#alpha opulence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mellowumbra · 1 year

Text

~Beautiful edges~

An alpha!Abbywerewolf! x afab!omega!reader

SMUT SMIT SMUT MDNI

will have smut, like prolly gon be nasty need holy water smut. plot! slowish burn. alpha, only female alpha you've ever met. Smut is not under the cut but will be expressed!

⚠️ warnings: porn with plot!! dom!sub dynamic, breeding(r!receiving), vulgar words, VULGARITY, descriptions of genitalia, breeding kink, werewolfheat/rut! overstimulation (r!receiving) power and strength kink

Shummary: meeting an alpha was easy. Trying not to fall in love with one? Harder than it looks.

Here is to ALL YALL freaky sob's that just want to see Abby as a werewolf,,,, I love y'all so much

Also I'm SO SORRY THIS TOOK MY MONTHS FORGIVE ME

~~~~

Relocating to the WLF had taken some time to feel somewhat normal and you owed your life to them. You were accepted as one of them, when you were first alone and near death. Omega's in the wilderness alone was a death sentence, but you managed to make your life here wonderfully enjoyable. As close as normal got, it all flew straight out the window when you met Abby Anderson.

Was it strange to meet a female alpha with unbridled power, skill, and rage? Absolutely. Did she scare the ever loving shit out of you? Absolutely. But that didn't stop you from perking your ears to listen every time her name was mentioned.

Abby was a force of nature, she commanded respect without needing to utter a single word. Six feet of muscle and piercing blue eyes that glowed gold and opulent when her wolf appeared. Everyone in the WLF knew about Abby, and were either terrified, infatuated, or a little bit of both. She worked for Isaac, as she was trained and worked like a dog in combat. She led the most dangerous of patrols under Isaac, the man who allowed the WLF to keep you safe, who sent her out to do his worst work.

Being an unmated alpha made it even more..interesting...

As soon as her name entered your airspace, words passed around about the alpha's skills during her rut. You could not stop the onslaught of other companions dishing tidbits during these conversations. Hell you couldn't go anywhere in the past two weeks and not hear about Abby Anderson, the most "skilled" alpha in the entire WLF. You were even more curious to why a female inherited an alpha title. You wondered why you hadn't heard her name sooner, and you soon figured out why. Abby had been in a relationship, and a serious one at that. But, that was over, from what the other omegas in your rounds gossiped about. You were surprised to hear that Abby had been dating a male, a one of almost equal rank as her. Her most recent "pursuits" were women.

You rolled your eyes at Arya's gossip and finished suturing a deep abdomen wound from your most recent patient. The man smiled at you, thanking you for the dressings and ointment. "Hey y/n," Arya says, your other medical assistant and friend catches your attention.

"Yeah? Whatcha need," you ask, wiping down your med tray and discarding a dirty needle.

Arya then asks you if you need to stay longer or if you need to head out. You reply no, you've got nowhere to be. Arya quickly discards her medical garb and ducks out, the sun already set. You sigh and work on seeing if anyone other WLF member needs to be attended to.

Something overpowering and strange enters your sense just after. It makes you stop, startled by the sudden thick air. A strong scent, almost hypnotizing. Abby Anderson is sitting on the bed across from you, blue eyes fixed on your figure. You start, now taken aback at how she appeared almost soundlessly.

"Jesus Anderson you scared the shit out of me," you swore, walking over to inspect a large shoulder wound running from her shoulder to mid bicep. Her muscles glisten with sweat, a now failing stitch job visible against her skin. Her honey hair in a signature loose braid, freckles dotting her neck and shoulders, clad in a gray tank top that exposes her skin to the blistering sun. "Sorry, is' just a habit," she breathes, "I didn't mean to startle you."

Her smile is dizzying but wanton, skin too white. She's in pain.

"It's alright, what are we looking at huh? A mighty alpha needing some help?" You tease, lifting her arm to assess her shitty patch job. Abby hissing at the pain or the figurative jab, you weren't sure.

You smile quietly, adding in a few words of "Alright gimme a second, I can fix you up."

"Thank you y/n, if I tell Manny that his stitch job was shit he'd take it personally," she chuckles dryly to avoid the grimace of you cleaning her wound with alcohol.

The stench almost clears your nostrils of her overpowering scent, almost. With a steady hand, you begin to swiftly move a needle through her flesh. The skin gave way easy to the needle, signalling she must've avoided coming here for a few hours, at least.

"You avoided coming in here, at least since before dinner," you say brazenly.

Abby puffs a quick breath through her nose, unhappy with the answer you've settled on.

"Maybe I did."

You can feel her eyes on you, this whole time. She follows the movements of your fingers, you can hear her nose purposefully inhale quickly at least once, and your cheeks heat at the sudden interest she's taken in you. Her scent is making your mind do flips, alphaalphaalphaalpha repeating in your head by your unhelpful wolf. Your hands almost shaky by the end, Abby rolls her shoulder with the new bandage applied.

"Keep that one for at least the next 2 days, or until you've noticed its leaked through your bandage. Keep it as dry and clean as possible," you instruct.

Abby just flashes you a blinding smile. "You do a good job, I feel better already. Thanks doll," she flashes a wink at you, smirk in her eyes.

That wink makes your ears turn red, palms suddenly sweaty. You roll your eyes to act nonchalant, placing a narcotic in her hand.

"Take these no less than 12 hours apart with food, and I mean it Anderson, with food," you say, fingers brushing one another's as you close her fingers around the pills. A resounding shock zaps through your fingers as fast as lightning, snapping her head up at you. Her eyes flash red just as fast, replaced by their usual blue.

Your eyes are wide, hand zinging from some unseen energy. Abby thanks you silently with a nod, hands stuffed in her pockets, and rushes off.

-------

Ever since that day in the infirmary, Abby is never out of your sight. During inventory rounds with your other med students, led my Abby's surgeon father, Dr. Anderson. She's always just looming. Your friends start to ask questions when the blonde walks into the infirmary one day, looking as healthy as ever.

You stare curiously as catch her eye, when she throws another wink at you. All your other friends blush and try to look busy.

"You don't look in pain Anderson?" You question, raising an eyebrow.

"No," she chuckles, "but I do want to ask if you had any extra isopropyl alcohol on you? One of my buddies managed to get blood all over a cell, and we need a cleanup," she says, so casually.

You start, but manage to stutter out a response.

"Um y-yeah we have some but it's not here yet, I can bring it to you in an hour or so?" You question, to which she just nods and winks at you.

"Find me in the FOB on the first floor sugar!" She calls out, leaving you a blushing mess.

----

Some time later, alcohol in hand, you make your way to the FOB, when a sharp pain in your abdomen makes you lean against a wall in a back hallway. You shake your head, trying to clear your head as your wolf has taken over, screaming for help. Panic ensues. You know any willing male werewolf will hear you, and you sink into a corner.

Someone rounds the corner, and you can't see who it is as your vision is blurry with tears. You turn your head away to ease the embarrassment. The same overpowering scent you remember from two weeks ago invades your mind, and your wolf goes nuts. It's Abby, and she knows exactly what's happening.

SMUT I REPEAT SMUT

"I'm so sorry please don't come closer pleaseAbby," you beg through near tears, your heat blinding and painful. Quick breaths through your nose accompanied with full body shakes makes Abby growl lowly. She knew you needed to be claimed, the pain unbearable for her future mate to endure. A rumble in her throat makes you tilt your head towards the ceiling, breaths coming in faster. That growl is pure power, pure dominance. The fear in your heart of her power comes through your eyes and Abby realizes your fear, and it hurts. Your intoxicating scent fills her nose like a fog, your fight against a need to be taken care of slowly failing. Your heat and scent flies down to Abby's pelvis, unable to stop the whirlwind of arousal she feels.

"Hey, hey look at me," she commands, power still in her voice. She's knelt to your eye level. Don't be sorry baby. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise y/n, I promise. Please, let me take you somewhere safer," Abby begs. Alphas don't beg, they command. Her beg, plea has you staring in her eyes, desperate to believe her.

You pant, fear still swirling in your eyes. Abby just offers her hands, warm and calloused. After not saying anything, she slowly lifts you into her arms. Eyes lidded, mouth slightly parted, your heat addled brain screams at the feeling of power and protection. You can't help but inhale deeply at her scent, your core aching for more. Abby slips you into her room.

"Y/n, please," Abby begs. "I want to help you." Her eyes are a tinge of gold, showing her alpha side. She puts her forehead gently to yours. "I know you have feelings for me," she breathes. "But I won't do a thing unless you say it's okay."

Tears streaming down your cheeks, your eyes widen in surprise. You're lucid for just a second. "Oh god Abby, I-I don't know what to say," you groan, embarrassed. Your heat is blinding, a near total body and mind need to just be taken care of.

"I won't do anything you don't want baby," she cooes, her pet name undoing your resolve.

You take a deep breath and swallow, knowing that all you've wanted is for Abby to make you hers. And only hers.

"I want to be yours. I want to be only yours," you admit, cheeks darkening. "Please tell me you feel this as strongly as I do," you rush out, fully vulnerable.

Abby's turn to be wide eyed is short lived before she lands her lips on yours, desperate and hungry. "I want nothing more then to make you my mate. I- want- nothing more -than to fuck you into -this bed- for hours," she groans as you moan into her mouth. Her lips are warm, your arms reaching out to tangle in her blond hair. Your heat is begging, burning like a fire under your skin. You whine pitifully, Abby now fully aware of your need.

"I know darling, I know," she whispers. Abby lays you down on her bed, kissing you with a new ferocity that made you tug at her clothes. Feeling her strong abs run over your now bare chest made you bite her lip, a low growl coming from Abby's throat. Her mouth kisses down your neck and reaches the softness of your chest. With lips and tongue, she sucks your nipple between her teeth, licking it as it grows in need. Moaning at this was music to your alpha's ears. Your breasts are damp with spit and raised pink nipples fall in her mouth as she attends to one after the other.

She pulls your pants off, letting your heat racked body shiver at the sudden coolness. Her eyes flash a deep gold now, looking you over, a wanting moan leaving her lips.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to see you like this, how long I've been wanting to do this with you," she groans, the obvious bulge in her cargo pants making your mouth water and brain go fuzzy at her words. Her hands sink into your skin, pulling the flesh as she drags her hands down your stomach and over your thighs. Your cunt is wet, glazed over with slick and need. Pink lips swollen at the want of satiation. She kisses you, hand reaching down to palm you, gathering your wetness along her fingers. Your pants have turned into whimpers, into breathy moans.

"You're so wet for me, my precious mate," she cooes, dominance leaking through her words. "I wonder how wet you'll be when I sink my cock into your wanting pussy," you moan at her words, pulling off her pants. A small gasp leaves your lips as her member springs out of her boxers.

"That is a dick of an alpha for sure," you breathe out, hearing Abby chuckle darkly at your surprise. Its shaft covered in small veins, her pink head leaking precum at the sight of your naked body. Abby leans forward on her elbows, soaking up more of your slick on her cockhead, her kisses to your lips bruising. Your scent is making her drunk, the end goal of this mating lost. Ignoring her own desperation, Abby sinks below your waist and licks a long slow strip up your center, capturing your clit in her mouth to softly suck.

"I'm not fucking you stupid until your come all over my face, my pretty mate" Abby groans.

Her name leaves your lips in a yelp, unfettered moans follow. Her tongue is masterful, her lips covered in your shiny arousal. Up and down she moves her tongue, taking time to let herself tongue fuck you, dipping into your wetness. Latching onto your clit, she sucks soft pressure and swirls her tongue. With nothing to grab onto, you resign to tugging at your alpha's long blonde locks, legs high above your head, resting on her shoulders. The muscles in her back flex and stretch as she fucks you.

"Abby, o-o-oh fuck Abby baby pleaseplease alpha please," you moan and moan, dragging your hands through her hair.

At the mention of her title, Abby growls and picks up her pace. You feel the band in your belly tighten and snap within seconds as your orgasm washes over you in a blissful wave. Your toes curl and back arches off the bed, head thrown back in a long and loud moan. Abby continues to fuck your aching cunt into overstimulation, your legs shaking and breath uneven.

"Baby, baby I can't-can't take it anymore," you whine and moan. Abby doesn't stop but unlatches herself and slaps your pussy lightly with her palm.

"You're going to take what i give you angel, and you're gonna say thank you alpha," she hums and holds your jaw with her hand. "Okay baby?" She asks.

"Yes baby," you say softly, lips puffy as Abby captures them in a deep kiss.

"Thank you alpha," you admit shyly, peeking at her reaction through your lashes. Her breathing is ragged, hair undone and messy. Her eyes are a fierce gold, desire evident.

It didn't even take a minute before she slowly sinks herself into you, squelching sounds accompanied. Snapping up her head to you, she examines your features for any sign of pain. Your eyes are half open, lips parted in an O.

"Are you hurt?" She questions, stilling inside. You slowly shake your head, gripping her shoulders and wrapping your legs around her waist. With that, Abby slowly moves through your now sopping cunt. Her breath is short, focusing on not coming too early. You wrap around her like a vice.

"Fuck-fuck fuck baby you're so wet, so tight so warm you're so perfectfuck you are soperfect," Abby moans.

You moan at her praise, tangling your fingers in her hair, reveling in the closeness of your skin. Held up by her strong arms, the muscles in her biceps flex by your head.

"Hold on tight princes," Abby whispers into your ear, nipping at the skin.

Her thrusts start slow and languid, drawing out loud moans at each bury inside you. Your moans only get louder as her Hips snap back into yours at a near brutal pace, relishing in the wet sound of skin on skin. Abby examines your fucked out state of bouncing breasts, loud breathy moans and profanity.

"Fuck Abby fuck ABBY fuckfuckfuck my alpha fuck my alpha," you moan out, whining at the feeling of her cock stretching your walls to a beautiful feeling.

"Markmemarkmeplease baby breed me please baby please," you whine out, surprising Abby at your vulgar confession.

"Yeah baby? Fuck you'resofuckingwet, you take my cock so good baby you want my pups baby? Want me to breed you like a good puppy?" Abby moans, as the slap of wet skin fills the room.

"I bet you'd like me to breed you, huh baby?" Your fucked out smile gives her the answer she needs. "Yes abby please baby breed me please don't stop," you whine.

"Dirty girl, I knew you'd like that," Abby seethes as she bites your neck, sweat on her brow.

"You wanna be all round and fuckin full for me?"

"please Abby please baby yes yes yes!" you exhale a loud moan from your chest, as she leans forward to kiss you hungrily.

In a fast motion, she flips you on your belly, arching your back and pressing your cheek into the soft mattress. Your ass on display as she spreads you to see the slick drip down your thighs. You shake your ass slowly, all shame gone, wanting to be bred like a bitch in heat.

Her hands find your hips again, fucking into your cunt immediately like the world was ending. Muffled moans and screams come from your lips, Abby moaning at your soaking pussy sucking her in and milking her cock for all it was worth. Listening to your moans go up in pitch and your cunt get tighter and tighter told Abby you were so close to coming.

"You'gon come for me baby? Come all over my cock baby, c'mon you can do it. Cream all over my cock my good puppy," she rushes out, hands pulling you back to bounce on her dick.

"Fuck-ff-fuckfuck Abby I'm gon come 'my god I'm gonna come," your legs shake and let your orgasm push Abby into hers. Abby grabs your stretched out hand and squeezes it, to ground you. White hot pleasure consumes you and the heartbeat between your legs races.

You yell her name and moan a loud FUCK, drool sticking to the side of your cheek.

But abby wasn't done yet, your pleasure just comes first.

Abby's groans grow higher and higher, as your pussy pulses around her. As she feels you completely tighten around her, Abby's orgasm explodes. She feels her cock swell and a euphoric feeling washes over at the feeling of her breeding you completely full.

"Fuck baby, fuck baby ohgod," Abby moans as she collapses against your sweat drenched skin. You moan back weakly, shivering at her slow kisses up your back.

"You're so beautiful baby, gonna be so beautiful for me," Abby whispers, pulling out slowly to your disappointment.

"Fuck princess look at you," the alpha groaned, skilled fingers pulling your puffy pink lips apart to watch her cum drip out of your overstimulated pussy. You whine again, sensitive to her touch.

She coos, kissing the swell of your ass cheek.

"Come here princess let me hold you," Abby coaxes, slowing moving your body to lay between her legs. She softly kneads your back as you lay, breathing in her scent. Soft kisses to your forehead manage to lull you into a dreamlike state.

"Rest my precious mate, I've got you baby," Abby breathes, wrapping her strong arms around your figure.

Maybe falling in love with an alpha isn't hard after all.

#the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #mel's musings #abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #tlou abby #abby x reader #abbyasawerewolf #this woman #makes me question my life #I want a werewolf girlfriend

722 notes · View notes

alternate-real-ities · 1 month

Note

Hi. It would be interesting to know how you look into other universes? Do you have any kind of device or magical abilities? Can you demonstrate this on me?

Hey there, cutie 😉. Thank you for your intriguing question about how I perceive other universes and realities beyond our own. While I do not possess any magical abilities, I have developed a remarkable device that allows me to peer into the multiverse. My machine utilizes advanced quantum computing technology coupled with exotic matter as the energy source. It allows me to access specific realities with decent clarity by calibrating it carefully.

To demonstrate this capability for you, I would be happy to show you some alternate realities where you're still as stunning as you are now, only in a different way:

Here's a universe where you are instead Filipino. Here, your hair is a deep black with just the slightest hint of waviness at the top, framing your heart-shaped face perfectly. You possess a boyish face that makes anyone weak in the knees at first glance. When you smile, it's like seeing a whole world open up.

Your chest is smooth and flat, leading down to your soft belly and then tapering off into elegant legs that show little signs of hair. You are so small and delicate that it's hard to imagine that below all that innocence hides a deep lust for a big strong man to hold you up and do with you as he pleases.

Now, let's pay a visit to a previous dimension I like to call "Arab World". At the pinnacle of this society are the most perfectly engineered humans - those with Arab DNA that has been optimized through generations of careful selection, genetic tweaking and breeding to create individuals of unparalleled physical perfection and mental acuity. In this universe, you are an alpha of unparalleled might, your virility unmatched by any who have come before. You take great pride in your genetic superiority, knowing that no mere mortal could ever compare to your perfection.

You are blessed with a virile physique, muscular form sculpted by years of intense physical training. Your bulging chest and rock-hard abs speak to your boundless strength and vitality. In the gym at your lavish estate, you push yourself to the limits, determined to maintain peak condition.

But as much as you appreciate fine living and opulence, your true passion lies in power, conquest, and sexual domination of lesser beings. As an elite Arab alpha ruler, you take immense pride and pleasure in asserting your superiority over those beneath you, including your slaves.

To end this showcase gracefully, let me show you one last reality which might be my favourite. In this dimension, one of your parents is black, and as such you were born to become an handsome lightskin man.

You are an absolute fuckboy, and you wouldn't have it any other way. Your life is one endless string of parties, workouts, flirting, and fucking. You are utterly shameless about flaunting your body to anyone who will look. At the gym, you make sure every single rep is perfectly calibrated for maximum muscle growth. You strike poses, flexing and posing with a confident swagger that lets everyone know just how goddamn hot you are. The mirror loves you as much as you do.

Your nightlife consists of endless nights out on the town. You're always down to hit up the trendiest clubs in the city, the hottest bars, the flashiest parties. Your social media is filled with steamy selfies showcasing off your bodacious physique - pecs popping from tight tank tops, washboard abs glistening as you do ab crunches against a wall. Fans and admirers drool over every inch of exposed skin.

You are always on the prowl for a special someone to show off and bring home - some unsuspecting twink who can't resist getting lost in your world of pleasure and excitement. The way you touch them, caress their skin with lingering fingertips, leans into them with smoldering intensity - it's enough to make even the most experienced bottom moan like a bitch in heat.

These are just some examples of the diverse array of alternate realities that my machine allows me to access and observe from afar. Although, with the timeline converger project I'm currently working on, it may one day become possible for me to physically transform you as well if we both so desire.

As a side note, I'd like to thank you for your patience! I know I took a lot of time, but calibrating my machine takes quite some time if one wants to see realities that aren't as normal and boring as ours. I hope it was worth your time, because I'm sure it was worth mine 😉 See you next time!

#male transformation #race change #muscle transformation #muscle tf #musclegrowth #arabization #alpha man #alpha muscle #asianization #africanization

89 notes · View notes

threepandas · 1 month

Text

Bad End: Traps

"Darling~!" A rich voice greeted me, as I stepped through the final doors leading to an opulent office. "You're looking better! Are you finally adjusting to the anti-poisons? I know they made you feel quite sick."

THAT was an understatement. Try worst cramps and fever of my life, with a dose of puking for days. They put me on IVs. Buuuut? I wasn't gonna say THAT. Not a chance in hell. We, team Earth that is, were supposed to be here for DIPLOMACY. So? Fucking LIE~☆

Yep! "Bit" sick. Just a touch. Hardly noticed, really. Took a nap.

Veneni laughed, rising from the elegant sprawl she'd been resting on one of her "not called couches but totally are" things. To be honest, her voice reminds me of those old "radio stars" from the clips at the museums. All smooth yet husky, curling around you, like they're going to invite you somewhere dark to learn a naughty little secret if you're very VERY good.

Kind of voice you could listen too for HOURS, reading the most boring shit imaginable, and it be the best time you'd had in years.

I am... SO gay, for Veneni.

Like? You DO NOT UNDERSTAND. She SASHAYS. Not walks. Not strolls. Sashays! Like life is a catwalk and she is the alpha bitch here to show these other models how it's DONE. But also? Like she doesn't even NOTICE! It's just... effortless. How she moves. All delicate hand motions and rolling hips and curves.

That I Can Not Touch because she is SUUUUPER poisonous.

Which is? Frankly? Homophobic and a crime against me, specifically. Yeah, her whole species is like that. And it's why all of us are suffering through the Anti-poison adjusters. But STILL! I can't even "accidentally" brush her hand? No potential kissing of hot hot hot alien gf? Illegal. Blocked. Everyone here is a bastard and I want to complain.

.....not, mind you, that I have the metaphorical lady balls to actually CONFESS anything.

But you know... maybe.... maybe if I pine hard enough?

Good ol' stand awkwardly nearby and mentally project "NOTICE ME SEMPAI!" At her? I put on my nice outfit! Makes the girls look-! Wait, does her species even give a shit about boobs? FUCK. Okay, see this? THIS is why I was a flight assist. Just inventory and handing stuff to people who knew what they were doing.

MASTER of the fine arts of "I Can Understand The Instruction Manuel, In Case Of Emergency"!

Pretty good at coffee, too. Not to brag.

But, like? Jokes aside? Things had been... Bad.

Everything had gone to shit. Then somehow found a shovel in the manure pile and started digging. Started OUT okay! Really, it had! Travel was unexpectedly a bit rough. Some sort of space storm that went RIGHT over my head, but we dodged every major catastrophe. Got here in one piece.

There was a fancy meeting party. Whiiiich? In hindsight? Terrible idea. WAY too many people with hella poisonous skin, standing WAY too close. Only reason we didn't IMMEDIATELY lose the head diplomate? Was the regulation "new planet, unknown pathogens" full body biosuit. He? Got a HUG. Like... right out the ship.

Oof. That would have been IT, for him. Unfortunately, he didn't make it past that much longer. Someone's pet bit him. And? Yep. Completely fucking venomous. Lethally so. A tragedy, right? Outlier, surely?

Ha!

No. No this planet was trying to fucking kill us. It was a toxin coated hellpit and had so far? Murdered just over half the diplomatic crew. Those that were still alive? Over half of THEM were in emergency care. With just over a forth of the OTHER survivors being the only ones who could safely care for them.

Rest of us were either in isolation or sick as FUCK.

Isolation for those who needed to get rescued, because the Anti-poison adjusters would fucking kill them. Or sick as hell, for those few who remain that finally, FINALLY had found a way to Not DIE.

ALL WHILE PEACE TALKS WERE TRYING TO HAPPEN.

It was a shit show~☆

I? Went from basically a nobody? To "congrats! By merit of NOT being dead or dying, you're the head diplomat by proxy!" Which? Fucking WHAT? You could physically SEE the stress radiating off the poor guys back home, as they tried to speed run me through "how to not Accidentally A War 101".

I was pretty sure his cup, did in fact, NOT contain coffee. But I wasn't telling.

Instead, I got the honor of carrying the video call. Literally. Since our tech was incompatible. I got to carry the whole set up. Portable battery included. So the ACTUAL Really, Actually, Trained In Diplomacy, Diplomat could call in. And then I could look pretty and nod seriously at the appropriate times.

Mmmmhmmm. Yes. I agree. I both understand what is being said, AND support Earth's position on these matters! I have definitely studied the materials. Am supposed to be here. We have DEFINITELY suffered no catastrophic loses, pay no attention to the chaos behind the curtains! Diploooomacyyyyy....

God, she is pretty.

Watching her smile, her sensors gently shift around her like flowing water, the way her hand delicately gestured as she spoke? I... I wanted to build her, like, a cabin or something. Bring her breakfast in bed. Maybe adopt an alien dog together. And like? I don't even KNOW how to build shit. But, fuck it. I'd learn.

Cause I mean... you KNOW you got it bad, when you look at Toxic Super Hell the planet, look at pretty lady, look BACK at the planet that in no uncertain terms ACTIVELY thirsts for your blood... and go?

"So when do I move? Feeling REAL patriotic for my new home! Wooo, New Home!"

Yes I have a problem. Shut up, I'm aware.

A quite click signaled the end of their talks. Finally done for the day. I definitely, in now way shape or form, perk up like an excited puppy hearing the word "walkies". Because that? THAT would suggest I had WAY more dignity. I am a thirsty, thirsty bitch, okay? SO PRETTY. Nice laugh! Calls me Darling!! I have a LIST!!!

"Mmmm, what an unpleasant man that was. Did something happen to Mr. Ho?" She asked, stretching in the slow rolling way of hers. It looked boneless and decadent. REALLY distracting. "I hope nothing Serious~. We were nearly on the cusp of getting you home! I do hope he gets well soon. But, ah~, where ARE my manner today, Darling? You must be starving!"

Veneni sweeps forward to tuck my arm in hers, pulling me against her side. Even through my biosuit and her modest dress... I... I can FEEL her body heat. How soft and warm she feels pressed close against me. She smells tingly and spiced, kinda like citrus and mulled cider. NOT! That I'm smelling her! WHICH I'M NOT!! Because that would be so, SO creepy! It's just-!? You know-?! AaaaaaAAA???

She guides me to our little table. Probably set up for guests in general. But... you know... kinda like to THINK of it? As ours?

I REALLY need to stop while I am ahead. Good fucking gods. Ignore me.

Mmm, yes, distraction cake! Let's talk about THAT instead! Wonder what she-? I then choked on my drink. Because... because after bringing out the usual traditional deserts of she was teaching me about? And dishes I could try? Veneni... c.. casually as you please rests her chin, propped up on one hand, then reaches out with the other... to place it on my hand, which rests on the table between us.

Hear that? That's my soul screaming at a pitch only dolphins can make.

OH MY GOD.

I'd like to say? I don't immediately embarrass myself? But that's a lie. I make a wheeze reminiscent of something dying horribly. Against all odds. She is NOT immediately disgusted and done with me. Dear lord, my parents may actually have a chance at seeing me married! Holy FUCK.

Wait. No. Slow your roll.

SMILE first. We GOT this! Seduce her!

I open my mouth... and stupid fell out. FUCK.

"Calm yourself, Darling!" She laughs, the bemused fondness lighting up her face. "You hardly need to impress ME! Believe me. I knew you were mine the second I saw you. Nothing could possibly change that~"

Her cute fangs catch the light, deadly sharp. Her's is a predatory species. I wonder if they like social touch? Cause I REALLY want to cuddle. Hold hands. Touch. Ooooother stuff~ But! Mostly the Hold Cute Alien GF! Assuming that's where this is headed. Please GOD let that be where this is headed!

"I was thinking... and I don't want to be too forward, of course," oh god please do "and I hope I'm not interpreting things incorrectly!" You are not. Take me you magnificent, purple, high femme queen amongst the masses. "But... I would VERY much like to... get to know you, Darling. On a more... personal level...?"

I kept my lips pressed desperately together to keep from literally shouting the word "Yes" in her face. Be cool. BE COOL! We are both cool and Very Normal About This! Scream in incoherent joy later!

Y..Yeah! Sounds great!

This is the best day of my-!

An explosion shook the biodome. While the whole planet WAS toxic as fuck? There were levels to it's toxicity. Some places too much for even native life forms to handle. And, of course, no place that non-natives could safely survive. Thus the capital's biodome. Highly filtered air, earth, and resources. Built for diplomacy and several critical care hospitals.

Now under attack. Another bomb exploded. Cracks in the dome.

I could only stare in mute horror at the pillar of smoke. Because... Because that was the isolation area. Our evac's. Someone just blew up... Then my brain seemed to comeback online all at once, as adrenaline flooded my system. I looked between the still unpacked call system and Veneni.

A piece of tech or a high ranking, probably high interest target. My maybe hopefully girlfriend. Not really much of a choice.

Fucking LEAVE IT.

We had to go. I pulled Veneni up, told her as much. She looked so startled.

"Of... Of course, Darling. Yes. You're right. I AM probably a target, aren't I?" The thought didn't seem to have occurred to her. God, I felt like a monster having to bring such ugliness to her attention. Scaring her like this. But ignorance wouldn't keep either of us safe.

"I...I think there was a safe room?" She faltered, arms crossing almost artfully, looking so uncertain I couldn't help but want to comfort her. "But, Darling, I'll admit.. I'm.. I think I'm rather scared. Will you protect me? Stay with me? ...please?"

I couldn't help it. She looked so scared. So delicately small. I stepped forward, arms going around her. Pulling her close like I could shield her from the world. I wouldn't let anything happen to her. I promised myself. Felt her arms, a few of her sensors, desperately curl around me.

I didn't see the smile, pressed against my front. That quickly vanished as she pulled back. Nor did I notice the calm technician, hidden in the shadows of a side hall, who nodded at Veneni as I herded her to "safety". Would think nothing of how, tragically, my rooms were hit in the follow up blasts. How very lucky, that Veneni has rooms to spare. But oh~ she would not want to over step!

I don't notice a lot of things. But hey, things are great! I got a girlfriend! Or, as she likes to joke,

She Got Me.

#threepandas #yandere #yandere x reader #yanblr #reader insert #yanderecore #oblivious reader #in love reader #lesbian yandere #alien yandere #Machiavellian yandere #manipulative yandere #tw vomit #reader is sick off screen #reader is THIRST incarnate #lesbian reader #bad end traps #bad end traps au

47 notes · View notes

bunnystardew · 1 year

Text

Mods List

This post will be updated regularly as of when I download new mods. Apologies if I haven't linked directly. ^^" I struggle to find Naver mods in particular after downloading them, so I will go by the folder name for those I can't locate.

🫧 Farmhouse Interior & Exterior

(DGA) HxW Bathroom Furniture Yomi's Romantic Tricolor Flower Furniture Nano's Retro Style Furniture Aimon's Fancy Farmhouse Elliott House Reimagined Sabrine's Cottage Opulence Lively Table Decor Seasonal Garden Farmhouse V2 Delloti Farmhouse

🎀Buildings & Farm

Yri's Project Yellog - Modular Town Overhaul Daphne's buildable ice cream truck Rosy Picket Fences Seasonal Japanese Buildings Hudson Valley Buildings Nyang Cat Scarecrows HxW Romantic Fountains and Arches Somnium Buildings - distribution ended :< Raised Garden Beds - kinda glitchy but cute. Tenthousandcats' Firefly Lamps Pink & Blue Floral Town Buildings - unfamiliar again with the official name, I apologise. Unfortunately the creator is inactive? Naver mod. Tanga cream rose buildings. Tent recolours - naver png. Delloti Greenhouse Pink and White Craftables - png to merge Ogood's Farm Buildings - naver Hanuel's Farm Buildings - naver Hanuel's Craftables - naver

🫧 Pets & Farm Animals

Cutie KItty Cats - Alternative textures Seasonal Pet Houses Hanuel's Pet House Pink pet bowl - naver png

🎀 Farmer

Do Eun's female body - naver mod. GH's Peach Body type - naver. Luoli clothes are converted to FS mod Lu Zheng's animal backpacks FS-Chinese style hairstyles

🫧 Maps

Yri's Romantic Farm - This has a unique farm house Waterfall Forest Farms Lotus Flower Farm 2 - A naver mod PinkStations Cloud Heart Farm Map Secret Forest Farm - naver mod Green Hills Farm. Forest Garden Farm - naver Dew Forest Farm - naver Nemo Farm Big - naver

🎀 NPCS

Rin's portrait mod - Bachelors

🫧 Foliage

Yri's Modular Tree Overhaul with Alternative Texture Option Yri's Project Yellog - Town Overhaul (Alpha) - I use only for the grass, paths, sand etc. OnOff Pastel Town - naver mod. I am unfamiliar with the translated name TT I'm sorry. I use only the bushes and flowers from here, but it has buildings and a recolour too. Magica Trees Whale Tree - naver. Pink Grass Retexture - naver png

🎀 Other Mods

Better Water 2 Natural Color - ReShade Cuter Mines Overgrown Flowery Interface Starry Sky Interface The Love of Cooking Prince's Background Colors for Farmer Portraits Stardew Valley Expanded Yri's Retro Recolor - you can locate the foliage mods via this creator! Giftbox Cat. Bunny travelling cart - naver png Snowpondu Object Retexture - png to merge Pink Butterfly Hutch - png to merge

#stardew valley #stardew #stardew mods #stardew valley mods

163 notes · View notes

murfpersonalblog · 4 months

Text

IWTV Ep3 Musings - Claudia & Louis (Spoilers)

I'm still teary & choked up while typing this. SUPER emotional episode. It's incredible how much they packed into one ep, too! But the second half of the ep was BY FAR the most emotionally impactful IMO. Jacob's acting is just WAY too good; he had me choking up something fierce.

Louis taking pictures of his food for no effing reason like all the social media girlies do; I love it.

Louis STILL tryna be Claudia's knight in vengeful black. U_U But just like before when he tried to save her from Lestat, he can't save her from Bruce or the Theatre or even his own eff-ups. DANG. 😔

YES YOU DO. If you wanna keep pestering her about trauma she doesn't want to think/speak about, then be prepared for the consequences.

AMC, you GOTTA kill Bruce on-screen for us, either in QotD during all the Burnings, or during the PL trilogy (Killer's death was GNARLY).

LOOK AT MY DAUGHTER ALMOST CRYING RIGHT THERE. God's strongest soldier, she's suffered more than Christ, JUSTICE FOR CLAUDIA. All rapists deserve the death penalty, IDGAF.

Understatement of the century.

I CACKLED at that literal DEMON TIMING. Armand was already AT the door while y'all were concocting your lies! Then he just strolls on in, uninvited! 😭

BULLSH!TE. Not that it matters, since vamps have SUPER-HEARING and can READ MINDS, you morons! Pack your bags and go back to America RIGHT NOW. 💀💀💀

Louis, beloved, bless your heart, but if you don't take your garbage attempts at lying back to NOLA and stop playing with this ANCIENT immortal dressed in all white like the effing BOSS PIMP you USED to be.....

Alpha DADDY Maitre Armand Sir, I take back every bottom Uke Omega joke I ever said about you~! 😍

Yeah, about all that.... 😬

Aaaaannnnnd THIS is where you effed up, Claudia.

And Armand heard the WHOLE THING. 😭

Look at her FACE. 😭😭😭😭

They KNEW she hated being treated as a child, and they KNEW her time was numbered cuz she lied about breaking their Great Laws, so they DELIBERATELY made the "Baby LouLou" role to humiliate her, and EXPLOITED her image to bring in extra revenue (how many BLACK actresses did they ever have in their coven/stage? ZERO); all while KNOWING they were gonna kill her and Louis ASAP.

youtube

I hate this Theatre coven with ever fibre of my being, Maitre.

Excellent point, Louis. Cuz I noticed in Ep2 that their apartment is kind of crappy--I assumed it was cheap & low class cuz of the tenants all being college students & sex workers, and I noticed a bunch of chipped paint everywhere; on the doors & walls.

They're slumming it in a studio, sleeping in the living room, as neither has their own room & she has to use a Murphy Bed. Major step below 1132; the exact opposite of how book!Claudia & Lou lived in Parisian opulence--highlighting my point that AMC!Claudia got NOTHING out out being a vampire.

But it's also pointing out how Louis covers all the cracks--in his MIND, in the lies he tells himself, just to live with the glaring problems he desperately wants to cover up & deny.

I'm finna yeet myself out the nearest window.

This is SO bizarre, cuz in this version Lou KNOWS Lestat's not really dead! In the book Lou set him on FIRE. So ofc he'd think Les was really dead. But here it makes no sense why he's carrying all this guilt!

Armand knew Lou & Claudia LIED, sure--but he SHOULD know Lestat's still ALIVE--he's probably chained up in the Theatre basement in one of those friggin "wet room burial vaults!"

THANK YOU.

The guilt is out of control. Louis, if Les couldn't tell you loved him after ALL OF THAT, then he's a effing fool who neither understands nor deserves you. Now go chop his d**k off!

Is that what you tell yourself when DreamStat's in bed with you every night? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I haven't seen mental trauma treated so well in Horror media since Senua's Sacrifice; this is incredible. 👏

Lou, give yourself a bit more credit--you're doing the best you can! :( Even if your best is an entire travesty. U_U

NOBODY TALK TO ME!

Just when I thought she was having a breakthrough, she doubles down on thinking Lestat lied to them about Europe being terrible. 🤦

(The way Lou clutches his pearls like he's having a heart attack--STOP it, ma'am~! 👌) And YES, you should've told her that you folded and spilled the beans to Armand and that she was walking into a trap, WTF!?! 😡

Jacob, your GirlDad is showing; PLEASE have mercy on us! 😭

EMMYS. 👏 GRAMMYS. 👏 OSCARS. 👏 TONYS. 👏

#interview with the vampire #iwtv season 2 spoilers #iwtv tvc metas #louis de pointe du lac #justice for claudia #the feels #THE FEELS I TELL YOU #must see tv #the hype is real #Youtube

27 notes · View notes

mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 1 year

Text

A Second Chance Is A Better Chance - Christmas As A Roamer - The Seventh Christmas

Pairing: Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Witch Reader, eventual ? x Omega Witch Reader and Alpha Steve Rogers X Omega Witch Reader

Summary: Rejected by your true mate at 21, you’ve given up on the Fates and the Moon Goddesses giving you a second chance. Being a Roamer for the last 9 years, you’re an Omega hardened by the world. You’re safe on your own because of your witchcraft, but it doesn’t stop Alphas and plenty of others sniffing around, especially when you’re an unmated Omega witch, who’s wolf also happens to be white, the rarest kind. You don’t need anyone, but why do you keep coming back to Brookville and why do you keep walking into trouble and helping people that you don’t know but for some strange reason feel like family. And where is that smell of apple pie coming from?

Warnings: A/B/O, eventual smut, violence in parts, witchcraft, shapeshifters,

You couldn’t hold in your snort of laughter as you entered the hotel room. No scratch that, hotel suite. An actual suite! A suite that was quiet possibly bigger than your whole house growing up.

“Everything ok Miss?” the bell hop asked.

“Oh yes, thank you, just kind of feels like I’ve fallen face first into Home Alone 2.”

He smiled at you and tried to hide his laughter.

“Well, it’s not that room but it’s pretty similar. Mr Thrombey says to remind you to run up the room service, something about Hugh paying.”

You failed to answer as your attention was pulled by the huge Christmas tree in the corner.

Christmas trees were a standard feature over the festive period but they held a special significance for witches. The thick fir tree stood tall and broad in the corner, well decorated and instead of an angel or fairy on its top there was a witch on a broom that suspiciously resembled you.

“That’s a gift from Mr Thormbey, the box is in the cloakroom for you to take it with you.” the bell hop gestured towards what you guessed was the cloakroom and you nodded in response.

“Can I get you anything else Miss? A tour of the room?”

As sweet and polite as the beta bell hop was you really didn’t want his scent all over the place. Your new higher end, better quality suppressants had frazzled your senses and put you on high alert as your body got used to them.

“I’m good, thank you.” you tipped him well and you locked the door tightly behind him as he left. You pulled a vine from a jar in your bag and placed it over the lock and handle. It grew and secured the door further. Thank you Cordelia.

You wandered around the suite, taking in its, well you weren’t sure, what to call it, over the topness? That wasn’t a word. Opulence then? It was definitely fancy.

When you found the bathtub that you could probably go swimming in, you decided to drop a certain elderly alpha a text.

Thank you Harlan, quick question as I’m not bijouy like you, is this a pool or a bathtub?

Harlan loved your sarcasm and it had been a personal highlight of his over the last few months to see you go toe to toe with his various family members, especially his grandson. That along with when you thrown said grandson straight across the garden into a tree and then onwards into the fountain, which you’d blessed to help rid him of the spell that had been placed on him. The tree wasn’t necessary but he’d grabbed your ass too many times.

Working with the Thrombeys had been quite the experience. You’d managed to get a few hours in the local witchcraft store as the pack and coven running it had experienced a surge in pups post-war, which was to be expected but with everyone out of sync, the usual staggering of births was out the window. You’d entered looking for a few supplies and left with a job.

A few weeks in Harlan had arrived with his nurse asking for a witch for their annual Halloween festivities. The coven had given a firm no saying they were too busy with the store and pups, and couldn’t spare the time this year. You were surprised and a little confused. Their store was doing well, why did they usually work for this random rich man, especially as a token witch at Halloween. Witches usually avoid things like that and the stigma that came with it. Many witches saw it comparable to the few witches that were kept alive and kept as ‘guests’ by rich families after Salem. News flash, they weren’t guests and were used for protection and often subjected to repeated alpha commands to stop them leaving.

You’d continued to pretend you were minding your own business, whilst eves-dropping. Your name pulled your attention away from the shelf you’d been at for the same ten minutes.

“Y/N” your name again.

“Yes, Luna Zelda.”

“Harlan here is looking for a witch to stay with them over the Halloween weekend. We usually oblige but you know yourself how busy we are.”

Harlan had stood from his wheelchair and offered you his hand.

“I don’t see how this has anything to do with me.” you’d replied, smiling as Hilda had sniggered in the corner, her three month old on her hip.

“Well it has everything to do with you, Miss?” Harlan replied, offering his hand again.

“Miss Non Of Your Business.” you replied, turning and walking away into the back of the store.

By the next day it had very much been your business. Zelda had done her best to convince you, spending the whole afternoon explain why one of them would be their token witch each year. The busyness of the store wasn’t constant and they had months in the low season where they wouldn’t break even. Yet they clearly weren’t struggling.

“Harlan pays well.”

Then Zelda had told you the amount and you’d been a bit sick in your mouth. This was quickly followed with you offering to look after the pups so they could still do the job but with so many little ones around they understandably didn’t want to be parted from the pack, especially not as witches at Halloween.

Then Fiona had called. She did this on occasion, as much as you tried to brush her off but with one of the girls from Christmas Eve being a clairvoyant it would sometimes spark her worry. She was also incredibly nosy.

Of course, she knew Harlan. It made sense they were a similar age, both from money, he could be trusted she told you and “goddess knows child you need the money”.

It had given you food for thought and then you’d been awoken by a scuffle outside the bar across the street. Zelda and Hilda had let you stay in the small studio above the shop as part of your working with them but the bar across the street was often a curse to your white wolf ears.

“Hands off my omega!” was followed by more arguing, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, glass being broken and a scream of no. A growl ripped deep in your chest and you were out the window, barefooted and standing on your broom with your jeans thrown on over your pyjamas. The scream wasn’t an average scream, if any could be called that. It was an omega and she was terrified.

You were quick across the street and at the side of the omega who was now bent across her alpha shaking him, what seemed to be their pack trying to help. The alpha that had done the damage was now being held back.

“You’ve done it now Ransom, no amount of Thrombey money can fix this.”

You scowled and flicked your broom to stand in front of him, without casting an eye away from the alpha on the floor.

“Keep him as you in stance”

The blonde being held back went stiff, arms by his side and stood ridged in mirror to your broom. Those holding him shuffled back, as whispers asked who you were.

“May I help?” you asked the omega, she looked up at you, to her alpha on the floor, then across to who you guessed was the alpha of the pack.

He nodded and answered a quiet “please”.

You could hear the voice of the pack beta on the phone requesting the ambulance be quick.

You sniffed and scanned his body using both your white wolf instincts and your powers of a witch.

“Tell them he has a broken jaw, his eye socket is shattered and he has swelling to his brain. There’s a bleed to his brain too.”

There was a mix of whimpers and growls in response.

“I can help but it’ll be temporary. Should give you long enough to get him to the hospital and for them to get him in surgery.”

You looked up at the alpha of the pack.

“You have my permission.”

You used your powers to reduce the bleeding and swelling, you summoned your bag from the open window of the studio and dabbed a mix of peppermint and wintergreen oils around his face. You turned to his omega and placed his hand in hers, telling her to keep talking to him. It was then you noticed the marks on her arms.

“Did he do this?” You asked nudging your head in the direction of the alpha you now knew as Ransom, still held in place by your broom. She nodded and turned away from you.

You rose from your knees and nodded to the pack alpha, who followed you towards Ransom. You sighed as you heard his wallet being pulled from his jeans.

“You don’t owe me anything but I will take him.”

There was a darkness to your eyes as you turned towards the pack alpha for permission. You didn’t really care if he gave it you or not, one way or another you were teaching this arsehole a lesson. The alpha nodded.

“Do what you want with him, just make sure he never comes near my pack again.”

You moved quickly grabbing Ransom by the throat and dropping the broom to stand on it and fly away. There was a gasp from the crowd as you did and you realised you literally didn’t give a shit about what they thought.

You’d spent the night teaching the spoiled trust fund brat a lesson. Tossing him through the air, a dip in the river, followed by you leaving him up a tree. Towards the end you thought you should maybe feel sorry for him, but you didn’t. You knew as soon as you saw him outside the bar he’d been hit with a spell and you guessed he’d been battling with it for least six months but Ransom was still an asshole. A good looking asshole but an asshole non the less. The spell had just emphasised his already there traits.

You landed on the Thrombey's driveway as the sun rose and were quickly greeted by the banging of the large front doors being swung open and a shotgun being pointed in your face.

“You must be daddy dearest” you’d quipped as you used magic to pull the gun from his hands and tossed it into the windscreen of the vintage looking BMW parked to the side of the house.

“I wouldn’t bother fighting her or pointing any guns either” came Harlan’s voice, “she’s a six and could have us all on our asses before we’ve had chance to say thank you.”

“What the hell are we saying thank you for?” a female voice snapped.

“Well she didn’t kill him did she?” Harlan replied.

“There’s still time.” you quipped back “and if he ever puts his hand on another omega, I’ll rip his dick off turn it into a toad and ram it down his throat.”

Harlan chuckled as you sauntered in one of your hands around Ransom’s throat as you pulled him alongside you, your broom in the other and you bag across your body.

You tossed him onto the rug in the fancy hall way.

“He’s bewitched isn’t he?” Harlan asked.

“Why didn’t you ask Zelda or Hilda for help?”

“I wasn’t sure, my grandson is many things, including an asshole, but his behaviour has been more out of control.”

“He’s always been a piece of shit.” Came a voice, you weren’t sure who’s.

“Can you help him?” Came another voice.

“I can.”

“How much witch?” came the voice of Ransom’s father, followed by money being thrown at you.

You huffed and shook your head, turning and leaving. You heard Harlan call someone an idiot as you flew away on your broom.

You were back three days later after Ransom had got handsy with you in the supermarket of all places. You’d left your groceries, grabbed him by his underwear and flown him back via his wedgey and your broom. You tossed him around the garden, blessed the fountain and chucked him in.

Harlan and his nurse had watched from the library window, highly amused, especially as you pulled him out, tapped his face lightly and whispered whatever it was that made the colour drain from his face.

A week later, albeit still a bit of a dickhead, Ransom had very publicly apologised, paid for any medical bills and damages he’d caused. Much to the town’s amusement he’d also taken to following you around like a lost pup, lots of “I’m sorry” and with random expensive gifts in his hand. Your response was to spin him around and push him in the other direction with your powers.

“I think he might be trying to court you.” Hilda had giggled.

“Well he can court himself.”

Sure he was attractive but he knew it and he was still a bit of a dickhead. But they was something familiar about his face and the blue of his eyes.

Harlan had come again to ask for your appearance at Halloween and the white wolf side of you decided it was time to strike a deal.

The agreement was as follows

He was to keep Ransom out your way.

He was to pay you the agreed fee.

He was to pay Zelda and Hilda the same fee.

He went to speak and you could tell from his scent and expression he wasn’t initially going to agrue.

You explained quickly and assertively that Ransom couldn’t be getting in your way if you were to be ‘working’ of sorts. If that’s what you called parlour tricks and being a token. You were to be paid the going rate and so were Hilda and Zelda as normal. You wouldn’t have a job or roof over your head if it wasn’t for them, and they’d talked you into it (or so you’d told Harlan). You may have also caught sight of the shop accounts and how limited the rest of the year was income wise. They had an influx of pups and being out of sync because of a war wasn’t their fault.

“It’s that or nothing” you’d told him firmly, “but you could always go to an agency but you could end up with one of Agatha’s strays.”

You turned and walked away head held high. Harlan had called after you.

“I’ll have the contracts sent over.”

And overall, being a token witch wasn’t that bad after all. Their friends and extended were also rich assholes but you could handle it. Your bank balance was better off, you were healthier with your better quality suppressants but not sleeping in your car was a hard habit to break and it was still often the easy option when hotels didn’t take roamers.

Ransom had slipped the keys to a new car into your hand as you’d been packing your bags in their guest wing. You told him you couldn’t accept it but he simply closed your hand around the keys, looked at you you with sad eyes and walked away.

You’d attempted that evening to give them to Harlan but he’d explained that material things were their way of apology. He’d followed it by pushing an envelope towards you, after you’d pointed out he’d paid you already and he had nothing to apologise for. He’d told you it was an early Christmas gift. Somewhere to go at Christmas.

He’d never admit it but he’d shed a tear when you’d told him about your childhood. He’d pulled a picture from his office drawer, hidden between paperwork and looked at it fondly.

“You were right Fi, she’s special. Nearly as special as you.”

The gift in the envelope was a ten days stay in a fancy as hell hotel. You weren’t going home for Christmas and you were completely fine with that.

Meanwhile in Brooklyn...........

It was too loud, everything was too loud. Cars, the subway, Mrs Jones at 32b, the list was endless.

Steve watched as Bucky stirred in the armchair again, his features screwing to a grimace and his surviving arm starting to twitch. Another nightmare. He looked down at the letter in his hand for what was probably the hundredth time.

“With no other surviving family members, you are the the sole and only beneficiary of the estate. Your uncle, Grant Rogers, thus leaves you his properties listed below. The primary being the Brookville farm.”

His attention was pulled to Bucky as he whimpered again in his sleep and he made his way towards him.

He didn’t noticed his phone light up with a message.

Natasha - You know………Clint grew up on a farm

#alpha steve rogers x reader #alpha steve rogers #avengers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #alpha steve x omega reader #steve rogers x witch reader #bucky barnes

53 notes · View notes

monster-cock69 · 1 month

Text

a different future

AO3 link here

Pairings: Developing Peter x Steve x Bucky, established Steve x Bucky

Tags: Omegaverse, PTSD, mentions of suicidal ideation

Warnings: Peter's depressed, MPreg

Rating: Mature for content purposes, not smut

Summary:

Peter didn't like thinking of the future. It never ended well or lived up to his expectations.

Sometimes, well, sometimes he had to.

Peter sat in the backseat of the car, staring out the window with his eyes squinted against the harsh morning light. A dull thud had started sounding through his head, but for some reason, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

He wasn’t quite sure what was different about it today. It was the same sun he’d looked at day after day, forever unchanging and eternally uncaring.

But something was different.

Maybe it was him, or at least whatever strangeness had started to bubble up within him. He liked to consider himself that was easily content with the flow of life, but recently he couldn’t be more pissed with it.

The car came to a sudden stop and he clamped his palm over his mouth in a futile effort to combat the sudden nausea. Everything was always too much now, too loud, too bright, too intense.

The little tree hanging down from the rearview mirror didn’t help. It was supposed to smell like black ice.

Peter didn’t like to think about black ice too much. Just like he didn’t like to think about himself either nowadays.

Thinking about the immediate future was simple.

This current immediate future was easy too. They were coming up on a corner, the car would turn, and he would get out. He’d grab his duffel bag, and be as polite as he could manage.

Then well – that was a different future.

The turn came up, and he reached down to grip the handles of his bag. This part went as planned at least.

But then he was staring up at the townhouse in front of him, chewing on the inside of his lip like it would have all the answers.

He took in a deep breath and thought of his social worker’s email. It came to mind, a clear image of what it looked like the last time he’d read it.

Internally reciting the instructions, he made his way to the gate. The townhouse was large, looked at least four floors high, and had a bay window on each floor after the first.

His feet shuffled up the steps infuriatingly slow.

Now, he let himself think of what kind of impression he would make. His hair had gone unwashed for weeks, there were more than a few stains and a couple of holes on his sweats, and the entirety of his life had been condensed down into a duffel bag with his foster agency’s name printed on the side.

Without warning, the door was yanked open the second he reached the top of the steps.

Inside was one of his new alphas. Beard and surprisingly dark hair aside, Peter couldn’t help but compare the man in front of him with the man on the cover of his high school history book.

“Come on in,” Steve Rogers grunted, leaning to give Peter space. The inside of the townhouse looked even more opulent than the outside had suggested. The ceilings were ridiculously high, there was a glass chandelier hanging above what he guessed was the living room off to his right. He felt like he’d stepped into a magazine cutout – or a housewife’s wet dream.

Peter was led down the hall and toward another staircase, forcing his eyes to stay glued to the space around him rather than looking directly at the man in front of him.

They ended up inside the second kitchen Peter noticed, and another alpha was already sitting at the breakfast table. His posture was ramrod straight, palms placed carefully on the table in front of him, and his eyes were locked on Peter.

At the center of the table was an assortment of food, something Peter expected to see at a conference or business meeting.

“We wanted to get started with setting some uh,” the first alpha – Captain fucking America – started, “house rules. They’re more an expectations and boundaries sort of thing.”

Peter nodded, trying to pour his attention into it. He couldn’t afford to forget anything. Though his words sounded scripted like this was the start of a speech he’d tried and mostly failed to memorize.

“The most important thing is that at least one other person will know where you are, and where you plan on going. Most of these expectations are also expected of Bucky and I. It doesn’t mean you don’t have free reign over where you go. As long as it isn’t something that needs to be cleared by the social worker just let one of us know. If both of us are out, we’ll tell you as much as we can about where we are and how long we’ll be gone.” Here, he paused as if waiting for someone to drop from the ceiling and interject.

“The second is that we respect each other’s space. Aside from common areas, bedrooms, and private rooms like my office or studio, all need permission to be entered. No one will go into your room or the nursery without permission and we expect the same in return.”

Peter nodded again, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with doubt. This all sounded too easy, too simple.

But–

Immediate future first.

“The last is about self-care. All of the food in any of the refrigerators in a common space is available for you, and we expect you to keep up with any doctor’s appointments or speak out if you need something you have not been provided with. We purchased a few things for you that’ll be in your room but aside from that we’ll give you a credit card to use for anything else you need.” He paused then, looking around like a wild animal waiting to return to hiding.

“Do you have any questions?” The words felt forced like Peter was holding a gun to his head or physically dragging them from his throat.

“What do you want from me?” He asked, then cursed himself. He’d promised that he wouldn’t bring up anything that hadn’t already been brought up.

But he couldn’t help but think that the alphas wanted more than a housemate. To take a pregnant, orphaned omega home was ridiculous as is. To do it without wanting something in exchange was even crazier. His last foster mother had been an older woman who had too many kids in the house and needed another adult’s hands in the mix. The one before that had wanted–

Peter just needed to know what they wanted from him.

“I’m fucked in the head,” the other alpha’s words were said so quietly Peter almost had to strain to hear, “so’s he, and having you around is supposed to help with that. You’re a prescription. Not a fucking toy.”

Peter nodded, digging his short nails into his palms.

In a sudden burst of movement Bucky – Steve had called him – pushed himself from the table and stomped toward the hallway off to their left.

Steve rubbed a hand over his tired face, one of the only movements he’d made since they sat down.

“We’re all here to help each other, Peter. We all have something to gain and not much to lose. Come, I’ll give you the tour.”

As they walked around the gigantic house, Peter couldn’t help but think that those were some of the only genuine words he’d heard said aloud in a long, long, time.

The only issue with them was that he had an entire world to lose.

~~~~

As Peter lay in bed, completely showered for the first time in what felt like years, he rested a hand on the lowest part of his torso.

The skin under his hand had grown taught, and he had more stretch marks than he could count if he tried.

He didn’t break his rule yet, didn’t dare ponder the what-ifs or let the tentative bit of hope that had bubbled up in his chest surge forward.

But he put his hand over his baby, and let himself dream that the tiny thing inside of him would be happy one day.

A small, barely there tap against his hand was his answer.

~~~~

Time passed oddly in the gigantic townhouse. It felt like the weeks he’d been there were months. The living room window had a perfect view of Prospect Park, and Peter couldn’t help but stare at it – he had no real memories tied to the park, but it still made him feel nostalgic for someone whose visage had started going hazy at the edges.

Peter had forced himself to be content with sitting in the surprisingly small backyard, but he itched to go out into real nature.

One morning, after a particularly vivid nightmare, he dressed himself in the lightest outfit he owned and cautiously approached Bucky.

They hadn’t spoken much aside from pleasantries. Steve always asked him to join them for dinner, so they’d mostly ask each other some variation of “Can you pass me that.”

Steve hadn’t been much better, but he would at least pretend holding a conversation with Peter was pleasant.

Bucky, well on the days that Peter saw him, he’d be sitting stock still, looking either at nothing or everything at once.

“Can I–” Normally, if someone had that look in their eye, Peter would try to make some noise to tell them he was in the room.

Bucky always knew where he was.

“Is it okay if I go to the park for a bit?” He finished, wringing his fingers in the hem of his shirt. He never had to tell anyone about therapy or doctor’s appointments. Steve always bought it up at some point either that day or the night before, and he was always sent off and picked up in a taxi they ordered.

Bucky missed his next inhale, clenched the fingers of his metal hand, then nodded.

Peter nodded as well, itching to flee but worried Bucky would have something to say and he’d miss it.

The alpha tapped his index finger against his knee three times before taking in a slow breath through his mouth.

“Here,” he grunted at last, then pulled a wad of twenties from his pocket and held them in Peter’s direction.

A protest formed on the tip of his tongue, but it died down quickly and he took the bills with a muttered thanks.

He didn’t bring anything with him, so laying on an unoccupied spot of grass wasn’t as comfortable as he thought it’d be.

Around him, the park was filled with sounds that reminded him of another life. Children were laughing and squealing, a group of teenagers was comforting a sobbing beta girl, and dogs roamed the area.

Head tilted back, he decided that the sun looked different again. It didn’t hurt his eyes this time.

He lay there until he heard the ice cream truck not far from him. There wasn’t much of a line yet, and he got up to wait behind a few nannies.

It was the first craving that he’d really had – the first that he’d actually listened to.

He even got sprinkles.

And it was the best ice cream he’d ever fucking tasted.

~~~~

His nightmares grew less frequent, but somehow worse at the same time.

Instead of just dreaming of those nights, the memories twisted in on themselves and turned against him.

May, instead of shouting futile reassurances cursed and blamed him. Uncle Ben’s dead body turned its head one final time to spit vitriol.

Peter stayed in bed those days, scared to close his eyes but unprepared to face the small world outside his door.

One night one car crash melded with another, faces and seasons blended together, and Peter woke himself up screaming.

His stomach was rolling, his heart was racing, and all he wanted was for everything to stop.

And god part of him wished he could stop.

“Hey Peter,” he heard from the other side of his door.

He didn’t answer, his skin was too tight, and he was choking down screams that were begging to be set free. His body hurt in ways it hadn’t in months.

He was scared that if he looked down at his legs he’d see sharp white bone instead of skin.

Even if he could speak he didn’t know what he’d say.

“I don’t know what you dreamed about,” Steve continued, “but I know that it’s only the bad ones that make me scream like that. And sometimes it helps to know that there’s someone on the other side of it hoping for you to pull through.”

Peter choked on his next sob, hating how much he felt like the little kid he’d been when he got the news of the first crash.

Hating how much he wanted his mom.

“Can I open the door, Peter?”

He nodded, hating how much he wanted more. He wanted a fucking hug but his skin was too tight, the space was the only place in the house that didn’t smell like alphas, he couldn’t let them see him–

“Yeah,” he said when he realized Steve wouldn’t see his nod.

And the alpha was right there, looking patient and with such a genuinely kind expression that Peter wanted to rip his face off.

Steve had been so cagey, so unsure, but a crying omega would make anyone feel pity.

And how Peter hated pity.

He had enough for himself.

But fuck did he want a hug.

“I don’t have to come in, I can stay right here.” Peter really wanted to rip his face off now, because that sounded so perfect that Peter could barely comprehend it.

“Bucky was a bit– he was kinda slutty when he felt like it. So well, one time between us wanting to stuff our faces full of hot dogs and him wanting to impress a girl we had to hitch a ride back from Coney Island on an ice cream truck.”

Peter’s sobs stilled as he focused on Steve’s calm, level voice.

“The jerk barely even won the stuffed animal for her. He spent, god, probably sixty bucks in today’s money trying to win that thing.”

Steve sat down against the wall opposite the door and opened his mouth to either continue the story or start another one.

Bucky came into Peter’s view and placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You can’t just make me look bad. Now I gotta tell him about how we spent a bunch of money on food for you to waste it hurling after we rode the cyclone.” He got comfortable leaning against Steve’s side, eyes fixed intently on Peter.

“Ever rode the cyclone?” Peter shook his head, but Bucky plowed on nonetheless, painting a vivid image of the rollercoaster’s first opening day.

They told him stories of swing dancing, late-night talks on fire escapes, running away from gay bars when the cops got called, and so many more that Peter tried to commit to memory. They talked and talked, and eventually, Peter felt his eyes shut.

His dreams were of good memories that time.

He dreamt of his mom’s hugs.

~~~~

Wandering around the townhouse seemed like a pointless venture. He’d already seen most of it, but it looked different.

At this time of night, the dark hallways made the ceilings look higher, the space so vast that it was intimidating. He had an indescribable restlessness within him though, and he couldn’t bring himself to go back to his room.

Bucky and Steve had been gone for days, on some mission that they couldn’t tell him about. All he’d been told was that they were in Russia – and according to Steve, even that was too much information.

Frustrated, he slumped over the kitchen island, debating the merits of going out for a walk.

The oven clock glared at him, and he contented himself with groaning into his arms.

Peter was tired, restless, and –

He kind of wanted Chinese food.

Decision made, he reached for his phone, hoping futilely that there would be a Chinese restaurant open.

Once he found one, he keyed in their regular order accidentally. Peter froze once he realized, then cursed and ordered it anyway. They were supposed to be home soon, and he could always make his way through the leftovers if–

Too far.

Peter didn’t want to think about when they’d come back to the townhouse, or what shape they’d be in.

They hadn’t gone on a mission in the entire time he’d been staying with them. The most they’d done was go to work meetings and even those were infrequent.

He occupied himself with a book, sitting in the window seat after finally turning some lights on.

It was a book on the rise and fall of political structures in Eastern Europe – something Peter would have never imagined himself being willing to read. Oddly enough, it was interesting, just not enough to occupy his mind.

His thoughts continued to wander, no matter how much he tried to stop them. He wound up pressing his palms to his eyes and taking as slow breaths as he could.

When his phone buzzed with the delivery notification, he slowly made his way down the stairs. His body hurt, and his knee throbbed so hard Peter could feel it reverberate up and down his leg.

On days like this, he walked with a small limp. Since his center of gravity had shifted, he felt like he had no way to comfortably compensate for the aching leg. It was an odd sensation that made him want to drag his leg behind him rather than put weight on it.

He heard the sound of the door open as he approached the bottom of the steps and froze, fear flashing through his body.

Bucky came into view first, dressed like – like a fucking spy straight from an action movie – holding two over-filled bags of food.

“Hi, doll.”

~~~~

Peter didn’t particularly enjoy going to the doctor’s office. His OBGYN was a fairly kind alpha woman, with streaks of grey spread throughout her long black hair.

She had her moments, would be fairly kind to him one appointment then condescending another. It didn’t help that he’d been seeing her for regular checkups since he presented.

Dr. Garcia was one of the only people still in his life who had met May and Ben.

And she insisted on meeting Bucky and Steve.

The two alphas looked comical, sitting in the small plastic chairs of the sonogram room. Bucky looked as haunted as he ever did, but somehow his frantic energy looked more excited than it did frightened.

Steve wasn’t even pretending to be stoic, squeezing Bucky’s metal hand and smiling as broadly as Peter had ever seen him.

Peter didn’t get it.

Sure, they spoke more now than they had before, and sometimes Steve and he cooked together, or Bucky and he would lay in the grass in the park together, or–

Fuck

Peter blinked the thoughts away, refusing to entertain the idea that he was starting to become friends with them or worse –

“So,” Dr. Garcia started, slathering Peter’s belly in gel, “before I spoil it, I want to hear if we have any guesses.”

Peter sighed, then looked back at the alpha pair. Steve was shaking his head and Bucky was staring intently at the sonogram screen. It wasn’t his first chance at learning his baby’s gender. The first opportunity came weeks ago when other genetic testing was done.

He’d said no, he wasn’t sure why he’d said yes this time.

“I say girl.”

“Let’s see if mother’s intuition is right,” she put the doppler on his belly, moved it around a bit, then paused.

She fiddled with the machine with her free hand, and the heartbeat sounded in the otherwise quiet room.

The doctor muttered something, moving the doppler this way and that before pausing.

“What is it?” Steve piped up.

“No,” Peter interjected before the doctor could answer.

“I’m so sorry Peter, I have no clue how we missed this.” She pressed the doppler against the front of his stomach, “Everyone meet Baby A, a beautiful little girl,” She shifted around to nearly his rib cage, “And Baby B, a handsome little boy.”

Baby B was almost completely hidden behind his sister, and they could barely see his silhouette.

“Baby A looks perfectly healthy, but I want to bump up your next appointment so we can try and get a better look at B. This changes your due date a bit too. I’d put you closer to twenty than twenty-four weeks now.”

Her cleanup was fast and brusque, and she handed Peter the pictures she’d printed without another word.

“That was fun,” Peter announced when she left, wiping away at his stomach. It made sense, in a way. His stomach was a bit too big for only six months, and he never quite felt movement in the same spot at once.

They left the doctor’s office, Steve still clutching Bucky’s hand.

“We’re gonna need a lot of diapers,” he mused when they reached the car.

Peter froze, “Well, not too much stuff. Not until they’re born.” He felt guilty about how much money they’d already spent on him, but this wasn’t about the money.

His parents didn’t believe in buying too many things for the baby, and he was always taught that it could bring bad luck. He didn’t hold onto many superstitions anymore but couldn’t bear the thought of bringing more bad luck down on himself.

“It’s bad luck to put up the crib too soon,” Bucky added.

“Between the three of us, our luck is already pretty bad. The least we can do is avoid bringing in any more.”

Peter laughed a rough and ugly sound. It was like Steve had read his mind.

“Chinese or Mexican?” He asked. Dinner was an easier thing to think about right now, with so many people walking around and doing double takes at Steve’s face.

“Chinese and picnic?” Bucky offered.

Steve called to put in the order once they’d settled into the car. Peter never felt right about being in cars anymore. They always made him uneasy and put him on edge. For months he’d refused to entertain the idea of getting into one and had insisted on walking or taking the train wherever he went.

For whatever reason, longer car rides were easier. Maybe it was because he needed a way to justify them.

He hadn’t driven much with Steve or Bucky in the driver’s seat. It was rare that they’d all go somewhere that they couldn’t walk to.

Peter couldn’t stop thinking about how excited they’d been, how eager they seemed even now. It was a quiet joy, one that Peter might have missed if he hadn’t gotten used to how muted their emotions almost always were.

It distracted him from the car ride, and he let himself think of the future – if only for the moment.

They’d be good for the babies. Bucky would take them to the park and Steve would be calm while they raged and screamed at night.

Peter didn’t know how he’d be. He hoped he could grow accustomed to the sleeplessness and prayed that he could smile at them.

He was terrified of the worst, that ACS would deem him and the home unfit, that he’d fuck up and get kicked out of the house, and anything in between.

Peter didn’t want to think about it too hard this time.

He was having twins. A year ago, he would have laughed at the idea.

He still wanted to laugh at the idea, wanted to pretend that it wasn’t real. If he tried hard enough, he could almost convince himself that he’d wake up in the morning in his twin sized bed at the apartment he’d shared with Ben and May. He could almost pretend he was still dancing, still practicing for a future that wasn’t his anymore.

But he knew he couldn’t pretend anymore. Thinking of the what-ifs had never helped him, and the little sonogram picture in his hand knew just how true that was.

#belle writes #peter parker #bucky barnes #steve rogers #avengers #marvel #omegaverse #omega peter #alpha steve #alpha bucky

16 notes · View notes

alyhorse6 · 8 months

Text

I’ll See You Sunday

AN: I promise I’m working on any requests I have rn, but this hit me and I needed to get it down. This fic was 100% inspired by the fanart above by @lightsintheskye 🫡

AU Context/synopsis: Annette and William are both renowned medical professionals. Annette is a cardiothoracic surgeon, William is a cancer researcher, Wesker is still the captain of S.T.A.R.S. (except he's loyal and doesn't have ill intentions), and Y/n is a S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team Member. Y/n and Wesker are particularly close. One night Annette & William have a highly honored banquet/award ceremony to attend and need someone to look over little Sherry for the evening. Surely Uncle Albert would be willing to help them out…

Warnings: These characters are nothing like their in-game personalities, but it’s my AU and I do what I want, intense fluff🤧

————————————————————————

It was around 3:30 in the afternoon when Wesker received a text from his stepbrother William asking him if he would be available to watch his niece. He didn’t open the message at first, instead, he panicked and texted one of his closest friends for help.

•*•*•*•

Are you available tonight?: Wesker

Y/n: Yeah… why?

I have an emergency: Wesker

Y/n: What happened?

William asked me to babysit Sherry, but I have no clue what to do with a kid: Wesker

Y/n: Albert Wesker. Are you kidding me.

What??: Wesker

Y/n: You said an emergency!

This is an emergency!: Wesker

Y/n: Whatever. What do you need me for?

I need you to come help me :): Wesker

Y/n: Aye aye, Captain🫡

Don’t mock me😑: Wesker

•*•*•*•

After speaking with Y/n, Wesker agreed to do it. William instructed him to arrive no later than 5:30, giving Wesker only 20 minutes to fly across town from the Police Station to the Birkins’ penthouse. In all honesty, Wesker dreaded this whole experience. It had nothing to do with Sherry, she was an angel, but something told him that it would be a long night.

He made it to the complex at 5:25 pm, relieved that he hadn't encountered any traffic police on his route. To meet his deadline, he drove at 35 miles per hour, which was 10 miles above the speed limit, through the bustling and chaotic streets of Raccoon City. In a hurry, Wesker dashed through the opulent lobby and made a beeline for the elevators, frantically hitting the up button. As soon as the elevator chimed, he strode in, elated to find it empty. He punched the button for the top floor, relaxed his body, and leaned against the back wall. Gradually, the elevator began its smooth ascent to the desired floor. The elevator came to a stop with a low hum, and the number "35" glowed brightly in the top right corner on a small screen. Wesker stepped out of the elevator and found himself in the entry room of the penthouse.

•*•*•*•

When do you think you'll be here?: Wesker

Y/n: I should be at the complex in ten

I'll see you when you get here: Wesker

•*•*•*•

Wesker waltzed up to the elaborate double doors that led into the home. He breathed in and held it as he knocked firmly, desperate to just get in and get his step-brother and his wife out and on their way to their banquet.

William greeted Albert with a warm smile as he answered the door, "Hey there, Albert! It's great to see you again!"

Wesker forced a smile, deeply unappreciative of the use of his first name, “Hey Will.”

Will leaned in to whisper, “Annette has been freaking out over this whole thing. I don't know if she’s more worried about leaving Sherry for this long or the event in general. This will be the longest we've left Sherry since she was born, but it’s been four months, it's gotta happen sometime.”

“I've got this Will, don’t worry. Plus I'll have help.” Wesker smirked

William narrowed his eyes, “Help? Who've you wrangled into helping you this time?”

“This time?? You say it like I never do anything on my own.” Wesker griped

“Just tell me who it is.” William huffed

Wesker rolled his eyes, “I asked Y/n to help me out.”

“Y/n? Is that the chic from S.T.A.R.S. that you’ve got a crush on?” William snickered

Wesker responded, but not without his jaw dropping slightly, “I do not have a crush on her! Crushes are for kids, which I am not.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you wanna tell yourself,” William smirked

William eventually moved aside and allowed Wesker to enter. As they walked through the front doors, they found themselves in the luxurious living room that could have easily been featured in an exclusive millionaire's catalog. Wesker’s basic apartment looked like a shack compared to this singular room. He'd been here hundreds of times, and yet it never failed to slap him across the face every time he saw it. The room was filled with pretty potted plants, glorious gold detailing, and a coat of the finest beige paint on every wall.

William and Wesker stood around for a few minutes until Annette appeared from the hallway, holding little Sherry in her arms, looking like a munchkin.

“Here she is” Annette greeted with an open-mouthed smile.

Wesker reached a hand out to Sherry, “Hey there! It’s me, Uncle Albert.” The only time Wesker willingly used his first name was with Sherry. She was a weakness.

Sherry cooed a bit and then smiled when she saw her Uncle. Wesker grinned at the little person being so happy to see him. Annette passed the baby to him, and he cradled her softly, swaying back and forth.

“You two better get out of here, your banquet starts at 6:15.” Wesker shooed

William checked his watch and sighed, “I suppose you're right.”

Annette waved Wesker and Sherry goodbye and walked out to the elevator. William quickly turned back around to get one more little jab, “Good luck with your crush Weskie!” He smirked and ran off to join his wife.

Wesker huffed and looked to Sherry, “Don't listen to your silly goose of a father, I do not have a crush.”

Wesker walked toward the living room and sat down before feeling a buzz from his pocket.

•*•*•*•

Y/n: I'm in the lobby coming towards the elevator, make sure I can get in😘

Don’t you worry your pretty head: Wesker

Y/n: Awe you think I’m pretty?🥺

Definitely not.: Wesker

Y/n: And here I was thinking I’d get a date😪

•*•*•*•

About 10 minutes passed before a few soft knocks passed through the door. Wesker got up and opened it greeting Y/n with a kind smile, always unable to help but to smile with her around. Y/n smiled back and waved gently to the man, before giving a little wave and a grin to the adorable baby in his arms.

“Hello there Sherry! I’m Y/n, your Uncle’s friend!” She spoke softly

The infant giggled and smiled at the young woman in front of her. Y/n looked up to Wesker, “Has she ever laughed?? I don’t wanna steal that from her parents!”

“She has don’t worry. She was an early giggler.” Wesker soothed with a small smile. His favorite woman as caring as ever.

The two walked into the penthouse and sat down on the sofa side by side. Wesker would be a lying man if he failed to admit that being with Y/n in this type of setting made his face feel warmer, it was such a rare occasion for him to see Y/n outside of work or a work group. He wanted more of this.

The two sat and talked for a while, Sherry occasionally making sounds from Wesker’s arms, before eventually slowly starting to cry.

“Oh sweetie what’s the matter?!” Y/n fretted

Wesker handed her over to the woman. She didn’t smell, she didn’t seem sleepy, must be hungry. “Hey Wesk, could you heat up a bottle for her?” Y/n asked doe-eyed with worry

“Got it!” Already making his way to the fridge

Y/n followed behind him to the kitchen, delicately bouncing the little one on her hip. Both of the girls watched as Wesker tapped his finger on the counter waiting for the bottle warmer to ding. By now Sherry’s cries had died down some, but she still sniffled and shook in infant distress. Finally, the ding sounded through the room and Wesker removed the bottle, then tested the temperature on his hand. It passed the test so he handed it off to Y/n. She walked back over to the sofa and laid Sherry back in her arms, tipping the nub of the bottle to the baby’s mouth. Wesker joined the two and watched as Sherry started eating. Once she seemed content both Wesker and Y/n relaxed back into the cushions. Y/n faintly grinned at Sherry, while behind her Wesker happily grinned at the sight of her and his niece. Sherry stared brightly at Y/n’s face and grasped at her top, satisfied with her bottle.

Some time passed before Sherry finished. Afterward, Y/n burped her and then passed her back over to her Uncle. Wesker let her lay in his arms while the pair talked for a bit. At some point along the way Sherry got a little squirmy in his arms, so Y/n came up with an idea.

Y/n smirked mischievously at Wesker before asking, “Do they have something to play music on?”

“Yeah- why?” He eyed the young woman

“Can you turn on some Disney songs?”

Y/n asked, batting her eyelashes

Wesker handed Sherry back over to Y/n and got up to silently do as he was asked. He couldn’t bring himself to say no to any request Y/n asked of him. The music started, ‘Un Poco Loco’ from the movie Coco playing throughout the room. Y/n stood from her seat and started to bounce and slowly spin around the room while Sherry giggled. Wesker leaned on the counter and watched the two, giggling softly when Sherry slightly kicked her sock-clad feet. Y/n laughed while they danced to the music.

‘A Whole New World’ from Aladdin came on and Y/n looked over to Wesker, “Come dance with us.” A sweet smile on her face

Wesker couldn’t argue. He walked over to the pair and they swayed back and forth. Sherry stared up into her Uncle’s eyes and smiled. He smiled back at her and held her small hand as they swayed. Y/n admired Wesker as he watched his little niece. She couldn’t deny the crush that had formed on her Captain over the years working with him. He was always so kind to her, listening to her every word when they conversed, making her coffee throughout the day, and always greeting her with a smile. She couldn’t help but fall for the handsome young man when he was just so kind to her.

The song has long since changed, but the swaying continued. Over time Sherry grew sleepy, her blinking becoming slow and heavy. The two decided it was time to call it a night for the little one, carrying her to her nursery. Y/n changed Sherry’s diaper and clothes before swaddling her slowly. Wesker watched every step from over Y/n’s shoulder. It might’ve sounded weird to other people, but Wesker wanted something like this with Y/n. He wanted to spend each evening like this. He’d known the young woman for around 5 years now, and although he’d never admitted his feelings or made any moves on her, he liked her a lot. Maybe all the jokes about him crushing were true. He knew he felt differently about her, he just didn’t want to call it a crush and allow it to seem like some childish flit of life. He wanted so desperately to invite Y/n out to dinner, or the movies, or maybe even to stargaze on the outskirts of the city, but he got nervous anytime he thought about it.

Y/n slowly lowered Sherry into her crib, brushing some stray hairs out of her face once she relaxed into the mattress. She stepped out of the way and allowed Wesker to give her a small kiss on her forehead before they left the room. The two walked down the hall back out to the living room, opting to sit out on the roof to enjoy the warm evening air. They sat next to each other in the cushioned chairs and talked. They talked about work, their personal lives, anything. Eventually, it started to get a bit too windy to sit outside anymore, so they went back into the living room. They watched whatever random movie was on, but eventually, Y/n got sleepy too, her head slowly slipping down onto Wesker’s shoulder. He noticed as soon as it happened, looking down and smiling at the tired woman next to him.

They stayed like that for a good while. Peaceful, Sherry sleeping soundly in her room. Somewhere around 12:30, the hushed sound of the front door being unlocked could be heard. Annette and William quietly walked in, not wanting to wake their daughter. Annette immediately went to check on her baby girl, while William just silently smirked at his stepbrother. Wesker waved him off, and he left the two to join his wife in the nursery. Wesker sighed lowly, dreading the thought of waking Y/n up and this moment with her ending. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head softly, before quietly calling her name to wake her. The woman stirred lightly, slowly opening her eyes and looking around.

She came back to the present when she spotted Weaker and smiled gently, “Hi”

“Hi” he whispered back with a small grin

Y/n sat up slowly, stretching her arms and yawning along the way. She looked back over to Wesker, dreading the idea of getting up.

“I'll walk you to your car,” he murmured

Y/n hummed lowly, “Yes, please.”

The two stood from the sofa and walked out to the elevator. The ride down to the lobby was slow. Wesker chewed on the inside of his cheek, debating on whether he should ask Y/n out to dinner. The elevator dinged, signaling their arrival to the lobby. They walked over to the garage elevator and descended to their cars. Wesker walked Y/n to her car, he could tell she was still kind of sleepy.

“Do want me to just give you a ride home? You're sleepy and I want you to be safe,” he offered

Y/n looked over at him and blushed, “I'll be okay, thank you though.”

“Well… could I at least maybe take you to dinner? Just you and me,” he mumbled sheepishly

A smile spread on Y/n’s face as her blush grew, “I'd like that a lot”

Wesker smiled giddily, “Sunday… pick you up at 5:30?”

“It's a date!” Y/n cheered, turning to face the man next to her as they reached her car door

“It’s a date” Wesker mirrored

The two smiled at each other for a minute. Y/n speaking up first, “I suppose I better go home and get to bed…”

“You get your rest Y/n, sleep well.” Wesker agreed

Y/n smiled up at him, “You sleep too Wesk. I need you rested for our date”

Wesker grinned back at the young woman in front of him, “Bye my dear, I’ll see you Sunday.”

“Bye Wesk, I’ll see you Sunday.”

————————————————————————

AN: Should I continue this AU? And if so, if any of you guys have any name suggestions for the AU either comment them or send them in my ask box. Bye Angels!🤍

#soft albert wesker i repeat soft albert wesker #i need more soft wesker #please #resident evil x reader #resident evil wesker #resident evil #resident evil au #wesker x reader #albert wesker

28 notes · View notes

desperatelyseekingcannibals · 7 months

Text

Playing Games (Hannigram + Le Chiffre) - Shortfic

Explicit // M/M, Multi // Hannibal/Will, Will/Le Chiffre (Casino Royale), background Le Chiffre/Adam Towers // Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Hannibal, Alpha Le Chiffre, Omega Will, multisex omega, established relationship, established Hannigram, cuckolding, consensual infidelity, doppelganger, role playing, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, knotting, squirting, regret, praise kink, manipulation, everyone has a variety of feels.

Part 8 of the Plaything Series, sequel to Playtime and Roleplay

Will wants a threesome, Hannibal agrees as long as he can choose the other alpha.

Playing Games (2.7K words):

At first, as he knew he would, Hannibal had baulked at Will’s suggestion of a threesome.

It had taken weeks to plant the seed of the idea, whispering dirty suggestions into Hannibal’s ear as they fucked.

Imagine how tight I’d be for you if someone was in my ass whilst you’re fucking me.

Imagine how jealous they’d be if they had to watch you make me come.

Imagine what it would feel like to let them use me like a whore, even though you know I’m yours. Only yours.

And even then, as much as his cock twitched at the words as he rode him, Hannibal resisted.

“It’s not that you’re not enough, Alpha” Will reassured with a purr. “I just get so wet thinking about you watching me get fucked.”

“Hmm,” Hannibal huffed, “I never took you for someone interested in cuckolding.”

“Not cuckolding,” Will protested gently as he slid up and down Hannibal’s cock, “You always say how beautiful I look when I’m being fucked and I want to give you the optimum view.”

He felt Hannibal swell, and he pushed down hard, taking Hannibal’s knot inside him.

“I choose the alpha,” Hannibal said, holding Will’s hips as he began to fuck up into him.

Will nodded as he writhed and panted, meeting each thrust until Hannibal’s knot was buried deep and they were tied.

------

Will picked up the note next to the bottle of champagne on the sideboard in the beautiful hotel room that Hannibal had booked for the occasion.

He would only let Will know the time and date that their tryst was to take place. No other details, and so far nothing had surprised Will - the opulent hotel, the exquisite suite, the champagne. Not even the note that told him that Hannibal would be arriving a little later, encouraging Will to have a glass of champagne and take a bath - make himself comfortable.

With a smile, Will did as bid.

He was towel drying his hair, dressed in a luxurious fluffy hotel robe, when he heard the door to the suite open.

“Bit overboard isn’t it?” He called out into the suite’s lovely reception room. “We could have gone to a hotel that charges by the hour.” Will chuckled as he walked out of the bathroom and immediately stopped-- finally surprised.

“Mr Graham, you look just like the photo your husband supplied.”

Continue on AO3

#hannibal #hannigram #fanfic #mads mikkelsen #hugh dancy #will graham #hannibal lecter #myfic #omegaverse #alpha le chiffre #Chiffregram

18 notes · View notes

rookthorne · 9 months

Text

The round up for Day 2 of my Merry Buckmas event, and the prompt:

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── 𝐊𝐄𝐘 ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

— 𝐀 = angst — 𝐖 = whump — 𝐈 = sick fic — 𝐃 = dark — 𝐃² = dead dove — 𝐏 = poly — 𝐊 = kid fic — 𝐅 = fluff — 𝐒 = smut

�� 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 of 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 '𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡

Farmer!Husband!Bucky x Wife!F!Reader

𝐅

You knew very well that your husband was up to something ever since he woke up before the crack of dawn to sneak out of the bedroom, but he wasn’t alone — there were two trouble makers in on the mischief.

— 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐚 of 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲

Firemen!Stucky x F!Reader

𝐏 + 𝐅

A day at the station reveals more truth than you could have ever imagined — not in the presence of your boys and little ones, or how they were so gentle with the young ones in their joy for festivities.

— 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 of 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Lumberjack!Bucky x F!Reader

𝐅

You were expecting it to be an ordinary day; prepare for the festivities with Koda and Sarge by your side, begging for treats and whatever else they set their eyes on. But what you did not expect, was to do so, with two reindeers in tow.

— 𝐃𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 of 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬

Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader

𝐅

Opulence was so readily and freely available to you in your lifestyle, and you had your love to thank for that. Of course, that meant you were going to find him the most dashing present, and spend a fortune on it, whether he liked the pop of colour, or not.

— 𝐎𝐡, 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥 of 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐭

Alpha!Mafia!Bucky x Omega!F!Reader

𝐅

The love that Bucky and you shared was unparalleled, unlike anything you had ever felt before. It was a joy to witness and be a part of the tender side of the otherwise ruthless and effective Mafia King. And on that day, it was no different — playing your cherished role had never been so fulfilling.

— 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫 of 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

Pornstar!Bucky x F!Reader

𝐅

Christmas was a time for gifts and giving; of sharing with those you loved with all of your heart. Bucky was one of the lucky ones, and you had the most perfect gift for him.

— 𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 of 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

Scare Actor!Bucky x F!Reader

𝐅

The festive additions to Bucky’s Soldat costume had been a genius idea, you only had to work out the best way to bribe your boyfriend to go along with it, first.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #MB #rookthorne's works

30 notes · View notes

rametarin · 3 months

Text

The only true difference between a socialist revolutionary, and a fascist:

Pretention. You can't even say they necessarily read different literature. One just has allusions of transitioning to an automated enlightened human hivemind where "society" decides, and the other imagines the most Sigma Alpha Chad dictator for life in power, calling the shots by way of military rule. Both pretend that these are any different from having a state dictating the rights of the individual through violence and mob rule arbitrarily.

In the end it just comes down to space cults that want unobtainable dreams, motivated by egotistical ambitions and an infinite supply of, "I'm right," vs. honest and disgusting, "I'm right, because I have the gun," and terminates in tin pot dictators in opulent palaces or bunkers or opulent bunkers, surrounded by terrified yes men and lower orderlies, while what amount to serfs under the threat of the sword live out their day to day lives terrified of the upper eschelons bullets and deprivations in a backwards arrived form of monarchism and/or imperialism.

Exhausted by so many mental gymnastics that they genuinely believe even a shitty life under this tin pot dictator with all the little people forced to participate and do things or else the government will take the peace away from them or their families, is somehow better than a "bourgoise, decadent," life under "wasteful, unequal" capitalism.

Different shades of shit produced by the same asshole, insisting that the other is shit but they are delicious chocolate mousse, and insisting that they're nothing alike. That they're antithesis of the other, rather than just two sides of the same stupid coin with little difference but how they decorate their dwellings and vehicles and what symbology they use and what quotes they hang on the wall. That if you aren't siding with one, you must have sympathies for the other, rather than being so far beyond this stupid binary to superior systems they can't stand it.

They can give you a whole slew of puffed up reasons why they hate the other, but in the end, it's just self-flattery. In the end, socialism and fascism despise one another not for any true differences in outcomes or belief, but because they're competing for totalitarian power, and don't want to share.

And that's why liberal capitalism will win, by itself or in competition with these losers. Every single time. "My opponent won't do the heavy lifting for me to have a chance, so I need to take over their resources and property" is not a winning argument for how good your system is, my dude.

9 notes · View notes

lemonluvgirl · 1 year

Text

The Designation Games (Part 2)

Ya’ll are in luck, I busted my butt this weekend to not only revamp this story, and edit it, but I also wrote another chapter/part. And I added some typical Alpha/Omega smut adjacent behavior! Enjoy, your thirsty babies ;)

The Remake Center was everything Haymitch had warned them it would be and more.

After a long day of being poked, prodded, tested, waxed, plucked, and scrubbed to near death, She, and all the other tributes were released back to their rooms at the training facility. The preps explained it was so they could eat and rest and talk strategy with their mentors until the next morning when they would meet their stylists and receive the results of their genetic testing.

Katniss did her best to remain cooperative when the strange people who made up her ‘prep team’ worked on her body. They were like a trio of colorful birds who flitted about with their strange tools and chirped in their odd Capitol accents. They were all betas and didn’t make one comment about her designation. They were too preoccupied with the sorry state of her nail beds and her split ends.

Things Katniss had never had cause to fuss over in her life before. They complimented her in the end though and said she was a change of pace to work on because she never complained. After she thanked them for their services and they gushed over her. She had a feeling she had made allies of them or at least endeared them to herself. And while she didn’t think they would be of any help when she was in the arena she also acknowledged the fact that acting agreeable could be of some benefit in the week preceding the start of the Games. These were the people in charge of making her look presentable to the Capitol audiences, which in turn helped her garner sponsors. So she took Haymitch’s advice and didn’t fight them, even when they poured hot wax on her legs and yanked out the hairs section by section.

Later, at dinner, with Haymitch, Peeta, and their escort, Effie, she tried to pace herself in between courses.

While the dining on the train had been lavish, here in the tribute center it was even more opulent. The meal was an entire affair, with things like appetizers, and something called hors d'oeuvres, salad, and soup courses. All that before even getting to the main course. Then there was dessert. By the time it was over, she was relieved to not feel sick again like she had the first night on the train.

Everyone made small talk, about the prepping process, and Katniss and Peeta had informed Haymitch that they followed his instructions to the letter.

“Good, because the preps report to the stylists and they can make or break you come time for the interviews. You need to stay on their good sides.” Haymitch cautioned as he placed a hand over the top of his drink when an Avox, a mute demi-human servant, came over to try and refill his glass.

It made Katniss feel slightly better to see Haymitch taking it easy on the drinking, and focusing more on the conversation.

She hoped things would stay that way throughout the next few days while they prepared for the Games.

When Haymitch invited them to the roof for a nightcap, she almost declined out of principle, but Haymitch practically ordered her to accompany him and Peeta. Effie was miffed about being excluded but Haymitch put her off, citing mentor/tribute privilege.

When they finally got up to the roof, it was late and Katniss was disappointed to see that the stars were rendered almost invisible by the brightness of the Capitol lights. The sight made her chest ache with a longing for home so acute that she had to stifle a small whimper. She felt more than heard Peeta shifting closer to her, maybe alerted to something in her scent that signaled distress.

Katniss almost groaned in frustration. She didn’t want him hovering, worrying about her like she was some weak and pathetic creature just because of her designation. But at the same time, something inside her felt pulled towards him and his rich and calming scent, like she was on an invisible string. It was a concerted effort to remain as she was. She didn’t want to shrink in fear, or approach in curiosity. Still, she felt Peeta studying her as if searching for the slightest change in her demeanor.

“Alright, so I figured it was time for us three to have some more honest talk.” Haymitch began, getting her attention as he beckoned them over to a section of the roof that contained a small garden replete with windchimes.

He took out a flask and then produced two small tea cups from his coat pockets. He proceeded to unscrew the cap on his flask and tip it into the first cup, filling it midway with some kind of light brown liquid.

“Drink this.” He said, passing the cup to Peeta. Peeta took it gingerly, careful not to spill but he didn’t immediately drink it either. Haymitch didn’t bother repeating his instruction, but went on to pour some liquid into the second cup and then he extended his arm to offer the cup to Katniss.

She automatically shook her head. She felt her skin pimple into goosebumps with awareness like it did whenever she felt danger or risk had entered a situation.

“I don’t want it.” She said in refusal.

Haymitch made an impatient noise and thrust the cup at her, barely managing to not spill the contents.

“Just drink it.” He ordered. She frowned, and opened her mouth to argue, but was cut off.

“We already had wine with dinner, Haymitch.” Peeta protested, seemingly on her behalf. Katniss frowned, formulating a retort in her mind to let Peeta know she didn’t want or need his interference.

“This is the part where you both start trusting your mentor because he knows what the hell he’s doing.” Haymitch asserted in a steely tone and after a moment Katniss reached out and took the cup.

It was lukewarm and only smelled faintly of alcohol.

“What’s in this?” She questioned, unable to help herself.

“Something to calm your nerves. It should help you both concentrate.” Haymitch promised.

She lifted the cup to her nose and underneath the light liquor scent, she detected some familiar notes of herbs and spices. Tea and something else.

“Is it a suppressant?” Peeta asked in a skeptical tone. Katniss’ mind nearly boggled to hear Peeta say the word. Suppressants were illegal, at least in the districts. The Capitol didn’t want their district workforce to have access to anything that could help them hide their Alpha or Omega natures. So no, suppressants were not something brought up in casual conversation.

“Something like that,” Haymitch said before taking a gulp from his own flask. “Don’t worry, it’s perfectly fine here in the Capitol. They give it to us mentors all the time.” He said, then he noticed his tributes’ nervous expressions and he spoke again, “We can speak freely here. The wind and the chimes drown out most listening devices.” Haymitch added.

Katniss breathed in and inhaled the rich and earthy smell of the tea that had been infused with whatever Haymitch kept in his flask. The sharp scent of the middle-aged alpha man in front of her also made its way to her nostrils when she inhaled, plus the deeply distracting but fresh and soothing scent of the young alpha next to her.

The tea itself smelled remarkably similar to the one she remembered her mother brewing at home for her father, in the years before the Capitol found them. Her mother had been a district trained healer before she became an Alpha’s mate. She had a vast knowledge of plants and herbs and the various ways to combine them.

Katniss took a small sip of the tea. Peeta, after seeing her, did the same. Then they all waited. A minute passed by and a slight tingling sensation started on her tongue and made its way down her throat. Then it spread, slowly through her body.

It did make her feel calmer, in a way. The scent of the two Alphas near her became muted and she was able to take deeper breaths. The suppressant in the tea dulled her senses as well, but right now that was what she probably needed. Being in the presence of two alphas was not an everyday occurrence for her. Especially when she felt so out of sorts. She quickly drained her cup dry, diving into the comfort it provided. A few minutes ago she had felt prickly and ready to flee or fight, like her every instinct was heightened and every nerve in her body had been sent on high alert.

But the herbs in the tea helped her to push those clamoring sensations down, and focus. Besides that, the taste reminded her of home.

“What do you know about the different designations?” Their mentor asked, breaking the silence. He was looking at her, not at Peeta. She felt singled out for a moment, but then again, she had been the one who was thrown off the most by her mentor’s discussion of heats and ruts, and the intricacies of Alpha and Omega dynamics.

She looked into his Seam gray eyes and felt placated by the lack of artifice in them.

“I know-” She hesitated, wishing she had paid more attention in her history of designations class when she was in school. She had been too preoccupied with her plans for hunting and foraging. With staying alive.

“I know what everyone knows I guess. What they taught in school. There are three distinct types—alpha, beta, and omega.” She offered.

Haymitch nodded at this but remained silent as if encouraging her to go on. Peeta shifted slightly, turning as if to get a better view of her while she spoke. It almost made her scowl, but she resisted the urge. Determined to ignore it, and answer the question, she focused on Haymitch.

After a moment she resumed.

“Designations were the reason for the catastrophes that destroyed the modern world in the previous era. They caused wars and unrest and the human race tore itself to pieces because alphas and omegas couldn’t suppress their savage natures. The Capitol says that’s why they can’t allow alphas and omegas to live among betas. That’s why they are reaped for the Designation Games. To weed out the unmanageable ones. To keep the beta population safe from violence and savagery.” She says in an almost rote tone, something she memorized to pass an examination, but never took to heart. The words leave a bad taste in her mouth.

Her father was an alpha and he hadn’t been a mindless, violent savage. Neither had her mother been a hapless Omega slave he ordered about. They had been a man and woman, human as any other. Who loved each other and their family.

The fact that others like them were reaped and forced to fight to the death savagely, simply for being born something other than a beta, wasn’t a flaw of designation, it was the error of those who came up with the Games and those who perpetuated them. Anyone would fight to preserve their life. Alpha, omega, or beta alike.

“Did you know that everyone alive today has an alpha or omega in their ancestry? And you don’t even need to go back very far. As little as four generations in most people.” Haymitch asked before taking a sip from his flask.

Katniss blinked at him, startled.

He ignored her look of shock and forged ahead.

“What they don’t teach in the districts is the history of post-cataclysmic genetics, it's not essential for most of the jobs we do. Miners don’t need advanced schooling to break down rocks. But in the Capitol, the history of designations also comes with a genetics class. Everyone who has gone through secondary school there can tell you that alphas and omegas make up an integral part of the population. Something like 60 to 70%.”

“But that’s just not possible,” Peeta said, taking the words right out of her mouth.

“It is actually because it’s not their primary designation. It’s their secondary designation. Their dormant designation.” Haymitch disclosed quietly.

“Wait, what? How can someone have two designations? And how can one of them be what did you say--dormant?” Peeta said in a bewildered tone while Katniss stood in stunned silence.

“After the catastrophe that destroyed North America, the survivors, all the scientists, and leaders did their best to try and correct the problem of designations. They envisioned a world full of betas, without the messiness of alpha and omega instincts. At first, they thought to breed alphas and omegas out of the population entirely, but there weren’t enough people left to successfully eliminate those designations. They needed alphas and omegas, specifically because alphas and omegas are among the most naturally fertile, especially when paired together. So, instead of trying to breed alphas and omegas out, they tried to alter their genetic makeup to bypass their baser instincts. Suppressants only worked as long as alphas and omegas took them and had access to them. Which, in a post-apocalyptic world, that had suffered a major collapse of infrastructure and industry, was not a long-term solution. So the idea was to overwrite alpha and omega DNA with beta DNA and breed a new generation of people who despite their parents’ designations, would never go into heat, or rut, or show signs of being anything other than even-tempered betas.”

“That’s…” Peeta began but trailed off.

“Yes, it's quite the feat of science,” Haymitch said the words with a spiteful sort of sarcasm.

“Wait. How can you tell us all of this? Isn’t it some kind of secret? I mean, why keep it from the people in the district if it's a part of history?” Katniss finally found her voice, and she questioned Haymitch while her eyes narrowed skeptically.

“Well, there are two parts to that answer. Let’s take the easiest one first. It’s not exactly a secret. The information is out there, but not many people are smart enough to connect the dots. I believe they teach something about genetic failure in the school unless things have changed since my day.” Haymitch said arching a brow.

Katniss thought for a moment, she vaguely recalled her monotone history teacher's voice saying something along those lines, and posters in the school hallways encouraging people to make note of their friends and family members’ temperaments in the event of GF.

She nodded, carefully. Beside her, Peeta gave a sound of agreement.

“Right, so, genetic failure occurs when something goes wrong with an individual’s written code. It’s uncontrollable, and it only occurs during the late adolescent stage of development, when a person’s hormones are still fluctuating and unpredictable. That’s why only people between the ages of 16-18 present. There’s a breakdown in the genetic programming that allows the individual’s secondary designation to overcome the beta overlay.” Haymitch explained.

“Oh.” Katniss sat back with a frown. She tried to wrap her mind around the idea that she, and the people like her, her father, mother, Haymitch, and Peeta, had their lives upended and often cut short because of a failure of genetic programming. A failure they had no control over, if what Haymtich was saying was correct.

“So why even have the Games? Why not just round up every person who presents as an alpha or omega and execute them?” She demanded, angrily. Haymitch frowned at her, but after a moment he replied.

“For the same reason that the scientists couldn’t breed alphas and omegas out of the gene pool. We are integral to the population. Without the assistance of alpha and omega fertility, an all-beta population would go extinct within three generations. Society is still recovering from the cataclysms. Our population can only handle so much pruning at this point. We still need alphas and omegas, even those who somehow overcome their genetic programming. They need young alphas and omegas that are bright and capable, smart, and able to curb their instincts as well as utilize them. They need them to win the Games and contribute to the local population.” Haymitch informed.

“Is that why the children of victors are often reaped?” Katniss asked, her voice alight with realization.

“For the most part. Victors tend to have large families, and though the majority of their offspring often turn out beta dominant, there’s always the chance that one or two might present as something else.”

“So that leaves the other half of the question. Why are you telling us this?” Peeta asked.

“All the mentors inform their tributes at some point. Most do it on their first night on the train. Unfortunately, that night I was indisposed.” He paused here, and Katniss is sure they are all recalling how he had gotten so drunk they hadn’t even seen him until the next day.

“But I’m clear-headed enough now, so I thought it best not to beat around the bush any longer.” Haymitch said.

“So all the other tributes will know about dual designations?” Peeta queried in a serious voice.

“Yes. And they’ll be out to play you and your natures against each other. Which is why I want you two to present a united front. This has to look like a team effort, you two are going to be friends, like we talked about. Close friends for the next few days.” Haymitch said in a more commanding tone.

“You want Peeta to put his what where?!” Katniss almost shouted. They had been discussing their strategy for how the two of them would tackle their training session tomorrow.

It would be the first time they met all the other tributes, and Haymitch had some crazy plan that was supposed to create some kind of scent barrier that would keep the other Alphas and Omegas from getting too close.

“Shh.” Haymitch hushed her harshly.

Peeta was already shaking his head.

“I’m not going to do that. That’s—it would be too much, Haymitch!” Peeta replied testily.

Katniss stole a glance at him. The spot of color high on his cheeks told her he was as uncomfortable with this idea as she was.

“You two are the strongest contenders that 12 has produced in years. I can smell how strong you are and I’m old and sloshed more than half the time. Those sharks down there,” Haymitch stopped to point to the floor, and Katniss took his gesture to mean the other tributes who were occupying the floors of the training center below them, “they’ll be able to smell it too. The tributes from the Career districts look for angles to exploit like this. Those with demi-human parentage train at a special academy from the time they’re young. They specifically spend time around other Alphas and Omegas on purpose to prepare for the Games. They desensitize themselves for years until they are basically immune to the opposite gender’s pheromones. And then they volunteer when they turn eighteen. They will single you out, play their little games and force a physical response that will put you at a disadvantage. In the past five years, I’ve had one or both of my tributes sabotaged with premature heat or rut before the gong even sounded. Trust me when I say you don’t want to start off the Games doped up out of your mind on some Capitol concoction to pause a heat or rut, and then be forced to sweat out the meds and wait for your full senses to come back to you. The Careers will get the upper hand and they will hunt you down if you two try to go it alone.” Their mentor told them in a deadly serious tone.

Katniss felt the blood drain from her face as the scenario that Haymitch had just painted sprung to life in her mind. Real terror clawed it's way up her throat.

Peeta appeared beside her, suddenly closer than he had been a second ago, his hand clutching the cup tightly in his grip. A soft growl escaped his lips.

Katniss looked over at him with shock, but he was staring directly at Haymitch, not quite baring his teeth, but it certainly wasn’t a smile that was on his face.

Haymitch merely rolled his eyes, dismissing Peeta’s behavior. Katniss looked down and away from them, fighting the urge to blush. Why did the idea of Peeta growling at Haymitch because of her make her heart race?

“That’s a good start, but save it for training. The wind chimes cover a lot but they don’t cover shouting or fighting. And you better finish drinking your tea boy. No need for all that posturing with me.” Haymitch warned in a half-amused tone.

“Alright, say we believe you about how serious it is that the other tributes will want to sabotage us, what’s to say that Peeta…what did you call it? Scenting me? Won’t do the same thing and trigger a biological response anyway?” Katniss asked, wanting to get off the topic of alpha posturing and back on their strategic planning.

“Because I’ll be here to supervise,” Haymitch replied.

“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or—” Katniss said, uncomfortable with the idea of not only letting Peeta scent her but also with the stipulation that a third party would be present to watch them. It sounded creepy.

“Look, I don’t get off on teenage fumbling if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, you have all the charm of a dead slug, sweetheart. No, I would be there to make sure you two follow instructions and don’t get carried away. Also, I’d be dosing you two with some light suppressants right before each scenting session so your responses would be mitigated.” Haymitch explained.

Katniss bit back a few choice words, especially after hearing him liken her to a dead slug. But the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

What possible reason could Haymitch have for instructing his tributes to bond together in such a way? For all his faults he really didn’t appear to be a pervert. And if Peeta was in the same precarious position she was in, didn’t it make sense for the two of them to help each other?

This was just a strategy.

It was all part of playing the Games.

So if that was true, why did it feel like some insane voice in her head was practically purring at the thought of Peeta rubbing his scent all over her?

“Okay,” Katniss said, almost too quickly.

Haymitch looked over towards Peeta.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Peeta asked Haymitch, voice full of concern.

“Much safer than some random Omega stealthing you with her slick on your scent glad when you’re not looking, boy.” Haymitch replied tersely.

Katniss let out a quiet gasp.

Did Omegas really do that???

She couldn’t even imagine…

Ok, no stop it. She told herself, immediately trying to erase the mental image of rubbing her own wet fingers over the raised, puffy gland on Peeta’s neck.

She was suddenly very glad for the tea Haymitch had given her. In fact, she wondered if he had any more on hand.

Katniss cleared her throat, “So what do we have to do?”

They were directed to sit down beside each other. Peeta led her, hand hovering above the small of her back to the small bench in the rooftop garden.

For the first few minutes, they simply sat next to each other and Haymitch asked them to concentrate on each other’s scent and proximity.

Katniss could taste Peeta’s trepidation on the roof of her tongue, and she was sure he could probably taste hers. But underneath that, there was an undercurrent of other notes in his scent.

Skepticism, uncertainty, and faint flickers of…anticipation? Excitement?

She tried to concentrate on his scent but the more she tuned into him, the fuzzier her thoughts became.

That same languid warmth spread through her again, slowly, making her relax and filling her with a strange sort of comfort.

In the quietness of that headspace, Katniss heard the voice that had been swimming in the back of her mind, not quite loud enough to be heard before, but always present, and lurking ever since she went through her fever.

Alpha is strong and kind. He would be a good mate. We must show him our neck. We must be good! Please our Alpha, and he will care for us!

“Oh, my odds! What the hell was that?!” Katniss spoke up, startled.

She heard Haymitch try and stifle a chuckle.

“That, I’d hazard to guess, would be your Omega voice, sweetheart,” Haymitch replied.

“My what?” Katniss asked, bewildered.

“You know, the mental manifestation of your biological imperatives. The little voice that tells you to suck up to any Alpha in the vicinity. She’s an untrustworthy little bitch, but it’s better that you get acquainted with her now and get used to ignoring her bullshit advice than being blindsided during the Games.” Haymitch explained.

“How? How do you know she’s untrustworthy?” Katniss managed to ask after a brief pause.

“Because Alphas have their own stupid little voice. Except it ain’t so little and its twice as stupid. Am I right, boy?” Haymitch asked, looking over at Peeta.

Peeta now had his eyes open and was regarding Haymitch with something like frustration.

But when Katniss turned her attention to him he refocused on her.

“I—um, yeah. I started to hear it after I came out of my fever.” Peeta admitted, one hand scratching the back of his neck self-consciously.

“What does it say to you?” Katniss asked, genuinely curious.

“It’s always barking at me about stupid things. I honestly just try to ignore it, most of the time.” Peeta replied vaguely.

Katniss wanted to press him for more information but Haymitch cleared his throat.

“As much as I love you all’s little sharing fest, it's getting late and you two have to get an early start tomorrow. So, now that you both have been introduced to your hormonal alter egos, I say we get this show on the road.” Haymitch drawled impatiently.

Katniss felt her heart speed up, and the now significantly louder voice inside her head was practically salivating at the idea of letting Peeta scent her.

Peeta for his part look slightly stressed and hesitated to come any closer to her.

“Um, do you want to—?”

“We should just—”

They both began speaking at the same time and behind them, Haymitch let out an exasperated sigh.

“Sometime before my liver gives out on me.” Their mentor needled them.

“Now you’re just outlining the benefits for us to drag this out.” Peeta bit back turning his head to stare down their mentor over his shoulder. His comment was rather acerbic and surprising to Katniss.

But then she giggled. She realized if there was one thing she could get on board with Peeta about, it was serving up some sass to their slightly overbearing mentor.

Peeta’s head whipped back around at the sound of her laugh and his eyes widened. He seemed stunned that he had made her laugh.

Katniss’ eyes crinkled, and she held her smile, willing him to see that it was ok.

His gaze locked on her smiling lips, and he breathed out a relieved breath. Then he gave her a smile that was so genuine and sweet, with just a hint of shyness that it made her inner Omega practically swoon.

Katniss found herself leaning in without thinking, and tilting her head slightly to offer up her neck to him.

Peeta’s pupils grew dilated, and he sucked in a breath. The tip of his tongue poked out of his mouth to wet his soft-looking, plush, and rosy lips. He leaned in, but then pulled back slightly.

Katniss fought a whimper, and the urge to pull his mouth down to her neck.

He reached out and gently took her hand.

“Is this okay?” He asked, blue eyes holding hers until they darted back down to her neck, and the soft patch of skin that was beginning to throb under his scrutiny.

“Yes,” Katniss breathed the word softly, in a voice that she would have been embarrassed to hear coming from her mouth at any other time.

Peeta nodded to himself and leaned in.

She had expected him to start licking immediately. Because that was how Haymitch had explained it. An Alpha’s saliva could create a temporary bond with an Omega if applied directly to her scent gland, and vice versa.

So Katniss was surprised when Peeta’s lips placed a tentative kiss on the side of her neck instead, right above her scent gland.

But still, even with that tiny, almost chase kiss, it felt like her body had erupted with heat.

“Oh,” She exclaimed, involuntarily, in a high and surprised voice and it seemed to trigger something in Peeta, because, in the next moment, he attached his whole mouth to her gland and absolutely covered it in kisses.

And the sensation was unlike anything Katniss had ever felt before.

Her entire body was alive, and thrumming with energy. Her muscles tensed and arched under his touch. She found herself tilting her head back more, inviting him to claim her neck and her scent gland thoroughly.

And he did. He parted his lips and began to suck. An intense ripple of pleasure surged through her, and she bit down on her lip to stifle a cry.

Waves of delicious and forbidden heat spread down to her lower abdomen and then lower still, to a part of her that she had never felt so aware of or preoccupied with before. There was a needfulness rousing inside her, curling and coiling into something splendid or awful, she wasn’t sure which.

The only thing she was sure of was that Peeta’s mouth was magic and she never wanted him to stop—

“Okay, that’s enough.” Came Haymitch’s rude interruption.

Katniss’ eyes blinked open and she was startled to discover their mentor standing just a few feet away. She had forgotten he was there! That he was supervising them! She struggled with an overwhelming sense of aggravation at his interruption and also a small but growing sense of mortification that he had witnessed her wanton behavior, but Peeta it seemed hadn’t even heard him. He was still lavishing her gland with his mouth.

“I mean it, let her go,” Haymitch repeated, and this time Peeta did respond, with a low growl, more intense than any sound she had heard him make before.

It shocked Katniss and scared her a little. But the moment her scent changed from that of a receptive and pleased Omega to one rife with fear and worry, Peeta pulled back and stopped.

“There he is. Thought we lost you for a minute there, boy.” Haymitch said gruffly, approaching them slowly and cautiously, as Peeta leaned back and blinked his eyes slowly, as if trying to blink away a dream.

“Sorry…” Peeta answered, still somewhat out of it. His eyes had the look of a man who had dived too deep and come up too quickly.

“The first time touching an Omega up close can be intoxicating.” Haymitch replied dismissively, almost too casually. But when Katniss looked at his expression she could tell he was unsettled.

But then he gestured for them both to stand up. When they did, Haymitch stepped towards her and cocked his head to the side, inspecting.

Their mentor let out a low whistle.

“He got you good, sweetheart.”

Katniss clamped a hand down over her swollen and tender scent gland and shot Haymitch a murderous glare, but he just laughed.

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to return the favor right now. You two need some time to cool off, so we’ll have you scent him in the morning.” Haymitch instructed.

The rush of endorphins was finally starting to abate and her head was clearing more by the second. And in the wake of her unrestrained behavior, she felt completely shocked and caught off guard at her own response to Peeta’s scenting of her.

So she took Haymitch’s instructions for what they were, a dismissal, and used the opportunity to flee the rooftop as quickly as her feet could carry her.

#everlark fanfiction #everlark #everlark a/b/o #thg #peeta and katniss #lemonluvwrites #The Effect #The Designation Games #tdg #alpha peeta #omega katniss

77 notes · View notes

korgbelmont · 11 months

Text

Choices Insiders November 2023

Here we are once more, so let's dive into this months Insiders email!

I picked the option of the lore as I have a love of fantasy worldbuilding and I'm always interested to see what approach different authors take to their worlds.

The Cursed Heart has some interesting worldbuilding with the Fae in regard to the Sun and Moon courts as when it comes to light and dark fantasy, my mind instantly thinks Elves. One thing I liked with the book, is the subversion of day/light = good and night/dark = bad.

I'll get more to Alpha later, but I'm interested to see what VIP players think of it as I haven't seen much posted about it.

Ship of Dreams I have seen a bit about, but I'll see what it's like when it releases next month.

They do make it sound slightly Royal Romance there, interested to see what female Kieran's version will be like.

With where I make transparents, I'm used to seeing headless sprites haha.

Given that there were characters named Radiance and Gleam and that kind of thing, I'm guessing that Opulence is a member of the Sun Court.

It is nice to know that there is a new new multiple Love Interest book coming, I'll go more into each upcoming title in a bit.

When I saw the cover, it did give me Red Carpet Diaries vibes, and this does make me think this is going to be a more mature version of that series.

Unbridled: An Untameable Story - The bit above is from the end, looks like once again, it'll be a single Love Interest book with the Rancher being the Love Interest.

Guarded - As I said above, Guarded looks to be a mature remake of Red Carpet Diaries, but with a bit of Witness thrown in. I imagine this will be a single Love Interest book with the bodyguard being the Love Interest.

Hot Shot - I must admit, of all the titles, this is the one that I'm the least fussed about as I'm not really one for the sports genre, I'll give this a chance, but yeah.

Immortal Desires 2 - This is one book that is higher on the list as I really enjoyed the first book and I am looking forward to more Gabriela. Interested to see who they put as the villain.

A Taste For Royalty - My guess is this is another book with a single Love Interest who is a royal. My guess is the MC is someone who works in the food industry. Or it could be vice versa, who knows.

The Deadliest Game - This very much sounds like a crime story that could perhaps could have horror-y elements to it. It's already been confirmed to be a multiple Love Interest book. I'll be interested to see how each character fits into the story.

Alpha is a book I'm interested to see what it's like and how they approach the lore with the Werewolves. I think it'll probably be a Friday book as the finale of The Duchess Affair is tomorrow and the finale of Kindred is next Friday (Not ready for that!)

Ship of Dreams and The Cursed Heart 2 are the books that'll be seeing us out of 2023, and I certainly don't mind ending the year with some fantasy.

That's it for this months, I'll try and remember to take screenshots of the ads as they come up on their other social media pages.

Keep safe everyone!

#playchoices #choices insiders #thoughts and theories

16 notes · View notes

queenofdragons12 · 1 year

Text

Babydoll — J.JK, B.C, H.HJ

WARNINGS : slight seductive, flirting, soft fluff

PARINGS : idol! hyrbid! J.JK + B.C + H.HJ X fem! dragon! reader + stray kids and BTS

a/n: there's a new series I'll do hope you'll like it!

Ch.1

Being a hybrid had never been easy. The relentless pursuit of others, hoping to capture and exploit your unique essence, loomed over your existence like a shadowy specter. As a dragon hybrid, the fuss surrounding you was amplified to an unbearable degree. The clamor of humanity's curiosity and avarice pursued you ceaselessly, driving you to seek solace in the seclusion of your current abode.

You had once dwelled amidst the constant paparazzi frenzy in the heart of bustling Seoul, South Korea. But now, you had distanced yourself from the maddening throngs of humans, carving out a refuge far away from their intrusive presence. Yet, even in your newfound sanctuary, those relentless few managed to sniff you out, their tempting offers purposefully designed to exploit your vulnerabilities. Little did they know, you possessed a wealth that surpassed their expectations, having amassed a dragon's horde of gold before your relocation.

Glimmering and lustrous gold was integral to your dragon nature — a testament to your legendary heritage. Once upon a time, you had reveled in the opulence of your hoard, but the desire to assimilate into human society had tugged at your heartstrings for years. It had become customary to seek out work, a means to integrate yourself within the tapestry of humanity.

And indeed, you still toiled away, for today held an important job interview, a gateway to a new chapter in your life. As you stood before the mirror, your gaze met your reflection, scrutinizing every detail. The mirror's surface bore witness to the intricate dance of your fingers as they grazed along the delicate ridges of your face, tracing the contours of your neck and collarbones. Dustings of golden flecks adorned your scales, shimmering in ethereal beauty, a testament to the melding of dragon and mortal flesh.

The hues that adorned your scales captivated the eye — a mesmerizing blend of deep blue, black, and golden dust as if the night sky had woven a celestial elegance garment. Each scale was a tiny mosaic, a fragment of iridescence that painted a portrait of your true self. With careful consideration, you selected a dress that embraced the color palette of your being. The deep blue fabric cascaded down your form, caressing every curve with a grace reminiscent of a leaf floating upon a tranquil pond. Embedded within its seams were delicate threads of gold, reminiscent of the treasure you had guarded so fiercely.

As the dress settled upon your shoulders, it unveiled a tantalizing glimpse of your scales, which adorned your skin like jewels. Their presence, even in this modest display, exuded an otherworldly allure. A smile graced your lips as your scales shimmered and danced in the gentle illumination of the room. You were a vision, a resplendent embodiment of beauty and power, ready to face the world that lay beyond your sanctuary.

With a final, confident glance in the mirror, you knew that you were prepared. Ready to step into the realm of humans, your dragon heart beating in harmony with the intricate melody of a world that awaited you.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

Hyunjin had always reveled in the opulence of his wealthy family, a lineage that had long been a source of pride. However, his illustrious heritage was often overshadowed by the complexities of his werewolf lineage, which posed challenges in business. As the leader of the Lunar Shadows pack, alongside his father's old friend, Chan, Hyunjin had witnessed the thriving success of their pack. Yet, the constant thorn in their side remained the Wildfire Howlers, led by none other than the boastful alpha, the renowned Prince Jeon Jungkook's father. Despite the ongoing feud, Jeon Jungkook himself was confined to leading a small pack called BTS, a mere whimper in comparison.

However, amidst the mundane affairs of their pack, Hyunjin's attention was abruptly seized when rumors reached his ears of an upcoming appearance by new personnel. His curiosity was piqued, although a touch of boredom lingered within him. Such matters rarely concerned him, for his father, Ragnor, paid little heed to his son's and best friend's opinions, as they had already forged their own enterprise — Stray Kids, they called it.

Returning to the present, Hyunjin strolled through the grand corridors of his family's company. Then, he caught sight of a woman draped in a form-fitting blue dress, gracefully gliding towards him. His eyes fixed on her figure, exuding an air of unrivaled elegance. However, the dusting of scales adorning her supple skin truly captivated him. Their interplay of black, blue, and golden hues shimmered like a masterpiece, a canvas he would aspire to paint, blending dark shades with ethereal brilliance.

Halting in his tracks, Hyunjin's world came to a standstill as the woman turned her head, locking her captivating (e/c) eyes with his own. At that moment, his inner wolf roared to life, resonating within the depths of his being, screaming the undeniable truth—mate, mate, mate! A flicker of pain coursed through Hyunjin as he witnessed the woman tilt her head, acknowledging him before continuing on her way, the echo of her heels clicking against the pristine floor.

Hyunjin stood there, stunned and breathless, as his soul reverberated with the overwhelming presence of his destined mate. Never before had his wolf yearned so fiercely, recognizing this encounter as the real deal — the union that would bind them eternally. With your enchanting presence, you were his one true soulmate, destined to intertwine their lives in a symphony of love and belonging.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

You scolded yourself silently, berating your outburst, as you leaned against the wall on the other side of the room, facing the office where your new boss awaited you. Why had you let out that startled scream? Coiled within your very being, your inner dragon hissed in disapproval, smoke curling from her nostrils. Because I could sense him, you cannot deny that you felt the connection too. You can't tell me he wasn't your type! Your dragon reminded you, her voice resonating in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, you shook your head, brushing aside strands of hair that had fallen across your face. With newfound resolve, you steeled yourself again and raised your hand to knock on the door. The air hung heavy with anticipation, nerves coiling within you like restless serpents.

Soon enough, the door swung open, and you nearly flinched as you came face to face with a man whose handsomeness surpassed anything you had ever witnessed. There was a striking resemblance to the tall, long-haired individual you had encountered in the hallway — a kindred spirit, perhaps? Your breath caught in your throat as your dragon flamed up again, reflecting the scorching intensity coursing through your veins. His dilated pupils mirrored your own, signaling a shared recognition — an unspoken understanding. At that moment, you realized he, too, was a hybrid.

Oh, boy, how would you navigate this intricate dance of fate? The intertwining of two extraordinary beings, destined to collide in a world that could be breathtakingly beautiful and treacherously unpredictable. Survival seemed daunting, for the path ahead was shrouded in mystery, with the potential for passion and peril in equal measure.

#romance #xreader #dragons #love #stray kids x reader #oc

24 notes · View notes