#what can you expect from abo dynamics

[yeyinde]

old, grizzled retired alpha!Price who gets stuck in his cabin with omega!Reader when the winter roads, the only way in and out of his domain, melt with the encroaching spring. and really. what's an alpha like him supposed to do when an untouched, unclaimed omega like you—so sweet, so desperate—is thrown headfirst into a vicious, blistering heat without any suppressants. it's not like either of you really have a choice, after all.

dub con; age difference; power imbalance; rough sex; size difference, size kink; abo dynamics: knotting; breeding kink (astronomical); mean!Price, Dom!Price; unsafe sex; oral (f!receiving); slight innocence kink; implied kidnapping; coercion; slight baby trapping; possessive, greedy Price pulling strings from behind the scenes, as per usual. this is basically Alpha John Price knotting Omega Reader in mating press, bullying you into submission

It's an accident, of course. 

An unfortunate combination of poor timing and human error.

But this accident culminates in Price folding his body over you—mating press, you note a touch hysterically; you'd have expected him to be all tradition: presenting to an alpha on your hands and knees, cunt bare for the taking, waiting to be claimed. And while it might not be traditional, Price will claim you tonight. Bully his cock into your drenched cunt, split you wide on the thick of him, on his knot (fuck, fuck, fuck—), and keep you plugged up around him until the unexpected heat passes. 

And really. What's an old, grizzled alpha like him supposed to do when an untouched, unclaimed omega like you—so sweet, so desperate—is thrown headfirst into a vicious, blistering heat. It's not like either of you really have a choice, after all. It's agony. It's want. Primal, instinctual. You need him. Ache with it. The urge, the desperation, to be filled. Claimed. Conquered. Owned.

As he presses bluntly against your drenching slit, notching heavy and insistent into your fluttering, aching hole, spilling slick in thick rivulets down your thighs, over the engorged head of his cock, you can't help but wonder how could you be so stupid? 

“Spread your legs for me.”

The command rolls off of his tongue, slips—liquid, molten—down his chin, where it dangles for a moment. Pebbled hest. A globbing demand. You want to roll away when it starts to fall, unspooling slowly until it drips down to your chest, but you can't. You're stuck. Trapped. All you can do is watch helplessly as this barking order, matchstick casuistry, touches your kerosene-slick skin, igniting in a bloom of fire that spreads, rapidly, through your veins. Your body. 

An Alpha's whim must be met. Even this one. This one—

Your former chief, boss. Now retired in the mountains, chiselling out a little place for himself in a corrie, pitching this log bivouac beside a marbled blue tarn. Cut off from the rest of civilisation every spring when the only way in—and out—melted into a raging, uncrossable stretch of river. The ravine frothing too furiously for boats to dock safely on either side. Trapped here with him until next winter—

(oh god oh god—)

You don't know how it got to this point. Scorched. Soaked. With him leaning over you, in all his tartarean glory, making demands of your body as easily as pulling on loose thread between his thick fingers. 

You could blame Gaz for this. 

Sat pretty at his desk, idling a jar of gun oil in his hands. Your gun is spread out on the desk, taken apart. Worrying his lip between his teeth, he said, “someone should check in on Price. Haven't heard from him in a while.” 

Through a quick game of hierarchy, that someone ended up being you. Forced to trek halfway up a mountain just to make sure your mercurial boss didn't die over the winter. Bitten off more than he could chew and too much of a proud Alpha to admit defeat, and call for help. 

You had enough suppressants to last you there and back. Three days. One in the morning, one in the afternoon. Price, despite his surly disposition, is an intense Alpha to be around—

Even for Betas. 

Some, unintentionally, succumb to his whims without even a forethought spared on rationality. It's innate. He says something, and people listen—

Like now. Hours after you discovered your suppressants were gone, and his heavy, cloying scent thickened in the air, suffocating you. When he leaned against the thick log doorframe on the porch of his cabin, thick arms folded across his broad chest, murmured, “come all this way just to see me?” and all at once, the world fell out from under you—

Plunging you into his arms, his embrace. His growl in your ear, “you’re in heat,” he grunted, fists balled against your sides. “fuckin’ Christ—” and the death sentence he imparted on you: “either I take care of this, or your heat becomes too much for me, and I tear you to pieces. But it doesn't matter does it, mm? You can't make it back down in this state,” more snarling anger, dry heat. Scorching. His chin jerked to the river at the foot of the mountain. “In a few hours, It’ll be melted through. Uncrossable.”

Per usual, John Price leaves you very little room for choice, doesn't he? 

Slowly, shakily, your pitched knees part, unveiling your bare cunt to the man towering over you with a condescending coo on his lips, red-hot desire in his smouldering Tartarean eyes. 

“Tha’s it,” he murmurs, voice full of sarky delight. “Such a good omega for me, aren't you?”

It’s not meant to be answered—the jeer chock full of hyperbole. Despite this, your body responds instantly. Back arching, legs spreading out wider around the bulk of his frame, nearly flush against the warmed fur covering the floor of the cabin—wolf, he muttered proudly before he pushed you down against the soft pelt, mouthing teasing at your jaw. Chest heaving. Fingers curling, knotting into the pelt. 

The urge to present for him is intense. An unanswerable call when he pins you down on your back, body a cage keeping you trapped where you lay. Open, inviting. All for him. 

This surly, awful man—

His hands are rough, padded with calluses and hard, jagged scars that jut up from his flesh. It feels abrasive, sandpaper grit, when he leans down, hand pressed against your knee. The drag, then, when he lets it drop down the skin of your inner thigh, makes you keen in the back of your throat. Gnarled palms bleed heat into your soft skin. The contrast is dizzying—size, scale, texture; it all leaves you breathless. Victim to your own instincts, ones that scream at you to roll over. To run. To make this massive, virile alpha yours—

He cups your pussy in the palm of his hand, heel pressed against your clit, fingers sliding between your slit, touching your entrance with the tip of his middle finger. The way the length of it swallows you whole, long, thick fingers reaching beneath you, grazing the cheeks of your ass, sets you on fire in a way you've never felt before. 

Price sees it. He must. He leans back on his haunches, broad chest heaving as he stares, transfixed, at his hand folding over you, wrist propped against your mons. 

He groans low in his chest. When he speaks, desire scorches his words to cinders. 

“Ever had an Alpha's cock here?” 

His question is scorching. 

In a small town, choice is slim. The ratio of alpha to omega, and beta to both, is skewed highly in the latter's favour. You think, Price included, there are maybe five eligible alphas in the whole township. Two omegas, yourself included. Everyone else—

Unbothered, unburdened by this horrific anomaly of genetics, of lingering animal instinct. A relic of when people were more beast than man. 

But even with that, the suitors lining up ready to claim you since you arrived three years ago is negligible. Nearly nonexistent. 

The shame of it is absurd. You know without any shadow of a doubt that your worth is not measured by the number of Alpha's wanting to claim you, but that prickling unease in the back of your head won't be quelled by common sense. Who cares, you want to scream. Who fucking cares—

“No,” you bluster; choking on your anger, your shame. Despite being an omega—rare as they are—everyone in town seemed soured by your scent. Adverse to the pungent pheromones you released innately. 

“No?” He echoes, and the stab of worthlessness needling into your pericardium makes you want to howl, want to cry. 

He doesn't let you. He leans down, hand resting on the floor beside your head, the other still anchored to your cunt, and presses his lips to the shell of your ear. His breath is a humid kiss that tickles across your flesh. 

“Good.” 

The praise bubbles in your marrow. You melt under the heat, whimpering. Head lulling to the side, exposing your neck. Offered up for him to take. 

He huffs, chest expanding. The coarse bed of hair tangled on his sternum in a smattering of black catches on your nipples, the rough graze making you gasp, soundless, into the humid space between your bodies. Aching already and he barely touched you. 

Price follows the twist of your chin, lips pressed flush to your ear. With him crowding so close, you can feel the rumble, the low vibration, through his chest before he even speaks. A soft purr, sultry and rich. Pulling you deeper into the throes of your submission with a startling ease. 

“I don't share, and I'd hate to have to tear another alpha apart for touching you,” his beard scrapes against your cheek, words soaked in possessive fury at the thought alone. “You're mine.”

You want to fight against it. Against him. No one owns you. Has claimed you.

You have only ever belonged to yourself. 

“M’not—”

Price shushes you with a nip, blunt teeth dragging down the plush flesh of your earlobe. “Don't fight it, love. Just—give in.”

You won't. Can't—

Despite the heat—heavy, oppressive, and wet, like the balmy swelter of a tropical jungle; bubbling dross on molten metal—you fight. Rage. Push back against the heady scent he exudes, ones meant to soothe, melt. Until you're malleable. Tensile. Mouldable to fit his needs, his desires, his cock. Putty in his scorching hands. 

It bleeds through, though—noxious and potent. The acrid miasma of a wild, untameable man: leather, hide, and animal rot; bleached bones; felled timbre. A wet forest after a wildfire; charred wood, argillaceous soil. Damp. Cloying. Choking. 

Reeking of authoritative power, he leans over you, breathes in the heaving exhales you let out. Lets the taste of you sit on his tongue, curl between his crooked teeth. 

He's close like this. All fire, all heat. And underneath the scent of a pursuing alpha, you pick up hints of him. Of what he smelled like before, when you were his subordinate and he spent most of his days making yours miserable. Stale smoke, wet tobacco, old leather, dry whiskey. 

You hate how much it calls to you. 

Maybe sensing your defiance, or growing tired of this push-pull game, he huffs out a breath that sounds less aggrieved than you'd want it to, full of playful amusement. Like he expected this. Like he knew you'd fight back with brittle fists and wicked teeth. 

Price pulls back, leaning against his haunches. Content now to devour you at a distance. His eyes leave a scorching trail from your heaving breast, your quivering stomach before fixing once again on the way your pussy is swallowed by his hand. His middle finger circles your sopping hole. The tease is a burst of pleasure, of sensation. A tickle, a taunt. The drag of it makes a loud, sticky noise; the unmistakable slosh, the squelch of just how wet you are for him. 

And it is for him. All for him. 

Your heat is an incipient bloom on the horizon—a slow, crawling sunrise. You shouldn't be this slick yet. This drenched. 

The embarrassment blisters through you when he makes a choked sound in the back of his throat. A loan bitten, swallowed before it can fully form. 

Price coos, voice scorched. Full of char. “All’fer me, mm? Such a good little omega.”

You hate it. Hate it, hate it, hate it—

—but nearly choke yourself on a moan. 

He chuckles, dark and rich. The sound entirely too similar to crushing a fistful of charcoal, and you're reminded suddenly why he's unmated at the age he is. 

Surly bastard. As approachable as a fucking grizzly bear in a rut. 

Your lips twist, jerking downward. “Fuck you—”

He circles your rim once more, chuffing low as he does so, letting the slick noise of your soaked cunt speak on his behalf. 

You bite back a snarl, letting it fizzle out in the back of your throat. However reckless you might be, however much you might dislike him, he's still an alpha. Snarling in his face would only get you bent over his knee (at best). 

And at worst, well. Maybe they'll find whatever is left of you next spring. 

Next spring. 

Thinking about just how long you're trapped here with him—no phone, no service—makes you want to cry. To break down, to—

No. You can't. Won't. Not in front of him. 

Not Price. The awful man who spent three years picking away at everything you've ever done. Writing you up for every little misstep. You wondered then, and you still wonder now, if he hated you because you were an omega who dared to work with him, as his equal, or if his brand of distaste was just for you. 

(The latter, it must be—he’s always been so kind to Alex, an older omega. 

You're just the exception.)

This sprawling train of thought is clipped when he sinks his finger into you, to the second knuckle, and you choke. 

“Ah, fuck, don't—”

He curls his finger. “Protest as much as you'd like, but if you didn't want this, your pussy wouldn't be this fuckin’ wet would it, love?”

He's right. You hate him for it. 

But he doesn't give you a chance to complain. He slips his finger out, the wet drag of your flesh pulling on him, unwilling to let go, is loud. Awful. You burn hot—hotter still when he groans at the noise. 

“Such a good girl for me, ain't you?” 

Price circles your entrance as he says it, pressing two fingers against your rim, rubbing. Gathering slick. You wish it didn't feel as good as it did—electric shocks of pleasure sparking at his touch, but the feel of it is a tease. You want more. Much more—

He presses those long, thick fingers inside again. Two this time. All you can do is mewl around the sudden stretch, the sting. 

Your discomfort is a palpable thing. Unease, distress—the acid scent plumes around you, leaking from your pores. Price stops suddenly, fingers still crooked in a half knot inside you. 

“You're tight,” he drawls, jowls working. Tensing. His eyes flash, heat lightning. “You—”

He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes narrowing into slits. They drop down to where he disappears inside of you, flesh stretched tight around him. Drilling into the way the slick runs down his fingers, over his knuckles, drenching the back of his hand, and he hums. 

“Has anyone ever touched you here before?”

More shame. It bubbles in your chest, this awful, insidious thing. 

It hasn't been for a lack of suitors, really. But rather, other things have always taken precedence over heats, over ruts. School, then your career. And well—

Betas around here don't seem very interested, either. 

Maybe you have peculiar wants. Urges, needs, that you've always been hesitant to fill. A wellspool of desire that runs deep, vicious. You want to mate. For keeps. 

Maybe they can scent that on you. A loud cry that says, stay away. 

You take a shuddering breath before nodding shallowly, twisting your head away so you don't have to look at the patronising gleam swirling in frothing Tryhennian. 

“Look at me.”

The command bludgeons your resolve. Your chin jerks back immediately. Desperate to obey. To listen. Frantic with the urge to quell the alpha, to soothe his plight—

But where you expect anger, you're met with the most peculiar sort of expression etching itself into his brow, his rugged face. 

His lips parted, lax. The picture of surprise.

Your eyes widen. A gasp is ripped from your throat at the raw, fractured look in his eyes. It's new, this. Unexpected. Where you anticipated scorn is instead a slow, unwinding look of want, of greed, so thick, it glues to the air. 

Patchwork hunger, predatory and damning, hews into your skin. Fine needles piercing, pricking, along your flesh. 

Branded ownership. You feel it settle against your chest. Dig in when his chest expands with his, hissing inhale. 

There's a dark tremble to his shoulders that makes your toes curl. 

“I should take this slow, then, mm? Prep you. Get you nice and ready for my cock,” his words have you keening, arching for him. Achingly empty. His hand lifts, settles against your quivering stomach. The slightest pressure makes you shake, quieten; submitting to the touch. “But. I don't have the patience for that.” 

He slots his thighs between your legs, pressing it tight against your cunt. The pressure—blissful pleasure; frantic at the touch—is almost your undoing, but there's a plexiglass between full submission and the urge to flee. Still. The heat is rapacious. The desire, the yearning, doesn't abate. 

The haze is thick. So thick. It would be easy to slip under the veil, to let yourself go. To give in—

"Easy, omega," it comes out as a guttural rasp; the charcoaled command uttered in a mockingly placating tone. The sort one might use to soothe a wild animal or a startled mare. Fitting, of course, when you're rutting against the thick spread of his thigh, leaking slick all over him.

down girl, he doesn't say, but he might as well have because you're clenched tight around nothing, aching hollowly in a way that rings through your bones. You can't help it, you want to whine when he huffs, lips pulling downward in a frown. Disappointed in you, perhaps. But how do you fight instinct when you're hardwired to want to spread your legs at the pungent, lour stench of a virile alpha's incipient rut, the briny tang of his pre-cum saturating the air. A heady elixir that sends shockwaves of agonising need through your body.

It's too much. The burn of your heat is a vicious, deadly combatant. Knife to your jugular, hand around your throat, it demands compliance. 

And when he reaches down to his stained slacks, drawing your eye to the tent in the front, to the dark pool at the front where he leaks his spend into the fabric, you keen. Jealousy scorching through you instantly at the sight; animal instinct that makes you want to bare your teeth at it because his cum is just for you, all for you—

Amusement pierces the air. Punctuates it with the heavy, noxious weight of his satisfaction. 

He hums, reaches into his slacks. Curls his fist around the thick of himself. 

“Want this, don't you?” 

You gnash your teeth against your desperation, legs popping open further. Inviting. Eager. 

“Of course you do. Want this—” he frees his cock, pulling it over the band of his trousers, and you choke. 

It's wet with his spend, and angry looking. The mushroomed head engorged, swollen. Flushed a deep vermillion. Veins run the length of it. Pulsing with his need. His want. 

Price groans, strokes his hand down his shaft. Pearlescent beads of pre-cum bubble up from the tip. 

You ache. Suddenly, viciously. Hollow. Empty. You want him. Need him—

“Yeah? Want this fat cock inside of you, mm?”

And you, finally, give in—

"Please, please, Price—"

"No." He taps the head of his cock against your clit once, twice. A warning. A reprimand. You keen at the whitehot agony, the unfathomable burn of pleasure ripping through your body. He coos into it. Echoing your whimper with a derisive snort. Mocking. Cruel. You hate him. Hate him. Need him so badly you think you might go insane if he doesn't pry you apart right this instant—

"I'll give you my knot when I'm good and ready. Now, be good for me, mm?” His eyes are dark in the harsh flicker of the wood stove. Burning liquid black. Molten puddles of crushed sapphire. You hate the way he looks at you. Hate how it makes you want to roll over on your belly, soft and submissive, giving all of yourself over to this terrible man. “That's it. Good omegas get what they want. Bad ones get punished. And I don't think you'll like being taken over my knee, would you?"

His words send a fresh wave of heat through your veins. Hellfire. Scorching. You want to blame the fever on the stove burning away in the corner of the room, on a sickness you can't scrape off of your bones no matter how many times you chisel into your skin. An infection eating away at you from the inside out. 

But it's futile. He doesn't care about your excuses. He never has—

“Spread yourself. Go on and show me that pretty cunt you want me to ruin so badly.” 

Unspooled, liquid under his bulk, you don't even hesitate before your fingers unfurl from their fight knot in the fur, making a slow, timorous crawl down the supine length of your sun-scorched body. 

Your flesh feels foreign, like it belongs to a stranger. To someone else. Each touch is a phantom whisper gliding along sweat-slicked skin; new and different, and not yours. 

Not yours at all because your skin would never prickle with goosebumps over the sight of your chief kneeling between your legs, the hair on his thigh matted, slick with your wetness. The unruly black thatch darkening into a patch where you shamelessly rutted against him, eagerly seeking friction over the place you ache the most. 

For him. All for him. 

It's impossible. Impossible. And yet—

As your fingers curl over the tops of your thighs, notching into the soft, heated flesh at the bend of your hip and groin, you feel just how soaked you are for him. How wet. How eager. It stains your skin, reaches almost down your bent knees. Beneath you is a puddle drenching the fur. 

Your fingers slip, sliding in the mess you made. You flush when he huffs, humoured by it all, and dip your chin away from the scorching, piercing look in his cerulean eyes, drilling holes in the apex of your thighs. Greedily taking in his fill as your fingers glide over your sopping folds, gingerly parting them. Presenting to him on your back. Ripe for the taking. 

“One hand,” he rasps, words clicking in his throat. He holds his hand up, curling his fingers down and leaving his index and middle finger up in a pointed V. “And the other—” he swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing. “I want you to touch your clit for me.” 

You follow his instructions, slipping your fingers between your folds, opening yourself up for him. Your other hand sits on your mons, fingertips brushing your swollen clit as heat floods you. Electric. Each touch is a shock of pleasure roiling down your spine, and more slick dribbles out of you, dripping down your aching, empty hole, down your ass, until it soaks into the furs below. 

The scent of a needy omega fills the air. Your scent. 

Where most are sweet, supple, yours has always had a bite. A tartness to it, an earthy tang. Boysenberry. Loam. Lemongrass. Beeswax. You bluster. Flushing. Embarrassment plumes up, mushrooming in the air—smoked orange peels, coral berry sour—and you wonder if he's repelled by it, this strange smell of yours—

Price’s head rolls back, nose pitched in the air. Breathing in deep, groaning with his exhale. Eyes fluttering, flashing. He eats it clean from the air. Mouth dropping open, panting. 

It's then when the unmistakable musk of a pleased Alpha—smoked tobacco and sage—clots beside your scent do you feel the prickle of free will hewing into your periphery. 

None of what he demanded of you carried the unignorable weight of a command. Before you can even think of the ramifications of that, he's moving. Heavy body falling, sliding down the furs. His hands come to rest, hot and firm, on your knees, spreading you wider, wider, to fit the boxy heft of his broad body between them. 

He hovers over you, head bending to fit in the brackets of your thighs. Leading with nose, nostrils flaring, fluttering, as he pulls in deep lungfuls of your scent. Over and over, and—

His head bows. Humid air ghosting over your sopping cunt when he exhales. It's then when he dips his chin further, further, until the bottom of his face is flush with your pussy, mouth parting around a groan that reverberates through the floorboards, rattles your bones. 

“You smell s’fuckin’ good, love,” he rasps, choked. His eyes are gyres. They might just swallow you whole. You fight back a shiver, resolve threadbare. Stitches coming apart. “Bet you'd taste even better.”

It's all the warning you get before he pushes his face into you, mouth dropping open to let his tongue lull out. Licking a scorching stripe from hole to clit. And, oh—

Oh. 

Your head drops, eyes slipping closed at the liquid feeling between your thighs. The whitehot sensation of his tongue laving across your slit. 

So this—this—is what you've been missing out on. Pure feeling. Molten. It blooms in your loins, knots tight like a spooled bow. 

Your fingertips are in the way from him pressing his tongue flat against your clit, where you throb the most, and you move to pull your hand away. To give him access to everything, all of it. Every part of you he wants. It's all his, his, so long as he keeps doing what he's doing with his mouth, his tongue—

But his hand slashes through the air, snatching your wrist in a vice grip. Stopping your retreat. You whimper, hips flexing up, wanting his mouth. Needing more of what he's doing between your thighs. 

“Look at me,” he demands. You obey. Instantly. His eyes are black holes. Everdark. Eclipsed, totally, by the bleed of his black pupils spreading out. You moan, thighs parting wider, wider. “Good girl. Such a good omega for me, aren't you?”

He doesn't let you answer. Draws your wet fingers to his mouth, pressing the pads against his lower lip, nails scratching his teeth. He breathes in, shoulders bunching up. Eyes fluttering again, rolling back in his head. And it's divine—

To have such a surly, contemptuous Alpha on his knees for you, fat, heavy cock drooping between his thighs, spitting a steady stream of spend onto the floor. Wasteful. You keen again, back arching. Needy. Wanting—

Price sucks in your fingers, tongue laving between your knuckles. The pressure, the feeling, is good. You like this. Like his mouth. 

But your fingers are not where you want him. 

“Please, Price. Please—”

He pulls off with a pop. Leans his cheek on your inner thigh. 

“What do you want? Use your words, omega.”

Heat blooms in your chest, but you're long past the point of embarrassment anymore. Shame. It's all awash under the torrent of need. Desire. Swept in the rage of your heat. Nearly rendered delirious by it. 

“Want your mouth.”

“Where?”

“M–my—” you swallow, fingers spreading your folds wider. Opening yourself up to him. He glances down, nostrils flaring once again. But he doesn't move. Won't. You groan, head rolling back. “My pussy. Please. Want your mouth on my pussy, Price—”

He groans, low. Dark. But then he's moving. Head bowing. His tongue is scorching. Whitehot. He drags it through your folds, teasing at your rim. Presses it inside, just a touch, a shallow thrust. And—

Ah. 

You make a noise in the back of your throat. Awful, wet. Choking. The feeling of his tongue inside of you is good. Beyond words. 

It slips in more. The full length. Stuffed. You keen, arching. Aching. Hips flexing, jerking against his mouth. He lets you ride his face like this, fucking your hole with his fat tongue, nose glued tight to your clit. 

All you can do is sob his name, fingers curling, knotting, into his damp hair, holding him close. 

His tongue leaves you, sliding up your seam until it cups your clit. Laves over it. He lifts his chin, and seals his mouth over you. Sucks—

The spool unravels. Pressure released. You flood around him, on him. Pussy gushing slick over his chin, drenching him. Drowning him. 

Lips sealed over your throbbing clit, he moans low. Deep. Eyes rolling back in his head. Gyre blue. 

“Tha’s it,” he coos, pushing two thick fingers inside your throbbing cunt. “Think you're about ready for my cock, ain't you?” 

He doesn't let you answer. And—

You don't think you can form a coherent thought. Running on sensation. On instinct. You make to roll over on your belly, ass pushed into the air, ready for his knot, but he stops you. Hands squeezing your hips. Firm. 

“No. I'll take you like this.” 

And it's hard to reconcile the urge to present with his demands. His wants. You whimper. He answers it with a grunt. 

“Stay still.” 

You flatten to the fur, body melting. Lax. 

“Good girl.”

The praise is a serrated knife to your jugular, cutting a jagged line across your skin. Spilling blood. You quieten under his bulk, now. Desperate. Docile. Collared in blood. 

His hands push behind your knees, lifting your legs. Pushing, pushing. Until they rest under your ears. Spread open for him. Ready to be claimed, owned. Bred. 

“Price, Price, please—”

He shushes you with a coo, pitching your heels over his shoulders. Shuffling closer until his heavy cock, hanging thick and fat between his legs, bumps against your ass. Your cunt. You whimper, back arching. Needing him to fill you up. Split you apart. 

Ruin you—

“Gonna fuck you now. Knot you.”

It's a warning. A threat. You feel it trail over your skin, branding. A collar. You lift your chin, letting it settle there. So long as he makes you feel this good, he can do whatever he wants to you. Anything—

And so, he does. 

His cock is a heavy weight against you, pressing. Pushing. He doesn't wait for you to adjust, for your body to acclimate to the burning stretch of him splitting you apart. 

Your slick aids in the brutal onslaught of his cock prying your untouched flesh apart, chiselling open a space just for him to fit. 

It should hurt more. And maybe it would if you weren't drowning in the throes of a vicious heat, numbed to everything but the way his cock feels as it slides, inch after inch, inside of you. Thick, fat. Pulsing. You pant shallowly, head turning. Chin pressing into your shoulder. 

It's good. This burn, this ache. This madness—

“Christ—” he spits, sounding almost angry. Furious. You peer up at him, eyes wet with unshed tears. Through the murky haze, you catch the clench of his jaw, the prominent divot between his brows. Face tightening with pleasure. Rapturous. “This cunt was made for me, wasn't it, love?”

“Yes—” it's breathless. An airless whisper. “All yours, all yours, John—”

You repeat this as he reaches halfway inside of you. As he bends down, mouth feverish he slots it greedily over your lips in a bruising, sloppy kiss. You mutter it against his teeth, his tongue. He swallows your acquiescence, your submission, down with a moan. Drinks you in as he takes, takes, until you're full of him. Stuffed. 

John bottoms out with a moan that trembles down your throat, balls pressed flush against your ass. Split apart on him. Claimed. 

He settles, letting you adjust to the sensation. Content to simply mouth sloppy kisses over your face, your cheek, jaw. Nipping your skin. Basking in this, in finally having you stretched around him. His pleasure is ripe in the air. Heavy and acrid. Smoked leather. Fresh, and heady. 

It's novice, this feeling. This pressure. This fullness. Your hand drops, falls, palm sliding between his heavy, hairy belly, resting over yours. Feeling the unmistakable bump of him rearranging your anatomy to fit—barely—in you. 

He lifts up, elbow dropping to the floor beside your head so he, too, can feel for himself the way he fits within you. His hand comes to lay beside yours, flattening over the bulge of him protruding from your flesh. His cock jerks inside of you, twitching. The feeling makes your toes curl, your cunt throb. 

“Like that, huh?” 

Your nod is slowly, languorous. Everything feels unreal. Like you're staring at the world from underwater. Inky. Fractured. Raw. 

The burn of the stretch is there, throbbing like a bruise. A contusion. He scents the sting, the ache, and slides his hand down, cupped over your swollen, stuffed pussy. Fingers tangling into the thick bed of curls grazing your mons. Price quells the burn with a swipe of his thumb rolling over your clit. 

It has you clenching, tightening even further around him. Feeling the thick stretch thrumming inside of you. Plugging you up. And fuck—

If that doesn't just light you up from the inside out. Supernova. Blistering heat. 

Pieces of yourself chip off, fluttering to the soft, downy fur below you with each heavy breath he takes. Your heat swells to a crescendo, breaking over the edge of your lingering cognisance. It's all sensation now. Pure, unfettered feeling.

And Price takes no time at all to exploit it. To batter your melting, liquid body into submission even further. 

It starts with shallow grinds against the plug of your womb. Carving more space inside of you for him to fit, to ruin. 

He fucks you like this. Cock heavy and fat inside of you. Giving you the full length until your rim catches on the burgeoning swell of his knot. Over and over again. Pulling deep, delirious moans from your throat. Breaking you to pieces on the spread of him seated deep. Tugging more and more compliance from your body, wringing pleasure out of every nerve ending. 

The sounds are horrific, and had you any sense of self left to mull over them, your shame, embarrassment, would have burned you alive. The wet squelch of your cunt swallowing him down, over and over and over again—

“Needy little pussy,” he bites out, blunt teeth skirting over your pulse point. A tease. 

The press of them heightens everything, elevating it to a tipping point. 

This is what you were made for. What every atom in your body screams out to. Wanting. Needing to be spread out under him, this dark, awful man. 

“I'm not going to claim you,” he's saying, words wet against your temple, tongue snaking out to catch the droplets of sweat beading on your hairline. 

It makes you whine in dismay, desperate for his teeth buried in your skin. 

“No, no, please—! I need it, John, I need it—”

“Then beg me. Beg for it—”

You do. It babbles out of you. Broken, fractured. Pleas, orisons, screamed to heavens; aching for his teeth on you, in you. Claiming you for his own. You want it more than you think you've ever wanted anything in your whole thing. Half of you, empty and vacant, hollow, begging to be filled. To be completed. 

And really—

You've felt it from the beginning. This stirring, agonising want. Desire. A bone-deep yearning for the man who looked at you, up and down, and dismissed you with a charred scoff and shallow shake of his head. 

“What's a little omega like you doin’ runnin’ around the woods, love? Ought to be at home—”

Where you belong. 

It didn't make sense at the time. He's so different with everyone else—Alex, Farah—but reserves his scorn, his discrimination, just for you. Special little thing, aren't you? 

But even still. Still. You tried. Struggled against the crushing weight of his derision, burying your fingers into the rubble, clinging on for three, devastating years until your nails broke, bled. Left stains on the pavement. Until he, stiff-lipped and clipped, told you he was retiring. Escaping the loose binds of a non-existent town on the fringes of civilisation for the sanctum of the wild, untamed forest. The mountains. 

You wanted him to say, come with me, even if you might have gouged his eyes out for even asking. Tore his still-beating heart out with your bare hands. 

But instead, he nodded at you. A quiet goodbye. Left you bewildered, furious, and unclaimed, unwanted, and now—

Those blood-stained fingers dig into the softness of his nape, biting flesh until it gives, breaks, under the jagged stumps of your nails, and you wrench him forward, into you, snarling mad. Apoplectic with fury at being denied so long. 

“Fuck you,” you bite out, brittle with ire. Disobedient even through the noxious curdle of heat subduing your senses. Your rationale. “Fuck you, John—!”

His skin breaks first. The bitter scent of hot, wet pavement, pennies in the summer sun, sickly sweet iron, fills the balmy cabin. He groans, choked, throat bobbing, jaw clenching. You don't let him get anything out. 

You pull him by the scruff of his neck into you, face buried in your collarbones. Heels dig in, sliding along the slick sweat of his broad back. Finding purchase against the knob of his spine, and pressing. Pushing. Kicking at him until he slots his hips into yours, pressed as deep as he could possibly go. Throbbing inside of you. Spitting molten spend as he wrenches you open. 

The first person to ever do so. 

He must know this, feel it simmering in the air, because he groans low, deep. It bubbles out of his chest, a half-bitten snarl saturated in the smoke of his desire. Feverish, possessive. 

“Mate me,” you demand, head tilting back into the awaiting plinth of his palm, cushioning your crown. “Claim me.”

He—John, you think, delirious; gone—John places a tender kiss to your pulse point, soft despite the uneven, desperate way he fucks into you now. All that careful finesse falling to pieces under your foot, growing choppier as he sinks in deep. Pistoning shallowly into your sloppy cunt, taking. Taking. 

“Please, John,” you breathe, clenching tight around him. Needing that last push to drop over this vertiginous precipice that yawns out, a growling, hungry chasm, before you. Heat spears into your marrow, drowning out all the fight inside of you. Dousing those flames until they're a smouldering heap; clumps of hot, wet ash in your hands. “Please take me—”

The growl he makes is inhuman. Lingering in the shadow of it is a mocking burst of laughter. Dark, hellish. He leans in close, mouth tight against your skin, and whispers, “already have, love.”

Those words lose any meaning when he opens his mouth wider, licking a stripe over your neck. A soothing rinse. And then he buries his teeth into your pulse, tearing through your skin. Claiming. Owning. It rips through you—all heat, sensation: blistering, inferno. You burn alive beneath him, smouldered under his possessive, heavy bulk.

Price leans back with a vicious, terrible growl. Blood dripping down his chin, mixing with the tacky slick of you still covering his face. Pinkish under the waning light of the dying sun. 

The sight of it, the horrible throb in your throat, breaks over you.

His tongue flicks out, chasing the drops. With a swipe of his finger over your clit, you fall to pieces around him, clenching. Throbbing. Screaming with your release. Gushing around him as he grips you tight, working you through it, muscles fluttering, flexing. The deluge of pleasure is molten, spreading liquid through your body. Inescapable bliss. 

He grunts, pace slowing to a sloppy grind. Letting you leech pleasure from the overfull feeling of being speared open on him. Knot swelling. Bumping into your rim. John gives you respite for a moment, content to hump against your messy cunt until you melt into the furs, panting with exertion. With pleasure. 

He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, stroking. Shoving you into the side of too much, of pleasure-pain. Overstimulated. You mewl, whimpering. 

“Greedy girl,” he chides, cruel, and pulls back. The wet drag of his cock against your sore, sensitive walls is overwhelming. You keen, shaking under him. “Couldn't wait to cum around my knot, mm?” 

He doesn't wait for your excuses. He never does. He just thrusts into you again, a slow climb until his knot bludgeons into you. Fatten up at the base of his cock. He holds it there, grinding it against your pussy as you arch, mewling at the sting of your hole being stretched further around the curve of his knot. 

“You can take it,” he coos. The muscles in his shoulders flex. You reach out, petting along his chest. feeling him. All powerful, corded muscles hiding under a thick layer of pelt. Soft flesh. 

His knot catches. Slips. He bullies it against your sore, stuffed rim, throwing the full heft of his weight behind his shallow grinds until finally, finally, your body yields. Giving in. Opening for him. 

He sinks in with a broken groan, mouth dropping open. Lax. His shoulders slump under your hands as he pumps you full of cum. Plugged up tight on his fat, pulsing knot. It's too much. Too much. All you do is cling to him, nails biting into his flesh. Marking him like the bloody ring around your neck marks you as his. 

Locked together, damned, he leans down. Huffs in your ear. 

“Gonna fuck you full all spring until it takes, love. Until you're swollen, fat, with our kid.” His voice is a thunderclap. A promise. A threat. “Won't keep them lonely for long, though, will you? We'll give him a sister or brother. Gonna breed this pussy as much as I want, mm. Give us a big family. I've already started on the nursery for you. After your heat, I'll let you pick the colours, yeah?”

Satiated Alpha permeates the air. It's thick in the back of your throat, clogging your senses. Drowning you. Pulling you under. 

The last thought before you sink below the waterline is a broken, fragmented sense of dread, confusion. It comes in a daze. Flickering embers. Quickly snuffed out by his palm gliding across your eyes, closing them. 

“Sleep now,” he rasps, hips stuttering as he fills you with more cum. Uncomfortably full, it floods your cunt, locked tight against your womb. “Gonna need it when my rut starts later.” 

And, docile, collared, you obey, drifting. Dazed. But wondering, in the back of your head, in the part of you not yet consumed by the ink-black darkness that eats away at you, why did he build a nursery for you if he didn't know you were coming today—

—swallowed, eaten. his teeth are buried in your neck once more, and all thoughts dissolve in an instant. Dissipate into the gnawing aether where he splits them between his molars, gulps them down. 

nothing matters anymore. you belong to him—

The cabin reeks of satiated omega—sweet, pungent. Rotten apple peels, and burnt orange. It's this heavy scent—sex, loam, and you—that draws him out of his doze, tired eyes blinking against the flickering light of the wood stove pushed into the corner. 

Price groans when he shifts, body aching. Muscles stiff, sore, from disuse. 

It’s been a long, long time since he knotted an omega, and he underestimated the sharpness of your claws, your needle-like teeth. But he wears the marks, the scars, of your aggressive coupling on his shoulders, his back. Clawed up, torn. He grimaces when a clotting scab breaks, peels back from the wound. Blood drips down his spine in a steady, ticklish trickle. 

It took a lot more than he expected to make you submit. Had to force you to take his knot twice more before you finally, fully, relented, slurring his name into the sheets as he rutted into you from behind, begging for your Alpha to fill you up. 

Had you again after that—so soft and sweet for him now. Pulled you down on his lap, let you take what you wanted from him, sluggish and lazy, until he gripped your hips tight, fucking up into you as he thickened with his release. Plugged you up nicely as you drooled on his shoulder, lulled to sleep from three brutal rounds of fucking. 

But the battle was worth the victory in the end. To have you tucked into his chest, purring with contentment and too blissed out from heat exhaustion to worry about anything else, was enough. More than, really. 

Especially now, with you curled on him, snoring lightly, breath tickling his chest hair, he feels more sated than he ever had, breathing in the heaviness of your smell. Your thick miasma. New, now. Different. 

His scent, his mere essence within you, changes your smell already. Chemicals admixing. Body moulding, morphing, to adapt to him. His presence. You smell like the sea, salt water. Algae blooms. He leans down, breathes you in. Tastes his own headiness in the back of his throat—charred timber, smoke; leather. It clings to you. A second skin. 

No matter where you go, everyone will know you belong to him. 

This thought, this truism, makes him purr. A deep rumble from the pit of his gut. Satisfaction rolls off of him in towering waves, hewing the air where it congeals into plumes of conquest. Hard earned, too—

Three years. It only took three years to get to this point. To chisel under your skin, to break you down in his paws. Fine powder. 

He lifts his hand from your back, and scours it down his salt-slickened face. He feels heat blooming under his skin. A telltale flush of his approaching rut. Perfectly timed, too. And that reminds him—

He pushes away from you slightly, spent cock slipping free from your warm, drenched cunt. His cum drips out of you, a deluge that leaks steadily onto your thigh, the ruined fur below. It puddles there and stains the air with his unmistakable musk. The conquering of an omega in heat; claimed. Owned. 

He doesn't go far. Can't. There's a possessive, needy thrill under his veins. A snarling growl in the back of his head, snapping rabid jowls at him. Demanding he stay close to his mate. His omega. Don't leave the nest, it warns, or another could crawl in, fill the empty space—

Price cuts that thought off with an aborted snarl. There are no others. He made sure of it. Bloodied his knuckles against every alpha within a one-hundred-square-mile radius of his territory. Growled in their faces, hand against their throat, and told them to stay away from, you, this pretty little omega. 

Message received, of course. But you were a prickly little thing. Bitter. As much as he wanted to roll you on your belly, make you present your cunt to him, he knew he had to tread carefully. Baby steps until you were close enough to his jaws to snap up, all his. Always. Ever since you stepped foot into his domain, your tart scent coalescing perfectly with the pine, oakmoss, tang of him. You've been his before you even knew who he was—

Wily omega with your shaking fists and bared teeth. Skittish little thing. Needed to play his hand slowly, to box you into a corner before you were even aware of the walls closing in around you. Snapped up tight his maw. Bear Trap quick. Had to be smart about it, bide his time. Push and push until all you thought about was him. 

(checkmate)

John reaches for the loose floorboard, prying it open, and pulls his cell phone out—one he knows he’ll have to bury in the yard before you wake. There are very few contacts on his list, and he idly scrolls through the messages (steaming Jesus, the smell o’er—ye sure ye don’ share, cap?; better take her, Price, before I do) before he finds Gaz’s. 

The last message sent was hours ago from Kyle. on her way. but fuck, didn't realise how fast fake suppressants worked, chief. gonna have to find her quick. might not make it up the mountain smellin as good as she does—

Good boy, he types with one hand, the other petting possessively down your spine. Curled there, a weighty pressure. You found him in the end, right on the cusp of your burgeoning heat. Pawing desperately for the suppressants Kyle made sure wouldn't be there. 

(His parting gift brought on by a conversation ages ago—

“why haven't you mated, cap? not gettin’ any younger.”

“haven't found the right one. ain't gonna settle.”

“more like, your shitty attitude scares all the pretty omegas away, huh?”

“that, too,” he bit down into his cigar. suddenly angry, viciously so. “‘cept one.” 

Kyle followed his gaze, and—

“so, take her. she wants you. reeks like she does. you can smell it, too, can't you?” his eyes flashed. playful. “maybe that'll be my retirement gift to you.”

“not funny, Garrick.”

“m’not tryin’ t’be, cap.”)

Three dots appear almost instantly. It takes a moment. Then: fuckin’ prick. Another message from Kyle pops up seconds after. told you, didn't i? i wasn't bein funny. congrats, cap ;) 

As if sensing the sudden whiplash of his mood—deep, proprietorial—you stir in his arms, mewling in confusion. John drops the phone, hiding it from view, and pulls you tighter in his arms. In his embrace. Mouth pressed tight to your hairline, he rumbles, “shush, shush. I got you.” 

His words make you quieten slightly. Quelled under the susurrus lull of his bellowing purr. But there's still a deep ravine between your brows. Unease lashes the air, acidic. Bubbling up from deep within you. 

None of this must make any sense to you. Mercurial boss to mate, but he knows you'll come around to the idea of him soon enough. After all,

he has you all to himself until winter. 

all to himself. 

His hand falls, cups your lower belly possessively. Covetous. You grimace in your sleep, shifting away from the heavy, oppressive brunt of his smell. Obsessive. Potent like a wildfire. Dangerous. 

But there's nowhere for you to run. Nowhere to go except deeper into his arms, his hold. Gyves around your throat; a bloody ring of his teeth. 

Price hums. “Best gift I've ever gotten.” 

[thegnomelord]

ooohh I love the idea of alpha gaz actually. Especially with his dynamic with price because price is kind of like his role model sometimes and he's a much older and more experienced guy that's used to being in leadership positions. Gaz is younger and somewhat looks up to price and has never been in a position to tell other people what to do, so to have that flipped in the bedroom and have omega price and alpha gaz is not what most people would expect them to be. It makes their relationship more interesting. And gaz especially would be a good alpha because he's not a hothead and can keep control of himself more than most other alphas can. And I mean we've already had omega Gaz fics so it would be nice to switch it up this time (not if you don't want to. Just ideas)

Hm that's a good point and a cool dynamic idea too :Dd, as I'm not all that certain if I'm gonna even do abo so here's a quick experimental brain fart with Alpha Gaz/omega Price/alphaHound

CW:NSFW, this is more or less when Hound has mostly been rehabed and is more confident about intimacy. Not all too happy about it but it's a good enough example of how I'd incorporate the abo dynamic. Tell me what ya'll think lol

Price looks like he's run a marathon, huffing and puffing more than a racehorse as he settles in his nest. Of course his heat had to hit a whole 2 weeks earlier than it was supposed to, leading him to make a makeshift nest out of whatever he had in his closet and what the lads gave him. You'd think with him getting on in age his heats would slow down and lessen in intensity, but it seemed like his body was out to get him with his heats remaining the same as they had been when he first joined the military.

At least he's got two alphas able to help him through it.

Gaz doesn't have an overpowering scent like most alphas, but the smell of an omega in the first stages of heat will have any alpha's scent glands going into overdrive. The heady smell of nutmeg and beeswax spreads through the room, mixing with Price's own mint and blackberry scent that's been turned sweeter from his heat, as Kyle tentatively gets in the nest, fumbling with his belt like he's a teenager while he nuzzles his nose into Price's sweaty neck.

"Kyle I swear on the queen if you don't pick up the pace." Price hisses but the edge in his words are dulled by the soft purrs coming from his chest.

"Sorry sir," Kyle mumbles as he rubs his skin against Price's, somehow managing to end up between Price's spread legs, his fingers pushing into his slick hole. "I just- you smell so good."

"Eager whelp." You huff a small laugh as Price groans. Your own movements are slower, more measured, your scent muskier thanks to your age. You feel Kyle's hackles raise as you settle behind him, your body so, so much larger than his. But the low rumbling chuffs you make has him calming down just a bit, enough to not notice when your hand grips his wrist, two of your fingers sliding in along his and curling. "Move your hand like this, you'll get him wet in seconds."

Price moans as your curling fingers brush against the spongy spot inside him, his cock leaking a few drops of pre against his stomach. "As if you weren't the same." Price chuckles, holding Kyle by the scruff so he can pull him down into a sloppy kiss. "First time you helped Simon with his heat you barely lasted a minute before you shot your lil lads like a virgin."

Gaz doesn't know how either of you have enough sense in your heads left to think let alone talk when he feels like his brain is melting through his dick. Your scents curl in his nose and he whines, so hard it hurts him as he feels Price clench and relax around his fingers. He sobs his muffled 'thank you's into Price's neck when you deem Price prepped enough, a firm hand on his cock guiding him inside that tight heat.

Kyle's hips try to snap up to sheathe himself inside his omega on instinct, a low and pitiful grownly whine leaving him when you hold him steady with only his tip inside that tight heat.

"Go slow." You chastise him, one large hand on his hip to keep Gaz still while the other slides down to hold him by his knot. "Wouldn't want you to cum too soon, right?" When Kyle nods dumbly you slowly push on his hips until he's almost all the way inside Price, a small slap on his flank getting Kyle to rock his hips in a way you hope Price still likes.

"Lad- you-" Your name sounds like an angel's choir on Price's lips, his head falling back. Kyle takes that time to lay kisses and hickeys across his neck. "So good to me boys." Price slurs, eyes closing and enjoying the stretch of his walls around Kyle's cock, the pleasure and small hints of pain scratching that gnawing heat in his blood.

"Careful now Kyle," You hum and let go of his cock when he picks up the pace you want him to have, his ass grinding against your cock every time he pulls out to thrust back into Price. "I'll need to show you how to fuck properly if you lack the skills."

You can see why Price picked him to be the team's alpha. Most knotheaded whelps would have been up at arms for even the mere suggestion of taking a cock up the ass, yet by the sharpening of Kyle's scent you can he likes the idea.

"I wouldn't mind that." Kyle shoots back, and his surprising words get a pleased rumble out of you. "Yeah, you like that big man- fuck- hah-" the teasing list in his voice is lost as he moans, the smooth glide of his cock into Price and the lewd sound of omega slick squelching every time he moves making heat burn in his veins.

He shivers as your massive body presses further against his back, pinning him between you and Price and forcing his cock to go deeper with every thrust. "Good." You rumble against his neck, the cold metal plating your canines pressing against his skin as you gently nibble on his neck only working to further stoke the burning heat in his body. "Because I'm finding you lacking."

[moonshynecybin]

i think often about rosquez feminisation (when you said vale would use feminine terms of endearment 😵‍💫) so… vale who thinks he’s learning the ropes of being an alpha quite nicely and is acclimating well enough to these new dynamics (his charisma doing the bulk of the work lol) learning about mpreg and all of a sudden things are once again Not fine and he has like 5381 new kinks (tho one in particular) all involving marc fricking marquez

not about abo rosquez sorry but i was thinking. about marc’s lucky underwear. thinking about them being blue and red. thinking about vale learning about this because marc flashes him his ass after getting asked about his pre-race superstitions as he has been known to do. thinking about vale going omg haha that’s so funny. you know what else would be so funny. dropping off a couple sets of blue and red race weekend panties for marc to wear as a JOKE. frilly, lacy things. designer. expensive. just a prank. he doesn’t even leave his name on the box just has someone drop them off. and he expects marc to realize they’re from him and laugh, maybe get a little embarrassed, push the side of vale’s shoulder the way he does when vale says something that really gets him. just BUDDY stuff. but when he sees marc later he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even react. he’s happy and normal and maybe a little pink at his cheeks. but he just says hi. yammers about his late race pace. and vale thinks maybe he just didn’t get the joke, maybe he threw them away. didn’t notice. so he tries to forget about it, stop thinking about it, wait for a good moment to bring it up and REALLY make the moment land, and it never does.

but the thing is. for some reason it keeps sticking. in his brain. every race weekend— he knows exactly what marc is wearing under his clothes. blue for practice, red for races. and he can’t stop thinking, would he. would he let me tell him what to wear. is he wearing them right now? playing like a loop on his head. just the thought of marc swinging a leg over his winning (2014, i THINK !) honda with a scrap of bright red lace tucked up inside his leathers… marc’s good luck charm being chosen by VALE…. it starts being genuinely all he can think about, and he starts to realize it’s a PROBLEM when he’s behind marc for warm ups staring at his ass like UH OH…

anyways it’s all very. horny but abstract. a fantasy. lingering over panties in store windows like hm. hm. hmmmm. thinking about marc in silence. some half repressed thoughts while he’s getting himself off, how easy it would be to call marc and just. ask him what he’s wearing. keep a hand on himself when he talks… until they’re in the hall after a press conference doing terrible unfunny bits and somebody drops something… and marc bends over to pick something up… and record scratch. freeze frame. comical double take. he’s actually fucking wearing them.

[staylovesmiley]

Going Dumb~ Chapter 6

ᯓᡣ𐭩Pairing; Kim Seungmin x Fem!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩Summary; It had been over a decade since you had last seen each other, having met in choir when Seungmin was living with his grandparents in LA and you with your Aunt. Now that you are both presented adults, how will he handle a change to the reality of you he had made in his mind in your absence over the years?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 Notes; This is an ABO!AU. in this world when someone reaches puberty they will present with one of three sub genders; alpha, beta, or omega. Due to Alphas and Omegas experiencing rut and heat, some jobs are restrictive as to what sub genders they will hire, specifically singling out omegas as heat suppressants are harder to obtain than rut suppressants. Scent glands are located near the pressure points on the neck and small hormonal patches called scent blockers can be placed over them to reduce or rid an individual of their scent for a period of time depending on the strength of the hormones in the patch.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩Warnings; abo!au, beta!kim seungmin, almost all alpha!straykids, female!reader, poly!pack dynamics, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, smut, enemies to lovers, Kim seungmin is kind of an ass I’m so sorry dandy boy, she/her pronouns used for reader, jealous seungmin, I have only ever wrote one abo story before but it is one of my favorite genres so I hope I can do this justice~

You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep for. Your body ached as if you had been asleep for days, or hit by a bus, you thought to yourself as you rubbed the palms of your hands against your eyes with a groan before stretching out your tired muscles with a little sound of pain at the tension in them releasing slightly with the movement.

After Seungmin had left you alone in his room to change next door inside Felix room, you sat for a few moments as you blinked in confusion at the slight smile he had left with. What had that meant? Why was he smiling after you had chewed him out for trying to get you to stop apologizing, for belittling all he was doing to help you and passing it off as if it wasn’t that big of a deal all the effort he seemed to be putting in to make you comfortable after what had happened.

You had changed into the clothes he had given you and once you were dressed and sitting on the bed the exhaustion of the day had fully caught back up and with the beta’s comforting scent surrounding you like a security blanket you couldn’t help but feel your eyelids getting heavy. You barely registered someone coming in and pulling the comforter over you as you drifted off, mind going into a completely dreamless state as you fell into one of the heaviest and deepest sleeps you had since probably your early childhood.

You didn’t know what you expected when you finally sat up on the bed and took in your surroundings, but it was not the sight that awaited you.

Curled up on the floor with a spare pillow and quilt from the bedroom down the hall, slept the beta whose room you were currently in. Somehow you had expected him to stay in one of the others rooms, or maybe the spare room itself. Instead he was there on the floor, soft snores slipping from him as he was a bit sprawled out on his back with the blankets tangled around his limbs.

A soft giggle escaped your lips at the sight, and slowly you slipped out of bed and kneeled on the floor beside his sleeping form. With a glance at the clock on the beside table you saw that it was still relatively early in the morning but with you haven’t fallen asleep in the early evening the day before it didn’t surprise you that you woke up earlier than you normally would.

Carefully, you pulled the comforter around Seungmin so that he was a bit more covered from the AC causing the room to be a bit chilly. You made your way out into the hall, heading for the kitchen to find something to eat as you had slept through what would have been dinner the night before and you could feel your stomach ache slightly from the missed meal.

Sat at the kitchen table, almost as if sensing you had woken up and now lay waiting like a predator waiting patiently for his prey, Lee Minho sipped calmly at the warm cup of coffee in his hands. “Bunny, good morning. Sit.” He motioned for you to take the seat at the other end of the table facing him, and you took a deep shaky breath before doing as he had instructed.

His normally calming aura only seemed to set you on edge as you knew he was probably wanting to discuss something having to do with the events the day previous. Once sat, the alpha rose and busied himself in the kitchen for a moment before returning and setting a steaming bowl of some soup with rice noodles on the place mat in front of you. You blinked a few times while looking between the bowl and the older man, only receiving a warm smile and a kiss to the top of your head before he moved to reclaim his seat at the other end of the table.

You stared at him for a bit, whispering a quiet thank you before beginning to eat whatever it was he had prepared for you. “Once you’re finished eating I want you to go get dressed and come with the maknaes and me to the police station.” He said, finishing his coffee and setting the empty mug in the sink before passing you on his way out of the room. Fuck. You should have known that was coming.

True to his word, Minho had woken up both Seungmin and Jeongin and told them the same as he had told you. While the members ate their own breakfast you looked through your suitcases which were once again in the spare bedroom though the thought of having to take off the clothes that smelled so comforting to you made your stomach turn so you settled for just adding on a sports bra under the baggy tshirt of Seungmin’s you wore before picking one of your own oversized hoodies and pulling it on over to keep yourself warm against the chilly winter morning air.

By the time you had rejoined the three of them in the kitchen they were finished eating and already waiting for you to return. You looked at them blankly, unsure how to feel as Minho have you a soft look that showed he knew this was hard for you but necessary so that a report could be made and hopefully no one else would encounter the same brutality you had at the hands of your attackers. You gave him a small, forced smile that made his heart ache before he reached out and pulled you to him in a gentle embrace.

The warm smell of caramel you had come to be familiar with surrounded you as the alpha lightly scented you before you left the apartment. Your scent glands were still extremely sensitive and so blockers were out of the question, so this was his solution to the unspoken problem and it made a genuine smile fall upon your features as he pulled away. “Thanks, Min….” You said just above a whisper and he nodded in return. “Let’s get going then, yeah?”

With that, the four of you went down to the garage and piled into the older alpha’s car to head to the police station and file a formal report against the individuals who had attacked you.

Filing the report was more exhausting than you originally had dreaded. For hours you went between waiting in the halls with the boys to begin separated into different interview rooms so they could get each of your stories about what had happened. A female officer came in at one point and photographed all injuries your two colleagues had left during the attack, and even though you had already showered they urged you to go to the hospital so if there was any evidence it could be collected as well as any medications needed to fight against infections could be administered.

By the time you were sat in the hospital bed with Jeongin and Seungmin sat in the chairs against the wall of the room, Minho talking with the nurse at the front desk about how much longer this process would take as you had already been put through so much and it was now approaching noon even though you had started this whole process in the early hours of the morning. It was almost 24 hours since the attack and an unsettling numbness had settled over you that put the young alpha and beta in the room with you on edge.

Just as Minho walked back in the room, all eyes but yours turned to look at him questioningly. “We can leave within the hour, they said they just need to make sure you don’t have any negative reactions to the medication they gave you and we can go home.” The news that you’d be able to rest soon caused relief to wash over you in such a strong wave tears began spill down your cheeks and a soft sob escaped your lips.

The sounds of your cries caused the two youngest members to shoot up from their seats and come to the edge of the bed yet they were unsure what to do. At their mild panic you laughed a bit, shaking your head. “I’m okay I’m fine….just happy this is almost over.”

Minho smiled at that and came over to place a soft kiss on your temple as he smoothed over your hair gently. “Mhm, almost over and then I’ll make you all some lunch when we get back. It’s already been a long day and you all did good. I’m proud of all of you.” His words caused another sob to escape your lips and the two boys on the other end of the bed began tearing up as well but quickly pulled themselves together as the nurses returned to take out your IVs and prepare you for discharge.

Back at the dorm, Jeongin pulled you to sit with him on the couch while Minho got started on making the lunch he had promised you all.

Seungmin went back to his room for a bit and reemerge with the comforters both off of the floor from the spare room that he had been using as well as the one from his bed and he sat on the couch with the two of you before piling the blankets on top of all of you.

You smiled softly, snuggling up to the youngest and mouthing a thanks to Seungmin where he sat on the opposite side of the alpha. Something random was put on the tv and before you knew it you had fallen asleep with your head resting on the youngest’s shoulder.

Jeongin looked from you to Seungmin before smiling softly. “You know I usually don’t like this kinda thing but….after everything we just got through with this feels very nice.” The beta nodded, using the opportunity to cuddle up to the alpha as well. “Yeah I know what you mean….I can only imagine how she’s feeling if I feel this drained-“

The two made a silent agreement to let you rest, watching whatever had been put on the tv while you slept against the youngest and Minho continued to make them all lunch in the kitchen behind them.

After the events of yesterday, Chan had made several calls and got them all the day off to make sure that you were okay as well as to give them time to go report everything to the police. Unbeknownst to you, the leader was keeping up to date with everything through constant messaging with the second oldest. The alpha smiled when he went to go and retrieve the three of you for lunch, taking a quick photo of you all snuggled up on the couch and sending it to Bangchan before gently rubbing your arm causing you to jolt awake.

“Morning, cutie. Come and eat something, yeah? Then you can go back to sleep I promise.” You nodded to the alpha and slowly made your way to the kitchen table where he had laid out the food he had made for the four of you. It was only you, Minho, and the youngest two members as Changbin had slept in before going to the gym, and the 00 liners minus Seungmin had decided to go out for lunch to give you some time to relax after everything.

As you began digging into whatever it was the older had put together for you, another noodle dish though this one wasn’t in a soup, Chan arrived back from the company and gave a warm greeting to the lot of you before taking the empty seat beside Jeongin where Minho placed yet another plate of food. “Thanks Min, didn’t get a chance to grab something to eat before coming back.”

The alpha nodded back before taking his seat across from where you and Seungmin sat and began eating his own food. The meal was mostly enjoyed in silence, the now five of you choosing to stuff your faces over creating small talk.

Once everyone had finished up the two youngest began cleaning up and as you moved to join them, Chan reached out and placed a hand on your forearm. “Actually Bunny, I need to talk with you about something kind of important if you don’t mind joining me in my room?” Your eyes widened a bit, curiosity flooding your mind as you wondered what exactly he would want to talk with you about out of earshot of the others.

Minho gave the oldest a look, confusion laced in his expression but the leader only shook his head at him as if to tell him it wasn’t to be discussed at that time with him. You took a deep breath before nodded and rising up from your seat. “Yeah sure…” Chan gave you a warm smile to let you know that all was well, gently taking hold of your hand before leading you out of the dining room and down the hall to his room.

Once inside the smell of the ocean crashed over you and you felt like you had just stepped foot on the beach on a warm summers day, minus the sand of course. The alpha motioned for you to take a seat on the bed and you did so, starting to feel nerves bubbling in your stomach with the anticipation of what he had to talk with you about.

Chan closed the door behind him and pulled the chair from his desk over to sit in front of where you were on the bed. “So- I’m just gonna cut to the chase and say that you aren’t going back to that school. Ever.” You blinked a few times, brows furrowing a bit as you contemplated arguing that he wasn’t allowed to tell you what you could and could not do. He wasn’t your alpha and this wasn’t your pack. But after a moment you realized you didn’t even want to go back to that place after everything so you only let out a soft huff and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You say that as if I was planning to. Though I don’t really have another job lined up at the moment-“ before you could finish she alpha perked up and he cut you off. “Actually that’s what I really wanted to talk to you about. The thing about you not going there was kinda a given I was just trying to lead into the news but-“ it was your turn to cut him off as confusion was etched onto your face. “News? What news?”

Bangchan beamed, scooting the chair closer to take both of your hands into his. “I have a job for you. I was at the company today in a meeting I had called specifically to make sure this was okay so everything could be set to go for you….if you want it.” You stared at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly ajar as you thought of what to say. “Chan you didn’t have to do that- I can find a job on my own you don’t have to bend over backwards for me.” Guilt washed over you as you thought of all the trouble he must have gone through and how much of a burden it must have been. Your brain tried to tell you this is exactly what Seungmin was afraid of and that he was right but the older could see this and shook his head.

“Bunny- stop thinking so hard, okay? It’s nothing, really….it’s a job. You’d be working, helping. I didn’t have to do any bending over backwards.” The alpha gave your hands a light squeeze. “Besides I don’t think the Mins would let you out of their sight any time soon to go to another job especially at another school.” You huffed out a laugh at that, finding the term he used for Minho and Seungmin silly but somewhat endearing. You stared into his eyes, searching for something to tell you that he was just being polite but you saw nothing but sincerity there.

“What’s…um- what’s the job?” Bangchan smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow at you. “Does this mean you accept?” You shook your head, rolling your eyes at him playfully. “Just wanna know what I would be getting myself into before I give you an answer.” You teased him and caused the alpha to let out a laugh. “I want you to be our assistant. The pay would be decent, probably more than you made teaching, and I’d want you to live here with us full time.” It wasn’t as if he was going to insist you still live with them even if you turned the job down but it was worth mentioning as part of the job requirements.

You thought for a bit, head tilting to the side. “Your assistant…what would that even mean in the way of a job description? What would my responsibilities be?” Chan smiled, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Kind of like a manager, but more hands on. You’d need to be with us at our schedules and the company, just helping us with small tasks like our managers usually do but this would free them up to actually manage our schedules. You can also help me with translating for the members when we are at events overseas.”

The job sounded simple enough, though in the short time you knew them you knew things could get chaotic sometimes. After some thinking, the alpha sitting there eagerly awaiting your reply as he still held your hands in his. “Okay. I’ll accept- partly because I do need a job sooner rather than later but also because I trust you.”

Chan nodded, unable to hide his joy that you had accepted his offer. He had been preparing you to turn it down, and what he would need to say to try and convince you to stay there with them anyways for the sake of his and the member’s sanity as after recent events they were a bit on edge about your safety and the best way to ensure that was to be with you as much as possible.

After talking over some more details with the alpha the two of you left his room, seeing that the other members had returned home and were lounging in the living room either scrolling on their phones or watching some drama Han had put on the tv. All eyes fell on the pair of you expectantly, some just curious about why you had gone to speak with their leader and others because they knew what it was you had gone to discuss.

“Kids, say hello to our new assistant!” Bangchan said cheerfully as he gave you a gentle push forward. With a little wave, you looked around at the faces staring back at you nervously. “Guess I’m gonna be around a lot more than before…I hope that’s okay-“ you found Seungmin’s eyes and gave an apologetic look but the beta simply stood up and made his way over to you. “You don’t have to ask that, of course it’s okay…I know what I said before when you first got here but I was wrong.”

You opened your mouth to speak but he shook his head. “I’m glad you’re here. Things will be a lot easier with you helping us. Plus, there is way too much alpha energy in this group it’ll be nice to have more balance.” He said with a teasing smile causing you to laugh lightly. “Don’t I also have this supposed alpha energy according to you?”

Seungmin looked down at his feet shyly before scratching at his head. “Well yes but- it’s different, okay? Just trust me- I’m glad you said yes to Chan hyung’s job offer.” You smiled, shaking your head at his shyness. “Me too, Minnie.”

The rest of the evening went by quickly, the pack and you lazing around watching different movies after someone wrestled the controller from Jisung through protests that his show was good and no one was giving it a fair chance. You were sat snugly between him and Minho, taking the younger alpha’s hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze as you leaned over to whisper in his ear. “I promise I’ll watch it with you sometime this week, yeah? Let’s just watch something everyone can agree with for now, yeah?”

His face heated up slightly but he nodded in agreement and moved closer while hiding his face in the crook of your neck so the others wouldn’t see his blush. “Okay- I’m holding you to that.” He said with a squeeze to your hand in return. Minho watched the two of you interacting with a smirk on his face, moving his arm around the back of the couch to play with Jisung’s hair where his head still rested on your shoulder even after removing his face from your neck.

After about three different marvel movies Felix got the idea that they needed snacks and so that’s how you ended up baking cookies with the alpha in the kitchen, though mostly you sat at the island stealing bits of the dough when he wasn’t looking.

Meanwhile, neither of you were aware that Seungmin was watching the two of you from his spot on one of the couches.

He had been reading messages from fans on bubble when he noticed most of them were asking about you. The company has yet to release a statement about the hand holding incident at inkigayo, a meeting having been set with him for later in the week to discuss the best course of action but he didn’t really like the thought of that as he looked between the flood of questions from fans and where you stood in the kitchen with the blonde alpha laughing with him about whatever it was the two of you had been conversing about as he baked.

Without giving it much more thought, the beta raised his phone and snapped a picture of you as you snuck yet another bite of the cookie dough from the bowl sat on the counter. He sent the picture, followed by a string of messages.

“A thief caught in the act”

“Oh, this is the girl from the other day by the way.”

“Her name is Bunny 🐰”

“She’s my childhood friend so please treat her kindly.”

“She is part of staff now too so she will be around a lot, thought it was good to introduce her to stay.”

A few of the member’s phones buzzed with the notifications. Felix looked at his phone after placing another tray of cookies into the oven to bake and his eyes widened. “Kim Seungmin what the fuck-“ came Minho’s voice as he sat up and looked at the beta with a shocked expression. As other members started to speak up and say their thoughts about the younger member’s impulsiveness you just stared on in confusion. “Wait what is going on?” You spoke up, looking between them all and waiting for someone to give you an answer.

Felix held his phone out to you, and you took it to see what they had all been berating the second youngest over. “Oh-“ was all you could see, staring at the messages like a deer caught in the headlights. “You should have waited until you spoke with the company. Seriously, this could end up with a lot of backlash for the both of you.” Chan said, scolding the beta. “Do you not trust stay? Look, most of the replies are really positive. I think they like her a lot already-“ Seungmin held his phone out for the leader to see and he sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Okay…okay. But next time at least talk to me about it before you plan to post stuff like that, yeah?”

Nodding in understanding, your childhood friend gave you a smile and a shrug, holding the phone out to you. “Wanna see what they are saying?”

You made your way over to him, leaning over the back of the couch to read the messages on his phone. Some were congratulating you on getting to work with the boys, others were talking about you sneaking the cookie dough and how funny or cute it was, and others were completely unintelligible as they varied in level of freaking out over getting such personal details from the singer thus feeding into the delusion that they were close with him to a degree. Sure, there were some negative comments, but overall the responses seemed to be positive and for that you were grateful.

Well, things were definitely about to change you thought to yourself. You thought you knew what you were getting into at least to a degree by accepting the offer to be their assistant. However, you were so unaware of how chaotic your life was about to get.

author’s note: finished this a little later than originally planned- I just want to say regarding the content in this chapter that if you have been a victim of sa and you didn’t make a report about it I am in no way shaming you I myself as well as people I know have unfortunately gone through that and didn’t report it’s a very lengthy and invasive process that can also sometimes lead to feeling blame put on you by the hospital or authorities so it’s understandable that for some people especially having just gone through something traumatic wouldn’t want to put themselves through all of that. Just felt like I needed to clarify that after I had wrote those parts into the story- ᕱᕱ₊˚⊹♡

taglist; (pink users mean I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @skzswife @maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @doitforbangchan @chartrucewhore @sebastianswhore13 @finnydraws @bahablastplz

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE! ALPHA x DEMON! READER ( PART ONE )

inspired by those ABO BLs where the MC avoids the ML lol.

tw/cw : ABO Dynamics, Fantasy-Modern Setting. Angst. Dom! Reader. GN! Reader

“Why are you avoiding me?”

You were a Dominant Alpha. The same as Kasumi, or so he thought. For some reason unlike the usual, your smell attracted him. Kasumi hated the pheromones of others ever since he first presented, but the way you smelled always made his knees weak and his body heat up uncontrollably.

He loved you, he knew that a long time ago. He also knew that whatever you became he’d still love you.

He just didn’t expect the two of you to be so incompatible.

“Did it feel that way? I’m sorry.” Despite your words your eyes failed to meet his. “I’ve been seeing this omega lately. Perhaps I was just too distracted by them.”

You always loved rubbing salt into the wound. As if the rumors between you two weren’t enough, you constantly reminded him that you two are and will never be together as long as one of you continued to be an alpha.

What hurt the most was the fact that you knew of his feelings and still acted this way.

He didn’t mind it if society- hell even the world - didn’t want you two together. But when you so blatantly rejected him it never failed to bring him to tears.

Most already laughed at his lack of experience and knowledge in comparison to other macho alphas, if they knew he always cried just because of one person. . .

“My partners have always been beta you know. Sex with them was alright, nothing too mind-blowing. But with an omega,” Your face was covered in pink, ecstasy written all over it.

And then you leaned forward to whisper into his ears, “I can fuck them all day.”

Kasumi couldn’t help it. His blood vessels expand as a rapid torrent of hormones entered his body. Anger, lust, sadness. You toyed with him for far too long.

Before he could even think his hands were already on your throat, squeezing down on it with an intent to kill.

“Why . . . why do you keep doing this to me?”

Despite the lack of air entering your lungs and your ensnared state, the smirk on your face does not falter, “Kasumi, don’t you know?” Your eyes glowed a menacing scarlet as you started cackling. Blood spurts from your mouth from the force of both yours and his actions.

“Pleasure is sweetest when it’s paid for in other’s pain.”

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: Three Is Company

Frodo calling it “Our Birthday” is making me feel things. Oh would you look at the time, it’s Crying About Bilbo and Frodo O’Clock again TT~TT

It’s honestly such a mood that Frodo says to himself “I’m following Bilbo!” so he doesn’t have to think about “I’m carrying a thing of great evil into danger and unseen ends”. Me too, Frodo. Me too.

“And see that Sam Gamgee does not talk. If he does, I really shall turn him into a toad.” 🤣

“Bilbo went to find a treasure, there and back again; but I go to lose one, and not return, as far as I can see.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME—

Also “and not to return” is so heartbreaking, especially knowing that by the time he gets to Mordor Frodo is fully expecting to die at the end of his journey TT^TT

“It may be your task to find the Cracks of Doom.” JUST DROP THAT FORESHADOWING RIGHT THERE LIKE IT’S NOTHING, HUH, TOLKIEN??

Also teehee crack

Yes I am a twelve year old boy on the inside, moving on

The local shade towards the Sackville-Bagginses is HYSTERICAL

“Ah yes Merry is looking out for a house for me in Buckland.” INSTANCE #2 OF MERRY BEING ORGANIZATIONALLY GOATED

I’m honestly very impressed by how neatly Tolkien crafted Frodo’s backstory and interwove it into the story. The idea that he’s going back to Buckland where he grew up really does seem credible! None of the hobbits would suspect a thing! I almost have to wonder which came first in Tolkien’s mind, Frodo’s backstory or the fact that he’d need a good excuse to go East. It’s so well-crafted and it makes my writer brain happy.

F in the chat for Folco Boffin; we know your name and nothing else about you

Frodo draining the last of the wine like “lol at least the Sackville-Bagginses won’t get THIS!” is very funny to me

I have said it before, I’ll say it again, Frodo looking in the mirror and going “geez I’ve gotten fat” will NEVER NOT BE FUNNY

“Frodo did not offer [Lobelia] any tea.” I hereby name you Frodo Sassville-Baggins.

Aww, the Gaffer agreed to Sam going to Crickhollow to work for Frodo!

If only he knew just how far he was really going

“…though it did not console him for the prospect of having Lobelia as a neighbour.” o7 for the Gaffer, everybody

And they had tea by themselves and left the dishes for Lobelia 🤣 FRODO SASSVILLE-BAGGINS

“‘Coming, sir!’ came the answer from far within, followed soon by Sam himself, wiping his mouth. He had been saying farewell to the beer-barrel in the cellar.” LOL

Also I can’t blame him, knowing what he’s walking into

“He waved his hand, then turned and (following Bilbo, if he had known it) hurried after Peregrin down the garden-path.” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE—

Frodo, whining: "My bag is so heavy" Sam, lying: "I could carry more, sir!" Pippin: "Oh no you don't, let him suffer"

Honestly the dynamic of this trio is super underrated LOL

I'm honestly not sure whether "well, we all like walking in the dark" is meant to be sarcastic or genuine—the way it's repeated later on makes me think it's genuine, but I can't be sure—so just to be safe I'm bringing the Frodo Sassville-Baggins score up to 2.5

I'm taking the time to read the walking bits slowly now, and honestly, the way Tolkien describes the countryside of the Shire is so beautiful. I want to go there, and I want to walk there, and I want to see what the hobbits are seeing. Every little piece of nature and topography elicits an emotion; from the enclosed safety of Hobbiton, cradled in its cozy little valley, to the great fir tree standing guard over the hobbits as they sleep, to the road winding endlessly on before them, promising still more work and beautiful scenery and adventures to come. Is this slow reading? Yes. But I love it so much.

Frodo wakes up and the first thing he does is grumble to himself about his back and neck. He really is an old man. I love him.

Honestly this entire scene is comedy gold

Frodo: "Wake up, hobbits! It's a beautiful morning." Pippin, a literal teenager: "What's so beautiful about it?" ROFLOL

Pippin, literally out in the middle of nowhere: "Sam, draw a bath!"

And for that, Frodo steals his blankets and makes him roll over. Frodo Sassville-Baggins score: 3.5

Pippin: "Water! Where's the water?" Frodo: "I don't keep water in my pockets!" SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 4.5

And then he makes Pippin come get the water with him, since he wants it so badly. I love Exasperated Older Sibling Frodo and I wish we got to see so much more of it.

Pippin, after Frodo randomly bursts into poetry: "Wow, was that Bilbo's poetry, or yours? It's kind of a downer."

I'm so glad they kept the "it's dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door" line in the movies, because it really is so good.

Sam's canonically good hearing returns!

Frodo suggesting they prank Gandalf for being late is honestly so cute lol

Twice in this chapter we get the eucatastrophe of Frodo just barely not putting on the Ring, right at the last second. The first time, the Black Rider just walks off on his own, and the second time the Elves show up and scare him off. I will praise Frodo's virtues 'till Spring turns into Winter, but I think this is clear evidence right from the beginning that Frodo was not, and could not, be saved from the temptation of the Ring by any virtue of his own. He is saved; he does not save himself. All of which is honestly very Christian of Tolkien.

Pippin, to Frodo: "All right, keep your secrets!"

I love the walking song. I might do a revised recording of it, if you guys will tolerate my singing voice again X-D

Can we just acknowledge how bad*ss it is that Frodo sneaks up and spies on a Black Rider, just out of curiosity?? Like, I know this is more a feat of stupidity than it is of courage, but given everything we know about them by the end of the book, that is honestly WICKED cool.

Sam, having to be dragged back by his arms: "ELVES! ELVES!"

GILDOR!!

GILDOR MY UNDERRATED BESTIE

I can't wait to draw Gildor. He's gonna be so PRETTY

"But we have no need of other company, and hobbits are so dull" is so funny tho

The Elves, with all the love in their hearts: "You can't sit with us, you're boring!"

FINROD MY MAN

I have not read the Silmarillion, but I know enough about it to know that Finrod is the G.O.A.T.

The Elves: "You're being followed by Black Riders?? Okay you're coming with us now"

Frodo speaking the High-elven tongue like a NERD

I love him

And Gildor immediately like "LOL y'all watch your language, the babies can understand us!" I love him dearly

....Okay wait I have a thought about the hobbits walking with the elves until they nearly fall asleep on their feet. A thought about soldiers and Tolkien's experience in war. Wait. I'm gonna have to make a post about this.

Eyyyy it's the Turin constellation!

Something about the Elven hall did indeed become a core memory for young Lady Glasses. I spent quite a few years building a fantasy world that would capture that sense of mysticism and wonder. Just like Sam and Pippin, I never really remembered the details, but the emotion stuck with me, and it enchanted my imagination.

The Elves bringing out a Thanksgiving feast and saying "sorry we don't have better food" is like going over to your friend's immaculately cleaned house and them saying "sorry for the mess"

Frodo speaking the Elves' language and charming them all is so cute

Sam falling asleep at Frodo's feet as he talks to Gildor is SO CUTE

“At last Frodo asked the question that was nearest to his heart: ‘Tell me, Gildor, have ever you seen Bilbo since he left us?’” OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT—

"My faithful Sam" UGH THE FEELS

Gildor: "But it is said: 'Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.'" Frodo: "And it is also said, 'Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.'" HAHAHA GETTIM FRODO

SASSVILLE-BAGGINS SCORE: 5.5

Gildor saying "you don't need to understand the Black Riders, just stay away from them" is honestly very Christian of Tolkien too. The best spiritual warfare advice I've ever heard is "don't try to understand demons; just get as close to your Protector".

Anyway Gildor complimenting Frodo is very cute and that is all

[wheneclipsefalls]

Ma Neteyam pt. 15

Pairing: Aged up Omega Neteyam x Alpha Male OC

Masterlist I Ma Neteyam Chapters I AO3

Warnings: swearings, violence, angst, trauma, oldest sibling syndrome, omegaverse, abo, power imbalance, dom/sub dynamics, stockholm syndrome, sexual content, etc.

Summary: It is time for Neteyam to face the music, or in this case, face Eywa.

A/N: This may have taken forever but I couldn't be more excited to finally post this! Thank you all for hanging in there. Let me know what you think<3

Neteyam idly ran his thumb over the curved carvings along the bow. It was pristine, beautifully mesmerizing with the hand carved designs running up and down the wood smoothly. He couldn’t have carved one better himself. His own bow back with the Omatikaya still had scratchings from his early teenage years where he hadn’t learned the art of wielding a knife carefully. 

“I’m afraid I’ve been slightly negligent with courting gifts and this one took much longer than anticipated.” Kxolo admitted, watching Neteyam diligently as the boy observed the gift. “Hopefully it is up to your standards, my love.” Hints of a fond smile were laced with the slightest flinch of nerves. 

“It’s beautiful.” Neteyam breathed. 

It was everything and more that the omega could have hoped for in a courting gift. The type of gift that he had spent far too many nights dreaming about alone in his hammock to one day receive from a handsome alpha such as Kxolo. It was moments like these that he found it terrifyingly difficult to not pretend their situation was normal. To pretend that Kxolo was simply another alpha who had strolled in and stole his heart through charm and traditional courting. 

And yet, that couldn’t be the case, because this bow symbolized more than love or desire to court. It showed that the Olo’eyktan was now officially trusting him with weapons. Were it a traditional courting such a trust would never need to be forged again.There never would have been a doubt in the first place that he would keep violence directed away from his lover. 

Neteyam wished that this realization alone would have been enough to keep affection from spreading  over his heart as he marveled at the tender care and effort that was put into the gift. It was disorienting and borderline painful that such conflicting emotions managed to cohabit his mind and heart. 

“It’s a start.” Kxolo corrected. “You like it then?”

“I love it.” 

“So then what is wrong?”

Neteyam could feel the radiating body heat coming from his mate as he shuffled to sit behind him, wrapping those muscular arms securely around his waist. Soothing pheromones came in gentle waves towards him, breathing in the musky scent that he knew only as Kxolo. It was no longer a thought that instigated his body’s reaction to his alpha’s face rubbing along his neck. Every reaction had become instinctual and impossibly difficult to go against. 

That is if he wanted to.

Did he want to? 

Silence hung as a heavy answer, enough to have Kxolo pressing further.

“Of course, I do not expect you to leave behind your Omatikaya bow. Perhaps I can send a good word over to your family and arrange for it to be brought over soon.”

The thought was almost laughable, especially with their reluctance to speak on the current trip Tamil was making over to the Omatikaya clan today. Neteyam didn’t need verbal confirmation to know that sending Tamil over specifically had been a strategic choice. And an even more strategic choice to keep Kxolo at home, far enough out of the range of his father's axe.

Neteyam could already feel the knot in his stomach tightening as he imagined the news being broken to his father. Neteyam had presented…and Kxolo had not stayed away. The only bright side Tamil could possibly present is still the lack of a mating bond. Even with Tamil’s calm countenance and measured words, it would not be enough to keep Jake from flying off the handle. 

Would it be enough to have his father, Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya clan, breaking peace in order to storm the village and rescue his son? Kxolo seemed convinced that it would not come to that, but the alpha always had a way of finding confidence in situations that Neteyam himself could not fathom. 

“No need…this one will do more than fine.” 

“I would be more than happy to take you out hunting, baby boy.” Kxolo paused, head swaying from side to side as he internally deliberated his next words. “Although I do recall your father once telling me that you often insist upon hunting alone at times, against his best wishes. Promise to be careful and I may be inclined to do so upon occasion.” 

Neteyam was nodding before the words had fully left his mouth. Promises of safety and caution rained from his lips and luckily Kxolo took them in stride with a chuckle and sweet peppered kisses. 

A viperwolf scattered along an overhead branch but Neteyam ignored it. A perfect hunting target and yet this newly crafted bow had only served as decoration thus far. He couldn’t even bring himself to load an arrow. Kxolo had left him alone to hunt at his leisure with an implied promise of bringing back a less solemn Neteyam. However, Neteyam knew where he needed to go-what he had to do. 

Every step on the path towards Vitraya Ramunong [Tree of Souls] felt weighted, the thumping sound ringing in his ears. He walked as if he could crumble under the true pressure of this impending moment, this occasion that could change his life. Neteyam was not one to underestimate the influence of Eywa’s conclusions. Amid his time here, however, the idea that Eywa was simply used as an excuse for this kidnapping had rooted itself deep into his mind. Never had he questioned her decisions because it had been obvious she played no real part in his current circumstance. 

That idea had increasingly become harder to hold onto and although a part of him didn’t want to know the truth, it was the right thing to do. His parents could only be held at bay for so long and Neteyam needed to know whether or not this mating would truly be worth going against them.

A mating that strong could only be one fated by Eywa. 

And yet when the shimmering vines came into view Neteyam could only feel a strong urge to bolt in the opposite direction. Perhaps there would still be time to get some hunting in after all.

He pushed the temptation aside and reminded himself that this was his responsibility. Framing tasks like that always made them easier to beckon because that was a concept he fully understood, one he was used to following ever since he was a small boy. 

The Tree of Souls was everything beautiful and more. 

How had he managed to stay away for so long?

Neteyam carefully lowered himself to his knees amongst the glowing roots. His bow was placed to the side and the omega spent more time than necessary putting it in the right place and fidgeting with his clothing. He even took time to bat away every stray hair sticking out from his braids. 

His throat constricted, feeling as if he had swallowed a yovo fruit whole as he reached behind to grasp his kuru. The braid was heavy in his hand as he brought it over his shoulder. The tendrils danced and waved in the breeze without care but even the thought of connecting it to a vine made his stomach flip. 

There was no turning back from this.

No matter the outcome he would no longer be able to sit idly in this gray area.

Fight his parents or fight the man who had captured his heart?

The dam broke. The last shreds of resistance keeping his emotions at bay burst at the seams and Neteyam could no longer fight the rising sob. The world mixed into a  blurry mess as large tears invaded his vision without reprieve. HIs lungs contracted and ached until the only sound in this oasis was his garbled sobs. 

It was complicated. Complicated and messy. 

There was simply no path that would be without heartbreak and trials. However there was more than struggle that awaited him, something deeper that raked his trepidation higher. 

Guilt.

Guilty for not trying hard enough to get home.

Guilty for pushing away a fated mate. 

Guilty for waiting so long to seek the truth. 

Surely even Eywa herself would look down upon his actions because Neteyam was raised better than this. He was the son of Toruk Makto, a Sky Person turned Na’vi legend. He was the son of Neytiri Te Tskaha Mo’at’ite who was only a young woman when she lost her sister and took her place in the clan only to then lose her father, home, and future role as Tsahik in one day. Neither had shirked away from the destiny Eywa had handed them. They had risen above their own expectations and became the people they were truly meant to be. 

They took world shattering news in stride before jumping into action and now Neteyam couldn’t even get himself to communicate with the Great Mother. 

This was not who he was supposed to be. Omega or not, Neteyam had always known he held the mantle among his siblings. What example was he setting for them?

The omega’s small hands covered his face in despair, foolishly hoping to hide his face from Eywa’s all-seeing eyes. 

“Neteyam?”

His sobbing choked into a garbled mess in his throat as he desperately wiped at his tear streaked face. It took several swipes for him to recognize Tamil’s figure in the distance.

He was back already?

How long had he sat there crying like a child?

“I-I’m sorry. I was just about t-to get back. Lost track of time.” Neteyam tried to dart to his feet but Tamil stopped him with a calm hand. 

“Mawey Neteyam. Stay.” Tamil’s voice purred forward with such tenderness and sincerity, Neteyam couldn’t help but relax back on his knees. Calming alpha pheromones radiated from him and although they smelt like stale dirt compared to Kxolo’s, the omega felt his muscles release tension. 

It was only when a small gargle sounded that Neteyam finally noticed the squirming baby in Tamil’s arms. The small child flopped to and fro as the alpha slowly sat across from him. Her eyes were the size of moons as they glistened in the glowing lights, chubby hands already reaching towards any vine she saw. 

Neteyam couldn’t pin down why if his life depended on it, but the sight of her made whatever resolve he had scrambled together break once more. The sobbing returned and no amount of self discipline could keep back is undignified crying. 

Tamil placed a comforting hand on the omega’s shoulder as he cried. 

The alpha didn’t speak. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t even urge the boy to calm his crying. 

He simply waited.

Tamil’s daughter simply watched on with curious eyes. Once the crying had become old news, she started to reach for some of Neteyam’s loose braids. A pout quickly formed on her lips when her father pulled her back from tugging on them. 

“Do you want to hold her?” Tamil asked softly. 

Neteyam nodded frantically, unsure of why he craved to hold the small child so badly. Tamil handed her over with such gentle care, Neteyam felt as if he was carrying the rarest jewel as he placed her on his lap. 

Although he tried to keep her neatly upright on his lap, she seemed to have other ideas. She could barely crawl but what she lacked in leg strength she made up for in her strategic scooting over his legs. Little huffs left her lips as she dug her nails in his legs and pulled herself forward. Those golden eyes never strayed from his swinging braids. She had a goal.

“What is her name?” He whispered, voice heavy. 

“Vili.” 

Finally her stubby fingers latched onto a braid and a delighted giggle escaped her as she tugged on it. Neteyam winced slightly but a surprised laugh replaced his sobs this time. Tears still rolled down his cheek but there was now something else to focus on. Her small body strained as she went for a specific blue bead in his hair.

“Apologies, hair is her current fixation. It is only by Eywa’s mercy that I am not already bald.” Tamil informed but there was anything but ire present in his tone. He laughed and tried to detach her vice-like grip from Neteyam’s braids. 

“It is fine.” Neteyam barely managed to get out, other hands softly stroking her thin curls. The touch snagged her attention, doe eyes looking up at him suddenly. When he repeated the action, Vili leaned into the touch clumsily. She released the hold on his braids and suddenly she was slumping against his chest, snuggling close. 

Another wave of emotion washed over him as he held the small baby close. 

“You are troubled.” 

“I…I was only…”

“It is fine, Neteyam. I would be concerned were you not.” 

Surprise flickered through him, eyes snapping up to meet Tamil’s. 

“I do not envy your position.” The alpha clarified, pulling Vili’s thumb from her mouth. 

It felt silly to be surprised by the statement but there were days where it seemed everyone took the kidnapping situation in stride,seeing it as simply a small hurdle for the new couple. Kxolo always kept a strong face, reluctant to let on his own concerns about the tension with the Omatikaya clan. 

“They are going to hate me.” Neteyam was startled to find what originated as a simple thought come out in whispered form, but since it was out, the words wouldn’t stop. “I was supposed to be finding a way to get out of here and yet all I have done is fail. No worse, I have gone against everything my parents have taught me and allowed myself to fall for the psycho that kidnapped me. I go to stop and back track….but then….I can’t. I’ve….I’ve betrayed my parents, my siblings, my clan! I’ve given over my own purity and now my parents will hate me. I am not the firstborn they deserve!”

Tears slipped down his cheeks so fast they began to drop on Vili’s head. Her nose scrunched in confusion before patting at her own head. 

Sharp teeth sunk into his bottom lips as he tried to hold back more disgraceful sobs. Although he was on the verge of breaking into a million pieces, there was satisfaction in having the words said out loud. As if they were something he no longer had to hold on his own. They were shared. 

Not daring to glance up at the alpha, Neteyam let the silence stretch between them.

“Vili had trouble breathing when she was first born.”

Neteyam quirked his eyes up finally. 

“Those were longest two minutes of my life. When she did start breathing normally I would refuse to take my hand off her chest. I fell asleep to the rise and fall of her chest. I say with no exaggeration, it was the most terrifying day of my life.” Their eyes connected, a seriousness falling over them.

“And without a doubt the greatest day I shall ever know. I thank the Great Mother for her every night.”

The tension slipped and Neteyam found himself smiling down at Vili who wouldn’t stop kicking her legs at his arm. 

“I do not expect you to understand, Neteyam.” 

Neteyam brows furrowed.

“Only a parent can truly comprehend what it means to love someone unconditionally in the way we love our children. But hear my words when I tell you there is not a single thing that my daughter could do to make me love her a morsel less. That will never change.” 

Neteyam gulped down the lump in his throat. Vili had found a new interest in the omega’s stomach, gummy mouth chomping down painlessly on his lower stomach. 

“Your parents love you. If I didn’t know it before I surely know it after today.” 

Neteyam perked up, hands already shaky in anticipation. 

“What happened? Were they upset?” 

“Naturally, but you need not over concern yourself. That is not my point.” Tamil, pursed his lips, lost in thought for a moment.

“Your parents love you and will continue to love you no matter what you do. You need not do anything to earn that love.”

The words turned over in his head on repeat. 

“But will they forgive me?” He whispered after a long pause, barely more than a breath.

“That assumes you have done something wrong.”

“Haven’t I?”

“Only one being can answer that.” He responded, ever so gently removing Vili from his lap. 

The Tree of Souls had never burned brighter, etching its presence into Neteyam’s consciousness until it could no longer be ignored. Biting his lower lip, the omega casted his eyes upwards as the sacred seeds cascaded down flawlessly.

“And if I don’t want to know?”

Already on his feet with Vili situated on his hip, Tamil paused and smiled warmly down at him. 

“You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” 

And with that, Tamil silently began to walk away. Before leaving however, he turned once more.

“Neteyam.” He called, causing the omega’s attention to turn. “I see you.” 

Emotion gripped at his heart as he quietly whispered the same back. Tamil smiled but left without delay. 

Echoes of the forest surrounded him in a gentle ambience. Subconsciously, Neteyam thumbed at the designs along his new bow. 

It was time. 

Afraid his nerve would be fleeting, Neteyam hastily threw his kuru back over his shoulder and let the tendrils connect to the nearest vine. 

He cleared his throat, expecting to follow his usual routine of addressing Eywa, but a light blinded him before there was a chance. The words were caught in his throat and the forest scenery melted away before his eyes. Panic went to a find a grip  but then something new washed over him. 

Peace flowed through him in ripples, the same pulsations of an active Tree of Souls. It thrummed through his veins in perfect time with his heart. Only blinding light could be seen but Neteyam was calm. More calm than he had been in years. A peace that he could only vaguely remember experiencing in early childhood. 

Eywa’s love wrapped around him in the same way his own mother had held him close as a babe. There was no judgment, no retribution; just love. His worries took the back burner as he settled into the feeling, no longer letting his brain overwork itself to understand the situation. He accepted the light, accepted the peace, and opened himself up like a flower does to the sun.

Slowly his vision began to recover, revealing the familiar forest before him. However, this time Neteyam found himself no longer underneath the glow of glimmering vines. Slightly startled and confused, he took in his surroundings rapidly whipping his head back and forth. His gaze snagged on Kxolo’s form and although it was surprising to see him there, Neteyam couldn’t help but feel relieved. 

“Sempu! He broke my bow!” A small girl bursted through the trees holding a piece of thin wood. She darted to Kxolo without hesitation, flinging her small body at his calf to cling to.

Neteyam blinked, heart racketing in his rib cage as he witnessed the events. 

He expected Kxolo to be surprised, perhaps point the small girl in the direction of her real father and comfort her along the way but there was not a flicker of hesitation in his features. Instead, Kxolo let out a long sigh and fought back what appeared to be an amused smile. 

“Alright alright, mawey, sweet girl.” He easily positioned her on his hip and the small child instantly tucked her face into his neck and sobbed. She was not easily consoled, despite his efforts to pry an explanation out of her. “Come now, show it to me.” 

Finally the girl reared back to look up at Kxolo. Neteyam he had never seen a more perfected pouty face in his whole life. Her eyes were filled with tears and small lips so expertly set the omega was sure this particular expression was a familiar one to her. Kxolo, however, visibly softened upon seeing her distress. 

He examined the small strip of wood with the other hand before smiling.

“It is not broken, my love. Simply needs some mending.” His voice soothed over her but the result didn”t last long. 

“I told you!” Another child bolted from the treeline, this one at least a foot taller than her. The boy pointed an accusing finger at her. “She is always tattling on me but I didn’t even do it because it not even broken and-”

“Mawey mawey.” Kxolo reassured but that stern steel laced his voice. 

“But sempu, she is always trying to get me in trouble!”

“I am not!” The girl wailed, tears coming back at full force. 

“You crybaby!” 

Neteyam jumped in surprise because that was not a Na’vi term, in fact it wasn’t Na’vi at all. The young boy had switched to English and to further his shock the tiny girl appeared to understand him perfectly as she stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Stop it.” Kxolo accentuated each word with a pointed look.

Although it had a unique accent coating the sounds, there was no mistaking the truth. Kxolo was speaking English. Brows furrowing, Neteyam found it hard to compute the new information. It had become clear that this scene had to be in the future at some point but how? When? 

“Now now no more of that.” Kxolo spoke again in Na’vi as he swiped away the girl’s tears. 

“I want Mommy!” She cried out in English, already trying to find a way out of Kxolo’s arms. The boy on the other hand seemed to have already moved on with a simple eye roll before jetting past the Olo’eyktan. Kxolo caught him before he could slip away, hand gently holding him by the arm. The boy huffed and yanked back with all of his force but it was no match for his alpha father. 

Neteyam felt guilty admitting it, but he was tempted to laugh at the scene before him. Both children trying to pull away and run off to get into trouble while Kxolo simply held them tight and patiently led them towards the lake’s edge. 

“But then I hits em with a jet pack.” 

Neteyam looked close to see which child had spoken but neither had stopped their whining for a second. Instead his ears twitched as he heard a different voice coming from the treeline, a strangely familiar one. 

“That is not how a jet pack works, paskalin.” 

It was a bizarre thing to hear his own voice out in the open air, different from the way it sounds in his head, however nothing could prepare him for seeing a clone of himself emerging from the trees. Exactly like him in every way but this time there were two children attached to his side, one in his arms while the other got a free ride by wrapping around his leg. Looking close he could see the difference in age slightly, along with a few new ornaments in his hair but there was no denying the resemblance.

It was him. 

“Okays but mine specials.” The small boy cling to his leg urgently claimed. 

“Of course, baby.” He heard himself respond, now switching over to Na’vi. In his arms was another small child but this one had to be barely old enough to talk, thumb in his mouth while that small tail tried to wrap around Neteyam’s arm. 

“Daddy!” The tiny boy abandoned him to run over to Kxolo, thrusting a stick with a few feathers up towards him aggressively. “Look whats I mades.” 

“Wow! That is fantastic.” The last word in English was barely discernible, the Olo’eyktan struggling more with this one in particular. Kxolo eyes shot to Neteyams and he saw himself shoot the alpha a small smile in approval. 

“I knows.” The tiny boy agreed, already confident that this fact could be nothing but the simplest truth. 

Kxolo didn’t have a free hand to commend the boy so his tail wrapped around him instead. A fit of giggle burst from the boy as the tuff of Kxolo’s tail tickled at his cheek. It appeared to be just the distraction needed as the Olo’eyktan was finally able to turn and face Neteyam with a grin. 

“Yawntutsyip.” He greeted with a smirk but the small girl was already reaching for Neteyam. 

“Mommy! My bow!” She whined, thrusting the piece out. Neteyam offered a few words of comfort before awkwardly taking the bow and managing to still keep a hold of the baby in his arms. It took less than a minute to slot the string back into place and hand it back. The tears stopped instantly. 

“Time to bathe.” Kxolo purred but outrage broke loose. The older boy in his grip groaned and went to dart away causing him to set down his daughter so he could use both hands to bring him back. The girl took this opportunity to run over to Neteyam and cling to his leg, promises of never bathing again falling from her lips. 

Meanwhile the smallest boy had already left behind his art and was sprinting straight towards the lake. Neteyam’s own heart lurched for a second in panic when those stubby legs hit the water’s edge but to his relief it appeared the boy was quite the swimmer. Future him seemed to know this too as he focused his efforts on swaying his daughter to get in. 

Kxolo and their son were the last ones to get in. The Olo’eyktan had the older boy tucked under his arm, his legs dangling to the side as he pouted. Once his father had placed him in the water he went to make another break for it but Kxolo was already three steps ahead of him, shuffling back and forth to barricade the exit. 

The smallest boy giggled as he watched his older brother and father interact. 

“My turns! Catch me Daddy!” He shrieked before going to run away. The tiny boy ran straight into his older brother and bounced backwards into the water immediately. He surfaced with laughter and to Kxolo’s luck his older son had finally given up playing this back and forth game. 

The Olo’eyktan chased his younger son through the rippling lake for several minutes until the tiny boy had to climb onto a rock for a rest. 

It seemed that harmony had finally been struck as the kids giggled and chased each other through the lake. Kxolo took their smallest child and placed him into a makeshift leaf wrap by the lake, just enough water trickling in to allow the toddler to splash and play. 

Even from a distance Neteyam could easily see the way Kxolo’s eyes scanned over his future self, hands quickly coming to follow the curve of the omega’s back. 

Neteyam glared back at him playfully, tail swatting at his arm. The Olo’eyktan was neither swayed nor put out by the response. In fact, his smirks tipped upwards as he finally yanked his omega into his arms at last. 

“And you question how we got so many children.” Neteyam said.

“I don’t recall you complaining last night, omega.” Kxolo whispered against his neck. Even watching the interaction Neteyam could feel his own body shiver with anticipation. His future self seemed to share the sentiment as he blushed. This time, however, that blush was not followed by shying away or trying to hide it but rather giving his mate a playful smile and reaching to connect their lips. 

Kxolo cupped each side of his face tenderly, soaking in every swipe of their lips together like it was the last breath he would be allowed to take. 

A glimmer of teeth shone through as neither was quite able to hide their smiles in the kiss. Even Neteyam’s tail lazily swayed back and forth in delight. There was not a hint of tension or stress present in his countenance. Neteyam’s hands hooked underneath the Olo’eyktan’s battle band for grip before rising up onto his toes. Kxolo’s responding laugh was more visual than audible. 

“Ewww! Dad!” The oldest son groaned, nose scrunching up in disgust. Their daughter on the other hand began to giggle and sashay her way towards them, eyes wide and intent. When their son went to protest once more, Kxolo playfully splashed back at him and that was enough to start a full blown attack from the children. 

Chubby little hands swatted at the water earnestly, hoping that their combined forces would be enough to take down their parents. When Kxolo’s head snapped in their direction they scattered, already anticipating his retribution. With a mighty roar he dramatically charged after them, gathering them up in his arms easily as they shrieked in delight. 

The forest colors became saturated until light was blurring around him in every direction. That beam took him once more and Neteyam could no longer see the young family in the lake. 

When Neteyam opened his eyes they struggled to make sense of the visual before him. Sparkling vines swung from overhead, bathing him in their glow. Limbs heavy and head pulsing, the omega finally realized he was now laying on his back underneath the Tree of Souls once more. 

To say it was disorienting to come back to reality would be an understatement. His mind felt like it was suspended between two different times, the present and future. The real shock, however, was the deep aching in his bones as he realized this future had not occurred. At least not yet.

But that path would only form if he decided to accept a mating with Kxolo. Everything in that vision was nothing but an idea, one given by Eywa, but still just a speck of what could be. 

However, there was one fact that still remained in the present.

One that was true and had been true for a while now.

He loved Kxolo.

He was in love with Kxolo.

No other person ran through his mind on cycle. No other person made him feel so safe and cherished. No other person had ever captivated his mind body and soul in the same way Kxolo had. Intentional or not, Neteyam had fallen past the point of no return.

He thought of his future self, the way he had radiated a happiness that Neteyam had never fully recognized in himself. A complete metamorphosis. Neteyam couldn’t deny that his future had never looked brighter than in that snippet of time. 

Hope was a flame burning ever brighter. 

For so long he had felt guilty for going against his father’s disapproval of Kxolo. He had wanted so desperately to become like his parents, who fought for their future. But now he could see that they too had to go against the expectations of the clan, mother’s parents, and the RDA all so they could pursue a future that others could not yet comprehend. 

To honor his parents legacy he could only be true to himself.

Now it was his turn to fight for the future he saw. 

“I really should be at communal dinner with Neteyam.” Vamai protested, fingers lazily shifting the cut berries back and forth. 

“You are eating here.” Her father quietly reminded her. Her parents had insisted on an intimate family dinner for the night but were the tension to grow any higher Vamai was sure it would cut off her air flow until she suffocated. 

“But Neteyam has been acting strange for a couple days so I really should be there to make sure he is alright.” She explained. “Olo’eyktan would want the same.” It never hurt to throw Kxolo’s name in for good measure. 

Her father sighed before putting aside his half eaten fish. 

“If Olo’eyktan is upset about your absence I will apologize myself.” He countered and her mother laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Vamai didn’t mean to be harsh towards her gentle mother but she couldn’t help but shrug the touch off. She was in no mood to be touched. 

Reluctantly accepting her fate, Vamai strapped herself in for the rest of a silent awkward meal. She wasn’t sure what her parents thought this would accomplish. It was not going to fix what had been done. 

“Epok says you are still not speaking to him.” Vamai’s father spoke in a smooth tone, even wafting calming pheromones her way. It was almost laughable the way they viewed her as a skittish prey ready to pounce away at any moment. 

“Well I am not related to him so therefore I am under no obligation to talk to him.” 

Her father’s composure cracked, brows knitted. 

“I take it you are still mad then.” Came his reply.

“Oh am I? I didn’t think that option was still available to me.” 

“Vamai,” Her mother tried to scold but it was more of a sigh to herself, a desperate plea to try and play nice. 

It seemed too that her father was struggling to approach the situation without things escalating. His tail stood on point and those ears were already perky and alert for any shift. 

“Settle, Vamai.” He warned but that spark of electricity was already vibrating through her. Sometimes that energy in her system flowed like a river, giving her the strength to push through physical bounds and explore to her content but other times it reacted like a live wire. It buzzed and hummed through her until she knew all those pent up emotions were going to fly out as lightning. 

Trying to keep it trapped in a box would only sour her mood in a different direction. Either it was going to come out in rage or it would flow as endless tears. She didn’t want to accept either. Doing so would push her parents to worry for her more. It was that same worry which had put them here in the first place. 

“Epok is a nice man, Vee.” Her father gently urged. “I was only trying to look out for your best interest.”

Lightning had always been her favorite. 

“So you hatch up schemes to mate us together? Going to him behind my back like that, convincing him to secure my hand? How is that in my best interest?” She shoved the leaf of berries off of her lap. 

“You have been stubborn. So unmovable from the beginning that you often get in your own way, sweetheart.” Her mother jumped in, her smooth voice such a harsh contrast to Vamai’s own distressed one. 

“That’s right. I’ve come to accept that you most likely will not want to mate with an alpha, your need to push at authority is something that I don’t anticipate going away, but that is why Epok was the perfect choice.” Vamai’s father added. 

Vamai’s jaw set so hard she could feel the aches settling into her back teeth. She fought the urge to grind them together. 

“He is strong, responsible, reliable, capable, and already shares a friendship with you. Not to mention holds a respectable status among the clan.”

“I didn’t ask for his courting profile.” Her cheeks began to flush a deep purple, the blood rushing to her head at abounding speeds. Eyes flickering to the door, possible escape had never looked more tempting. “Why would you try to make that decision for me?” 

It was evident that her father too was quickly losing his patience. Heavy breaths flared from his nostrils every time he prepared himself to speak. The civil temper in the hut was hanging by a thread and one that she was sure either herself or her father was going to snap. 

“I mean what did you think? Let us fuck enough times and I would fall in love with him?” 

It was her.

She snapped it.

And her father’s rage had boiled over. Once again her mouth had run away from her and had therefore put herself in the line of fire. 

“Vamai Te Zehu Sehu’ite, you will watch your mouth!” He towered over them standing at full height. 

It was only instinctive but Vamai still hated the way her ears pulled back and tears gathered in her eyes. Her omega was a whimpering mess and on the verge of surrendering to this fight. It didn’t matter though, she had dealt with worse. 

Although her father’s hands were balled into fists and scent wafting with anger, it seemed he too could sense her shift in emotions through that betraying essence. 

His voice softened, “I am less than pleased about the…manner of your relationship but once again Vamai it had only come to that because it was the only way you allowed Epok close to you. Every other suitor who has tried for your hand has been shoved away and rebuked by you. You must know that does not do well for a male’s willingness-”

“Poor babies.” She muttered, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door to their hut. 

“What your father is trying to say is that we are worried about you. Finding a mate is a joyous endeavor, but also a very important decision. It can be…painful at times to go without one, especially as an omega.” 

Vamai knew her mother was trying to speak from a place of experience but it was difficult to ever relate her own character to that of her mother. Her mother was gentle, soft spoken, kind and caring. Somedays Vamai felt as if she could not be further from the descent of her parents. 

“You act as if I will never get mated. It’s not as if I have sworn off the entire concept. Just because I don’t have feelings for a few village alphas? So what? You just said so yourself that the choice is important.” 

Her parents shared a look, one that made the electricity crackle in her veins. 

“My child,” Her father crouched down and reached to cup her cheek. Those calming pheromones prowling once more but Vamai scowled back at him. “Your path thus far has been a rocky one. One that I would have never wished upon my only daughter.”

She reeled away from his touch. 

“That’s what this is about? You know I will get mated but you don’t trust my taste.” 

Her father’s gaze snagged her own and it took every fiber in her to hold the look.

“I made one mistake! One. Is that what you want me to admit? Tenatu was a mistake! I was young and foolish and let my emotions get the best of me. I know that, believe me, I will never forget it!”

“Vee” Her mother's soft voice cooed but Vamia was already pulling away from her gentle touch.Too scrambled and on the edge of a breakdown to think, she grabbed her small pouch and shoved the weird neck comm into it before her parents could see what it was. 

“Vamai, do not be hasty.” Her father warned, but she was already parting the hut flaps.

Anxious for a quick retreat, she was not prepared to bump into a hard chest. Vamai stumbled backwards as two hands went out to steady her. 

“Oh, Vamai. Are you alright?” Epok asked, trying to help the small omega get her footing. 

She scoffed, ripping her arms from his grasp and turning back to her father. 

“What a wonderful dinner you had planned, sempu.” She gritted out, face already turning a darker shade with rage. 

She didn’t allow either male to speak, didn’t give them the time to persuade, justify, or defend their actions. It was clear that tonight she was in fact the fool. 

So Vamai did what she knew how to do best.

She ran. 

“I’m not in the mood, today.” Lo’ak grunted out, storming away from Amnu.

His father had been raging since that morning per the news. Lo’ak was surprised both of his parents didn’t jump the messenger Kxolo sent, no matter how soft spoken or gentle he was about delivering it. Regardless, that anger had shown through in training. Jake had run the warriors down to the bone, merciless with his corrections of every single infraction. Each screw up had come with a consequence, reminiscent of Jake’s military days and something Lo’ak was all too familiar with experiencing. 

At the end of the day, he was exhausted, infuriated, and craving nothing more than to speak with his feisty omega. As tough as Vamai thought she was, her insults could do nothing more than brighten his day. 

“It is true then.” Amnu said, ignoring his warnings. 

Lo’ak grinded to a halt. With a bone chilling stiffness, he turned to face the other alpha male. 

“What. Is.” He hissed, teeth already preparing to tear the male limb from limb. It had been too long of Amnu’s pursuing and nagging. 

“What they say of your brother. He is mated with that psychotic Olo’eyktan.” 

Their game of chase quickly flipped on its head, Lo’ak’s long legs carrying him towards the male in stomping fashion.

“It is not.” His five fingers splayed over the male’s chest, pushing him backwards until he stumbled slightly. “Watch your mouth.” 

Amnu held his arms up in surrender, lips turned downwards. 

“Fine. I do not protest. In fact that is good news, especially considering our deal.” 

Lo’ak could already feel his sore muscles bunching up. This was not the conversation he needed today. 

“What the hell are you on about, Amnu?” 

“I’m talking about when I covered for your ass a few weeks ago. I was under the impression you would bring home a certain pretty omega. And yet, no Neteyam.” 

“First of all, I never promised you anything. You were the one that wanted to help get Neteyam back. Secondly, your help was nonexistent considering I still got turned over within a few hours.” Lo’ak’s hands balled into fists tight enough to mark half moons into his palms. He was in no mood to be tested, even less so engage with some horny entitled alpha. 

“You know that I would treat him better than that brain dead Olo’eyktan. You and I want the same thing.” 

Lo’ak swore he heard his teeth crack from the pressure of his clamped jaw. Amnu’s confidence, however, appeared to know no bounds as he calmly pushed forward. 

“Even if he has been,” Amnu paused, lips pursed while looking for the right term. “Sullied, you could say.” 

The first swing was instinctual. Lo’ak neither needed to think nor decide to give him a right hook. The second, however, was more precise, more intentional. Both made his knuckles ache, but it was more than a worthy cause. 

“You keep my brother’s name out of your filthy mouth!” 

Amnu stumbled and poked at his now bleeding lip but his features too soon morphed in a display of fury. 

“You seem to forget that before this whole mess I was courting your brother for months.”

“Oh really? Is that what those pathetic gifts were? Truly, I thought they were some garbage toys for Tuk.” Lo’ak sneered, ears pointed and alert for the receiving attack.

And it came. 

The other alpha rammed into him, bringing them both to the ground in a tangle of snapping jaws and swinging hits. Admittedly, Amnu got his fair share of hits in, but Lo’ak’s restraint was quickly circling down the drain. It was true that Amnu had been relentlessly pursuing Neteyam but his desire was no match for the swirling emotions that had been spiraling in Lo’ak for months now. 

So he channeled it.

Every jab, tug, and punch was fueled by that turmoil. 

Every day that had been spent trying to keep that fire inside, trying to fill in as a good older brother was compacted into his anger. Amnu made some scratches, even managed to pounded in some deep bruises but Lo’ak was less than deterred. 

He rolled them over, straddling the male and pushing him into the dirt violently. Amnu growled and squirmed but Lo’ak knew how to position his body so that escape was not his to be had. He pinned Amnu’s neck down with his leg, the pressure not enough to cut off the airway but still able to cause great strain. 

“You think that beating me up is going to bring him back?” Amnu’s hoarse voice egged him on. Another hit to the jaw. “It’s not my fault you failed.” 

And that’s when Lo’ak let the floodgates open.

Lip bleeding with scattered bruises along his stomach and face, Lo’ak stomped back to his hut. The fight had dialed his adrenaline to eleven and yet it still left him unsatisfied. In the end he had been triumphant but what did it really matter? Amnu was the least of his problems. His mother and father were sure to be fighting once more as they struggled to keep their emotions in check and find a solution. His older brother was swaddled in the arms of some asshole and his own love life was keeping him up at night until his training was suffering. 

Settling into his hammock, Lo’ak had never been more grateful to have a place to call his own. It gave him the solace and time to think that he required on days like today. 

“Lo’ak.” 

He shot upright, eyes scanning the ground for the earpiece faintly making the sound. He tried not to dwell on how fast he scrambled to respond. It had been a hard day. He deserved to hear her voice. 

“Little snitch, well well well. You do know how to start a comm link after all.” He struggled to keep the words light. Vamai had a knack for creating this playful conversation between them, however he was sure she would not describe their interactions in the same light. 

“Yeah….guess so.” She responded and Lo’ak blinked. 

“What are you up to?” He hesitantly veered forward, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Nothing really.”

Lo’ak brows furrowed as he winced and pressed on his bleeding lip.

“Nothing, huh? It’s kind of hard to do no-”

“Why are you talking strange?”She interrupted. 

“Strange?” He mumbled while pressing the cloth against his cut. 

“Yes, you sound different.” 

He paused for a moment.

“Oh that. I have a cut on my lip, just a minor-”

“How?”

It wasn’t rare for Vamai to be so blunt, but Lo’ak couldn’t help but notice her sudden attention. 

“I got into a fight. Nothing major, just the usual banged up cuts and bruises.” He shrugged, laying back down on his hammock. Talking to Vamai was meant to be his escape from the events of the day. The last thing he wanted was to get into the details. 

“And you have seen tsahik.” 

Lo’ak grimaced at the idea of facing his grandmother at a time like this. The last thing his family needed was to worry about the injuries his heated temper had bestowed upon him. 

“Well, I don’t think now is a good time for that. My family is a little…disarrayed.”

The silence hung heavy for a moment and Lo’ak found the questions at the tip of his tongue begging to let loose. He didn’t want to think about Neteyam or the Olo’eyktan or any of his problems, but there was always a temptation to beseech Vamai. Surely she would know if the rumors were true. 

“I can patch you up.”

His thoughts reared to a stop. 

“What? What do you mean?” He sprung back up in his hammock, muscles aching from the sudden strain. 

“Patch you up. Heal your injuries.”

His fingers ran over the neck comm, making sure there were no missing parts that could be distorting the signal. 

“Yes I….you could.” He swallowed. “Are you offering?” 

“I suppose so.” Came her reply and Lo’ak just about nearly fell on his face as he scrambled to unwind the hammock around his legs. What had gotten into her? Most nights he was lucky to get a ten minute conversation with her and now she wanted to see him? But not only that. Heal him, take care of him.

Although a primal part of him purred at the idea of his omega warming up to him, his suspicion couldn’t be ignored. 

“Meet me at the bottom of the waterfall.”

Lo’ak hastily agreed but there was no reply. 

The waterfall, the same waterfall he had jumped down after her. The same waterfall that at the bottom of he had tasted her essence for the first time. 

The same place she had forbidden them of speaking about for weeks. 

On the ride over Lo’ak struggled to suppress his urgency. He told himself over and over that it was sure to be a joke. Vamai had been…compliant with their comm conversations but any speak of meeting up again had ended with radio silence. He told himself that she was simply playing a prank on him and that the day would once again end with another disappointment.

It didn’t stop the flutter in his stomach, however.

A flutter that had burst into an avalanche when he landed to find her petite form sitting against a tree, arranging bowls of healing ointments. 

It couldn’t have been more than two weeks since he had a waft of her perfume but a serge of primal emotion swept over him at the familiar scent regardless. It rolled forward memories of how that essence had complimented her taste perfectly, of how she had moaned out his name and squirmed against his gripping hands.

More than anything however, it brought forth the memory of her small form in his arms. The way she had slept so softly against him. 

Now, however, that fleeting tinge of peace that had been present in her pheromones was nowhere to be found. In fact, Vamai sat still. So perfectly still and stiff that it had sent chills down his spine. He tried to get a read on her scent but there was a messy sprawl to it, like a tangled web holding what lied beneath. 

“You showed.” He forced on a smile as he rounded the tree. 

Vamai stiffened and nervously shuffled the bowls into a random order. 

“I said I would.” 

The anxious demeanor immediately put him on guard. When he caught her hand that was reaching for another bowl he spoke softly. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t do that.” She shoved him off. Weirdly the aggressive action felt more like her usual self. He leaned into it, hoping to press some sort of reaction or answer that would make sense. 

“Why not?”

For the first time upon arriving her eyes met his. They burned with a formidable rage but there was a shimmer of waterworks lined over them as well. Her lips quivered and immediately, Lo’ak’s tail jerked up on alert. 

“Vama-”

“Can you please just hold still so I can do this?” Vamai snapped. 

And although a part of him stirred at her disrespectful tone, even his alpha knew how to detect an omega in distress. He sat back on his knees quietly. 

She didn’t meet his eyes while preparing the healing balm, letting her wavy hair create a curtain to hide. Vamai was stoic as she began rubbing ointment into a cut on his collarbone, but there were tell-tale signs that Lo’ak couldn’t help but focus on. Her small fingers trembled with every motion over his cut. Although it stung, Lo’ak didn’t so much as flinch. 

Her golden orbs dared a glance at his beaten features. 

“You got injured like this how again?” She whispered, eyes intensely trained on the already treated cut in front of her. 

“A disagreement.” 

“Skxawng.” She huffed, but there was a waiver in her voice. “With who?”

“Just some moronic alpha that has an obsession with Neteyam. Thought it was his place to make swift judgments.” 

Her hand paused and from his vantage point Lo’ak could just barely make out her sharp teeth nipping into her bottom lip. 

“And he looks worse than this, right?” 

“Of course.”

Vamai nodded, shrinking back into her hair once more.

“Good.” 

Her touch became softer, increasingly more gentle when running over the bruises and cuts. She avoided his face, however, tending to every other area first. It tied a knot in Lo’ak’s stomach to see her this way. Quiet. Withdrawn. Small.

Vamai was often like a ticking bomb. On some days he couldn’t help himself from chasing to set her off, to get her to reveal something of significance. Their connection was real, he knew it and there was no denying that she must have felt it too, but he could never figure out what the big hold up was. 

However, he knew on certain days that it was crucial to handle her with care. If he had learned anything about bombs from his father it was that the smallest and seemingly most inconsequential moves were that same that had them blowing you to bits. 

Breath held in his lungs, Lo’ak ever so lightly rested his palm against her lower back. At first it was soft enough to be mistaken as a brush of wind but when she didn’t pull away, he allowed his hand to flatten across the soft skin. 

He couldn't see her face, couldn’t get an accurate read on her but her scent shifted dramatically. Then suddenly she was resting her forehead against his chest. His other hand dug into the dirt as he fought off every instinct to brush her hair away and see what was really happening. 

His patience was not tested for long however.

The shaking began and then came the sobs. 

Tears rained down on his chest as Vamai crumbled against him. 

His body reacted before his brain could catch up. She didn’t fight him as he pulled her to sit on  his lap and latched his muscular arms around her. Calming pheromones drifted from him without thought but nothing could mask her own essence projecting sadness, longing, and…fear.

His brows furrowed, terrified for a moment that he had become the source of this turmoil, but then she leaned closer until her face was burrowed in the crook of his neck. A shiver ran down his spine as he once again experienced this long awaited contact. 

Cheek laid against the top of her head, Lo’ak focused on keeping his breathing consistent and calm, something his omega could latch onto. It took considerable effort as his alpha was pulled between two different desires. To coddle and to protect. Surely this onslaught of emotions had to have an origin, one that his alpha was eager to exterminate.

How long had she been feeling this way?

Regardless, Lo’ak forced himself to remain calm and keep her bundled close against him. 

He hated to see her so distressed and yet it had never felt better to have her in his arms, to finally express his adoration through a physical outlet. 

Her wavy hair tickled at his nose as her sobs quietly rang through the air. One of her small hands found purchase along his battle band and Lo’ak’s heart fluttered in his chest. Daring to push the boundaries just a little further, Lo’ak carefully pushed a few curls away from her forehead. 

Her face was still buried against his neck but he could see the tears streaks staining her gorgeously soft cheeks and lips. He took it as a good sign when she didn’t correct this action, but Vamai wouldn’t open her eyes either. He wondered what secrets hid within those golden eyes. What sorrows she held at bay. 

When the tears had ceased neither Na’vi moved. 

She fit so perfectly against his larger form, tucked away where he could protect her from these invisible dangers. Pride swelled in his chest when Vamai shifted to tuck closer and relaxed in his hold. Long fingers skated up and down her spine, fiddling with the feathered straps intricately woven there. 

Incidentally his pinky brushed her curling tail. 

To his utter shock and delight that thin appendage curled around his wrist.

He looked down but her eyes were still shut. Staring for a moment, he thought that perhaps she had drifted off but then golden eyes peaked up at him through slanted slits. Immediately they closed against and Vamai shuffled to hide against his shoulder. 

He suppressed a chuckle, knowing she would bite back at him for finding the action cute. 

Instead he allowed himself to breathe in the moment. Silence was not a common occurrence between them, something he was unfamiliar with in their dynamic but he found himself enjoying it. It gave him the opportunity to fill his lungs with her essence, allow it to imprint itself into his mind, because he was not foolish enough to believe this would last forever.

At some point Vamai would remember who was holding her and remember whatever reasons she had for keeping him at arm's length. Then he would be back to chasing her, back to wrestling the omega into facing her own feelings. It was a challenge Lo’ak was willing to face, but it came with lonely moments too. 

It would be worth it though. 

This he knew as he brushed another curl from her temple. 

Kxolo believed he had a knack for patience and keeping a cool composure. That is, before he had met Neteyam and the omega had easily turned him inside out. 

It wasn’t uncommon to hunt solo for a few hours. Two, maybe three hours was normal. But when hour four hit, Kxolo could no longer keep his nerves at bay. He raced through the forest, barreling through bushing and scaling overturned trees within his path. 

Worst case scenarios tumbled and tangled in his mind, tormenting him endlessly as he ran. 

Neteyam had been off that morning. His head had been far away from the present and Kxolo regretted ever letting the omega out to hunt alone in that state. The forests of Pandora were not for the faint of heart and definitely not for those distracted. He could only imagine what creature had found him as prey. 

Kxolo’s hand was drawing up to unsheath his knife when suddenly a familiar figure came into view.

Instantly the Olo’eyktan sagged in relief. 

“Neteyam.” He breathed. “There you are, baby boy.” 

He sheathed the dagger once more and quickly went to embrace the omega. Neteyam fell into the hug easily but his tail flickered back and forth in anticipation. Kxolo’s own tailed pointed in alert. 

Holding the boy back at arm’s length, Kxolo scanned his slim frame for injuries. 

“You aren’t hurt, are you?” He asked with brows knitted.

“I’m not.” 

Kxolo beamed, nerves finally washed away. 

“Come, I will help you bring back your kills.” Kxolo urged, taking him by the hand. 

“Kxolo”

“I must admit you had me worried, little one.” The alpha chuckled, hand squeezing the smaller one in his grasp. 

“Kxolo.”

“Yes love.” He hummed, focusing on following Neteyam’s footprints back to his hunting grounds. 

“Kxolo.” Neteyam firmly yanked on the male’s hand, causing the alpha to immediately spin on his heel to face him. The Olo’eyktan’s ears perked up. 

“Neteyam, what-”

“Mate with me.” 

Thank you all for the support and patience! As always, your feedback and comments not only mean the world to me but also motivate me to write more. Can't wait for Chapter 16!

Taglist: @tallulah477 @kayjaydee17 @itchaboi-itchyboy @theunfortunateplace @perfectprofessorloverapricot @neteyamssyulang @4ashes-stuff @creepytoes88 @young5643-blog @glass-rosette @namjooncrabs @softsnowydreamer

Please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the Ma Neteyam taglist&lt;3

[viburnt]

Hiya, sweetpie! ♥ I've been thinking about being in a relationship with Alpha Dabi and Omega Shigaraki (hope you haven't explored this idea previously)

Hi, Douma! Thank you for requesting love <3 I'm very happy to see you here. I had never explored ABO before, so this was really fun!

CONTENT WARNING: NSFW, sex mentions. It's kinda implied that it's bit of a poly relationship since I wasn't sure if you wanted them separated or together at the same time.

Alpha Dabi and Omega Shigaraki with you

• Omega Shigaraki didn't quite had the opportunity to nest as a kid, which is bad considering all Omegas start nesting at a young age. He is not very sure of how to do it, nor if he is doing it right. Tenko likes to take your clothes from time to time, specially shirts and hoodies, to build his little safe space: pillowcases, sheets, blankets... he just takes what he can and tries to make it pass as a nest. It's endearing, really, specially when you find him curled up and sleeping after a long evening gaming. You keep a secret photo album of him sleeping.

• He is very sensitive to your scent, normally asking you not to wear perfumes because he likes how you smell. It bothers him that Dabi is an Alpha because his scent tends to compete with yours. Omega Tomura is also very whiny and needy when it comes to you, specially during his heats. He drags you to his nest and cuddles you to his heart's content, even if it's embarrassing for him (of course sometimes it'smore than cuddling).

• Talking about heats with Shigaraki, you'll be busy for a while. Dabi hates when Shigaraki gets his heat because his own hormones go bonkers, and Shiggy doesn't let Dabi near you until he's done. You spend a lot of silent nights making that man whine and cry while you satiate his need of uh- yeah.

• You have to clean the stuff of his nest with regularity after his heats because it just ends up being a nasty mess-

• Alpha Dabi also has his perks, specially when it comes to being protective of you. He is shameless whenever he talks about you, sending dirty smirks and making innuendos when a friend (or Shigaraki) ask where you are: "Oh, they're just sleeping in my bed. If you catch my drift..." "Last time I saw them they are between my legs, haven't seen them today-"

• Dabi doesn't understand Shigaraki's need of a nest but he tries to be nice about it since you insist. He often asks if you need a nest too (that, of course, depends on your type). If you happen to be an Alpha or a Beta, he'll just tease by saying "he'll build you a nest to fuck you nice and good"; if you're an Omega, he's more responsible and actually tries to make and effort with your nest (fails, but he tries).

• Touya is the kind of Alpha that is always rubbing on you, he doesn't know how to keep his hands to himself. It doesn't matter that Shigaraki complains about his scent on your body, he will make sure everyone can smell him on you.

• His ruts are... intense. You need quite the endurance to stand his stamina, and he will not waste a second to take what's his by right. During this time, he doesn't allow Shigaraki to spend a lot of time with you, often leading to arguments that are solved with long steamy make-out sessions and too many hands on your body.

• Alpha Dabi likes to make you wear his jacket when other Alphas are around (specially if you happen to be an omega), he thinks you look ridiculously cute with it. Also the kind that gives you dumb nicknames thinking they are cool but they're lame and sappy.

• Being stuck in the middle with these two sometimes allows you to see some unique dynamics you never expected to see between the two. Alpha Dabi and Omega Shigaraki tend to act like brothers from time to time: they fight for your attention, one wants to shit on the other, they snitch when they make a mistake to be your favorite... "OK, who left the toilet seat up again?" "Dabi-" "YOU FUCKIN RAT-"

• When you're not around, they tend to annoy each other with the stupidest things. Curiously enough, they sometimes work together to do nice things for you (or mischief). It's also hard to keep the place tidy with two gremlins like them.

• Sex with them is also complex. It's a constant power battle between the three, even if it's not what you guys want. Dabi wants to top you, while Shigaraki wants to do it too, and if you ever want to top it's the latter who wants to be selfish with your ministrations. Omega Tomura is very... eager in terms of you domming him. He'll of course enjoy the power trip that mounting you gives him, but he prefers it when you make him cum until it's unbearable and some tears roll down his cheeks.

• Alpha Dabi teases Tomura a lot for this, but low-key enjoys having two bitches whining under him. He'll push that knot of his inside you until you're practically trying to push him away.

"Fuck, you're so tight-" Dabi groaned, shoving his dick inside you while his hand pressed your face into the mattress. He'd been fucking you senseless for a hot minute, his rut being unbearable without your inviting body. Shigaraki was watching the whole scene display as he palmed his own cock, whining and whimpering with every carnal sound that escaped your lips. "S-shiggy, look at me- Oh, God!- Look at me, baby." You panted, your voice cracking as Dabi's knot finally reached its rightful place. "Ha- You look so sexy filled with me. Can't wait to do it again." Dabi growled, biting your skin in a territorial way.

You didn't know if it was good or bad luck to have those two with their respective heat and rut at the same time.

The omega seemed happy with that arrangement though.

[lossie92]

Since you asked, here's a snippet from the beginning of my kakairu abo fic.

It currently has no title, but the entire story is already planned. I'm pretty excited about it tbh. Despite loving this ship so much, I've never written a fic about them before.

Hope you enjoy!

-

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, mentions of domestic abuse, description of injuries

-

"S-sorry," he managed to say towards his feet, his throat tight. It felt like he was going to start crying any moment now and"I didn't… I-I wasn't looking wh-where—"

"Iruka?" 

That voice was unmistakable. It was just his rotten luck that he would bump into Kakashi now of all times.

"Iruka, are you alright?" Kakashi prompted as he pulled Iruka more firmly against his chest, one of his hands settling on Iruka's back while he moved the other to gently tilt his face up. "Hey, sensei, talk to me. What—" 

The alpha paused abruptly the moment he could see Iruka's face. Iruka could almost feel that keen dark eye watching him as Kakashi took stock of the bruises, the blood, the tears that finally started to fall. Whether he said anything or not, it wasn't going to take a genius to figure out what had happened to him and Kakashi was far from stupid.

"Who did this to you?" Kakashi asked a moment later as if to prove Iruka right. His voice was measured, but it was also very obvious he was doing his best to hold in a growl as his anger could be easily felt through both his scent and chakra. "Iruka, who did this?"

"I— M-Mizuki and I… we just… it was—" 

He couldn't for the life of him find the right words to explain the situation. It was one thing to know Mizuki had attacked him in a fit of jealousy and another to admit to it outloud. Somehow it felt as if saying it would make it more… real.

"Did you argue? And he struck you?" Kakashi asked, apparently able to read between the lines despite Iruka not saying much at all.

"Y-yes." The admission felt heavy – heavier than expected – but it also somehow made it easier for him to speak. "He got angry and… I had to leave. I c-couldn't stay there. I j-just—"

He inhaled sharply when Kakashi's thumb brushed against his cheekbone, wiping away some of the tears.

"It's alright, you don't have to explain," Kakashi told him. His voice was impossibly soft, though there was still a certain edge to it. "Should I take you somewhere safe? Do you have a friend you could stay with? Anyone you can trust?"

Something inside Iruka seized painfully when he realised he couldn't point out even one person.

All of his friends were Mizuki's friends too. They grew up and attended the Academy together. Most of them were peers too, either from the same graduation class or team, often both. Asking them for help would mean not only explaining the situation once again, but also forcing them to pick a side – to pick one friend over the other. On top of that Iruka couldn't help but worry he would be the one blamed for how things turned out. 

That fear alone was more than enough to make him shake his head and say, "No. There's no one like that."

[archonsoflove]

Ships included in order of appearance:

Tartaglia / Zhongli

Cyno / Tighnari

Alhaitham / Kaveh

Il Dottore / Pantalone

Zhongli / Reader

Tartaglia / Reader

This is a long one! I'll be updating it regularly as I read more that I enjoy ~

exodus 20:3: you shall have no other gods before me (Explicit)

Childe finds out that the alcohol in Liyue is a force to be reckoned with. It leads to much more than just a hangover.

ajax's adventures with Dog-Lizard (Fluff)

That’s got to be the weirdest looking dog Ajax has ever seen in his life.

after hours (Explicit)

A man is approaching him with a bundle of hardware, straps, and coiled ropes in his arms. He’s wearing a tailored suit — definitely expensive — but missing a tie, and his shirt is unbuttoned far enough for Zhongli to see a nasty set of scars that run across his chest.

He’s very attractive, a little intimidating, and not at all what he’d imagine an accountant would look like-

law and order (Explicit, ft. Neuvilette)

This can’t be the accountant, can it?

There seems to be more than meets the eye when it comes to the Chief Justice and the God of Contracts. A simple trip to Fontaine with Ajax for a vacation turns into something more than they both anticipated.

ceci n’est pas la perfection (Explicit)

After Zhongli asks Childe to marry him, Childe panics and runs away to Fontaine to sort out his feelings. Rejected and confused, Zhongli chases after him to try to understand why.

contractual obligation (Explicit, ft. Lumine)

“You drew up a contract for what?” Lumine stares at her lunchtime companions, jaw working, no further words coming out. When she’d received an invitation to lunch from Zhongli, she hadn’t expected much.

fishbowl:heaven (Suggestive, Angst)

Childe, a world-class professional runner, is reeling from a diagnosis with a terminal heart condition. Stuck in bed with a failing heart, he can’t run, travel, or do anything that gave him purpose before. His career and life appear to be over.

To help him adjust, the doctors prescribe Childe virtual reality therapy. He doesn’t expect much to come of it until he meets a mysterious fellow patient, Zhongli.

etched in stone (Explicit, Fluff, Slice of Life)

I Lie Awake In The Night Just To See Another Dawn (Explicit)

A trip through the ages as Zhongli and Childe learn what it means to love each other.

Childe has returned to Snezhnaya, Liyue has moved on from Osial's reawakening. But war on the borders lying between Fontaine and the land of ice looms ominously on the horizon. While war seems inevitable, and politics begin to shift, Zhongli knows he will follow Childe to the ends of the earth, even if it costs him the highest price.

old instincts die hard (Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)

Is the life of one mortal worth the death of a God?

After spending the greater part of his life all too used to the threat of a blade being drawn against him, Childe has learned not to trust a hand raised toward him, lest it seek to strike while his defenses are lowered. But now in a fresh relationship with Zhongli, he finds his old instincts standing in the way of enjoying something more with the man he's come to adore.

Childe's guide on what to do when your lover turns into a pint-sized dragon overnight (Fluff, Humour)

red thread (Explicit)

When Childe and Zhongli first began their relationship, Childe thought he was prepared for whatever Zhongli might throw at him. Draconic heats, Adepti courtship rituals, scales - he was ready for anything. However, waking up next to a tiny, chubby dragon was not something he thought he’d have to consider.

Childe's face burns. “Zhongli,” he hisses. “This is the theatrical performance you wanted me to attend?”

red heart, orange sun (Explicit, ABO dynamics)

wait, is this play about us? (Explicit)

Four occasions that make Childe’s heart race, for a variety of reasons.

dragonheart (Fluff, Implied MPreg)

Zhenyu's next best-selling light novel has finally arrived in Inazuma! Childe definitely was not expecting to star as the main protagonist when he picked up the new collection, though...

a wasp in every fig (Explicit)

A tsmok of the north meets a dragon of the east.

venus caelestis (Explicit, NSFW Art)

Zhongli tries something different, and Childe is a very, very good boy.

the heart beats in its cage (Explicit, Angst)

childe hasn't spoken to zhongli in 3 weeks, but through the misfortune of becoming afflicted by an aphrodisiac, he finds himself at zhongli's door in search of help

an age of gods and monsters (Mature)

“So, pretend I’m her. Just for the night, one night, you can have her back.” Childe curled his fingers into the front of Zhongli’s shirt. He hoped he sounded self-assured, not desperate.

my all (Explicit, Angst)

When Liyue faces an inevitable catastrophe, Childe finds himself back in the past to retrieve the Gnosis that Zhongli has lost. Perhaps if he returns to the present with it, both Liyue and its Archon can be saved.

tame the thunderclouds (Explicit)

Childe asks Zhongli for one last dinner before leaving Liyue. Zhongli accepts.

more espresso, less depresso (Fluff)

it is a privileged sight for zhongli, to bind the eleventh harbinger and force him to his knees.

set in stone (Explicit)

There's a quaint little coffee shop that catches Childe's eye as soon as soon as he arrives into town. The man that works inside is more exhilarating than any drink Childe has ever tasted.

promises and proposals (Explicit)

What do you do when you write about a certain six thousand year old consultant so much in your letters that it somehow convinces your entire family you're not only dating each other, but that you're also engaged?

lithic oath (Explicit, ABO dynamics)

Childe and Zhongli have been happily dating for nearly a year, and they’re just as in love as ever. Zhongli is perfectly satisfied with the state of their relationship, but an unexpected development between two of his closest friends spurs him to consider his future plans with Childe. And just maybe he’ll need to pick out a ring one of these days.

as the sun gazes upon the moon (Explicit)

Liyue Harbor is the last place on Teyvat that Ajax wanted to see a second time, but the Tsaritsa's orders are absolute.

Childe is lost to the abyss for a week.

calm my head (Explicit)

hook, line, and sinker (Explicit)

Zhongli wants to try something new, and Childe would simply agree to anything when he's caught between his thighs.

off the record (Explicit)

Childe once saw a glimpse of his nerdy Uni roommate Zhongli, and it was over for him. Cue the pining, the moping, the fucking around to forget the sight of those rock-hard abs hidden underneath those sweater vests. Just one problem: Zhongli thinks exactly the same.

stone endures, and the tide will always return (Explicit)

An important meeting is coming up. A last minute change radically alters Zhongli's plans.

the fox of feiyun slope (Explicit)

The cobblestones of Liyue Harbor have been replaced by asphalt, the buildings by sleek skyscrapers and storefronts. Rex Lapis is a figure in the history books, nothing more, and the Harbinger Tartaglia is barely more than a footnote in his long and storied legacy. No one believes in the old Archons anymore.

night time; tea leaves; good company (Explicit)

A certain fondness for a client was good; it made the job easier and the quality of the work more genuine. Zhongli had never once gotten attached. He didn’t expect this boy to be the first.

frame the wallflower (explicit)

Lonely nights are best spent over pots of tea in good company. In terms of tea, Zhongli already knows what he likes. In terms of company - he makes a discovery.

Childe, a young CEO of the multi-billion dollar company “Fatui”, is dealing with more inappropriate gestures and remarks in regards to him being single than he cares for. Zhongli, a consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Home, is going through a financial crisis, with every possible liability hitting him at once.

wrapped up in pure gold (Fluff)

When ranting to each other over drinks one night, they come to the most absurd solution to both of their problems: pose Zhongli as Childe’s boyfriend and sugar baby, just until everything settles, of course. Childe has more than enough money to spare, Zhongli doesn’t mind helping a friend in need, and their arrangement is flawless. At least, it appears to be that way.

nodus tollens (Explicit)

Childe accidentally proposes to Zhongli. Zhongli accepts.

one of us dies tomorrow (Explicit, Angst)

In all his years in the Fatui, Childe has never had problems following through with his archon’s orders. That is, until The Tsaritsa sends him his final mission--to leave Snezhnaya and marry the Geo Archon, Rex Lapis.

swore to stone and spoken (Explicit, ABO dynamics)

Tomorrow, Tartaglia will take Rex Lapis's gnosis or die trying. Today, Childe gets a final chance to tell Zhongli how he feels. No misunderstandings, no betrayal, and no doubts.

erosion (Mature)

It's been some time since the whole "nearly destroying Liyue" thing. Zhongli has decided he wants their pair-bond to be mutual and asks Childe to mark him. Childe has an existential crisis.

slow embers (Fluff)

There are two things that make Childe who he is--one is his Archon, with her icy fingers and arctic voice and eyes that see into every part of him. The other, as it turns out, is Zhongli.

why does my baba call my teacher baobei? (Explicit, Fluff)

Childe returns. He and Zhongli go on a food tour.

“Guili… over here!” a gentle velvety voice rings through the huddle of parents greeting their children.

man i love fishing (Explicit, Comedy)

Guili perks up at the sound, screaming “dada” and drags Childe towards the most ethereal man he’s ever laid his eyes on.

before it winds down into memories (Explicit, Angst)

Childe’s disastrously down-bad for the MILF next door.

pick me up, take me home (Fluff, Angst)

Childe has his doubts, but Zhongli reminds him that he’s loved.

ganymede (Explicit, Comedy)

Zhongli and Childe finally reunite, but Zhongli didn't expect his beloved to arrive bearing injuries instead of a long-awaited embrace.

“Can we get a room with two beds for the night?” Zhongli asked.

phantom lines (Explicit, Fluff)

She looked through her book of reservations before furrowing her brow. “I’m sorry, gentleman, but the only room I have left is our Honeymoon Suite.”

some kind of resurrection (Explicit, Comedy)

In which Childe has insomnia, vandalizes public property and runs into a mysterious funeral consultant on his first night in Liyue.

between the raging tides (Explicit, Hurt/Comfort)

After overhearing a fascinating story about an obscure temple tucked into some corner of Liyue Harbor, Childe had only meant to have a little fun at Zhongli's expense; he'd earned at least that much after the Osial Incident. Unfortunately for Childe, his track record at outmaneuvering Zhongli isn't exactly stellar.

i wake with your memory over me (Explicit, Reincarnation)

“Isn’t this backwards, Morax?” There’s a mocking edge to Childe’s tone. “Since when do gods get on their knees?”

the white cicada society (Explicit)

Zhongli has lived, died, and remade himself eight times when he sees him again.

The murders aren’t limited to the one Bank. They’ve been trailing down the Liyue border, getting closer and closer to the city. The Tsaritsa has a new mission for him: to figure out who, or what is targeting Fatui forces.

divine intervention (Explicit)

Against his best wishes, Childe is forced to see Zhongli again at the morgue. It becomes clear that he’s going to need a guide, and Childe resolves to quash his pride, and their differences to request his help to navigate Liyue and solve the case.

jade without blemish (Explicit, Mutual Pining)

“The only thing that can counter the mark of an Abyss Lector is the essence of an archon,” Zhongli explains, not meeting Childe’s eyes.

a kiss to show my sincerity (Mature, Fluff)

The Emperor and Empress of Liyue were known throughout Teyvat as a loving and powerful couple. But behind closed doors, it was all an act. Needless to say, a certain Snezhnayan diplomat's trip to Liyue did not go as planned.

“Childe?” Zhongli walks over. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” he croaks, pretending he didn’t think that Zhongli looked outrageously pretty in his clothes.

“Your face is red. Have you fallen ill?”

introspection (Fluff)

“No, no, no. I’m fine. I’m peachy. ” He says, like a liar.

"Ah... a lizard."

As far as stupid things that Childe has said through his life, this easily contended for the top position on the list.

between dreams and nightmares (Angst, Mutual Pining)

A dragon. This was a dragon. Which is arguably also a lizard.

What I Cannot Put into Words, I Offer You in the Weight of Gold (Angst, Pining, Fluff)

When the Abyss clings onto a person, it follows—and in this case, it follows Childe to his station in Liyue, leaving three of his companions with a puzzling missing person’s case and, for Zhongli, unresolved feelings that weigh on his old soul, alongside a series of strange dreams.

meteor shower (Explicit)

Childe processes just how different Rex Lapis, God of Contracts, and Zhongli, Wangsheng Funeral Consultant, really are. They coincide at the worst of times, and it does some truly awful things to his heart.

How would it feel to fall in love again? To be held, live in the present, and enjoy a mortal life?

Care to Learn More About Wangsheng Funeral Services? (Explicit, Comedy)

If only a God could ever experience such pleasures and luxuries. They are short-lived and not worth it. At least that's what Zhongli had thought until he truly tried it. But the past will always come back to hunt the God. Happiness truly is a luxury.

the autumn winds are sighing (Angst, SickFic, Fluff)

“Zhongli…” Childe whispered as quietly as he could, which wasn’t hard due to the shock of the situation. It figured that between getting married to an Archon, becoming immortal, and having to deal with three other Archons circling around their business that it would be Zhongli’s fully mortal employer that would really pull the rug out from underneath his feet. “Did you agree to let Hu Tao give a commercial for the funeral parlor at our wedding?”

It’s been two months since the storm, and Childe hasn’t seen Zhongli not even once, not since that fateful meeting with the Signora where the truth is finally unveiled.

the world is water (Explicit)

And what a fun little kick to the gut that is, the realization that not only had he been played by all sides, but he's also being tossed aside like trash now that his use had run its course.

Childe doesn't visit Zhongli until it's almost too late.

andante, andante (Fluff)

a cheating man's bouquet (Explicit)

higher education, falling in love, and genius invokation tcg. not necessarily in that order.

you're exactly what i need (Explicit)

a married man flirts with tighnari at the flower shop so cyno decides to put the man in his place the next day.

verdant304 (Explicit)

after sparring with Alhaitham, Tighnari tends to Cyno's bruises

After being pushed into a corner, Tighnari takes unsolicited advice from his university project partner Alhaitham and tries to sell lewd pictures of himself on the internet. That was the idea anyway, in practice he can't take a good picture to save his life.

a cure for denial (Explicit, ABO dynamics)

Luckily, his estranged roommate Cyno has a knack for taking really good pictures...

scientific curiosity (Explicit)

Tighnari asked for help dealing with his heat after being on suppressants for ten years. Cyno was more than willing to assist.

Led by the prospect of an exciting botanical discovery, Tighnari heads into the Avidya Forest and invites Cyno along. Little do they know just what kind of discoveries await them there.

i'll show you every version of yourself tonight (Explicit)

“When we have sex, you like to call me things,” Kaveh continues, trailing off into a whisper.

Alhaitham props his cheek on a hand, looking only slightly amused with where this is going. “What things?”

dancing in the refrigerator light at 2am (Explicit, Hurt/Comfort)

“Like… like, pretty– and such.” Kaveh’s pout deepens into a frown. “Do you mean it?”

tracing other people's poetry (Explicit)

The people of Sumeru are granted dreams, and Kaveh is given nightmares. Now, Alhaitham does whatever he can to help quiet down Kaveh's mind in any way he can.

Three or Four (Or Possibly Five) Easy Steps to Living Harmoniously With Your Roommate (Fluff, Comedy)

Alhaitham has yet to identify this feeling that resides in his chest, this heavy and all-consuming, unpredictable feeling, whenever Kaveh is involved. He wants to open himself up and crack his ribs into tiny chucks, to remove them from their places and peer inside his heart so that he may finally learn what lives here.

in a language he understands (Fluff, Angst)

Kaveh devises a plan to get Alhaitham to smile by being aggressively nice to the man (and also maybe if he makes Alhaitham happy, he can score a discount on his rent or something). Alhaitham thinks Kaveh ate some mind-altering mushrooms and is, understandably, confused and mildly afraid.

Kaveh used to think that Alhaitham had mastered the art of ignoring him. The man would remain unflappable as he continued to read his worn copy of The Origins of Enkanomiyan Language, even when Kaveh was a hair’s breadth away from shattering the windows of their house with his severity of pitch.

No amount of screaming, threats to throw things, or violently waving in front of him could get Alhaitham to pause in his thirst for knowledge. As it turns out, Alhaitham literally just turns his hearing aids off so he doesn’t have to listen to Kaveh.

Romantistique (Explicit, Fluff, Angst)

It’s for this exact reason that Kaveh has decided to learn Sumerian Sign Language.

ships in the night (Explicit)

As it turns out, the journey to falling in love is a long one.

between you and me, the universe slips by (Explicit)

Kaveh is tasked with securing the funding for Kshahrewar from the Acting Grand Sage. Things get complicated.

mortise & tenon (Explicit)

A month ago, Kaveh appeared, disrupting Alhaitham’s quiet life and became his roommate. In less than a week, Kaveh left the house in anger. When he returned, it was the night of Alhaitham’s birthday. A year later, Alhaitham will celebrate his birthday again. This is a story that takes place within the span of a year and a few months. A story where Kaveh finds a grandmother’s unfinished wish, completes it for her grandson, and finds love again.

forbidden fruits of knowledge (Explicit)

Beautiful, he wants to say, the word saccharine on the tip of his tongue. His initial assumptions are false—no marble pillar can shiver as beautifully as this miracle of flesh and muscles and tendons, wonderfully reactive. Kaveh wants to take him apart, unravel the threads of his relentless rationality until nothing remains of him but this humanity, all this softness that does not quite fit right with the rest of him.

Kaveh bites the inside of his cheek, his head full of images of all the possible positions a man can lie with another. It’s unsettling how vividly he can recall the pleasure of something he’s never done.

he talks the talk alright (Explicit)

He really should have known better than to use a suspicious knowledge capsule. Much less one called The Arts of Men: Advanced Techniques Vol. 1. What was he thinking?

Alhaitham tinkers with a pair of Akasha terminals. While Kaveh is away in the desert for a project, they use the devices to indulge a little.

discordant intervals (Mature)

the art of drowning (Explicit)

Dottore sulks during a celebratory banquet. In his enduring generosity, Pantalone offers him something to complain about—the threat of a good time.

After a gruesome mission, Dottore knows just what Pantalone needs. It goes without saying that relaxing is hardly the right word to describe the events that transpire.

exuvia (Explicit)

i am all your sweetest tunes (explicit)

His heat did not come around often and both of you took the opportunity to indulge in this fleeting time for as long as you could.

as gold as the ginko trees (Explicit, Plot Heavy)

Zhongli has been with many partners throughout the long years of his existence, humans and adepti and archons of all genders and backgrounds. But you...you’re unlike any he’s ever laid eyes on. He can’t get enough of the taste of your skin, or the way you blossom under his touch. It’s intoxicating.

Life at the monastery has been nothing but peaceful, in no small part due to the protective seal that keeps the village safe. When the shrine holding said seal is destroyed, panic sets in as the village is now in danger of any Archon war aftermath.

The people are desperate for protection, and when Morax makes an appearance in your tiny village, the people are ready to make a deal no matter the cost.

tricks of the trade (Explicit)

tastes like heaven (Explicit)

When an operation goes tits up and you have to flee, you find a handsome young man to help with your get away. When you discover the fact that this handsome young man is not only an enemy agent, but a Fatui Harbinger you find yourself in more danger than you ever could have expected.

Childe is the accomplished one, between the two of you. He’s the one with twenty-three restaurants spread out across Teyvat, sixteen Michelin stars to his name, and a reputation of being Masterchef Teyvat’s toughest judge, despite being the youngest.

All this, and it’s your warmth he’s lapping at like he’s never tasted anything like it.

[one-of-tankhuns-neurons]

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN PIT BABE IS ABO

How did I walk into UNTAGGED ABO IRL this hAs to be a first for me.

I mean, I understand they might've not wanted to market it like that to start a drama, or mAybe I'm just plain stupid and this was public knowledge but anyway here are my thOughts

Imma quote my favorite BL of all time and say "It cOuld be Extraordinary" I mean, it really could.

I believe the first episode was just to set the scene for the show, but let's address specific points

I WANNA MAKE IT CLEAR THAT I DIDN'T READ THE SOURCE MATERIAL THANK YOU

1. The ABO

Let's get this out of the way we knOw it's a difficult topic, and my main concern with it was that they would adapt some random ass manga/manhwa just to establish a bullshit dominant vs submissive horny dynamic that ended up in a very polemic mpreg.

But I encountered either a 'hot omega' - 'dorky alpha dynamic' where both have issues with their second sex traits (specially pheromones) or an alpha-alpha relationship with the same issues, which could lead to a bUnch of social commentary using the ABO social hierarchy.

Apart from that, I believe using those resources for the first big ABO production might have been a good call to ease the general public into it and not dwelling on the full nesting-marking-knotting and whatnot. I mean, it probably might never reach the full power of the genre, but if it works it might crack the door open for this.

2. The story itself

I had this discussion with my best friend (who has recommended me most of the ABO I've read) and we came to the conclusion that this feels like watching something straight out of AO3 fanfiction where the characters are clearly already established (bc the characters come pre built as they're based on ActUaL people) so the point is just telling this story full of made up violence, mafia, infatuation, possessiveness and desire. I kind of love it??? I am obviously not judging it as an ordinary BL, but for what it presented on the first episode it really could be great. I love how we have been introduced to a character like Charlie that will not just be this helpless boy that gets thrown around, he has more agency than we thought.

3 Production and stuff

Oh I love cars and stuff that goes fAst and slicked back hair and blue vs red and ALL the cliches, and I feel like it's done well. We could hate on kinnporsche for many things but it rOse the standards for commercial production. It also has really good actors whose previous work I've seen and liked very much. I also really applaud them for taking this shit seriously, bc many people half ass their acting in strange situation and that shows professionalism.

4. the more I think about it the more I'm excited for the show, and that's bAd because I'm building expectations and that nOt good so here are some point that require attention.

The ABO. This will be an issue until the lAst second of the show, because the way that it is portrayed will be perceived as a direct representation of the whole genre, so they ought to be careful.

The ABO agAin.. what parts are they gonna portray and hOw, because the main couple is not the only one, so I want to know how they will present an (explicitly confirmed) omega and how it will play into the social hierarchy . They already introduced scent and pheromones, and they did it tastefully, so kudos on that.

The ABO.. I'm kidding.

The story, this story might play into some kind of toxic and violent stuff that is becoming a bit problematic for certain audiences, and as I say.. problematic shows and up in problematic situations, so how I want to see how it plays out. But the fact that Charlie is giving 'morally gray that could end up falling' vibes and that gives me hOpe.

The discourse it might start. Oh this world can be a hot mEss and people could start a whole ass battle as this genre that usually was counterculture territory is now brought into this context.

Shit I'm way to nervous about this show... PLEASE IF YOU KNOW MORE let me know, I want to discuss and have a better opinion on it. If you need to call me an idiot in the process I'll take it.

[theluckywizard]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Ohhh thank you for asking me 🥰

Fic Author Self Rec!

Tagging @crackinglamb, @monocytogenes, @blarrghe, @melisusthewee and @the-rebel-archivist

I will open with my SUPER RARE PAIR FIC

Love at First Fight

M!Cousland/F!Trevelyan. Rated T. WC 5,962 Summary: 9:25 Dragon. Years before he became the Hero of Ferelden, Aedan Cousland competes in the Tantervale Grand Tourney melee final against a surprising opponent: fierce, sharp-witted, and unmistakably talented Marie Trevelyan of Ostwick. And he can’t help but feel a little bit smitten when she clobbers him. Lucky for him, there's a banquet afterward.

This is an OC exchange fic I wrote for Windwalker57. Aedan Cousland and Marie Trevelyan are both his OCs! It's a charming tidbit of backstory that I had a blast expanding on. It's full of flirting and banter and tournament fighting (and tavern brawling) that I researched to death. Guest appearances by Nathaniel Howe and Thom Rainier!

Rumors

M!Hawke/F!Trevelyan. Rated T. WC 2,189

Summary: Returned to Skyhold from Crestwood, Hawke's been dogged the whole way back by rumors about the nature of his relationship with Inquisitor Rose Trevelyan. His old friend Leliana wants to know what his game is.

This is a companion fic to my longfic In the Shattering of Things, but it's one I'm super proud of. It's a delicious peek into the larger I've created, into the POV of my charming, romantic, silly Garrett Hawke who's fallen for my Inquisitor Rose Trevelyan. I loved capturing the dynamic between him and Leliana with all the history between them and this moment where he needs to decide if he's going to settle for the way things are or tell Rose how he feels. It's a favorite of mine!

Unvarnished

Blackwall/F!Trevelyan, Rated E. WC 3,648

Summary: The Herald of Andraste disappears up to the lake for a swim on the hottest day of spring in the Hinterlands. Blackwall supposes he'd better make sure she isn't prey to bandits or demons and finds himself searching the lake for her in a panic.

Clinging undergarments and more proximity than they've ever had sparks an unexpected blaze between them and unleashes parts of Blackwall he thought he'd long buried...

I wrote this fic on a whim when a friend of mine told me there was a shortage of Inquisitor/Blackwall fics 😅 I was not expecting to enjoy writing in Blackwall's POV as much as I did but BOY HOWDY. I did. If you're a Blackwall appreciator, I would humbly recommend it!

Some Kind of Witchcraft

Cullen/F!Trevelyan, Rated E. WC 2,214

Summary: Inquisitor Rose Trevelyan is away clearing rifts along Sulcher's pass but she leaves plenty of reminders behind for Cullen to find while she's gone... and after she returns!

OK, I can't not include some Cullen stuff. This piece is just darling. It captures the really playful dynamic between Cullen and Rose, and honestly playful banter and joyful smut is my bread and butter.

annnnd laaastly my long fic! It's still a WIP, but updated regularly.

In the Shattering of Things

F!Trevelyan/Cullen, F!Trevelyan/M!Hawke, Rated E, WC 417,309

Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

OK. This has devoured my brain for a year and a half now and I am *still* trucking. hmmm what can I say about it? It's really my exploration of what it's like to find yourself and try to love others when the world is falling apart at the seams-- and it's up to you to hold it all together. It's messy. People behave suboptimally. Love sprouts in unexpected places. My protags: ROSE. MY CHILD. Importantly she's a 'rogue' Inquisitor (she'd lol at the idea that she's a rogue though). She's funny, plucky, doing her best. I think she's extremely relatable. She screws up. She's got a fight instinct that far outstrips her combat capabilities. Her victories are hard earned and often costly. But I think she's a character that my readers love to root for. CULLEN (well. everyone knows Cullen). I just love this man. I write him as a man who was recruited to do one job and then whoopsed his way into a much bigger one and he is OWNING it. But I adore Rose and Cullen both rising to the occasion together. And I love writing him learning how to want things for himself.

HAWKE. My goofy king. He barrels into Skyhold like a wrecking ball. An affable, devilishly charming, romantic one who is eager to help fix the chaos he unwittingly unleashed. He's got such a big brother personality and he's a wonderful mentor and companion for Rose who is really just figuring shit out. Heart of gold with an ocean of pain underneath.

ok and a BONUS one that is unpublished, but I will link my tag for it since there are tons of snippets of it. It's my WIP.

Kiss Me Moonstruck

I'm about 35k deep right now, but it's a matchmaking fic set during Satinalia in DA:2, Act 2 where Leandra Hawke and Alsatia Trevelyan conspire to fix up their children Garrett and Rose who emphatically do not want to be fixed up. It's a romantic comedy romp and I am super proud of it. It's a great fish out of water examination of Kirkwall through Rose (it's in both her POV and Garrett's) and is packed with class commentary. I can't wait to publish it!

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Make Wishes Come True

🩸Previous Parts Here🩸

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heats, mpreg), alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, cursing, hurt/comfort, d/s undertones, fight for control, weapons, mentions of knife play, gun play (seriously it gets weird), threats, teasing, accidental proposals, simulated blowjob (on a gun), needy boys, name calling, fingering, improper use of a weapon, spitting, biting/marking, dirty talk, controlled sex, messy orgasms, piss kink/omorashi, accidental kink play, cum marking, mentions of docking, body worship, foreskin play, joking with each other, happy boys, enemies to lovers 💣 Rating: explicit af

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

It was a long ass day getting everyone settled, they'd ordered beds for one of the apartments to house the omegas and made another one into an office for The Doctor. At first Blain had seemed worried he'd be staying with the others but after getting food for them all they took him upstairs, giving him a bedroom across from Tom's. The flat was starting to get cramped and Colson was surprisingly happy about that. He always wanted a big family he just hadn't expected to end up the mother of the group. The title still didn't feel like it fit.

They'd spent so long focused on their people they hadn't even discussed what to do about Megan. It was a constant fear in the back of his mind but by the time night fell he was far too tired to worry about it. That was a Monday Kells problem and it was still thankfully Sunday. At least for a few hours more. “I gave Blain one of the company credit cards and an iPad. Told him to order whatever clothes and shit he wants for his room.” The omega sighed as he came out of his quick shower and found his mate sitting on their bed. Dom smiled up at him and held out his hand.

“Tha's sweet tha’. You sure you ready for ‘is? I mean we bout to be parents anyways but… a teenager?” Dom whispered as he pulled his lover close and took the man's towel to dry his skin for him.

“You mean a second one? You're barely older than him, babe. I'm not worried. Rook was about that age when we took him in.” Col shrugged, sighing happily at the feel of his partner massaging and drying his thighs.

“I feel older. He's just so ‘urt. I don't bloody get ‘ow he ended up ‘ere. I want to ask but I don't want ‘im feeling interrogated.”

“We got this. I'm way more ready to take in a pissed off teenager than pop out a kid. A teenager can defend himself, dude proved that today. I can break our baby just picking it up wrong for fucks sake.” He hadn't voiced a lot of his fears but as always it felt safest in the dark in their room. Dom always reassured him and kept them safe.

“You'll be amazing. You already are.” The Alpha soothed, kissing over Colson's belly after he dried it gently. Thankfully their little one was settled for a while and the omega hoped that meant he could get some real sleep.

“You're not changing your mind are you?” He asked softly, carding his fingers through wild hair. He just needed to keep his mate as close as possible.

“Course not. Jus' felt guilty. Already moved me and Tom into ya flat and now wiv the baby I worried you was jus' saying yes to Blain for me.” Dom rested his chin on the swell of their child. Colson was mostly dry but he kept his hands rubbing knots out of the older man's lower back, his fingers occasionally teasing the top of his ass. He wasn't sure what the mood was so he left the option there.

“Nah. I adopt strays and Tom likes me better anyway. You, however…” The omega teased but the pout his partner gave him was enough to stop him from going further. He could tell when there was a hint of real emotion and the boy obviously needed to feel loved. “You're my family. Full stop.” He tried to mock the Alpha's accent. “So are they and so can he be. I take people in if you haven't noticed.”

“I know. Fank you. You me family too.”

“Duh.” Col teased as he crawled into his mate's lap. With his belly between them it was getting harder but Dom kept him balanced. Their lips met gently as he reached under the killer's shirt, his touch ghosting over the other's skin.

“Should marry yas.” The Alpha purred when Colson pulled off his tee, it was an offhanded thought but one he knew in his heart was right.

“Pfft. You should. I'm fucking awesome.” Kells wasn't really paying attention, not anymore, at least not to the conversation at hand. He'd had a stressful fucking day and he wanted his bitch nude. He wasn't sure what they would do after but that was the first step.

“No Cols- fuck. Alright, never mind.” Dom finally gave up when the older man started pawing at his pants. Both their fingers reached for the buttons and got tangled, making the process even slower. After a moment he huffed softly and swat Col’s hands away which seemed to make the other man even more aggressive. Instead of fighting for his zipper the omega tangled his touch in his psycho's hair and yanked his head back till his throat was a long line to explore with his teeth and tongue. “Shite, it's like tha' is it?” The boy hissed, getting a growl in return. “Can't get out me pants wiv you like tha'.”

Kells grumbled, pushing Dom back onto the bed roughly before crawling off to stand in front of him. “Get them the fuck off then. Hurry. You know you already pissed me off today. Ruined one of my favorite hoodies. Took my kill. I should kick your ass instead of letting you have mine.”

Dominic obeyed his lover but whimpered internally. He'd hoped they'd get to be a little soft together but his mate obviously needed an outlet for the rage that filled him all day and the nervous energy of losing control of a situation. He could be a good bitch though as long as he got to feel loved after. “Wha’ ya want? You talking a lot but not saying nuffin. I'd give you me arse but it ain't like you can use it.”

Col’s eyes went wide. The way his partner back-talked him felt like their first time together. He normally enjoyed Dom pushing back but he still wasn't sure what he needed. “You think I can't fuck you?”

“Not wiv tha' belly in the way. But I fink you got a big mouf for such a pretty lil omega.”

The omega in question had left his gun on the bedside table instead of the safe with all they were going through and in the next moment he was moving to grab for it and turning it on his mate. Of course he wouldn't shoot him but he could still threaten and the way it made his lover look at him always got him wet. “That's fucking it. You think I've got a big mouth? Bitch, have you seen you? Maybe you just say you hate these things because you really like them too much. Is that it? I mean you say you hate Alphas but you're just begging to be topped. Fell in love with me didn't you? Starting to make me wonder here.”

Dom swallowed hard when the weapon’s barrel slid up over his throat to tap against his lips. He arched a brow but opened, teasing his tongue over the cold metal. He trusted his man and he knew it was perfectly clean. Colson felt warmth rush straight to his core at the sight of the boy's lips wrapping around his gun. Sometimes it truly was an extension of himself and he'd never thought it could look so overwhelmingly erotic.

“I could fuck you with it. You'd let me, wouldn't you? You like being my sweet little whore so fucking much you'd bend over and let me shove it up your ass.” He didn't know where the words were coming from and he knew he probably shouldn't say them. When Dom whimpered he knew they were crossing a new line together and they couldn't come back. Not that they'd want to. He pulled the barrel free and pointed it at Dom’s temple before he tossed it back where he picked it up. “But nah, you fucking hate those things.”

Whatever noise Dominic made was barely human but he couldn't swallow it down. The exhilaration of the moment didn't die even when the weapon moved. They'd played around with knives but never really that and while he wasn't really sure of his answer he was glad not to actually need one, with Colson he'd almost always say yes. Whatever had happened it seemed to be over, the omega needed dominance and he had it in spades. “Use me, whatever you need. M’yours.” He vowed, his hands shaking as he pushed off his slacks completely and curled his palm around his aching dick. He was hard before but now he was throbbing- his cockhead shiny with precum and his knot already pulsing, ready for whatever the hell was next.

Kells stood back and watched his good boy squirm for him. He didn't know what he wanted but he was almost scared to touch. Dom was the sociopath but he had self control problems. He'd already backhanded him twice, bit, and shot him, and now he'd threatened his ass with a gun. Literally. He wouldn't kill him but there was a part of him that needed to own him so completely there would never be a question in the killer's mind. The boy had stalked him but sometimes he felt insane in the way he loved him. As if he could devour him. One bite at a time. The Alpha already had a few scars to prove it.

“Did I do summat?”

“No, shut your mouth. I just haven't decided what to do with you yet. Did I say you could speak?”

“No but ya didn't say I couldn't. You know me mouf. Only one way to shut me up.” Dom sighed, flicking his tongue out to wet his plush lips.

“Oh yeah?” The man's voice went raspy. He really loved his mate's mouth. He had to clench his thighs to try and keep his slick from dripping on the floor but he knew it was a lost cause. “I should jack off and make you watch for that.”

“Yeah alright. But wha’ a waste of a good whore.” The normally good boy was being a right bitch and he damn well knew it. He needed to be touched even if it was with a rough hand.

Colson’s eyes flashed gold and narrowed, his lover was trying so hard to push his buttons that it gave him an idea. One that would keep him from worrying about what he might do in the heat of the moment. “You know what? No. You want me so fucking bad? I get to be the doll tonight and you take what you want.”

That stopped Dom in his tracks and he knew his eyes were crimson and wide as a deer's as he stared back at his omega. The man had to know something like that would worry him, it felt too much like being one of the Alpha's he hated. His pulse raced in his chest and sweat broke out over his skin. He accidentally squeezed his own dick too hard and had to let himself go. “Wha’?”

“You heard. Get off the fucking bed.”

Dom stumbled off the mattress and Kells took his place, letting himself spread out and stretch, arching his back just like he knew the boy liked. “Five.” He sighed as he relaxed again, folding his arms under his head and letting his thighs open. “Four.”

“Fuck.”

“You might want to touch me. Three.”

Dominic growled under his breath and fit himself between the man's legs. He waited for the next number to be uttered with a nervous smile on his face. He knew the other understood his plans but it was still something he couldn't pass up.

“Twooh fuck-” He stopped counting when his mate buried two fingers inside his drenched walls. He wouldn't torture his bitch completely but they both knew they needed more. He didn't really even want to start with foreplay, he wanted to be ruined. He wanted to feel like they took a part of each other for keeps.

“Dripping for me. Look at ya. Such a pretty wet cunt.” The Alpha didn't normally dirty talk, he left that up to his more experienced dominant but for once he let himself use his mouth for more than pleasure. “So tight for me. Can't never fuck ya open, can I? Feel like a virgin every bloody time. Sometimes ya do even bleed for me.”

Colson shivered at the darkness in his lover's tone, he wasn't used to him talking like that and the more Dom focused on his core the wetter he felt. Every thrust of his touch squelched.

“Kept me leashed all day, shoved a gun in me mouf, keep bragging bout fucking me but can't. Now ya jus' wanna lie back and get fucked? Fink you deserve tha'? Fink ya pussy tha’ good?” Dom swallowed hard, the scent of Col’s slick was heavy on the back of his tongue and it was starting to hit him; he could do whatever he wanted. Part of him wanted to eat his lover out but he knew that wasn't what they both needed. “Ain't knotting yas. Ya too close.” He huffed, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to his baby mumma's belly. That more than anything seemed to aggravate the man but somehow Colson kept his mouth shut. “I'll fuck you, I'll slip me dick right ‘ere and pound ya pretty cunt until you squirt for me. But right before I pop?” He paused, scissoring open his fingers and slipping them free just to suck them between his lips and lick them clean.

The Alpha moaned around the taste of him and made a filthy show of getting clean. When he finally pulled the digits free it was with a sloppy wet pop. “Right before, Imma pull out and soak you in me cum. Rub it in. Claim all of yas.” Before pulling back he pursed his lips and spit over Col’s pink folds, grinning when he could see him clench.

Dom let himself play, his fingers teasing from his base to his tip where he eased his foreskin over his cockhead and back. He knew it fascinated the other man, sometimes he woke up to Colson’s hand in his shorts just sliding it back and forth. He let himself be vocal, every time something made his nerves tingle he'd moan or whimper. If his mate wanted him to fuck he would.

The first press inside was a fucking joke. Colson knew his bitch was playing with him. The boy kept hold of himself and pushed his tip between Col’s drenched folds and slipped just inside before pulling back out. Kells refused to react, he had to prove he could keep control of at least himself but it was torture not to move. His lip rolled between his teeth and he bit down until he tasted blood. Of course Dom licked up every trace and suckled at the wound like the perfect freak he was but he just kept teasing. The omega would go mad before the kid kept his promise and made him squirt.

“Ready luv?” The Alpha purred, kissing softly against lax lips. The only answer he received was an over dramatic eye roll.

He planted his elbows on either side of Col’s head and inched inside him like he was drilling for oil- Kells supposed it wasn't so different but he knew he could take him hard. Every buck forward he sunk a little deeper, circling his hips as if in a dance. If Colson were talking he'd throw out a few playful insults, ask if the killer was taking up belly dancing. Not that he'd complain. Shit that might actually be hot.

A growl rumbled in Dom's chest, the sound joining the messy wet squelch of his dick fucking deeper and deeper inside Col’s vise like spasming walls. If not for the way his pussy reacted the Alpha wouldn't think he was wanted. He knew Col was messing with him but he needed some noise. Some bloody reaction. Sweat dripped from his hair to the other man's inked chest as their eyes met. That golden stare felt somehow needy and passive at the same time.

When the omega finally felt his lover's plush thighs against his and he knew the other's cock was deep in his guts, something in him relaxed but his need for control still reigned. Dom must have felt the change but misunderstood the reason because his next thrust was rough enough to raise Col’s ass off the bed. Hands pressed under his back as the Alpha molded their bodies together. He was careful around the belly but he obviously needed to feel and be felt in return. His beautiful face buried against the older man's neck and his fangs nipped over Colson's racing pulse. When he swallowed excess saliva he knew the boy had to feel it.

“Feel me? ‘Ow deep am I Cols? Feel me deep in ya? You can fake it all ya want but I can feel ya needy cunt. Ya can't completely ‘ide wha' I do to ya. Never could. I'm the only one who could bring ‘is outta you and I'm the only one who ever will. Every inch of you is mine from the inside-” He paused long enough to slam his cock home, hammering over Col’s spot. “-out. Ya might act like a doll but I can feel ‘ow I drive ya wild. Ya wet as fuck, squeezing me so ‘ard I can barely pull out, and ya pretty dick is making a mess of me skin.”

Colson swallowed again, his eyes blinking fast. He wasn't exactly surprised his virgin boy could be so filthy but the pride was something new and hot. It made him want to present even though he was already getting fucked. It was a war inside him. Did he give in and let his lover win this one time? Dom was obviously desperate for touch. Reaction. To see Col’s desire. Which was more important? His own need for control or his mate?

One long leg wrapped around the Alpha's back while the other planted against the mattress to meet him thrust for thrust. Fingers carded into his hair and kept their faces close and the killer grinned and almost cried. “All for you.” The omega whimpered against his lips. “All yours. Gonna prove it?”

“Fuck yeah.” The Alpha promised, happiness and pleasure warming him from the inside out. It was a strange moment of fighting back tears because his mate was trying to show him how important he was but they were also falling into each other and chasing release. Their lips met until they weren't kissing so much as breathing each other's air and he tried to slow the roll of his body to angle his hips just so. Kells fought against every measured thrust and tried to meet flesh to flesh but Dom knew what he was doing. “Let me make ya feel good.”

Colson tried not to grumble because his boy truly seemed to think he knew the omega's body and for once he was trying to give up and let his bitch lead. It was a fight to make himself still but when he let his focus fall to the way his lover felt, all his nerves seemed alive. The Alpha was gentle but sure, every move had his crown massaging Col’s spot. The fucker was so big and angled so well it felt like he was putting pressure on both his pleasure centers. It didn't help that Dom's stomach kept rubbing over his dick. The killer’s cocksure attitude was right, he was making Kells see heaven.

The coil pulled tighter with every thrust, the pressure building. For once they both fell mostly silent, just their bodies making all the noise. Their panted breaths and racing pulses felt deafening in their ears but Dom rolled his lip between his fangs and worked to make his mate break first. He wouldn't press deeper, he knew if he did he wouldn't be able to stop and though his knot was threatening, he couldn't let them lock together. A soft moan broke free from Col's lips before another. Another.

“T-there-ohfuck!” Dom tried not to smirk as his mate shattered below him, his core clenching tight as he gushed hot and messy. The Alpha never stopped moving, keeping his thrusts exact even when Col trembled and scored the skin of his neck and back.

Colson didn't know what sounds escaped him when his orgasm hit, he was floating too high. He barely noticed as his boy pushed himself up to watch until the pressure release seemed to… switch inside him.

Dominic’s heavy crimson gaze tracked Col’s cock as he came, and when pearly white became a golden stream he arched a brow but didn't stop. He'd never shame his baby mumma for letting go completely and it honestly made his hind brain proud. He'd fucked his omega so good Kells lost control. The man who needed to be so in charge of everything had broken for him. From him. It pushed him even closer to that edge.

“Jus' like tha'. Fuck. So ‘ot Daddy.” He rasped, watching the golden stream wash Col’s tats clean of his spend and drip down to soak himself and darken the sheets below. It tickled his shaft, over his balls, and dripped hot down his thighs. It was never a kink he'd thought about though it was one Colson had mentioned off hand. He hadn't even wondered about it but he found himself fascinated. In a way he felt claimed.

“Yeah?” The omega gasped. The man was fighting back embarrassment but he wouldn't apologize. Not with how his bitch was staring at his piss drenched belly. When he'd offered this up before this wasn't how he thought it would end up but fuck he couldn't say it wasn't hot. The release itself was so intense he wasn't even sure if he was still cumming or it was just aftershocks and pressure relief.

“Fuck yes.” The Alpha couldn't take it anymore, not with the fucked out sight of his mate. He thrust deep once more to soak himself in slick before pulling out and curling his palm around his cock. Kells reached to help, his fingertips teasing his tip but he was so close already it only took a few strokes to spill a mess of white heat over his target. His rapture hit so hard some of it landed on Col’s chest but he couldn't look away from the way it mixed with the other man's piss. His legs shook under him, his arm trembling where he held himself up, but until his dick twitched from overstimulation he kept stripping himself just to watch the sticky mess combine.

When Dom finally couldn't hold himself up anymore he fell next to his lover as they came down together. Both their hands found their way to Col’s belly to do exactly what he vowed. The boy smiled as he caught his breath, his fingers tracking the mess up and over the other's chest, even stopping to tweak his mate's sensitive nipples. Kells rolled on his side and wiped his palm over Dom's pink tinged skin. It wasn't fair that he was the only one filthy.

They didn't need to talk about their possible new kink, they never exactly negotiated so much as explored and discovered what worked between them. Dominic wasn't shaming him but enjoying the mess. It didn't stop the Alpha from boasting a little though and Col was proud of him for it. It was nice to see the normally quiet boy so prideful. “Look wha' I made ya do.” He purred. The smile he gave Kells made his core clench again.

“You and the parasite you gave me laying on my bladder.” Just because he loved the pride didn't mean Colson could let it go without a small playful fight. He'd given up too much control and he wasn't sure if he was okay with it. It terrified him sometimes how safe he felt with his mate.

“Bollocks. I read about it. It ain't jus' the baby. Made ya cum so ‘ard you couldn't stop ya'self.”

Col narrowed his gaze and tried not to laugh. “You read about it, huh? You googling how to get me off?” Nerdy precious fuck.

“Course. Ended up down a ‘ole after trying to find out wha’ the fuck docking were.” Kells flushed hot at his words. Docking was something he'd suggested. His boy's foreskin fascinated him and he wanted to try everything they could together. “So bloody ‘ot.” He sighed again, his palm sliding through the cooling mess on Col’s skin. The omega watched as his jade eyes flashed red again and his pupils started to blow.

“Don't even. It's bedtime.” Kells huffed, not at all surprised when Dom pouted at him. “Don't get it up again, seriously. You have to change the sheets while I rinse off. This mattress was a custom order and I'm not letting it soak in.”

“Why do I gotta change it?” The boy teasingly grumbled as he pushed himself up to help his lover out of bed. Of course he would do it but part of him wanted to sleep in the scents. He was kind of glad Colson would leave him be for a few minutes because he was desperate to roll in it.

When Col was finally standing and looking back from the bathroom door he stuck his tongue out at his bratty boy. “Didn't you cause it? You were just saying ‘look what I made you do’, didn't you mean that? It's your mess, cocky bitch. Clean it up. Then you can meet me in the shower.”

“I fhought it were the parasite’s fault.” The Alpha joked back.

“Yeah well I can't make Punk fix the bed. Don't call our baby a parasite. Fuck is wrong with you?” At Col’s teasing words Dom flipped him off but flopped onto the messy bed and wiggled in the wet spot.

“I saw that.”

“Oi! Bollocks ya did. You ain't seen me wanking the day we met and ya can't see me now.” Dominic held up both middle fingers in the direction of the treated glass wall. You could vaguely make out shadows from the other side but his omega was lying about being able to see exactly what he was doing. Kells just wanted to seem omniscient and it hadn't been hard to figure out what he did that first day since he left a mess on Col’s pillow but the man always tried to bring it up to make a point.

“You're a fucking freak. Get out of the wet spot and clean the fucking bed. If you hurry we can try that thing you looked up.”

“Luv, tha's summat you want. ‘Ow is tha' a reward for me?”

“I didn't say it was, just that I might still be horny.”

The Alpha didn't respond but he laughed to himself as he set to work changing the sheets. He never would have thought that first day that he'd end up having a family with the man let alone being so fucking in love he'd tried to propose. He'd give it time because he knew his lover heard him but eventually he'd ask again in the right way. He didn't mind that they were doing everything backwards, it worked for them. Besides, they had a long ass day and he just wanted to pamper his mate.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone wants tagged let me know 🖤

So this was a lot of smut 🫣 and a LOT of exploration. Let me know what you think about some of it and we can see about more in the future. I thought I'd give you a big smut chapter because we're about to hit massive plot again. I hope you're enjoying it! 💣🖤

[duchessonfire]

Whatever AU you create I live for it, honestly I'm your biggest fan at this point. Feel free to expand! The abo, supernatural twist, the motherfucking reverse sugar that i did not expect 😂 what kinda dynamic do you envision? Are they overall similar to savior except for some key point or is the energy between cegan completely altered? What are the vibes 🤩

Also! What are you thought on Negan's evolution and can you add your twist as to where do you think Carl can fit in it

(ive never watched dead city and stopped twd years ago coincidentaly right after carl died i keep up a bit with spoilers so i got the gist of it. But from what i can see he's become a fundamentaly different person. Swagger still there but dialed down enough to make me sad 😔 wbu do you keep up? id be impressed if you did cause that's some damn comitmment.

Listen i've been trying to recreate your magic by combining ao3 tags lately but nothing seems to fit! Its the age difference, its the slow burn with what started as someone playing meanly and exerting their power on someone else only to be hit with the feelings 🫢, it's the top tier d/s subtext, its the jealousy and the two step forward one step back, its the smut tbh mostly the smut, simply put it's giving.

And absolutely no rush and dont feel obliged to answer but what kinda irl timeline are you predicting for part 3 and 4 and the neganpov? You've been churning out updates lately (22k high quality chapter within a month; we are spoiled god bless🫂).

I'm frothing at the mouth waiting for your next update. You sincerely bring me joy.

Hi again Cegan lovely! ✨

Thank you so much for this sweet message.

The dynamics of the other Cegan project I have planned will be very much similar to the Savior!Carl universe with Carl and Negan going from enemies to lovers. The only one that is truly different is the reverse sugar daddy AU where I'm going for a Carl that is super shy and vulnerable, really a gifted kid who has trouble connecting with people and who clings to his crush for his former PE teacher for dear life. I'm really excited about those projects even though I have no idea when I'll have time to write them 😅

I am still heavily involved in TWD universe and I have watched the main show until the end, as well as the Daryl Dixon, The Ones Who Live and the Dead City spinoffs. I was very unhappy with Negan's characterization in the last season of TWD but Dead City really brought a breath of fresh air and I'm excited to see what lies in store for Negan in season 2.

So funny thing, part 4 of the Savior!Carl universe will cover Rick's arrival and the war between the Saviors and the other communities, but because I want to stick closely to canon, part 5 will deal with the time Negan spends in the cell and the Whisperer War. So I have in fact plans for Carl and Negan's relationship even after Negan loses his empire. (I'm actually very excited about their new dynamics after that happens ❤️‍🔥 While Negan will go softer, Carl will become a lot harder and more ruthless so that will be pretty amazing to explore...).

I'm so happy that you enjoy the Savior!Carl AU 😍 If you're looking for more Cegan content, I recommend looking at my bookmarks. If you enter Carl Grimes or Negan Smith in the "other work tags to include" section, you will be able to see all my Cegan bookmarks. I especially recommend the fics by Gemjam: Wildflowers and Genesis, which are really the main inspiration behind the Savior!Carl universe, but in my bookmarks you will find loads more of amazing works by amazing writers! Happy reading 📖

So for the time-line, part 3 will finish this summer for sure, hopefully by beginning of July. I will post chapter 10 this week (hopefully today or tomorrow), and then it's only two more chapters to go. The time-line for 4 is a lot blurrier because I still have a lot of brainstorming to do. Same for part 5 and for the Negan's pov. Ideally, I would like the Negan's pov to post at the same time as part 5 because Carl will spend a lot of time away from Negan while he's in the cell, so posting Negan's pov at the same time would still giving readers a healthy amount of Cegan next to the plot of part 5.

Thank you again for such a lovely ask and I hope you have an amazing day 💐😘

[arthuluart]

Hiii - wanted to say first thing first I love your art style, it's so dynamic and fun and those color palettes? Stunning ^^

And second thing second, just some food for thought if you ever want to get angsty about Jerry and Dean, coffee by Chappell Roan sounds like it was written about their break up specifically and I can't stop thinking abt it dndnden

*Cue me losing my mind*

Hiii- they say flattery gets you everywhere and turns out with me, it gets you animatics- jkjk but I do appreciate the kind comments ^^

I’ll put up the animatic separately and take the opportunity to leave the preamble here to keep the video post neat bc until someone tells me to shut up and just post art- I’m gonna ramble… So here’s the commentary you didn’t ask for along with my favourite panels:

First off- You turned me into a big time Chappell Roan listener which is great bc I need music recs to fix my listening habits before Spotify wrapped drops. My roundup last year was shameful… Red Wine Supernova is my new dish washing song.

Even tho it’s not the song’s vibe I kept the content as silly as I could for my own sanity. I don’t love getting too deep into the serious/sad side of M+L for a few reasons but I do find it all very interesting. Point being this song was too good to pass up doing something a bit bigger for.

Ngl tho- this did have me pulling out hair at multiple points. I never colour animatics, rarely even tone them- but you mentioned colour palettes and I was determined to deliver so pardon the messy colouring but (that was the tradeoff) I did not have it in me to stay in the lines. I’m choosing to be kind to myself and opt to call it an artistic choice and not midway burnout. And nothing was gonna get me to open after effects/premiere not even the janky ass golf ball OML this only makes sense if u watch the video.

There are parts of this I’m SO happy with and others I hate. I think it’s really obvious which sections I started losing steam on but overall I lowkey like the end product. Nothing I make will ever be good/perfect- this was one hell of a practice in accepting that lmao- but I can still be ok with the work problems and all yknow? I very nearly shelved this completely bc I got so worked up about the maybe 5 panels I dislike out of 106 total. Counting them was eye opening to ask myself: you’re gonna let that small a ratio stop you from sharing this after putting in days and days of effort? The insecurity goes deep and TBH getting asks has been a nice way of working through it since I post the art I make for answers no matter what only bc I KNOW someone out there wants to see it. It might not sound it but it’s actually quite positive.

Also, although I feel I’ve done my fair share of reading, I’m no expert. So if anything is really off point- sorry my bad (I won’t fix it tho bc I cannot physically stand to look at this another second lol)

I tried to stick to real things found in articles/books/photos/interviews etc bc outside of obviously fictional AUs I’m not super into making stuff up about them (and who needs to I mean the legit stuff is already insane enough) Sure I framed the events in specific ways to suit the song and some aspects are fictionalized (mainly bc the referenced written accounts lacked detail to draw 100% faithfully from anyhow) but otherwise I got my sources cited.

ANYWAYS… sorry for hijacking this answer I need to learn to chill out. Irl I’m a pretty reserved talker so you can tell I’m in a comfy place when I let loose and blather on endlessly lmao brevity is not a skill I possess.

You were probably expecting illustrations or smth but I hope what I came up with is still somewhat alright AND please don’t let my complaining fool you, I genuinely loved making this.

One FINAL Relevant Note: the line “nowhere else is safe every place leads back to your place” is gut wrenching. You’re so right about this song perfectly describing the break up. They always came back to each other and there’s something so devastating about that kind of haunting human connection.

OkAY I’m done promise- I thought I’d implode if I didn’t get all that out

[francesminos-tt]

Do you think you can do one like the movie pride and prejudice? With Daeron being Mr. Darcy and Joff being Lizzie? I'd love you forever and ever if you could! If you want that's fine too! ABO!

I made a small summary of some things if you want something more explained, but I love your ideas so you can and should write whatever you want, the things I wrote are not a requirement.

Viserys is not king, but is considered an important Lord in Westeros society. Rhaenyra marries Harwin Strong, a man far below Nyra's social standing and this is outrageous and shameful for Alicent. Viserys dies (and you know, at that time women had no right to any inheritance) and obviously all his riches would go to Aegon (if it weren't for the fact that Aegon is running away at the exact moment he receives the news, he doesn't want to be Lord but to party and fuck as much as he can) Now all the properties are being looked after and maintained by Aemond. So as expected, Aemond urgently needs to marry some rich and well-educated noblewoman. Alicent has her favorite options - baratheon girls -, but Aemond denies. Aemond insists on leaving Kings Landing to try and find his wife and Alicent sends Daeron with him on this mission because she knows her third son has some shared thoughts with her.

Rhaenyra discovers that her brothers are in town and like the intelligent woman she is, sends her three oldest children to the grand ball that will feature all the single Omegas and Betas. Rhaenyra OBVIOUSLY doesn't regret marrying Harwin but she wants her children to have a good future, wants them to have a good life.

Jace is the oldest, most responsible and most mature. Rhaenyra considers Jace to be the ideal choice for this marriage.

Luke is sweet, smart and kind but Rhaenyra still remembers when Aemond lost his eye and looked at the boy with nothing but hatred.

Joffrey is a smart and cheeky omega and wants to have a broader life than just dedicating himself to marriage. He hates Aemond, but he hates snobbish Daeron even more.

To be honest, Joffrey is more Lydia to me than Lizzie, but I managed to adapt the plot according to their dynamics. Here is the result. I tried to write their first meeting. Daeron may seem snobbish, but in fact he’s just trying to flirt with Joff (and failed epically). I think Joff hates him more and more until Daeron goes to propose to him, which sends Joff into total shock and he refuses Daeron. You can imagine the rest🤣

“I think I should burn a hole in my dress, so that mother cannot force me to go to the ball with my boobs exposed.” Joffrey said, sprawling on the bed in his underclothes. The room was pleasantly warm, even in the early spring chill, as the lazy afternoon sun shone through the window. Joffrey would rather spend his day hiking in the sun, than preparing his outfit for the stupid ball.

“Stop using words so vulgar.” Jacaerys scolded, but only half-heartedly, “Where did you learn it from anyway?”

“The lads in the market.” Joffrey replied, flipping over to lie on his stomach and watching his brothers ironing their respective dress, a simple light green one with embroidered bodice for Jace, and a sea blue one lined with intricate lace for Luke. The dresses were not extravagant, but beautiful and well-maintained, a gift from their mother to celebrate their presentation.

“You are an omega now, Joff.” Jace said, sounding very much like their father Harwin, “You shouldn't spend too much time with them.”

“Why not?” Joffrey scoffed, blowing a strand of curls from his face, “I am still me. My omega status doesn't change anything.”

“Joff.” Jace sighed, looking up from his work, “You know what I mean. Mother will not be pleased to learn you hang out with lads from the market. You have duties to fulfill-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I need to sell myself to some rich alpha like a whore, right? Being myself only destroys my price.” Joffrey mocked, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

“Do you really think mother will sell you like a piece of meat on the marriage market?” Lucerys chimed in before Jace could scold their younger brother more, “Answer me, Joff. Do you not trust mother to want the best for us?”

Joffrey bit his lower lip. He loved his mother. Rhaenyra might not be considered a conventional good mother, running away with her lover and cutting off all the ties to her family, but she was the best mother Joffrey could ever wish for. She cared for her children. That was part of the reason why she remarried Daemon after Harwin had sadly passed away, because with her husband’s inheritance snatched away by her brother-in-law, Rhaenyra had no means to support her three sons on her own. She had suffered so much just trying to give her children a decent life. It was no surprise that she wanted to secure the best marriage deal for her three omega sons. Joffrey knew for a fact that Rhaenyra would never force him to marry. She was merely providing the brothers a chance to broaden their views so that they could make wiser choices in the future.

“Sorry, Luke,” Joffrey sagged, his thick brows turning downwards like a sad puppy, “and Jace. I shouldn't have let my frustration out on you and mother. I know you only mean good for me.”

“It’s ok, Joff.” Jace put down his dress and came to sit on the bed, “Come here.”

Joffrey placed his head on Jace’s lap as if he was still a little boy, innocent, young, and ignorant of the cruelty the world had to offer. Jace brushed Joffrey’s wild curls with his fingers, gently untangling the knots one by one. Joffrey’s hair was just like him, wild and unruly, but could be tamed with patience.

“I don't want you to change, omega or not.” Jace told him, “You are charming just as you are. If you decide to marry, your future husband should love and respect who you really are, not some obedient omega you pretend to be.”

“I don't think anyone will love an omega who says boobs all the time.” Joffrey joked, “But hey, no worries! I don't want to marry anyway. I can be an old maid and look after you and Luke’s children.”

“You never know until you meet someone.” Lucerys joined them too, squeezing himself on the bed and giving Joffrey’s butt a playful slap, “I wouldn't say no to a cute ass like that.”

“Luke!” Jace sighed heavily, “Stop encouraging him! Did you learn the words from the market lads as well?”

“I don't know.” Lucerys laughed, flipping his lush hair sassily, “Maybe it’s Joff’s bad influence.”

“God help me.” Jace murmured, but his voice was drowned out by the hysterical laughter of his two younger brothers.

The ball was boring. It was no surprise, for Joffrey never had the interest or the patience to exchange pleasantries and gossips with other omegas. Balls were boring. Boring Balls. It actually rhymed, which made Joffrey chuckle to himself as he settled down on an armchair and watched his brothers dancing. Jace and Luke looked ravishing with their respective dresses, each piece bringing out the best of their features. Jace’s long legs and slender figure, Luke’s beautiful eyes and plump body, like two shining stars among the sea of dancers.

Joffrey saw himself as undesirable compared to his brothers. He was too tall for an omega, his skin too tanned, his brows too thick, and he always made sure to hide his plump chest under the humble clothes he chose to wear. Today, he was wearing one of his mother’s old dresses, a black one with golden embroideries on the collar and waist. The dress had a low cut originally, aimed to showing off one’s cleavage, but Joffrey had it altered, putting some sheer black laces on the chest area to hide the only charm point of his body, his full breast.

A song ended, and the dancers all retired from the floor to catch their breaths and have a little drink. Lucerys glided gracefully to Joffrey, smiling at everyone who waved their hands at him but never stopping for anyone.

“Where is Jace?” Lucerys asked, taking a glass of wine from Joffrey.

“Too busy flirting with Mr. Stark.” Joffrey tilted his chin to the corner of the ball room, where Jace was having an animated chat with a man in soldier uniform almost a header taller than him.

“I danced with him for a song.” Lucerys said, looking in the direction of Joffrey’s faze, “Mr. Stark is very pleasant.”

“I doubt it.” Joffrey was skeptical about all alphas’ characters, “He’s an army man. It is a miracle that he actually knows how to dance.”

“Papa Harwin was an army man, too.” Lucerys chuckled. He knew Joffrey didn’t really mean it. His little brother was just very protective of Jace.

Joffrey shrugged, taking a sip of his wine. This was his third glass, the alcohol making his cheeks pink and his head pleasantly buzzed.

“I am sure Jace is having a good time with Mr. Stark, but I can’t say the same about you, Joff.” Lucerys changed the subject of the conversation, “You haven’t danced tonight. No one takes your fancy?”

“You know I don’t like alphas, especially the snobbish ones.” Joffrey scrunched his nose in disgust, “They think we are all gold diggers who want their fortune. I can’t stand someone treating me like some kind of a prize.”

“You are not going to find a partner if you keep drinking wine alone.” Lucerys shook his head, reaching out to wipe off a drop of sweat on Joffrey’s nose, “I am not forcing you to socialize, but sometimes you cannot judge one’s true nature only by their looks.”

Just when Joffrey was about to retort, the room went silent as two newcomers joined the crowd. Joffrey could hear some omegas, even betas, gasping at the two alphas who had just entered the room. At first look, Joffrey had to admit that those alphas were indeed eye-catching. They were both tall, clad in the finest clothes Joffrey had ever seen, the silky fabric of their clothes and the gems on their rings and belts showing off their fortune. Joffrey could tell that they must be related, because they both had silver hair and purple eyes, one of them with long, smooth hair that pulled back into a low ponytail, while the other kept his curls short and fluffy. Normally, Joffrey was a hard man to impress, but he found he couldn’t take his eyes off the newcomers now. His alcohol-infused mind had a hard time processing the fact that his two uncles from that side of the family showed up at the same ball that he and his brothers attended.

“Luke,” Joffrey turned to Lucerys abruptly, “let’s go.”

Joffrey’s first instinct was to take Lucerys as far away as possible from uncle Aemond. It was a logical reaction, for Lucerys and Aemond had a strained history, to put it lightly. Aemond had drawn the most attention from the crowd since his arrival, partly because he was rich, tall, mysterious and handsome, but another reason was undoubtedly, his eye-patch. A leather eye patch covered Aemond’s left eye, but unable to hide the twisted scar underneath completely. The eye-patch gave Aemond a somewhat dangerous vibe, but Joffrey knew the danger was real.

“Go where?” Lucerys said a bit nervously, wiping his hand on his dress, “We can’t flee, Joff.”

“Why not? Let’s get out of here before they see us.” Joffrey grabbed Lucerys’s wrist and tried to drag his brother away, but his back hit a warm body before he could take a step.

“I am afraid it’s too late, nephew.” A soft voice came from behind as a warm hand placed on Joffrey’s waist to keep the omega from stumbling, “We have already seen you, haven’t we, brother?”

Daeron smiled at his one-eyed brother, but Aemond didn’t reply, keeping his gaze on Lucerys the entire time. Lucerys swallowed, but held Aemond’s intense gaze bravely.

“Uncles, what a coincidence.” Lucerys said, his voice quivering a little.

“Nephew.” Aemond’s lips curled up dangerously, “It is a pleasure seeing you here. Will you honor me to a dance?”

Unlike Lucerys, Aemond didn’t address them both, choosing to address Lucerys alone instead. He bowed slightly and offered his hand to Lucerys. Joffrey could taste the jealousy in the air, the sweet scent of surrounding omegas turning pungent. It baffled Joffrey that why would Aemond invite the boy who had taken his eye to a dance, but to his surprise, Lucerys actually said yes.

“Of course, uncle.” Lucerys took a big inhale to steady himself before placing his hand in Aemond’s inviting palm. They headed to the floor and began to dance to the upbeat rhythm. Joffrey knew Lucerys was a good dancer, but he had never expected Aemond to be one, too. Aemond’s moves were graceful and precise. He swung Lucerys in his arms with incredible ease, not even a single strand hair out of place.

“They make a lovely couple, don’t they?” Daeron’s voice almost jolted Joffrey out of his skin. The omega had completely forgotten about his other uncle. Daeron had come so close at some point that Joffrey could feel the heat from the alpha’s body. A unique scent of incense invaded Joffrey’s personal space, causing Joffrey’s head to spin.

“They are no couple.” Joffrey bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from being carried away by Daeron’s alluring scent, “Why do you say that? Lucerys is just being polite.”

“Is he? Well, my brother certainly isn’t.” Daeron replied as he offered Joffrey a fresh glass of wine, “Wine? I see you have already finished yours.”

“No, thank you. I can get my own wine.” Joffrey said defensively.

“I just want to have a chat with you, nephew.” Daeron raised an eyebrow, his hand still reaching out, “I didn’t mean to insult you or anything. No need to be so offended.”

Joffrey knew he might have acted too defensively, so he took the glass from Daeron and murmured a quiet thank you to the alpha.

“We haven’t met for so long, nephew.” Daeron said, sipping his own drink, “Last time we met was like, almost ten years ago. I never expect you to present as an omega.”

“What do you mean, uncle?” Joffrey frowned, but he didn’t lash out, “I apologize if I am not coy enough to be an omega.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I am sure you are a very pleasant omega. I just need some time to process this wonderful surprise.” Daeron smiled, seemingly unaffected by Joffrey’s sarcastic words, “You were so…wild, as a boy. I always thought you would present as an alpha, or at least, a beta.”

Joffrey didn’t like Daeron’s attitude, at all. The way Daeron talked about his omega status made his skin prickle with frustration and anger. Daeron seemed to have no respect for omegas, as if they were somewhat inferior creatures. It was a common thought shared by most alphas, seeing omegas as weak, emotional, and had to depend on alphas to live. That was why Joffrey hated to interact with alphas. He might be an omega, but he was a person at first. He had his own thoughts and aspirations. He didn’t need an alpha to tell him what to do.

“I am satisfied with my status, uncle.” Joffrey said coldly.

“Really? Are you here today to socialize with other alphas? Have you found anyone to your liking so far?” Daeron looked around the room, “Is that Jacaerys? Who is the soldier he’s talking to? Are they engaged?”

Joffrey wanted to say none of your business, but that would be too rude. He didn’t mind to be rude, but he didn’t want Daeron to look down upon him more than the alpha already had.

“No. Mr. Stark is just a good friend.” So far, Joffrey added silently.

“Oh, I’ve known the Starks. They are from the North.” Daeron said dismissingly, “I imagine he will be blown by the social scene here in King’s Landing. I’ve heard that winters in the North are so harsh that people cannot stay outside for more than a few minutes. I presume there aren’t many social events to be held in that weather.”

“They can find a way to enjoy themselves, I am sure.” Joffrey said, taking a sip from wine Daeron had handed him before. He wasn’t planning to drink more, but Daeron’s attitude just antagonized him so much that he needed alcohol to hold himself together.

“The Starks don’t have much of a fortune. I’ve heard that their estate only provides a small income each year.” Daeron continued, “I think Jacaerys can do better.”

“If my brother gets married, he’s marrying for love and mutual respect, not yearly income.” Joffrey put the wine glass down on the small table next to him with a loud bang, “You seem to think a large fortune is the only thing that attracts omegas, but let me tell you that you are wrong.”

“Did I say something that offends you, Joff?” Daeron sounded genuinely surprised, the bastard, “If I did, I am terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you in any way.”

“You’ve said enough, uncle.” Joffrey said with gritted teeth, “You and your family have already taken what should belong to my mother. I suggest you find someone else who is actually interested in your stolen fortune, because I definitely am not.”

Joffrey turned to leave. He was so furious that if he didn’t leave now, he would punch Daeron in the face. He didn’t even have time to look for his brothers before he stepped into the bitter cold of the night.

Joffrey hated alphas, and he hated Daeron the most.