#these are like. alpha levels of big

[tea-loving-frog]

AAAAAAAWWWWWWW!

so in other news Pokemon is releasing life-sized Eeveelution (+ Eevee) plushies. this would not be particularly noteworthy except for the fact that the plushies are FUCKING HUGE

[borathae]

Bonded

“You didn’t think that having Jungkook save you from an abusive arranged marriage by marking you would mean that you would have to marry him instead. Yet here you are. Bonded to him for life, with his father threatening to ban you if you fuck it up and with your marriage night one step away. It wouldn’t be that scary if you weren’t aware that his family doesn’t bond with omegas.”

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x f. omega!Reader

Genre: Werewolves!AU, forced marriage!AU, childhood best friends to lovers!AU, marriage night!AU, Angst, Romance, SMUT

Warnings: Hard Dom!Jungkook, happy sub!Reader, size & strength kink, he is a lot taller than her, angst & misunderstandings in the beginning, poor woman gets threatened left and right at her own bonding party, please protect her, Kook is hurt by her at first but the problem gets solved hihi, her brother is a dick tbfh, insanely protective!Jungkook, whipped Alpha in loveeee, lots of kisses and touches, he is really soft with her & just a lil nervous, he is so lethal tbfh no wonder she gets turned on by him so easily bahaha, kissing & biting of her scent spots, the spots are on her neck and her tits and her inner thighs, he accidentally stimulates them long enough that she goes into heat, which makes him go into his ruts <3, this is a really passionate bonding night for sureeee, intense and hungry nipple sucking, her poor omega tits swell and produce sweet liquid (not milk just idk omega liquid lmaloaooa listen I made this up as I was going and it's hot), Jungkook eats it upppp, sooooo much slick, lots of drool and tears hihih, rough penetrative sex with his big alpha cock, knotting, lots of orgasms for both, breeding with his hot cum mhmh, listen he fucks her roughly while he is knotted which means she repeatedly gets penetrated by his knot, she likes it cause she is so into him, stimulation of her cervix which feels really good for an omega, she is in heaven with him fr, he never felt as good before as well, sex in missionary then in mating press and then just tangled up in a mess of limbs, praise, hand holding, he calls her "baby" & "my love" & "princess", the cuddliest and safest and giggliest aftercare, they're not aware of it yet but they're true mates <3, oh yeah! they break the bed

Wordcount: 15.8k

a/n: YOU HOES (affectionately) ASKED FOR IT AND THIS HOE (me, derogatory) LISTENED!!! I FUCKING LISTENED!!! AND I AGREED!! We need more Alpha!Kook in our life and on this blog. This is the hottest smut ever like (tmi but) i need to jerk it afterwards, which rarely happens with my smut HFAHDSFH i need him to be my alpha husband and rearrange my guts daily tbfh 😔 have fun besties, i hope this is a worthy enough sequel to the first part 😩💛 ps: for all you omegaverse veterans, i'm still a newbie to this AU and this story is MY interpretation of the AU hehe any rule changes are done intentional to my comfort levels <3

If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would mean This, perhaps you never would have agreed. Perhaps if the night hadn’t been so stormy and you so hopeless, you wouldn’t have said yes. 

But you did and now you are here. In front of the entire pack, in a long dress as your pack’s priest is talking about eternal faithfulness. You knew that being marked by an alpha would mean that you had to be with him, but didn’t think it would mean This. 

Your family is in the audience. First row, next to Jungkook’s family. Your brother stares at you with a look you can’t quite make out. You still can’t really stand his face. Jungkook’s father seems displeased and you don’t blame him. The little stunt you pulled made alpha Urquard furious and it was Jungkook’s father who had to take care of it. He wanted to trade another omega at first, but Jungkook stopped him before that could happen. You didn’t get to see Jungkook for two whole days after this incident and when he came back, his upper lip was chipped and he didn’t want to talk about what happened. 

“Urquard’s not gonna bother our pack again. That’s all you need to know”, he told you tiredly while you tried to nurse his lip. “And there’s something else. It’s about us”, he then continued.

“About us? What about us?”

“If we wanna keep living here, we have to do something.”

“What do we have to do?”

“And with this kiss, I may pronounce you husband and wife”, the priest says and howls. The rest of the pack follows. Everyone, except Jungkook’s father who is staring holes into you darkly. It is custom for werewolves to howl for a newly bonded couple. It is meant to bring luck and happiness into the marriage. Having the pack alpha refuse this ritual is not a good sign. 

You gulp down the heavy lump in your throat, shifting your nervous eyes to Jungkook. He seems nervous too, clasping your clammy hands. He closes the distance. Thankfully the howls are loud enough to mask your voices.

“He isn’t-”

“I know. Ignore him. He’s a stubborn idiot.” Jungkook cups your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” 

You hesitate, feeling dizzy from lack of oxygen in your lungs. His father isn’t howling. What if Jungkook doesn’t want this bond either? If you knew that your night with him would end in marriage, maybe you wouldn’t have said yes to him. He wants to kiss you, doesn’t he? His eyes are studying your lips. You want to kiss him too, but it is so scary to go for it. What if he doesn’t want this bond? You hesitate and hesitate. As a matter of fact, you hesitate long enough for the howls to die down. 

Heavy, thick silence follows. The pack stares. The priest stares. Jungkook’s father stares. Jungkook himself stares.

“Hey uhm, this is the part where you kiss me”, he whispers. 

“I know”, you whisper back.

The priest clears his throat. Jungkook licks his lips nervously, still waiting for your consent. Someone in the audience coughs.

If you knew that agreeing to Jungkook’s plan would lead to having to bond with him, perhaps you never would have agreed. He promised you that you would just have to pretend, that you wouldn’t have to be with him if you didn’t want to and yet here you are. You are now officially his mate. Well, not until you kissed him. You really want to kiss him, but it’s so scary. 

“You have to kiss for the bond to be sealed”, the priest whispers as well. 

You glance at the audience. Your family seems nervous. Jungkook’s father seems hopeful but also very angry. You look at Jungkook, whose eyes have darkened slightly.

“It seems that the bond is invali-”, the priest tries to announce loudly, but before he can finish his sentence, Jungkook silences him by pulling you into the kiss. 

You gasp, eyes wide open and body frozen. His big hand is on the back of your head, keeping you close. The priest sees it as a sign and begins the howling again. It fills the wedding house, almost sounding like melodies of joy. But you feel sick to the stomach. You are mated for life. Jungkook made sure of it and you made sure of how your marriage will be because you hesitated. You can see it in his eyes once he pulls back and they are as cold as ice. Holy fuck, you messed up.

The iciness of his stare continues long into the festivities. It is the duty of the newly  bonded couple to open the dance floor with a dance. You and Jungkook have to wait behind a curtain to be called to the floor. You arrive a little later than him because your mother wanted to talk to you before that. Something about being a good mate to him. You didn’t really listen because she pissed you off. 

Jungkook sends you an icy glare, tonguing his cheek.

“You”, you stomp to him. Your mother made you angry enough that you feel the need to take it out on him. 

He watches you with a cocked up brow. You shove at his chest. He doesn’t budge, but stares with widened eyes. 

“How dare you force the kiss onto me like this. You took away my choice”, you hiss.

“Tch.”

“Don’t tch me. You said that it was my choice. You forced me.”

He tenses his jaw, looking anywhere but you. You shove him again with no chance of moving him. 

“Did you hear me?”

“I don’t know if you already forgot the five prior conversations we had, but if we didn’t bond today, my dad would have banished us both. I made sure that this wouldn’t happen”, he answers you snappishly.

“This still doesn’t give you the right to kiss me like this”, you throw back, shoving at his chest.

He doesn’t budge, taking your hands to stop you from shoving him again. His grip is strong and possessive, but doesn’t hurt. 

“The priest was gonna renounce our bond. I had to act fast”, he hisses.

“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be forced into it.”

“I know that by now”, Jungkook spits and swipes your hands away, turning a cold shoulder to you. He crosses his arms in front of his chest so tightly it looks as if he is trying to hug himself.

“I want an apology for it”, you insist.

“I’m sorry.” 

You falter for a moment, not having expected it. 

“I’m sorry, okay? Just. Drop it now, please.”

“Drop it? Excuse me?” 

Jungkook turns his head away.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

No eye contact.

“Jungkook?” 

“I’m done talking to you”, he grumbles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“It means that you hurt me.”

You gawk at him, holding your breath. He turns to you, meeting your eyes with such urgency it feels as if he is trying to drown you in the connection.

“All this talk about not wanting me to hold back. You told me not to stop telling you that you’re mine. Was it just empty talk?” he asks.

His heartbroken scent makes you feel heavy in your chest. 

“What? I, I don’t- what?” you stutter.

“Did it ever mean something to you?” 

“Kook, I-”

“Don’t call me that”, he hisses and steps closer. The thing is, however, that you don’t feel the instinctive need to step back. He doesn’t feel dangerous to you. Not because he isn’t scary, because he definitely is, but because you know for a fact that he wouldn’t hurt you. “Don’t call me that after what you did today.”

You gulp. He puts his hand over his heart, eyes showing how hurt he feels. His voice quivers as he speaks.

“You made me have my first knot ever. You, you made me feel so good that I bit you. You had your first knotting orgasm through me. I was fucking alive inside you”, he say and puts his other hand on your stomach where you once allowed him to feel himself in you. 

You gasp and tense at the touch, putting your hand over his’. His touch seeps into you, reminding you how it was to carry his warmth inside you. Everything inside you wants him within the first touch. The connection is so intense that you draw closer to him instinctively.

“I thought that it meant something to you too. So why did you hesitate?” he stresses, eyes racing between yours.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Jungkook pulls his hand away from your stomach. “Wow, okay.”

“Kook, please.”

“Forget it. Let’s just get it over with”, he hisses and a second later, the curtains open and you have to pretend to be a happy couple.

He takes your hand, leading you to the dance floor while howls and claps cheer you on. He positions you and him in the middle of the dance floor, looking down at you with a tightened face. 

The music starts. So does the dance. 

Jungkook leads it, you follow. He holds you so close. He looks so deeply into your eyes. To anyone else it must seem as if he can’t get enough of his wife, but you are close enough to him that you know his true feelings. He wants this stupid dance to end as quickly as possible. 

You can’t bear to look up at him any longer, lowering your eyes.

“Don’t. Look up.” 

You obey instinctively.

“You’ve already fucked up the kiss, don’t fuck up the dance as well.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s already a little too late for that, isn’t it?” he says and leans you back as part of the dance. For just a second you see the world upside down before he lifts you again, holding you against his chest as he twirls over the dance floor with you. It makes your dress dance with you and blurs the world around you. He furrows his brows.

“Did it ever mean anything to you?” he asks. 

“I don’t know.”

“Yes or no? It’s a simple answer.”

“I was desperate and I-”

“Wow.” 

“I, I just meant that I don’t know if it meant what it meant to you.”

“Stop talking, seriously.”

You gulp. Jungkook looks away. 

“You have to look at me”, you whisper panickedly.

“Don’t worry, the dance is already fucked”, Jungkook says and coincidentally enough, the music switches just this moment. The rest of the pack fills the dance floor, but you barely notice them.

Jungkook steps back and leaves you in the middle of the dance floor. Your chest feels tight. You didn’t want it to come to this. Of course it meant something to you, but he cornered you right now and you tend to say the wrong things under pressure. You didn’t want to give him a dishonest answer, but didn’t have the full answer ready yet. Oh god, this isn’t what you wanted to happen.

Sudden fear fills you. You know instantly that his father is next to you. You force yourself to look at him, holding your breath.

“Ruin this bond, you and your family can look for a new pack. Understood?”

You nod your head fearfully.

“Speak up!” 

“Yes! Understood!” 

“That’s better. Fucking, bratty omega. Just because my son can’t keep his dick in his pants. I’ll teach him how to discipline you, be sure of that”, he says with a deadly glare and turns his back to you, leaving you in the middle of the dance floor.

You bite back tears. 

Alcohol. You need to forget this night. Yes, that’s the solution.

Werewolf bonding parties aren’t that different from human wedding parties. There is good music, delicious food, lots of dancing and even more laughter. There is also, of course, the occasional friendly fighting between two wolves, which may seem scary to a human but is perfectly normal to your species. There is even a saying that if a bonding party doesn’t have friendly fighting, the bond will not last. A part of you had hoped that your party would be such a party just so it wouldn’t be you who ruins the marriage and therefore has to carry the alpha’s wrath. But your wish wasn’t granted the moment you watched Yoongi and Hoseok start a friendly wrestling march next to the margaritas bar.

Speaking of margaritas, you are drunk on them by now. Way too drunk, barely able to stand on two feet. 

“Fuck, I need air”, you get out and turn to leave. You run your eyes over the crowd. Your family is by their table, your brother follows you with his eyes. You must be way too drunk because for a second it felt as if he was hunting you with them. You break contact, spotting Jungkook next. He is talking to one of the betas, Seokjin. He also seems terribly drunk. You look away quickly, stumbling past him on your way outside. He follows you with his eyes as you do, but you are too drunk to notice.

The night is cold. A welcome change to the stuffy air inside. Tonight is a new moon. You look up at the moonless sky. Weddings under a new moon mean that they will last long. That’s what the legends say. The new life together starts with the new cycle of the moon. First the fighting, now this. Your marriage seriously wants to last, doesn’t it?

You stumble to a quiet corner, resting against the wall. The music is blurred behind a veil of alcohol and the thick walls of the venue.

The thing is, it’s not that you had to bond with Jungkook which upsets you so much. It is the fact that it had to happen under such circumstances. You are sure that if he didn’t have to mark you in order to save your life, he would have never even thought about taking you as a mate. You know how his family thinks. A wolf with the alpha gen should mate with another wolf with the alpha gen. Bonding with an omega isn’t a thing in Jungkook’s family. And this is what scares you. You are an omega in a family of alphas and his father seems to fucking hate it. What if Jungkook hates it too? He talked about keeping you safe and not wanting to let you go, but he probably didn’t think that he would have to mate with you. He was probably high on his afterglow and talked without thinking.

“Urgh”, you let out, grinding your fangs. 

But then, why was he so upset that you hesitated? Was it because he wanted to own you as quickly as possible? But he smelled heartbroken. Someone who is merely upset about not owning you wouldn’t smell like this. This is confusing you so much. 

“Who knew that you would be married before me.” 

You turn your head to your brother. You must be really drunk because his eyes still seem so different.

“It’s crazy to imagine that you came back and got bonded”, he says. 

“Only because you fucked up and I almost had to die for it. Otherwise, Jungkook would have never had to step in and I would have never had to bond with him”, you throw back.

Your brother studies you with furrowed brows.

“Look, I said that I’m sorry and I am. It was an accident. I thought that she was a deer.”

“Tch, sure. I know you were into her. I watched you sneak away sometimes to see her. You got jealous and decided to kill her because you couldn’t bear the thought that she was to be with someone else. Admit it”, you challenge him because you know that it was bullshit. Your brother would never kill someone out of jealousy. 

Something changes in your brother’s face, however. Your brother disappears, the face of an ice cold killer stares back at you. The face of a killer who killed before and who would do it again. He steps closer and you instinctively step back. Fear and the desire to flee overcomes you. It is difficult however when he has you cornered. It is a dark corner and there are no people around.

“What, what are you doing? You, you are scary”, you stutter.

“You know, you were never supposed to come back.”

“What?”

“If I were you, I’d be careful with your words from now on”, he warns, dragging the back of his hand down your face, “are we understood, sister?” 

You whimper instinctively, avoiding his eyes. His touch feels like sandpaper on your skin. He comes closer. You are so scared. 

“Are we under-”, he stumbles back as a strong hand tugs him away from you. It is so rough in fact that he squeaks against his will.

“Do we have a problem here?” Jungkook growls, stepping between you and your brother. He is huffing his air, torso stretching the fabric of his suit because his protectiveness is making his body grow. Your brother tries to take a step closer, but instantly stops with just one deep growl of Jungkook. 

Your brother looks at you for a brief moment. The person you once knew is gone from his eyes. 

“I was already leaving”, he presses out and turns his back to leave. He knows better than to pick a fight with Jungkook. He gets as far as one step before the latter pulls him back. 

He tries to fight him in reaction, but gives up quickly when Jungkook renders him useless with a strong grip on his chin. His claws dimple his skin, threatening to break through. He is towering over your brother by now. 

“You are the one who is going to start picking his words carefully from now on. She is under my protection now. Is that clear?”

“Is this supposed to scare me?”

“Don’t test me.” Jungkook hisses, shaking him by his chin. “I’ll let you go tonight because you’re her brother and I don’t wanna break her heart, but you threaten her again and you’re dead. Are we understood?” he snarls his words, eyes dangerously golden and sharp fangs on full display.

“Yes”, your brother croaks out.

“Speak up!” Jungkook barks, shaking him.

“Yes! I’m sorry, yes!” 

“Good. Now leave, you’re ruining my wife’s mood”, Jungkook growls and pushes him away. 

The man, who was once your brother, stumbles back and runs off with his tail tucked between his legs.

Jungkook stares him down until he truly left and only then, he turns to you. He puts his hands on your upper arms, touching you so gently one might never know how roughly he handled your brother seconds ago. His features are clouded over with worry. His body is smaller again and his muscles shrunk back to their relaxed size.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” he asks, studying you worriedly.

You shake your head, gasping for air in small, helpless breaths. 

“Hey, sshhh you’re okay now. You’re okay”, he says, hugging you against his chest. One hand is on your back, the other on the back of your head. The calming scent of him engulfs you, masking your own frightened scent.

“People need to stop threatening me tonight”, you get out, sobbing into him.

“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay”, he keeps repeating the words, placing little kisses all over the crown of your head.

The fight of earlier feels far away to both of you. Especially to him.

It wasn’t long after you stumbled past him, that he followed you outside. At first he followed you with the intent of confronting you again, but then he saw that you were talking to your brother and he stayed back. Because of his heightened senses, he heard everything of your conversation with him. He also smelled your fear even before hearing your whimper and it drove up his desire to protect you to such levels that he has to tremble now that he finally holds you safe and sound. 

“You’re okay. I’m here now. I’m here.”

You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes.

“This wasn’t my brother anymore.”

“I know, I’m sorry”, he says, wiping your tears.

“He murdered her. Kook, he is a murderer.”

“I heard everything. I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

“He looked at me as if he wanted to kill me too.”

“I wouldn’t have let him. He’d have been dead if he tried.”

“Kook”, you get out and hide away in his chest.

You smell so sad and heartbroken and scared. Jungkook feels parts of his body cramp from how much he trembles. He wants to protect you more than he already does. It is driving him insane that he can’t do more for you.

“Jungkook, I wanna go home but I don’t…” Your sad scent reaches its peak as tears roll down your cheeks. “I don’t even know where that is anymore”, you press out and sob. 

“Hey no, don’t cry. I’ll take you home”, Jungkook says and puts his arm around you to lead you away from the venue. You let your head fall against him, crying loudly because everything is just a lot for you. 

“Do we have to tell anyone? Can we just leave? What if they ask questions? I don’t know what to do anymore, I don’t-”

“Hey, everything is gonna be okay. We’re the bridal couple, they’ll just have to accept the fact that we left early.”

You nod your head in understanding. You are so glad that he took control right now. You would have been lost and overwhelmed without him.

You walk home side by side. It happens for comfort reasons that, after a while, you and he stop hugging so close. You are in nothing but your dress and he is in nothing but his suit. The streets are empty and quiet because the entire pack is currently at your wedding party. 

You already walked long enough that you managed to calm down from the initial shock. It is an unspoken truth between you and him that you don’t want to talk about what happened. This means, however, that your walk is silent and that feels really awkward.

The town you grew up in hasn’t changed much ever since you were a child. The same trees still grow along the same streets, except that they are a lot taller these days. The same houses are still home to the same people and bonding nights are still held in the town’s sports hall. 

Said sports hall is still close to the playground and the way home still leads through it. 

You and Jungkook slow down as you walk down a metaphorical memory lane. You scraped your knee on the slide when you were eight and he had to blow on it to make it better. Jungkook sprained his ankle jumping off the swing when he was nine and you had to hold his hand as his mother rubbed it better again. Under the weeping willow, you and your friends played the silly little dares and you had your first kiss with him. 

You look away from the tree, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. He looked at it as well. You turn your head away, feeling your throat tighten in panic. Jungkook feels his heart twist in reaction. The better voice in him says not to dwell on it, the love drunk idiot in him tells him to fight for it. He wins in the end. 

“Wanna sit on the swings?” he suggests.

“And do what?” 

“I don’t know. Swing? Sober up a little?”

You contemplate for a second, nodding your head in the end. 

You weren’t even aware of how much you needed to sit until you are on the swing, stretching out your legs. You hate heels. They’re the worst shoes ever invented. You swing back and forth slowly, Jungkook does the same. This is still the same swing set you and he played on twenty years ago. The chains still leave this weird metallic smell on your hands and the rusty hinges seem to creak even more these days. You look up at the sky. The stars are so clear without the moon hiding them in her shine. You know this view all too well. In your left vision there are some branches of a maple tree and in the right a electrical pole is peaking at you. The view is familiar to you because twenty years ago, you and Jungkook sat at the same swing in the same order like you do today. 

You dare to glance at him. He is looking at the sky, unaware of your eyes on him. His face is relaxed, his lips slightly parted in awe of the vast universe. His eyes are the darkest brown right now, reflecting the stars. The street lights behind him illuminate the edges of his silhouette, glimmering in parts of his dark hair as well. He is so beautiful when he thinks that no one is looking. 

To think that you subconsciously chose the same swing even after all these years. He broke your heart like this fifteen years ago and now you are back, bonded. Your heart feels heavy. You shouldn’t have hesitated. You don’t know how Jungkook feels about this bond, but you get a feeling that you shouldn’t have hesitated. 

A gust of wind sweeps through the playground and makes you shiver. Your teeth clatter and you wrap your arms around yourself to rub your freezing skin. He looks at you, studying you.

“Are you cold?” he asks. 

“It’s fine. I just wasn’t planning on being outside for so long. I only wanted to catch some air for a bit. I’m kinda drunk.”

Jungkook stands up from his swing.

You watch him, confused.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and closes the distance to put it over your shoulders. It is warmed up from him, instantly stilling your shivers. It also smells like him, making you just a little droopy. He hovers his hands over your shoulders because he doesn’t know if you want his touch, talking in a soft voice. 

“Is this better?” 

“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, feeling your heart race. 

“Good. Keep it. I’m too hot anyway”, he says and leaves your side to sit down next to you.

He swings back and forth gently, watching some leaves dance on the ground as the wind carries them. Now is the perfect opportunity to talk, but he feels mute. He doesn’t want to fuck it up. Or perhaps he just doesn’t want to get hurt again. 

He dances his eyes over the playground, reminiscing on all the memories he shares with you here. You and he could have been so right and then his father fucked him up. Jungkook forces down the heavy lump in his throat.

“What’s wrong?” 

He looks at you with widened eyes.

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m an omega. I can smell when people around me are upset.”

“Ah. I don’t know. I guess, just thinking of old stuff”, he says and rubs the side of his neck. 

“Yeah. Lots of memories here”, you say and sigh.

Jungkook sees it as his cue to ask you what he had planned to ask you before he witnessed you with your brother instead. 

“Why did you hesitate?”

You almost fall off the swing in shock. Jungkook takes your hand, providing you with support. He feels vast of air when you instinctively squeeze him back and intertwine your fingers deeper. There they are again. Those mixed signals. You say one thing, but do the other. You do another thing, but say the complete opposite. Jungkook can barely take the confusion anymore, repeating his question again. 

“I get it that you were nervous, but it looked like you didn’t want to kiss me at all. Why?”

“I just…”, you pull your hand back, swinging gently to soothe yourself.

Jungkook swings as well, looking at you. 

“All of this is a lot for me. I went from a normal woman to a sex slave by a snatch to an omega marked, to a wife in the span of two weeks. This is a lot to work through.”

“Yeah, when you put it like this, it really is.”

“I didn’t think that our little stunt in the shed would lead to this.”

“Yeah honestly, neither did I. I thought that they would want us to date for a little and that’s it.”

“Yeah”, you agree and glance at him. “I’m scared that you are only doing this because your dad forced you. That’s why I hesitated. I saw the way he looked at me.”

“Don’t think about him. He is old and unhappy. He didn’t force me. Not when I…I dreamt of having you as my wife ever since I’ve known you.”

“What?”

You stop swinging. Jungkook stops as well, turning with the swing to face you.

“I think that’s why I kissed you. The priest wanted to announce that it’s invalid and I panicked and went in. I just needed to know that this wouldn’t be lost forever.”

“Oh my god, you dreamed of bonding with me?” you press out, eyes full of emotions.

“Ever since I’ve known you. Well, you know, ever since I knew what bonding meant. I always wanted it to be with you.”

“Kook…”

He rests his head against the metal chain, reaching his hands out for you. You turn with your swing and take his hands, feeling your pulse in your neck because of how high he raises it. His thumbs draw hearts on your skin, his eyes are so soft.

“Yeah, I guess it’s out there now”, he says, laughing softly.

“It is”, you whisper and squeeze his hands.

Jungkook squeezes them right back, smiling with his eyes before it washes over his lips as well. 

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this on the same swing set you best friend broke up with me when we were twelve.” 

He laughs, lifting his brows for it. It’s such a cute laugh, making you laugh with him. 

“Correction, where I was forced to best friend break up with you ‘cause my dad is a control freak.” 

“Right. I’m sorry that your dad sucks.” 

"Yeah, I guess I got used to it. He’s my dad, that’s how he is.” 

“I’m still sorry.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook says and lets go of your hands to twirl back to the front. He takes a deep breath and stands up.

“Where are you going?”

“If I remember correctly, you always loved the swing the most.” 

“I did, but what’s that got to do with anything?”

He walks behind you and puts his hands on the chain of the swing. 

“Hold on tight.” 

“Huh? Oh!” 

He pushes you, making you swing back and forth. You squeal, having to laugh afterwards. Jungkook snickers with you, pushing you a second time to make you swing higher. Your shared laughter dances through the playground and in this short moment in life’s series of moments, you and he feel like kids again. There are no responsibilities lingering in the back of your heads, no fears of the future, no stresses of past days nor dreams ruined by reality. You and he are twelve again, using the swings after a long day of playing adventurers in the forests. The stars shine brighter and the wind doesn’t feel that cold anymore. You are alive again, flying to the very stars with each push Jungkook gives you. 

“Not too high please, I’ll get scared”, you squeal, feeling tears of laughter run down your cheeks. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t push you too high. I never did, remember?” 

You and he talk as he continues to push you on the swing. 

“If I remember correctly, you sometimes pushed me way too high because you were a gremlin like that.”

“A gremlin? Wow, okay”, he laughs and pushes you extra hard as playful revenge.

“Hey! No, it’s too high!” you squeak, laughing way too much.

Jungkook does it again.

“Kook please! I’m gonna fall, ah!” 

And it happens. Your drunk ass falls off the swing. You squeal, preparing for impact which never comes. Instead he catches you in his strong arms, looking down at you with protective, caring eyes.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah, thanks”, you whisper, watching his lips move. You giggle, dropping your head on his shoulder, “fuck, I’m too clumsy for this.” 

“Hah, yeah.”

Jungkook noticed that you looked at his lips. For just a second, he wanted to kiss you. In the end, he didn’t. He won’t ever kiss you again without your consent. 

He sets you down gently, holding both your hands against his chest. You look up at him, feeling a little robbed of air. His eyes race between yours as if he trying to build connection between your souls with just one look.

“I promise to be a good husband to you. No harm shall ever come to you through my hands and if I should ever break this promise, it is your right to strike me down. You have my body as protection and my heart to find a home in, ___. You always have and you always will.”

“You keep saying that. Does it mean..?”

“It does. It means that I love you and that I’ll do anything to make you happy.” He exhales shakily. “I know that you don’t feel the same and I’m sorry again that I kissed you. Please, can you forgive-” 

You put your finger on his lips, silencing him. He whimpers a little because of it.

“Can I say something now? Please?” 

“Of course”, he says and steps back, fumbling with his own hands nervously. 

“I’m not mad at you anymore that you kissed me. I, I was planning to kiss you, I was. I just, I saw your dad and he wasn’t howling and then I thought that we’re only in this situation because you had to save me. And I panicked and I was scared that we’d regret it and yeah.” 

He nods his head in understanding, lowering his eyes sadly. You take his hand.

“It meant something to me too.” 

He meets your emotional eyes, feeling emotional himself.

“It meant something to me, maybe not the same as it did to you but it did mean something to me. I wanted to tell you this, but didn’t know how. I get nervous when I’m cornered and I forget my words and then say dumb stuff.”

“I get it. I’m sorry that I cornered you. I guess I have the tendency to be pushy when I’m nervous. I shouldn’t have cornered you, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah well, I should have said something. I liked what we did in the shed and it meant something to me.” You put his hand on your stomach. “You were alive inside me and it was the best feeling I ever experienced.”

Jungkook sighs your name, instinctively drawing closer to you.

“But we also barely know each other as adults. What if we realize that we’re not right as mates once we get to know each other?” 

“I don’t think that will happen. I’m still the same than I was before, just older.” 

“You’re an alpha these days.”

“I am and I’ll use this status to provide for you and to keep you safe. I promise.” 

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at him with those same puppy eyes you had in the shed. 

Jungkook feels weak in the knees. Those eyes are lethal to him.

“Yes, really. All I want is someone to provide for, someone to care for and protect. And for that someone to be you. I just. I wanna keep you safe, ___”, he says.

“Oh”, you let out and exhales shakily.

“Mhm, yeah”, he breathes and brushes the back of his fingers down your temple.

“But”, you begin.

“Yes?”

“But not too much. I don’t want you to get hurt”, you say and trace his upper lip. The cut healed by now, but the memory of how it looked is still in your mind. Jungkook chases your touch, closing his fingers around your wrists. He holds you tenderly, tracing the spots most sensitive with his thumbs. 

“Alright, not too much”, he whispers, smiling softly. 

You share silence, looking at the other. Jungkook is the one to break it. 

“We’ll get to know each other again and it’s gonna be nice. I want to make this work”, he whispers.

“I wanna make it work too. Not for the sake of my safety or anything, but because I wanna love you too.” 

“You do?” 

You nod your head.

Jungkook exhales shakily, closing the distance for a kiss. He stops just a breath away.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

You give him your answer by erasing the remaining distance, connecting your lips with his’. His knees buckle, his arms instantly fall around you to hold you close. The world around you seems non-existent as your lips are lost in the kind of kiss a bonded couple should exchange. It is epic. Jungkook feels so alive. He knows that if he tried hard enough, he could touch the stars. 

You feel the same. This kiss is your reminder that whatever you and he have is out of your control. It is a bond made by fate, formed under a new moon. This is how you felt in the shed when he was alive inside you. 

Those feelings are heightened because of the alcohol, forcing you closer to him. Which makes him lose control for just a second, ending in you pressed up against the swing set post and with his hand on your lower back. 

It knocks out a soft moan from you. Jungkook answers it in a deep purr, sliding his right hand to your cheek to tilt your head higher. He sucks on your lower lip, ending it with a gentle bite.

The effect is instant for you. Slick begins to gather between your legs, your head gets droopy and everything inside you screams at you to give yourself to him.

Breathing shakily, you break the kiss. He stays close, gazing at you with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

“Oh my god”, you whisper, tracing your own lips. They’re tingling from what he did.

“Yeah. Right?” he agrees, scrunching his nose and stubbing your temple with his forehead in a gesture of adoration. “Who’d have known that we’d kiss like this here”, he says, gazing at you.

Your eyes soften in submission. Jungkook feels drawn to you beyond repair.

“Keep looking at me with those eyes and we won’t reach home tonight”, he rasps, touching your waist as he basically undresses you with his eyes. “I’d take you right here and now. Make you feel so good that you see new constellations.”

Drunk you cannot handle talk like this, breaking into giddy giggles and hiding away in his chest. 

“Are you laughing at me?” he gasps.

“No, oh god no. It’s just, nobody ever talked to me like this before”, you explain yourself between giggles, nuzzling closer.

Jungkook chuckles, rubbing your back. 

“Get used to it. I realised that I’m kinda outta control when it comes to you. Maybe it’s the alpha gen.”

“Maybe”, you look up at him with pretty puppy eyes, arms wrapped around his waist and chin resting against his chest. 

He stubs your nose with his own, hands groping your butt possessively. 

“Stop looking at me.”

“It’s hard. When you touch me, I also lose control. I think it’s the omega gen.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just a lightweight.”

“Hah! So you’re saying I’m just drunk?”

“Basically, yeah.”

You snicker, Jungkook grins.

“Come on, let’s go home before I actually do something indecent to you.”

You gladly let him hold your hand now that his kiss triggered your affectionate instincts, following him in happy steps.

Your walk home ends at Jungkook’s house. Two stories high and with a big garden surrounding it, it was one of the more luxurious houses in town. 

“This is where we’ll live?” 

“If you want to. I figured, you know, given how you still live with your parents and I’m living alone, we could use my place. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay.” 

“Yes? Great then we can get your stuff in the coming days. But for now, let me do this right”, he says and swoops you off your feet.

“Ah”, you let out, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. “What are you doing?” 

“Carrying you over the threshold. Why?” 

“Nothing, it’s so”, you stop talking to giggle instead, nuzzling your nose against his cheek. “It’s so cheesy.”

Jungkook chuckles, heart racing in his chest. He kicks the door closed behind him and does a twirl in the middle of his hallway. 

“Wait! I’m too drunk for this! Eeek”, you squeak, hiding away in his neck. “Please stop, I’m too dizzy.”

Luckily for you, Jungkook listens. He stops and sets you down, holding you close as you sway. 

“This wasn’t funny. Oh god, I’m dizzy”, you laugh, dropping your forehead against his chest. He rests his cheek against your head, talking in a chuckle.

“See? Told you. Total lightweight.”

“I’m not a lightweight. You’re just a gremlin”, you say and shove at his chest. He laughs, holding your hands.

“You’re adorable. Come, dance with me”, he says, placing your left hand on his neck and holding the other.

“Dance? Right now?”

“Yeah. Just you and I. We’ll do it right this time.”

“But I’m dizzy.” You step on his foot, making him groan. “And I have two left feet when drunk. Sorry, are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I’m more than okay”, he says, smiling at you as your bodies move to silent melodies.

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine, baby. Just look at me”, he whispers, right hand on your lower back. It is so warm. 

You look up at him. The pull is magnetic and fucking electric. You are so attracted to him. He has you feeling drunker than any amount of alcohol ever could. You are so fuzzy inside because of all the laughing you have been doing. 

“You have the most beautiful eyes ever”, Jungkook whispers, raising your pulse with it.

“Kook, I”, you begin, eyes flitting to his lips. Merely seeing the shape of them is enough to reignite the flames in your stomach. Dancing becomes a little harder now that you are so excited.

“What’s the matter?” he whispers.

“It’s embarrassing”, you confess with a heated face.

“Tell me.” 

“No, it’s so stupid. I don’t even wanna do it but it just happens.” 

He guides his touch from your lower back to your waist. Gentle and loving but insanely possessive at the same time. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

You hesitate.

“Promise.”

“I’m, uh, there is slick.” 

Jungkook draws closer, making you chase his kiss. 

“Shit. There is?” 

“Yeah”, you whimper.

He lowers his eyes, making you taste the idea of his kiss. It makes you so desperate for him.

“Is this normal for you or….” 

You shake your head, “it never happened before. Not like this. Or that easily. I don’t know, I’m sorry, I can’t stop it.”

“Holy fuck. Baby.”

“It’s so stupid.”

“No, it’s not. Just kiss me.” 

You kiss him. At least you try to because before your lips can touch, you step on his toes again. Vigorously.

“Ouch, hey”, he gasps, flinching back.

“Sorry! Oh my god, sorry. Are you okay?" 

“Ah fuck”, he laughs, “yeah, I’m okay. You’re a terrible dancer.”

“Hey”, you pout. 

He chuckles and pecks your cheek.

“I want to show you one thing before we make it official”, he says.

“Show me, please.”

“Follow me. You can leave your shoes by the door.”

Jungkook’s home is somehow exactly how you imagined it to be. It is neat and tidy, but doesn’t really have a lot of character. The rooms are spacious with little furniture filling them. The furniture is modern and there are barely any decorations present. It is the house of someone who doesn’t feel at home in it. The desire to make it cozy and homey for him becomes stronger and stronger within you. There are already a million ideas swarming your head.

“You’re quiet. Do you not like it here?” Jungkook asks you.

“No, it’s not that. I’m thinking.”

"About what?”

“It’s gonna sound silly.”

“Tell me.”

“I already have so many ideas on how to make it cozier here. Sorry, I know it’s your house and everything.”

Jungkook steps close and cradles your face, making you look up at him.

“And it’s your home. Make it as cozy as you want to”, he speaks softly, eyes warm and caring.

“Really?” 

He nods, kissing your forehead.

“This place never felt like a home to me anyway. It can use the caring touch of an omega.” 

You can’t explain how he makes you feel because you never experienced it before. The best way to describe it is cozy and safe. You want to curl up close to him and be yourself with him. This is how he makes you feel. As if you are allowed to be your truest You. 

“Speaking of cozy omegas, we’re here.”

“Here where?”

“My surprise for you. I worked hard on it these past few days.”

He opens the door for you, allowing you view of one of the coziest rooms you have ever seen. It is filled with soft surfaces to lie on. A bed, a big sofa, some bean bags, a window bench. Curtains frame the window and the bed. The floor is covered in soft rugs. There are pillows to sink into on every surface and he installed fairy lights on the wall and the bed frame. 

“What’s this?” you gasp.

“It’s your nest.” 

You look at him. He is clearly nervous, smelling of it as well.

“I’m still new to the entire omega heat thing. I know that they’re a thing, obviously, and I know that you like to get cozy for them. I looked up nest inspirations online. It told me that you like lots of pillows and blankets and that I should make it cozy and warm. You can totally change everything in this room, of course.” He touches the side of his neck. “I just thought that I’d try to make it comfortable for you. At least maybe? I don’t know, I just wanna make it nice for you.” 

Your lower lip trembles.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna make you cry. Is it that bad? I’m sorry, I suck at interior design.”

You shake your head and fall around his neck, “thank you.” 

Jungkook closes his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your neck. You smell of happiness right now. 

“Does this mean you like it?” he asks.

“I love it so much. I never had a nest before. I’m so happy.” 

“You are?”

“Yes, so much.”

You step back, giving him a smile. Jungkook retorts it. You giggle and turn so you can hurry through the room.

Jungkook watches you, enjoying the droopy feelings in his chest. The longer you are in the room and the more details you spot, the stronger your scent of happiness gets. It almost fills up the entire room by now, making him feel so warm and complete. He feels at home in his house for the very first time.

“This is so cozy, oh my god. So soft, wow. I love this colour, holy moly. Wow. So cozy. Wow”, you gush and gasp as you inspect everything and anything. 

You end up dropping into one of the beanbags, nuzzling into it as deep as possible while you purr in contentment. 

Jungkook feels his knees buckle. He got you to purr. Holy fuck, he was seriously placed on this earth to treat you right. 

He closes the distance between you and him, kneeling down in front of you. He comes closer, putting his weight on his elbow which he rests on the beanbag above your head. He leans down to kiss your cheek. 

You stop your nuzzling, gasping quietly as his sudden closeness surprises you. You look up and can’t look away again.

“You’re the most beautiful bride I have ever seen”, he whispers, cradling your cheek with his other hand.

“Oh”, you let out, feeling dizzy. 

“No wonder I had to kiss you.” He furrows his brows. “I know I shouldn’t have done this and I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not angry anymore. You built me a nest”, you tear up, “Jungkook, please give me my bonding night. I want to be with you.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“So sure, please. I can’t take it anymore.” You shiver. “I keep producing slick and I’m so cold without you and, and I wanna feel that good again. Like we did in the shed. I, I wanna feel like this again. Please.”

Jungkook closes his fist on the beanbag, trying to keep himself at bay. His instincts threaten to kick in when you beg like this.

“Do you want it here?”

“Yes, please.”

“And you know what I’ll do to you? What might happen again?”

You deepen the lethalness of your puppy eyes, taking his hand to put it over your stomach. You whisper your words, turning him into puddy.

“I want to feel alive again. Together with you.” 

“Holy fuck, ___”, Jungkook croaks and goes in for a kiss. He growls and stops himself. “I need you to say that you understand. Please, don’t make me do it without hearing it first.”

“Yes, Kook. I know what you’ll do to me. I need you to, please.” 

“Thank you. Oh my god baby, I wanna treat you so right”, he croaks out and finally falls into the kiss. “I’ll never ever force myself onto you again. Never. Fucking never. Holy fuck, baby”, he babbles between kisses, turning you into a weak, turned on mess. “Wanna treat you so right. My baby. Mine.” 

His touch is everywhere at the same time, unable to decide where to find its home. It feels so good. Each spot he touches, tingles and heats up. Whenever he changes spots, it leaves behind shivers and goosebumps before the entire process repeats itself again.

You want to keep kissing him, but soon have to stop because of his touch. You have to gasp for air, you would suffocate otherwise. 

Jungkook, barely holding onto the threat of humanity by now, doesn’t see any problem in being denied your lips. He kisses a path to your neck hungrily. Your aroused smell becomes stronger and stronger the closer he gets to your scent glands. He knows how good it feels when someone kisses his scent spots and he wonders if it is the same for you. 

He kisses the spot on your left side, forcing you to arch your back and gasp loudly. You instinctively grasp his back.

“Do you like this?” he rasps his words, nibbling on the sensitive spot. You smell so good. Jungkook has never felt such an obsession with another’s scent before. He needs it all over his body, melted with his skin so everyone can smell who his heart belongs to. He can’t stop kissing you, picking up more and more of your scent.

“Does this feel good?” he asks again because you were too busy gasping the first time.

“Ye-yeah”, you gasp out, staring at the ceiling in shock. Your fingers twitch and tremble on his back, claws threatening to come out and slice open his shirt. 

What is happening to you? You were kissed on your neck before, but this feels different. This feels lethal, fateful, like it is changing the way you view pleasure. You have never felt so electric before and so close to losing control. 

“You smell so good, I can’t get enough.”

“Wow, oh god, wow…”

Jungkook stays on your left side until he can smell your arousal on his lips. Only then, does he kiss a sloppy path to your right side. He moans when he witnesses you roll your head to the side willingly and he moans again when he goes in to worship your hard working scent spot. And it is working hard. Fucking hell, you smell like pure sex and arousal. Jungkook huffs it up hungrily, biting and licking at the delicious spot. 

All while you stare and gasp and lose control over yourself. The bites feel so good. You want to squirm and moan. Your head is fuzzy, your body so weakened. What is happening? What the fuck is happening to you? You can’t stop producing more slick. You are so hot. Seriously, so fucking hot. Oh god, you can’t think anymore. Anything you can think is how much you need him to fuck you. 

“Seriously, fuck”, Jungkook comes up for air, mouthing at your cheek drunkenly, “you smell so good. I feel high.”

“I wanna be naked”, you croak out, arching your back. You don’t have many thoughts except desire and sex. Being naked is all you crave right now. If you’re naked, Jungkook can potentially bite more parts of you. This is the logic of your fuzzy mind and it is driving you crazy that it isn’t your reality yet.

“Sit up then and let me open your dress.”

You obey gladly, almost dry heaving in desire. Jungkook reaches behind you and opens your dress. He wanted to pull it off slowly to make the moment romantic, but you shrug it off quickly for him. 

He meets your eyes. They are golden and clouded in desire.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks.

“Why not?”

“I never saw you naked before.” 

“Oh.” A little clarity returns to your eyes. “Right.”

He can smell hints of coyness in your scent. And a little bit of nervousness. 

“Wrap your arms around me.”

You obey his order and like this, Jungkook is able to lift you out of your dress and carry you to bed. He lays you down carefully, straddling your lap without sitting down. 

You are below him in nothing but your underwear, feeling small and fragile, but so safe. 

“Do you wanna take it slower?” he suggests.

“No, just nervous that’s all.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. We can slow down whenever you need to.”

“Okay”, you whisper and make puppy eyes at him, “can you, uhm, can you bite me more?” 

“Yes. Wow this is…hah. Of course”, he lets out, “first, let me match you.” 

He is getting undressed. First his tie, then he opens his buttons. His shirt leaves him first, next his belt and last his slacks. He stays in his briefs, heavy cock straining the fabric as much as he soaks it. 

Now sharing in your state of undress, he leans down, taking your hands to pin them gently. He kisses you, blurring your thoughts into one big mess of arousal and safety. His thumbs caress your hands as he kisses you. Your scent is on his face, forcing even more slick to run out of you. Any sort of nervousness you felt is getting wiped out with each new kiss you share. He tastes so goddamn good. His lips are soft and the piercings on them are so exciting to feel.

The kiss breaks when air is sparse. Jungkook stays close to paint paths of worship down your body. He bites the softest spots and sucks marks of ownership on the firmer spots. And you are in heaven, wishing for him to never stop. Such heavenly feelings are unfamiliar to you. You had people mark you before, but it didn’t feel like this. With Jungkook, you need him to continue. You need to know that every single inch of you is marked by him in one way or the other. Whether it be a bite mark, a kiss spot or his scent, you need it on your body and each time he gives it to you, you leak more slick. It is out of your control, unfamiliar and amazing. So amazing. 

Jungkook is lingering over your sternum right now, hot breath tickling your skin. His strong hands are holding you under your armpits, reminding you that you were owned by the safest lover. 

“I know it’s difficult for you, but please stop me if I go too fast. I can’t stop myself once I let go, so I need you to yell it at me.” 

“Please. Don’t stop. Please, you feel so good”, you sigh, writhing.

“Wow, I….fuck, I want you”, he rasps, having to kiss every inch of you. “I want you. I want you so bad.” 

“Ah…please…don’t stop…”

Jungkook reaches your breasts. They are swollen and plumb from arousal. They aren’t always like this. When you are feeling normal, they also look and feel normal. They are how breasts are supposed to be, sagging from gravity and soft when lying down. Not right now. They stay in place. They are a little bigger, plumber and hot to the touch. They also smell like your arousal. Even through the fabric of your bra. It is so much sweeter and richer than it was on your neck. Jungkook moans like a druggy having found his drug, going in for a taste with an open mouth and way too much tongue. 

“Ah”, you whimper, following it up with a submissive mewl. You are losing control again and it feels so good. Why does everything he does feel so good? It is as if you are a virgin being touched for the very first time, which is insane because you definitely aren’t. 

“Your skin’s so soft and warm. I can’t get enough of you”, he mumbles between his hungry kisses, turning you into puddy. You lost sense of how much more you can still take before you burst. 

His masculine, possessive hands hold your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh desperately. His spit soaks the fabric of your bra, leaving behind spots of coldness whenever he moves on to a new spot.

It happens again. You experience sensations you have never felt before. People played with your tits before, you played with them as well but it never felt like this. It never felt so otherworldly. They are so swollen. You can’t breathe because there is so much pressure building up behind your nipples. You throw your hand over your mouth to muffle the overwhelmed sob, twisting the sheets with your other hand. It hurts. The pressure really hurts not to be taken care of.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to hear your panicked whimper because he doesn’t slow down in his feast. 

“Your scent, I’m so high. It’s insane, holy fuck, so good…” 

It gets too much for you. The pressure hurts so much. You’re scared. What is happening to you? 

Jungkook squeezes your breasts and bites down gently. The pressure bursts. You wail, arching your back as warmth trickles out of your nipples, soaking your bra. 

The sweet scent of it hits his nose instantly. He tenses up and shudders, cock threatening to burst through his briefs.

“What the-”

Jungkook’s instincts tell him to rip your bra off and lick up the sweet scent, but he forces himself to be stronger than them. It is you who lies below him in such a vulnerable state. If he took advantage of that, he would never forgive himself. 

“Jungkook, help me. Please. I’m scared”, you beg him in a quivering voice. 

“Try to focus on me. Focus baby, right here”, he tells you, cradling your cheeks.

Your eyes search aimlessly for a moment, but soon find their home in his gaze. 

“Koo”, you whimper, grabbing his wrists, “I’m scared. What is happening to me?”

“I don’t know. It never happened to me before. My instincts tell me to clean it for you, but I don’t know if you want this.”

“Please, it hurts. Just make it stop, please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, please”, you sob. 

“Sit up.”

You barely manage to obey. Jungkook supports you, using his other hand to open your bra and tug it off of you. He throws it to the side, helping you lie down again. 

Your breasts, normally victims to gravity, stay plumb and perky as you lie down. It is yet another proof that whatever he is doing to you is working beyond comprehension.

“Holy fuck, ___, your tits”, Jungkook gets out, gawking at them in total awe. They are seriously so swollen, your nipples are so hard and they seem to keep leaking pearlescent liquid. “You’re so beautiful, but holy fuck they’re so swollen. Baby, wow.,”

“I don’t know what’s happening. They’re so… so…there’s so much pressure.”

“I can’t. Oh god.”

If only you and he knew that this is happening to you because he stimulated your scent glands. If only you knew that simulation of said glands only works this well with your true mate. You could have a hundred other men play with your tits the same way Jungkook did, but your body would never fall into such helplessness with any of them. Only he will get you to such levels of pleasure. Because it is only his mouth which is destined to taste your sweet pleasure.

You and he are unaware of this fact however, because this is still new to both of you. 

“What, what do you need me to do?” He stutters, salivating.

“I don’t know. Your instincts, I don’t- ah.”

“Right.” His eyes glow golden. “My instincts”, he growls and gives in to the voices. “Stay still, I’ll take care of it.”

He picks up your tits and squeezes them together so your nipples are close to each other. He lowers his dripping mouth to them, taking in your right first but with the intention that your left will follow very soon. 

His instincts tell him to stimulate your nipples with soft bites first until they are throbbing and then change to sucking them. He listens to his instincts, getting you to moan so loudly that his cock throbs painfully.

“Is this working, baby?” he asks, drooling all over your sweet nipples.

“Oh god, yeah”, you croak, arching your back. You twist the sheets, curling your toes. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, Koo thank you…”

“Fuuuck baby, so hot”, he drags out his words until it turns into a growl instead, loving you oh so right.

He bites and bites, licks whenever you sob and bites some more, all while his strong fingers knead your plumpness. And then it happens. You arch your back and wail up as his stimulation finally forces your breasts to tighten and throb. Liquid shoots into his mouth and down his throat. It is the sweetest taste he ever had on his tongue, intoxicating him beyond saving. Jungkook’s eyes roll back, he thinks that for a second he blacks out before he comes back to be totally guided by his instincts. 

He gurgles and moans, sucking the sweet nectar from your right nipple while his fingers play with your left just to keep it ready for him. It is a messy business and whenever he changes sides, he has to lick up the mess he made before he can suck on your nipple. It is not a terrible fate. On the contrary, it’s heaven. For both. Jungkook has never felt this high before while you love his tongue on your body. He is so hot and soft, giving you the perfect contrast to the sharp bites his fangs give you.

“Kook oh god, Kook ah! Ah! A-ah!” 

You spill tears, grabbing your own face to muffle yourself and make sense of what is happening to you. This is life altering. You are in a constant state of genuine orgasmic bliss and it doesn’t want to die down. You can literally feel how Jungkook sucks the liquid out of you, relieving you of the painful pressure as he does it. It helps so much, while at the same time making everything worse.

He might help you with the nectar of your breasts, but your body still keeps producing slick. And it is getting dangerously full inside you. Your panties feel like imprisonment to your cunt. 

You twist a bundle of his hair, sobbing in ecstasy and desperation.

“Koo, I’m scared, it’s so good”, you sob, trembling. 

Your touch motivates him. He is starving for you even though he is currently feasting on you. He seemed to have sucked you dry. No matter how much he bites and sucks, your nipples stay dry. The starvation remains. He needs more of you. 

“More, give me more please”, he orders, growling his words between vigorous sucks.

“I, I can’t. Ah, Kook ah.” 

“Fuck, I can’t stop. You’re so sweet.”

He can’t take a break, he needs more of you. He lets your scent guide him. It gets stronger and stronger, the closer he comes to your cunt. Don’t be mistaken however, it is not your pussy which calls him, but your inner thighs. Your scent glands to be more specific. Working overtime to produce your arousing smell and begging for attention. They are the most sensitive of your scent spots, but you don’t know that yet. You had men kiss you there before, but none of them were Jungkook. None were your mate. 

Jungkook shoves your legs open and buries his face in your right thigh with a growl. His fingers dimple your softness, his fangs tickle your skin. Not long and he bites you. 

Your entire body reacts to it. You tense and flinch as if he shocked you, letting out a howl of surprise. Your empty cunt aches, craving nothing more than him.

Jungkook lifts his head, eyes droopy and drugged and lips still glossy from your tits.

“Is like a drug. You is like a drug”, he lulls his words and drops his face back in your thigh. Your left one for a change. He kisses and licks it, grabbing your waist possessively. He holds you with such strength that he even manages to bring it in a little, forcing you to burn in a fire you were never in before.

“I fucking want you, fucking need you, fuck can’t get enough.”

“I’m so hot, I-I’m so hot.”

“So hot, so fucking soft. Fuck, your smell drives me insane.” 

“Oh god, Kook. I’m so hot.” 

The thing about omegas and heats is that it isn’t as common as one might think. Before an omega has reached maturity, heats obviously aren’t a thing. Afterwards, they are manageable when living with other family members. They feel more as if you were bad mooded and grumpy. You managed to sleep them off whenever they happened.

Burning in this unfamiliar fire as Jungkook repeatedly bites your sensitive scent spots makes you realize that perhaps you have never truly experienced a real heat before. Maybe it slumbers in an omega until they are with their true mate. Maybe the grumpy days are just nature’s way of saving the omega of embarrassing moments in front of family.

You can’t explain why you know, but this is it. This is the real deal. Jungkook stimulated your sensitive glands for long enough that he forces you to go into heat. It feels different from anything you have ever experienced, it even feels different from the thing you thought to be your heat when he was with you in the shed. You were wrong back then, this is it. This is the real thing.

And it scares you so much that you beg for him. He comes up when hearing your distraught, cradling your face. He is clearly far away, seeming changed as well. The only thing having forced him away from you is his stronger instinct of keeping you safe. His dark hair is a mess, his eyes are foggy.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he lulls his words. 

“I’m, I’m in heat.”

“What? It can happen like this?”

“When you bit my scent spots, it made me…oh god, please make it stop please.” 

“What, uhm, what do you need?”

“You. Please fuck me. I beg you.”

“Holy fuck, I-” Jungkook stops himself, growling deeply and twisting the pillow above your head, “something’s wrong with me. I’m losing control over myself.”

“Koo”, you croak, touching his chest. He is burning up, muscles swollen and tense. His heart races like crazy, unnaturally fast at that.

“What is happening to me?” he stresses.

“I don’t know.”

If only you and he knew that his accidental efforts of forcing you into heat, forced him into his ruts with you. If only you knew that these are the effects of being with your true mate. If only you knew that the only remedy is sex. But you don’t know and so you and he are fated to stumble through the unknown, still doing the right things because your instincts are stronger than anything else. It is as if your bodies do the talking without you and him having to speak their language yet. It is most certain that you will be fluent in it one day.

“I want to rip your panties off.”

"Please do.” 

Jungkook gives in and does as he wants. He rips your panties off, throwing the thin piece of fabric over his shoulder. He rips off his own briefs next, discarding the fabric. His heavy, thick cock slaps your stomach. He is so big and swollen by now that he can barely stand up despite his hardened nature. His slick pools in your navel and smears all over your skin. 

“Holy fuck, urgh fuck”, he drops his head in your neck, “it hurt so much to keep it in.”

“Kook, you’re so heavy.”

“I know, I’m so hard that I can’t keep it standing. I…” He lifts his head, cradling your cheek. “Say you want me.”

“I want you.” 

Jungkook shifts his hips so his cock probes at your entrance. You whimper and open your legs widely, putting them around his meaty thighs.

“Just the tip”, he whispers.

“What? No”, you get out and pout.

Jungkook chuckles, cradling your cheek.

“You know, like last time.”

“Oh”, a giggle shakes you and makes your face glow.

He chuckles, soaking up the moment of honest happiness like a dried up sponge would water. Each time he hears your laugh, he falls more in love with you.  

“Just the tip when it didn’t mean anything and we shouldn’t have done it.”

Your giggle changes into a sigh of his name. You gaze into his eyes, building soul consuming connection.

“Right?”

“Right.”

Jungkook allows his tip to fill you. Just enough to let you feel that he was finally there with you. You whimper, spilling tears of relief.

Jungkook wipes them, spilling his own tears. He loves you. This is it. The moment it is official that you are mates. And it happens exactly how he always dreamed it would. You under him, looking so vulnerable and safe as he can gaze into your eyes and see your face change in pleasure. 

“This means everything to me”, he croaks out and buries himself inside you to the base. “Ah.” He twists the pillow.

“Oh god. Ah.”

“Too deep? Hurts?”

“No, it’s perfect. I feel, ah, I feel whole.” 

Jungkook moans your name, eyes filling with emotion.

You touch his messy hair, scratching him behind his ear. Jungkook shivers, eyes threatening to roll back. You are stimulating one of his scent spots, forcing him deeper into his ruts.

“Okay. If you. Fuck. This is my scent spot. It feels. Ahm. I, I have to fuck you”, he struggles with his words, cock throbbing inside you as if it had his own pulse. 

Throb. Throb. Throb.

He fills you with more of his slick each time he twitches. It tingles whenever he does.

“Please don’t hold back. Fuck me like you need to, please”, you whimper, shaking in agony. You tickle his scent spot especially good and it’s over for him.

Jungkook’s fingers slip from control. He can’t hold back anymore. He knows that you can take it. 

He pulls out only to slam into you again in a deep, passionate rhythm. In and out. In and out. It is endless and harsh and feels so fucking good.  

Your eyes instantly roll back and stay there. Your fingers dimple the nape of his neck as you clutch him for dear life. Jungkook himself can’t keep his eyes focused, gazing at you through a veil of blurriness.

“Is this good for you?” he gets out through gritted teeth.

“Good”, you wail, writhing in ecstasy.

“Fuck, I’m fucking high on you.”

He thought that he knew the feeling of your cunt but this is different. This actually forces him to listen to nothing but his instincts. He thought that he was out of control in the shed, but he wasn’t. This is it. You are so hot around him, so soft and you are filled with slick to the very brim. It is Jungkook’s task to fuck it out of you in heavy, strong thrusts, making a mess of your bodies and the sheets in the process. He isn’t aware of it yet but this gives you so much relief. You were bursting inside and now it is finally leaving you. There is no muscle in your body which isn’t currently puddy. Everything you exist for right now is to be fucked by him. There is no other sensation to you than that of his thick cock reshaping your insides. 

“Baby, this is a lot. Holy fuck, this is argh”, Jungkook gets out, scrunching his face in anger. He wants to go deeper, but he can’t. It pisses him off, makes him want to break shit. He knows it’s this stupid position. Fucking good for nothing. Who thinks of something that unfavourable? (Jungkook will think back to this moment once he is clear in his head and wonder why he hated missionary so much.) But he hates it right now. He can’t even see himself inside you, his base is barely inside. 

“More, I need more”, he growls and pulls out.

“No please, please it hurts please”, you instantly beg.

“Patient, I’m rearranging you.” 

Jungkook takes your legs and guides them into a better position. You let him reshape you. This is what your body currently exists for and wants. It needs someone as strong and dominant as Jungkook to bend it to his will. Each second where he handles you feels like heaven. 

He puts your legs over his shoulders.

“Hands.”

You obey, giving them to him. He puts them on your own thighs, squeezing them against the back of them.

“Hold them for me there. I want you to feel yourself shake.”

“Yes”, you whimper. 

“Good omega. What a perfect thing you are”, he lulls and slides his hands to your ankles. He picks them off his shoulders and lifts them up. Like this, he opens you for him. Your butt is lifted off the sheets, your cunt instantly gushes out masses of slick. 

“I can’t keep it in”, you confess.

“It’s good, baby. You don’t have to. Relax”, Jungkook assures you in a hungry whisper, eyes a deep gold and mesmerised by you. He moves his hips close and buries his heavy cock back in you. 

You mewl, curling your toes. Slick drips onto the sheets as it makes space for his girthy length, you feel whole again. 

“There we go, fuck”, Jungkook growls and bottoms out. He stays there for nothing but a second before he pulls out again to pick up a punishing rhythm. 

It feels so good that your eyes roll back and you resort to moaning and wailing for him. Jungkook moans with you each time he is deep inside you. This finally scratches the itch. This is finally as deep as he can go. He can finally see himself inside you. Finally he can see how his thick cock reshapes your swollen cunt. He is so big and you take him so easily, moving and trembling around him as he repeatedly pounds you stupid. If you keep this up, he might get pussy drunk.

“I can’t take this. You’re so pretty. Is it good for you?” 

“Yes. More, please.” 

“You’re so perfect. Holy fuck”, he growls and throws your legs over his shoulders to hold your hips instead and pull you onto his cock each time he thrusts into you. You are tighter like this, jerking off his fat cock.

Your voice pitches and rises in volume. You were never fucked like this before. Your needs were never ever getting satisfied like this before. It is changing you and Jungkook makes it even better by taking your clit between his fingers to massage her. She is so swollen and big that he can jerk her off just a little, making you howl. Your hands drop from your thighs just so you can rip the sheets in your attempt to twist them.

You can’t take it. He makes you climax. It is so intense and fulfilling that your sensitive breasts leak again. You howl his name as it happens.

The scent of your sweet breasts and your pretty face sets off Jungkook.

“I have to. It happens”, he gets out and throws his head back. He moans loudly, falling victim to his orgasm. His toes curl for it, his tones stomach flinches.

And because you are currently in heat, existing for nothing but him, his seed sets you off again. It brings you back into this uncontrollable, intense state of bliss you experienced for the first time in the shed. It should be familiar to you by now, but it is not. 

You cry and sob, knowing that you won’t be able to stop orgasming for as long as your body needs to. 

Jungkook knots instantly, cursing so graphically that he is surprised himself. 

“Baby, I can’t stop. I can’t, I’m sorry”, he chants panickedly, unable to stop his hips from rutting into you. It forces his knot to keep leaving you and then popping back inside. The stimulation is unlike anything he has ever felt before, making his toes cramp from curling them so harshly and his hips become even more violent. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it feels so good. Stop me, I can’t stop it”, he apologises because you cry so much. He wants to stop hurting you but he can’t. His hips rut against his will. 

“Don’t stop please. It feels so good”, you release him of his guilt, clenching down on him as he drills his knot back into you.

“What? You’re in no pain?”

“No pain. Oh god Koo, I’m cumming again…Ah!” You have to wail, squirting around his thick knot as he buries it inside you over and over again. 

“Ah! This is the best sex I ever had, oh god”, Jungkook moans, arching his back.

The knot fucking burns so deep in such a good way. You are so empty without him, the breach is so intense and once he is inside again everything is well. Your pussy sounds so wet, squelching around his knot sinfully. This is seriously the best sex he ever had.

“It’s so good, I’m so high”, he growls, following your orgasm with his own. It is so unbearable to keep moving but his hips have a mind of their own. They keep rutting and fucking even through Jungkook’s shakes. “I can’t stop this. Holy fuck, urggghh.“

If you knew that your little stunt in the shed would lead to having your guts knot fucked by none other than Jeon Jungkook, you would have agreed to this bond sooner. Yup, we have reached the point of total acceptance of your situation. Fuck that his father didn’t howl. Fuck that you only married Jungkook because you were forced to. Fuck that this wasn’t meant to happen. This right now is everything which counts. It is making this entire situation right. It was meant to happen.

“Jungkook, I can’t stop”, you sob, grabbing for him helplessly.

“I know. I can’t either”, he gets out, holding your hands and pinning them above your head. Like this he is lying himself down on you, folding your willing body in half and burying his knotted cock so deep inside you that you feel him against your cervix. In your state, lost in heat and his seed, it is the highest level of pleasure he can give you. And you thank him with loud cries and your claws digging into his hands against their will. 

His own claws come out to play. He angles his hands so they wouldn’t hurt you. Like this, your hands are under his’, shaking and twitching as he brings you over one edge after the other.

“I can’t stop. Jungkook please help me”, you wail.

“You’re safe. I’m here. Baby, I’m here”, he soothes you and shakes as he manages to bury his knot in you again. You are getting tighter and tighter and his knot more and more sensitive. “Urgh, baby you’re making me- ah!” 

He loses control, pumping your belly full of his hot cum. Now that he is pressed against your cervix, his seed pushes its way right past it, giving you the feeling of being alive you so dearly craved. Of course it sets you off again, of course you cry as if you never had an orgasm before and experience it for the first time. Of course it sets him off again. Of course all of this is happening. It was meant to happen. Of course it was. 

And as you cry and sob in relief and bliss, Jungkook can barely stop his claws from hurting you. He grew in size and strength. Your small, fragile body is in danger of being crushed under him. 

He does what he needs to do. Jungkook grips the headboard, growling like a rabid animal. You are so stretched out, so lose around his knot. And so wet. He can’t stop fucking you with his creamy knot. It feels so good to have you struggle for a second but then take him happily. It feels even better because you moan with such ecstasy each time he drills it back into you.

Jungkook growls and grips the headboard tighter. And tighter. And tighter with each heavy thrust. With each of your moans. Tighter and tighter until suddenly it cracks loudly, breaking into two right under his hand. The bed gives up, forcing you to sink a good ten centimetres. 

“What?” You squeak out, looking around you disoriented. 

“Doesn’t matter. Look at me”, he dismisses it, cradling your cheek tenderly. One might never know that seconds ago he broke the bed with the same hand. “Look at me, only look at me.”

You look at him and fall back into the pleasure, having to orgasm instantly at the sight of him.

You wail for him, watching with blurry eyes as he orgasms as well.

His seed hits you in the deepest parts of you. He fucked you so sensitive that you can feel his thick vein pump it out of him. His knot trembles as it happens, bringing you to your blissed limits.

“Again.”

“Me too. If you- I- me too.”

His hips freeze as he is deep inside you. Your walls tighten and force his knot to stay inside you. He can’t move. It is happening to you as his seed drugs you, his knot does the rest. You can’t stop climaxing. It is finally happening. 

Jungkook whimpers helplessly, dropping your legs and collapsing into you. Your limbs close around him, his own do the same with you. He is on top of you, but gravity forces him to fall to his side and take you with him. You are stuck together, shaking and flinching as your bodies are trapped in the most addicting state of being. You orgasm which sets him off, which sets you off and so on. You should know the drill, but it doesn’t get easier to bear. You drool and sob and moan, holding each other so close that you almost melt together.

Jungkook cries out as an especially strong high hits him, writhing helplessly which ends in your position changed. He is on his back, you serve as his warmest blanket. He hugs you so strongly, knotted cock shaking inside your tight walls. You drool all over his strong chest, feeling far away because you are so close to his scent glands. He smells like sex and ecstasy but also like safety. 

It feels more intense than last time. This kind of knotting orgasm isn’t just sexual, it is also emotional. You want to be close and you are and it is ecstasy. There is enlightenment that what is happening to you only happens because you are with your true mate and this enlightenment makes the orgasms only this much more intense.

The sun is starting to rise once you and he finally come down. You are fucked raw and sore by now, crying into the crook of his neck. 

“Holy fuck baby, urgh. I can’t do it again. I’m cramping”, he says, “sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m sore. Kook please I’m scared.”

“Don’t be, I’m here. Baby, my love. I can’t believe we did that”, he instantly falls into a love drunk, sappy state. He hugs you so tightly, feeling up your knotted pussy gently to soothe her. 

“I don’t wanna be on top, please”, you beg, shivering.

“You’re safe, princess. I’m here”, Jungkook says and changes positions for you. Somehow in a mixture of his strength and your refusal to give up his knot, you and he end up in flipped positions. He is still inside you, keeping you bred and warm. All while he gives you warmth through his body, adoring you right with kisses all over your face and neck. 

“I’m so proud. I’m so fucking proud. Holy fuck, I feel high. You did do well. Oh my pretty princess. My baby love”, he whispers between his loving kisses, hands caressing your sweaty, sore skin gently. 

This is instinct as much as it is his heart’s desire. He wants to soothe you, adore you, bring you down gently after lifting you so fucking high. He isn’t aware of how important this is to you. You feel so vulnerable and emotionally sensitive. It would be the same thing if someone decided to start open heart surgery on your aware self. This is how vulnerable you feel and it is Jungkook who makes it okay. It is Jungkook who calms you down and reminds you that you are allowed to be sensitive because he is there to protect you.

“I can’t comprehend this. I feel high. Wow baby, wow. How do you feel?” he babbles.

“Vulnerable.”

“Oh baby, I know. I’m here. Your Kook is here”, he assures you, nuzzling his nose against your scent spot. He hopes that if he nuzzles it long enough, he can spread some of his relaxing scent on you.

It works. Of course it does because your bodies need no instructions to communicate. It is natural and right and makes you and him feel fuzzy. 

You sigh. Jungkook smells the relief against your neck. He kisses a path to your face. Your glassy eyes await him,  eagerly building connection once they can. 

“Thank you”, you whisper.

“No, I have to thank you. This was the best bonding night ever.”

“No, thank you”, you insist, spilling tears 

Jungkook wipes them, knowing that you want to tell him something.

“For what, princess?” 

“For, for making me feel like this. I, I was never in heat like this. I didn’t know that I could and it makes me feel really vulnerable. But you’re so gentle with me and it’s so nice.”

His eyes soften. He whispers your name adoringly and kisses your forehead.

“I feel the same. This was my first rut ever. I didn’t think that it would be so intense.”

“Kook, I’m scared. I don’t know what this means.”

“Don’t be scared, I’m here.” He kisses your nose, stubbing you with his own afterwards. “We can ask someone about it, but all I know for now is that I don’t wanna fucking stop having you close.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

He kisses your lips, making your heart race and feel at home. He breaks the kiss gently, giving you the fondest and warmest smile ever.

“I’m so proud of you. You did so well, my princess baby.”

“Oh wow”, you get out, having to giggle. 

Jungkook giggles with you, smiling as he steals a cheeky kiss. Afterwards he sits up. He is still connected with you by your middles, making you gasp and shiver.

“Sorry, I shifted. Are you okay?”

“Yes, oh god. What is happening to me? I feel so comfortable.”

Jungkook smiles, caressing your sides. He can’t stop looking at you. Your breasts are normal again, natural victims to gravity and so soft. They are still messy and wet from what happened before but nothing new leaves you. Your belly is bloated from his seed and covered in a layer of sweat. No wonder you sweat so much, you were burning up. Jungkook dances his palms over your bloated stomach, furrowing his brows in emotion. 

“So alive”, he whispers.

“So alive”, you sigh, placing your hand over his’. 

“___”, he says and meets yours eyes. 

“Yes?” 

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I didn’t get to say it as we were doing it because I was dumb in pleasure, but you are so beautiful.”

“You think so?” 

“I do. I can’t believe that you’re real and, and that you allow me to see you naked. I just”, he exhales shakily. “I’m just so happy”, he chokes out, throwing his hand over his eyes to hide his tears. 

“Kook, don’t cry”, you gasp and pull him down to you. He falls to his elbows, allowing you to hold his hands above your head. 

He is pouting and sniffling. You give him a  smile.

“Don’t cry.”

“They’re happy tears. We’re bonded, I’m so happy”, he says and smiles through his pretty tears. 

Your smile grows, you squeeze his hands. He was right when he said that you and he will get to know each and that it will be nice. You can feel it. You are right for each other. You are so right. 

You put your legs around him and push him deeper again. 

“Oh”, he gasps, squeezing your hands, “wo-oah this felt really intense”, his voice quivers as he speaks.

“It does”, you agree, rolling your hips up.

Jungkook gasps, “what are you doing?” 

“I want more of you.”

“Really? Baby, you’re sore. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Please. Be gentle. Please make love to me, Kook baby.” 

Jungkook spills tears, whimpering your name. This is everything he ever wanted. He pulls out of your sensitive warmth to thrust into you. 

Crack! 

You and he scream in shock as the bed finally gives up completely and comes crashing down onto the ground. Jungkook keeps you safe with his arms around you and your head cradled against his chest. 

You and he share a moment of shocked and disoriented silence before you break it.

“Oh my god”, you let out, breaking into loud, honest cackles. Jungkook looks at you, having to break into laughter as well.

“Did we just get cock blocked by the bed?” 

“I think so. It might be my fault. I kinda broke it when I fucked you with my knot. Sorry.”

“Oh god, Kook.”

You laugh oh so loudly, throwing your head back for it. 

Jungkook has to almost squeak as he laughs with you, heart bursting in his chest. 

“This is so funny. Oh my god.” 

“Yeah, it’s hilarious”, he agrees and goes in for a surprise kiss. 

Your laugh cuts off, a gasp replaces it. Your eyes fall closed and your hands bury themselves in his soft hair. This kiss is emotional and it is deep. It has meaning. It is happy and filled with love. Jungkook lets you experience it to its fullest, ending it with a stub of his nose and a smile. 

“I promise to fix it. I’ll add steel in the frame.”

“So you think we’ll break it again otherwise?” 

“Yeah.” He laughs breathily, nodding his head. “If this is how it feels to be with you during stimulation induced heat, imagine how it will be once it’s your natural heat.”

You gulp, gazing at him dreamily. The rising sun shines on his face, making his skin glow golden. 

“Koo, I think you need to heat proof this entire room”, you whisper, making him chuckle and nod his head.

“I will. I’ll make it safe and cozy. Shit baby, I can’t stop saying it. You’re so beautiful. The sun is shining on you and you’re so beautiful.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, looking at him shyly 

“You’re beautiful too”, you whisper, making him blush. 

“Wow, thanks”, he mumbles, scrunching his nose. He does a little shift to be closer to you. The bed croaks and punishes him for it by making the headboard drop. He catches it before it can fall on top of you

“Piece of shit bed.”

“Oh god”, you laugh “I think we need to take care of this mess first and then continue.”

“Yeah shit, I think you’re right. The bed’s out to get us.” 

You laugh and snicker, kicking your feet happily. He chuckles and shoves the headboard to the side. 

“Come on, let’s take a shower”, he says and picks you up.

You nuzzle into him, feeling beyond safe.

“Do you have snacks too? I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning.”

“Of course. You know what? First fact about me? I’m actually a really great cook.”

“You are?” 

“Mhm, I’m also a total foodie. So if you wanna bribe me into snuggles, get me food and I’ll be the cuddliest boy ever.”

You snicker. It makes your heart flutter when he talks cute with you.

“Do you like food?” he asks.

“Yeah, I like food. It’s comfort.”

“Yeah, right. Do you like cooking together?” 

“I never did it before.”

Jungkook holds you closer.

“Then I know what we’ll do. Shower and cook and I get to give you kisses. And later when you’re not sore anymore, I’ll make that gentle love to you. If you want me to.” 

“Yeah, I want you to. This sounds so nice. Koo?”

“Yes, love?” 

“It’s gonna be so easy for me to fall in love with you.”

“Wow, you. Urgh, you drive me crazy you”, he gets out through gritted teeth and presses you against the next best wall to attack your face and neck with tingling kisses.

You squeal his name, having to laugh in giddiness. It will not be the last time that you laugh because of him.

[sadagios]

Icarus, and the Sunflower

A Desert Duo/Scarian AU about an avid player meeting his favorite, comfort character in a death loop video game.

I can’t write a fic, nor have time to draw comics like i used to, so we are doing bullet points on a tumblr post

PART ONE: BEFORE THE ALPHA TEST

PROLOGUE: PART TWO

2.1k words below the cut

SOME BEGINNING NOTES: - This AU is only character shipping, and references a lot outside the life series events (evo, hermitcraft, empires, etc). This is not meant to ship the CC’s themselves and if anything alludes to it, it is purely unintentional. - This is not canon-compliant ermmmm i do what i want and i will put every idea i have into this - Tags for this part? Game dev AU, Grian is whipped for Scar, some characters are real and some are fictional, this is only the prologue, absolutely not beta'd i only have one impulsive braincell

A. Gria

Gria is a single man in his late 20s; he works at a game company called E.V.O. Games (Entertainment Virtual for Everyone). He was an architecture graduate who dabbled in game dev in his spare time during his undergraduate studies. Although he didn’t pursue that path, he utilized his skills in level design. He used to work in several indie game companies, one of which was a company founded with friends, before he was hired by E.V.O. Games. He was excellent at his job, and his ideas and inputs always improved whatever project he worked on. Because of this, after a few years, he was promoted to creative director.

His latest project was “The Evolutionists’ Portal,” a 3D pixel-style puzzle game in which the player has to navigate the world to find portals hidden in each level, and these portals progress the game. With each portal traveled into, the world becomes bigger and more complicated, making each portal harder to find. However, with multiplayer, this task is easier through working together (and doing fun shenanigans together).

It had a buggy release, especially for multiplayer, but it built a decent player fanbase; the story itself was short and simple, but it was replayable thanks to its multiplayer mode.

For visualization, it’s 3D with a top-down perspective like “Pokemon Diamond/Pear/Platinum” but has gameplay similar to “Stardew Valley”

Gria and his team get along well, and he is quite close to some of them:

Martyn: an audio engineer. This is the first game he’s worked on since he was first hired in the company.

“Big B”: a VFX artist. He and Gria joined the company around the same time and bonded over stressful deadlines and annoying seniors when they started out.

Jimmy: the project manager. Although Gria takes a lot of joy in teasing him, he is hardworking and great at keeping everyone in check with the calendar. Out of everyone, he is the one Gria is closest with. He also works on another game by the company called “Empires.” 

Pearl: an environment artist. She joined the company a bit later in the development. It is her first time dealing with pixel graphics but she did it incredibly well. She also works on “Empires” with Jimmy.

“Empires” is a free-to-play fantasy open-world action gacha RPG. It is the biggest game of the company and their title game. 

For visualization, it’s just “Genshin Impact” and “Honkai: Star Rail”.

Recently, there was a buzz around that their game, “Empires”, will have a collaboration event with another big name. Gria was too busy and overworked to take notice of this, though. 

The fruits of his labor later came as game nominations for “Best Multiplayer” and “Best Audio Design.” Gria was happy their work was acknowledged by players worldwide, even if they didn’t win.

B. Hermitopia

After so long, Gria finally took a week off. It was foreign to have no obligations for even a day. He doesn’t use this time to travel; instead, he sits at home and lurks on the internet to keep up with gaming news and updates. He uses the username “Xelqua” with a red macaw as his profile picture.

He stumbled upon a “Redstone tutorial” post by the user ”Potatonutshell”. Curious and intrigued by how such a complicated contraption is possible in a game (and bored out of his mind), he asked this user what game it was for. Potatonutshell briefly, and over-excitedly, DM’d Gria with a huge wall of text about this game called “Hermitopia 6.”

In the beginning days of his break, Gria spent time messaging this Potatonutshell fella, named “Mumbo.” Mumbo named himself after a character named “Mumbo Jumbo”, who is one of the most skilled “redstoners” in the game. He related heavily with the character and took a lot of interest in the redstone circuitry game feature as he is a programmer in real life. Gria thought the game was interesting, but not enough to install a 36 GB game for $39.99. He changed his mind when Mumbo told him more about the game, especially its base-building mechanic.

“Hermitopia 6: Hermit Civil War” is an open-world fantasy action RPG known for its base-building core mechanic. It is the sixth game in the franchise, and each game starts in a brand-new world. The player and the lovable NPCs are called hermits, a band of humans, fae, hybrids, and other species who live together on an island and work together to live a sustainable life amidst the hostile creatures that roam the world. 

For visualization, it’s like “Skyrim” with “Baldur’s Gate 3” graphics and dialogue UI.

Gria planned to try it for a few hours, only humoring his new internet friend, until he met this beautiful NPC named “Scar Goodtimes” — a human-vex hybrid with scars all over his “handsome face and carved body”, as Gria would personally describe him. He was also a builder who lived near Gria’s very odd underwater base. Throughout the remaining days of his break, and his weekends after that, Gria played Hermitopia 6 religiously.

Scar calls him “GRIAN”, which was a typo error — Gria pressed enter early in the name selection screen and he didn’t realize it until Scar first mentioned his name 3 hours into the game. He can’t be bothered to fix it, though (and he's grown fond of it.)

Gria continued to play the game in his free time, slowly falling in love with the game as he kept on playing. He also kept talking to Mumbo, who he fanboyed about the game with. He found out that Mumbo lived close by too, so they hung out frequently and bonded over the game.

Gria: I genuinely thought you had a big mustache, y’know, like Mumbo Jumbo. Mumbo: I do too! It’s... it's there! [he shows his very faint mustache] It's there! Gria: sure.

Xelqua started off as a lurker, to an active Hermitopia fan account. He was interested in the base-building aspect of the game and shared his designs online.

Hermitopia is not a dating simulator. There is no romance mechanic in the game. Anyway, Gria installed (and tweaked) a romance mod because no one can stop him from flirting with his fictional vex boyfriend.

Mumbo: Grian, if I hadn't met you personally, I would've pictured you as a crazy Scar fanatic. Gria: Wha— How— I’m not crazy. Mumbo: You downloaded a romance mod just to flirt with Scar and commissioned an artist to draw a scene from it, and now you have it framed on your bedroom wall. So, Grian, I think that’s crazy behavior. Gria: … I do what I want, Mumbo!

Gria's love for the game and Scar grew more as another hermitopia game was released (Hermitopia 7). Then, he, as Xelqua, became a notorious name because of a supposedly harmless poll about the sexiest character in the game. He was known as the insane Scar fan.

He's got every Scar merch, though there isn't much Hermitopia merch released in general. However, if someone posts about a new Scar fan merch, a certain username might appear in their notifications, like a hound trailing a scent. Haters and trolls are also dragged to hell and back because, if they aren't regretful after being berated by this insane man, they will not be able to surf through the web in peace as long as Xelqua holds a grudge. 

As insane as this Xelqua person is, Scar had become a popular character within the fandom, compared to his old status as an underrated sweetheart without much attention or fanfare thanks to Xelqua constantly (for years without missing a day) talking about him. Xelqua also organized or helped some Scar fan events and constantly supported merch creators with hermitopia merch (especially if it involved Scar.)

User Xelqua, about Scar: He is my little sunshine, my precious sunflower. He might’ve killed some men, but he was hot while doing it.

C. The Collaboration Event

Back to Game dev stuff, Gria isn’t open about his current obsession with his coworkers. When the collaboration event with the “Empires” games was finally announced, two representatives from the other company came to visit. “Skizzleman” has been a writer for Hermitopia since the 3rd game. A character from Empires, Gemini, will become a new character in the next Hermitopia game, and there will be a DLC that will add a new small map with many biomes and new materials. In Empires, Hermitopia characters will be featured in a limited-run gacha banner and a limited-time story event. 

Now a Hermitopia fan, Gria tried to interview Skizzleman about the game (while making it not obvious how obsessed he is with it). Skizzleman was the one who wrote the lore for “Impulse” as well as most of his dialogue throughout the games.

Another representative for Hermitopia, the lead designer Joel, came to visit for the collab event. He is a fanatic of Empires and a diehard “Shadow Lady” fan, which is why he is so excited to work with E.V.O. Games for the collab.

Accompaniment art for this here: link

Gria was never into gacha games, but with a mix of Pearl and Jimmy convincing him to try the game they worked on (not to mention the fact that it is free-to-play), and showing him an initial sketch of what some hermitopia characters will look like in the game (this isn’t allowed, but Jimmy and Pearl found the thought of their serious coworker playing a gacha game amusing), he finally caved. Little did they know, showing a topless concept art of Scar is more than enough to reel him in.

When the collab update was finally released, Gria grinded Empires just to get Scar. He practically paid his own salary back to his company just to get Scar to max level and his additional skins. (He loved his new “HotGuy” skin the most)

With the release of “Hermitopia 8: Moon Collision” and the introduction of co-op multiplayer mode, Gria invited Pearl to play with him with the excuse that they're only going to see how Gemini looks in the game. Gria successfully got Pearl hooked on the game.

D. The Watchers Studio

Before Gria properly applied to a game company, he developed small-scale games with his high school friends. They called themselves “The Watchers.” He met them in a small art club and they bonded over their favorite games. Gria’s favorite game growing up was an old zombie game with a title he can no longer remember.

One of their unfinished games was “The Life Game.” It was a battle-royal death game where the players had to gather resources and have limited lives.

Two of their old friend group recently reached out to Gria to catch up. They said they wanted to work on “The Life Game” again and wanted to ask Gria if he wanted to join again. Of course, Gria already had a job himself, so he declined. However, he hung out with the two and checked in with their progress, nostalgia hitting him as they relived their old game ideas.

The two invited Gria to do an alpha test and asked him to invite any friends who might find it fun. Gria invited Jimmy, Pearl, Martyn, and Big B, as well as Skizzleman and Joel who he’s been acquainted with. He also sent an invite to Mumbo, who was unfortunately busy with his job at the moment. 

To Gria’s surprise, the two had turned their game into a VR game. All seven of them played in a medium-sized studio, and although the game was fun, it was nausea-inducing, especially for Joel. They all lost to the Computer-AI characters, which concluded their Alpha Test.

After the meetup, the two lent them their CD copy of the game with the VR Headset they used (which was suspiciously generous of them).

Skizzleman liked the game a lot and asked if they could do it again sometime, which Gria relayed to his two old friends. Pearl shared the same sentiment but is too caught up with work which makes her unable to join their next session.

The gang kept discussing the game they played and its potential to become a hit with a little more polish. This made Gria feel proud of his old team and his past self, reminding him of the time he was passionate about making games despite his lack of experience. 

With limited coding knowledge and a little help from Mumbo, he made a server to host “The Life Game” online instead of LAN. He sent copies to Mumbo and Pearl in case they’d join later. According to the two, the game had more improvements to it since the last time they played it, which was months ago.

Gria had a small voice in his head telling him this was a bad idea— well, he did get a bit sick in the last session, but everyone had fun. So, he ignored the warning bells and hit “Join World.”

This marks the End of Prologue Part One Next Chapter > PART TWO: UNFIXABLE ERROR

ENDING NOTES: I've been brainrotting and hyperfixating on the idea for a while now, and I don't know how to let it all out so I'm going to try out this format. Hopefully I could add more to this! Thank you if you've read this far into the post. :) Made a spotify playlist too in case anyone is interested (I'm still working on this though)

[charliemwrites]

Omegas are the best for the military. Everyone knows that, it’s just common sense.

Omegas are notoriously level-headed and calm, protective without the tendency towards aggression and territorial possessiveness that characterizes their Alpha counterparts. They’re cooperative and adaptable, with heightened senses that at one evolutionary time kept them safe from rabid Alphas.

Now, it’s best suited to sniffing out potential threats, communicating sub-vocally, and noticing the smallest changes in their environment. The military finds them much more economical for combat, special ops, and even espionage compared to Alphas, who are pheromone sensitive, hard-headed, and generally indelicate.

That said, they’re not without their uses. Alphas tend to be lean, fast, and vicious. That aggression makes them both sword and shield in a fight, filing their sense of pain and fatigue down to almost nothing until the threat is neutralized.

Still, having a full-time Alpha in a squad isn’t a necessity except in special circumstances.

Per usual, Task Force 141 is special circumstances.

Four specialist Omegas with a metric ton of trauma per team member has the unfortunate consequence of hormonal imbalance. One thing feeds into another, a heat is put on hold for a mission because they can’t spare the manpower - it stacks and stacks and stacks until sleep is scarce and their usually well-maintained instincts are bursting at the seams. Compound that with the near loss of one of their team members…

The new Alpha is already there when the team returns from their latest assignment.

Laswell is waiting on the tarmac and an operative in black gear is standing a polite distance (plus one step more) from her elbow. Well within peripheral, but deferent. Their hands are clasped behind their back, shoulders straight but loose.

As TF141 approaches, Price expects the Alpha pheromones to waft his way any moment. It’s normal, expected even. A new environment, meeting strange Omegas, Alphas usually burn through their neutralizers quickly. Perhaps a vestigial instinct to carve a space for themselves in the world. Not necessarily their fault, but it happens.

Price is surprised that he smells nothing from the Alpha at all. Just the scents of detergent and soap, clean and standard. A quick glance at Simon confirms their most-sensitive nose doesn’t detect anything either.

Laswell introduces them, an Alpha that she’s personally worked with before and can verify is solid both on and off the field.

The Alpha’s muzzle is heavy duty but long-wear design. Hard-case and rigid instead of the more popular soft and flexible ones. Cushioned but firm at the bridge of the nose, chin, and corners of the jaw. Buckled tight at the back of the head, steel grid pattern across the front.

Price doesn’t arch his eyebrows at it but it’s a near thing.

They duck their head in greeting when Laswell introduces them as Saint, eyes flicking up briefly to each team member, eye-shine reflecting green in the bright runway lights.

Soap whistles, impressed.

“Yer a big ‘un, tha’s fer damn sure. Didnae ken they make ‘em like ye,” he drawls. Ghost cuffs him upside the head, reminding him to behave.

Saint blinks and doesn’t say anything. Curious.

“Let’s do proper introductions inside,” Price decides.

It goes much the same way in the 141’s den as it did out on the tarmac. Saint stands quiet and still while the Omegas take their turns.

There’s no scent to familiarize themselves with, so it’s mostly offering theirs to the Alpha. Except Saint doesn’t duck down to the neck Gaz offers. Instead, they pluck up his hand and bring his wrist to their muzzle. Inhale so quietly that only the swell of their chest indicates that they’re breathing him in.

They chuff softly, hold so loose that Gaz’s hand nearly drops from theirs. It’s approval, it can’t be anything else, but it sounds so… detached.

Still, Gaz chuffs in return, and makes way for the others. Saint does the same to Soap and by the time Simon steps up, he’s already tugging his sleeve up and his glove down.

Simon, to his own surprise, receives the same polite huff as the two sergeants. Most Alphas have found his direct scent to be unpleasant - too sharp and savory, bordering on Alpha. But Saint doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

When it’s finally Price’s turn, the only difference is that Saint swipes their own wrist along his. Scent claim. Not marking the 141 as theirs, but rather Saint as belonging with them.

Laswell, suspiciously amused, takes her leave soon after.

The 141 has an Alpha. A permanent one.

Living with an Alpha would have been a learning curve on its own. Living with SAINT is something else entirely.

For one, they apply clinical-strength neutralizer religiously. They have spares stashed everywhere. In their go-bag, their combat gear, the den, the lockers - even one in Price’s office. It’s better than the ones with fragrance, but if not for their ever-present muzzle, no one would be able to tell that they’re an Alpha.

And speaking of the muzzle.

It goes beyond common courtesy and public conduct. Even in the den, they keep the thing tightly pressed to their face, and don’t remove it for anything. They eat in their room and drink through straws when necessary.

When Price tells them that the team wouldn’t mind if they used a bite guard in the den, they just chuff softly and brush a hand along his shoulder. The muzzle stayed.

It’s not to say they don’t seem comfortable. Day by day, little signs of trust and ease seep into their Alpha’s mannerisms if they know where to look for it. A brush of skin here, a sub-vocal purr there. Spending hours upon hours in the den, available for any of the Omegas to sit with or cuddle or chat to. As much as teammate as an Alpha in the traditional sense.

It doesn’t take Soap and Gaz long at all to start hanging all over them, but Saint takes it with all the patience of their namesake. Price finds Soap lounging in their lap most times that they’re sitting, or leaning hard into their side while they watch recruits.

The muzzle is a no-touch zone, but they don’t get even growl the first time Soap discovers that. They just redirect him with a quiet click of their tongue, and let him nuzzle in when he apologizes.

Gaz is hardly any better, scent marking Saint like some bad Alpha stereotype. Poor thing goes around smelling overwhelmingly of bergamot and honey sometimes, but they never mind, never stop him from pressing his face to their chest or their back or even into their hands. Rubbing his face over any bit of skin or fabric available, even their jugular, despite the vulnerability of such a spot.

Still, Saint is aloof.

They’re perfectly responsive to their Omegas, head tilting at the slightest vocalization, quick to offer physical comfort when asked. They hardly ever seek it out for themself though, and show none of the near-obsessive behaviors associated with even the most mild of Alphas on the spectrum.

“I dinnae think Alpha likes us,” Soap whines one evening.

Saint is eating in their room, leaving the Omegas to a cuddle pile while they wait for their return.

He’s been lamenting it for a while now, repressing the rejected pang in his gut any time Saint doesn’t vocalize back, or reach for them first.

They work out in the Alpha-Only gym on base and do their laundry in the designated Alpha wash. Neither of those are regulations, it’s a choice they make. And it hurts a bit.

Saint is sweet, but their politeness goes past the point of old-fashioned.

“Course they do,” Simon grunts, dismissive. “They probably like us too much.”

“How do you reckon?” Gaz asks.

“Alpha didn’ go t’ eat ‘til we were all fed,” he replies, shrugging.

And it’s true. Saint doesn’t collect a scrap of nutrition until every one of their Omegas has had something to eat. Even Price, stubborn and work-focused as he can be, is gently urged to eat before Saint fills their own belly.

It doesn’t stop there.

Saint is always the last one on or off a transport, and quick to notice if any of them are injured. They’re always present around large groups of other Alphas, especially recruits.

The sheer amount of time they spend available is unusual, preferring the den to rest in their off hours - even sleeping there on occasion.

Then Gaz’s heat is due. A week out and he’s already feeling it descending - it’s been well over six months since his last one. His skin feels itchy, his senses on overdrive. Thirsty and hungry and generally feeling restless beneath the skin.

“Alpha,” he calls.

Saint’s eyes are on him instantly, one-sided conversation with some other, non-Pack Omega forgotten. Gaz purrs, pleased.

“I want something of yours.”

They tilt their head, a silent question.

“A shirt or something,” he specifies.

And something in their gaze flickers. Gaz isn’t sure what it means, but it definitely looks positive.

Saint brings him something better - a blanket. It’s intimate; it’s perfect. It smells incredible, if… oddly faded. From his most reserved Pack member, it means the world.

Gaz balls himself up with it in the nest he assembles over the next day and a half, until he wakes up one morning with the knowledge that his heat will l well and truly have taken hold before midday.

He puts in his notice and calls his Pack.

Saint is the last to enter his barrack, a huge bag of supplies in their arms. Not just for Gaz, but for the rest of them. No one will be leaving unless duty calls.

And it’s perfect. The best heat Gaz has ever had. Surrounded by Pack and protected by his Alpha, who stays on watch while Price and Ghost and Soap fuck him through the dregs of preheat and well into Heat proper.

Half of him purrs at his Alpha’s dedication to protecting them, to providing for them. The other half protests the Alpha’s attention being anywhere but on him.

“Alpha,” he calls. And when that only earns him Saint’s eyes and not his affection, he barks, sharper, “Alpha.”

They come to him instantly, settled in between his legs, smooth their thumbs along the glands at the base of his neck. He curls into them trilling and chirping and needing more than just social acceptability right now.

And finally, finally, a low rumble sounds through his Alpha’s chest. It’s deep and rich, hits the subharmonics in a way that has all the Omegas going still and quiet. Their voice purrs out a moment later, practically vibrating their skulls.

“Easy, Omega.”

Gaz bares his neck, whispering, “Saint.”

They lean in, breathing loud and deep, warm hands soothing an ache in his lower back. “I’m here, Kyle.”

They fuck well into sundown, Kyle so wound up that he can’t bear to be parted from Saint to even let them breathe. Any space between them is whined or growled or bitten out of existence, the ever-indulgent Alpha soothing their Omega with their body, with the newly discovered vocalizations that he just can’t get enough of.

Ghost and Price have to feed and hydrate him between rounds, working together to manage his clingy limbs and careless (but sharp) teeth. In the meantime, Soap helps to do the same for Saint, who is far more cooperative.

“How’re you still goin’?” Soap wonders, amazed, slipping bites of granola between the bars of their muzzle. Saint is sitting upright with Gaz collected against their chest, sweaty but already breathing evenly again.

Saint licks a bit of chocolate off their lip and meets his eyes easy as anything, serene for how blown out their pupils are.

“I’m your Alpha. I go until you need me to stop.”

Which just sets them all off, each taking (needing) a turn with their Alpha.

By then, their neutralizer has begun to wear off, friction and sweat and fabric thinning the chemical deodorant to nothing. The scent is intoxicating, unlike anything any of them have ever smelled before. It’s overwhelmingly Alpha, overwhelmingly good. Even Ghost and Price, rare to bend the knee to anyone, find themselves weak for that scent.

No wonder Saint keeps it on lock, it’s practically a weapon in itself, not demanding submission but expecting it. A foregone conclusion. In a social setting it would be a brutal domination, rude wouldn’t even be the right word for it.

Saint isn’t just an Alpha, they’re on the extreme end of the spectrum.

The kind that comes with counseling and desensitizing therapies. Etiquette schools and specialized doctors.

The kind of Alpha that can not only manage four chaotic Omegas, but give them what they need.

With types like Saint, Alpha isn’t just a designation, it’s a title. And the 141 is proud that it’s theirs.

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ GN reader

Bakugou doesn't tell people about his home life, so you can imagine the Bakusquad’s utter surprise when they invite themselves over only to find out he has a little omega housewife waiting for him.

“Oh, hello,” you say when the four additional Alphas pour in through the door after your Katsuki.

They all look at you unblinking. The biggest one, a redhead, doesn’t seem all that surprised—as though he’d had some suspicion that’s now been laid to rest. But the other three, an electric blond, a guy with raven hair, plus a woman with cotton candy curls, look at you as if they’d just stumbled upon a mouse in a lion's den—all slightly horrified at the sight of you.

Your alpha, the tightly wound grump seething with annoyance, stomps over to you and plants a quick kiss on your hairline. “They just barged in,” he grumbles under his breath. “Sorry if we scared you.”

You hum calmly in turn, “That’s okay. I heard you yelling in the driveway, so I wasn’t surprised.”

The four members of the Bakusquad are all gobsmacked at the domestic sight—the boss, their boss, their hard-headed macho boss, bending over and apologizing to this little omega half his size.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, peaking over the breadth of his hunched shoulders to the others with a warm smile on your pretty face. “I just finished dinner.”

“No,” Katsuki growls grumpily and winds his arms around you—like an old, tired dog, voice gruff, “Uninvited intruders don’t get my dinner.”

You only giggle it off, brushing his stubble with a soft hand, gently handling him further down to your level so you could place a kiss on his other cheek. “Oh, stop, Katsuki. Be nice to your friends.” 

Then you walk off to the kitchen.

Calling out sweetly over your shoulder, “I went a little overboard, so there’s more than enough for everyone.”

And by god, if they don't fall in love with you right then before they’ve even got a single word out.

But love at first sight isn't all so strange. None of them have ever seen an Omega outside of on film—much less been hit with the scent of one. They're all bewitched and confused at the feeling as they trail after you as if they've been compelled by some higher power.

"Please sit," you smile, gesturing to the long table where only two seats have been made. "Katsuki, hon, help me, please"

They all scoot into each their unplaced seat while your big lousy Alpha begrudgingly helps set the table for the unwanted dinner guests. They remain silent as you serve them like the perfect homemaker—all crimson-cheeked and ashamed at how they sniff after you as you pass them by.

You sit just as brightly despite the awkward tension. "Please, enjoy."

They all obey, eating in utter silence—every single one of them trying hard not to stare—and all failing miserably.

Kaminari's the first to speak, having been left shaken by curiosity he no longer could contain.

"So... did he kidnap you, or?"

It's a fair question to some extent. Omega's are a dime a dozen, all regulated strictly by protective institutions. You can't just find one to mate like in the old days. You need to apply for one and be vetted—not to mention they cost a fortune.

"Denki!" Kirishima whisper-shouts in admonishment, shaking his head from across the table.

"What? I'm I the only one who's thinking it?" he throws his hands up and defends.

Katsuki's fist strains around his fork, but you lay your mit atop his, and he calms down shortly.

“Don't worry, Mitsuki and Masaru made the arrangements and paid the dowry," you giggle, running your hand through your Alpha's ashen hair with fondness in your eyes. "I was a graduation present of sorts. They worried Katsuki wouldn't take care of himself once he started working and thought having a mate might help him with his busy day.”

If Katsuki appreciates you spilling his business like that, he doesn't say anything about it—just continues eating.

Denki sighs and sags in his chair. “I always knew Bakugou’s folks were loaded. How nice...”

Sero grins, “Your jealousy is showing.”

Denki pouts, “I’m not exactly tryna hide it.”

"Yeah..." Mina pipes up. "Can't deny I'm jealous, too."

Sero's grin falls as well with his confession, "Yeah, me neither, actually."

You keep smiling sympathetically, "Well, you're all welcome here—I don't mind the extra company."

"Really?" Denki lights up.

Mina and Sero, too—in awe and in unison, saying, "She's an angel."

"Get yer own," Katsuki grumbles. "Now shut up and finish your food. Then you're leavin'—all of you."

"Oh, come on, man," Denki whines. "Have a little pitty for your fellow Alphas."

"Let's stay respectful, guys," Krishima buds in lightheartedly. "Think about what you're asking."

Then, rethinking the conversation, the other three all realized how it had sounded, even though they hadn't meant it that way. And they all blush even darker than before.

And still, you just smile—alphas are all so cute.

Especially your hyper-protective one.

♡ prequel ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Throwback

Male Triceratops Hybrid Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Capybara Hybrid Omega Reader

CW: Noncon, painful to pleasureable sex, mild violence (not towards reader), time travel, sexism, breeding, impregnation, pheromones, a/b/o, musk, scent marking, scent kink, sucking on dem big man titters, biting, bite marking, claiming, exceptionally huge dick, reader inflated with copious cum, knotting

Word Count: 1.9k

(Sometimes I get stuck on WIPs and have to do something new to write again. I wrote this in two days. Hope y'all like it! Please feed me with comments ❤️)

You were an omega demi-human. Part capybara, though the only evidence of this was your soft ears. More importantly, you were a quantum physicist. Currently, you were studying and recreating what you thought to be a time travel device. Your thoughts and theories had been dismissed entirely by your peers. It didn't help at all that you were an omega. Omegas working in academia were almost universally harassed, derided, and treated with condescension. As if their omega brains couldn't work at the same level as betas and alphas.

But even if it wasn't some type of device for traveling through time it was certainly alien to the time period from which it originated. It was made of advanced alloys and components that had been flattened, buried, and heavily corroded over time. The rock in which it was embedded in was older than any ancient society.

You had been working on manufacturing a functional copy of the artifact for years. Shmoozing up eccentric rich fucks, getting help from the exceedingly few colleagues who would help you in any way, slowly analyzing every detail and carefully bringing it all together. And at long last it was complete. The zenith of your career was at hand. And after some cautious testing that you conducted privately, it was ready to show to others.

You managed to get a spot at a small conference, though you had lied about the subject on which you would be speaking, and by the time it was your turn most of the audience had left. Not many academics cared what an omega had to say. Let alone one with a reputation for being a crackpot. But there were still enough of your fellow scientists and this would all be on video.

Instead of introducing the topic of your presentation, which would be a surefire way to lose what people were still watching, you opted for wheeling out your machine onto the stage and stepping in. With a deep breath, you booted it up and the entire contraption disappeared with a flash.

When you exited the machine there was an immediate problem. You stepped out of the machine into a forest with giant trees and flowers. You had only intended to go back a minute to when your presentation started but had made an error. You turned around to step back in but something pulled you backwards by your rear. You fell back and saw before you a humongous man charging at your time machine. He wore only a ragged fur loincloth and swung a massive club. He looked human except for his size, thick tail, scaled arms, and three horns on his head. One large horn from each temple and a small one extending from my nose.

You looked on in horror as he swung a mighty club down upon your only way back to your own time, repeatedly smashing it down until it resembled the exact shape of the artifact that had been excavated in your time. The relic that you had fashioned your own machine after. That wasn't what your attention was on, however. You were much more focused on getting away from the raging beast of a man who could flatten metal so easily.

Though with his task of destroying the frightening affront to nature that had appeared from nowhere now complete, he turned his attention to you. He shouted at you in a language you didn't understand, though his intent was clear. He had a massive erection sticking out from his loincloth and aggressively sniffing at your neck after picking you up with unexpected care.

With exertion of great willpower, the trike-man managed to not breed you silly right there in the forest. Your pheromones were driving him nearly feral. Modern-day omega pheromones were many times more potent than any prehistoric omega. They had evolved through millennia to pique the interest of choosy alphas despite the steep competition, an evolutionary arms race to try to snag an alpha.

That wasn't the only appealing trait. You were exotic, had cute little furry ears on your head, and you were so small, couldn't fight back and act all defiant like the omegas from his time.

You did struggle though. You had seen his arousal and could still smell it. Almost anything would be better than being violated in such a manner by such a hulking brute. He chuckled at your struggles, they were successful only in tiring you out. On the long way to his lair, between your squirming, kicking, and punching, you had gathered that his name was Orryg. At least you thought it was. He did not speak English, but he gestured at himself and seemed to be trying to give you his name.

He found your struggles kinda cute, mistaking them for an eagerness to escape his grasp and get on with taking his cock already. Omegas were so silly.

"Don't worry. Going to breed you plenty. Better in a secluded place."

You had no idea what he said, but his voice was deep and sounded angry so you could only assume it was something in annoyance at your struggles so you went limp. The giant man could snap you like a twig if he wanted to, best not to make him too upset. And honestly, even if you did escape, where the fuck would you go? What if Orryg wasn't the worst thing prowling about in the time period?

The walk went on for a while, with Orryg giving you an occasional lick or mumbling out some words you didn't have any hope of understanding. After a fair amount of time, Orryg stopped to sniff the air. Suddenly there was a roar from behind.

Orryg turned the two of you around just in time for him to take his club and smack it into a man who was every bit as huge as he was. Swatting him away easily despite being similar in size and build.

This one had sharp teeth and clawed fingers. He spat blood and growled. Orryg regarded him with a scowl.

"Udvik! You know this is trike territory!!"

"Omega smells good, not claimed yet. Thought I'd try..."

"Go before I smash you! This is MINE!"

Udvik spat again and hobbled off. But your suspicions had been confirmed, there were definitely things other than Orryg to be worried about in this time period. You were pretty shaken up seeing a half-dino man jumping at you and watching your captor fight him off. With those teeth it had clearly been no herbivore, it probably would have slaughtered you. Your fear must have been evident in your scent because Orryg held you tighter and nuzzled you.

"That battle got my blood flowing, really need to fuck you. Sorry if it scared you, I'll breed you all better. Almost home."

You continued to have zero idea what the hell he was saying. But you figured with the nuzzling it was something comforting. Though your ability to figure anything out was pretty absent by this point. Your brain was soup. All the anxiety and adrenaline and alpha pheromones had finally gotten to you. You looked at the ground in a stupor as he continued to carry you over his shoulder.

The next thing you were consciously aware of was him entering the cave with you and placing his club at the entrance. He laid down on a slab of stone covered in thick layers of soft furs and placed you on top of his muscled body. Before you had any chance to react he began administering attention to your sensitive neck. You squirmed involuntarily, writhing in pleasure on top of him from the neck stimulation alone.

If that wasn't enough, you were practically drowning in his musk. You had been since you entered his dwelling, the cave was saturated in it, but now he was forcing your head under his arm and making you drink it all in. Smearing your face with it and marking you with his smell. Slick was leaking out of your needy hole and pooling on his abs.

"I knew this would make you feel better."

The trance you were in was only partially broken once you felt the blunt head of his much too-large member press against your hole.

"W-wait! I don-"

But he had no idea what you were saying, and even if he did he knew you'd love his dick so much that you wouldn't protest for long. At this point, you were going to be his... no matter what.

You yelped in pain as he pressed into you, spreading you like none of your toys ever had. He swallowed your shout by pressing his mouth into yours, trying to distract you from the pain with a sloppy kiss before attending to your neck again. Despite every instinct telling him to just ram in and ravage you he restrained himself knowing that doing otherwise could seriously injure you.

"Ah!"

Even with his care it still hurt as he slowly eased his prick all the way into you, he rubbed the outline of his cock through your tummy. Lucky for you omegas were extremely stretchy and pliant.

Orryg slowly thrust back and forth inside you as he hungrily took in your scent. As more precum dribbled into you and mixed with your slick you took him easier and the pain slowly began to ebb away and was eventually replaced almost entirely by pleasure. You moaned softly into his chest as you bit at his pec and sucked his nipple while he kept digging his cock into you.

Your whole body shook and spasmed for a solid minute as you came more intensely than you ever had before. Orryg grunted as the feeling of your body convulsing around him brought him nearly to his climax. The trike man upped the pace just a bit, his heavy balls smacking into you before he started knotting inside you and pumping you full of his virile spunk. One small mercy was that his knot was only a bit thicker than the rest of his cock, not over two times as wide like a modern alpha.

The volume of semen was such that it made you look heavy with child, which you certainly would be after lovemaking like this.

Now that you had been well and truly fucked there was only one thing left for your brand new "husband" to do to really seal the deal. He, with great caution, buried his fangs into your neck to mark you permanently as his to everyone who might see you. Which would be more than you might expect. This was Orryg's outpost, he stayed there while on patrol, but he usually lived with his herd.

It would be a hard adjustment for you to make. You would constantly be under Orryg's watchful gaze or the guard of his tribemates when he went to go hunt or if he went to do things too dangerous for you to be with him. You'd never be alone. Even in the safety of the herd, Orryg would obsessively treat you like something fragile. You would have to adjust your diet to what they ate, mostly fruit and vegetables though they ate meat too, though nothing was familiar to you. You would have to slowly learn their language so you could eventually communicate with the new society that "adopted" you.

But it was okay if it took you a while to get settled, you had all the time in the world.

[foreveia]

c(alc)ulus ⤨ tsukishima kei

⨭ genre; hard 2 explain but there's a happy ending so u shld read (jk its a college!au, frat boy!au)

⨭ pairing; tsukishima kei x f!reader

⨭ word count; 9.7k

⨭ descriptions; you're the last person kei wants anything to do with, but not even he can deny it: he, and the entire frat, needs you.

⨭ warnings; frat boy levels of alcoholism, explicit language

⨭ a/n; i love math but love blondes more. i also love rly long fanfics with plot and pretty language and feelings, so hope y'all enjoy this super long mess of a frat!universe haikyuu with college-core drinking habits, calculus talk, and a whole lot of simping for kei <3

song i listened to writing this: 'risk' by gracie abrams

one.

Kageyama is failing calculus.

This statement wouldn’t necessarily be a big deal—after all, he had barely passed most of his classes his whole life, getting into college solely with his athletic skills and having zero intentions to stay in academia in the future. He’s in university primarily just to have something to fall back on, and he has made it exceptionally obvious that he does the bare minimum to get his degree by sleeping through his lectures and procrastinating his homework to the night it’s due. He doesn’t, and has never, cared much about school, and has somehow made it through life anyway, so really, in most circumstances, Kageyama failing a class wouldn’t be a big deal at all. 

However, in this circumstance, Kageyama is also a brother of Kappa Alpha Rho, and therefore his grades reflect not just him but the brotherhood, meaning him failing a class has fully become Tsukishima’s problem, making this, in fact, a very, very big deal. He thinks he’s screwed.

And it’s completely your fault.

Tsukishima glares at the email notification sitting at the top of the screen, clenching his jaw so hard that he feels his back molars ache. 

ASU Policy Update: New Funding Requirements for Student Organizations

He’s already read it twice, but he clicks on it again anyway, as if the words would magically change now that it’s his third try. His fingers drum against the desk, anxious and annoyed all at once.

Effective immediately, all university-funded student organizations must maintain a collective GPA of C+ (2.3) or higher to remain eligible for financial support from ASU. Organizations failing to meet this requirement will be placed on academic probation for a select amount of time, after which, if under the minimum, will be denied funding for the academic year. 

He exhales sharply through his nose and shuts his laptop a little harder than necessary. His knee bounces under the desk as he stares at the wall, running the numbers through his head. A D- average to a C+? That’s not a small jump. That’s a fucking leap.

And it’s because of you. But then again, of course it is.

Tsukishima doesn’t even know you personally, but he knows of you. Everyone at Furudate University knows of you. It’s honestly impossible not to.

Your name gets thrown around like a fucking urban legend: the math department’s golden girl, every professors’ favorite. The kind of student whose name gets printed in bold on the Dean’s List every semester, top of the class in every single way, looking down at everyone else from your haughty position up there.

You’re the poster child for academic excellence, and this is exactly the kind of sanctimonious, holier-than-thou rule someone like you would pass.

He can practically see you in his head, sitting in some committee meeting, smug as you argue for “higher academic standards,” completely unaware of the absolute nightmare you’ve just created. 

He rubs his temple. He doesn’t have time for this. If Kappa Alpha Rho loses funding, they lose access to the house stipend, the event budget, the formal venue deposit—

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, already clicking through the chapter’s internal roster. He zeroes in on the worst grades. Not surprisingly (albeit disappointing nonetheless), Kageyama’s name jumps out immediately.

He has a 37 in Multivariable Calculus.

Tsukishima closes his eyes and counts to five. It doesn’t help. His laptop screen just glares back at him, the double-digits in bright red. He’s dragging the entire GPA down, significantly so. 

So if Kageyama fails, they’re all fucked. 

Tsukishima opens the frat group chat.

(11:42 AM) tsukishima: who here actually passed multi calc

It takes all of five whole seconds before the chat explodes.

hinata: LOL NOT ME yamaguchi: barely but yea? noya: i didn’t even know multi was real lmao

Tsukishima pinches the bridge of his nose. They’re useless. They’re all fucking useless.

(11:43 AM) yamaguchi: wait is this about the gpa thing? are we actually losing funding? tsukishima: we will if kageyama fails calc hinata: bro just make him pass it then tsukishima: do you think i control his brain (11:44 AM) tanaka: wait hold on. are you saying if we fail we’re actually broke?? yamaguchi: tsukki wouldn’t joke about this lol hinata: WHAT DO U MEAN BROKE. LIKE. BROKE BROKE?? noya: LIKE WE GOTTA PAY FOR KEGS OUTTA POCKET BROKE???

Tsukishima watches the messages roll in, each response growing increasingly more unhinged. He feels his blood pressure rising, ticking up with every single one.

(11:45 AM) tanaka: WE CAN’T LOSE FUNDING FORMAL IS IN 3 MONTHS hinata: NOOOO NOT FORMAL noya: NOOOOOOOOOO NOT FORMAL tanaka: WHO THE FUCK IS GONNA PAY FOR FORMAL

Tsukishima sighs, dragging a hand down his face. This is exactly what he didn’t want. The second these idiots realized the frat’s funding was actually on the line, everything was going to implode. Where’s the rest of the exec board right now? He misses them.

(11:46 AM) yamaguchi: okay but seriously what’s the plan tsukishima: kageyama needs to pass calc obviously tanaka: okay but like. how

Good fucking question.

Tsukishima leans back in his chair, thinking. Kageyama isn’t stupid—not in the traditional sense, anyway. He just doesn’t give a shit. If he had a decent tutor, someone to force the information into his thick skull, he might actually stand a chance.

(11:47 AM) tsukishima: does anyone know a decent tutor (11:48 AM) yamaguchi: y/n

Tsukishima physically recoils.

(11:48 AM) tsukishima: like… vpaa y/n??? yamaguchi: yeah?? she’s the best tutor in the math department hinata: wait isn’t she the one that profs never shut up about lol tanaka: bro we’d be paying for a 5-star tutor with beer money noya: u think she’d go for it tho?? hinata: tsukishima just bat your pretty little eyelashes and get her to help us 🤩 tsukishima: i will block you

There is no way in hell he is asking you for help. Absolutely not. Because if there’s anyone on this entire campus that would not hesitate to let Kappa Alpha Rho crash and burn, it’s you.

But then, Daichi—super convenient timing for the president to come in right now—sends the real kicker.

(11:49 AM) daichi: Text Y/N. Now.

Tsukishima grinds his teeth. His fingers hover over the keyboard. For a very, very long moment, he just stares blankly at the screen, until finally, he types.

(11:50 AM) tsukishima: someone send me her number.

And Tsukishima thinks, for not the last time, that he’s absolutely screwed.

two.

For someone who’s actively ruining his life, you’re surprisingly… okay.

At least, you were over text. You responded within minutes, and—without sarcasm, without question, without any needed negotiation—agreed to a tutoring session the next day. 

Tsukishima thinks he should be wary of this. Surely you have some ulterior motive, something that’s meant to prove to him (and yourself) just how much smarter you are than everyone else. 

Ah, yes. That’s probably it. You’re going to use the dumb frathlete to make yourself feel good.

After some contemplation, Tsukishima decides that he should be there. As idiotic and annoying as Kageyama can be, he’s still his brother, and Tsukishima isn’t about to let some pretentious academic just mock and insult him; Kageyama is shitty with words, so the least Tsukishima can do is be there to snap back for him. 

Tsukishima is almost certain that you’re doing this solely to stroke your ego. After all, why else would someone like you agree?

That being said, twenty four hours later, sitting across from you at a library table, he’s forced to admit—begrudgingly—that you’re actually not… terrible.

Tsukishima watches you carefully, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for the moment you slip up—some trace of superiority, some indication that you think this is beneath you. But to his surprise, you don’t smirk, you don’t sigh in frustration, you don’t roll your eyes every time Kageyama gets something wrong.

You’re just… patient. Shockingly, infuriatingly patient.

“Okay,” you say, tapping the corner of Kageyama’s notebook with your pen. “Walk me through your thought process. How did you get to this step?”

Kageyama stares at his paper, scowling. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you got this part right,” you say, circling something in the equation. “So let’s build from here.”

Kageyama frowns deeper, pressing his pencil so hard that the lead tears a little hole—Tsukishima expects you to finally snap, to lecture him for not paying attention, but instead, you just tilt your head and try again.

“I think you’re having trouble with double integrals, so let’s break those down first, okay?” you say, not at all unkindly, before flipping open your notes and locating the respective chapter in the textbook. Tsukishima notices, with mild surprise, that you don’t even have to check the table of contents—you go straight to the right page.

And then, even stranger: your own notes are written beside the original text. Your annotations are precise but casual, breaking down the wordy explanations into clear, digestible pieces; your diagrams take up the margins, and where there’s extra blank space, you’ve doodled functions, arrows, sometimes little stick figures interacting with equations.

Tsukishima shouldn’t care. He doesn’t.

But something about it—about how thoroughly you understand this shit—sticks with him.

And as you start explaining, Tsukishima quickly comes to understand why they call you the best in the department. 

Your voice is even, steady, and you don’t just read from the textbook—you reframe the concepts completely, breaking them down into comparisons, real-world applications, diagrams that actually make sense. It’s the kind of familiarity that takes years of experience and countless hours of practice, and you obviously have gotten to an incredible degree of expertise. And most importantly, when Kageyama hits a block or stumbles over the formulas, you don’t get irritated.

You just adjust.

Again. And again. And again.

Until finally, something clicks.

Tsukishima watches, arms crossed, as you do something no professor, no TA, and certainly no frat brother has managed before: you make Kageyama think. You make him care. Kageyama straightens slightly in his seat, gripping his pencil a little tighter; he scribbles something down, then nods to himself, like he actually understands. 

Tsukishima leans back, exhaling through his nose. 

He hates to admit it, but Yamaguchi was right: you really do know your shit. 

three.

An hour passes like this. Slowly, but gradually, Kageyama works through his problem set, stopping every so often to ask questions. You answer every single one without hesitation, without even having to double check, with the complete confidence of someone who simply knows that they’re right. 

Then, completely unprompted, you ask, “So, do you play volleyball?”

Kageyama pauses mid-writing. The question catches him off-guard—catches both of them off-guard, actually.

Tsukishima gives you a sharp look, but you just smile, amused.

“You retained information best when I used sports analogies to explain,” you continue, tapping the end of your pen against the table. “And when I used a volleyball as an example for triple integral applications, you corrected me on the radius in like, two seconds.”

Kageyama blinks. Then, looking somewhat sheepish, he mumbles, “Wow, that’s crazy. I’m on the university team.”

“That’s cool,” you say simply, clicking your pen. You doodle absentmindedly on an extra sheet of paper, this time drawing a little volleyball in the corner. “Our executive VP is on the team too. Sakusa.”

Kageyama hums an affirmation. “Yeah, we’re both starters.”

“As a sophomore? That’s really impressive,” you say. Tsukishima thinks that you’re pretty impressive too, considering you’re a sophomore just like them, but you don’t seem to be even thinking about that. “Why are you taking calculus, then? What’s your major?”

“Physics and kinesiology.”

“I didn’t peg you as a STEM guy,” you muse, still sketching in the margins. You’ve now switched to drawing a little banana.

Tsukishima, despite himself, huffs a quiet laugh.

Kageyama flushes slightly. “I, um, want to go pro after college,” he admits, ears bright crimson as he speaks. “So kinesiology felt right for an athlete. And for physics, well, I’m a setter, so I want to, um… I want to be able to calculate the velocity of the balls I send with more accuracy.”

It’s a ridiculous reason. Maybe even a stupid one. Definitely the stupidest reason Tsukishima’s ever heard for taking an incredibly intense and complex major like physics.

But you don’t laugh.

You just nod, smiling to yourself. “Thanks for letting me help you with your process, then.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Tsukishima bluntly remarks, “You’re weird.” 

It comes off slightly ruder than intended, and you pause, your pen coming to a halt on the paper. He adds, quieter than before, “I mean, you notice things like that?”

Your nose and forehead scrunch up in slight confusion, expression so befuddled as if he were simply asking you if the sky was blue. 

“Well, yeah.” You say this as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone is different, with different interests and learning styles, and things get easier to understand when you break things down on their terms as opposed to yours. So of course I’ll pick up on things like that. I try to be observant of all the people around me.”

When your eyes meet his, he instinctively is on edge. Your tone is still light, but there’s something pragmatic about your eyes that makes him feel apprehensive, like he’s standing at the edge of a 50-foot fall and you’re watching to see if he’ll take the jump. It’s like you’re taking all of him in, like you’re taking everyone in. Like you see things other people don’t. 

If Tsukishima is being honest with himself, this perceptiveness is something he lacks. He willingly disregards much of the people and the things around him; it's a defense mechanism he has perfected over the years. It’s easier to stay detached. It’s easier to keep to himself; it’s easier to be indifferent. 

To be blunt, your astuteness unnerves him, and it’s a sensation he’s not used to grappling with. There’s a raw honesty in your gaze that feels almost invasive, peeling back the layers of his carefully constructed facade. You two had just met, but for a brief moment, he wonders if you can somehow see through him because despite your cheerful and carefree attitude, you are looking to understand people in a way he never has.

He quickly looks away, breaking the intense eye contact. “I guess that’s one way to look at it,” he mutters.

You don’t reply because your attention has already shifted back to Kageyama, with you leaning over his notebook and exclaiming, “See, you got this!” 

Kageyama has solved the several problems you gave him, his work still amateur but complete. You scan his notebook, pointing out the few areas where he could simplify his work, but the overwhelming beam on your face is nothing short of proud, and it incites a completely new determination in Kageyama. Despite his usual stoicism, your encouragement has visibly boosted his confidence and Tsukishima watches as the boy smiles and nods along when you flip the textbook to a new chapter, declaring loudly, “Okay! Let’s move onto vectors!” 

As you continue to explain, Tsukishima watches the two of you with a slight mixture of exasperation and something else he can’t quite put a name to. You are honest and true and it’s wholly unfamiliar, tiring in a way where he is overwhelmed. He’s not quite sure how to describe how he feels right now, sitting here with you together: maybe it’s a touch of admiration for you, maybe it’s just relief that someone else is dealing with Kageyama’s math woes for a change, but either way, at the end of it all, he finds himself settling back into his chair, a small, almost imperceptible amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. 

Minutes turn into hours, and before you know it, the sun is dipping lower and lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the library floors. By the time the library's closing announcement echoes through the halls, you have made it through half the vector fields unit and Kageyama has filled several pages of his notebook with neatly written solutions. 

“Well, let’s finish up. I think we’ve made some good progress today,” you decide, stretching your arms above your head. You begin to gather your things—if you’re not all out soon, the librarians will come and yell at you for sure.

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” Kageyama says earnestly, closing his notebook. “I think I’m starting to get it.”

“You are. Just keep practicing those problems, okay? You’ll pass this week’s quiz for sure if you keep at it,” you say cheerily. “Just text if you ever need any help. I’m always around.”

Your enthusiasm seems genuine, like you really do want to help Kageyama succeed. Tsukishima’s not sure what to do with this information.

He should be suspicious. Should assume there’s something in it for you—some academic accolade, some resumé boost, some smug satisfaction in proving you’re better than everyone else. But you don’t gloat. You don’t even act like this is a favor Kageyama—or, by extension, the frat—owes you for the rest of time. 

You just offer your help like it’s nothing. Like it’s normal to give this much of your time, your energy, your effort.

It’s strange. It makes him uncomfortable.

“You’re always around?” he says, unable to stop himself. His voice comes out dry, skeptical. “Sounds like you have way too much time on your hands.”

You blink, then laugh, genuine and light.

“Not really,” you say, slipping your notes into your bag. “I’m just good at making time for things that matter.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his, and for some reason, that sentence sticks in his brain.

Good at making time for things that matter.

Before he can think too hard about what that implies, Kageyama—completely unaware of the odd shift in atmosphere—stands, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll text you,” he says. “Uh. If I get stuck.”

“Good,” you say, satisfied. “See you both next time.”

And with that, you’re gone, stepping out of the library doors, the evening sun catching in your hair before you disappear down the hall.

There’s a brief silence.

“…She’s nice,” Kageyama says, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets.

Tsukishima sighs, shaking his head. “Don’t be weird about it.”

“I’m not.”

“You sound weird about it.”

Kageyama scowls but says nothing, already distracted by whatever thought process is rattling around in his thick skull.

Tsukishima, however, lingers.

He doesn’t want to admit that today went better than expected. That you weren’t condescending, that you didn’t treat Kageyama like a lost cause, that you were actually kind of impressive to watch. That there’s something about the way you carry yourself—the way you see people, notice things, care about things—that makes his stomach twist in a way he doesn’t like.

He exhales sharply. Nope. Not going there.

Instead, he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and starts toward the exit, brushing off whatever this feeling is. After all, this is just the first session.

There’s still plenty of time for you to prove him right.

four.

After the fifth tutoring session, Tsukishima notices two things.

First: since you’ve started helping Kageyama, his calculus average has jumped dramatically from a 37 to a 60. Considering he has to catch up on the whole semester, this much progress in such a short amount of time is insane, and Tsukishima—who has spent years watching Kageyama be a stubborn idiot—is actually kinda baffled by it.

Second: it’s not that you look down on him, or Kageyama, specifically. You just look down on Greek life as a whole.

It takes him a while to realize it. At first, he assumes it’s personal—that you have some vendetta against Kappa Alpha Rho, some deep-seated superiority complex. But then, over the next few weeks, he starts paying closer attention.

You don’t sneer at Kageyama’s jersey. You don’t mock him for struggling, don’t look at him like he’s a dumb jock barely worth your time.

But when Tanaka and Noya come to pick Kageyama up after a session, still wearing their frat hoodies from some brotherhood event, Tsukishima catches the way your eyes flick to their letters. The way your lips press together, just slightly.

When Kageyama makes an offhanded comment about formal, you barely react—just a small exhale through your nose, something unimpressed.

And then there’s today.

You’re explaining another concept—Tsukishima isn’t really listening; Kageyama is nodding along, so he figures he doesn’t need to pay attention—when Hinata, of all people, shows up at the library. He bursts through the doors like a chaotic, overexcited golden retriever, completely disregarding the quiet study environment as he waves both arms above his head.

“Kageyama!”

Kageyama physically tenses. Tsukishima watches, vaguely amused, as he slowly turns to the orange-haired idiot now bounding toward them.

Hinata slaps a recruitment t-shirt onto the table. “You left it at the house, dumbass! Daichi said to bring it to you.”

Kageyama looks vaguely murderous. “Shut up.”

Tsukishima smirks. And then, he glances at you.

And there it is again: that brief flicker of something. That same exhale through your nose.

You don’t say anything, don’t react much at all—but Tsukishima sees it.

You hate frats.

And now, he wants to know why.

Luckily for him, it actually doesn’t take much to find out. 

It comes up casually, in the way most revealing things do—offhanded, unguarded, something you don’t realize you’re giving away. 

Kageyama is the one who brings it up. Not intentionally, obviously—he's never been intentionally insightful a day in his life—but between scribbling down an answer on his problem set, he suddenly asks, “Why’d you make that rule, anyway?”

You glance up, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“The GPA thing,” he clarifies. “You’re the VPAA, right? So it was your idea.”

Tsukishima watches as you blink, your grip tightening just slightly around your pen.

Then, after a moment, you exhale, setting it down. “It wasn’t just me,” you say. “It was a committee decision.”

“But you agree with it,” Tsukishima says, leveling you with a look.

Your lips press together. There it is again—that tiny flicker of something. Then, you sigh. 

“It’s just frustrating seeing people waste their potential,” you say finally, voice careful, deliberate. “I mean, don’t you want to succeed?”

Ah. So that’s what it is: you think that all fraternity boys are idiots who only care about partying and drinking games. You think they don’t care about their futures. That they’re lazy, entitled, wasting the opportunities they have.

Tsukishima exhales slowly through his nose, tipping his chair back just slightly. He should be annoyed. He should be pissed off.

But instead, he just smirks.

“You think we’re all just dumb party boys, don’t you?”

Your eyes flick to his. You don’t answer, which, really, is answer enough.

So obviously, he challenges you.

“Come to the house,” he says. “See for yourself.”

Your expression shifts into something guarded, something skeptical and unimpressed. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you clearly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Tsukishima says simply.

Kageyama, ever helpful, chimes in: “Hinata’s even worse at math than me.”

Tsukishima watches you pause, purse your lips, obviously considering. It’s a long pause, you staring down at the desk for a full minute, until finally, you sigh. “Fine.”

Oh, you’re in for a disaster.

five.

Walking into the Kappa Alpha Rho house for the first time, you’re not sure what you were expecting.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t… this.

The first thing you’re hit with when you enter the house is, simply put, noise. 

The music is loud—too loud for a weeknight, you think absently, because there’s no way none of these guys have morning classes tomorrow. Someone in the kitchen is yelling indistinctly over the sound of clinking glass, and from somewhere deeper inside the house, there’s a resounding crash, followed by an enthusiastic, “It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t worry about it!”

Tsukishima watches as you visibly tense, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. You’re standing near the entrance like you’re considering leaving, like maybe you’d rather walk straight back out the door than step even a foot further into this chaos. You wouldn’t be the first: he’s seen people walking into the house for the first time and immediately regretting every life choice that led them here. The frat is loud, messy, chaotic in a way that isn’t easy to handle if you’re not used to it. And you—pristine, calculated, Type-A to your very core—are definitely not used to it.

He watches you closely, waiting for you to scoff any second now, to turn around and walk out.

But then, you hear it. 

“Integrate or drink, loser!”

As an applied and theoretical math double major, the sentence instantly piques your curiosity, and you can’t, in your conscience, just walk out after hearing that. So you square your shoulders, and saunter in.

And when you see it, you stop in your tracks.

The scene before you is, frankly, absurd. Kageyama is standing at the end of a beer pong table, furrowing his brows like he’s solving a differential equation rather than playing a drinking game, and Hinata, vibrating with excitement, looks one misplaced shot away from combusting. Around them, the rest of the guys are watching with varying degrees of amusement: Tanaka and Nishinoya are grinning like they already know something Kageyama doesn’t, Yamaguchi is stifling laughter behind his hand, and Tsukishima—leaning against the wall, arms crossed—is watching you.

You glance at the table. The setup is questionable, at best. The cups are unevenly spaced, some tilted at an angle that defies both gravity and common sense. The whiteboard behind them has the remnants of what was probably meant to be a scoring system, though it's mostly illegible thanks to a combination of bad handwriting and smeared marker. And then, of course, there’s the absolute nonsense of what just came out of someone’s mouth.

You shift your gaze to the ping-pong ball in Hinata’s hand, then to Kageyama, who still looks personally insulted by whatever just happened. You blink once, then twice.

“What,” you say flatly, “am I looking at?”

“The future,” Nishinoya says dramatically, throwing an arm around Tanaka. “The greatest intellectual drinking game of our generation.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Sugawara mutters. You didn’t even notice him and the other two, presumably, seniors, sitting lazily on a couch against the wall and supposedly monitoring. 

“It’s simple,” Hinata says, barely containing his enthusiasm. “You make a shot, the other guy has to solve a math problem right, or they drink.”

Silence. You stare at him.

Kageyama’s expression darkens. “It’s stupid.”

“You’re just mad because I got the last one right,” Hinata shoots back.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did! The integral of sine is cosine, dumbass!”

“The answer was negative cosine—”

“Same thing!”

“It is literally not.”

“You know what,” you interrupt, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Forget I asked.”

At this, Tsukishima makes a quiet noise—something between a laugh and a scoff—but you don’t look at him. You’re too busy assessing the catastrophe in front of you.

Because, to be honest, this is ridiculous. A complete mess of a game, poorly thought out and even more poorly executed. But…

You bite the inside of your cheek.

The concept isn’t terrible.

It’s just wrong. And you, for better or worse, cannot let a flawed system stand.

Tsukishima watches as something in your expression shifts. You set your bag down with purpose, stepping closer to the table, eyes narrowing as you take in the setup. Then, voice completely serious, you say, “You’re playing it wrong.”

The entire room pauses.

Tanaka, who has a ping-pong ball balanced on the tip of his finger, squints. “Huh?”

“You’re playing it wrong,” you repeat, arms crossing as you survey the table like it’s a crime scene.

Hinata frowns. “No, we’re not.”

“Yes,” you say, “you are.”

Tsukishima raises a brow, intrigued. You’re not mad at them for playing. You’re not disgusted by their antics. You’re just… offended by the execution.

“The whole premise doesn’t work,” you continue, gesturing vaguely at the cups. “You can’t just shout out an integral and expect them to solve it in two seconds. You need rules. A system.”

Tanaka exchanges a glance with Nishinoya. “Bro,” he says, in awe. “We don’t have a system?”

“We do have a system,” Kageyama huffs.

You promptly ignore him, already reaching for a marker. “Okay. If we’re going to do this right, it should work like this.”

And just like that, you take over.

In what seems like an instant, the frat house—which is usually ruled by sheer chaos and barely functioning groupthink—is now operating under your direction. You’ve got the whiteboard in a chokehold, a marker uncapped and poised between your fingers as you outline a system so airtight, so horrifyingly efficient, that even Tsukishima has to admit it’s impressive.

Suddenly, the game makes sense. Instead of random, impossible integrals, each shot now corresponds to a category—concepts from the last five chapters, ranked by difficulty.

And as if just to add to the disbelief, everyone is listening.

Kageyama, glaring at the rules with an unreal intensity, is following along, his brows furrowed like he’s mentally poking holes in your system but failing to find any. Tanaka and Noya are nodding like you’ve just changed their lives. Ennoshita, who had previously been lurking near the drinks table, is watching you rewrite the game’s structure with increasing fascination.

Even Sugawara nods sagely. “She makes a good point,” he says solemnly. “The game did lack structure.”

“Thank you,” you reply, as if this is a serious academic debate and not an impromptu beer pong overhaul.

Tsukishima can’t even be mad about it. Not when you’ve very quickly become the most interesting thing in the house.

And especially not when he watches you, against all fucking odds, join in. As if you were some god tier frat boy in a past life, you sink a cup with infuriating ease on your very first throw, the ball arcing perfectly without any slightest bounce back. You don’t even blink. 

As if on cue, the whole house erupts.

Tanaka and Noya nearly combust on the spot, clutching each other in sheer exhilaration, while Kageyama’s jaw drops so fast you think it might actually unhinge. Even the seniors look mildly impressed. 

And Hinata… well, Hinata looks very afraid. 

“You—” he starts, pointing at you like he’s about to accuse you of something heinous.

But you don’t let him. You simply cross your arms, unimpressed, and say, voice smooth as ever, “Basic derivative. Give me an answer, or drink.”

There’s a split second of silence.

Then, absolute carnage.

Hinata scrambles for the marker like his life depends on it. “Uh—uh—five x to the—no, wait—”

You tilt your head. “Is that your final answer?”

“Shit, no—”

“You took too long,” you say, entirely unsympathetic. “Drink.”

Hinata lets out a strangled noise of distress as Tanaka and Noya dissolve into laughter. Even Daichi, who up until now has been observing like a wise elder, shakes his head in amusement as Hinata accepts his fate, downing his drink in defeat.

Tsukishima watches the entire thing unfold, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable.

Huh.

He’d expected you to bail before even stepping past the threshold. Expected you to scoff, maybe say something scathing about how frat boys had the collective IQ of a teaspoon, and leave without looking back.

And yet, here you are, rewriting the rules of a drinking game with the kind of ruthless efficiency that would put actual math professors to shame. Even worse: you’re winning.

By the time you sink your third consecutive shot, the rest of the guys have gone from mildly entertained to genuinely invested. Even Kageyama, who Tsukishima assumed would be sick of math by now, is begrudgingly playing along, answering derivatives and integrals like his pride is at stake.

Tanaka and Noya have fully accepted you as one of their own, chanting your name every time you land a shot. Hinata, despite his earlier humiliation, is practically buzzing, clearly determined to redeem himself. Even Yamaguchi, who usually prefers watching Tsukishima verbally eviscerate people from the sidelines, has been sucked into the chaos, trying (and failing) to solve an integral before Kageyama can.

It’s a disaster. A ridiculous, mathematically-inclined disaster.

And you—poised, serious, utterly deadpan as you call out equations like you’re running a boot camp—are the reason for it.

Tsukishima doesn’t even realize he’s staring until Yamaguchi elbows him.

“You’re enjoying this,” Yamaguchi says, low enough that only Tsukishima can hear.

Tsukishima scoffs. “Please.”

But Yamaguchi just gives him a knowing look, then pointedly nods toward you.

Toward the way you command attention without even trying. The way you challenge their game without hesitation. The way your focus sharpens when you're confronted with something that, even in the realm of absurdity, still needs to be corrected.

Tsukishima exhales slowly, shaking his head.

Of course you’d walk into a frat house for the first time and immediately take over. 

Of course you’d turn a drunken joke into an actual intellectual challenge. 

Of course you’d be—

“Tsukishima.”

He blinks.

You’re looking at him now, one brow arched, an extra ping-pong ball in your hand. The room quiets just a fraction, the weight of attention shifting ever so slightly. “You haven’t played yet,” you say simply. Your gaze is intense, and it makes his stomach twist, his chest strangely warm. 

Tsukishima stares at you for a long moment.

Then, very slowly, he pushes off the wall. Rolls up his sleeves.

“Alright, genius girl.” He steps up to the table, arms loose, completely at ease. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The room erupts once again.

And for the first time that night, you grin.

six.

After two months of knowing you, Tsukishima notices something else.

Your bag always contains not just the calculus textbook but several others as well. Every time he sees you on campus, you’re sprinting from place to place, dashing between study halls and libraries and the ASU building. Whenever Kageyama does need help, you’re true to your word and always there, but Tsukishima observes the way you rub at your temples when you think no one is looking, the way you blink a little too long, like you’re stealing micro-moments of rest in the middle of a conversation. The way your hands tremble slightly when you reach for your coffee, as if you’ve been running on caffeine and sheer willpower alone.

So one day, after Kageyama has already run off to his volleyball practice and it’s just the two of you in the frat house’s study room, Tsukishima finally asks the question he’s been wondering for weeks.

“Why do you do this?”

You still, your hands stopping midway as you pack up your belongings. You pause, looking up at him. “What do you mean? Tutoring?”

“Well yeah, tutoring, but also everything else—ASU, TA-ing… all of that. Why?”

You hum as you think over his question, a thoughtful look gracing your features. For a minute, it’s just silent in the room.

“I mean, do I need some grand reason to do it?” You decide after a moment of consideration, shrugging. “There’s a few reasons, I guess. But the biggest one is just that I genuinely like helping people. Like, being there for them and getting to see things click for them. That’s super rewarding in itself.”

“And the other reasons?” He watches you intently.

Clutching your laptop to your chest, you sigh, biting your bottom lip tentatively. It’s the first time he’s really seen you look vulnerable, now that he thinks about it. You’re always so calculated.

“Well– I guess it’s actually only one other reason. It’s also just… the only thing I’m really good for– sorry, at. But whatever, that’s kind of just–” you’re stumbling through your words before you cut yourself off mid-sentence, shaking your head. “At the end of the day, the only reason that matters is that I like seeing other people succeed.”

He nods slowly, sensing your discomfort and deciding not to push any further. “Yeah, okay.”

A small, wistful smile grows on your lips. “In the end, I’ll still be here. The time will pass anyway. I might as well spend it helping people find the happiness I find in math, you know?” 

“So you’re tutoring him again tomorrow?” 

You nod. “Mhm, from noon until two. I would go longer, but I think he has practice, so I’ll probably just do some work. I have a few policy briefs to go over.”

“Were you not busy enough today?” He drawls, gesturing to the sagging bag on your back. 

You laugh with pink cheeks, almost as if embarrassed at the question; you slightly scratch the back of your head. “Um, well, I don’t know. I had a really early class and then I had TA stuff, and then two tutoring sessions, and then a committee meeting and then this. So a pretty packed schedule, I guess,” you admit. Tsukishima gives you a look, and you quickly wave your hands. “I’m good though! I like all of it, so it’s not like it’s bad. It’s a lot, but not the worst, so it’s okay.”

Tsukishima watches you closely, taking in your words and the lilt in your voice. He can see the fatigue etched on your face, the prominent dark circles ringing under your eyes, but there's also a light in your eyes that speaks volumes about your genuine passion for what you do. It’s the same look that sparks up when you watch Kageyama succeed at a problem, the one that makes your eyes look like they’re dancing with fire and sets that weird fuzzy feeling in his stomach going again. It's both admirable and concerning, and he can't help but feel a strange mix of respect and worry.

“You really care about this, don’t you?” he says softly, almost more to himself than to you.

“Yeah, I do,” you reply. Your voice is purely sincere, completely direct. “Even if I’m super busy and stressed out and tired, it’s all worth it because I get to be a part of someone’s life becoming even just a little bit better.”

He’s quiet for a moment, processing everything you’ve said.

He used to hate you. He deemed you pretentious for the GPA rule, assuming you were just another overachiever with a superiority complex, or someone who enjoyed making things harder for people like him and Kageyama. Even beyond you personally, he’d always mocked people like you for flaunting their overtly virtuous and self-righteous personas, always seeming to crave attention and recognition for their altruism. 

But now, for the first time, their actions don’t seem self-serving: it’s a sacrifice, a genuine and earnest effort to make a difference that has nothing to do with personal gain. You don’t push people to do better because you think you’re above them. You do it because you believe they can be better. Because you care. Because, despite everything, you genuinely want to see people succeed. You dedicate all of yourself to others, to strangers unaware of your existence, simply because it’s the right thing to do. Simply because you can. 

You’re standing there, shoulders weighed down by the sheer number of responsibilities you carry, yet still speaking with unwavering certainty. You don’t expect anything back—in fact, you barely even take credit for the work that you do. You are just kind for the sake of being kind; even when you’re exhausted, even when you have nothing left to give, you keep going. You work yourself to the bone for the sake of everyone else, and no one seems to notice—not your professors, not the students you tutor, not the countless committees that rely on you.

Except now, Tsukishima does.

And because he doesn’t know what else to do with this realization, he sighs and just says, “You should eat before you go.”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“The house is making dinner.” He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’re here anyway. Might as well eat something before you collapse.”

You huff a quiet laugh, but there’s something warm in your expression, something soft. “I’m not going to collapse.”

Tsukishima raises a brow. “Yeah, well. You look like you might.”

You roll your eyes, but to his surprise, you actually consider it. Then, after a pause, you sigh. “Okay, fine.”

And when you follow him toward the kitchen, Tsukishima tells himself it’s nothing. That he doesn’t care. That he’s just making sure you don’t keel over in the middle of a lecture hall somewhere.

But later, when you’re laughing at something Yamaguchi says, plate balanced in your hands, that strange, unfamiliar warmth creeps up his spine again.

And he thinks, not for the first time, that he might be screwed.

seven.

Since the first day you had dinner with them a few weeks ago, you’ve come to spend more and more time at the KAR house. 

And well, you admittedly didn’t see it coming, but you like the Kappa Alpha Rho boys.

They’re loud. They’re class clowns. They spend many, many weeknights drinking and blasting 2000’s pop at maximum volume, so much so that you can hear the telltale tunes of old Miley Cyrus and Britney Spears from halfway down Frat Row. They are, in many ways, exactly what you expected.

They’re also… really sweet. 

They’re all extremely determined to help each other to succeed. They care about each other so deeply; they’ve opened their arms to you, too, without question or complaint. They’ve looked after you in a way that you’ve never been cared for before. They gifted you a frat hoodie—your initials stitched beside the KAR letters. You have a designated mug in their kitchen cabinet. They don’t even ask if you’re staying to slide a plate in front of you at dinner. Tsukishima watches you closely whenever you pick at your food, and you pretend not to notice when he scoops an extra helping onto your plate.

They’re driven too, in their own way: as if inspired by Kageyama’s improvement, they’ve all begun to care about school, even if their study methods always seem to include some variant of rage cage or beer pong. You’ve seen how passionate they’ve grown about it, celebrating each small academic win as if it were a final exam. The whole fraternity has been clawing their way out of academic ruin, grinding through assignments, struggling through tests, pulling their GPAs up one painstaking decimal point at a time, going from one of the organizations with the lowest GPAs to being so close to the C+ minimum.

They’re so close. So close.

But technically, the frat still falls under that 2.3 minimum.

You realise this, sitting at your desk in the ASU building, because the deadline for organizations on academic probation to get their GPA up is inching closer and closer. The deadline that you set. From the policy that you put into place.

You stare at your desktop screen, at the open PDF of the passed policy, unblinking. The text is sharp and unforgiving. Academic probation lasts one semester. Organizations must raise their cumulative GPA to at least 2.3 by the end of that period or risk losing university funding. No exceptions.

You remember writing that clause, steady in your resolve at the time. It was supposed to be fair. Cut-and-dry. The goal was to push organizations to take academics seriously—to ensure that no fraternity or club skated by on empty promises and minimal effort. But now, the words feel different. They feel wrong.

You click open the academic records, searching for Kageyama’s name. His grades appear on the screen in neat rows: a scatter of past failures, single digits that make your chest ache, then a stark and steady climb. He’s sitting at a B-average now, a remarkable turnaround considering where he started. 

But as you do the math quickly (a habit at this point), calculating projected GPAs based on their current grades and the remaining assignments for the semester, you realise the bitter, indisputable results: no matter how hard they push, it won’t be enough. KAR’s overall GPA still won’t meet the minimum.

The weight of that realization settles deep in your stomach.

Your policy is flawed. 

For the first time since writing it, you see its error clear as day: it measures results, but not effort. It punishes past failure while ignoring present growth. It demands perfection in a system that, by design, allows only for progress in small, slow steps.

Something about that feels deeply, fundamentally unfair.

You think about the very principles that allowed you to sit here in the student union building, to have earned the title of Vice President of Academic Affairs. Because you’re not a natural genius, either: you’ve put in countless hours of hard work and effort into your studies, pulled countless sleepless nights and worked through countless practice problems just to get things right. Your policy was meant to encourage others to do the same. 

To reward hard work, and drive. 

And you’ve witnessed it for yourself, out of a group of rowdy, rambunctious frat boys.

You inhale sharply and sit up, rolling your chair forward. The cursor blinks in the empty document in front of you, a quiet invitation.

Slowly, carefully, you begin to type.

eight.

The night before the deadline, the Kappa Alpha Rho house is unusually quiet.

It’s strange. Even with music thumping from the speakers, even with bodies packed into the living room and voices rising in conversation, the usual energy—the chaotic, unrelenting, borderline obnoxious joy—is gone.

The party isn’t really a party. It’s a wake.

They all know what’s coming. Without funding, they’ll barely be able to keep things running. They’ll have to gut their budget, cut out every major event, every tournament, every social they used to host. They’ll lose their momentum, their presence on campus. They aren’t naive; they know what happens to a fraternity that can’t sustain itself.

So they drink. They celebrate what they were while they still can.

Tsukishima stands near the kitchen, beer in hand, watching the scene with a quiet irritation that hasn’t left him in days. It’s not just the situation—it’s you.

Because you’re not here.

And you haven’t been, not for days. No texts, no calls, no sudden appearances at dinner. No slipping into the house with your laptop and a resigned sigh, no sarcastic quips over Tsukishima’s shoulder while he studies. He knew you’d take this hard—he’s watched the way you’ve thrown yourself into their academic comeback, has seen the way your eyes light up when someone passes a test or raises their grade.

But he never thought you’d disappear.

The realisation sits heavy in his chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome. It bothers him more than he wants to admit.

“Have you heard from her?” Yamaguchi asks, appearing at his side with a drink in hand.

Tsukishima exhales sharply through his nose. “No.”

Yamaguchi frowns, but doesn’t say anything else.

The thought festers in Tsukishima’s mind as the night stretches on. He should be angry at you. A part of him is angry at you. But mostly, it just doesn’t make sense: no possible explanation he comes up with does. You’re not someone who runs from responsibility; if anything, you take too much of it on yourself. But if you’re not here, if you can’t even look at them, then maybe you really do feel guilty. Maybe you really do think you failed them.

The idea makes something twist in his gut, makes the irritation curdle into something else.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with that feeling.

So he stands there, arms crossed, listening to the frat he’s come to love mourn itself in real time.

And then the front door opens.

The music isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound—the soft creak, the shuffle of movement as someone steps inside. Tsukishima looks up, and the irritation he’s been holding onto vanishes in an instant.

Because it’s you.

You look exhausted. Shadows hang under your eyes, and your hair is slightly disheveled, like you’ve spent too many hours hunched over a desk. But still, you’re here.

And in your hand is a folder.

You walk straight toward him, weaving through the crowd, your expression unreadable. His breath catches in his throat before he realizes he’s holding it.

You stop in front of him, holding out the folder.

“Here,” you say simply.

Tsukishima doesn’t move. He just stares at you, at the folder stamped with the massive, obnoxious university logo, at the way your hand doesn’t waver. Hesitantly, he reaches out and takes it, fingers brushing against yours as he pulls it open.

His eyes scan the page.

ADDENDUM TO THE ACADEMIC PROBATION POLICY

His heart stutters.

It takes a moment for the words to register. The fraternity’s cumulative GPA is still below the requirement. But this—this thing you’ve spent the last few days working on, the thing you’ve evidently been breaking yourself over—it changes everything.

Organizations that show substantial improvement will still qualify for funding. As long as they continue to raise their GPA, they won’t be penalized.

He blinks. Once. Twice. The words blur slightly as he rereads them, brain struggling to keep up.

And then he looks up at you.

“You did this,” he says, voice lower than he intended.

You smile, small and tired but real. “You deserve it.”

Tsukishima feels like the air has been knocked from his lungs. 

For a moment, he can’t speak. He can’t move. He just stares at you, at the quiet certainty in your expression, at the exhaustion lining your face, at the way you’re standing here, in his house, telling him that they deserve this. He’s digesting the fact that you cared enough about them, that you respected their effort so much that you admitted your system’s faults to the entire university, published and notarized with physical proof.

Then, without thinking, without planning, without hesitation—he grabs your wrist.

The folder nearly slips from his grasp as he pulls you toward the center of the room, toward the rest of the fraternity. Someone notices first—Hinata, probably, judging by the sudden yell of surprise. Heads turn. Conversations still.

“What’s going on?” Kageyama asks, brow furrowed.

Tsukishima doesn’t answer. He just holds up the folder.

And then he watches it happen. The shift. The confusion, the realization, the moment the words sink in.

Kageyama’s eyes go wide. Yamaguchi’s jaw drops. Someone swears. Someone else shouts. And then, chaos simply erupts.

Because the next thing Tsukishima knows, they’re celebrating.

It’s different from before. This isn’t a goodbye party anymore. It’s loud, and wild, and joyful. There’s yelling and laughter and Hinata practically tackles you in excitement before you’re pulled into a flurry of hugs and cheers. Someone turns the music up. Someone else pops open a bottle of champagne that they were definitely not supposed to be saving for this occasion.

Tsukishima doesn’t join in.

Instead, he watches you.

Watches the way you’re laughing, exhausted but triumphant, surrounded by the people who care about you more than you realize. Watches the way they pull you into the celebration like you’ve always been one of them.

Watches the way you belong.

And for once, he doesn’t fight the way his chest tightens at the sight.

nine.

The party winds down eventually—not the joy, just the noise.

Most of the fraternity has either passed out in their rooms or sprawled out in various corners of the house, too tired (or too drunk) to make it any further. The music is still playing, but softer now, reduced to a faint hum that drifts through the open windows. Even the air feels different—lighter, easier, like the very house itself is breathing again.

Tsukishima finds you on the back porch, sitting on the steps, nursing a half-finished White Claw. He hesitates for only a second before stepping outside, letting the screen door creak shut behind him.

You glance up at him but don’t say anything as he sits down beside you. There’s no need to. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. It lingers, settled, like something well-worn and familiar, like you’ve known him forever.

It’s Tsukishima who breaks it first.

“Why?”

You tilt your head. “Why what?”

He huffs, staring down at his beer. “Why’d you do it?”

You blink at him, then let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Because I was wrong.”

Tsukishima looks at you then, sharp eyes flickering with something unreadable. You don’t waver under the weight of it, and he remembers the way you look when you simply know something, that quiet certainty, that unshakable conviction. It sends a warmth through his chest, the same warmth he’s been trying to ignore for weeks now, the same warmth he always seems to feel when he’s with you.

“They deserved to have their efforts rewarded,” you continue, voice steady. “I wrote that policy thinking I was setting a fair standard, but all it did was punish people for starting at a disadvantage. They—” you gesture vaguely toward the house, where distant laughter still filters through the walls—“worked their asses off. I watched them do it. I wasn’t about to let that mean nothing.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond right away, but he doesn’t need to. The way his jaw tightens, the way his fingers drum once against the step before curling into his palm—he gets it. He knew before you even said it.

“You didn’t have to kill yourself over it, though.”

You roll your eyes. “I didn’t.”

He levels you with a look.

You sigh, glancing away. “Okay. Maybe it wasn’t easy.”

That’s an understatement, and you both know it. You don’t admit just how much effort it took, how much red tape you had to cut through, how many meetings you had to schedule, reschedule, and push through just to get the addendum approved in time. You don’t tell him about the sleepless nights, about the pages of drafted revisions, about the quiet, gnawing fear that it wouldn’t be enough. You don’t tell him how you single handedly powered through academic records for every single organisation on campus, just to make sure this change gets written into law. 

You don’t have to.

Tsukishima already knows.

He clicks his tongue but doesn’t push the subject further. Instead, he shifts, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands. “Tanaka and Noya are already losing their minds over events now that the funding’s secure.”

You snort. “I can only imagine.”

“They’re talking about a full house party lineup, a tournament series, and some kind of insane spring break trip.” He exhales sharply, something that vaguely sounds like a laugh. “It’s exhausting just listening to them.”

You smile softly. “Sounds about right.”

He hums in agreement. Then, almost offhandedly, he adds, “They mentioned formal, too.”

You nod, swirling your drink absentmindedly. “Makes sense.”

A beat of silence.

Then.

“…Can I take you to formal?”

You freeze.

It’s not like you haven’t been asked out before, but it’s different coming from Tsukishima. Maybe it’s the way he says it—not cocky, not casual, not even teasing. Just direct. A little uncertain. A little careful.

You don’t mean to hesitate, but you do. Just for a moment.

It’s a moment too long.

Tsukishima sighs, looking away. “Forget it.”

And that’s when you see it—so brief, so subtle, but there. The way his shoulders tense, the way his lips press into a thin line, the way his fingers twitch like he’s bracing for something. Like he expected you to say no. Like he’s already trying to convince himself that he doesn’t care.

Before you even think about it, you reach for his hand. Your fingers lace through his, warm and solid, and you squeeze lightly, grounding him.

“Yes,” you say. “I want you to take me.”

Tsukishima goes still. He stares first at your joined hands, like he can’t quite process the fact that you’re holding his. Then, slowly, his gaze flickers back up to yours.

His voice is quieter when he asks, “…Not out of pity?”

“Have I ever done anything out of pity?”

He considers that for half a second before huffing out something that’s almost a laugh. “…No.”

“Exactly.”

You don’t let go of his hand, and he doesn’t pull away. Instead, you shift slightly, moving just a little closer, lifting your interlocked fingers as you lean into his side. It’s easy, natural, like something inevitable.

For a moment, Tsukishima doesn’t react.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, he squeezes your hand back.

The porch is quiet, the sounds of the house fading into the background. Somewhere inside, Tanaka and Noya are still arguing about something, Kageyama is grumbling, someone bursts into laughter—but out here, it’s just you and Tsukishima, sitting in the soft glow of the porch light, hands entwined.

Neither of you says anything else. You don’t need to.

And in that moment, Tsukishima is certain that he’s screwed. But right now, with you curled up next to him, knowing you deeply the way you seemed to know him the first time you met him, remembering everything that has brought you two here, to this moment, he is equally certain about this: he will be there. He’ll keep noticing things about you that you think no one bothers to see, and he’ll be the support that you always offer to others but never ask for. He’ll let you—make you, if he has to—rest; he’ll take care of you the way you do for everyone else. 

And above all, he’ll be the person to prove to you that you are incredible. Not just for being good at tutoring, not just for being good at math, not just for being good at school, but that he’s in awe of you and who you are. 

He’ll love you how you should be loved. 

He swears it.

⨭ closing notes; very very attached to this one bc i started it in 2019. yes, 2019. she's gone through an insane amt of rewriting and cuts, but i am super proud of this final draft and i rly rly love it. this is also 1/3 of my asu trilogy so look out for that!!! as always #comment #like #reblog i literally see them all and it keeps me going :') thank u all sm if u made it to the end!

[muqingslover]

Hii!! Love your writing!!

I wanted to ask if you have any hc about the lads men as fathers? For example, my hc was that Xavier is a boy dad that makes sure his kid will not end up listening to those "alpha podcasts" because he sets the example of a gentle yet "i slayed over 70,000 wanderers", kind yet assertive man. HOWEVER, since the level 175 affinity interaction came out, I'm 100% hes a girl dad raising his daughter to be a strong and independent woman (like the MC he loves dearly). What do you think?

[ my first ask! yahooo! thank you, pookie! I'll give you my thoughts in general (a big mix of everything) but if anyone wants one of the boys in more detail then feel free to ask because I have more to share! ]

Alright maybe this is a hot take but I don't think he wants children, like at all.

Xavier does NOT like sharing. He's literally jealous of himself for goodness sake and he really, reaaaally, does not want to share you, especially not with clingy children that would take almost if not all of your attention and also his sleep.

In-game he's also shown to not be super fond of children in general which I find hilarious.

He's lived a long life, sacrificed everything and everyone for you, and spent the rest of his years searching for you. He believes he has the right to be a bit selfish and keep you to himself. Let's be honest, he's earned it.

He does want children, but he is the type to plan for it. And I mean *plan*.

Out of everyone, he understands the best what it means for both your body and mental health the changes pregnancy would bring (including the chance of postpartum depression and other complications) so there would be a looooong discussion before anything happened.

When putting together the nursery it's like he's preparing for the apocalypse and not a baby "We might need this" (you won't be needing it), "This was made with [chemical], it could be toxic for you or the baby." "Zayne, it's just a plastic spoon."

Absolutely not as cool as he leads you to believe. You have this man stressed™ but he is so, soooo patient.

He'd be very serious about follow-up appointments and he'll make time for the both of you no matter what.

GIRL DAD ! GIRL DAD ! GIRL DAD !

100% victim of waking up covered in silly drawings and bows in his hair but he says before him than his poor white walls.

You have your hands full monitoring these two that love to sneak around and stuff their cheeks full like hamsters with sweets.

Now this man wants a whole LITTER if you'll let him.

Hear me out: TRIPLETS. Oooor, twins with a younger sibling right after. Maybe one more if you are really brave.

This was not planned at all, but when you tell him he's so happy he'd be in actual tears while hugging you.

Luke and Kieran are over the moon about it too. They'd be so cute with the children because they get to be big bros now and they take their role very seriously.

Sylus would pull out his phone or coat and it would be covered in cute stickers. He takes no action in getting rid of it though because he loves it.

Those children are S P O I L E D. You have to take the role of saying no otherwise he'd take over the world just because his baby asked to be queen of the world on a random Thursday.

I think he's on the same boat as Xavier but for different reasons.

I have some...perhaps...controversial takes on this little guy in general so I'll leave it open for your interpretation hehe

love him though<3

I know I know everyone says he'd be the best girl dad but PLEASE pleaaaase give this man a little boy.

If you think women's baby fever are bad just wait until you see Caleb's

He would draw on your belly bump where he thinks the baby is and talk to him even while you're asleep

This guy is taking lessons about pregnancy, how to support you during birth and he is 100% in one of those moms group chat.

"Caleb we do not need another onesie—" "But look! Look how cute it is! Oh, and the little hat? C'mon angel, please?" (Ban him from shopping by himself because he comes back with WAY too many things you do not need)

He loves and I mean LOVES matching clothes. From silly costumes, to pajamas and outside outfits.

So. Many. Pictures. He takes pictures all the time to keep them as memories because if something were to happen where you or he lost their memories again then they'd forever be preserved :(

[ I have so much more to say about this but maybe I'll just make a separate post for each of them ]

[pucksandpower]

Worlds Apart

Max Verstappen x Sargeant!Reader

Summary: everyone seems to have something to say about your relationship with Max, but at the end of the day all that matters is the two of you

Warnings: Jos Verstappen

Based on a request by @butterflyexe

The sorority house is pulsing with noise — music, laughter, the clink of plastic cups. You weave through the crowd, feeling very much out of place amongst the scantily clad co-eds. Your sundress and sandals seem prudish in comparison.

“Y/N! There you are!” Chelsea, your big sister in Kappa Alpha Theta, comes barreling over with a few of her friends in tow. “We were just talking about you.”

You eye them warily. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, like how you’re totally wasting your college experience pining over some old race car driver instead of playing the field.” Chelsea’s friend, Brittany, smirks as she takes a sip of her drink.

You bristle at that. “Max is not old! He’s only 26.”

“Exactly,” Chelsea says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a sophomore dating a whole ass man who’s nearly 30. It’s weird.”

“No it’s not!” You protest, shrugging off her arm. “We’ve been together over a year. I really like him.”

“Like him?” Brittany scoffs. “Wake up, Y/N. He’s an international celebrity dating a little college student. You’re just his side piece.”

The words hit like a slap to the face. “That’s not true!”

“Then why does he never post about you on social media?” Chelsea counters. “I follow him and you’re never on his accounts.”

“We just value our privacy,” you mumble, but her words have sown seeds of doubt.

Chelsea gives you a pitying look. “Honey, I’m just trying to watch out for you. There are so many great guys here on campus that would treat you right.”

Your eyes narrow at the dig. “You mean like those meathead frat bros that never shut up about their high school glory days? No thanks.”

The girls all gasp in mock offense. Brittany steps closer, using her height advantage to loom over you. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, talking about our men like that.”

“Yeah?” You stand your ground, hands on your hips. “Well maybe if they acted like men instead of immature little boys, I wouldn’t have to.”

A hush falls over the nearby crowd, all eyes on your confrontation. Brittany looks murderous until one of her sidekicks tugs her sleeve, murmuring “Let’s go, it’s not worth it.” She sneers at you one last time before stalking off, leaving you and Chelsea alone.

Your big sister sighs, rubbing her temples. “Why are you so hell-bent on making this hard on yourself, Y/N? Max is a world away, both physically and in terms of life experience. You could have any guy at this school eating out of the palm of your hand. Why not take advantage of that?”

Her words are salt in the wound. You blink back tears, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Because I love Max. He makes me incredibly happy. And yeah, the distance is hard and he’s older and more established in his career. But he’s kind and smart and we just … connect, you know? I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

Chelsea shakes her head pityingly. “I’m just trying to watch out for you. I’d hate to see you get your heart broken over some long-distance fling.”

“It’s not a fling!” You’re sick of trying to convince everyone. Pushing past her, you storm out of the suffocating house and into the cool night air. Gulping it down, you sink down onto the steps, chest heaving with anger and hurt and frustration.

Alone at last, you let the tears come. You know the doubts eating at you are unfair — Max has been nothing but devoted and caring throughout your relationship, even with his insanely busy schedule. But the fears voiced by Chelsea and her crew have burrowed under your skin. Maybe you are just a naive little plaything for him. Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and move on to someone more sophisticated and on his level.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket — a FaceTime call from the man in question himself. You fumble to answer it, swiping hastily at your damp cheeks. “H-Hey you.”

“There’s my gorgeous girl!” His bright smile fills the screen, momentarily banishing your worries. “I only have a few minutes before FP1, but I couldn’t wait to see that pretty face.”

You can’t help but return his warm grin, though it doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “I miss you so much, Max.”

His brow furrows at your tone. “What’s wrong, liefje? You sound upset.”

You want to brush it off, but maybe this is your chance to finally get those nagging fears off your chest. “It’s just … things have been rough lately with the girls. They keep saying I’m wasting my time with you, that you’re going to leave me for someone else, that I’m just a naive little girl you’re using for fun.”

He’s silent for a long moment, then curses under his breath. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. That must be really hard to deal with, on top of the distance.”

“It is,” you admit, blinking back fresh tears. “And as much as I try to ignore them and have faith in us, their words have started to get to me. I mean … why don’t you ever post about me on social media? Do you not want the world to know about me?”

A shadow crosses his features. Clearly he’s heard this criticism before. “My reasons for keeping my relationships private have nothing to do with you, okay? I keep that part of my life off social media to avoid a media frenzy and protect the people I care about.” His expression softens. “But you better believe everyone important in my life knows about you — my family, my closest mates. Hell, the whole Red Bull garage is sick of hearing me go on and on about how amazing my girl is.”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears, some of the weight lifting off your chest. “Really?”

“Of course!” He chuckles. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. No matter how far apart we are or what anyone else says, you’re the only one I want.”

Your cheeks flush at his heart-melting words. In that moment, you don’t care about your snotty sorority sisters or the distance or anything else — just being completely in love with this amazing man. “I wish you were here,” you murmur, drinking in every detail of his face. “I miss holding you so damn much.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “Maybe you can show me how much later tonight, when we’re all alone to video call properly?”

You giggle and smack your hand over the camera, feeling suddenly shy. “Max Verstappen, you incorrigible flirt!”

“You love it.” His voice takes on a deeper, huskier tone that sends tingles down your spine. “And you’re going to love what I have planned for your next visit even more ...”

You spend the next few giddy minutes shamelessly flirting back and forth, soaking up precious moments of intimacy through the phone line to sustain you until you can be together again. When his race engineer appears in the background, beckoning him to the track, you’re both full of regretful sighs.

“Duty calls,” Max says wistfully. “But I’ll call you later, okay? We can pick up where we left off ...” He waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

You can’t stop your face-splitting grin. “I’ll be counting the minutes.”

“Bye schatje. Love you to the moon and back.”

“Love you too!” You clutch the phone to your chest after he disconnects, completely lovestruck. All your insecurities have melted away under the heat of Max’s devoted words and that heart-stopping smile.

It’s going to be okay.

He chose you — Y/N Sargeant, sophomore student, for all your flaws and relative immaturity. And you’ve never felt luckier.

Spirits lifted, you bound back into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. You’ll ignore Chelsea and her nasty friends for the rest of the night, instead losing yourself in daydreams of the next time you’ll be wrapped in Max’s strong arms.

Your relationship may be a long-distance whirlwind, but you’re all in and you’ve never been happier. Let the other sorority girls whisper — you’ve snagged yourself a keeper.

***

Max drains the last of his water bottle as he exits the Red Bull garage, sweat still beading on his brow from the qualifying session. He stretches his arms over his head with a satisfied groan — even after all these years in Formula 1, there’s no better feeling than pushing a car to its limits on the track.

“Max! A word, if you please.”

He cringes at the familiar bark, turning to find his father bearing down on him like a storm cloud. So much for basking in the post-qualifying glow. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Jos’ mouth presses into a grim line, eyes smoldering behind the lenses of his sunglasses. “Well, for one, I saw that interview of yours from yesterday making the rounds online.”

Max fights the urge to roll his eyes. Of course his old man would find something to criticize. “And? I thought it was pretty standard, nothing controversial.”

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t mean it to be controversial.” Jos sneers the word like a curse. “But dodging questions about your girlfriend and claiming you prefer to keep your private life private? It’s only going to stoke more media speculation and rumors.”

“Is that so bad?” Max counters. “I like to keep things out of the spotlight as much as I can. You know how ravenous the press is.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, son.” Jos steps closer, his voice lowering to a dangerous hiss. “I know exactly who this girl of yours is.”

Max feels his hackles rising at his dad’s dismissive tone when speaking about you. He opens his mouth to retort, but Jos barrels on.

“First it was that damn Kelly Piquet and her baggage, and now you’ve upgraded to jailbait? What is it with you and dating either old hags or naive teenagers, Max?”

“That’s enough!” Max snarls, feeling his face flush with anger. “How dare you talk about them like that, especially Y/N. She’s an incredible woman, and our age gap means nothing.”

Jos scoffs loudly. “Come off it, boy! She’s just a child, a nobody playing at being a WAG. You were born for greatness, bred to be a champion. Why on earth would you hitch your wagon to some college bimbo barely out of nappies?”

It’s like a red mist descends over Max’s vision at his father’s vile words about you. Before he can stop himself, his fist lashes out and connects squarely with Jos’ jawbone, sending the older man stumbling back.

“Don’t you ever speak about her that way again,” Max seethes, cradling his throbbing hand. “Y/N is ten times the person you’ll ever be. Smart, mature, driven as hell —she’s going to accomplish incredible things someday, whether you respect her or not.”

Jos regains his footing, clutching the blooming bruise on his cheek and glaring daggers at his son. “How dare you strike me, you ungrateful little shit! I gave you everything — the training, the opportunities, the sacrifices to get you to this level. And this is how you repay me?”

Max refuses to be baited, meeting his father’s glare with stony resolution. “Maybe if you didn’t insist on being such a hateful, miserable bastard all the time, I wouldn’t have to. All I want is for you to be civil and show some respect. Is that too much to ask?”

He huffs out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “But that’s not your way, is it? You’d rather condemn me for daring to find happiness with someone, just because she’s younger or doesn’t fit into your narrow ideas of what my life should look like. Well, I’ve got a newsflash for you. It’s my fucking life and I’ll live it however I damn well please.”

Jos opens his mouth, undoubtedly to fire off more vitriol, but Max cuts him off with a raised hand. He’s said his piece, expending the last of his energy and patience dealing with his father’s bullheadedness — at least for today. Right now, all he wants is to retreat somewhere quiet and let his thoughts drift across the ocean to you.

“Save it. I’m done arguing.” He turns on his heel and stalks away, Jos shouting insults at his retreating back.

Don’t react, don’t react. His jaw clenches almost painfully as he navigates the familiar path back to his driver’s room, typing out a quick message.

You free to chat soon, gorgeous? Need to hear your voice.

The reply comes almost instantly. For you, always. Give me 20 mins? ❤️

He can’t stop the surge of warmth at your words, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. That’s his girl — always knowing exactly what he needs, even from thousands of miles away. And isn’t that what matters most of all?

After showering and changing into casual sweats and a t-shirt, Max sinks onto the small couch placed against the wall, pillows arranged just so to prop up his aching back and shoulders. He picks up his phone and dials your number, heart rate kicking up a notch in eager anticipation.

After what feels like an eternity but is surely only a few rings, your face fills the screen. You must have just gotten back from class — your hair is tousled and loose, your makeup-free skin flushed and glowing in the South Florida sun.

“Well hey there, handsome.” Your teasing smirk dissipates as you get a better look at him. “Max? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“I am now,” he manages, relief already washing over him at the simple sight of you. He drinks in every last detail like a man parched. “Just had a bit of a run-in with my dad and needed an escape.”

Concern flashes in your warm eyes. “Oh no, what happened?”

So he tells you — the interview rumors, his dad ambushing him and lobbing insults, the explosive fight that caused him to lose his cool and strike the first blow. You listen with sympathy, every encouraging nod and murmured reassurance calming his frazzled nerves until the story is spent, leaving him strangely at peace.

“Thank you for sharing all that with me, babe,” you say once he’s finished. Your voice is gentle but firm. “I’m sorry Jos was so out of line, but you were totally right to stand up to him. Nobody gets to dismiss our relationship or talk about you like that.”

Max blows out a long breath, raking a hand through his shower-damp hair. “I know, I just … I hate letting him get under my skin like that, you know? No matter how much I try to rise above it, he always finds a way to trigger something deep down. It’s exhausting constantly needing to defend myself and the people I care about.”

“But that’s not your burden to bear alone, Max.” You shake your head adamantly, jaw set in that stubborn way he loves. “Let me help shoulder that weight, even if I can’t actually be there physically yet. I’m on your team, remember? We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”

Your words loosen a knot of tension he didn’t realize he was carrying. Of course you get it, you always do. He knows in that moment how lucky he is to have found his teammate, his shelter in the storm that rages on no matter how successful he becomes.

“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” His voice comes out low, thick with emotion. “How did I ever get so lucky?”

Your radiant smile could power entire cities. “By being you, silly. And for the record, your dad is way off base. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting a mature, driven, accomplished partner — even if she happens to be younger.”

“Age shaming goes both ways, apparently.”

“Apparently,” you agree wryly. “I had my own fun today ...”

As you launch into explaining the shenanigans that occurred during your morning lecture, Max feels himself relaxing further and further into the couch, a dopey grin spreading across his face. On and on the two of you go, playfully trading stories until his father and the endless pressures of his career have fully melted away, replaced by this perfect bubble the two of you inhabit.

When you hit a lull, stifling a yawn behind your hand, Max reluctantly decides to let you go for the night. “Do you have some time before your next class? You should get some rest.”

“Aw, I’m fine!” You protest through another jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m not done talking to my favorite driver yet.”

Max chuckles fondly. This stubborn streak of yours will be the death of him someday. “We both know that’s a lie. I can practically hear your bed calling your name for a nap from here.”

“Hmph, fine.” You stick out your full bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that makes his heart skip. “I guess if you insist on being all reasonable and stuff.”

“That’s me, a real fun-sucker.” He matches your playful tone, though his eyes are serious. “But before you go … can you just say it? For me?”

You immediately soften, gazing at him through the camera with so much tenderness, it almost winds him. “I love you, Max. More than anything.”

He exhales heavily, as if your words have physically lifted a weight from his shoulders. “I love you too, Y/N. And your love, your belief in me … it’s everything. Never doubt that, okay?”

“I won’t if you don’t,” you promise with a wink. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be dreaming of you.”

“Sweet dreams, liefje.”

Even after disconnecting the call, Max sits there for several long moments, staring at the now-dark screen with a besotted grin. His chest is pleasantly warm, full to bursting with the soul-deep reassurance that only you can provide.

Screw whatever toxic nonsense his dad tries to peddle about your age gap or his career. You’re the beating heart that sustains him, the sun around which his entire universe orbits. No disapproving authority figure or rumor mill gossip could ever change that fundamental truth.

So let his father rage and splutter all he wants about how “inappropriate” your relationship is. Max has tasted the extraordinary, found his home and partner in the most vibrant woman he’s ever met. All those lonely, empty years without that missing piece suddenly feel like a hazy, long-forgotten dream.

As Max sips his energy drink and prepares for another demanding few hours at the track, he can’t keep the dopey smile off his face. You’re worth enduring a thousand more shouting matches with his dad, worth traversing any distance just to hear your laugh again.

Max is the luckiest bastard alive to have earned your heart, and he’ll never take that gift for granted.

***

You shoulder your backpack and push through the double doors of the lecture hall, finally free from classes for the summer. The late afternoon sun bakes the quad in a warm glow as you pause for a moment, breathing in the sweet semi-tropical air.

For two years, this campus has been your entire world. Endless cycles of classes, parties, study sessions, and chaos with your sisters from Kappa Alpha Theta. But now, as you glance around at the laughing students basking in the first days of freedom, you feel a strange sense of restlessness settle over you.

Like there’s some place — somewhere — else you’re meant to be.

Shaking it off, you start heading for the student parking lot to meet up with Chelsea. You only make it a few steps before unusually loud cheers and shouts draw your attention to a small crowd forming near the front entrance.

Rows of parked cars block your view, but the distinctive growl of a high-performance engine cuts through the commotion. Your pulse instantly kicks up a notch as your mind puts it together.

That’s no ordinary car.

That’s a multimillion dollar, 800 horsepower British rocket. Sleek, powerful, luxuriously elegant.

Just like-

“No way ...” you breathe out, books slipping from your slackened grip as the glossy green bodywork of an Aston Martin DBS Superleggera slides into view. Because draped over the driver’s side door in that achingly familiar display of casual arrogance ...

“Max!” You shout his name in disbelieving joy even as your feet are carrying you toward him at a full sprint.

His head snaps up at the sound and your heart nearly stops at the way his whole face ignites with radiant delight. That brilliant smile you’ve ached to see in person for so long now stretching those full lips in the most heart-stoppingly beautiful way.

He pushes off from the car, hands outstretched, and in the space of a single frantic heartbeat you’ve flung yourself into his arms with a breathless laugh.

“What are you doing here?” You demand giddily as Max’s strong arms engulf you, swinging your frame around in a tight circle. You’re vaguely aware of the other students going nuts, people shouting and whistles piercing the air, but you only have eyes and ears for this incredible man holding you tightly.

Max just chuckles warmly, murmuring your name with raw affection before crashing his lips to yours in a scorching kiss that leaves you dizzy. You melt into the fierce embrace, parting your lips eagerly to taste the slight sweetness of Red Bull and dark chocolate that is so distinctly Max.

“Surprise, schatje,” he rumbles against your smiling mouth between heated, openmouthed kisses. “Thought I would swing by and pick up my favorite student myself.”

“Oh my god!” You laugh delightedly, cupping his chiseled jaw to drink in every perfectly imperfect inch of his beloved face. The strong jawline, the dimpled chin, those piercing blue eyes crinkling at the corners as he beams at you.

“When did you … how did you …” You’re at a loss for words, overcome with giddy euphoria at having Max here, warm and solid and real in your arms again after so many endless months.

A fresh wave of cheers and hollers suddenly cuts through your joyful bubble as half the crowd seems to recognize the celebrity in their midst. Dozens of camera phones whip out to capture the unexpectedly intimate reunion between you and Max.

“Who is that guy?”

“No way, that’s Max freaking Verstappen!”

“Y/N, how do you know Max Verstappen?”

The shouts and questions reach a fever pitch, finally breaking through your amorous fugue. Blushing furiously, you pull back just enough to murmur against Max’s chest.

“Well, much as I’d love to keep making out with my insanely hot boyfriend in the middle of campus, maybe we should take this somewhere a bit more private?”

Max gives a deep, rich laugh at that, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you.

“You are a wise woman, liefje,” he praises in that deliciously accented baritone. He presses one last, searing kiss to your smiling lips before reluctantly disentangling himself. “Though I would have thought you might like to give all your classmates one more delightful bit of inspiration to remember you by before you depart for the summer?”

He leers at you playfully as a chorus of whoops and whistles greets his flirtatious suggestion. You can’t help but bark out a laugh, shoving his chest lightly in mock admonishment even as heat rushes to your cheeks.

“You’re impossible!”

“No, just hopelessly in love with you,” he counters easily, reaching out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness in his voice and touch instantly gentles your teasing mood into something infinitely fonder.

This remarkable man, so genuine and caring beneath the roguish exterior cultivated for the cameras. You’re struck by a sudden lance of melancholy at the thought of how little the world really knows of the real Max Verstappen.

But then his eyes crinkle in that way that speaks of unabashed adoration just for you and the feeling passes. Because you know him better than anyone. And he sees you just the same. Two souls intertwined by a rare, precious understanding.

Max’s hand slides around to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly over your thundering pulse point. The tender motion instantly sets your nerves alight with renewed longing.

“So,” his voice drops to an impossibly deep bedroom octave meant only for your ears. “Shall we give the good people at the University of Miami one last show before I whisk you away for a few months of long overdue privacy?”

There’s the barest hint of a filthy promise underlying the words. You swallow thickly, unconsciously pressing closer as Max’s velvet tones wash over you like a physical caress.

“And just where will you be taking me?” You manage to tease back, forcing a bravado your hammering heart doesn’t feel.

“Well ...” He leans in until his lips brush the delicate shell of your ear. You shiver helplessly at the heated puff of air ghosting your sensitive skin.

“First,” he begins in a heated murmur, “we’re going to swing by your sorority house to gather your belongings.”

“Okay ...” You nod faintly, hyper-aware of Max’s intoxicating proximity.

“Then I’ll be driving us straight to your parents’ place in Fort Lauderdale,” he continues lowly. “Per the strict instructions of one Logan Sargeant, of course.”

You can’t help the surprised laugh that bursts forth. Trust your brother to strong-arm his way into Max’s surprise plans.

“He didn’t give you too hard a time, did he?” You ask through your giggles. “I can only imagine the threats he must have ...”

You trail off at the feeling of Max’s talented mouth blazing a trail of kisses along the slender column of your throat. Every exploratory brush of his lips and insistent swipe of tongue steals the breath from your lungs.

“Max ...” You whine out his name without conscious thought, going pliant against the solid wall of his body.

“Shhh,” he rumbles against your overwrought senses. “Let me finish first.”

There’s a maddening pause where the only sounds are the rushing waves of cheers and chaos from the delighted crowd watching your every move, hungered gazes drinking in every scorching caress Max bestows upon you. Under any other circumstances, the thought of being so shamelessly devoured by hundreds of strangers’ eyes would have you recoiling in embarrassment.

But Max’s presence, his heated touch and low, sinful voice have you spellbound, uncaring of your audience.

“After we’ve satisfied your family’s demands to see us with their own eyes,” he purrs. “We’ll be boarding my jet bright and early for someplace much more ... pleasurable.”

Your skin prickles with delicious tension as Max continues in that low, rough whisper.

“We’ll spend a few lazy days lounging on a private beach in Aruba, just the two of us.” His large hand roves provocatively down the curve of your spine to boldly grip your backside, pulling your hips flush against the insistent bulge in his designer jeans. “Catching up on all the things I’ve been dreaming about for months, schatje.”

A tremulous whimper escapes your parted lips at the blatant promise underlying Max’s words. You flatten your palms against the firm planes of his chest, feeling his powerful heartbeat thundering in time with your own.

“A-And after that?” You somehow manage in a breathy rasp, scarcely daring to hope.

Max’s only response is a low, thrumming chuckle that you feel vibrate across your heated skin. His chin dips, molten blue eyes searing into yours with naked hunger.

“After that?” He husks, stealing the breath from your lungs with a devastating grin. “Well, then I’ll finally get to introduce the world to my favorite girl.”

And neither of you can wait.

[mrrharper]

The Jocks Of Dark Forest College

They say stereotypes aren't real and one shouldn't judge anyone based on these preconceived notions. Well, they forgot to tell Dark Forest College. This place was like out of a 4/10 comedy. There were nerds with their glasses and button up shirts who spent their whole time either studying or worrying about exams. There were rich assholes to whom getting good grades came easily, leaving a lot of time to keep up their unearned social status. Obviously, a group of politically conscious activists could also be found, people who used the campus as one big soapbox and fought for whatever their cause was. 

And then there were the jocks. Unquestioned leaders, alphas even, of the whole student body. Members of the football, soccer, hockey, wrestling and baseball teams, into which the school pumped enormous amounts of public and private funds. It was easiest to find them studying sports management or health and nutrition. Obviously they were not present during most lectures, and their GPAs were just barely above the NCAA minimum for sports scholarships. They were strong and arrogant meatheads, gym bros dumb as rocks who spent their days either working out, running through drills or broing out with their bros. They were the powerhouse of Dark Forest's Greek Row, controlling most fraternities and fucking most sororities. 

With one major exception.

Darren Frost was meant to be a dumb jock. He was a junior playing on the Dark Forest Blackbirds football team, one of their most dangerous weapons on defense. A cornerback expected to be a top 5 pick in the draft class he would one day be a part of. His numerous interceptions, flashy tackles and defensive touchdowns made him a household name, a campus celebrity. And yet he was not a cocky meathead. He majored in economics with a minor in sociology. His grades never fell below a very respectable level. He was the recipient of both athletic and academic scholarships. And he never boasted about his sexual conquest. At one point there was even a rumor going around that he had a thing for a guy in high school. He was the exception to every rule of Dark Forest social life. And nature does not like exceptions. At least not the nature of Dark Forest College.

Every year in April the Blackbirds threw a giant campus-wide celebration for the athletes that were leaving their teams because they were graduating or they were drafted by the NFL or other major sports leagues. The so-called Draft Class Graduation was the biggest social event during the summer semester outside of maybe the actual graduation ceremony. The Dean was always orchestrating the whole thing himself, publicly thanking all soon-to-be former student athletes for deciding to play with the Dark Forest logo on their jerseys. Then, the crowds of rowdy jocks filled all bars and clubs around campus and partied the whole night, drinking booze and fucking chicks along the way.

Darren was always very uncommitted when it came to being a part of the partying culture at DFC. He went to the Draft Class Graduation during his first year on the team, which he did not particularly enjoy. That’s why the next year he just skipped the whole thing against the clear expectations of his teammates. He went out with his bros every now and then, but not as frequently as some of the other guys. He also infamously never drank as much as most athletes. Now he was on the finish line of his junior year and he planned on doing things exactly the same as the year prior - attend the formal part of the ceremony, talk a bit to the guys he knew and go home while the rest of the team went out to get black out drunk in some sleazy bar.

His teammates had other plans, however. After all speeches were done people started slowly leaving the campus grounds for the dozen or so bars that offered student discounts for the day. What Darren wanted to do at that point was to quietly and quickly leave the crowd of hyped up students and get to his dorm on the opposite side of DFC's campus. Instead, right after the Dean said his final words he was surrounded by almost the entire defensive line.

"yer comin' with us bruh" Drake, a defensive end, took a step forward "ya know yer comin' dude."

"Guys" Darren smiled as he looked at the group of football players standing in front of him. "Ya know these kinds of parties or whatever aren't my thing. Also, remember we have practice tomorrow at 2. Don't wanna be hungover doing drills" He chuckled a bit. The guys grinned but didn't move.

"bruh, who cares about practice, that's tomorrow brah" Another player, Travis, came out of the crowd. "today we party dude!"

"heard a bunch of chicks from Epsilon Omega are goin' to The Blaze man! think 'bout all that wet pussy bro!" Chris, a defensive lineman, chimed in. The Blaze was famously the favorite club of the entire football team. 

Darren listened to his teammates trying to convince him to join them. He marveled at how single-minded they all seemed. When they thought about going out, it was literally all they could think about. And when they were on the field, their minds were completely set on the game or drill they were doing. This was what seemed to set him apart from the rest of his team--

"so dude? yer comin', right bro?" Drake looked Darren right in the eyes, an arrogant smirk on his face. "am not takin' no for an answer dude, ya gotta live the jock life bruh"

Darren sighed and rolled his eyes. He didn't really have any plan for what to do that evening, there was nothing important happening the next day, except that 2PM practice. He could, potentially, go and order just one drink, then excuse himself early. 

"Okay, okay, I'll go. Damn, y'all are a giant pain in the ass" He finally caved, and was met with all the guys patting him on the back, as well as a few whistles and cheers. They all chuckled and made their way towards the club.

When they arrived at the establishment, the entire space was very much packed. When they entered through the door though, the crowd immediately made space for the jocks. They were royalty in this club and they were very much treated as such. The Blackbirds' defensive line confidently walked up to a big table towards the back and moments later it was free for them to sit at. Darren was not fully comfortable with being treated that way, he'd have no problem just standing, leaning by the wall and sipping on his drink, but the rest of the guys made sure he came exactly where they went.

After making sure everyone in their immediate surroundings knew that the football team claimed these tables as theirs, the jocks began leaving to order, talk or flirt. Darren was one of the first to stand up and walk up to the bar, not wanting Drake or Chris to moan that he was not “livin the jock life". He ordered a drink with barely any alcohol in it, conscious of the practice he would have to go through tomorrow. As he did he saw a few of the guys already trying to pick up girls who started moving towards the athletes' sable the moment they came into the club. Almost every player on the team seemed to sleep with a different chick every week, and while Darren did not have much of a problem with that, it just wasn't how he did things. While his bisexuality was more or less evenly split he was on a guy-only streak recently. He experienced a few hookups with girls from DFU though, and they didn’t really satisfy him. He was looking for something more that casual sex and--

"dude, yer drinkin this fag shit?" Travis looked at Darren as he sat down at their table. "broooooooo, ya gotta taste some real shit bro" And with one swift move he took Darren's drink away from him and replaced it with a bottle of beer, the same one Travis had in his hand. "once ya taste this stuff, yer never gonna buy that fairy shit again, bruh". 

Darren looked at the bottle that was now standing in front of him. He didn't recognize the brand or the type, but he was not an avid drinker so he just assumed it was some less popular beer other guys from the team really liked. He took a sip. It did not taste good, it was way too sour and much more carbonated for him to even remotely enjoy the taste. But again, not wanting Trevor to harass him about this, he slowly worked his way through the content of the bottle, one small sip at a time.

The beer took surprisingly little time getting to his head. Not 5 minutes after getting through the entire bottle Darren felt slightly dizzy. Surprised by this, he inspected the bottle but found nothing that would suggest the alcohol was particularly strong. He put the bottle on the table and looked around, watching his teammates dance in the middle of the bar, talking up random girls or being surrounded by them. They were celebrities here and it showed.

“hey, gorgeous” Darren was suddenly startled by a feminine voice coming from his right. He turned his head and saw a young woman, wearing a crop top and shorts - both very revealing, standing next to him and looking at his arms. He looked at her face and saw hunger in her eyes - she had a very clear goal in mind.

“Uhhh, hey” He responded, half-whispering, before putting on his standard, confident voice. “You need anything?” The woman giggled in reply. She then sat down beside him and put her hand on his biceps.

“Oh, there certainly is something” She gently squeezed his arm. “And I think you already know what it is.” Her hand started traveling up his arm, reaching his shoulder that she started slowly massaging, while also putting her other hand on his thigh.

Darren indeed knew what the woman wanted, but he himself didn’t really want for anything to happen between him and any woman tonight. He just wasn't in the mood for sex, and the continuous buzzing in his head caused by this weird beer Travis gave him certainly didn’t help.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but that’s not gonna happen tonight.” Darren said, as he gently took off the woman’s arm that had been feeling up his arms. “I don’t think you’ll have much problem finding more eager guys here.” He chuckled lightly, hoping the woman would leave him and look for some of his teammates. She looked at him for a few long seconds without saying a thing, which made Darren slightly uncomfortable, but before he had a chance to react she stood up.

“Well in that case, have a good night my gorgeous jock.” She smiled at him once again, then left and disappeared in the crowd. Darren felt like there was something slightly sinister in her last sentence, but dismissed the feeling. Damn, he needed some water, that beer was not good for his head.

“bro, what the fuck dude?” Drake suddenly appeared by his side. He was shirtless and sweaty, with signs of lipstick on his upper body suggesting he had already found a girl to get some action with. “did ya see these tits bro? guys would kill for Beth to come to them out of her own, and ya just let her go man?”

“You may not believe it, but I’m not always in the mood for sex” Darren rolled his eyes.

“exactly bruh, i don’t believe ya dude, yer a jock bro” Drake came up to him and put his arm around Darren’s shoulder “so ya should be horny as fuck bruh, like 24/7 or somethin’ like that” He then scratched his crotch, his cock visibly hard under his shorts.

“Sure, man” Darren didn’t really know how to respond so he got himself out of Drake’s arm and walked up to the bar to get something to drink. But when he got here and was ready to order, he felt that he was holding something. He looked down to see a bottle of that weird beer Travis gave him in his hand. Only it wasn’t his empty bottle. This one was full, unopened even. How did it-- damn, that buzzing in his head just wouldn’t stop. What was he planning to do? Oh yeah, get something to drink. He looked at the bottle for a moment. Then, as if driven by muscle memory, he opened the bottle and took a large sip. This didn’t taste that bad. Well, duh, if it tasted bad he wouldn’t have bought it. Wow, he was such a dumbass sometimes. Darren grinned to himself and made his way back to the football team’s table.

He was immediately surrounded by a few of his bros. Propped up by tons of alcohol, they were loud and obnoxious, making crude jokes and expecting Darren to join in. For now he just sipped on his beer and listened to the conversations happening around him, while trying to ignore the buzzing in his head. Travis and, uhhh… Brett? Was it Brett? No, wait, it was Travis and… Brandon, yes, Brandon. Brandon and Travis were loudly discussing how one of them has been juggling two chicks at the same time, and both found this hilarious. Darren felt inclined to follow their conversation, but when he tried to focus on what they were saying too much he felt the pain in his head intensify.

“bro, i’m tellin’ ya, yer dick feels great when ya give it fresh pus every week”

“yeah dude, that sounds sick, but ya know how chicks are… i bet Jessica would bitch about, like, infidelity or exclusivity or some other bullshit, i mean how do you make sure these chicks don’t get mad as fuck?”

Darren found this conversation weirdly fascinating. Normally he would steer away from any discussion like that, as he didn’t really like to listen as his teammates describe their dating life and strategies for hookups in detail. 

“bro, there’s one correct answer here - ya don’t tell ‘em dawg!” Wait, who said that? He did? Wow, that was unexpected. Except, why would it be? He was just talking with his bros, it would be unexpected if he didn’t join the conversation, right? Right?

“exactly bruh” Travis burst out laughing as he patted Darren on the back. “that’s what i’m talkin’ about. why the fuck would they have to know, i’m the one who’s the source of anythin’ good in their lives huhuhuhuh”. Brandon and Darren joined in, chuckling like idiots.

The discussion continued and Darren found himself in this weird state where he was sure he was taking part in conversations with his bros, joking and talking about getting chicks for a quick fuck, but at the same time his brain seemed to not register most of what was happening around him. He knew what was happening right in that moment, but what happened just a moment ago? A blank void. The party at the bar kept on going and Darren was an active part of that, always by his bros’ side but everything seemed disconnected from reality, somehow.

He was sitting by their table, officiating an arm wrestling competition between the linebackers. A moment later he’s standing by the bar watching as a teammate of his gets a girl to go to the bathroom with him. Suddenly he’s leaning against the wall and looking at some hot guy’s ass.

Darren blinked and looked around. He didn’t remember going to the bathroom. He looked down. There was a chick down there, slowly unzipping his pants and freeing his hard cock. I took him a moment to register what was going around him and in that time the girl - wait, was that, ugh… Betty… or, Brittney… yeah, Betty, that chick form earlier - turned around and put her bare ass in front of his dick.

“You promised action. Now deliver, my football star” she purred. Darren looked at her hole and was overcome by some instinct he didn’t recognize.

“Fuck yeah” he growled and got ready for his next conquest. Wait, conquest? His brain didn’t have time to process this thought though because his mind turned off just as he pushed his cock deeper.

Darren slowly opened his eyes. Fuck, he felt as if his head was about to explode. What… what was… he was… ugh, damn that fucking headache. Oh, yeah! He got drunk at a bar with his team. Why did he agree to drink so much booze—

Wait. Where was he? Darren looked around. He wasn’t at the bar, and he wasn’t in his dorm room. Maybe some kind of office? No no no, it didn't look like that either. God, why were the lights so bright? Darren raised his hand to cover his eyes— what the fuck? Why was he wearing his uniform? He looked down and yeah, he was in full gear, as if just before a game. Something was very wrong.

A silhouette appeared in front of him. Darren narrowed his eyes and recognized Drake, one of his teammates, also in full gear, walking up to him holding a protein shake in his hand

”take that, brah” His bro said, extending his hand with the shaker to Darren, who eagerly accepted it, suddenly very hungry. He then quickly drank the whole mixture. It tasted of peanut butter and banana, his favorite flavor.

”Thanks dude” Darren smiled Drake and gave him back the shaker, who in return slapped him on the shoulder and took a few steps back, now standing on the side of the room, which… wait, it was a locker room! His eyes now used to the lighting, he recognized the rows of lockers on the sides and the familiar smell of sweat reached his nostrils.

”What… what’s happening, Drake?” He asked, but the other football player did not react, standing still in the corner, looking straight with his arms behind his back. Only then did Darren realize that he was tied to the chair, ropes going around his abdomen and legs.

“What the fuck?” He muttered to himself, the headache still going. He tried to get Drake’s attention a few more times, but without much success. 

The door to the locker room opened and an older man wearing a very expensive suit walked inside. The man was holding something in his hand, it looked like a football helmet. Darren looked up as he stood in front of him.

”I’m glad to see you’re awake.” Darren furrowed his brow. That voice sounded a lot like that of Dean Prescott. Wait, what was he doing here?

”Sir… what am I doing here?” He asked. “And what time is it… I have practice at 2 and—”

”Oh, yes, the practice.” the Dean laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m going to make sure you’ll be there. Oh, don’t you worry about that. But first, I have one more thing to take care of.” With that, he put the helmet he was holding on Darren’s head, then looked him right in the eyes.

”You’ve been a pain in my ass for three years now, but finally I’m going to sort out the mess you’ve created.” The man said as a weird buzz suddenly surrounded Darren’s mind. The sound was extremely annoying, not loud enough to keep him from hearing what the Dean was saying, but loud enough that he couldn’t ignore it. Thankfully the helmet’s visor stopped the light in the room from assaulting Darren’s tired eyes.

”The entire time I’ve been the dean at Dark Forest I made sure everything worked perfectly. And that involved making sure that every student had a very specific role to play while attending my school. It’s way easier to control what’s going on when everyone behaves in predictable ways.” A smirk appeared on the older man’s face as he slowly walked up to Drake, who was still standing like a statue. “Nerds, theater kids, rich assholes” He put his hand around Drake’s shoulders “and of course jocks.” Dean’s hand moved south until it encountered Drake’s biceps. The man gave it a firm squeeze, a cocky smirk clearly displayed on his face. Darren watched the scene in pure confusion, not understanding why Drake didn’t react to Prescott acting like a weirdo-- fuck, that buzzin’ made it hard to concentrate, bro.

“Ever since I’ve started my program to make sure every member of the student strictly conformed to the role that I assigned them I’ve encountered no hiccups.” The Dean turned back towards Darren. “Take our man Drake Harris for example, he’s been incredibly easy to steer onto his correct path. Do you know he used to be a member of a glee club in high school?” He let out a hollow laugh “What insanity! But all it took was one two-hour football practice and Harris was a proud meathead, incapable of thinking about theater ever again. He’s now the jock he’s supposed to be. Right, Mr. Harris?” The Dean looked at Drake, who in response moved, his body shifting into an arrogant stance and a grin appearing on his face, then said:

“Yeah, dude” Drake’s voice was weirdly neutral, lacking some of his usual bravado and sounding a bit robotic. “I am a dumb jock. I work out every day. My IQ is lower than 80 and I have no interest in studying. I fuck every gril I want, and I fuck as many girls as I want. I am the alpha in the room. I am the greatest player this school has ever seen.” After he was finished, he went back to his previous stance, hands behind his back, looking straight ahead.

Darren looked at this whole scene with wide eyes, the buzz fading into the background as the implications of what he’s heard registered in his head.

“What are you..” He started speaking, only to realize his speech was a bit slurred, making him sound kinda drunk. Or kinda dumb. “Uhhh… so you, like… turn students into walking stereotypes?” Damn, why was it suddenly so hard for him to form a sentence and say it?

“I guess you could say so.” Dean Prescott moved towards Darren, stopping in front of him and looking down. “And you are the first obstacle I’ve encountered. You, Mr. Frost, were supposed to be just like Harris and the rest, a dumb brute who gets his brain turned into paste. But you just had to be all smart and academically successful.” He spoke the last few words with a high-pitched, mocking tone. “Oh, and gay. Or bi or whatever. God, what a disaster, a football player who gets fucked in the ass, disgusting.” He then looked at the watch on his wrist, chuckled and looked at Darren sitting speechless in front of him. “But this problem too is going to be solved in just a moment. The protein shake should have been absorbed by your body by now and the helmet is about to finish the priming stage.” 

“What’s gonna… happen to me…” Darren drawled, the buzzing growing in intensity and the headache coming back with more force. The older man leaned in and looked him in the eye.

“I’m gonna make sure you’ll turn into the dumb jock you were supposed to be form the moment you first stepped foot on this campus.”

Suddenly, the visor exploded with light, blinking images quickly appeared on it and then disappeared before Darren’s brain could register what was on them. The buzzing got so loud he could barely hear the Dean talking, even though he was standing right in front of him.

“Just a few minutes of this and you’ll be just one of dozens of dumb jocks of Dark Forest.”

Darren opened his eyes, surprised by some loud noise right in front of him. He blinked a few times and grinned. Chris had just slapped Brandon in the ass with a towel. Everyone was laughing at them and Darren quickly joined in. He looked around. He was in the football team’s locker room but couldn’t really remember--

“ey brah!” Drake, who was sitting right next to him, punched him in the shoulder “ya alright dude? cause yer lookin’ like ya just woke up bro. or maybe ya got distracted thinkin' bout Betty's wet pussy”

“nah, am fine, just…” Darren didn’t know what he wanted to say, so he just sat with his mouth slightly ajar, a dumb expression on his face, images of some chick's ass flooding his brain. He started drooling and scratched his crotch, while Drake just laughed in response.

“dude, yer so fuckin dense brah” He put on his helmet, still chuckling. Darren followed suit, putting on his own and taking his mouth guard in his hand.

“am a football player bro, ain’t gonna find no Einsteins here dude” He responded, a grin appearing on his face. Then he flexed both his arms, his biceps bulging under his skin. “just a bunch of fuckin’ meatheads, amirite bro?”

“fuckin A brah” Drake said. Then they exchanged fistbumps and stood up.

“ya ready for some fuckin’ football, bros?” Darren shouted to the rest of his teammates and got a bunch of ‘fuck yeahs’ in response. “then let’s fuckin go brahs!” He said and ran towards the field.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Allure

Part Three: Smoke

❥ Park Seonghwa x fem reader x Kim Hongjoong

Part One & Part Two

➯a/n: YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BEOOOOTCHESSS ITS HERE HOLD ONTO YOUR PANTIES. finally finally finally!! im so glad i got to write this, and if there's enough demand i'll spoil yall with pure smut of these three emotional wrecks 😎

✃ "This is home."

♫ "I don't smoke except for when I'm missing you." -Smoke, Mitski ♫ Allure Soundtrack ♫

✫彡wordcount: 13k (whoops)

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, yandere, a/b/o

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: i regret nothing GENERAL: alpha MATZ/omega reader, pack dynamics, family trouble, angst, heat induced illness, shmoking shweed 🍃, worshipping the moon, general werewolf things, briefly proof-read. SMUT: highlights include; hella dirty talk, heats and ruts, fingering, threesome, emotional sex, like seriously emotional on a soul level

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

ALLURE ⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky @choichaeyiul @cheynalexilaiho @haven-cove @hwasbabygirl @gong-fourz @chaoticfloral @hyukssunflower @unlikelysublimekryptonite @tinybada

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART THREE ˚➶ ｡˚

"You shouldn't smoke, y'know?"

The words slip up your throat and past your lips before you can stop them. That seems to be a common reoccurrence with your body now adjusting to having your blocker ripped out. You're starting to be less surprised with the thoughts that tumble out without your consent, but you still look a little shocked as you speak so plainly to the alpha.

"Sorry," you mumble, averting your eyes as Seonghwa looks directly at you while nursing the joint between his fingers.

"Why's that?" He asks tartly, a puff of the smoke rising into the air. It dances around his head as it slowly dissipates.

On the side of the road, you're sat on the edge of the concrete- with Seonghwa standing like a guard tower next to you. The van is just a few long strides away, and you can hear the chatter as San and Wooyoung fight about how to correctly change a tire.

"It's bad for you," you state simply, "for your lungs."

"I'm fine," he dismisses quickly, taking another long puff. "I'm a big bad wolf."

You huff out a laugh at his deadpan voice: so flat that you almost think he's serious, but when you look up at him you find a small smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, okay, talk to me when you're coughing up a lung," you joke as you go back to facing the field, locking your gaze as you feel him move to sit next to you.

His legs sprawl out further than yours into the grass as he mirrors your position, leaning his weight back on his hands and looking at the vibrant summer colors.

"Can I ask you somethin', Omega?"

You hate the way your wolf prances in joy when he calls you by your status. Nobody ever does that anymore, only to Alphas to show respect. "Sure?"

"Tell me about your past packs. I want to know everything."

He doesn't say it like a question, but he doesn't use his commanding voice. It's a small gesture, really it's the bare minimum not to force you to tell your story, but you're still grateful for the opportunity to think it over before you open your mouth.

You don't do so for a few slow moments, but when you do, you tell the truth to him. "I hated them, mostly."

That seems to peek his interest, he draws in his legs and rests his arms on his knees as he leans towards you, flicking his joint to the road before his eyes become unblinking even though you never meet his stare.

"In my born pack, I never felt like I fit in. I was the first Omega born in a while, the only one there even. They didn't bother to teach me about anything. How to nest, hunt, none of that. I wasn't involved in rituals or even taken to The Thing. My mom was okay, I guess. She loved me, but I guess not as much as she would have loved me if I were a different status... cause when I turned eighteen they threw me to the curb."

You still remember it clearly, the look of disgust on your older sister's face as she finally got to tell you how disappointing you were to the family of strong Beta's.

"But my last pack... I was a lot happier. Alpha Fairchild was very sweet. He took me in under his wing when he found me. He and his wife taught me how to nest, how to control my fangs and claws, how to present if I ever got a mate, stuff I should've know all along... There were other Omegas there but still, we were a little, uh, different I guess, from the rest of the pack. They didn't let us do rituals, but I did start going to The Thing every year with the Fairchilds."

He watches, owl-eyed, as you speak softly, committing every word to memory as he absorbs them.

"But-" You clear your throat before you can get choked up on your emotions, "they passed a couple years ago. A rouge broke out of the prison and decided that I'd be a good snack. My Alpha fought him but... but age was catching up to him, he wasn't as fast as he used to be."

His wolf whines internally as he sees a tear roll down your cheek, deep regret settling in his bones as he remembers how they mocked your late Alpha.

      

"His wife got sick when their bond was broken, and she never recovered. Told me I should lead the pack in their absence, but honestly she had a fever so high it could have touched the moon."

The silence between you is only broken by the far off voices of his pack.

That is, until he speaks. "You'll be a great leader."

"Yeah, right-"

"I'm serious."

You finally meet his gaze, and you can see the sincerity swirling in the dark brown of his eyes. "You will be a great addition to this pack. Selene knows what she's doing, doesn't she? Every member of this pack is a leader in their own right, and you're no different, Omega. By our side, you could rule the world if you wanted to..."

He cups your cheek with all the gentleness in his heart, thumb stroking your cheek bone as he continues, "you're already feeling it, aren't you? I saw the dents in your tub, no little Omega on blockers could cause damage like that." Your heart skips a beat as his hand trails down slowly, tracing his bite with the pad of his index finger. "Mind, body, soul, and wolf... I can feel you, just like I feel Joong. Can't you feel us?"

You can't believe your eyes as you see the first born Alpha tearing up, caressing your neck like you're a piece of ancient fine china that will shatter at the slightest bit of pressure.

"Can't you feel me?"

The sounds of the others become muffled to you as he rests his forehead against yours, a tender gesture that makes your wolf melt into his.

"We are what we are. Why do you fight it, Omega?"

The affectionate bond is broke when someone shouts, making you jump back. "Hey, love birds! We fixed it!" Mingis voice pulls you away from Seonghwa, and you scramble back to the van with a heat on your cheeks and a lot on your mind.

As you climb into the vehicle, you catch a glimpse of the oldest member. Exactly where you left him, unmoving until Hongjoong grabs his shoulder and snaps him from his trance.

He blinks a few quick times, and the tears and tenderness are gone by the time the van lurches to life.

˚➶ ｡˚

The farm house staring back at you is giant. Compared to your house that's a lifetime away, it may as well be a mansion that's been plopped down in the middle of nowhere.

     The last few hours of the journey were awkward, more so than before your midnight rendezvous with Hongjoong and your mid-morning conversation with Seonghwa. So, you were grateful to be out of the cage on wheels.

     Lia and Wooyoung immediately jump out of the van, running up onto the wrap around porch and into the tall door. San and Mingi follow after, carrying the small amount of bags: all but yours which is clutched to your chest as you gape at the house.

     Under pretty much any other circumstances, you'd have been thrilled to start calling this place home. But Seonghwa places his hand on the small of your back, and you're reminded that this will most likely become the house that you're locked in for the foreseeable future; two criminal alphas and their pack along with them, trapping you.

   Hongjoong arm finds its way around your shoulders. "Welcome home, Dolly~" He chimes while bending to kiss your head.

      "You'll like it here," Seonghwa says in a much more lukewarm tone, "our pack isn't very big, but they'll respect you. You can have free rein of the estate, but if you try to pass the gates, you'll regret it." He moves his hand and grips the side of your head, kissing in a way that's akin to affection, to love. But it's much too forceful and piercing to your soul. Especially paired with his words.

     "Alpha!" A deep voice comes barreling towards you, and you look up from the dirt to see the tall figure that accompanies it. "Thank goodness!" He tackles Seonghwa off of you, into a crushing hug. "Thank the moon! I was about to lose my mind," he chuckles, and you almost miss the small, fond smile on the alphas lips as he pats the man's back.

      He turns and acknowledges you briefly with a hello and a bow before he gives Hongjoong the same treatment. He doesn't hide his glee like his other half does, he laughs softly and hugs him back just as tightly.

     "Holding down the fort for us?" He asks as they release each other.

     "Barely," he sighs before turning back to you, holding out his hand. "I'm Yunho, nice to- ow!"

    "No touching." The brunette alpha groans, pulling you into his side possessively.

     "Oh, of course! Sorry, sorry," he apologizes quickly, and while he's looking at you- it's clear that the apology is to his offended alpha. "Well, it's nice to meet you, we were all thrilled to hear."

    "Yeah..." The small pinch on your side courtesy of Seonghwa urges you to continue, "thank you. Nice to meet you too."

    "Well, uhm, Yeosang and Jongho are out by Greenes territory doing recon, why don't you both- sorry, you three all come in and get settled."

     You're too anxious and swarmed in thoughts to care about what they're talking about, just tightly holding onto your bag as you follow behind Yunho and Hongjoong.

    Your body doesn't seem to have trouble going up the stairs and onto the porch, but it halts at the doorway. You search the area visible to you. It's a warm looking home. Inviting. Lived in but not dirty. Decorated tastefully. It looks like a regular farm house. And that makes your stomach hurt, knowing that's far from the truth.

    "Let's go, omega. Hot as fuck out here." Seonghwas voice from behind you startles you back to life, and your legs comply as he pushes you into the building gently as he can manage.

   The slam of the door makes you flinch, holding your bag tighter to your chest.

     When he yells, you twitch away, stumbling further into the home even though it's not directed at you. "Jesus, a man leaves for a few weeks and his house becomes a reck!"

     "Sorry, man, we were kinda busy breaking you out from prison," San quips as he passes into the living room to your left.

     "Hey, omega!" Hongjoong bounds up to you with his ever present manic glee, grabbing your hand and almost making your drop your only earthly possessions. "I'll show you around!"

       The first floor is lively, everyone buzzing with energy from the alphas return. He shows you the day room, with a big colored tv which enamors you for a bit until you're drug to the large kitchen. He tells you that you have full access, but don't try anything dumb with the knives or they'll become off limits. There's a bathroom, a laundry room, and a door that has multiple locks on it. He tells you not to worry about that last one. 

   The second floor is a little more quiet. You only see Lia in the halls before she disappears into one of the many rooms. He opens up every door while he speaks a name. "Yunho," he explains at the room with a disheveled look, "hm, he needs to pick up before Hwa gets on his ass." The next door reveals a room with a huge bed and nearly nothing else, "Wooyoung." A room with a heavy smell which makes you shiver, "Yeosang," and you make a mental note to avoid that person when you meet them.

The next room makes up for it, the soft and comfortable smell of an omega washing away the fear briefly, "Mingi." The next room,which shocks you because, there's an obvious smell of a female beta, "Sannie and Cheonsa. She's probably outside tending to the animals." The next door is already open, and Lia waves to you. "Lia, as you can see," he waves back and leads you to the last door in the hall, "and her brother, Jongho."

     "That's all of us! You'll get used to a full house soon," he grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs to the third and final floor. "This one's all us." You know he means you, him, and Seonghwa. Because there's not even a hint of any other scent besides them despite being in the same house.

    It's overwhelming them.

    It's one straight hall coming up the stairs, and behind them is a small open library area. One door is the bathroom. One is an empty room, save for a few boxes. You try to push away the quick remark he makes about making it into a nursery, but that makes your stomach hurt as well. The second to last in the hall is an office area with two desks, overflowing with stacks of paper and files. He says you don't have to worry about what they do in here, but you know it has to do with their 'line of work'.

     The furthest door in the hall nearly makes you gag , but your wolf is howling and prancing excitedly. It smells, no, it reeks of the two alphas. He opens the door with a wide smile. A proud smile.

     You step in hesitantly. There's an open door, a closet with neatly hung clothes over a set of drawers. "We'll make some room for your clothes as well. Next time I go to town I'll get you some, you didn't pack a lot." The bed side tables on either side of the enormous bed have a lamp and little things strewn on their surface. On the left is a walkman, a nail file, a framed photo that you can't quite make out from this distance. On the right is an ashtray, a small vase with fake flowers in it, and a half burned candle.

"You can make yourself at home, I promise. I know it will take a while to get comfortable... But you can make this place your own as well." He urges you forward and takes your bag gingerly. "I'll help you unpack."

It's not an offer, you quickly realize as he unzips the large duffel bag. You stand there anxiously in the middle of the room as he takes your things out and sets them on the dark grey comforter that knocks another wave of their mixed scent into the air every time he sets your things on it. "If you need anything too, don't be afraid to ask." He smiles over his shoulder at you. "You won't be going anywhere for a while, so let us know how to make you comfy!"

The nonchalant aura around him makes you angry. Acting like you're a prized guest, and like they didn't forcefully bond with you and drag you more than half way across the country.

He notices your tears before you do, pausing with your own walkman in his hands as he turns around. He discards it on the bed and fully turns to you.

With a sigh, he sits on the edge of the mattress. "Come here."

When you make no move to come forward, only standing still and crying with your head down, he uses his commanding voice. "Omega, come."

Your wolf nearly breaks her hind legs with the force she pushes you forward with. And despite your deepest anxieties and fears nagging at you, you find yourself standing between his knees. "Omega, look at me," he does it again, forcing your eyes to meet his with only his words. "You scared?"

"Yes..." It's barely above a whisper. But he catches it. You could whisper at the volume of an ant and he would catch it.

"Omega, tell me something that would comfort you."

You fight the words on your tongue, but it's useless. You're only grateful they haven't used that voice to do darker things. "I want to be home."

    "Something else, omega."

    "I want to nest."

"Stay."

He leaves you quickly, and your feet are rooted in place despite your pout. You blink away the remaining tears in your eyes, tired of crying over that which can't be changed. You're here. You're mated to two criminals. You're stuck in the middle of nowhere.

     About seven internal wars later, he returns with his arms packed. "Here you go! Set it up wherever you like, Dolly."

     He drops everything on the floor, and you hesitate to break his command of 'stay' before taking a step toward the pile and looking curiously.

     "Can..."

      He looks up from the pile, eyes eager, "hm?"

    "Can I do it on my own...please?"

    It's as if you can see the way his wolf's ears drop along with his eyes, but he nods nonetheless and takes a finally glance at you before he closes the door behind him.

˚➶ ｡˚

      You wanted the corner of the room. Your wolf wanted the bed, arguing he said anywhere.

      Halfway through building your saftey nest in the far corner, you get tired of her incessant howling.

    You settle at the foot of the bed, building a small bed, just enough room for you incase they get ideas of joining you; they'd end up on the floor. You tuck your empty bag under your head, leaving your things where Hongjoong left them, too afraid to encroach on their space although they'd done much worse to you.

    If you focus hard enough, you can smell the faint memories on the fabric. Smells that remind you of home. Smells that lure you to fitful sleep.

     The sound of your soft, even breaths, reach Hongjoongs ears from his place in the office next door.

   "She's asleep," he informs the others in the room quietly, followed by a threat, "wake her up and I'll kill you."

     Yunho nods quietly, brining out a manilla file from his lap and setting it on the desk where Seonghwa is sat behind, and Hongjoong is sat ontop of. "Pictures of the Greene territory. Alpha's house is up on this hill, it's a good bit away but they'd hear any commotion, so we need to be in and out with whatever you've got planned."

     Hongjoong leans over disinterested and glances at the developed photos. "How many in the house?"

    "We've seen about six come and go, but Yeosang is out there now sniffing to pin point for sure."

    The eldest wolf simply hums an acknowledgment, glaring at the photos of the large, smiling pack.

    A silence drapes them gently while the leaders commit the layout to memory.

    "So-"

    "How-"

    The beta bows his head, letting the elder speak first. "How many sales since we left?"

    "About the same, some customers dropped when you guys' names hit the news. Only a few, though."

     "Okay. What were you going to say?"

    The brunette shifts in his seat, both of the alphas gazes now fixed on him, on his awkward heartbeat.

     "About your mate... I don't mean to be crass-"

    "Out with it." Hongjoong snaps, leaning towards him in an act of dominance, "what about her?"

      Yunhos face drops, his back pressing into the chair, "do you really know that she's meant to be yours? She seems so... docile."

     "You're questioning us?" Seonghwa grumbles, lip snarling upward, "has the few weeks of being in charge gone to your head?"

    "No, no!" He shouts, quickly placing a hand over his mouth and lowering his volume, "no, Alpha... I'm just worried for her. It doesn't seem like she'll fair well here. She seems... a bit weak."

     "She'll fair just fine, because we're going to take care of her. And you will as well. Everyone here is to treat her with the utmost respect and care. Yes, Yunho, we really know she's meant for us, ask something stupid like that again and you'll earn a trip to the basement."

    "S-sorry," he pouts to himself, wiping it away before he looks up, "am I excused? I haven't slept well the past few weeks, I'd like to rest."

   "Go," the alpha huffs, already beginning to sort through more papers.

    "And be quiet in the hall!" Follows the second man, whispering loudly as the beta scampers away.

˚➶ ｡˚

     A knock at the door is foreign. For you to hear, and for Seonghwa to do at his own door.

    He doesn't get a response as you groggily lift yourself up, so he comes in anyways, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he sees your state.

     "Dinners ready, we're waiting for you."

     You blink up at him, and become brave as you shake your head.

     "You aren't hungry? You need to eat, your heat is-"

    "Do you all eat together?"

    "We do, everyday except weekends. Wooyoung and Cheonsa are wonderful cooks."

     "That's nice..." You sniff the air in attempt to find the wafts of food, but find nothing. With your senses, you can't smell anything other than the scents of your mates permeating in the wallpaper. "I'm not hungry."

    "Come on, let get you some-" He reaches forward to your small nest, where you cower back even more, cutting him off-

     "I don't want to."

      A mute moment falls between you as he stares down at you, and you down at the floor. When you dare look up, your gut fills with regret.

    His lip is snarled up on one side, canine on display and eyes glinting dangerously in the filtered light from the curtains.

    You immediately lower your head, moving at a snails pace as you roll onto your side, then your knees, kneeling in your small nest. "Please, Alpha, I don-"

"You don't get a free pass to be disrespectful just because you're my mate. Pack dinner is non-negotiable, Omega. Do you understand?" You hear the movement from him, but you don't dare look at him again.

"Yes..."

Another beat of silence.

A pregnant pause.

His gaze burns your soul as he takes in every inch of you.

Your trembling fists at either side of your folded legs. Your lowered head, bites on both sides of your neck. Submitting to him so easily, making yourself small as you kneel on the little nest you've built in his space. Already smelling like him and his mate just by napping in their room.

He almost doesn't want to let the heavenly scent of you be tainted by leaving the room.

Almost.

You yip quietly as he tugs you up by your bicep, head still hanging low as you tune out his grumbling. He's careful going down the stairs, watching your feet closely as you descend.

His grip doesn't go away until you're standing infront of the table.

     "Oh my gosh!" A sweet and soft voice coos, and it's quickly followed by the warm embrace of two hands cupping your face. Both calloused and gentle as a spring breeze, the caressing makes you open your eyes wearily.

     The woman holding your face and smiling up at you immediately calms your anxious jitters, and your wolf is drawn into a sense of safety- one that feels like Hyolyn or Chungha, in a way. Like a fellow woman you could lean towards.

     She has shining grey eyes that crinkle with her smile and brown fluffy hair. "Oh, she's so cute!" She coos softly, petting your cheeks in a way that makes you simultaneously confused and comforted.

     "No touching, Cheonsa," Seonghwa chuckles from behind you, making the woman pout briefly as she steps back.

    For a moment, you wonder why he was less stern with her- but your curiosity it settled when her round belly comes into view. You blink at it a few times before you hear her laugh.

    "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to stare!" You move to bow, held upright by the man as the laughter spreads to the seated members of the pack.

    "It's okay, she's pretty big, huh? I'm only six months, she must take after her dad." She cradles her stomach as she moves away to take the seat next to the buff beta. He has an air of proudness around him as he smiles at her. "Sit down, dear, we won't bite."

    You rush to take the seat next to her, instead of the one next to Hongjoong and the unfamiliar man with green hair.

    Despite the fact that she couldn't have been much older than the rest of you, she had a motherly aura that made you feel less like you wanted to dive out of the nearest window.

     Seonghwa takes the seat you had passed up, giving Hongjoong a chaste kiss to the head which makes the smaller alpha beam.

     The table is octangular and a bit cramped, but nobody seems to mind besides you. Though you won't voice your thoughts, you won't even look up until prompted. Across from you, Hongjoong speaks while reaching over and handing you a plate, "we all serve one another during dinner, it's our own little ritual of respect."

      He begins loading the plate with a multitude of foods, a comfortable silence in the room. Comfortable for the pack, at least. You're starting to get restless as you watch his fingers effortlessly maneuver the serving chop sticks.

     Your eyes go up his arm and scan the tattoo on his inner arm before you finally land on his face. He has a smile on his lips. One that's not manic or worn with an edge. One that says he's content, happy.

     He gestures you to set the plate down, and hands you the chopsticks after you do so. "Serve anyone you like, Doll," the glint in his eyes clearly says he hopes you chose him, or Seonghwa even.

     You take a moment to survey the circle.

     Hongjoong and Seonghwa, who you won't serve for a list of reasons. The green haired man with an aura that almost seemed quiet, until you caught a whiff of his scent. Yeosang, your wolf connects as you remember the smell of the room you saw in your brief tour. San and Cheonsa, who you assumed wanted to serve one another. Wooyoung, Mingi, and Lia already had plates- apparently having served one another before your arrival. That left Yunho, who avoided your gaze, and a short and unfamiliar but strangely comforting man.

      With everyone else accounted for, this must be Jongho. He doesn't smell like a werewolf, upon a further sniff. Similar to Lia, in that way. Actually, similar to Lia in a lot of ways. Soft features, brown eyes and hair, chubby cheeks. Was he unfamiliar? You felt like you'd seen him before. Maybe in a news paper or something reporting the groups crimes-

    "Omega," Seonghwa hums, breaking your staring contest with the unwilling participant.

      "Sorry..." You took a deep breath and decided on Yeosang. If he was as scary as his scent came off as, it'd be best to show him some respect and get on his good side. You shakily clench a piece of meat in the chopsticks and hold it out in offering.

     He sits up straight and holds his plate up with both hands, seemingly surprised that you picked him out of any other open plate.

    The alphas seem similarly surprised, watching as you fill the other man's plate before carefully handing over the chopsticks.

He makes quick work of filling Seonghwa's plate, almost as nervous as you as the alphas glare at him. Hongjoongs glare quickly falls into a childish pout, turning to face your lowered head. "Why him?" He drags out.

"Uh?" You look up with wide eyes, "I dunno... He has cool hair."

Wooyoung cackles at the bewildered faces of the leaders, and the noise makes smiles spread across the entirety of the table.

˚➶ ｡˚

The smell of lust is that of overly salted caramel butterscotch.

    Seonghwa's is, at least.

        You bury your nose deeper in the fabric of your bag and whine.

      It's the dead of night, completely silence in the house. Darkness only broken by the moon filtering in through the windows. And you haven't gotten a wink of sleep.

      The smell of the room keeps your rowdy wolf rolling on her back and exposing her underbelly, begging for her mates. And it doesn't help that the sources keep it fresh and wafting. And it especially doesn't help that the elder alpha seems to be having a wet dream.

      You -against your best judgment- hold onto the end of the bed frame and peek your eyes over.

    Hongjoong is laying face down with one of your few pieces of clothing under his head, half under the blanket.

    Seonghwa is completely above the covers, on the other side of the bed and leaving a gap between them that they clearly left for you to fill.

     The sight of him makes you slick — slicker, that is.

    Only in his boxers, one leg bent to the side, tattooed fingers resting idly over the tent that-

   "Hm? 'Mega?" He hums sleepily, blinking down at you.

     You duck back into the false safety of your nest, breathing heavily like you just ran a marathon. Over the fast thrumming of your heart, you hear the bed creak ever so slightly. His steps, in reality are soft and somewhat clumsy from his newly woken state, but they feel like little individual earthquakes to you.

      "What are you doing awake?" He asks quietly, sniffing the air curiously. "Aww," he reaches and pats your head softly, earning a sound that you rarely ever heard yourself make. You purred.

       His smile was soft and earnest as he pets your head, taking a knee just outside of your little safe haven. "You need help?"

Yes! Your wolf wants to scream. Desperately, yes!

You shake your head, no.

He hums, clearly not convinced. His eyes trail down your body and to the little bed you've made. "That can't be as comfy as a bed, can it?"

You don't answer, simply staring up with wide eyes.

"Come lay with us, just until we can get you a mat or something and make your nest more comfortable, yeah?"

You can't lie to yourself, and you certainly can't lie to Seonghwa with his senses that listen to your heartbeat and pick up on every flutter of your eyelashes. Maybe it will help you sleep. You need a good night of rest.

"Okay..."

˚➶ ｡˚

     The first floor is a hive of activity, people to and from and here and there. A multitude of barely familiar scents mixing together. The clink of cutlery and the distant hum of voices.

    You're thankful that Seonghwa didn't drag you down like he did last night, they allowed you to come at your own pace; and if any of them notice you standing at the bottom of the stairs (they do), they don't say anything.

    "Why don't you get something to eat?" A soft suggestion comes from behind you. Lia, you turn to see. "We won't bite," she jokes as she slides past you.

    Unfortunately, you think, you do bite.

    You follow loosely behind her, taking a small bit of the food off the serving plates before standing awkwardly in the doorway.

      The chatter stops slowly and you can feel their eyes on you, but you try your hardest to ignore it as you over-think where to sit.

     Over the open seat between Hongjoong and Yunho, you choose the one between Mingi and Jongho.

    "How'd you sleep?" Cheonsa asks over the silence, clearly trying to break the ice.

    "Fine, thank you... and you?"

    "Oh, I was up and down all night — baby is acting I owe her money, kicking me like that," she laughs, bringing a small smile to your face.

     The chatter between the pack members returns, and you keep mostly to yourself as you eat.

    "- so he wants to see us in person to clear things up, shouldn't take us too long," Seonghwa says as he stands, catching your attention. He comes around the table to stand behind you and you freeze.

     It's quiet again, the members know better than to talk over their leader; especially when he has the stern look on his face.

    Your chair scrapes against the tile as he pulls you back, only a little bit.

     He slides his finger tips down your jaw and under your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. "Will you be okay while Hongjoong and I take care of some business?"

     You nod, hesitantly. You'll obviously be okay. But your wolf doesn't want them to leave.

   "I'll be fine," you force out a verbal response and he hums approvingly.

    Before he backs away though, he comes closer. Close enough to peck your lips gently, before backing away quickly and taking his plate to the kitchen.

    Hongjoong is on you next, and he seemingly forgot the meaning of "privacy", as he shamelessly grabs your hair and tilts your head to meet his eager lips. You jump in shock, although you don't try to pull away as he licks your tongue a few good times before finally pulling away.

      "Ooooh~" Wooyoung whistles, cut off by a hit to his chest from Mingi, "ow! Dickhead!"

     Their bantering is lost on you as Hongjoong speaks, "be good, Dolly."

     You face your plate once more as you feel your ear heating up with embarrassment- and something else.

     From the door, you hear Seonghwa shout, "Yunho, you're in charge!"

Thankfully, the remaining members leave you to your own devices again as everyone finishes up, slowly filtering out and leaving you at the table on your lonesome.

And you sit there. For a long time, you just sit. And you think. And then, you begin to cry.

Because it's only been an hour. And you find yourself missing your alphas.

You keep your noise to a minimum for the sake of the wolves that you can hear in the other room, but one thing slips your mind.

There's another alpha in the house, and he can smell your scent turning sour.

Within seconds, he's snuck up on you, a frown on his face at the smell of an upset omega.

"Hey..." Yeosang whispers as he pulls out a chair one away from you, slowly sitting so as not to spook you.

You mumble out a small, "sorry," as you try and wipe your flowing tears, turning away from him.

"Do you, uhm, do you wanna talk about it?"

"What?"

He looks around the room like he's never seen it before just to avoid your gaze.

You sigh before looking back down at the table you've stared at for more than an hour.

Silence.

Painfully awkward silence and the stench of tears.

A low grumble comes from his throat, seemingly without his knowledge because his eyes widen and he bows his head with an apology. "Sorry, sorry," he rambles, "I'm sorry, my wolf just hates when others are sad."

"Sorry..." You sniff, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh, no, no! Uhm, you know what, can I-" He holds his hand out, "can I just? May I?"

You look down at it cautiously, eyebrows screwed up in confusion, but your wolf tells you to take his hand. And so you do.

     He wraps his fingers around your hand gently and holds it, and you slowly do the same.

     Even more confusion paints itself on your face as your sadness fades into a dull tug in your heart strings. "How are you doing that?" You blurt out.

    "I'm from a pack of healing wolves, it's just second nature to us." He says in a soft tone, something sad in his eyes.

    "Thank you, Yeosang," you say simply.

    The sadness is gone when he smiles up at you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The alphas return sometime in the night, as you sit on the porch with Cheonsa and Lia, talking about simple things and listening to the bugs chirp.

"Welcome back!" Cheonsa says before you even notice they're approaching.

"Ladies," Hongjoong greets with a playfully bow.

"Everything good here," Seonghwa asks more formally, leaning over you and scenting your head.

"Yup, all quiet here."

"Good. Could you give us a moment with our mate, please?"

They're up and into the house before he even finishes his command, leaving you alone with them in the dusk breeze. You greet them with a small smile, and a simple, "you're back."

"What, you expect us to abandon you?" Hongjoong jokes as he sniffs the air, a look of distain quickly overcoming his smile,"hey-!"

"You smell like Yeosang, why?" Seonghwa interjects with a cold glare, both of their stares making you shrink up.

"Oh, he helped me-"

"Helped you?!" The blonde pounces on you and sniffs all over, trying to pinpoint the smell and letting out a growl as the wind prevents him from doing so. He pins your wrists to the wooden porch and moves his nose all along your neck and chest.

      "Not like that!" Your wolf whines at the mere thought of another alpha- another wolf touching you so intimately.

     Hongjoong pauses, and so does Seonghwa who was about to rip the door open to get to the man you smelled of. From above you, the younger tilts his head, his grip lessening enough for you to hold out your hand — where the smell is most potent.

    "I was crying, so he held my hand and did some healing stuff I don't totally understand, but it helped," you explain quickly, hoping to save Yeosangs head from winding up on a stick.

     "Aw, why were you sad?" Hongjoongs tone flips immediately as he helps you sit upright, dusting the dirt off of your back. Seonghwa sits down next to you both, ignoring all the furniture in favor of being on your level.

    "Cause I- my wolf, she missed you..." You admit with a hushed voice, shifting under their intense eyes.

    Something hits them after you say that. Hits their noses.

    Underneath Yeosangs strong alpha scent is you. More specifically, your arousal.

    "Oh," Hongjoong smirks, "she missed us, huh?"

    "Come." Seonghwa stands up quickly and grabs the door knob before turning back and picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of feathers, "not fast enough." He growls as he opens the door, ignoring your (light) protests,  and ignores every thing and every one else as he carries you through the house and up the stairs; all the while Hongjoong follows with a aura of... something that can only be described as manic hunger.

      You land on the bed, and the brunette is above you before you even know what's happening. He straddles your chest and grabs your hand; grimacing at the smell of another wolf on you before nuzzling his cheek all over it. You almost gape at the sight of him rubbing against your hand like a cat, but his blond paramour distracts you — tugging away your pants with one fell swoop.

     You gasp as your slick soaked panties are exposed, the cold air that hits you has no business feeling so good. You cross your legs with an embarrassed whine, only for them to be pried right back open.

     "Don't hide, Dolly~" Hongjoong coos, trailing his nails up your legs teasingly.

      "They'll smell i-"

       "Let them."

     You can't argue with them, not when they've got you this worked up over such simple things. You take a deep breath before you do something you haven't in a long time, you let your wolf drive all of your actions.

     You take your wrist out of Seonghwa's control and slide it all along his neck, allowing yourself to purr as the foreign scent is overwhelmed by your mates.

    And overwhelmed it was, completely washed away and replaced by the mixed scents of the duo by the end of the night.

˚➶ ｡˚

    The next day, breakfast goes about the same. It's less awkward, more flowing conversation. It's just you, your alphas, and San by the time a car horn blares outside.

     "Ah, that's Jongho, he's taking us to Greene's territory so we can finalize our plan," Seonghwa speaks as he reaches across the table and goes to put more food on your plate.

     "Oh, I'm not hungry," you shake your head with a polite hand out to stop him, "thank you, though."

    "You've barely eaten," Hongjoong points out with a frown, looking up from where he was filing his claws. He points with one of them dramatically, "you eat. You're still in heat."

     "Maybe it's settled down, I don't have much of an appetite."

    "But we still haven't knotted y-"

    

     "I'll take your plates! You should get going!" You cut him off with a heat rising in your cheeks, "you have zero tact."

    "That's not a word!" He yells after you before looking toward Seonghwa, who's clearly just as confused and concerned. "Is that normal?" He turns to San, "no, right?"

     "No, heats don't just go away, especially fresh off of blockers and fresh mated." San has a thoughtful look, watching as you clean the plates.

    "Keep an eye on her," Seonghwa orders the beta, taking one last glance at you before leaving.

˚➶ ｡˚

You sit up with a sharp cry, tumbling off of the bed and onto the hardwood as you continue to fight your nightmare.

Downstairs, Yeosang flinches from the loud noise; dropping the basket of eggs Cheonsa was handing over.

Yunho, the designated leader in the alpha's absence, snaps into action. He leaps from his place on the couch and dashes up the stairs, telling commands all the while. "San, Wooyoung, check the borders! Cheonsa, hold up in the basement! Everyone else check the house!"

     Immediately, two wolves are above you. In your nightmare induced panic, you don't register that they are Yunho and Mingi.

You slap away the hands that come towards you, fighting yourself into the corner, where you pull your knees to your chest and hide.

"Hey..." Yunho whispers slowly, lowering himself to your level, "hey, you're okay." He takes a shaky breath and lets it out as a sigh. "Mingi, go and get some water, will you?"

With a nod, Mingi is running to carry out his orders.

     As your panic subsides, pain fills its place. A deep pinch in your stomach and a wave of unbearable heat across your entire body. You look around with wide eyes, searching for your alphas.

    "Where-" you double over and groan, claws digging into the nightstand, "alpha?"

    "I don't- I don't know, they were supposed to be back-"

     "Where is my alphas?!" You bare your teeth at him, forcing a growl back down your throat as you see the kind man flinch. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Yunho. But something is wrong!" You wail as a pain akin to being punched in the stomach hits you.

     "Yeosang!" It's your turn to jump as he yells out the open door.

      Your cries carry through the home, nothing but raw panic and pain.

     You see a blur of green, but that's all before your blurry vision gives out and leads you into darkness.

˚➶ ｡˚

      "Heat build up? I didn't even know that's a thing..." Wooyoung sighs, leaning against the doorway of the alphas bedroom.

    You're laid on the bed in a fitful unconsciousness, Mingi and Cheonsa working carefully to build a nest around you out of your mates clothes. "It's horrible," Mingi whispers, "I had it once, I should have seen this coming..."

    "It's no one's fault," Cheonsa contrasts, leaning back and resting her hands on her belly. "It's a messy situation."

    "Yeah, you could say that again," Lia quips with a pout as she turns a fan to face you.

    "I can't heal it?" Yeosang asks again, biting at the skin around his nails.

    "No," San and Mingi both reply, and the ladder continues; speaking from experience, "she needs to mate to get rid of it."

     "Where the hell are those knot heads?" Wooyoung grumbles, fishing in his pocket. He pulls out a blunt and a lighter earning a look from Cheonsa.

     "Is now really the time?"

     "I'm stressed out, okay?!"

    Your nose twitches in your sleep as he lights it, and as he begins to smoke it, your eyes peek open with a hopefully groan of, "Seonghwa?"

     "Hey, sweetie," Cheonsa greets you softly as you wake, "how are you feeling?"

     You curl up on your self and look for the source of the familiar smell, eyes landing on Wooyoung. "What is that?"

     "Ah, weed?" He answers like it's a question.

    "Want it, please?" You whine, eyes filling with tears. Seonghwa isn't here. Hongjoong isn't here. This is the next best thing, in your pain addled mind. Maybe it will taste like their kisses.

     "Yeah, yeah of course," he approaches slowly and carefully hands it over, all of them watching as you hesitantly wrap your lips around it and breathe in. You barely get enough to have it on your taste buds, but it's enough to trick your wolf into believing it's one of Seonghwa's fleeting pecks or Hongjoong's dominating french kisses.

    And that's enough to put you back to sleep for the time being.

˚➶ ｡˚

When you wake again, you can't stand the heat of the house; even with windows open to let in the breeze and a fan pointed at the sweat-soaked bed.

You allow San to carry you outside, although his touch burns your body. The relief of the cool summer breeze on your heated skin is worth it.

You lay on the porch, tucking a jacket that smells equally like the alphas under your head.

"Where are they..." You whine as another wave of pain settles in your gut, "they said it would be quick, they've been gone all day!"

"Don't worry, I'm sure they'll be back any time."

"How can you know that?"

"I know them."

You leave it at that, listening to natures nightlife in silence between other members of the pack coming to check on you.

It must be hours later. Others stopped coming and going a bit ago. The moon is high in the sky.

Even the bugs seem quieter.

"What the fuck is that smell?!" A bellowing shout nearly had you breaking your jelly-like bones to stand.

"Alpha!" You nearly screech, diving right into Seonghwa, wrapping your arms around him and scenting all over his chest — the dry blood splatter completely lost on you.

"Omega-" He can barely get a word out before you change targets and give Hongjoong the same treatment, also completely ignoring Jongho.

"Where the hell have you been?" San sighs a breath of relief, slumping in his chair where he'd faithfully been watching over you through all the hours of the night. "She has heat build up, she scared the shit out of us!"

"Greene spotted us so we improvised, took him out on the spot but his men blew our tires- heat build up?" Seonghwa's eyes darken, looking over to where you cling to Hongjoong.

His mixture of adrenaline, bloodlust, and the effects of his upcoming rut proves to be a deadly combination.

He snatches you from the younger alpha and growls as he pushes you to the wall of the house. "You stupid omega, I should have knotted you the second I was free. Do you know how dangerous heat build up can be?"

San shrinks up on himself as he hears the rumble in his leaders voice, quickly entering the house and gesturing for Jongho to follow.

"Dolly," Hongjoong begins with a similarly dark tone, "are you finally ready? Just say the word and we can make it all better~."

"Oh, please, yes-" Your words turn into muffled moans as Seonghwa's lips collide with yours roughly. He tastes like copper and cinnamon sugar as he forces his tongue into your mouth. You gladly grant him entrance, closing your eyes and opening your mouth to kiss him back just as passionately.

     Hongjoong slides behind you, sandwiching you between them. The aching in your body is beginning to melt into a deep longing, a burning primal urge. A loud moan comes up your throat and into Seonghwa mouth as Hongjoong slips a hand into your shorts.

You blink your eyes open as Seonghwa pulls away, his eyes deep red and his claws cradling your face. "Why'd you stop?"

"You taste like smoke," he observes, his hips having a mind of their own as they press to yours; subsequently grinding his bulge against Hongjoong's hand that's toying with you.

"It tastes like you, I missed you," you admit plainly, which earns a smirk from him as he looks down at the way your hips grind subconsciously.

"Poor Omega," Hongjoong purrs from behind you, "you're soaking my hand, this all for us?" You whine a 'yes' as his hand leaves your heat, watching closely with wide eyes as he brings his dripping fingers to the older alphas mouth.

He takes the offering, eagerly. Licking and slurping your essence from every bit of his hand, moaning all the while you continue to watch and grind.

"Please, Alpha," you cry, claws slicing his shirt as you clings to him and pull him closer. He either ignores or doesn't notice your pleas until you whimper, "mate."

His tongue pauses, as does the fingers prodding at it. Both of them are on the same wavelength, working wordlessly in tandem. Seonghwa lifts you by your waist, allowing Hongjoong to easily swoop you up into a bridal hold.

He looks down at you as he carries you quickly to the room, smiling almost wholesomely. "What a pretty mate Selene gave us~."

He lowers you into the mess of clothes on the bed, the nest you'd fixed up between fits of unconsciousness. The sound of fabric slicing makes you jump, and you notice then that Seonghwa has ripped your clothes from top to bottom in one single swipe. They work together to completely rid you of your clothes, one lifting while the other pulls away the torn fabric that offends them by shielding your body. Like they've done this a million times before, they work in fluid unison. And you simply let them, watching and admiring.

You whine once more as Seonghwa stands, beckoning him to come back. "Shhh," Hongjoong shushes you gently, lowering himself to lay next to you. He drapes a leg around yours, prying your legs further open. "Don't you worry, Dolly," he leaves soft kisses all over the side of your neck — his side, he thinks. He laps over the healing mark he's left while his hand finds your wetness once again. "Your mates will take good care of you."

With no resistance at all, two of his fingers find their way inside of you, curling right up on that spongey spot that makes you gasp as stars fill your vision. "Hongjoong!" You let out his name in a shaking howl as he keeps his fingers pressing against that beautiful bundle of nerves, slowly harder and harder and- "fuck!" You cry as a wave of pleasure crashes into you.

You barely hear Seonghwa chuckle over your own panting and whining, Hongjoong similarly letting out a soft laugh as he wraps his free arm around your shoulders.

You blink your blurry eyes, letting the blondes face come into focus above you. "Feeling better already, 'Mega?"

"M-more," you whisper needily, humping down on his fingers with reckless abandon.

"Don't you worry, gorgeous," Seonghwa comes into your view from the other side of the bed, making the mattress dip and drive you further onto the fingers that scissor inside of you. "We'll give you more, give you everything you need. You want a knot, hm?"

He coos darkly as you nod desperately, eyes widening as you take in his naked figure, "knot, yes! Yes, yes, please!"

"You want two knots?" Hongjoong muses, slipping another finger into your core with close to zero effort, making you arch your back to try and suck him deeper.

"Need them! I need you!" Your words are jumbled and fast, but they latch onto every syllable and commit them to memory.

"Hmm~" Seonghwa blinks at you with his red eyes burning into your soul, and you don't look away. "Can a little Omega like you take a rutting Alphas knot?" His words are teasing, but make you pout all the same.

Hongjoong is giggling like he's watching a comedy, like he's not bringing you ever closer to another orgasm, as you babble and beg. "I can! I can! Please, Seonghwa!"

"I might break you-"

"Oh, do it! Please!"

He trails his claws across your cheek with an adoring glint in his eyes before he speaks, "how can I say no to that?"

With the promise of his knot, you let your pleasure crest once more, digging your own claws into the fabric below you as you mewl loudly.

You distantly feel Hongjoong withdraw, a soft grumble of protest leaving you as his body warmth disappears. It's quickly replaced by Seonghwa's as he climbs ontop of you. A soft tap on your cheek makes you realize you've closed your eyes, and you peek them open to face him.

"This is your last chance to back out, Starlight," the new nickname makes your head spin and your heart flutter. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes flicking between red and brown. "Once I'm inside of you, my wolf won't let me stop."

Hongjoong climbs back onto the bed with his clothes discarded, settling himself behind your head. He gently pets Seonghwa's messy hair back, gazing between the two of you.

"I need-" You stop yourself when your wolf corrects you, "I want you." You peek to the other alpha, "both of you. I have to have you."

"And have us you will," Hongjoong leans and kisses Seonghwa, making the man lurch forward to kiss him back passionately. You moan softly as you watch them, finding yourself clenching around nothing. "Elders first," he pulls back with a teasing quip, tracing down his neck to the years old mark, "unless you want me to-"

"I will throw you out the window," Seonghwa deadpans.

"Fair enough," Hongjoong chuckles before leaning back to give him space. Even he knows when to stop poking the proverbial bear. That bear, in this instance, being an alpha in a rut — a first born, at that. He may be his mate, but so are you, and he knows his wolf is fighting tooth and claw to knot with the pretty omega that bares his mark; because his wolf is too.

"C'mere," Seonghwa growls deeply, yanking you to the middle of the bed by your hips and making you yelp in surprise. "You're gonna be a good mate, take it all?" You nod quickly, desperately, wiggling your hips.

He groans as he has to lean down to rub his tip against your weeping heat, eyes flicking as his wolf howls for a better position. He has to stop himself from moving too quickly, claws still out and proud. He tenderly grabs the back of your thighs before ruthlessly folding you in half and bringing your hips up to what he deems an acceptable level.

You let out a fleeting gasp, quickly replaced by a sigh of relief as he pops his tip into your awaiting hole.

"Hold her," he orders as his eyes trace every inches of your body.

Hongjoong quickly complies, warm hands squishing down on the back of your thighs with a purr. He watches with eyes taken over by black as Seonghwa inches his hips forward; cherishing and savoring every slow moment as he fills you with a snaillike pace.

     You're sure you'll explode from the pure euphoria that races through your body as he stretches your walls, making you moan and whine and flutter around him.

      As his hips finally still, a deep rumbling sound comes from the depths of his chest.

    You, in all of your pleasure filled delirium, don't notice it as you pant and moan, sucking in sharp breaths as you feel your core molding itself to fit him perfectly.

     Hongjoong, however, has his ears tuned in to pick up on any little noise either of you make; so he lifts his head from its place in the crook of your neck to be sure he isn't hearing thing that aren't there.

    You let out a soft whine as his body warmth leaves its place by your side, and similarly look up to the eldest alpha.

    You blink up at him and tilt your head; and another deep rumble comes from the man.

    "Baby," Hongjoong glances at Seonghwa's blissed out face, his eyes sparkling, "you're purring?"

    He says it almost like a question, but it's most certainly a statement. The sound is weak and clumsy, but it's undeniably purring.

    "Shut up," Seonghwa growls between his teeth, breathing heavily. He places his clawed hands over Hongjoong's, pressing your legs to your chest rougher. He closes his eyes and nuzzles his head against your calf, another purr leaving his inked neck.

    "Seonghwa?" You whisper, making his eyes snap open.

He looks completely enraptured, like he's almost forgotten where he is, as he rakes his eyes over you once again.

"I was right, I should have done this a long time ago."

"Wha- oh fuck!" You shriek as he suddenly and without warning begins to pound into you. Your feet sway and bounce, your back arches off the bed, your jaw pried open with embarrassingly loud sounds of carnality. You bring both of your hands to your mouth to dull your noises, the heat on your face now burning all the way to your ears as the realization dawns on you that all the members of the pack might very well be woken up by the sound of the alphas ravishing your insides.

     The both of them growl, Seonghwa much louder than Hongjoong; who moves to grab your wrists.

     He pauses his rhythm to lean over your folded up figure, slotting himself under your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, as Hongjoong pins your hands above your head. "Don't you try and hide from us," he groans deeply, sniffing at your neck. "Aww, she's embarrassed," he looks down at you while chuckling darkly, "don't be embarrassed, Love."

    Your jaw drops as he starts his movements again, this time slow and intentional. "They all know you're in heat," he hums into your jaw before giving it a teasing lick. He leans up to gaze down at you, nails digging into your skin as he holds himself back.

    "And they all know we're fucking~" Hongjoong adds with a smirk as he traces one of his hands all the way down your body, "might as well let them know how well we do it, right, Alpha?" He meets eyes with Seonghwa, and the onslaught of pleasure returns ten fold.

     Seonghwa is pumping into you ruthlessly, the sound of wetness and skin on skin echoing with your wails of elation. Hongjoongs nimble fingers play with your clit like he's an expert on your body. And all you can do is writhe and moan; trapped beneath them in a whirlpool of lust.

    "Please, please, please," is the only word in your vocabulary until, "Alpha!"

You howl as the tension inside of you snaps and releases a gushing wave of slick onto the alphas' pelvis and hand. The heat is like you've been filled with a million blinking stars, unlike anything you've ever felt before.

    The blinding pleasure knocks you out of control and has your omega taking over, and you don't even realize the words that come from your own lips. "Knot me! Please! Oh, please, Alpha! I want your pups!"

     Your pleading sobs have Hongjoongs neglected member twitching and leaking, standing at full attention while he watches his mates fuck like a pair of rabbits.

     They have a similar effect on Seonghwa, whose wolf begs him to do as you ask. He manages to tear his eyes away from your fucked-out face and towards his other precious mate. "Fuck," he growls under his breath. He gives you one last good slam before withdrawing from you, making you sob.

     "No, no! Please, Seonghwa! Akma!" It takes all of his years of training his wolf not to bust out and knot your perfect body as you cry his name.

    You fidget and grind your hips in an attempt to get him back, but it's futile. "Shhh," he coos, clawed hand cradling your cheek and pushing it gently so you face the other alpha, "you'll get both of our knots by the end of this heat, I promise, Darling. But look at our Joongie, he needs some loving, huh?"

    You focus your eyes on the younger alpha, eyes flicking everywhere around his body with pure adoration until they land on his member. It's leaking on his stomach, rising and falling with his heavy breaths as he controls himself. "Uh-huh," you agree with Seonghwa with a half-there answer, licking your lips subconsciously.

      He moves away from you, letting your legs unfold from your body. "Have at her, Baby," he smirks as he hears his boy dive into you and begins kissing you sloppily. And then he settles himself with his back on the headboard to watch, fisting his own member slowly to keep his wolf appeased.

    Hongjoong is half on top of you, forcing his tongue into your awaiting mouth as his hands fondle your breasts with a mind of their own. His hips, similarly, move to grind his cock against your leg without his knowledge. Now that Seonghwa has given him permission, the lower ranking alpha is buzzing with excitement and anticipation, slowly sinking deeper and deeper into his wolf's control.

     You gasp and pant as he finally pulls away, his lips finding purpose in sucking little marks into your neck and shoulders that soon resemble a galaxy with how many he's leaving in his wake. "Joongie, please mate me," the soft pleading moan with his nickname makes him freeze.

    "Present for me." He blurts with a newfound obsession in his mind. "Will you do that for me, Dolly?"

    You blink. Once, twice. As you think. Presenting to a mate, especially to your alpha, is a big deal... Putting yourself in a completely vulnerable position and saying with that action that you trusted the other wolf to take care of you fully. Not just sexually, while of course that was part of it, but in every sense of the word. It's a vulnerable position, and putting yourself in that position says you put yourself fully in the others hands.

    They watch with bated breath as your mind moves a million miles an hour. Seonghwa knocks his foot against your arm, "you don't have to if you aren't ready, Gorgeous."

      Hongjoong nearly jumps out of his skin when you move under him, and he backs up to give you room, not wanting to spook you into stopping. 

       You turn yourself over, gazing up at Seonghwa as you settle yourself between his legs. You rest your head on his hip and close your eyes blissfully as you move to kneel. Your shoulders rest lower on his legs, slumping yourself with nothing but your bottom in the air. Then you move your hands behind your back, wrists crossed and ready to be held.

     "Knot me, Alpha," you whisper lustfully.

    Seonghwa is almost jealous that he didn't think to ask you to present first — be he knows he'll get his chance. Their poor little Omega, on blockers for so long and suddenly having it out made your heat bad enough. And then heat sickness multiplied it by a hundred. He'd be surprised if you allow them to leave the bed at all for at least two weeks. Really, he has to commend your willpower.

     But right now, he can only admire how beautiful you are, especially as you submit to his mate fully.

    Said mate is nearly bouncing off the walls, chest puffed out pridefully as he savors every second that he looks at you. Art truly imitates life, he thinks as he finds himself wishing that he could capture this moment in a sculpture, in a painting, even a measly photograph would suffice.

   He feels a pang in his gut and growls loudly, eyes stuck in a pure black void as he comes up behind you. His wolf is clawing at the walls of his enclosure, and he doesn't have the strength to fight him anymore. He lets the beast take control of his body.

      He's speared you open on his member before you even register that he's behind you, uncontrollable moans spilling past your lips and pilling up on Seonghwa's hip in the form of drool. When Hongjoongs clawed hands encase your wrists tenderly, you're a goner.

     Over your own babbles of ecstasy and mindless profanity, you don't take in the words he's saying. You can tell he's being just as talkative as you, praises upon praises purred toward you as he uses his grip on your arms to pull you back into his frantic thrusts.

    What finally makes you and your wolf listen is his deep rumble, followed by dark chuckle. "Oh, oh fuck~ Our pretty puppy sent me into an early rut," he mewls, eyes looking back into his head as your heat burns so pleasantly around his previously neglected member. 

      If it's the pet name or the words along with it, you can't tell, but you shake with an unexpected and sudden orgasm, soaking his legs and dripping on the sheets as you wail.

     "Oh you like that?" Seonghwa chirps, petting your sweaty hair away from your face, "little puppy likes being told how good she is for her Alphas?"

    You nod frantically, huffing and puffing to catch your breath as Hongjoong and his relentless wolf refuse to give you even a brief respite. Though your pussy feels like it can't take anymore pleasure, your omega brain knows it can and will. You can feel your heartbeat in your clit, and Hongjoong can feel it pulsing around him.

     He drops your hands and you let them fall boneless, allowing the wolf you presented yourself to do as he pleases. His claws find a home on your hips, just barely scratching you as he holds you in place to repeatedly stuff you to your limit. "Fuck," he begins growing and purring nonstop, switching between the two as pleasure completely clouds his mind.

     Seonghwa laces his fingers into yours, holding your hands tightly as you get your insides reshaped. You're mouthing and nipping at his hip, your eyes —when not screwed shut from the overwhelming pressure building in you once more— are glazed over and glowing. Not that barely there glow of an omega. No, not like that at all. They burn bright and blink like the stars that Selene handcrafted. Starlight begins to fit you more and more, he thinks with a grin.

"Look at you, Starlight," his praises continue, "taking a big bad alphas rutting cock." The words make your face burn hotter, how is it even possible? He knows his dirty talk has heavy effects on you, almost as much effects as Hongjoong dragging and knocking against that spongey spot inside of you that he found earlier. With every. Single. Thrust.

"You're gonna make me pop a knot early, Dolly," the blonde chimes in as well, making your cunt twitch in anticipation. He bends down and kisses across the scars on your back, purring something softer that makes your heart thrum with something different, "our Omega is such a warrior."

With those gentle words of admiration spoken while he has you in such a dominated position, you feel a burst of emotion blooming in your chest; making you cry out.

They feel it too, you realize as Hongjoongs hips stutter and Seonghwa's eyes grow soft with love.

You've finally let them in completely...

Mind, body, soul, and wolf.

You feel like a piece of thread, being woven in with them. You can feel their emotions, their intentions of protecting and providing for you. You feel the deep possessiveness they hold in their hearts for you. And you feel their power rushing through your veins.

All of these things, all at once.

Hongjoong wraps his arms around your chest from behind, staying deep inside of you; but you can barely feel it because something is deeper than that — the feeling of your souls being tied together, bound by the moon that shines in through the window, shining with pride at its job well done bringing you to your alphas. Bringing you to your fated pack. It shimmers, bathing you and your mates in its ethereal light. You finally feel something you've never felt before.

You felt like you were home.

Not a place, or a pillow to rest your head on at night. No, that's not home.

Home is the scent of happy wolves mingling in the living room. Home is serving each other at dinner. It's Cheonsa's warm aura, Lia and Jonghos chubby cheeks making their eyes wrinkle when they smile. Home is Wooyoungs humorous cackle, and San's watchful eye. Home feels like the softness in Yeosangs eyes as he takes his members pain. Home is like the fierceness with which Yunho snapped into action to protect the pack when he heard you cry. Home is the pack taking care of you after only a few days of knowing you.

Above all, though... Home is Seonghwa and Hongjoong. The smell of smoke lingering with the eldest alphas signature salted carmel. Roasted hazelnut coming so strongly off of the younger than you can almost taste it. The two of them mixing together to create a sweet scent that you want to drown in.

    It's Seonghwa's fierce possessive nature, and the small smile he has when you interact with his hand-picked pack. 

    It's Hongjoongs ever present manic glee and giggles, the way he tries so hard to make you feel at home.

It's the feeling of their claws caressing you with care, holding themselves back so as not to harm you. The weight of Hongjoong on your back, protecting your body as you're far off in your own head. The reassuring squeeze Seonghwa gives your hands and the smile tugging at his lips as he feels your bond being completed. The way they give you time to process all of this, and so much more. Their patience with you even as their wolves howl incessantly.

     Seeing you come back to yourself, Seonghwa slowly stops the soft pets he gave your head and smiles, "welcome home, Starlight."

    Hongjoong peeks at you from behind, a smile gleaming in the moonlight. Pride overflowing from his very being at the fact that he got your last wall down and helped to complete the bond.

    You have a smile of your own gracing your features as you look from Hongjoong back to Seonghwa, finally answering his question from days ago.

     "I can feel you."

˚➶ ｡˚ ALLURE ˚➶ ｡˚

˚➶ ｡˚ EPILOGUE ˚➶ ｡˚

      The kitchen and dining room is as lively as ever as Seonghwa carries you down from the third floor for the first time in three weeks. Everyone moves to work together seamlessly and set the table, the record player in the living turned up loud. "Hey, guys," he greets as you enter, "look who's back in business."

     Everyone pauses. But it's not like before. It's not awkward or tense. Everyone has a smile on their face as they see you for the first time in almost a month.

   Compared to last time they saw you, you were positively glowing. Not a trace of pain or anxiety on your face. Your scent didn't burn anyone's noses, instead it wafted gently and calmed them- much like the other pack omegas did.

    "Hey," you smile sheepishly, looking down at the table as Seonghwa sits you down.

     "Ah, praise Selene!" Cheonsa yelled with a laugh as she tackled you from the side in a hug.

    Lia came up on the other side of you, similarly embracing you, "we thought you'd never come down! We were stuck with these guys again it was horrible!"

     "Hey!" Wooyoung yelled offendedly before throwing you a smile as he handed you a full plate.

    "Thank you," you smiled kindly, one hand on each of the women's arms as they refused to let go of you.

    "C'mon, let the girl eat," Yunho swatted them away with the newspaper he held, shooting you a lopsided smile of his own.

   Everyone settles in their seats, and peace overcomes you at the table with the members that you can feel through your minds.

    Hongjoong comes bouncing down the stairs with a pep in his step, towel around his neck to catch the droplets of water that slide off his hair. "You left without me!"

     "The food smelled too good, I couldn't wait anymore!" You argue, pouting as you sip some juice.

      Seonghwa hides his prideful grin by taking a bite of his own. Not even a month ago, you couldn't smell the food from your bedroom no matter how hard you tried, and today it was what finally lured you out of the nest you've made of their bed.

     "Aw, how could I stay mad at that face?" He coos, cupping your jaw to kiss you passionately.

      "Zero tact," Mingi whispers to Yeosang, who nods.

    Hongjoong pulls back with his eyebrows pushed together, "that is not a word!"

...

     Minutes later, Jongho is leaned over a dictionary, and everyone crowded around him, some having placed bets.

     "Oh there it is!" San shouts, "it is a word!"

   "Tact: to talk or act carefully so as not to offend or disturb others," Lia reads with a chuckle.

     "Damn," Wooyoung slumps, digging in his pocket and slapping down a five dollar bill into Yunhos awaiting palm.

    "Told you," Mingi quips with a roll of his eyes, "Hongjoong has zero."

    "You little brat!" A chase ensues around the kitchen, joyous laughter filling the room.

   You rest your chin on your hand and watch fondly. You see Seonghwa do the same out of the corner of your eye, watching your mate chase the other omega around the table full of smiling faces.

   Yeah. You think. This is home.

˚➶ ｡˚ THANK YOU FOR READING ˚➶ ｡˚

[diejager]

Please!!! I need more of Beta Reader x Poly 141 please!!!

Or maybe an Omega went feral of an alpha who try to do something to her and she went FERAL???

Cw: pack dynamic, Beta!reader, fluff, tell me if I missed any.

You groaned beside Gaz, walking into a crowded room with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. It smelled of rut and aggression, adrenaline laced high and drunken thrill pumping through the pulsing veins of alphas who called this bar home. It was a pungent smell, nose clogging and headache inducing to your sensitive sense. Perhaps you should have wore a blocker like the three others did, betas often had no use to one since their - and by extension yours - noses weren’t as keen or sensitive as the others secondary sexes. Betas couldn’t scent any amount of pheromone or musk, but you were the unfortunate one born with a rare disability —or so most betas considered a disability that negated their clear-minded conscience.

Logic over emotions, the mind presided over the heart of betas. It was what made them essential in a population where the leading figures had moments of hyperactivity and extreme emotional imbalance. Gaz didn’t have any issue following his expectations, cool-minded, gentle and caring, and emotionally dependable. There were such a drastic difference between him and you, grumpy, emotional and suffering from a perpetual scent-inducing headache. He could stay level-headed in all and any situation, but you caved to anger and irritation if the smells became too much. 

He was an examplary beta, yet he always praised you ad encouraged you to join them, a warm palm on your back, or a firm grip on your shoulder, Gaz was a steady rock you learned to lean onto. He was less volatile than Ghost and Price and less excitable than Soap. It almost made you loathe how comfortable he was with everyone while you still stuck out like a sore thumb after months under their care. 

And it didn’t help that Soap had managed to convince you - coerced, you mumbled - to come drink with them. The bar was packed, filled to the brim with alphas, omegas and betas, most patched with blockers over their noses, but their scent glands still stank under the thick, patchy blockers on their necks and shoulders. Price led you to their designated booth, seemingly promised to them by a higher power. They sat and chatted, boisterous words shared between Gaz and Soap while Ghost loomed over the table to your right, taking the seat at the edge in guardianship. They soaked in the comfortable familiarity: the warm lights and brick walls of the pub, the low music and loud chatter and clatter of glass. 

It was all something that would usually make someone relax and calm or happy, but it only made you squirm in your seat, occasionally bumping into Ghost to your right and Soap to your left, squeezed between two big men that smelled so strongly. It made you slightly nauseous, enough to feel a pang at the back of your head, but keep you conscious. You sighed a fourth time, shifting once more, when Ghost placed his hand on your thigh, his palm so big and hot grounding you and keeping you still to his wandering and worried eyes. 

“You all right?” The rumble of his voice had lowered to an accommodating tone, considerate of your growing aches, “Do you need a moment?”

You shook your head, mumbling a soft ‘no, thank you’, reassuring his worry and nodding to the table where Price just arrived with drinks in hand. Ghost reached for both his and your drinks, leaning into you and bathing you in his scent, the woody musk coating you in a soft layer of comfort. You were truly fortunate that their scents were the least irritating you’ve ever encountered, soft and comfortable compared to the grating and annoying musk of other teams you’ve worked with. 

Thanking Ghost for the drink and flushing lightly after Soap had leaned over and pressed his nose to yours, smiling cheekily at Ghost, you hypothesised that perhaps you could end up liking such outing and spending more times surrounding by them.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[teencopandthesourwolf]

read on ao3 HERE

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He didn't mean to do it. He meant it, with every fucked-up fibre of his being he meant it, but he didn't mean to actually do it. 

Stiles had just—been so very fucking Stiles, in that stupid and irresponsible jump-head-first-into-the fray-on-everybody-else's-behalf kind of way that he has about him, and after the pack had neutralised the danger but everybody's veins still had more adrenaline than blood coursing though them, Derek felt—feels—so fucking livid and so damn grateful and so utterly, utterly muddled that he's grabbed Stiles by the shoulders and is pulling the kid's body into his own, hard, crashing their torsos together like a devastating highway collision with his arms enveloping Stiles's shoulders as a crushed car bonnet wraps itself around a tree. 

Now—at a clearing in the trees on what has been Hale land for generations going back centuries, with Stiles in his space and his nostrils and in his fucking head—Derek is terrified. 

There's a fairly stilted, “Whoa, okay, alright. We're doing this, huh, big guy?” But then Stiles is relaxing into the hug. He sort of melts, actually, snaking long and wiry yet surprisingly strong arms around Derek's waist; so very warm and alive, alive, alive.

“Stiles, you shouldn't have—why do you always have to—you could've fucking died!” he admonishes, although it doesn't come out half as harshly as he means and wants it to. 

Lost, Derek shoves his nose into Stiles's neck and breathes.

Stiles lets him—because of course he does—cocking his head to the side to accommodate Derek's needs.

“Must be a day that ends in Y, huh, Der?” he answers, ever the class clown.

Derek quietly growls his annoyance and relief in equal measure, and even though he senses the rest of the pack has now gathered around them, and hating that he has an audience for this, he squeezes Stiles into him impossibly more.

Stiles wheezes comically then jokes some more, because humour is his default in any situation. “Hey, why don't you ease up a bit there, buddy? Kinda need this work of art that I call a body to stay in one piece if I'm ever gonna save your wolfy-ass again, oh Alpha, my Alpha.”

Derek promptly shuts him up with a slick lick to the jugular before he's really had a chance to think about what he's doing. Surprisingly, the kid shivers beautifully. But even Derek's tongue doesn't keep him quiet for very long. Only Stiles Stilinski could ramble incessantly with a werewolf at his throat.

“Okay, shit, alright, that—ahhhhhhh, that tickles, Fido! Heh, does this mean I'm gonna have to get the collar and chain on y—oh my fucking god!”

Derek clamps his jaws around the most exquisite throat he's ever seen, smelled, dreamed about, and growls out a warning sound that causes the betas to back off and Stiles to go weak at the knees.

Mine, he thinks loudly with a growl.

After a few delicious moments of Derek gnawing on Stiles's tasty throat, and once they're alone in the preserve other than the nocturnal animals and eery sound of the wind picking up from the west, Derek releases his jaws' hold on the sheriff's boy—the boy who runs with wolves; little red riding hoodie; the best human Derek's ever known—and soothes the purpling mark with a lingering press of his lips.

“Oh,” is amazingly all Stiles has got to say. Derek can satisfyingly smell Stiles's arousal, though, his wolf now howling inside of him at the heady scent.

“Yeah, oh,” he answers waggishly after trying his level best to calm the feral instinct he has to pull them both down into the undergrowth and mate the boy, here and now.

He finally manages to pull himself away from Stiles but doesn't release him from his grip entirely.

Fire-red irises find big, brown doe eyes and a smirk that Derek wants to lick right off Stiles's face to replace with a look of pure ecstasy.

“Stop doing stupid things,” he demands.

Begs. 

“Yeah, no, probably never gonna—oomph!” 

Derek kisses Stiles. Kisses him like it's the end of the fucking world, because he's realised that every time Stiles puts his own life in danger, it feels like it might be.

Wildly, Stiles doesn't hesitate this time. He kisses Derek right back, like he gets it.

Now found, Derek takes and he takes and he takes.

Stiles kisses like nobody else in existence, Derek is sure of it. He is earth and wind, fire and water.

Fucking elemental. 

When presumably Stiles needs to breathe, he tears his lips away from Derek's—now swollen and blood-red—and Derek can't help the whine that escapes his. Their foreheads bump as they both pant, attempting to settle as they shake with waning post-fight nerves and a near-feverish desire.

Stiles bargains, “How ‘bout if you keep doing that, I'll get myself a bigger bat?”

Derek both hates and loves the smile that spreads across his face like a rash, entirely of its own volition. 

“How about next time, you just wait for me?” 

“Deal,” Stiles grins and kisses Derek again—and Derek hopes it's the kind of deal that's forever.

.

for @greyhavenisback—love yew, love <3 (unedited, soz!)

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now edited and on ao3 HERE

[ace-marvel]

Ananchronism

Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Synopsis: The world has evolved beyond needing designations and sub-genders, alphas no longer seek out omegas, scents are a thing of the pass while heats and ruts are a rarity. You're an omega who relies on scents and still gets heat, an abnormality in this modern world. Only you find solace in a man lost to time.

Word Count: 9k

Based of a prompt/idea by @black-cat-2

(A/N: This is set in a time where everything goes back to complete normal after they defeat Thanos, Nat comes back and Steve doesn't leave. I will also warn that Bucky has some old time views on relationships, we are talking 40's stereotype stuff after all.)

Ananchronism: used to describe a historical inaccuracy where something from one time period is placed in another.

You had never been normal. 

In this day and age, sub-genders were nothing more than an additional label that went on your driver's license or something to be noted by an employer. You had presented as an omega when you’d hit puberty, like all the other people your age. It was a blood test done by the doctors to check, each sub-gender produced a certain enzyme that was checked when a woman got their first period and or a man started to grow hair on his chest. 

Your results had been odd, your early teenaged years spent in and out of doctor’s offices as they poked and prodded with needles and endless tests to find out why your levels had been so strange. It was something more commonly seen in the early 1900s when sub-genders had been such a big deal. 

“She’s a genetic anomaly,” A doctor had finally chalked it up, after looking at your records when you were fifteen. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your mother was an alpha, which meant that she took charge, a stubborn and proud lady in her own right. 

“Look, it’s a rare thing we’re seeing in very cases,” The old doctor huffed out. “Her sub-gender appears to not be suppressed, like evolution skipped her for whatever reason it decided to.” 

That was the end of the poking and prodding. 

You just weren’t normal. 

A genetic anomaly. 

Adjusting was horrid for your family, from the need to steal all the soft blankets, much to your mother’s dismay or your father’s disappointment, when you needed to skip school again because you had fevers and cramps from an ancient thing called a heat. After a year of missing almost two months of school, the doctor had put you on suppressants. 

Things still didn’t get better from there. 

Society was rough. 

Equality meant you had to work, despite everything in your brain and body screaming at you not to. You shouldn’t be standing on your feet for hours on end at the coffee shop you worked part-time at as a teenager, you shouldn’t have to get up at ungodly hours to study for tests and sit in a room full of people that seemed like dead bodies. 

You were sensitive, soft, and not made for this time. 

Becoming an adult was hard; moving out of home had you in tears, and finally diagnosed with depression. But you had to trudge on in this harsh world, alone. 

The only saving grace had been a woman who owned a bakery down the street, who had hired you after you’d come in one day craving something sweet before your heat decided to strike. 

It turned out that Elise was like you, a genetic anomaly. She wasn’t an olden day omega like you were, but she had heightened senses and strangely strong despite her small stature. You’d seen her lift three massive bags of flour like she’d been carrying a little pillow. 

“You look exhausted hun, have a seat for a little bit,” Elise had called from where she was punching a bowl of dough, flour smeared on her face as she smiled. 

“That would make me lazy..,” You mumbled under your breath, despite your whole body screaming at you to stop, “I’ll go clean a little..,” 

Elise didn’t argue, you always pushed your own limits even if your whole body screamed at you day in and day out. Grabbing the cloth and spray, you made your way over to the tables and began to wipe them down as the shop door opened. 

Usually the smell of cupcakes, baked bread and sweet treats covered up the many unpleasant smells of the people around you, but something stuck out today. It was a musky scent, mixed with pine and the odd edge of something cold, like ice. You could always tell what someone’s sub-gender was based on smell alone, you avoided alphas at all costs because that was what felt right to you. 

But this scent was so strong it made your stomach drop, hands suddenly holding onto the table as you took in the smell. It smelt right, so delicious and soothing that it called to something deep in your chest and awakened your every instinct. You wanted to be surrounded by it, pulled into its embrace and just left to soak in who ever the hell this person was 

You finally managed to turn around on wobbly legs, your throat dry as you looked at the people who had walked in. Steve and Sam were regulars; hell, the whole Avengers and their superhero companions were. You were close to the tower after all, when they needed to stay in the city, they always dropped by the bakery to stock up on the baked goods. Elise had tried to push you towards Steve at one time, but you’d avoided the super soldier and he was just as awkward about your boss and best friend’s strange match making habits. 

But there was a third person with them today, he was bigger than Steve but held an aura that was distinctly alpha about him. The way your hair stood on end made you just know, he was an alpha in every sense of the word. 

He had the most stunning blue eyes, dark locks pulled under a cap and a red henley covering most of his body. His beard was short but neat, no doubt hiding a strong jaw line. But the thing that stood out was the black and gold metal arm on his left side, as he kept his arms holded over his chest. 

And he was staring straight at you, eyes blown wide and nostrils flaring slightly. 

“Hun, you okay?” Elise spoke as she turned around the counter, walking to your side, “You’re a bit flushed,” 

Elise’s hand touched your forehead and the coldness made you whimper, the noise coming out strangled before she flinched backwards and frowned. There was a slight scuffle from the other side of the room, only your ears were ringing and everything was becoming fuzzy. 

“You’re burning up,” Elise tutted, “I’ll call a cab, you get yourself home,” 

– 

Bucky found dating hard. 

He wasn’t built for this century, something that Steve shared his sympathy with but he had at the very least found an omega for himself. In his day, dating was for marriage and nowadays it seemed to be for a quick fuck to get your rocks off. Bucky was considered a playboy in the 40s, he’d dated a few omegas and maybe helped a few during their heats, but he’d always been motivated to take care of someone, provide for them, and give them anything they wanted. 

A lot had changed in all his years as Hydra’s perfect soldier. 

The serum amplified everything. Steve had the same issues sometimes, too. Bucky was already considered a strong alpha in his time with high instincts, but it had only gotten worse since they’d pumped him full of that blue serum. His ruts came more often, Hydra had either pumped him full of suppressants or thrown a random woman for him to take the edge off with. He was more aggressive and more protective. 

Omegas didn’t need knots anymore, they didn’t pick up on scents or could tell when his own turned sour when they threw themselves at him. Bucky wasn’t a fan of the fake lips or fake tits, he wanted something natural. 

Someone natural to him. 

“She ran away from you?” Sam asked as Bucky sat awkwardly in the backseat of Steve’s car, grumbling to himself, “Damn,” 

“I scared her, okay?” Bucky stated, not wanting to think of his latest, horrible date, “That’s all,” 

“You’ll find someone who's not scared, okay?” Steve spoke up, “It’ll take a while,” 

Maybe if he didn’t die of blue balls first. 

Steve pulled up next to a little shop and Bucky looked out the window, confused. They were supposed to be going back to the tower, yet Sam and Steve had raved on about some bakery that they had to stop at or both Thor and Nat would have their heads. 

“It doesn’t look special,” Bucky remarked as he climbed out of the car, stretching his legs and groaning. 

Some how Sam always got the front seat to the car, despite Bucky being almost twice his size. 

“I’m telling you, man, this place is magical or something,” Sam went on as they walked to the front door, “We all come here whenever we’re in the city or do an order to get delivered out to us, the food is amazing,” 

Bucky was still learning to appreciate food, he’d spent so long only eating for survival, he forgot how to enjoy it. 

The bakery smelt like a bakery, bread and a slight sweetness to the air. Only all those scents seemed to fade away when he stepped inside behind Steve and Sam, his head whipping to a woman who was wiping down the wooden tables. 

A distinct smell of plums and sugar filled his senses, mixed with a slight edge of something warm that he couldn’t but his finger on. This scent was so homey and delicious, it made his mouth water and something twist in his chest, a low rumble he hadn’t felt in almost a century awakening to life. 

This woman finally turned around and it clicked in Bucky’s head and chest, he knew exactly what you were to him. The feeling had been told to him time and time again by his parents, his sister when she’d met her mate and his old army buddies. 

You were his mate. 

But an edge hit the scent and it almost made Bucky drop to his knees, the sweetness of an incoming omega heat, of his omega’s heat. Steve seemed to shift too, looking at you before he looked at Bucky as he heard the growl that left the man’s chest. 

“Buck?” 

Then there was the noise, that little noise that seemed to shoot through his ears and bounce around his brain. It was a cry for help and he needed to respond to it, surging forward only for Steve and Sam to both grab him. 

“Bucky! Calm down!” Steve yelled out as they barely managed to wrestle him out the door and tackle him into the concrete footpath of New York City. 

The fresh air seemed to jolt him back to reality, pushing both the men off himself as Steve held his hands out, waiting to be attacked. 

“You good?” Sam questioned, panting, “Man, you super soldiers need to calm the fuck down sometimes,” 

“Buck, you growled,” Steve questioned, “What was that?” 

“Her..,” Bucky barely managed to grunt out. “It’s her, Steve,” 

The blonde super solider look back at the bakery before looking at his best friend, bewildered. Bucky stood up, smoothing a hand through his hair before he suddenly the punched the concrete wall beside them. The surge of alpha hormones pumping in his blood was putting him on edge. 

“Can we not destroy public property?!” Sam yelled. 

– 

You had spent a whole seven days in heat, which hadn’t been supposed to come for another month before it had suddenly triggered in the bakery that day. You had no idea who the man with Steve and Sam was, all you knew was that he’d triggered some primal urge in you. 

Never had a scent triggered you into a heat. You didn’t even know that it was possible, everyone always smelt so off-putting that it almost had you gag when an alpha stood to close. Sometimes omegas, like Elise, were pleasant enough to withstand, but alphas were usually disgusting. The one and only boyfriend you’d ever had was an omega. 

 Returning the day after your heat had your body groaning protest, the cramps still slightly there as you walked into the back door of the bakery. Elise had opened, you usually took the late shift since you loved to sleep in especially more now that winter would be approaching soon. 

“You didn’t have to come back so soon,” Elise spoke as she pulled a tray of muffins from the oven, “Jordy is happy for the extra shifts.” 

Jordy was a casual employee for the bakery. She was studying at college and usually helped out whenever exams weren’t drilling her into the ground. 

“I’ll be fine,” You smiled small as you placed your bag in the office before walking to the front of the bakery. 

That smell hit you again and you almost buckled to the floor. The strangely cold scent of musk and pine filled the air, hands shaking as you turned towards the person who had just walked through the door. 

He had cleaned up a little bit, his beard looked a little bit neater and he wasn’t wearing a cap today. Instead, he was in a plain black jacket and jeans, gloves on his hands. The gloves made you frown slightly, you had briefly remember him having a metal arm or was that some heat induced delusion? 

“H-hi,” His voice cracked as he stepped up to the counter, “Uh..,” 

“C-can I get something f-for you?” You stuttered out, gripping the edge of the counter until your knuckles turned white. 

Everything was screaming at you to climb over the stupid wooden bench and throw yourself at this man. 

“These are for you.” 

His words came out rushed as he thrust a bouquet in your direction, the white orchids making your heart swell as you gently accepted them. No one had bought you flowers before, not that your dating history was rich with excitement and gifts from suitors. 

You’d only dated one person before, and it had been an absolute train wreck. 

“I’m Bucky.. Or James.., whatever you want to call me,” He cleared his throat, clearly nervous. 

Your name was uttered from your lips in a whispered, holding the flowers close to your chest. Bucky’s face softened, you had accepted the flowers and that was a step in the right direction. Maybe his therapist would finally be happy that he’d done something good with his time. 

“Uh, so do you-” 

His words were cut off by a phone ringing, and you watched as he groaned, pulling his cell phone from his pocket and glaring at the device. The actions almost made you giggle because something was so relaxing about his presence and his scent. Bucky was the first alpha that didn’t make you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. 

“I’m sorry, it’s important,” He sighed. 

Bucky answered the call before basically rushing from the bakery, you watching him run down the street at an unusually fast speed. 

“Finally!” 

You screamed when Elise popped up from the kitchen window, making you jump and almost throw the flowers before you turned to your boss with wide eyes and heart racing fast enough to jump start a car. 

“Poor guy’s been coming to the shop every day, waiting for you.” 

Elise had been right, Bucky had been coming to the bakery almost everyday and he continued to do so. You always thought that the Avengers lived further away from the city, different members appeared in the bakery every so often. But Bucky kept up the appearances and you had settled into a steady rhythm with the alpha. 

Bucky came around lunch time, you shared your break together before he left and then he walked you home. 

The cool evening air wraps around you as Bucky walked beside you, the rhythmic sound of your shoes tapping against the pavement the only noise that fills the quiet night. You’d just finished your shift at the bakery, and even though it’s late, you can’t shake the exhaustion weighing down on your shoulders. Your body aches from the hours on your feet, the constant motion, the endless demands of the customers, the heat of the ovens. You’re drained—completely.

But the thought of leaving work, of stepping away from your responsibilities, has you feeling a little more at ease. The comfort of Bucky’s steady presence beside you is almost as much of a relief as being able to slip out of your apron and leave the chaotic bakery behind. It’s not that you dislike your job, but your omega instincts have always told you something else—that you’re not meant to be working so hard, that there’s more to your life than running yourself ragged in a place that doesn’t feel like home.

“You look like you’re about to collapse,” Bucky says, his voice low but warm, noticing the way you’re dragging your feet just a little bit more than usual. He glances at you with that look in his eyes, one that’s almost protective, like he can see exactly what you need.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, but even you know it’s a lie. Your body is exhausted, your mind too, and you can feel the weight of your designation, the constant pressure to be strong, independent, and capable.

“No, you’re not.” Bucky’s voice is firm, and for a second, it takes you by surprise. He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, instead slipping his arm around your shoulders and gently guiding you forward. “You shouldn’t be working so hard, you know that?”

You glance up at him, unsure of where he’s going with this. “What do you mean? I need to work. I need the money, and—”

“Forget that for a minute,” he interrupts, his voice softer now. “Omegas weren’t meant to be working themselves into the ground. Not like this. Your instincts—your body—they’re not built for it. You’re supposed to be pampered. Protected.”

You blink in confusion. “Pampered?”

Bucky chuckles, the sound rich and warm, like a secret only shared between the two of you. “Yeah. I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, especially with everything being the way it is now. But omegas like you? You’re meant to be taken care of, not pushed to your limits every day.”

You pause, the weight of his words sinking in. For the longest time, you’ve been told that working hard, being self-sufficient, was the way to live. Your parents had drilled it into you, given you no other choice than to support yourself. It’s what you’ve always known. The thought of not working so much, of letting someone else take care of you, feels foreign. It feels wrong, almost.

“But I have to work,” you protest weakly, feeling your tired muscles protesting every word. “I can’t just… sit around and do nothing.”

Bucky’s hand tightens slightly on your shoulder, not in a forceful way, but in a way that grounds you, reminding you that he’s here. “It’s not about doing nothing. You’ve got gifts, things you can do, but your role… it’s to be cherished, not to be constantly worn out. An omega needs rest, care, and someone who’ll give them the space to be soft, to be who they are without the pressure of the world on their shoulders.”

You’re silent for a moment, letting his words settle in. It’s hard to accept, to let go of the mentality that you should be doing more, pushing yourself to be productive and independent. But when you look at him—his warmth, the way he’s always there, steady and unbothered by what the world thinks—you feel the heaviness in your chest begin to ease just a little.

Bucky smiles down at you, his eyes twinkling with a gentle amusement. “You’re not a machine, sweetheart. You don’t have to keep running like this. You need someone who’ll take care of you, spoil you a little. Maybe even pamper you a bit.” He raises an eyebrow, and for the first time that evening, a genuine smile pulls at the corner of your lips.

“I don’t know about being pampered,” you mutter, feeling a little embarrassed at the thought.

“You’d be surprised,” Bucky grins. “But I’ll take care of you, okay? No more working yourself into the ground. You deserve to rest. You deserve to be protected.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the soft sincerity behind them reaching places inside you that you didn’t know needed mending. Maybe he was right. Maybe you didn’t have to do it all on your own. Maybe it was okay to lean on someone else, to trust them with your well-being, with your care.

“I don’t know if I can just… stop working,” you admit quietly, almost to yourself. But Bucky doesn’t seem bothered by your uncertainty.

“You don’t have to stop completely,” he says, his tone reassuring. “But you don’t have to wear yourself out like this either. You deserve to relax, to enjoy life without always feeling like you’re carrying the weight of the world. Let someone take care of the heavy lifting for a change.”

You exhale softly, a tiny chuckle. You didn’t have to worry about heavy lifting physically, because Elise’ strange gift gave her the advantage of hauling the heavy things around. But  the tension in your shoulders begins to melt away as you walk beside him. The idea of letting go—of surrendering just a little to the care of someone else—feels freeing in a way you didn’t expect. Maybe, just maybe, you could let Bucky help carry the load.

And for the first time in a long while, the thought of being cared for feels less like a burden and more like something you can let yourself want.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice barely a breath. “I’ll try.”

Bucky’s smile deepens, and he leans down just slightly to catch your gaze. “Good. I’ll make sure you get the rest you need.”

As the two of you continue walking, his arm still gently around you, the idea of being pampered doesn’t seem as strange anymore. Maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this new reality.

It had become routine for two weeks now, slowly enjoying his presence as you joined him for lunch again, the musk and pine scent making you relax and your body not scream in pain for once in your life. 

“For a bakery, these are good sandwiches,” Bucky spoke as he scoffed down his second hot sandwich. 

“Elise’ parents owned a bodega downtown. she got good at making them,” You beamed softly, sipping at the cup of water you usually had with lunch. 

“You gotta eat too, doll,” Bucky pushed the sweet treats towards you, “Come on,” 

He always made an effort to make sure you were well fed, as any good alpha in his time should have done. 

“I’m getting there,” You laughed softly and nibbled on a pastry that had been made fresh that morning. 

Your parents had always lectured you on not overeating but you seemed to crave food often, like your instincts demanded food to keep up with something. 

“So,” Bucky leaned back in his seat, content in watching you eat, “Where did you grow up?” 

“Chicago,” You told him with a shrug, “I do prefer New York,” 

Bucky nodded, noting the way your scent had an edge of burnt caramel to it, “Your parents still living in Chicago?” 

You couldn’t help but scrunch your nose up and Bucky thought how you looked like a bunny, all soft yet displeased with his question by your scent. 

“I don’t really talk to my parents anymore,” You whispered, placing the pastry down. 

For a moment, you expected him to ask before Bucky just silently nodded and smiled. 

“Only family I got is Steve and Sam, like two brothers I never asked for,” Bucky confessed. 

You giggled, a light floral scent blooming from you, and Bucky felt his heart swell. 

Your days continued like that, a lunch date and a quiet walk home in the early evening. The walks home were usually silent, just walking side by side down the street before you and Bucky bid each other goodbye at your building door. 

That was until one day they didn’t, and you were displeased when Bucky didn’t show up to share lunch. Elise watched as you sat sadly in the booth, hardly touching lunch before returning to work with silence as you served customers. 

Had Bucky found you boring? Did he find out that you weren’t normal, your instincts and genetics wired differently? Had it scared him off? 

It was starting to get even colder now, the threat of snow looming over New York. You were lost in thought as you stepped onto the street, turning to lock the door until a click and something pressed against your lower back. 

“Don’t move.” The voice was muffled, but you knew what was pressed against your back as you stood, shaking on the bakery steps. 

This person’s scent made you want to vomit, your instincts going haywire as you didn’t dare to move and face your assailant. 

“You’re kinda cute,” The alpha sniffed, “Turn around, bitch,” 

You did what you were told, slowly turning as tears rolled down your cheeks. This alpha held a gun to your body, snickering and smirking as he looked you up and down. It was violating, feeling his eyes scan your body. 

“Unlock the door and get the cash from the register,” He hissed, the gun now pointing to your head. 

“P-please..,” You whispered. 

The next moment happened so fast that all you saw was a glimmer of metal before the attacker was sent flying into the wall. 

– 

Bucky was going to strangle someone. 

He had asked for uninterrupted time with you, which he had gotten for the most part. Staying at the tower mostly by himself had been nice, getting away from all the smells in the compound was clearing his head. But your scent seemed to be burnt into his brain, because he could smell the lingering scent no matter where he was. 

His instincts wanted nothing more than to steal you away from that bakery and keep you locked up in his room at the tower, marking you, mating you, and scenting you. Sometimes, it irritated him when your smell of sugar and plums wasn’t mixed with his scent. In the forties, scent mates usually got married within a week. 

But Bucky was a gentleman, something this time didn’t appreciate so much anymore. 

Getting sent on that mission was stupid; he shouldn’t have had to go, It was easily handled by Sam and Steve, after all, Bucky was nothing more than a sniper and a look out. He should have been here with you, sharing lunch and hearing all about your life and loves. His best friends had noticed his irritation, and Steve had picked up on his burning scent, but neither of them had mentioned it. 

Now, he was rushing down the cold New York streets, looking repeatedly at his watch as he made his way to the cozy shop. The Bakery closed at seven thirty, and it was almost that time, meaning he could at the very least apologize for missing lunch and walk you home. 

Turning down the street, Bucky picked up on your scent easily but it didn’t smell right this time. That smell of burnt caramel mixed with the plums, indicating that something was wrong and it kick started Bucky’s system into overdrive. He was running before he knew it, straight towards that little bakery. 

Years as a soldier made petty thieves seem like ants to him, grabbing the other alpha by the throat and throwing him into the concrete wall before he stalked over, making sure your attacker was out of it. 

Would he need medical attention? Yes. 

Did he deserve it? No. Not in Bucky’s eyes. 

You sobbed, and all of Bucky’s instincts zoned in on your shaking form. 

The scent was something he wanted to erase, he never wanted to smell burnt caramel again because it meant you were upset. You were shaking, tears rolling down your cheeks even as he reached out and cupped your cheeks, metal and flesh fingers wiping away the tears. 

“Can I?” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, offering you a choice even though you both know what you need.

You nod wordlessly, your throat tight. It’s like your body knows the comfort he’s offering even before your mind catches up. When his arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest, it’s like the last of the tension in your body melts away. The overwhelming scent of him envelops you, and you instinctively breathe him in, the warmth of his embrace sinking into your bones.

Bucky frowned; he hadn’t done this in a while, consoling an omega with scent. But he pushed his scent forward, rubbing his wrists over your neck while wiping the tears away. You finally calmed down when Bucky pulled his massive jacket off and placed it around your shoulders. 

It warmed you up instantly, the musk and pine scent calming all your nerves and emotions as you collected yourself again. You can feel his eyes on you, gentle and understanding, but there’s something more—something primal in the way his scent seems to flow around you, slowly calming your racing heartbeat. His natural warmth seems to bleed into the space between you, and even though you're still shaken, you can’t help but lean slightly into him.

“Hey,” Bucky says softly, stepping closer, his voice quiet and soothing. “You’re okay. He’s gone. You’re safe.”

“Y-yeah..,” You stuttered out before letting out another sob as the wave of emotions hit you now that the shock was gone. 

You needed something a lit bit more, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around his bigger frame. You hadn’t had time to stop yourself before you hugged him, your instincts and desire just craved the physical touch. 

Bucky didn’t say anything, just wrapping his arms around your frame and holding you close. The pressure of his embrace combined with his scent, eventually calmed everything until you could take a step back and finally breath. 

“Thank you..,” You uttered. 

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Bucky placed a hand on your back, guiding you down the street towards your apartment building. 

Like every other day, it was silent, but it was a peaceful silence. Bucky’s sense of protectiveness was thick, his musk getting heavier, and it almost made you want to fall asleep for some strange reason. 

As you approached your apartment building, your mind raced before it landed on a conclusion. 

You were going to ask Bucky inside. 

“I..,” You started, Bucky looking at you intently, “Do.., you want to come up?” 

He was frozen in spot and you mentally face-palmed. Was that the wrong question to ask? It didn’t have to lead anything, not that you hadn’t fantasized about this hunk of a man in front you for your entire heat and any little sessions after that. 

“I’m sorry..,” You apologized quickly. 

“No, no, Doll, it’s not like that,” Bucky quickly spoke as soon as he realised why you were apologizing, “I’d love to, I mean, I would but I want to do this right..,” 

“Right?” You questioned, “Bucky, you just saved my life.” 

“Yeah..,” He nodded, “I mean, let me take you out on a date.” 

Your heart swelled at the question, quickly nodding your head before going to pull the jacket off your shoulders. Only Bucky stopped you, readjusting the jacket and keeping it firmly on your shoulders and even zipping it up. 

“Keep it, Doll,” Bucky smiled, “Makes you smell like me.” 

Not only did that make your heart flutter but your pussy did too. 

“Okay..,” Your voice came out small yet excited. 

“How’s Saturday?” Bucky asked, “I can pick you up from the shop.” 

You nodded eagerly. “Saturday is perfect.” 

– 

Steve, Sam, and Nat’s arrival at the Avenger’s tower late Friday afternoon had sent all of Bucky’s plans into the dirt. It was like the two alphas and beta knew Bucky was seeing you and decided to mess them all up with a flurry of questions and interrogation.

“You’re going on a date?” Steve asked as they stood in the kitchen, Bucky messing with his shirt. 

“Yes, a date,” Bucky huffed, “With the omega from the bakery,” 

“The one you went all weird macho alpha on?” Sam teased as he sipped his drink, “Poor lady must have some weird kinks-” 

The snapped Bucky’s attention, making him growl again and glare at Sam. The beta took a step back as Nat entered the room, the only one keeping the cyborg at bay was Steve. 

“You really think she’s your scent mate?” Steve asked, “Buck, that stuff doesn’t exist in these days,” 

“Evolution changed all of that,” Nat spoke up as she grabbed a beer from the fridge, “But then again, you’re an ancient man,” 

Bucky didn’t respond to Nat’s statement. He knew what the red room had done to all those girls and woman that were trained to be Black Widows. They targeted alpha girls as children, trained them and harnessed their senses but made them never able to connect with a mate. Scent glands removed and removal of the reproduction organs. 

At the very least, Hydra hadn’t taken that from him while they had taken it from Nat. 

“You three better not stalk me,” Bucky huffed. 

“We won’t,” Steve nodded, giving his best friend and fellow alpha a pat on the shoulder. 

Sam’s comment made Bucky roll his eyes, “But Redwing might!” 

Bucky had picked the perfect place for your date, it was quiet and not overly busy, so you wouldn’t get overwhelmed. He’d seen the way you got flustered when a lot of people came to the bakery at once, so it was something low-key and you could just focus on each other. 

You had been anxious for the two days before Saturday, Elise had been nothing but excited on your behalf and even tried to give you some pointers but it flew in one ear and out the other. All you knew was that you were looking forward to see Bucky, regardless of the date or not.

But the one setback in your mind was, once again, how unusual you were. 

Could he deal with something like that? He saved people every day as an Avenger. Was this something long-term or just trying to mess around? 

The doorbell chimed and you jumped, turning to see Bucky standing at the door in a black coat and washed out, grey jeans. His hair was tied up for once, but it looked nice. You wore a simple dark blue dress with long sleeves to combat the Winter that was now setting in and hugged your waist slightly. 

“Hi,” Bucky greeted as he stepped forward and that scent filled the space, filling you with ease. 

If things didn’t work out, you were probably going to be spending the rest of your life alone. 

“Hi Buck..,” You stepped out from behind counter, a shy smile on your face while Bucky pulled something out from his pocket. 

“I..I got you this,” He cleared his throat, opening up a little box, “It’s a bracelet.” 

Your eyes shifted to the gold link band, that had a little black star charm on it. No doubt it was made specially to compliment his arm, something matching to remind you of the super soldier. Gingerly, Bucky locked the bracelet around your wrist, while you watched the gold twinkle with awe. 

“Hey, supes!” Elise called out, “Have her back by midnight!” 

Bucky just chuckled as he offered up his arm, something you gladly took, and walked out of the bakery. 

– 

The place is cozy, with vinyl booths and checkered floors, the kind of spot where the air smells like comfort food and old-time charm. The soft hum of background music fills the space, and the low murmur of other diners adds to the quiet atmosphere. The smell of sizzling burgers and fresh fries teases your senses, but it’s the calm, welcoming vibe that makes it the perfect place for a quiet night out.

It was quiet, thankfully. Bucky thanked his lucky stars as you were sat in a booth, watching you go over the menu before you both ordered. You didn’t usually eat too much, making food was a passion but working had you so tired most days that you lived off noodles or leftovers from the bakery. 

You felt a little bit lighter in his presence but deep down, weighing on your soul was the shame you’d been carrying because of your sub-gender. It made you uneasy on how it might progress your relationship with Bucky or stop it all together. 

“So,” Bucky cleared his throat, “How long have you worked at the bakery?” 

A small smile plays on your lips, and you relax just a little bit. It’s easy to talk about the bakery, about the work you do.

“Four years,” you say, your fingers nervously tracing a pattern on the table. “I started there right after I left home. Elise was looking for someone part-time, and it just… clicked. I love it. I love the people. I love baking. It feels like I’m doing something meaningful.”

“I gotta say, the food is amazing and I don’t usually like sweet thing,” Bucky confessed, “And it smells so good,” 

You laugh softly, a light flush creeping onto your cheeks. “Well, I do try to make the best cinnamon rolls in town. People seem to like them.” Your voice falters a bit as the conversation shifts, the weight in your chest slowly building again.

Bucky watches you, his eyes soft with curiosity. He notices the shift, the way your shoulders tense, and doesn’t push, simply waiting for you to continue.

You decided now was the time to be truthful, lay the cards on the table and see what he was dealing with. 

“My parents kicked me out when I was eighteen,” You nibbled on some fries as you spoke, “They couldn’t handle..dealing with me, I barely finished school and no college wanted to accept me, I was nothing but a burden,” 

Bucky’s face hardened, noting the way your scent smelt like candied plums now, an indication of fear and shame. He never wanted you to feel like that. Reaching across the table, his flesh hand covers your own, grounding you in the moment. 

“Listen to me,” he finally says, his voice soft but resolute. “You’re not a burden. Never have been, never will be. And I don’t care what your parents think. I want to build a home with you, one where you don’t have to worry about that kind of shit. I’ll take care of you, and you’ll never be alone again.”

“Bucky,” You placed your fries down, “I’m not like other omegas,” 

“Why’s that?” 

“I’m..an anomaly,” You confessed, “I can smell people’s sub-genders. I’m submissive because my brain tells me to be..I…I get heats, I hoard things!” 

Heats were the most shameful part for you.

It was silent for a moment before Bucky smiled, chuckling even as he took in the information. Fate was a bitch, Bucky Barnes knew that enough but maybe fate was now being kind, giving him an omega that he could help, provide for and please. 

“Doll, I’m from the 1940’s and I’m well over a hundred years old,” Bucky chuckled. “That’s normal where I come from. You’re perfect,” 

You were dumbfounded. 

Bucky grins then, breaking the tension with a light chuckle. “I mean, we all have our weird quirks, right? Like, I’m pretty sure I’m not exactly normal either. I have a metal arm and super human strength”

You raise an eyebrow at him, a small laugh escaping you despite yourself. “Oh really? What’s so weird about you?”

He leans back, pretending to think, then smirks. “Well, I hoard things too. I mean, I’ve got about ten knives at home, and I don’t even cook.”

You can’t help but laugh out loud at that, and Bucky’s grin grows wider. “See? Everyone’s got their thing. What’s yours?”

You bite your lip, the smile fading a little as you think about it. “I… I hoard blankets,” you say, almost sheepishly. “I just feel like I need a lot of them. It’s, uh… comforting. I don’t know, I guess it’s a weird thing, but I don’t like being cold.”

Bucky’s eyes light up, and he chuckles again. “Hoarding blankets? That’s not weird at all. That’s just your instinct, sweetheart. Omegas like to have soft things around them—makes them feel safe, it's your nest.”

“My what?” 

Bucky turned, his arm whirred as he did so and looked you in the eyes. Those blue eyes were filled with a mix of concern and amusement that came out in his scent as an almost citrus undertone. 

“Your nest,” Bucky stated, “Do you not know what a nest is?” 

You shook your head. 

“It’s your.. Safe space,” He explained, “For you to rest, spend your heats…, have pups in,” 

You swallowed thickly at the word pups, it made your instincts suddenly kick into over drive. The thought of pups with Bucky? Divine, you couldn’t think of anything better in this universe. He’d be an amazing father no doubt, you’d let him breed you as many times as it took until you had a full soccer team of kids. 

“Omega,” 

The deep drawl pulled you out of your haze, watching the way Bucky’s eyes seemed to be clouded over and his nostrils flared slightly. He could smell you, no doubt about it. 

“Calm down before things get out of hand,” Bucky managed to cough out. “How have you been spending your heats?” 

“Alone,” You mumbled, “I..I had a boyfriend once, he was an omega like me but.., it just didn’t work,” 

Bucky almost wanted to scoff. Of course, it wouldn’t work; an omega wouldn’t be able to please you like an alpha. No, like he would. This day and age might have lost a lot of the sub-gender characteristics and norms but some things were still engraved in those instincts. 

Specifically with mating. 

“Um, Bucky?” You whispered so softly that he almost didn’t hear you. 

“Yeah?” He spoke back just as softly.

“Can you help me with my nest?” 

– 

The sound of a nest was so lovely and exciting to you that you forgot that your apartment wasn’t best-looking one in New York. It was small, with one bedroom and a bathroom, as it was all you could afford if you wanted to have any money left over from what you earned at work. 

Bucky found the space cute, the mismatched furniture, the blankets piled high in one corner, the cozy rug decorated with throw blankets on the couch, hanging plants, and lots of books. Everything feels like a reflection of you: warm but full of character. The kitchen was tiny and you didn’t have a dining table. The space made him want to provide for you more, a rumble in his chest indicating his intent that he was trying so hard to keep down at the moment. 

This moment was for you, helping you make a nest. 

Nests were so sacred in the 40s. Most homes came with a specific room for omegas to create nests in, you could buy blankets, pillows and a range of other items from nest specific stores that just didn’t exist anymore today. Omega children often learnt nesting skills from their omega parent or siblings. An omegas nest was the most vulnerable part of them and you asking for his help was the most trusting thing you could do. 

After all his years in Hydra, Bucky didn’t think he’d ever be in an omegas nest again. 

Your room was also small, with a massive bed and a set of draws with some bed side tables. It wasn’t too heavily decorated, other than the piles of blankets and pillows that seemed to be thrown around the room. 

Bucky stopped at the door because that smell that hit him wasn’t just your usual scent, it was something stronger. The smell of sugar plums with floral notes, warm caramel and freshly baked cinnamon rolls invaded his senses and he couldn’t help but slump slightly against the door. He could die a happy, happy alpha in this room. 

You rushed to pick up a few of the blankets, moving them into a corner. 

“Um, this is my bedroom,” You uttered out, a lit bit embarrassed as she space was so small, “Sorry it’s a mess right now, I didn’t think you’d be coming over-” 

“Omega,” Bucky’s voice deepened and you went hazy again, empty headed as you just looked at him, “Come here,” 

Trudging along the floor, you stopped in front of him. Bucky was already a big guy but now he looked massive in your tiny apartment. His metal hand softly cupped your chin and the other rested on her collar bone, his thumb moving along your skin. 

A strong scent invaded your senses, that musky pine making your knees weak and lulling all your worry and anxiousness away. It was a time to listen to your instincts, which made you want to find something soft, something warm. 

Bucky watched as you gathered up the blankets, arranging them on your bed and fluffing out the pillows. It wasn’t neat but nests weren’t supposed to be, they were meant to be however you liked it.

At times, you would shake your head in frustration, sending a pillow flying from the bed, only to swap it for a blanket instead. The switch was an intricate ritual of comfort and restlessness intertwined.

His heart tightened with a mix of emotions as he watched you retrieve the jacket he had gifted you just a few days prior. With deliberate care, you tucked it into one of the pillowcases, as if enshrining a precious memory. You arranged it meticulously amidst the sea of pillows, creating a sanctuary of warmth and familiarity.

Finally, you nestled into this cozy haven, curling up with a sigh of contentment. Your face burrowed into the inviting softness, seeking solace in the comforting embrace of fabric and sentiment.

“Will you join me?” 

That jump started Bucky’s brain. 

“You sure?” Bucky asked, “This is a vulnerable place for you to be in.” 

“I made it with the intent of having you in it, A-Alpha.” 

That one word had him spiraling, quickly kicking off his shoes and breaching the collection of blankets and pillows. Bucky had no intention of anything physical today, but a cuddle in your nest was more cherished than sex. 

Bucky laid down slowly, letting you get comfortable. His metal arm whizzed slightly, and Bucky couldn’t help but frown. It was a reminder that he wasn’t whole, maybe if you’d met him back in the 40s, when he had been a young man not yet affected by the war or years of brainwashing, you’d have liked him more.

“I can take it off,” He whispered. 

“The sound is soothing,” You hummed as you laid against his metal arm, cuddling up to the device with content, “And it’s a part of you,” 

There was no way in hell Bucky was ever letting you go now. 

A rumbling sound vibrated from your chest and your eyes opened, confused. Bucky felt a lump form in his throat, letting a deeper sounding rumble from his own chest. 

“What am I doing?” You asked. 

“Purring,” Bucky cupped your cheek, his thumb running over your nose, “You’re purring, doll, you do it when you feel safe and happy,” 

Little tears filled your eyes before you shifted closer to him, the purring louder as you took in his words. The world made you feel like an outcast, something placed out of time and having no place to belong. 

But Bucky had fixed up those feelings in these short weeks. 

As you drifted off to sleep, Bucky silent pulled out his phone and dialed Steve’s number. 

“How’s it going, Buck?” Steve’s voice called from the other end, “All is well, I hope?” 

“Steve,” Bucky swallowed as he spoke, “I need to buy a house,”

– 

The next morning was supposed to be peaceful, calm and loving. Bucky had stayed the night, both of you cuddled up in your nest. But you woke in the early hours before the sun rose, aching and sweaty as you crawled out of the nest and only the cold, hard wood floor. Your dress was discarded as you worked to cool yourself down as the fever was quickly rising.

Bucky must have sensed you move because soon enough, he was awake and next to you on the floor. 

“Hun,” He whispered softly, “Hey, look at me,” 

“It..,” You groaned, “Burns.., It’s so hot,” 

The sweet smell that filled the room was a sign your heat had started and Bucky knew, he knew that if you waited any longer, you’d been in more pain. You were already curled up on the floor, slick coating your thighs while you whimpered. The musk of Bucky’s scent only helped take the edge off a tiny bit, if anything, it made your instincts more heightened as your body screamed for him. 

Bucky shushed you, one strong hand slipping behind your back, pulling you into his lap. His metal fingers ghosted over your bare thigh, leaving a cool trail that contrasted the fire burning inside you. “I know, Omega. I know. Just let go, I’ve got you.”

You mewled, squirming in his lap and fingers digging into his shirt. His scent was thicker now, you could get hints of smoke amongst the musk and pine. 

“You’re doing’ so good, sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath hot against your neck. His voice was thick, laced with the deep rumble of his Alpha instincts, but he held himself back—for you. “Just breathe. Let me take care of you,”

His lips found the sensitive spot on your throat, where his mark should be, and he pressed a lingering kiss there. You melted, body instinctively arching for him, trusting him completely.

“Mine,” he growled, possessiveness thrumming through his scent as he held you closer. But even in his need, he was gentle, letting you set the pace, letting you surrender only when you were ready.

And oh, you were so, so ready.

Bucky hauled you back up into the nest, making sure you were comfortable among the pillows and blankets as he hovered over you. That possessiveness stayed thick in his scent as he kissed you, lips tugging at your own and you melted again. 

The heat was starting to become unbearable. It clawed at your skin, leaving you breathless and aching, every cell in your body crying out for something you didn’t quite know how to ask for.

But he did.

His lips moved down your throat again and when he bit softly, you couldn’t help crying out in pleasure. You wanted that bite mark to be deeper, you wanted his teeth to be embedded in your skin, your instincts wanted to be marked. 

“B-bucky..,” You cried out and he gingerly cupped your face. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you, doll,” He whispered. 

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” You managed to gasp out, “I..I need you,” 

That was the line that broke all reason. 

His metal arm ripped the remaining clothes from your skin, a whimper leaving your throat as Bucky’s hands wandered over your body. The coolness of the metal arm was oddly soothing as it worked over your breasts and his lips wrapped around one of your nipples. 

In your only previous experience, you hadn’t been liked to be touched so much. Your omega ex-boyfriend hadn’t been confident like Bucky was. 

His tongue swirled around the hardened bud, your body writhing underneath him before Bucky proceeded to press kisses down your skin. He could smell your slick, the floral scent filling the room and it was starting to make him dizzy. 

When his fingers trailed down with his lips and collected the slick coating your thighs, you almost screamed when he used the same fingers to swirl around your sensitive clit. 

“Oh god...oh god Bucky!” you cried out, your body surging at the gentle contact. You were so sensitive, it was almost too much, but it felt so good. Your hands reached out for him, desperate to hold onto anything as he kept teasing you, driving you insane with want.

You could feel his breath ghosting over your aching core, a promise that had your body trembling in anticipation.

“Need this too?” He teased, voice thick.

“Please,” you begged, “please Alpha.”

That did it. His lips latched onto your quivering pussy and the world turned white as your back arched off the bed and into his waiting hands. You came apart with a choked cry as he held you through it, tongue never stopping until he’d wrung every last aftershock from your trembling body.

But it wasn’t enough. The heat still clawed at you, still demanded more.

“Please,” you whimpered again softly, and Bucky bit the inside of his cheek.

Giving you his knot would make everything all better but he wasn’t even sure if you knew what a knot was. From his understanding, alphas didn’t knot their omegas anymore.

Hell, Alphas didn’t even seek out omegas anymore.

“This will change everything,” Bucky groaned, your scent invading his senses and almost making him lose control, “Are you sure, omega?”

His words were fuzzy as he spoke, like hearing underwater. All you knew was that you needed him, all of him, your instincts screaming for Bucky to fuck you and breed you.

“Need you,” you breathed, almost sobbing with it. “Please, Bucky.”

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. The metal hand pulled his own clothes off while his flesh hand stayed on your thigh.

The next moment, Bucky’s hands were on your hips, pulling you into him as he buried himself inside of you in one firm thrust. You cried out, the mix of relief and overwhelming need washing through you as he filled you completely.

“Oh fuck,” he grunted, his voice raw as he started to move, slow and controlled at first but quickly giving in to the urgency of your heat. “S-so tight, Omega...”

The feeling of him inside you was everything you needed and more. Your legs wrapped around him as he drove into you over and over, each thrust sending a dizzying wave of pleasure through your body.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, clinging onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

“Never gonna stop,” he promised, his breath ragged and his movements slow in the beginning.

Bucky's cock inside you was hot and thick, filling you completely and sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

The sensations were dizzying as you felt every ridge and vein of his cock moving inside you, each one adding to the pleasure coursing through your body. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks at the sensation, pleasure erupting through you in a wave.

Bucky’s pace got faster, rougher, his cock pumping in and out of you while his hands remained on your hips. He was guiding your body against his, pressure building with each desperate thrust.

You felt the heat coil tighter, tighter until—

“Oh god!” you cried out, clenching around him again as you came for the second time. The force of it made you see stars and your whole body trembled violently under him.

But Bucky didn’t stop. He knew what he needed to do to soothe your heat entirely. He could feel it in the way your body still begged for more, your slick coated cunt sucking his cock in, in the way your scent still drove him wild.

The grip on your hips tightened and Bucky growled low in his throat as he held you flush against him. His thrusts became frantic, driven by pure instinct and need. And then you felt it—his knot swelling inside you, locking the both of you together.

A feral sound tore from his chest and he bit down on your neck at the same time as his knot stretched you impossibly wide, marking you forever as his omega.

It was the aftershock that had you crying out, fingers digging into Bucky’s broad shoulders as emotions slammed into your body. You let out a sob and Bucky soothed you, a low growl vibrating through his chest as he pulled you upwards until you were sitting in his lap. His knot was still locked deep inside your cunt, but it wasn’t painful.

You felt complete.

“B-Buck..,” You sobbed.

“I got you,” Bucky’s deep voice cooed at you, “Promise..,”

Then a purr began to vibrate in your own chest.

Bucky’s hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your heated cheek with utmost tenderness.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his words thick with affection as your purrs vibrated against each other.

You were wrapped around him in every possible way, mind hazy with the overwhelming sensation of being so completely claimed and content. The heat that had seared through your body was now a warm, comfortable buzz, soothed entirely by Bucky and his knot.

It was everything. It was perfect.

He shifted slightly, careful not to jostle you too much and you whimpered softly at the motion. He had never thought he’d have this, never thought he’d be tangled up in blankets with an omega in his lap and a bond forming between them. After never finding his scent mate back in the 40s, Bucky thought he’d never have this type of happiness.

But here you were.

Your fingers played at the ends of his hair as you calmed down from the high, as reality settled in that this wasn’t a dream for both of you.

[alexlwrites]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Alpha! Hyung line x Omega! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "And through some happenstance, casual and cruel, shaped by the hands of the Moon goddesses, you ended up face to face with what They considered your fated mates.

Of course, they didn’t know that - how could they recognize their goddess-given match if you had no scent? As long as you didn’t reach maturity, only you would feel this pull, this constant urge pooling at your lower abdomen when their scents filled your nose and sent your eyes rolling back.

You knew your place and it was not amongst royalty."

OR  

The one where you find your fated alphas, but they can't find you.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, ABO, Soulmate AUs.

✿ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This is a 18+ work! Minors, please do not interact. Also, there will be mentions of violence and abuse.

(Fanfic masterlist)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨 - 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

(<<< part one)

Namjoon couldn’t sleep. He twisted and turned, tangled up in his sheets, his once comfortable bed feeling too large now.

Y/N. That name echoed and ricocheted around his brain like a prayer or a curse. Something had shifted when you locked your scared eyes on him and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it pulled him out of his bedroom and into yours, onto your bed, on top of you…

He shook his head, willing the intrusive thought away. He felt out of control, skin itching and too tight. Could it all be caused by his body reacting to the presence of an unmated omega? Could he blame his current state of distress on the trembling girl hiding under the covers of a hospital bed? 

He should keep his distance, allowing Hoseok to follow through with his security protocols without intervening. That was the wise, responsible thing to do.

Then why did the thought of staying away made his skin crawl? Why did the idea of letting Hoseok, another alpha, alone with you brought violence to the front of his mind, urging him to punch a wall and fight his way to you?

Morning came and rest still escaped him, eyes bloodshot as he started to ready himself to his many obligations, going through the motions of his day as his thoughts wandered towards where you slept, his inner wolf clawing at the inside of his chest, howling for something he could not name.

Namjoon curled his fist on the way to his office, holding back the urge to resent you for crumbling his self control and starting a riot within him. Maybe that was why omegas were rare, he mused: they held too much power.

He sighed, already exhausted even barely at the break of dawn - he wished Yoongi were there. The level-headed alpha would surely know the best course of action and nudge him towards the right direction. Alas, his friend had been sent away on some diplomatic  mission or another and wouldn’t be back until the later end of a fortnight or so. He supposed he still had Hoseok and Jin, but Jin…

Jin was sat on a corner chair when he arrived at his office. nursing a cup of tea in one hand while picking at his nails with the other, mindlessly staring into nothing. Namjoon knew Jin would have no interest in the frightened omega as he had no interest in anything at all - not since Nira.

“Morning” Namjoon greeted him carefully, as they all had in the past couple of months “Have you seen Hoseok?”

Jin blinked, as if waking up from a trance, moving his dark hair from his face and saying “He’s with the omega.”

Namjoon nodded, holding back the unreasonable beast roaring inside him once more at the idea. “What do you think we should do?” he asked his advisor, not really expecting a helpful answer.

The other man curled his lips in distaste “Send her away, for all I care.”

Namjoon nodded again, having seen that reply coming. Jin’s hatred for omegas had only risen in Nira’s absence and no soft looking lips or big scared eyes would change that so swiftly. 

If he could not count on Jin, Hoseok would be then.

---

When Hoseok arrived in the hospital wing, you were already awake, picking at the buttered bread the maids brought you, pulling the smallest of pieces and munching on them. 

Made to provide and protect, alphas in general did not react well to an unfed omega, the sight unsettling and downright wrong. Even though it was not his place, Hoseok could not help but to say with the smallest of barks “You should eat more”.

The sound of his voice caused you to jump slightly, voice strained as you said bowing slightly from your bed “Sir Hoseok, I did not expect to see you again so soon.”

He frowned. “I sent a message beforehand informing you I would be coming” he pointed at a piece of paper on top of your breakfast tray “Is that not it?”

“Oh” you picked the note and examined the beautiful cursive writing in it before admitting casually “I can’t read”.

Hoseok blinked. Once. Twice.

“What do you mean, you can’t read?” 

You tilted your head sideways, owlish and confused and Hoseok had to pinch his own leg to resist the urge to coo at your expression. 

“Why would I know how to read? I’m an omega.”

And just like that, whatever fluttering feeling Hoseok had evaporated, replaced by dread and disbelief “You… What?”

“I’m an omega” you repeated, a tinge of edgeness and sass slipping into your voice “Why would I know how to read? Why would someone waste their time teaching me?” 

Hoseok was speechless, brows furrowed as a new emotion burned its way through him. He took a deep breath to settle himself, his inner alpha fighting against him to snarl and protect you from some invisible danger. 

“Wh-who” he coughed, trying to hide the growl that threatened to sneak into his speech “Who told you that?” 

“Father” you promptly answered.

Father. Your father had told you that educating omegas was a waste of time. Hoseok struggled to process the information, hatred adding to ever growing turmoil in him building up to an inferno. 

He took another deep breath. Was this the effect of an omega? If so, he could understand why alphas bent themselves backwards to their wills, built and laid waste to fortresses and cities for them. He would too, if his defensiveness and sudden sense of protection was indicative of anything.

5 minutes in a closed space with a (scentless, mind you!) omega and he was losing his mind. 

“We’ll come back to that later.” he said at last, unable to deal with your explanation when he had other pressing matters “His Majesty said he found you in the back gardens. How did you end up there?” 

You gulped, burrowing further under the blanket, eyes glazed with fear. “I ran” you answered, body tense as if you were preparing to run once more. 

“You… Ran?” you had answered his questions but somehow every reply just confused him even more. The nearest road leading to the back of the castle would be a day away by foot. If you were running, what were you running from?

He didn’t have to verbalize his wonderings, as you clarified yourself, voice progressively shakier “Father… Father was going to sell me. Fifteen million to a lord from the next town over. But…” Your eyes filled with tears “But I don’t want to get married. Please, sir, don’t make me go back!”

Hoseok’s hands were shaking. He didn’t know when it started nor how to stop and this out of control  feeling left him breathless in his anger. He could tell you were scared of him but didn’t know how to reel back.

He needed to remove himself from the situation.

Without another word, he turned around and stormed out of the room, door slamming behind his back as he left you alone in stupefied silence. 

Would he send you back, you wondered from your bed, feeling the walls closing in on you. Would he force you back to your father’s claws, dooming you to the life of a sold omega? 

You stood up, weak but resolute. You couldn’t let that happen. You had come too far to be sent back, freedom once more stolen from your hands by some alpha. You had run away once and surely you could do it again.

You waited with baited breath for Hoseok’s thundering steps to disappear in the distance before opening the slightest bit of the door, peering at the hall. Finding it empty, you sneaked outside, silent and feather light, holding still for a second before bolting.

You followed the brick wall to what you assumed was the east wing, cutting through winding halls and empty stairways. You could do this, you told yourself, listening around for another presence, you could find your way to the outside again…

A choked sound escaped you as your body slammed into something hard, hitting the floor with a soft and pained thud. You barely had time to process the burning feeling in your tailbone before the smell of syrup and every sweet thing invaded your senses. 

Your mate. Another one.

You inhaled shakily as you looked up and up, your mate tall with larger-than-life shoulders and handsome features that were twisted with the deepest of frowns. 

Already your mate hated you and somehow that knowledge twisted a deeper knife into your heart. You didn’t know if you could handle anymore disappointments. 

“You must be the omega” he sneered.

You remained silent and stiff while still on the ground. Your scent was enough of an answer.

Your mate made no move to help you, nor did he introduce himself. Instead, he stared down at you for a moment longer before saying in a cold, flat tone “If it were up to me, we would’ve already sent you back to wherever you came from” you heart ceased beating, stilling in fear for a few seconds “But, for some reason, His Majesty wants you here. So you’ll go back to your quarters and I’ll pretend I didn’t witness this pathetic attempt of escaping.

You nodded, standing up and bowing your head in taught submission.

He spared you one more hateful glance before turning away and walking down the hall. “Stay in your room” he called without looking back “and stay out of my way.”

---

Dinner was a tense affair. Despite his many meetings and obligations, Namjoon  usually held the right to dine amongst his friends instead of attending to some boring lord or another and his meals were often light events filled with stories and laughter.

That evening however, a cloud of unsettled silence hung above the room while the three men poked around their plates, quietly daring the other to speak first.

At last, Namjoon spoke, eyes fixated on the cutlery and fine china “How is she?”

Hoseok clenched his fist under the table “Scared” he answered “Apparently, her father…” he closed his eyes, trying to fight the image of you that seemed to be stuck to the back of his eyelids “Her father was trying to sell her. So she ran.”

Although not unheard of, the practice of selling omegas was very much still a taboo topic, considered a despicable thing by most. And even so, that particular market, which Namjoon had fought against many times in his ruling, mostly consisted of kidnapped omegas. The idea that her own father could be behind such a disgusting act had even Jin shifting in his seat, feeling uncomfortable and even the tiniest bit guilty.

For a moment, no one said a thing. The air sizzled with concealed aggression. “Do we know who her father is?” Namjoon asked, craving the sight of this unknown man behind the bars of his dungeons. 

Hoseok winced “I didn’t ask” he admitted shamefully “When she told me, I lost control of my alpha and had to leave.” he looked down at his white knuckled fists, confused and upset “This never used to happen and now I’m…”

“I understand” the king intervened, the same conflicted expression on his face “I feel the same. I don’t know, something about her…”

“You are both getting too attached to this girl” Jin interrupted harshly, eyes at last filled with something other than vague disinterest - Jin was concerned “And you shouldn’t.”

“You’re not suggesting we send her back, are you?”

“Of course not” he snapped. “She can stay until you two figure out what to do. I’m just reminding you that that girl’s mate is out there somewhere and bound to show up at some point, so it would do well for the both of you to keep that in  mind before letting your out of control alphas cloud your judgement. That omega is not yours. Trust me on this.”

---

Hoseok did not come back to visit you again, nor did the king, although you expected that. In fact, none of them showed up in the next couple of days, not even when you were moved from the hospital wing to a guest room. 

The room was bright with large stained glass windows that opened to the back gardens of the castle. It also came with a lady in waiting - a tall beta girl named Sophie, You did not pose much of a hassle for her as you didn’t eat much, still focused on maintaining a strict diet to delay your own coming of age, nor did you leave the room.

Still, Sophie did make for great company. You didn’t have any sisters and the maids back home were too scared to talk to you and incur your father’s wrath, so the young woman’s presence and spirited curiosity were a breath of fresh air.

She stayed in your room for most of the day, fussing over pillows or your hair, filling your minutes with gossip from the maid’s quarters and questions about your life as an omega. Although most often than not the questions were invasive and a little crass, the carefree feeling of it all entertained you endlessly.

“So,” she started one morning while combing your hair “Are there any differences to your body as an omega?” 

Confused, you asked “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I’ve never met an omega” she kept going with braiding your hair carefully, ignoring your rising blush “Is there anything different in your lady parts? Like, when you’re with an alpha…”

“I’ve never!” you interrupted before she could embarrass you any further “I’ve never been with an alpha or anyone really!”

There was an awkward cough from behind you. Both you and Sophie turned in a fright to find the king himself shuffling his feet uncomfortably by your door. 

“I’m sooo fired” Sophie muttered quietly.

“Excuse me ladies” he said in a stifled manner “Could I have a moment of Y/N’s time?” 

Sophie put down the brush, face pale as she left the room with a squeaky “sorry!”.

You wished at that moment that you could leave too, but Namjoon closed the door behind her and leaned against it, keeping his distance while you bowed your head to try and hide your rising shame.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your, uhm, conversation” he said, the tips of his ears burning to an unusual red. 

“It’s alright, Your Majesty, please don’t apologize.”

He coughed again, unable to shake his unease. “How have you been faring?”

You blinked, surprised by his question “Me?” you stupidly asked “I’ve been fine.”

Truly, you had not been fine. You had been driving yourself insane, locked behind the walls of your bedroom, caged again but in a different, fancier prison, taunted by the knowledge that your mates, who you had dreamt about every night back in your old home, were only a few feet away and still untouchable. You allowed yourself to cry in the dead of night, haunted by the fact that your child-like fantasies of a true love were now buried under the weight of the alphas you could never have and the one that hated you for no apparent reason.

You were not fine. You were falling apart. But when weren’t you? 

The king must’ve sensed your lie, clear from your twitching eyelids and fragile frame, but chose not to comment on it. Instead he approached you slowly, sitting on a velvet couch a couple feet away from you, his scent filling your senses and leaving you light headed as the omega inside you whined and cried for you to climb up on his lap and burrow your face in his neck.

Instead of doing all of that, you tried your best to breathe through your mouth as he said “I apologize for not coming to you earlier.”

“No need to apologize, Your Majesty. You must be very busy. Ademas can’t be a very easy place to rule.” 

He snorted “I’d say. Have you been to the capital?” 

“Oh, no, I wasn’t allowed outside my father's estate. But I’ve seen the illustrations on the books and it looks like quite the bustling place! I’ve always dreamed of…” you stopped yourself, hiding your enthusiasm and bowing again. The king would have no interest in listening to your musings about the city you only ever hoped to meet “No, I’ve never seen Adamas.”

“A pity” he said, eyes looking for yours “It’s a very lovely place with endless options of entertainment for a young girl such as yourself. How old are you again, Y/N?”

“22, Your Majesty. Almost 23.” 

“And your… Scent?”

You paled at the question “Oh, I-I suppose it just… Never happened for me. Something must be wrong with my omega.”

“Perhaps we could send a doctor-”

“No! I mean -” you coughed, calming yourself as the king stared inquisitively at your outburst “That’s not necessary, but thank you”.

If he thought your denial was strange, he did not mention it. Instead, he continued “Hoseok told me about your situation” you froze, scared of the next few words that would dictate your future “and I’m sorry you ever had to go through that.”

Your heart stopped beating for a second. “Your Majesty?”

“No Omegas should be viewed as merchandise, mistreated and denied simple pleasures such as reading.” he said, a fiery certainty behind his eyes that left you weak in the knees “I know you must’ve been taught otherwise, but know that under my ruling omegas are to be respected and protected like any others.” 

Respected. Protected. 

You had never thought you’d hear those words being applied to you. And to hear it from your mate, your heartbreakingly beautiful mate that was worlds beyond your reach, sent a wave of emotion through your body, bringing tears to your eyes at his kindness. 

“Oh, no, please don’t cry, Miss Y/N” Namjoon said in a panicked voice “I’m not the best at dealing with crying ladies. Much less omegas.” 

You laughed shakily at his remark, tears still streaming down your face “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

“Ah, it’s okay. One cannot be king for long without seeing some amount of tears but I do try to not make a habit of making girls cry.”

“You must be a great king then.” 

Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but for a moment you could’ve sworn you saw a splash of red on the king’s face. 

“Anyway” he coughed, “you are welcome to stay in the castle while we figure out the best course of action and as soon as you feel ready I urge you to give your testimony against your father’s actions to Hoseok so he could be handled appropriately.”

The thought of bringing your father to justice was a foreign concept to you, as up until a few days ago you didn’t quite understand that his views on omegas were terrible, much less illegal. Up until your conversations with Sophie, you believed all omegas had gone through what you had - the sneering, the threats and all the mistreatment. 

“I understand, Your Majesty. I cannot thank you enough for your kindness. But would you allow me one selfish request?”

“Yes?”

“Please, do not fire poor Sophie” you asked, earning yourself a laugh from the king. “She has made for such great company in this room. Please do not punish her for her curiosity.”

Namjoon stood up, still smiling at your request “Very well. No punishment shall be handed. I’m sure you must get lonely here. I’ll ask Sophie to give you a tour of the castle tomorrow so you can get acquainted with the grounds. But for now, I must go.”

“Thank you again, Your Majesty.”

“Please, call me Namjoon.”

You smiled shyly and nodded “Thank you, Namjoon.”

---

Thank you, Namjoon.

Thank you, Namjoon.

Namjoon.

Namjoon.

Nam… Joon…

Would he ever be able to get the sound of his name coming from your lips out his mind? Namjoon groaned, once again unable to find rest all because of you. He had believed that if he kept his distance for a couple of days, maybe he would be free from all the torment your first appearance had caused him and be able to face you and remain level headed.

Needless to say, he had been proven wrong. 

And your little confession surely had not helped. I’ve never been with an alpha or anyone really! Goddesses, why must you say something like that? Why did his alpha purr at the thought of no one ever touching you, for once pleased and satisfied? 

If Jin knew of his thoughts, his friend would give him an earful. Hel, even his own mother would be sure to smack him in the back of his head if she ever caught wind of his less than appropriate thoughts. 

Alas, he could not stop nor understand them and for his own peace of mind he decided to just chalk them up as basic Alpha/Omega attraction. It’s just biology, he told himself whilst lying on his bed that evening. It’s just a passing interest that would blow away in a few days. Your alpha was probably out there looking for you and sooner or later you’d leave his life and estate.

That did not help sooth his purring alpha. Mine, the stupid beast roared inside his chest, I won’t let anyone take my omega away.

Not your omega, he reminded himself, even though the words left a bitter taste behind them. 

He would just have to distance himself again. Just until the memory of his name leaving your lips stopped sending shivers down his spine like a siren’s song. A few days without contact would do him good. He should just leave you alone, after all.

Still, the next morning when you woke up there was a pile of illustrated books on Adamas waiting for you outside the door.

°•. ✿ .•°

✿ The next chapter called "Breathless" is already available on my ko-fi to Calcifer Crew, my membership tier, and will be posted here soon! Click here if you want early access to all my updates :)

✿ My taglists are open! Click here to be added <3

[itsak9catastrophe]

A BIG list of entirely free games therians and alterhumans can get !!! This isn't like an ad for them or anything, but when i was younger i never really had games that fit my theriotypes :( so why not start now!! this is in no real order.

These are all games where you play AS the animal, most of them being semirealistic? They're all free, so they aren't super realistic sorry!!! These are all also games i find on my tablet, so im not sure if they're available on pc!!

Wildcraft: As of today, Wildcraft updates every once and awhile, usually for the Wildpass thing they do almost weekly[? i took a large break from this game, forgive me if im misremembering.] Wildcraft was made by Turbo Rocket Games in early 2018. The multiplayer servers arent as active as they used to be, but it's still fun to play with friends sometimes!! I usually play in singleplayer though!! (Also, there is a settings option to make it first person, and one to hide the buttons!)

Playable Animals: Right now there are 12 land animals: Wolf [Default], Fox [Common], Lynx, Bear, Lion [Rares], Cheetah, Horse, Eagle, Crocodile, Tiger, Gorilla, and Kangaroo! [Ledgendaries], all of which are obtainable through the chests!! There are also 9 transformations [which are more difficult to get !!]: Raccoon, Deer, Hippo, Giraffe, Gazelle, Hyena, Rhino, Parrot, and Snake! There are also 5 Sea creatures: Dolphin [default], Stingray [Rare], Shark, Seal, and Sea turtle! You can have up to eight family members for every animal, who are also customizable! [not including transformations]

Customizability: There are TONS of skins and accessories for every animal, and you can adjust the size of their body parts, making your character entirely customizable! There are also LOTS of pets!

I give it a solid 10/10!! I've loved this game since it came out!! Me and my brother @whisperrdrrop [hii] played it like the year it came out!! I highly recommend playing this one ! >w< The community also has tons of fun creepypastas, and though the only real one is 'Niddhogg,' it's super fun to just learn about them!

Wolf Tales (Home & Heart (IT MIGHT BE 'WILD ANIMAL SIM' NOW IDK)): (The icon may have changed, my ipad doesn't update icons very much!!!) As of Today, Wolf Tales has basically stopped updating from what i can see. However this doesn't take away from the fun of it!! The game was created around 2020 by Foxie Ventures. Servers are multiplayer by default, but there is a singleplayer option!

Playable Animals: There are currently only 5 animals: Wolf, Fox, Bear, Wild/Big cat, and Dragon! All are unlocked by playing through the quests, though you can use moonstones (ingame 'rare' currency) to auto-buy most of them! Your families/packs are grown through opening chests and breeding!

Customizability: There are quite a few skins for every animal, ranging in rarity. you can obtain skins through buying the 'summoning' of the animal you'd like with moonstones and getting a random skin, or buying one directly. Skins are also not changeable! Let's say you're a grey wolf, and you get the sand wolf skin. You would have to enter your den and find that skin, and switch into that one, meaning it could have a different level! There are also LOTS of pets, though i do not remember how to get them. The only way to change your character is through changing limb sizes, there are no accessories!!

I give it a nice little 9/10, as much as i love this game i don't play it too often, but it really is fun! I think i got this game when it came out, and it was really fun watching the game and the community grow and change!! When i joined, not every player had a jump button, and there was this cool feature called 'Clans' (replaced by the player clans, sadly :() where there were 5 packs that you had to either defeat the alpha of or become besties with, and you'd get a packmate of any rarity from them daily!! My bestie pack was called 'the moonrise pack' and the #1 public enemy was 'The tooth pack' or something. I definitely recommend it :3!!

Ultimate Wolf/Fox/Forest/Savanna/Dinosaur/Cat/Shark/Bird/Jungle Simulator: they made a LOT of these games. These are only the ones that are free on my tablet, but im also seeing 'ocean,' 'dog,' 'arctic,' and 'lion' simulators for a dollar, you'd have to check and see if those are free. I'm mostly focusing on the WOLF simulator here, because i do NOT want to download all of those games. There is no multiplayer option for any of them. All made by gluten free games, no idea the release dates.

Playable Animals: The animals depend on which game you get. I know forest has bears, Savanna has cheetahs, Dinosaur has T-rex, triceratops, and ankylosaurus, bird has parrots and eagles, and jungle has tigers, but these are definitely not every animal !!

Customizability: you unlock a skin for every few levels, and you can tint them, but that's about it. For every game. There's like... 8-15 for most?

I give it a 7/10. As much as i do really, really love this game and all the memories playing it, it's really not the most entertaining game out there. If you're really bored and have nothing to do, sure, go wild with it!!

Dog Sim: I just got this game and it's so silly !! Made by Turbo Rocket Games in 2016, the multiplayer servers are surprisingly still decently active! Obviously it doesn't update anymore.

Playable Animals: The only animals in these are: (you guessed it) dogs. There's a single skin that... might? be a wolf, and there's two robo dog skins. There's a total of 38 skins!

Customizability: The only thing you can customize is your breed, sorry!

Other than that, theres a LOT to play with! With 5 bosses, 25 enemy/prey creatures, 1 map, 1 den, a max level of 200, a maximum family size of 4, 20 achievements, and 30 quests, there's plenty to do!

I give it a nice 8/10, the only points taken being because the game itself isnt the highest quality, and the models arent all 10/10, but it's still a really silly game! I do recommend it :)

Cat simulator - animal life: created in 2019 by Pocket Games entertainment, i think this one is pretty cute! With active multiplayer servers!!

Playable Animals: Just kitties! silly little kitties on big adventures!!

Customizability: Lots of cute skins and accessories!!!

There are tons of quests, camp upgrades, and more included in this!!

I didn't play this one for too long, but there are some pvp servers aswell. Overall really cute game, not too buggy/laggy! 10/10 :3

Wild Cougar Sim (3D): Another game made by Turbo Rocket games before their big success that was Wildcraft, Cougar Sim was created in 2015 (I think? I'm only finding the youtube trailer, dont be afraid to correct me.) I'm not seeing an option for multiplayer unfortunately :(!

Playable Animals: Yeah, It's just Cougars! What did you expect?

Customizability: With eight skins (Must be purchased with ingame currency), 9 coat marking options (Almost like tattoos!) including a Shark, Wolf, Lizard, Scorpion, Butterfly and Bird (Phoenix?), and options to change body/limb sizes, there's actually really good customization here!

With 3 unlockable family members, 30 quests, 20 achievements, 18 enemy/prey creatures, 4 biomes, and 8 dens, there is plenty to keep yourself busy with here! That accompanied by the fact that this isn't even a bad looking game, i honestly give it a nice 10/10! Very cute game, not much lag, pretty good in terms of realism, it's pretty cool!! :)

Dragon Sim Online: Yet another game made by Turbo Rocket in 2016, i quite like this one! With semi-active multiplayer servers!!

Playable Animals: Quite a few different types of Dragons, varying in element, colour, and breeds!

Customizability: With 4 elements, 46 (VERY pretty) skins, and limb/body adjustment sliders, you can customize your dragon pretty well!

Similar to both Cougar Sim and Dog Sim, Dragon Sim has plenty to offer: 30 quests, 20 achievements, 27 enemy/prey creatures, 3 bosses, 6 islands and 4[?] dens, there's plenty there to keep you busy! another 10/10 from me :)