumble that started to resonate again in your chest, just as his own rumble did, too.
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Author’s Notex2: if you want to read more of this couple you can checkout my sort of part 2 to this: Heat.
© therhythmafterthesummer 2022-2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.
Constructive feedback is always welcome :)
Changbin’s WereRoomies Instalments: Finding Comfort in Autumn · Heat · The Love I Always Dreamt Of.
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