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#guys when they read the pheromones story

jjungkooksthighs · 17 days

Text

Claws of Carnality | jjk (m) (16)

Pairing: alpha jungkook x omega reader

Genre: (fluff, angst, and smut) abo/werewolf, fantasy

Rating: 18+/nsfw

Word Count: 14.3k (We really said it's been almost a year so we're going to write thirty plus pages)

Summary:

At the bathhouse, you discover your alpha is much worse is off than you originally anticipated. You tend to him, but some scars never fade.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER INJURY, LOTS OF BLOOD MENTIONS, GORE, MENTIONS OF BROKEN BONES, MENTIONS OF LOSS OF BODY PARTS, dom!jungkook, alpha!jungkook, sub!reader, omega!reader, cursing, praising, possessive!jungkook, teasing, marking, manhandling

Author's Note:

It's been awhile since I updated. Honestly, the grown-up life is rough. That's all I really have to say to answer for the extended hiatus with this story and my other one. Mental health has been going up and down periodically and it really was so hard to write through it all. I spent about two weeks going back and forth with the chapter. I wondered if it would ever make it to a post several times because things kept getting deleted. I finally decided to just sit down and write and not stop. This is the final result. Thirty-one pages. I hope you enjoy. I'm sorry that this isn't the long-awaited mating chapter that I know you guys all really want to see, but it is important to me that the characters are nuanced and that their connection is not one built purely on the basis of desire. Sure, that is part of it, but there's much more to it. So much more depth and meaning when we build relationships with people. Especially romantic ones. Enjoy!

To read more, click here for the masterlist.

“O-over there, alpha,” you quietly suggest, “It would be easier for me to-“ you flounder in flusterment when the strong arm circled around your front curls possessively around you- “I-It would be easier for m-me to tend to you if you sat down on the bench.”

The male makes a deep, rumbling sound as he draws in another heavy breath of your intoxicating pheromones, “As you wish. But it will cost you for being so irresistible.”

The sound goes straight to your cunt, and you have to bite into your cheek to keep from making the sound of need that your wolf begs you to release. You shift where you stand, hoping that the quaint press of your thighs together will somehow trap the slick from where it is secreted from your sex.

“What…what is the price I must pay for my transgression?” You ask, hoping that balms, ointments, and medicinal solutions splayed on the tray you hold in your hands don’t fall from how much your heart pounds in your chest.

It’s hard enough as it is not to look down, for he is completely, utterly, and mouth-wateringly naked.

“Two things,” his uninjured arm tightens even more around your front, his hand bunching itself in your skirt as he groans at the fresh scent of desire that drifts from you. “The first is you will not leave my sight. I want you as near to me as you can be.” He noses at the side of your throat, your lashes fluttering in the warm sensation of his breath as he utters, “It was a second hell to leave you after that duel and be without you, but I wanted to respect the tradition–and your decision– had you chosen to prepare yourself for me.”

His words have affection swirling in your chest.

This male really was something special. Even after battling three other wolves and being severely injured on your behalf, he still put your needs before his own.

And really, how could you deny him his request when that was all that you wanted, deep down? To just be by his side. Forever his loyal, loving, doting mate.

“You needn’t ask me that, alpha, for it was already in my mind.” You faintly confess.

He likes that answer.

You know based on the way he presses his mouth to the oily gland along your throat. It is gentle and soft, and it is so different from what you’d seen on the glen not too long ago during his duel.

So much violence and so much pain he was capable of bringing, but with you, he would never harm a hair on your head. So great was his love for you that he would protect you from that even if it meant taking those scars onto his body.

He’d given his oath to you that he would do exactly that, and gods, he had kept to it.

It is why you let him maneuver you forward away from the watery basin you’d found him in and toward the long ebony wood bench that almost stretches from one end of the chamber to the other. A tall pillar of white wax holds a flickering wick that is set in brass lanterns hanging from the ceiling on each side of the bench, and in front of its legs are caged candles guarded by glass that have high, bright flames.

“How agreeable you are being. If you can so easily agree to that, then the second of my terms is this.” He turns you both before the front of your knee can make contact with the wood, the arm he has encircled around your waist spinning you so that you face him.

His hand never leaves your side, his fingers remaining entrenched in the sea of your skirts. Somehow, none of the vials fall from the tray you clutch onto.

Golden irises that burn with more intensity than the fire beside him have you utterly struck by their luminousness as he demands, “You will promise me that if this,” he jerks his chin toward his mangled form, “is too much for you, you will tell me. I said before that I only wanted you to tend to me, and I meant it. But if you are uncomfortable, you must say so.”

Again, he was putting you first. Despite the fact that he was hurting, he was still choosing your comfort over his own.

Just how much more could your heart swell for this male?

You shake your head, finding your voice full of doubtlessness and confidence that surge into you as you say, “I want to do this, alpha. I spent years studying the art of medicine and herbal treatments so that I could one day use it to help others.” You rise on your tiptoes to osculate your lips against his. “I would be lying if I told you I hadn’t secretly wanted to learn it mostly for situations like this.”

He smirks against you, his mouth lingering near yours as he teasingly prods, “Situations like this? Are you saying that you thought about getting me shirtless and all alone so you could touch me under the guise of that excuse?”

Heat races to your cheeks and that confidence you’d had before vanishes with it. Soon, you’re blushing as you blurt, “No! I mean, yes! I mean….alpha!”

Years ago, you had never entertained the idea that this male before you would ever become yours. That you would ever be able to have a moment like this with him. He had been a constant thought in your mind from the moment you’d first laid eyes on him when you’d been but children, and as you both grew older, his presence in your mind and thoughts had only grown stronger.

But apart from your dreams and musings, he’d been so far for you to reach with all the duties and responsibilities that had been thrust on you from such a young age. So many other omegas had vied for his attentions, and with all of them clamoring for one look in their direction whenever he had returned to the compound from his exploits deep in the forest or in the forge where he had been stationed, you had never been able to get close enough with a constant herd of wolves –female and male alike– around him.

His rank had drawn many to him, each of them hoping that the next in line to be the ruler of the pack would select them to be part of his inner circle. Any selected by him would instantly rise in rank upon his ascendance to becoming Pack Alpha, and so naturally he had had to be guarded in his interactions and limited in his contact with others beyond his work in the forge as the pack’s only blacksmith beside his father.

Rumors had spread fast in his unannounced absences that he would take with his father for increasing increments of time the older he became, because when he returned to work at the forge, there were bags under his eyes that had become more mature, had become hardened with the calluses on his hands as he worked them day after day.

Sometimes he would return with a new wound on his body that he tried to hide under the various furs he draped over his body. You knew because of the chitter of the omegas that would inevitably gossip about in front of the fire in the omegean den on your way back to your chambers after a long night in the archives that you went to after you left the schoolhouse for the day.

Those were the nights that you found your paws bearing down on the grassy ground as you ran through the hills deep in the woodland in your journey toward your favorite creek that was tucked away behind a wall of vines, deep into the forest, that no one but you knew about.

Or so you had thought.

He’d been there, too. From a distance, of course. From the moment you stepped out of your chambers, he’d been able to smell you. The wind had a cunning way of carrying that to him no matter where he was, and he was helpless to the wolf in him he had been learning to control that bayed and bayed until he listened and tracked that captivating scent that made everything else in the world fade away.

You wonder, as he urges you between his legs that he opens for you in invitation to stand between, just how much he had to sacrifice to be sitting before you now.

Your alpha observes your expressions change from embarrassment to concentrated concern, and he tugs on the invisible cord tying you both together that is the bond you now share. You let him in without hesitation, your thoughts becoming known to him as he draws on the connection.

He can hear your thoughts, can feel your emotions, can see your memories if he taps into it. In the developing stage of the bond, you wish you knew how to show him all of your dreams of him, all of your memories of him, and all your thoughts that you’ve ever had of him.

There’s something that you want him to see, but gods, your voice just won’t work the way you want it to under the emotion that cracks and breaks it. So, you let him see a memory you’d kept buried deep in the trenches of your mind for many, many moons. One that no one but he would ever carry.

It had been a rainy, stormy night. So heavy was the rain that it pelted your skin even through the thick coat of your white fur as you’d torn through the earth with paws too eager to rush you away from the center of your stresses and away to the woodland where it all melted away with the streaks of color that passed by you in your inhuman speed as you ran, ran, and then ran some more.

Thunder had rumbled through the sky on this particular night so loud that even your eardrums rang after the deafening strikes of sound that cut through the sky as lightning flashed before your eyes from under the canopy of trees.

The forest was vast, but that night, it had seemed all too small for you.

You hadn’t stopped until your lungs screamed for air, your haunches burning from how hard you’d pushed them, the bolt of white light in the sky similar to the color of the flame that had burned in the stone fireplace set in the middle of the wall on one end of your chambers while you’d carefully, attentively read the letter left to you on your windowsill.

Such a beautiful poem about a boy who had come to love the girl he admired from afar. And so meticulous had each letter been etched onto the parchment. You knew whoever had written it had taken much time to compose it with each swirl and curve of each syllable.

You had left it on your bed while you had gone to find another book to hide yet another letter from your secret admirer with no name, but had not noticed the shadow that had swept under your door to reveal your father, who had taken one look at the letter on your duvet before anger had turned him cruel at the prospect of his perfect little girl being corrupted by some hormonal male.

He'd cast the parchment into the fire despite your ardent pleas not to, the tears falling quickly when he’d let that fury burn you with pokers of curses and chastisements for your lack of purity.

He had always been adamant that you were to study the ways of the pack and devote yourself to teach its art to the youth. Those letters, to him, were nothing but distractions. Distractions that made you no better than the common whore in the fantasies they would ineluctably fill your head with.

Or so he had said.

That was why you had found yourself bounding through the forest that night with tears in your eyes not even the rain could wash away. But that night, fate had had other ideas.

You’d intended to go to the cave by the creek. You had never made it inside.

You’d stopped behind one of the oak trees on the edge of the forest floor before the soil turned to rock by the stream, the wide-mouthed cave beyond occupied by two figures.

Just by the smell of them, you knew they were of the same blood. One was older with their more muted, aged smell and one was younger.

You knew the scent of the younger one. That scent of blooming gardenia, pear and black vanilla. The same one that lingered on the letters left to you on your windowsill.

Each time the lightning pierced the black sky, their figures flashed. And each time, the two were locked in combat. Each held only a small iron dagger, their fighting leathers more than enough protection for them both lest either were struck by the other.

Unable to look away, you found yourself moving closer until you hid safely behind a thick, bountiful bush and could discern voices. Their voices. Only bits and pieces could be made out through the rainstorm, but it was enough.

“…too slow, son….can’t keep putting your arm up like that…too open and easy for me to…”

The next split of white light through the black sky illuminated them both, and the slightly shorter male with hair the color of ebony had a knife at his throat. It was held there by his father, who shook his head in disapproval as he gripped the younger male’s forearm in a vice-like hold.

“…cannot protect her if you cannot protect yourself. You are not ready.” The older male had decided. “Until you are, you will not see her. Even from afar.”

Another lightning bolt ruptures the clouds covering the moon, and a younger Jungkook had let his dogma guide his blade as he had voiced:

“Eventually I will be. And when I am, she’ll be mine. Not even her father will stand in my way.”

The next time the streak of lightning found its way through the atmosphere, the older male had been twisted around, his arm held behind his back while the younger alpha had pressed his blade to his father’s throat.

A self-satisfied grin with pointed canines protruding from under his upper lip had made your beating muscle in your chest stutter as he had released his father from the binding hold he’d had on him.

You could have sworn he looked right at you from behind the mess of leaves and brambles.

When the white fulmination cleaved through the clouds once more, your heart stopped when his father had quickly captured his son’s wrist to the hand that held the dagger by his neck only to bend forward and rotate forward, effectively flipping Jungkook onto his back. Jungkook, who had been unprepared for such a technique, had been brought to the craggy ground with a grunt, his other hand shooting out to grab for something, anything, to find purchase in as his knife fell from his fingers. Jungkook was fast, but his father had simply been faster.

The older male had easily used the momentum of move to step around and over Jungkook’s now prone form. Jungkook, who had been propped up on one elbow with a sharp looking rock held in his now bleeding hand from the blade of the dagger that had cut into his palm in the fall. It laid too far for him to reach, the essence of his defeat staining it.

White electricity strikes yet again, the deep rumble of thunder loud under the pounding of blood in your ears.

“Distracted. She occupies your mind even now. That…is dangerous, son.” The older male with gray streaking the black hairs stuck over his eyes had said. “Too dangerous for you to be allowed near her until….oncoming rut is over...”

That was the last thing you heard before there had been a flare of heat on your right, the rift of lightning arcing along the old oak’s stump beside you as the clouds clashed and loud sound pierced the earth.

You hadn’t even flinched. That didn’t matter. The only thing that did was the alpha on the ground who’s scent clung to the parchments that made you blush, smile, and kick your feet while you coveted them close to your chest as you wished to the gods that whatever force was keeping him from your side would release him.

The fascination that had turned every letter of his had tilled the very hard edge with which he spoke as he growled, “No. I cannot go through that again. You cannot make me.”

“Won’t I?” His father flipped the dagger in hand. “You’re on the ground right now because you cannot keep your mind off her. What is to stop you from venturing into her chambers tonight when you inevitably begin thinking of how good she smells? Of how pretty she looks when-“

Jungkook had pushed up on his hand, the other holding the rock slicing the air close to his father’s thigh. Each side of the older male’s mouth pulled downward, the metal of his dagger gleaming as sparks had flown upon impact of the pointed edge of the rock hitting the blade with such force.

“Don’t.” Jungkook’s jaw tensed. “Do not dare to say the things I mutter in my sleep when you have me chained to the fucking trees.”

His father had shrugged. “Then become stronger for her. Until you can, you’ll stay here, deep in the woods. Far away from her.”

The cords in the younger alpha’s neck went rigid as he scowled. “I will find my way to her. One way or another.”

With that, he’d pulled his knees toward his chest before punting his father in the chest with his feet. Such energy he’d used to push himself back from the older male as he’d used the force of the action to drive his feet over his head in a backward roll, his bleeding hand reaching around the hilt of the curved dagger on the ground. When he’d gotten to his feet once more, he had bared his teeth with determination set into those expressive features of his.

His father had nodded in approval, “That’s the spirit, son. Never accept defeat. That’s how you win.”

The clash of metal had soon become drowned out by the outpour of rain, but not even the water could snuff out the iotas of light that came at each powerful strike of their blades against each other.

Hours must have passed, but you swore it felt like it had only been minutes as your eyes followed the younger male everywhere he went, his wild dark locks sticking to his forehead and sides of his face as he moved with purpose and confidence.

There was an art to his movements as he continuously, mercilessly brought down his blade on his father’s. Time and time again.

Whether he held a quill or a blade in his hand, he was filled with purpose. Purpose that was entirely carved by you.

It had taken his father being backed into the stream for you to realize that you were too close. And that the air had become too thick to push air through your lungs as the organs in your chest contracted too deeply?

Why had it suddenly become so difficult to breathe?

Jungkook wades into the stream up to his calves, not willing to let up on his father despite the water urging him with its flow against him.

The closer he got, the more labored your breaths became.

You needed to shift. You needed to shed your heavy furs that had been drenched by the rain.

But to do that, you had to leave him.

So, you did. Quietly, you slipped into the night, careful not to make any sound lest you drew any attention to yourself. You hadn’t known you’d been holding your breath until you found your way back to your chambers, your footfalls light as your furs had begun to fall away from you. After you’d collected the rainwater you’d left in a barrel outside your window in several smaller bowls and emptied them into the cauldron hung over the metal hook above your fireplace to heat what would be your bathwater, your hands had sought the comfort of the thickest bound book that you kept on your bookshelf.

You had been too hasty to get to the dog-eared page you’d marked in the book, accidentally tearing the page before finding what you’d come to your book for. Inside it was tucked your favorite letter left to you on your windowsill. One that you found yourself rereading night after night.

It read:

The moon pales in comparison to the light that twinkles in your eyes,

The stars tremble in awe of your brilliance,

The night must blanket them and still, you offer more warmth,

Warmth that not even the sun can make as pleasant,

Warmth that the clouds could not even shade,

Warmth that no rain could fall with,

The flowers around us bloom, but none blossom with the beauty and grace of you,

The seedlings take root, but gods, none do so like the one you’ve planted in me,

The water they draw into themselves is life-giving, but yours is so much nourishing,

Still I sit here, hoping that you will allow me to bask in your radiance,

Still I sit here, promising that I will grow stronger in body, soul, and mind to be at your side,

Still I sit here, thinking of you when I cannot see, hear, or touch you as I do in my dreams.

Wait for me, my beautiful flower who only becomes more alluring under each moon.

Wait for me, and I will be your loving attendant,

Wait for me, and I will be yours.

You are forbidden to me now, but soon, you will not be. Soon, I will make you mine.

You will never have to look longingly at the wolves who hold and dote on each other while your only partner is the books you keep in your library. I will be everything you want me to be if that is what pleases you.

You will always have a shoulder to lean on, an ear that will listen, a hand that will caress you.

You will always have me.

You will never have to spend your nights crying into your pillow alone because of your father. I will be there to hold you close. I will be the fists that pummel him to the ground for daring to hurt you. Or anyone else that meddles your happiness.

All I can do for you now is watch over you from afar. Guard and protect you from the males I know you do not desire. From the females that have become venomous in jealousy of your unmatched intelligence, spirit, and beauty. From the threats that loom deep in the forest.

I hope you can forgive me for keeping my name and a face a secret from you. I suspect by now you have figured out who I am. And if you have, you will then understand why I commune with you this way.

The elders, nor your father, would allow it since you have not yet presented. Besides…it looks like I have some developments myself that I need to make. You have so consumed my mind and body that I can no longer make sense of certain things.

You are everywhere and yet, you elude me. It is the most tragic of ironies.

Until we meet again, my fair flower. I will see you long before you see me, but you can always find me in our dreams.

Always.

-Your Alpha

The air here had been clammy, too, so when you had let your thumb brush at the corner, the oils from it smudged the ink. Panic stole your breath and you not wanting to blemish the beautiful lettering, you’d slipped the parchment under your pillow and gone to the window to open it in hopes of letting some crisp, fresh air in.

Even here, you could still hear the clang of metal from the forest under lightly falling raindrops. You had let your body move on its own when you’d leaned out from the ledge of your windowsill that was only a few feet from the ground, the baser part of you subconsciously trying to be near to him despite the space between you.

That muggy draft that had clung to your ribs still did not dispel as the cold drops trickled down your body, the tears of the sky slow in their consolation as they dribbled along your arm as you lifted it up and stuck it out of the window.

It still wasn’t enough.

You needed to be able to breathe. And thankfully, you knew just what to do from all the books you read.

Hot water could provide relief to respiratory issues.

Your eyes landed on the largest of the wooden bowls you’d used to collect water from the barrel of rainwater outside, each of your hands holding it as you’d dipped it into the cauldron over boiling water, careful not to let it burn your fingers as you brought it to the tub, the sloshing of it causing you to stare down at it to see your reflection.

Your mouth was ajar with partially sharpened teeth that had not fully shifted back yet, your face flushed with redness and your eyes… your dilated pupils, now the color of the sun where they were usually silver like the moon, glowed back at you.

You blinked rapidly, surprise lighting up your face as you gaped.

Your wolf had been scratching at your psyche to do something about the irremovable weight that felt like it was pushing against your organs.

Another bout of thunder rolled through the sky from outside the semi-circular opening in the wall along the far end of the small, square room. The accompanying flash of lightning brought with it the deadly gleam of daggers behind your eyes, the image of Jungkook’s blood staining it in your mind’s eye as the suffocating pressure in your chest worsened.

You’d had to sit on the edge of the tub, unable to get air between your lips and before you could think, you raised the steaming bowl over your head and let it pour over you.

Its cascade down your flesh had immediately silenced your wolf, who preened at the hot sensation of the liquid all over your flesh. Everywhere the water touched, it washed away the uncomfortable weight that had smothered you so.

When you looked into the mirror across the room, the gold in your irises had been swept away with the last drop of water to leave only silver.

Your surprise had been doused until its remnants became distress as you looked up at the moon, your hands coming together before your bosom as you bowed your head in deference to ask, “Please, gods, do not let him suffer for me. Wherever he is, please, protect him from harm. Keep him safe.”

You’d gone to bed that night without bothering to dry off, the lightest of layers heavy on your skin as hushed prayers and pleas for his safety left your lips while you held the letter he’d left you against your thudding heart.

Words have a way of failing you when he’s around, but that? It was so much easier. So much better when you couldn’t find language sufficient to let him know what you wanted to say.

He seems to understand, because then he’s releasing your skirts and grabbing the wooden tray of salves, gauze, and other medicinal solutions with his uninjured hand and, lost in his eyes, you don’t even realize he’s put it beside him until his voice finds you through it all.

You need not worry for me, my love. I have everything I need right here. I may have had to grow up faster than everyone else around us, but I would do it all over again if it meant that you would be mine.

You only notice your hands are empty when you go to brush your forehead against his, your unoccupied hands lifting to cradle each side of his face as your eyes burn with the tears that threaten to fall.

“You are too good to me, alpha. I promise you that you will never have to be alone again. Not now, and not ever.” You pledge as you kneel between his legs, reaching for the thick roll of white translucent fabric with a loose, open weave. You take it between both hands, your mouth setting in a thin line as you rip it so that you have two moderately sized pieces while your alpha takes in the image of you on your knees before him.

“Nor do you, my love. I am officially yours now, just as you are entirely mine. No one can deny us from each other anymore.” He professes, lifting his unharmed arm so he can sweep your hair out of your face while you work.

It was no small thing to allow an omega to do this. The action was something of a rite that went back to the earliest of their ancestors. When an alpha was harmed in battle or in the hunt for prey, the omega that he let dress his wounds, by doing so, accepted the bond between them. To allow an omega to see an alpha at their most vulnerable…it was a very special, intimate moment.

And you knew of that. He knows because the thought surfaces in your mind the moment you daub the dry fabric against the top of each pectoral where four dark and furiously red lines curve diagonally downward and end on each side of his pelvis. Blood beads the incisions that Yoongi’s serrated claws had left, and the tears that had threatened to fall before fight against the entrapment of your eyelids as you try to blink them away.

“It hurts, doesn’t it, alpha?” You ask with the guilt weighing at your words as you uncork one of the small ovular vials containing a yellow liquid, the woody-sweet scent pungent in your nostrils as you use the oil left by crushed eucalyptus to clean your hands before you pour it onto the strips of fabric you’d just torn and after, you push the cork into the vial and set it down before you.

You let guilt drag each of your hands containing the gauze downward very lightly as you follow the large virgules of red. Where you normally would admire the strong, defined contours of his chest, now, the sight of it has woe whispering in your ear.

His skin is hot to the touch. As if fire burns under his flesh. So fuming and inflamed in the redness that surrounds the gaping, curling lacerations. Both sides of his sternum have been raked– no, ripped–through by sharp claws. Yoongi had cut into your mate’s skin eight blood red half-moons; four on either side of his chest that were turned away from each other, their ends incurving from the base of his neck all the way down his torso and even along his hip bones. Layers of crimson ooze and leak down his body like water, and the sight has something in your bosom tightening in on itself as your vision becomes cloudy.

Somewhere down between the middle of his pectorals, the cloths become too saturated and heavy with blood to soak up any more.

Perhaps the tangibility of his suffering is what finally has the tears falling down your cheeks, the burning in your eyes unavoidable no matter how many times you try to blink it away.

Despite that it feels as if fire sears him everywhere Yoongi’s claws had been, there is worse pain to be felt. Like the gut-wrenching punch that is delivered to his belly when he sees the first of your tears slide down your face.

With the hand he has on your chin, he tilts your chin up as he answers honestly, “Nothing harms me more than watching the light of my life weep for me.”

“I…I can’t help it, alpha.” You respond dolefully, your own stomach dropping to the bowels of your body at the high volume of blood he’s losing so quickly. He’d already turned the entire tub of water he’d been in red, and still he bled. If this kept on…

You don’t let that thought continue. You can’t.

You drop the sopping cloths into an empty glass container you’d put next to the roll of gauze only to take the roll between your hands once again. This time, you do not stop unraveling it until you have much thicker stretches of cloth folded into squares. You do not forget to grab the vial of yellow fluid once more, the viscous oil slow to make its journey to the cloths. You lightly press them against the spots you had had the other ones placed against. The second you put them to his mutilated flesh, they slowly turn crimson. The more they are stained with his lifeblood, the more you are soused with leaden compunction.

It burns, yes, but your sadness smolders him more.

“You are blaming yourself for this.”

It is not a question. It’s a statement.

You draggle each of the gauzes down along the underside of his pectorals, letting them rest there as you watch them turn completely red with his blood.

Momentarily, you wonder if the silvers he’d put on you before would be able to numb the contrition that pulls your spirits away from you.

Your mate will not have any of that.

He runs the pad of his thumb along your chin as he coaxes, “Peer into my eyes, Y/N.”

Unquestioningly, you do. He’s more than earned your obedience. What you see in the depths of those orbs is unending and bottomless in the plunge to the part of him that he would never show anyone else. The part of him that he had kept buried and sunken in wait for the right creature to unearth it. So many masks he had had to wear when so many had ulterior motives and designs around him, but this creature before him? He would break them all to pieces so she could see him for what he really was.

Once, he had asked his father how he would really know if anyone wanted him for him and not his power or his rank. His father had simply laughed and told him: You won’t. All you can do is watch and wait to see someone’s true colors when they think no one else is watching.

This creature before him who cried in the face of his pain and suffering did so out of pure, genuine sorrow. He could feel it sinking your spirits, your very thoughts through the bond. He could see it deep in the valley of your eyes that are, even in the guilt that tries to make them cloudy, drizzling with love for him.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were true and that you were absolutely, unequivocally his. That is why he allows the walls of his reservedness to crumble as he confides:

“Hear my words, my love. This is a result of my own weakness. I teased you before about you wanting to do this. But know that you are only in this situation because I wasn’t strong enough to do what I needed to do.” He doesn’t let go of your chin. With his other hand, he places it between your breasts. The action has him sucking his lip between his teeth as excruciating pain shoots through his upper bicep where the flesh has been torn from limb. A river of red gushes from the open wound, but it matters little to him when pangs of your heart are slower even than his as if it, too, was sulking itself in blame. Despite the way his split blood vessels cry more tears of blood in the movement, he goes on with a grimace, “I know what you’re thinking, my sweet, beautiful girl. You are not to blame for this. Do not pity me. Do not feel guilty for me. If anything, I should be the one pitying you for having to tend to me for such serious injuries.” He leans forward, his lips meeting the flesh between your brows, “I’m sorry you had to see that. And I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you with only a scratch. But I meant every word of what I said when I made that oath to you that I would protect you with my body. My body can be mended. My soul, if it lost you, could not.”

The male before you shouldn’t even be able to move in his condition.

And yet, he does.

For you.

Your own emotions crack and fracture under the seriousness of his words and unhesitant ministrations. Each is packed with the mass of his candor and you can’t stop yourself from pouring your heart out to him.

“You ask me to simply accept this…this agony that you must be feeling, alpha, and I,” you cry out,” I cannot! I care too much for you to simply turn off my emotions. I cannot do it!”

You lift the strips of soddened fabric away from his chest through eyes full of tears, your sight descending to where you hold them in your now shaking hands as you place those, too, in the same glass bowl as the others. “You ask me not to blame myself, but your wounds…they are there because of me. And they are serious. Serious enough that if this keeps on, you-“ Your sniffle, shaking your head in unwillingness to finish the unbearable thought. You take the gauzy roll in your hands once more and unwind it, you have to rely on muscle memory because at this point, the constant slew of tears is too much for you to see through.

Your alpha’s eyes soften as you try to rub at your own, your tear-streaked cheeks sullied by the tracks the salty water had left, the fresh blood that now covers your hands a stark contrast to the darker, dried blood he’d painted on you earlier during the Smearing.

Why did that make you look even more beautiful to him?

“I’m not asking you to simply turn a blind eye to your feelings, sweetheart. Such a task would be difficult for anyone with a heart to attain.” He brings his lips under one of your eyes, the tang of salt and iron left on his lips as he does. “What I ask is that you try not to blame yourself for my errors. It is my misjudgment that earned me more scars. These are not the first, and they likely will not be the last.” He turns his head so he can leave a soft, featherlight kiss under your other eye. “These scars shall be proof of the trial I had to face to earn you. And I would take hundreds of thousands more of these for you. If I had lost an arm or leg tonight, I would have been alright with it. Your smile and your happiness are worth that much to me.”

The sound of the white fabric shredding between your fingers is muffled under his voice. It’s as if your senses have been dulled to all but him. Even the firelight fails to crackle in your ears amidst the steady beat of his own heart while you tremblingly let the lip of the vial teem with the oil that smells of honey, mint, and citrus.

“My happiness should never come at the expense of pain or suffering, alpha,” you murmur mournfully as you eye the bawling gashes of scarlet.

You crimp the gauze into two thick squares once they have been wetted with the oil before holding them down over the underside of each of his pectorals. You wait until the part in contact with his frayed skin is steeped in scarlet before you flip each of them over and depress them along the arched curvatures going in opposite directions toward each side of his pelvis.

His lips tighten, wrinkles forming where none existed before when you tenderly wipe away at the jagged ends of each of the four lines on either hemisphere of his torso where Yoongi’s claw had pierced the deepest, not bothering to hide his expression from you now at his most vulnerable. There was nothing to hide now. No reason to keep his pain from you when he knew that doing so would just upset you more.

It pains you to see him like this. You wish there was a way for you to make it all disappear, but unfortunately, there were no medicinal or herbal remedies that had the power to do that.

“Such is our way, omega. It is my duty to protect you. I will never neglect that obligation if it ensures your safety." He hisses when you gingerly drag the gauze along the same path upward to collect the stray rivulets of crimson that had dripped from the top of his wounds.

The incinerating flare of flames feels like it is scorching him from the inside out under each slash and tear in his flesh left by Yoongi’s claws, and each time you attempt wiping away the bloody tears his body weeps, more of his life essence is there to replace it.

The oil offers a mild cooling sensation, but it is similar to throwing a block of frozen ice into a roaring bonfire.

You note the lack of stoppage of blood flow from those wounds, concern turning your lips down even more. What you had been reluctant to think about before was becoming all the more possible now. Even if you did keep trying to refuse it.

Worry soon lugs you asunder with the guilt that swims densely about you, and your brows furrow as you instruct, “Alpha, I need you to lie down now. You aren’t having any changes in the blood loss and I fear that something bad may happen if you lose too much more.”

He nods, but the action has a dot spotting his vision and no matter how many times he blinks, it remains. Soon, there are more. And as he holds your watery gaze, more tears trek down the contours of your cheeks.

Something in his chest twinges that has nothing to do with the wounds Yoongi had left.

“As you say, my love.” He brings one knee carefully up toward his chest, his foot resting on the edge of the wood as he asks “What will you have me to do with this arm of mine? It’s in bad shape.”

You grab the now near-empty vial of eucalyptus oil that you’d set on the ground between your knees and return it to its place on the tray, your mind easily supplying you with the answer to his question after having spent so many nights hunched over tomes about medicinal treatments and herbal remedies as you rise, one of your hands wrapping around his nape and the other laying itself over the palm he has pressed between your breasts. The arm that palm is connected to is the one that Yoongi had mangled such that you can see bone between the split mess of muscles bordering it.

You can only imagine how much agony he must be in. If you could take it into yourself, you would.

Not that he would let you, though.

His promise to you had been made not only out of love for you, but out of pride as an alpha. An alpha that could not protect their mate was not deserving or worthy of her. It was an alpha’s responsibility by right to be the source of security and protection for his omega. An alpha who could not guarantee that for his omega had failed her.

Or so the tradition had held.

“You need to relax this arm and let me maneuver it so that it rests by your side. What I’m about to do will require a certain position,” you urge him down by the back of his neck, and while you know your measly strength could never compete against his, the fact that he allows you to move him so readily is an obvious display of trust. His back is laid atop the bench first, and you are delicate in the way you guide his head down until it, too, comes to a rest on the wood. “And it…it will hurt. I’m going to have to move your arm so we do not risk further injuring it. After that, I will need to clean it before applying pressure where the worst of the damage is.”

With conviction clearer than any concoction you could give him, he asserts, “Do what you have to do. You know what needs to be done. You have trained and studied well. It goes without saying that you have my trust. All of it.” He adds.

Gods, you couldn’t have asked for a more perfect mate.

“Let me be the voice of reassurance this time, alpha,” you express while you curl your fingers around the hand of his that is placed along your sternum. Your other cups the underside of his forearm and, scrupulously, you usher it to his side before slowly and surely straightening it. He grimaces, and to distract him, you assure, “I’ll do everything I can to fix you. I promise, alpha.”

You monitor the bone in his arm that shifts in the movement, the middle of his humerus exposed and clearly fractured. From the dark line running perpendicular to the bone along the end closest to his elbow, you know instantly that he’s suffered from a transverse fracture to the bone. Honestly, you had expected worse with the way Yoongi had thrashed his head with Jungkook’s poor arm trapped between his teeth. Those teeth had managed to pierce halfway through the vessels and muscles lining his upper arm, the punctures still gushing blood.

It should have been impossible for him to have moved it. And yet…

“How did you move this arm when your bone has been broken, alpha?” You ask, swallowing the emotion that wants to be let out as you assess him.

His brows scrunch together and he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “The pain was inconsequential next to the sadness that pooled in those pretty eyes.”

You fight the burning at the edges of your vision as you silently take your skirt between your fingers, the soft material pliable under your fingers. You don’t say anything. All you can do is let your hands work as you find the slit cut into it and tear along the line.

“What are you doing, my love?”

It is a question not asked out of doubt, but genuine curiosity.

The sound of ripping fabric ceases as you pull a sizable amount of the organza away from you and turn it inside out before placing it onto the tray beside his head and grabbing for the rectangular glass canister next to the eucalyptus oil.

I have to clean it. It’s infected already, and if I don’t get the bacteria out, your condition will worsen. Once I clean it, I will have to mobilize and brace it. A piece of my skirt should be the outer layer so as not to discomfort you.

You don’t trust your voice not to rupture, so you gently push the words to him through the bond as you grab the roll of cotton wool beside the gauze and unwind it before pressing it to your lips, closing your eyes, and silently begging for the mercy of the gods to take pity on him. To save him.

You knew what to do, but there was only so much that herbs and medicinal solutions could do.

You discard the thought like one of the blood-stained gauzes before you. You couldn’t afford to think like that. Especially not when you’d promised to put him at ease as he had always done for you.

When you bring the wool away from your mouth, you lift the lid from the container and the musky, earthy smell of the ginger poultice you’d prepared weeks ago joins the scent of muted iron in the air as you dip the wool into it several times to ensure its transfer onto the material.

The ginger will not hurt you, alpha. The pressure I will have to put on you will, however.

“I meant what I said, omega. Do what you need to do. I can take it.” He confides, opening his mouth so he can bite onto it.

I know, alpha. I know. More than anyone.

You pick up the considerably long, thick strip of wool from where you’d left it in a heap atop of the open poultice, bending over him before straightening it out so that it ran the length of his upper arm. Thankfully, it was just wide and long enough to completely cover his arm.

With one hand holding one end and your other hand on the other, you bring it down over the split skin from just under his shoulder to just above his elbow.

Just as you’d told him, there is no burning sensation as the gelatinous, thick solution is applied and spread across his sheared muscles, blood vessels, and bone. The blood spurting from the ruptures in his flesh is quick to permeate into the cotton, but you’d expected as much.

The ginger and eucalyptus have antioxidants, antibacterial, antiseptic, and disinfecting properties good for fighting infections. That’s why I chose to have Namjoon collect them from my personal store that I made.

Have I ever told you how attractive I find your intelligence?

Yes, alpha. You have.

You smile through the tears as you untwist more cotton wool from its spool, careful to lay it flat over the existing layer you’d just put over him. It, too, becomes saturated with his life’s essence within seconds.

He needed something else. Something to help boost the efficacy of the poultice. And you knew just the thing.

You scan the tray, evaluating the vials and containers left on it as you note the last addition you had yet to make. There, in the middle, was the small wooden box no longer than your hand and no taller than your pinky. You flip open the latch, the powder inside a brilliant yellow with the hint of orange tang under your nose.

His irises follow your every movement as you peel the layers of cotton wool up and off of him, disposing of them both in the same bowl as the other discolored fabrics.

When you unravel the dressings this time and steep them in the poultice, your other grabs a considerably sized clump of the crushed turmeric powder and sprinkles it all over his slashed open arm.

Three handfuls of that later, you are satisfied with the way the powder has been packed over the gash and surround it with several strips of the material lathered in the ginger solution.

The turmeric has curcumin in it, which can enhance granulation tissue formation and wound contraction. It also decreases inflammation and oxidation and can increase antioxidant capacity of the body, which means it helps fight compounds that could damage you.

The words are recited just as you had written them in one of your journals, and you busy yourself remembering that in lieu of your mind wandering to darker, scarier thoughts as his life’s essence clings to your hands while you rip apart more strips of cotton and run them all through the container of poultice.

Keep going, my love. Tell me more.

He feels the quiver of your hands as you lay each rectangular cloth down over his raw, chafed abrasions lining his chest, his uninjured arm wrapping around your thigh to steady you as his temples begin to ache.

The ginger root that this poultice was made from speeds along the healing process for cuts and abrasions among the other qualities it possesses. You won’t have to worry about these dressings falling off.

Underneath each dressing you affix to his front, his very cells feel as if they are being engulfed in an inferno. One that only blazes hotter every second that passes.

The gingerols and shogaols are compounds in it that will work as a natural adhesive to the cotton and to your skin without sticking or gluing it to you.

His second lack of response has you tilting your head in confusion.

You had said before that the poultice was not meant to feel like that, so whatever was happening, he was certain that you were not the cause. Perhaps it was just some strange side effect of blood loss? How odd that this sensation did not spread to his arm. He really should have studied more.

I’m fine, love. I think. My chest… it feels like I’m burning up from the inside. Have you any idea what that could be?

You’d read many books on herbology and medicine practices. None had ever described that as a symptom of blood loss.

With worry making your mouth go drier than cotton, you examine the way he blinks rapidly as if trying to get something out of his eyes.

W-what else ails you, alpha?

More dots have begun to occupy his sight, and no matter how many times he tries to close and open his eyes, they will not dissipate.

I cannot see properly. It is like there are dark circles blotting parts of my vision.

That was definitely a symptom of blood loss. But the burning sensations? That wasn’t characteristic of the lesions that had been cut into his skin. Nor was the ceaseless gush of scarlet from his chest injuries.

You recall the events that had brought you both here, identifying that it had only been Yoongi that had managed to harm your alpha. He’d been bitten on his arm and struck by claws on his chest. Two different points of contact with two different mediums.

You compare the two areas where he’d been mutilated, spotting the angered, puffed up flesh just that became more raised the closer it got to his now covered traumatisms on his torso. Like something was agitating it from the inside. His arm, however, mangled as it is, is not as badly puckered up around the gash despite the blood he’s losing. Which brings you to your next observation: His blood drips slowly and languidly from his chest wounds where it wells and spurts from his arm. With as deeply as Yoongi had pierced through him, he should have been losing more.

What is going on in that pretty head of yours, my love? Have you…have you discovered something?

There’s a slight pause between each of his unhurried words through your bond. As if it took effort to pull them forth.

You push through the distress that wants to drag you down, forcing yourself to focus and do everything that you could to aid him as you turn your attention to his arm now that you had taken care of his chest wounds.

You needed to stop the river of red that streamed down his arm. Without removing the cloth you’d set over it, you use your teeth to shear the white open-weaved fabric from the now nearly depleted roll it had once been spun around.

I will have to apply pressure as I said before to make sure the medicines set on the punctures in your arm. It…it’s going to hurt, alpha. If you want, you can bite onto my skirts. I don’t mind.

The offer earns you a nod, and so you rise to stand by his side and a wad of your skirt in your hands, hoping that he doesn’t mention the way that they shake as you do.

Forgive me, alpha.

It’s all the warning he gets before you place the dressings over the first layer covering his arm and push into the afflicted area, mindful of where his bone has been broken and avoiding that as you squeeze. Unlike the ruptures along his chest, this area does not nearly scald you.

He curses, his teeth grating into the fabric of your skirt as you apologize over and over again, guilt leaving tangible evidence of itself on your face while you cry for him.

Anyone else would have flinched, but not your alpha. No, he simply screws his eyes shut as he hisses through the material between his lips.

I’m sorry, alpha. I’m so, so sorry. But you have to stay like this for five minutes. I have to try to make the bleeding stop.

The dots that had been impairing his vision increase and the ache in his temples he’d felt before turns into a fierce throbbing as the world begins to dim around him while the claw marks along his chest ripple forth with black blood.

You perceive the way his eyes begin to flutter closed, the arm he’s wrapped around your thigh beginning to loosen. A tremble overcomes his body in the way that it suddenly is as if it’s gone down many degrees, and at that, a lump of dread drops into your stomach.

Not wanting him to slip into unconsciousness, you squeal. “N-no! Stay with me, a-alpha!”

Your voice cleaves through the barren desert that has set upon your throat.

I’m sorry, my love…I’m trying, but…it’s cold, yet my body feels like it’s on fire.

There are longer standstills between his words now. Like each one has to be dug up from the recesses of his mind.

Why has it suddenly become a….a blizzard in here? Why does…does my head feel…feel like someone is…is pounding… into it?

The dread in your belly is joined by another chunked mass of fear as his responsiveness slows with the unseen ice that encases and numbs him. When his good arm falls limply to his side from where it had been encircled around your thigh, you snivel, shaking your head vigorously back and forth as you whisper through a cracked voice, “No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be.”

As his eyelids tiredly droop, that’s when the panic grips your organs and wrings them out.

You had to stay strong. And you could not panic. Doing so would only stress him further.

But that thought is difficult to keep under the fleeting consciousness of your mate before you, who squeezes his eyes shut before opening them wide in effort to keep awake as you had instructed as he shivers.

You swallow around a brittle, sandy throat, wiping your hands on your bodice before your attention sifts around the room in search of something, anything, to help you. You start with the tray. The bowl of blood-soaked, soiled gauze and wrappings sits on its edge, the rolls of gauze and cotton wool in front of it. Next to them, the rectangular wooden box of turmeric powder remains beside the canister of ginger extract. Around them, the vial of eucalyptus lays on its side where the other glass containers of assorted colors and contents are placed. Three had been unused.

The first was a smaller brown bottle of oil secreted from crushed neem kernels you’d plucked from the seeds yourself. The second was a moderately sized canister of milk-colored paste you’d boiled and ground from coconuts. The last was a large flask of honey.

All would work to stop the bleeding. Five minutes had felt an eternity with his continually shallow breaths in your ear, his heart rate weakening under the lack of blood to push through his body. You hadn’t understood why your vocal cords felt so sore, but when you release him and the mewling coming from your mouth dies out, that answers the question.

You waste no time emptying the bottle of neem oil over each of his wounds as you sniffle, “Keep looking at me, alpha. Don’t go to sleep. I-I need you awake for me.”

Despite the gnawing pain in his temples and the ever increasing temperature that boils the parts of him under the skin of his thorax, he battles the darkness that wants to swallow him as he tries to stay in the light of your eyes that shine glassily down on him while you pour the honey, with unsteady hands, along each striation channeling his chest and arm before adding another lining of gauze over his crimson turned bandages.

“One more, alpha. One more, and then I can make a splint for your arm.” You don’t care anymore about the snot that runs down your nose with the tears trailing it as his skin begins to lose its color.

He nictates through bleary, dimmed orbs, and the sight twists your heartstrings.

You keep your hands busy, because you know the moment you stop is the moment he could slip through your fingers.

You cover both hands in the creamy mixture and with the first pass of your fingers against his sternum, you wrench your hand back in the overwhelming heat that scorches you like a blazing sun.

“You’re burning up, alpha.” The words are choked out. “It’s gotten worse.”

He says nothing. Doing so would cause it to sear him even more.

His pained expression is answer enough. And the discomfort of the sensation it had brought was nothing compared to what you knew he faced. For him, you would cross any sea of fire. For him, you would do this. No matter the cost.

So, you gently trail your fingers around the reddened, plowed planes of his chest to surround all sides of the new contours there in the substance.

You shake the canister over his arm so that thick dollops land over the flesh there so you can spread them around, too.

Once you’re certain no part of him is bereft of your attention, you straighten and scour the room for anything you could use as a splint. There alone atop the cabinet by the door, was a clipboard with paper. No doubt a visitor’s log.

It was the perfect length for his arm.

Before you leave his side, you check his vitals for any unseen changes. Still he attempts to combat the throes of sleep that wish to pull him asunder, but the most serious of his wounds have now been disinfected and dressed.

“Alpha,” you prod, “I’ll be right back, okay? I need to get something to stabilize your arm.”

You wait for him to give a slow incline of his head, the action causing him to wince as explosive pain fires through his temples.

You turn, but the watchful glance you keep on him remains as you make your way across the room. You do not miss the way his fingers along his good arm twitch as if searching for you.

Your fingers close around the edge of the board of wood, your own chest splintering at the sight.

You return to him within seconds, but gods, it had felt like hours.

This time, you walk over to the side of him where his bad arm now rests, one of your hands wrapping around the underside of his arm to coax it only an inch upward. He lets you so you can slip the board underneath it as you observe him for any fluctuations in symptoms. His pupils are stagnant and idle, but they do not stray from you even as his breathing begins to slow and his heart beats become fainter and fainter.

Worry sets in your veins as you take the piece of your skirts that you’d torn earlier and tie it around the board of wood and the bandages you’d put there.

When you press your index and middle finger to the pulsating vein along his neck, it beats feebly.

He needed to replenish the blood he’d lost before it was too late. And you knew, right then, exactly what you needed to do to fix that.

However, no matter how much you flipped through the pages of the books you’d read in your mind, the answer to his inquiries and asymptomatic conditions he’d alerted you to did not match what you knew of blood loss. Whatever he had described was clearly something else. Something that Yoongi must have done since he’d been the only one to successfully injure your mate.

Yoongi, who had bitten him on the arm and his claws on Jungkook’s torso where, surprisingly, Jungkook had explained the worst of his pain to be. Where you yourself had felt it to be in the irate ire of the wounds there so hot to the touch.

It is with that identification that you scrap the books you’d read about common ailments in lieu of one you’d been hunched over for many weeks trying to memorize in its abundance of knowledge. One that had detailed poisons and toxins. There was one that matched what you had seen and heard from him. One that, if introduced into the body, was capable of corrosive necrosis in cells and had sensations and symptoms that matched what he’d described. One that was odorless, colorless, and impossible to cure.

It must have been dappled on Yoongi’s claws. He must have known about the deadly poison carried by a large fungus that even necromancers hesitated to harvest. It was capable of causing the entire bodily organs and tissues to break down and feel as if they were burning in their degradation when the toxins turned the cells against each other.

Jungkook’s eyes close, and horror clods your ribs and bowels of your body.

You had to keep him awake. For fear of losing his life, you had to keep him from sinking into the darkness.

Stay with me, my mate. My alpha. My love. Please, don’t leave me.

The words course like a ravine through the bond, the waters of your affections evident in the tracks they leave down your cheeks as you lift your leg up and over so you can sit astride him, desperation making you move before your mind can. The raindrops of your sadness fall over him like a fall downpour, and soon, his entire chest is wet with the salve of your handmade solutions and sadness.

The longer his eyes stay shut, the closer he dangles to that dangerous idea you’d kept rejecting and denying. That idea became more real by the moment.

You promised me, alpha. You promised me that you wouldn’t leave me! I can’t do this without you!

Distress takes control as the rush of thoughts spill from you and you bring your hand to your teeth that you had subconsciously sharpened in the iron that now falls across your tongue.

I can’t do this without you, alpha. Life without you was life without meaning. Life without you was like having silver thrust on me every day from the moment I woke to the moment I fell asleep: gray, senseless and deadening.

Something warm trickles from the sides of your lips when all of your now edged, serrated upper teeth easily prick and slice through your palm and you suck a mouthful between your lips.

The taughtened muscles around his eyes and mouth slacken, the movement of his irises behind his lids moving this way and that. As if he was still trying to search for you in the darkness. The gentle thud of his heart is all that you hear in your ears anymore. No other sounds matter.

You speak to him through it, hoping with everything in you that doing so will give him something to hold onto.

I love you, alpha. I love you more than anything in this world. So please, come back to me. Come back to me so I can express it to you, show it to you, and make more wonderful, beautiful, colorful memories with you.

You take his chin between the fingers of your other hand, lifting it before using your thumb to part his lips.

With the hand you’d just bitten, you hold it over his mouth only to turn your palm to the side before curling your digits in, your nails sinking into the fragile flesh to cut into it so that more streaks of crimson dribble down, the dark drops of your blood falling between his lips.

Adam's apple bobs as he tries to swallow it, but it’s not enough.

As you watch your blood spread across his tongue, you can’t help but notice how his skin has gone whiter than sleet, his usual golden glow drained with his life’s essence as he continues to shudder beneath you.

The faint presence of him dwindles in the bond like candlelight that the cold darkness schemes to snuff out, but still he is kindled in yours as you lean forward, your mouth seeking him.

Take my blood, alpha. Drink and replenish what you have lost. It is the only way.

The last sound of you is tucked in his mind just as your mouth slots itself over his, the mouthful of your blood that you had drawn forth from your hand soon emptied into his as he swallows it weakly. You mindfully set your bleeding hand between the middle of his sternum, the thick redness sobbing for him, too, as it spreads down his torso and seeps into the coverings draped across his chest.

With the first swill of you down his throat, the throbbing in his temples begins to dull and the air around him starts to warm.

It’s as if your blood had passed life into him, for his tongue eventually sweeps at the excesses of your mouth for the remnants that percolate from the small scrapes your teeth had left in your cheeks. You let him lick it, and with each pass of his tongue over each one, the muscle beating under your hand on his chest beats steadier. Stronger. Louder.

He required more. Way more after all that he had lost. And you? You intended to give it to him.

When he’s lapped all of your quintessence up, you pull away only to bring the hand you’d bitten to his lips in offering.

With his eyes still closed, he can’t see it, but he can smell it.

The tang of iron is powerful enough to summon his mouth to it, his baser being taking over as he closes his mouth around your open palm.

His teeth pierce through you easily and when your blood bursts forth from the punctures and he sups it without hesitation.

The violent, searing pain stemming from the claw marks along his torso where your blood had permeated through his bandages starts to lessen amid the ache that is dispelled in his skull. The quavering of his body soon ceases in the absence of the chill he’d felt before.

He wraps his lips tighter around you, and when he extracts your essence this time, it is with more urgency.

You run your other hand through his dark, ebony hair, the color slowly returning to his cheeks as he drinks from you.

“Take as much as you need, my love. You will require quite a few mouthfuls to, ah-“

You pause when he detaches from your hand, licking at the stray droplets of your blood before gripping your forearm to bring your wrist to his nose so he can inhale and run his lips longingly along it. His head falls back as he does, the pink muscle slipping between his lips to taste the remnants of you there, too.

“Want to…bite you…right here. Can I?” He asks hoarsely yet huskily.

You’re already answering before he’s even finished. “I’m all yours, alpha.”

The implications of this are not lost on you. By puncturing your scent glands where they produce the oils and scent of you the most–seconded only by your neck–his bite will forever leave his trace where he’d enter you. No other wolf would be able to take in your succulent smell without his lingering odor behind it.

From where you are seated on his lap, you swear you see his eyes roll back behind his lids.

When his canines elongate such that they protrude from his upper lip and he penetrates your flesh along the middle of your wrist, your blood eagerly teems into his mouth. Just like the first time he’d bitten you, there is no pain in the sharpness of those teeth. What was urgency before becomes hunger now as he feeds on you, his cheeks hollowing as he quaffs the life-giving nectar you have produced just for him.

You shudder as he draws deep, gulping mouthful after mouthful and all the worry you’d had before is sapped away as he does.

Your flavor is so fucking saccharine on his tongue, and each time your essence washes down his throat, his body surges with vitality and energy.

He can’t get enough of it. It’s too good. You’re too good.

More he takes and more he swallows like a crazed male, and you allow it as your own lids lower while you ogle him as the released endorphins stored in the glands along your wrist flood you in pleasure as you mindlessly–instinctively– rut your hips into his.

“Do I taste good, alpha?” You moan softly, your body growing limp as the fingers you’d twisted and twined around his locks loosen.

You taste sweeter than sweet.

His good arm shoots out so his fingers can splay around your hip to steady you as he indulges in the pulses and pangs of strength that return to him with each consuming swig of your lifeblood, your hips helped back and forth by the hand he has on one of them as your moans turn to whimpers.

You taste something like pineapple, grapes, strawberries, and everything good in this world.

When his eyes open, he looks at you like you’re a fucking goddess. Like you’re some kind of deity, and he is some servant beneath you.

He revels in the revelation that graces him as he takes in the sight of you atop him.

Your crimson-stained lips have slightly fallen ajar to reveal still jagged, pointed canines, remnants of red still flecking the sides of your mouth. Your silver irises have been glazed by desire, the daubing of crimson along your lids creating a deprived picture.

The dried, dark paint of his own blood that he’d smeared all over you was still there, but the new addition of his scarlet handprint between your breasts and streaks the same color all along your skirt and bodice are all the more depicting of a debased creature.

You straddle him, your gown ripped unevenly along one of your legs to reveal one bare calf and thigh.

How he had fucking ruined you.

His once pure, innocent goddess that must have been a fallen, divine being sent to him to save him.

“J-Jungkook,” you whine when your vision begins to darken at the edges as his teeth bury themselves deeper into your flesh so he can cravingly command more of you down, “I…I-“

The strong hand on waist pulls you down over his hardening member, your breath hitching when you remember he’s entirely naked beneath you.

“Even goddesses have their limit. I can see it,” he groans around your wrist as he savors the way you sag forward, your thighs loosening from where you’d been squeezing him between them. “I can feel it.”

He takes one more mouthful of your rich, piquant ichor, your front slumping forward until your head rests in the crook of his neck.

With your jugular vein so close to his ears, the rhythm set by the tune of your heart beats far too slow. The sound snaps him out of his craze instantly as the hand on your waist clutches you tighter as if you might slip away if he doesn’t hold you close enough.

“Goddess? Do you mean…me?” You drawl out the words through the tingling sensation in your head.

Despite the loss of your blood, affection courses through you when he attentively dislodges his teeth from you and makes sure to catch the bright red drops that run forth from the two new dark blots along the underside of your smaller wrist. As he does, he affirms, “You saved me.”

The hand at your waist gives you another comforting squeeze before it journeys up along your side, your shoulder, and then down your arm until his digits close around your wrist so he can rub soothing circles into it. “I was so lost in the darkness, omega, but your voice…I followed it back to you.”

“Me?” It’s all you can say. The rush of endorphins fades with the extraction of his teeth, and your hips slow to still as his words sober you.

One side of his lips turn up at that. “Yes, my love. You.” He coaxes your wrist upwards so he can kiss you where his teeth and yours had been. “You, the light of my life. The reason for my being, The purpose of my existence.” His head falls to the side as he shepherds your hand toward the palpitating muscle along his chest. “I once thought of you as my queen, but I see now that you’re so much more than that.” He places your hand right above his heart, and you’re so mesmerized by those beaming irises of gold that you don’t even realize what he’s done when those warm, calloused fingers brush along the side of your cheek until they rest in your hair and his palm holds the edge of your jaw to coax it upward as he brings his mouth near to yours. “Your voice is a song that even the muses envy. Your body is the drink of the gods that even they would fight wars for. Your mind and soul are so perfect and good that even demons would wish they could bottle them.”

His eyes twinkle with sincerity as he goes on, both fondness and affection for him taking turns to cleanse you of the desire you’d felt before so that something much deeper can fill your entire being.

“Shhh, alpha… you need to rest now. This can all wait until later.” Your words are throaty and full, for your heart has somehow found its way there, too. “You lost a lot of blood and-“

He seals your mouth with his, and like wax under a newborn wick, you melt into it. He’s warm and gentle in the warmness that he emanates that no candle ever could. The quiet intimacy of it has your lids falling to a close, the air around you making way for you both as you share each other’s breath.

There was nothing quite like this. Nothing like the way that your fingers sought any part of him that they could as they both encircled his uninjured wrist, unwilling to let him go. Nothing like the way your body was perfectly molded against his, the kiss akin to a butterfly’s wing in its softness that could take your breath away. It was the water that quenched after a drought. It was the furs that gave such comfort on a winter’s night. It was the rain and a flame all at once.

And gods, he couldn’t bear even a second’s separation from her. Truly, he’d never been so blessed with the gift of life until now. Until you. Hell would surely have frozen over before he would relinquish this: your mesmerizing, mellow eyes; your pliant, pretty lips; your stuttered, stammered breaths whenever he looked at you; your smaller, tinier hands that loosed and tightened around his wrist as he held you.

But his damned lungs just had to get some air, and so he had been forced into breaking the kiss.

When his mouth parts from yours, he breathes heavily. “I do not need rest when I have you. Imaginings and visions leave little to be desired when their source is on top of me like this. And,” the other side of his lips lift up and you’re sure that thudding in your ears gets louder as he does, “It would be rather impolite not to pay my respects to you, my divine little deity. You were–are–magnificent.”

You try to hide your face in his neck, your cheeks heating up at his praise. He won’t have any of that, and so he urges it back up.

Looking into those eyes is like looking into two orbs spun by the sun. That warmth that emanates over your skin like warm rays makes everything else lackluster, and even his voice carries that vivid color of emotion as he voices, “Do not hide from the truth, my love.”

You make a sound of questioning, not understanding what he’s just said. It’s as if there’s a fuzzy blanket around your body and mind, your disoriented thoughts too sluggish to formulate for you to say much more.

He chuckles lightly, his chest moving up and down gentle enough to not jostle you.

“You do not know it, but I shall help you see.” He offers, nosing at your jawline as he does. “Allow me to show you what you did to me, my love. I think you’ll find the evidence of your miracles when you do.”

He releases you, a quiet whine leaving your lips at the absence of his touch. Soft lips are there to soothe you when his mouth brushes where his hand had been at the edge of your jaw. There he presses his lips as he tells you, “Look down, my love.”

You’d been expecting to see more blood spilling from the open wounds arcing down both sides of his chest, his bandages completely soaked through with his life’s essence.

You did not expect to see one of the lines of gauze you’d laid down over the lacerations lifted in the air by your alpha to reveal a deep gash completely closed, the angry red slash now only a faint line of pink.

As if it were nothing but an old war scar.

At first, you think you might be seeing things.

You blink owlishly at him, and he grins only to pull back another strip of fabric that you’d used to pack another wound.

It, too, is only a faded, paled remnant of what it had been minutes ago.

Your fingers lethargically draw down his torso where the flesh that had been raised and furious is now smooth and normal.

There is no pain that festers there with the poison that had been set upon him by Yoongi’s claw. Its dissipation had had nothing to do with your medicines. He knows that now. It had been you.

Your lids have begun to grow heavy as sleep begins to beckon, and all you can do through the drowsiness that has set as you rest one of your temples against his shoulder so you can still stare at him as you manage the only word you can summon in your dumbfounded state. “How?”

“My mother used to tell me stories about our ancestors. It was said that the first rulers of our kind, who were chosen by the gods, were given abilities no others possessed.” Your mate tosses the soiled dressings into the bowl before he reaches for his splinted arm wrapped in bandages. “Abilities that made the rest of our kind lower their heads in awe.” He unties the knot you’d made out of the ripped fragment of your gown you’d affixed the wooden board to, and while he does, he tells you, “She told me that the king and queen of our kind were fated by their souls. That the first omega’s songs of mourning had so moved the gods when he’d been killed trying to protect her that they gave her the power to heal him through her kiss.”

Slumber drags you away from him, his voice fading the more it tugs and tugs you as he goes on. “So powerful was she that the other wolves revered her as a goddess in her capacity to mend and restore not only the physical body, but the soul and mind as well. And her king? He was vested by the gods who took pity on him with strength, speed, size, and stamina that no other could match.”

Distantly, you think you see a glimpse of the linens you’d put around his arm being peeled back to uncover what you had thought had been a mangled mess of bone and flesh. But no longer. Now, just like his chest, there are only small grazes and punctures that have since been pulled together with slightly darker cicatrix marring him.

When your lids fall closed and sleep takes you from him, he uses that arm to secure you close as he attentively watches over you. In your ear, he confides, “Rest up now, beautiful deity. You shall need it for what is to come, my love.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts writing #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts #jungkook bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #alpha!jungkook #alpha!jungkook x reader #dom!jungkook #sub!reader

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captainfern · 8 months

Note

Bestie- I know requests are closed and ily and I apologize I'm really just writing this so the idea is in the air and now wasted. But I was wondering if you could do a fic of Price + 141 where reader accidentally used a pheromone perfume.

It WORKS tho, like WORK WORKS. The guys (or just Price ofc) just kinda run on instinct and are super like..RAR SEX ya know??

Also HII IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE REQUESTED!!! My birthday was the 15th, I'm now 20😐 but I also got a car so😋

Anywho glad to be back reading your stuff after I went away for a bit. LOVED the Marigold stories that came out!!!! Love that series sm. Thank you!!

-🌻🐾

aghh this is so late i’m sorry !! but happy late birthday and i hope you had a lovely day <3

here’s a birthday present for you x sorry it’s not a full fic, but i hope you enjoy anyway :)

18+, gn!reader, 141

price

he smells it on you and does a double take like what ?? what is that smell ??

you’re all like “what smell ?? 🙈”

starts rubbing his facial hair against your neck like a cat, trying to collect as much of the smell as possible on him — he’s gripping your hips and pressing you as close to him as he possibly can while he does it

pinching and grabbing at your hips each time you try and put some space between the two of you. he continues to rub his beard against you, it tickling your soft skin

he’s grunting and not really listening to you as you try and speak to him. the only time he responds is when you say that he can fuck you and he goes off !!

ruts into you hard, nosing up and down your neck, kissing along your pulse. he’s got a heavy grip on your hips, no doubt leaving indents, as he thrusts in and out of you

his sounds are deep, like grunts and groans, and he doesn’t talk much, so focused on that yearning feeling clawing inside him each time he inhaled the sweet smell of you

gaz

you physically show him the perfume and show you putting it on, and he’s all like “that will never work it’s fake 🙄”

spoiler alert: it worked

throughout the day, he’s following you around like a lost puppy, trying to put his hands on you any chance he can, even just holding your hand or wrapping his arm around your lower back — you feel so warm against him and you smell so good he can’t help it

if you applied some on your inner wrists, he’ll place gentle kisses there and along your arm, leaving your skin sparkling with tiny patches of saliva

he whines any time you pull your arm away, especially if you’re carrying on with your day at home as usual after putting the perfume on. he’ll whine and try to get your attention without actually trying to get your attention

when you finally give in, he’s eating you out like no tomorrow — you’ve sprayed a bit on your inner thighs, so he’s pressing his cheeks to them as he shoves his tongue inside your hole

is a whiner and whimperer !! so so desperate for more, tasting you on his tongue and smelling your heady scent

soap

he buys the perfume for you 100%

real cocky about it too. he knows it’ll work and he can’t wait to test it out

tries licking it at first, dragging his tongue across your neck or wrists, and you have to fend him off before the cheeky cunt licks it all off of you lmao

if you’ve sprayed some on your pillows/clothes, you’ll come home to find him burying his face in it, probably grinding his hardened cock into the mattress, moaning your name under his breath

he’s obsessed with you, but you can’t blame him, you’re fucking stunning !! he’s so happy just to start humping up against your arse, pressing his cock against you, moaning loudly

fucks you doggy, pounds you straight into the damn mattress with deep, heavy thrusts that have you mewling, his full balls slapping against you

moans loudly, and definitely kisses wet and sloppy along your spine, leaving a trail of spit as he fucks you harder into the bed

ghost

you watch his pupils physically dilate right in front of you as he catches the smell

he straight up starts salivating too

intrigued by the way whatever you’re wearing is effecting his body — drapes his body over yours carefully, whole body weight against you, your back against his front as he casually inhales in deep breaths

very attentive and loving — rubbing the fat of your thighs and arse gently, hands splaying across your tummy, interlocking his fingers with yours, massaging your shoulders and back

keeps his face buried in your neck the whole time basically. if he had been wearing his black paint, it’d be smudged all across your skin

mmm he fucks you nice and slow, and no matter the pigment of your skin he is sucking kisses and dark bruises all over your neck and chest !! his thrusts are almost too slow, but he’s grinding his pelvis against yours and making you tremble beneath him

praises you the whole time, telling you how good you are for him, how much he loves you, how pretty you are, how perfect your body is, how proud he is for you taking all of his cock <3

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #cod smut #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #call of duty mw2

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ystrike1 · 7 months

Text

Honey Trouble - By Morak (8.5/10)

A/B/O, but everybody is rich and everybody is happy. Our main couple has it made. The son of a famous actress. The son of two successful architects. They're just sleeping together now, but our spoiled main character is about to get a lavish marriage proposal. Life couldn’t be more perfect, and then it isn't. Then his casual lover changes.

Wooju is a moron. A pretty one, who happens to be a Beta from a rich family. He's rich enough to not work ever, but he's passionate about architecture. Which is super convenient because his loving parents own a construction company. He plans to work diligently for other firms, because he knows his parents will only let him into the fold if he proves himself.

He's also stupid about romance. He seems to think he's not popular, because everybody is crazy about Alphas and Omegas. He doesn't seem to know about the illegal drugs out there that can change genders. He's selfish and carefree.

He starts sleeping with his childhood friend for an extremely dumb reason. Jiheon loves him. Love. Love. Love. Loves him. His entire family knows how possessive he is, but Wooju doesn't. He's used to being spoiled.

He's used to Jiheon spoiling him. Jiheon is always there supporting and helping Wooju, but it's tainted by stalking. Wooju has no idea, because he thinks Alphas are only obsessed with Omegas. Usually they are. It's rare for an Alpha to choose a Beta, but it happens. Wooju is totally ignorant, even when Jiheon is serious about proposing to him. Jiheon is a monster, but it's easy to feel bad for him. He did all the right things. They're best friends. They're sleeping together, but Wooju just doesn't see him as a partner because of his gender.

It's actually painful to read.

Wooju is a little weird because be got kidnapped once???? Jiheon was somehow involved???? Most likely the adults in both families were involved, because the boys were just kids but what??? The mystery kidnapping messed with their friendship for a while too? It's been thirty chapters and the kidnapping hasn't been explained????

Real intrigue in an A/B/O story??? I am impressed????

Wooju has a crush on Jiheon's cousin. That doesn't last long. That poor cousin is terrified. She is also a lesbian, but she also doesn't want to piss off her crazy Alpha relative. It's all very cute? At first? Wooju and Jiheon do behave like a married couple. It's easy to imagine them together, after Wooju realizes gender doesn't matter.

Jiheon is a model. He's rich. He's got mommy issues. His mommy doesn't love him and she doesn't even visit him. When he became an adult she left the country and cut contact. He's a big, tough, successful Alpha but he's never had a family. That's why he tries to spoil Wooju so much. He loves Wooju. He wants to spend the rest of his life with Wooju. They're both rich. They can just adopt kids. Jiheon wants to marry someone who is like a best friend, not a sexy Omega that is just...there to be sexy.

It's all very wholesome, in the beginning.

Jiheon plans a proposal. He hires Wooju's favorite architect. Said architectural genius is going to design their wedding house. That's right Jiheon is so rich he's gifting Wooju a custom home. Architect guy turns out to be a creep who takes advantage of Wooju's admiration, and everything goes sour.

Everything starts to go wrong.

Architect guy is really annoying. He withholds information. He makes Jiheon look like a bad guy, because he's interested in Wooju and he wants their relationship to crack. There's also a pretty gross age gap. Also they are teacher and student. Also Wooju thinks he's hot, but he is not interested in architect/professor guy romantically. It's just awkward. Architect guy just tosses him into awkward sexy situations, when he's in class to learn??? Like, its so rude??? You're supposed to be teaching a passionate architecture fan, but you're horny and you'd rather make him uncomfortable....it's....icky.

Architect Guy explains pheromone marking to Wooju. He says Wooju is covered in Jiheon markings. Then he leaves a marking on Wooju, an extremely insecure Alpha who is about to PROPOSE WITH A HOUSE, just to freak Jiheon out.

Jiheon does freak out.

Things get worse.

Things get worse again. This is Wooju's ex-boyfriend. Yes, Wooju has dated men before. Yes, Jiheon didn't know. Yes, Wooju hasn't expressed any interest in committing to Jiheon and it seems like he wants to stay besties forever. Wooju and the ex are on good terms as well.

Also.

Wooju dated this guy when his relationship with Jiheon went bad before. So basically as soon as Jiheon left he started banging dudes.

Jiheon starts to see red.

They have a fight, and it's the last chance. Jiheon cries. He asks Wooju, with tears in his eyes, if he wants more. Wooju isn't a baby. He's an architect in training with talent. He has dated before. He just has trouble seeing a future with Jiheon, because he's an Alpha and they have that kidnapping trauma bond thing.

He doesn't tell Jiheon he cares. Jiheon runs away alone, thinking he's not special to Wooju. He's not special to his mom. He's not special to anyone he loves. To have love he must pick an Omega and entrap them into loving him. That's his only option. He starts to see his true self as unworthy of love. Only his Alpha self is capable of stealing it from someone else, so he can finally have it.

Do you remember the drugs I mentioned before????????????

Do you?????

#Honey Trouble #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #yaoi

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deepdisireslonging · 6 days

Text

All the Better

For lack of better description, the Reader belongs to Wardlow, the war dog of AEW. He likes to lean into the wolf motif, especially when it comes to taking care of his girl. For their anniversary, he buys her a red set of lingerie… and tells her to run.

Pairing: Wardlow x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, hunter/prey vibes, eroticizing of a children’s story, edging, pheromone-perfume use, oral (female receiving), P-in-V; So. Much. Smut.

Word Count: 2960

Note: I’m so not sorry for hitting you all with this. Happy reading!

For being such a big guy, Wardlow was quiet. You’d lost count of how many times you’d be in the kitchen making coffee, or backstage going over paperwork, or anywhere else thinking you were completely alone… and suddenly the hairs would stand up on the back of your neck. You’d turn, and there he was. That big smile lighting up his face and warming you like the sun. He especially liked sneaking up behind you to growl a greeting against the skin between your shoulder blades. This silent ability of his pretty much always kept you on edge.

You were home. It was the eve of your anniversary. You were nervously cleaning up before Wardlow would arrive, probably rushing in on two wheels. He had hinted for days that he had something special planned. More than dinner out at a nice place. You’d dressed up a bit, just in case. But just on the surface. Since he had a habit of ripping off your underclothes the second he had you in his arms, you didn’t bother past matching the color of your bra and panties.

The doorbell rang.

You smiled. Ever the gentleman.

“Hello, there, tall stranger. How may I help you?”

Your man looked delectable. His medium-nice suit showed off his broad shoulders well. And his shirt was open at the front, giving you the smallest peak of his strong collarbone.

“I have a delivery for a Ms. Y/N.” He held out a bouquet of your favorite flowers. While you accepted them happily, he smirked as you kept an eye on the package under his arm. “And this too.”

You sat the flowers aside and reached for the box. Just as your fingers grasped the ribbon, his hand shot out, snagging your wrist. He tugged you close to his chest; his cologne made you heady.

“I’m giving you a ten-minute head start. Then… run. Hide. But I will find you. And you won’t rest till tomorrow morning after I’m done ravaging you.” He leaned back, watching your expression. “Alright?”

You nodded vigorously. With the way his eyes glinted hungrily, you had a good idea what the box contained.

He looked you up and down like he could already picture having you pinned to your bed, or the couch, or a wall. He glanced at his watch. “Nine minutes. Thirty seconds.” Then, gently pressing against your stomach, he pushed you back into the house. He arched an eyebrow at you with a smile and closed the door with him on the outside. The lock engaged.

You rushed up the stairs to the bedroom, the flowers abandoned by the door. Ripping open the packaging, you froze as the first glance of lace peeked between the layers of tissue paper.

It was red. The whole set. There was more coverage for your breasts and ass than his usual picks. Then again, it would hold you a little better as you ran. The baby-doll jacket had a lightweight hood sewed onto the back, finishing the ensemble.

So he wanted to play Big Bad Wolf.

You fumbled your way quickly into the set. This Little Red Riding Hood was happy to make for an interesting chase. But when you glanced at the clock on the end table, you jolted. How much time had passed? You didn’t think to look earlier. Now you had no idea if he’d knocked five minutes ago, three, or nine.

You frantically tried to think of a place to hide.

On a whim, you spritzed his favorite perfume on your pulse points. It had been an impulse buy, more of a joke. The pheromones the perfume was supposed to contain had made you giggle when you saw it on the shelf. Then breathless when Wardlow caught the scent of it when he buried his nose in the curve of your neck. Now you always kept it in stock. If it drove him wild on a normal day… You wafted a spray over your belly button for good measure.

You heard a creak. Was he headed up the stairs already? Or was the house settling?

Forgetting your half-baked plan, you hurried across the hall. The house wasn’t too big, but there were extra rooms for when your parents and friends visited, and for your office, and for his personal gym. The steps you heard seemed to still be downstairs. You hazarded tiptoeing to the top edge of the steps.

He wasn’t in sight. But the flowers were in a vase on the kitchen counter.

If he wasn’t in sight… this might be your only chance to hide downstairs before he came up to look for you.

You hugged the railing on the way down. Just as you slipped behind the large armchair in the corner, Wardlow stepped into the living room. You couldn’t see him. But you could hear how his steps paused at the base of the stairs. Holding your breath, you waited to hear his next move. When you heard nothing for several seconds, you glanced around the back of the chair.

His shoes were sitting empty at the bottom of the steps.

Silently, you cursed to yourself. He was quiet in shoes. And nearly completely silent in socks. But… that would also make his pursuit slippery on the hardwood floors on the kitchen-side of the house. You headed that direction, hoping to hide somewhere in the dining room.

You never made it.

A hand reached out from the shadow of a door frame and snagged you by the throat. In seconds, you were pinned with your cheek to the wall as Wardlow pressed hard behind you.

“Hello there,” he teased in your ear. He took a deep breath, taking in the quivering of your body and the sight of you in your red outfit. Then he inhaled the scent of your perfume. If you’d been able to see his face, you were sure his eyes would have dilated. He leaned in closer, running his hands over your stomach and your breasts. “You’re a genius.”

You laughed. “Thanks. Still didn’t last long.” With whimper, you bit your lip as Wardlow ground his hard bulge into your ass. “Feels like you won’t last long either.” But when you tried to reach back for him, he growled in your ear and pinned your hands to the small of your back.

“What makes you think we’re done playing?” He continued to knead your breasts. Hyped up on adrenaline as you were, your nerves were already thrumming. Each squeezing grip and roll of your nipples drove you higher towards pleasure. “Like I said, I’m not going to be done with you till morning. And I intend to take you as I like you, when I like. So, run, Babygirl. Run.”

With a gasp, you realized you were alone again. Your body was shivering with need… and playful fear. This was worse than you thought. You thought his plan was to ravage you when he caught you. But now you knew: he intended to hunt you down over and over again, toying and edging you all evening, until he couldn’t take it anymore. And Wardlow was a patient man.

Dizzy with arousal you stumbled to the dining room. And regretted your choice. There was nowhere to hide here. And your red lingerie stood out like a red flag to a bull. Your chest heaved with panting; you could still feel his large hands on your breasts. He wasn’t far away.

The lights flicked on, making you yelp.

But he didn’t come into the room.

You knew he was waiting outside. Waiting for you to dash by so he could grab you again. What would he do to you this time? Spread his hands across your hot spots again until you couldn’t see straight? Or would he dip his fingers beneath the fabric to search out your slick? There was plenty for him to find.

Taking a breath, you made a break for it. No hand reached for you. No shadow rose up into your path. But the light flicked off in the room, making you run faster. You ran to the end of the hallway, suddenly turning into a room. You re-closed the door as quietly as you could and looked around. It was Wardlow’s gym. The wall-to-wall mirror on one side left nothing out of sight. But you hurried to the far corner anyway, ducking behind the cabinet that held his equipment. And not a moment too soon.

Wardlow entered. He looked around, glancing in the mirror for a flash of red. When he didn’t see a trace of you, he shut the door. You assumed it was on his way out. With your hiding place on the same side as the glass, you weren’t 100% sure.

Time to find another place to hide.

But as you emerged, a shadow moved behind yours.

Wardlow pinned your back to the wide bench in the center of the room. He took a seat, hiking your legs over his clothed thighs. Before you could try to roll away, he spread a large, warm hand over your abdomen.

Without a word, he began to run his thumb across the fabric above your clit. It was thin enough for you to feel every movement, and thick enough that he would have to work for a bit before your wetness would seep through. He titled this head to watch your response. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as you arched, doing your best to move closer to his administrations and grind into his bulge. His eyes glittered as you keened under his quickening touch. You were panting. With your hands in your hair, and your eyes closed, you were completely at his mercy.

He slid his other thumb into your mouth, using it to tilt your head to one side. You opened your eyes. Shivering, you saw yourself in the mirror as he saw you: already blissed out of your mind and your body pleading for him to take you.

“Please,” you moaned around his thumb. Sucking on it like you would his cock, you smoothed a hand down your thigh before placing it over his on your sex. “Please, baby-“

“Not yet.”

Sitting you up, he motioned to the door with a nod. He chuckled as you stumbled into the door frame on the way out.

Your captures came quicker after that. He did, indeed, pin you to the back of the couch. And to the bookshelves while he kissed deeply between your breasts. He’d dragged you out from under the guest bed, ignoring your screams of shock and delight so he could mouth up your spine. You only made it halfway up the stairs before he pinned you there too, kissing you deeply enough that you never wanted to move. But he sent you off with a slap to your ass.

Vision blurry around the edges and mind hazy with need, you finally collapsed onto your bed. The box you’d left there was gone. And he’d somehow managed to sneak up here and flick on the electric candles you kept for such nights. You agreed they were safer to use when your need burned for each other without needing to risk burning down the house. Trembling with arousal, you let the babydoll caplet fall off your shoulders. You crawled up to lay against the pillows. Despite the trouble it would cause when he caught you, you kneaded your breasts.

The door swung open, giving Wardlow a full sight of your hands trying desperately to replicate what his could do.

“Surrendering already, baby?”

“Mhmm.” You bit your bottom lip, keening for him to manhandle you all he liked.

But he stopped at the foot of the bed. “That’s it. Put on a show for me.” He choked as your mouth fell open with a high whine. “Do you need me that badly, Y/N? Where do you need me?” You reached for the edge of your panties, but he stopped you with a tsk. “Only I get to take those off.”

Your eyes drifted open from where they’d fluttered shut. And you almost forgot to keep moving. As much as you had been giving him a show, he began to give you one. Every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man. Because half the fun is watching the suit come off. Your breath stuttered as he lazily undid each button on his shirt. His suit jacket was long gone. As the expanse of his shoulders and chest were revealed, you pressed your thighs together. He smirked at your desperation, deftly removing his pants and every last scrap of fabric. While your movements stilled, enraptured by the sight in front of you, he lightly fisted his cock. For a second, the air paused. You leaned further into the pillows under his gaze. Then he crawled over you.

“What a big mouth you have,” you said with a smirk. You twirled your fingers into his hair.

He chuckled. And caught your earlobe between his teeth. “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”

He kissed you deeply under your jaw. Over your lips until you could barely breathe. And into the center of your chest to make you arch. Deftly, he unhooked the back of your bra and slid it down your arms before tossing it to the floor. He kissed down your stomach. When he scented around your belly button, he almost lost his composure. Instead, he snagged the last bit of lace between his teeth, dragging it down and off until you were bare for him.

It infuriated you how he kissed the inside of your thighs. How he kissed down to one of your knees and back up again. All the while his hands kneaded your hips. You desperately thrust, trying to draw him where you wanted. But he took his time. Nothing you could ever do was going to dissuade him from taking you how he liked, when he liked.

Just when you were sure he would keep you on edge like this for hours, he finally ran his nose across the top of your sex. The way he ate you out was like he’d never taste you again. Once he found the slick you had since the first time he pinned you to the wall, he was relentless. Tongue and fingers and humming and everything to take you high without sending you over. His thumb lightly flicked your clit while his tongue lapped at you. And when he did curl his fingers into you, it was never fast enough to make you cum.

So you tried one more thing to get what you wanted.

“Please, Michael. Make me cum. Please, baby, please.” You took to kneading your breast again, while your other hand curled into his hair.

His response was to rest his head on his hand as it splayed across your abdomen. All the while, his thumb never stopped toying with you. Each flick sent a jolt through you, making your breath stutter. He smiled darkly, watching your whole body flinch with the sensation.

“Why? Maybe I want to eat you out like this all night?”

You mewled. As lovely as that sounded… “but I need you. Needed you since you came to the door. Need you to fill me like only you can. Please, Michael. Give me your cock. Fill me up. Please!”

He chuckled. And stood. He jerked his cock while never stopping his flicking over your clit. “You need my cock? Here it is. Can’t you see it?”

“Need it in me. Please-“

He curled two fingers into you, nearly making you arch off the bed. “Alright. Since you asked so nicely.” He crawled over you again, sucking your nipple into his mouth. Distracted by his mouth, you jolted again to feel him enter you.

Finally feeling your body drawing him in, Wardlow did his best not to crush you. He panted into your skin. Mouthing across your chest, he muttered, “fuck.” It shocked him how your walls clamped around him, doing their best to not let him go. He kissed you deeply. And swallowed your rising cries as his desperation finally took control. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he inhaled your perfume again. It stuttered his pace, then sped it up.

You held onto him for dear life. Diggin your nails into his back and wrapping your legs around his waist, you did everything you could to draw him closer. All the while also trying to remain conscience long enough to finally feel your pleasure snap. When it did, you cried out his name into his hair. And you kept murmuring his name as he continued thrusting into you.

When he did fill you, it wasn’t your last orgasm of the evening. He kept his promise. The first rays of morning were just filtering in through your windows before he collapsed beside you. Several of the candles had died out, their batteries depleted long before he was satisfied with taking everything he could from your pleasure.

Lips shivering against your skin, he kissed the underside of your jaw. You smoothed your thumb over his cheek.

With a grin, you breathed a laugh. “You didn’t tear off the set. Don’t you like it?”

“Mhmm. But I needed to keep it mostly together. So we can do this again. If you’re willing.”

“Yes. Very.” You pushed at his shoulder till he was on his back. With a sigh, you tossed a leg over his waist and rested your head on his chest.

The sun was high in the sky before either of you woke up. Only for him to dive into enjoying you again.

***

Masterlist

Wrestling/WWE Masterlist

#wardlow x reader #aew x reader #wardlow smut #aew smut #michael wardlow #reader insert

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xenosaurus · 1 month

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im holding the rutatari gently in my hands. where does the story with the three lads take place? like you said theyre the only surviving members of a suicide mission boarding, what happens then? do they have names yet? whats the military conflict thats happening? what happens when Party Boi comes down and how fucked up are his senses by the acid burn? love ur details, the info on them and children and family and biology is great

A quick note on pronouns for rutatarri— most of them use both he/him and they/them, with she/her being used to replace a vocal indicator for those with high social status, such as politicians, harem keepers, generals, and ship captains. They have no gendered pronouns in their language, as they have no gender, but their closest off-planet allies are an intensely matriarchal species, so they follow their cues.

Anyways! Their names are Turarri (damaged ear), Ridei (the little one), and Delri (bro your FACE)! Rutatarri always have an R sound in their names, as it’s purred in different tones to indicate what sort of relationship the speaker has to the person. The purr/rolled R goes on the second R sound in Turarri’s name, which is why it’s spelled that way!

The setting these guys are made for has a species of highly intelligent aliens (what humans call greys, these things 👽) that that have already enslaved one planet, and the Rutatarri are their biggest opponents, having dodged the opening invasion offer of medical advancements because they get SO OFFENDED if you start talking about genetic inheritance. Their suicide missions are against grey science ships, where biological weapons are developed by testing on prisoners of war. It was developed for tabletop gaming, so a scary enemy was called for lmao

Delri has lost an eye and half of their face, so they’re going to have a BAD TIME once they come down. With his nose fucked up, he’s going to struggle with reading pheromone signals, so to humans, it looks like he’s cut out of the “telepathic” connection with his spouses. They’re soldiers, though, so they’re trained in communicating more verbally than is usual between mates, and even a badly injured rutatarri soldier is dangerous. They’re like 8 feet tall.

#original stuff

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idololivine · 2 months

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eiden for the ask meme?

First impression

I had zero expectations going into the game. Didn't even know what characters there were. And then they hit me with one of the most charming protagonists I've ever seen, and I was hooked.

Impression now

Same positive sentiment, but deeper! He's funny and sweet. He means well but fucks up sometimes. He's kind of a judgy bitch but so am I, and he reigns it in for the things his loved ones really care about. He has layers upon layers of abandonment issues. He was (is?) hypersexual in a way that was getting him into a lot of danger and now sex is his way of deepening his connections and healing. Protagonist of all time.

Favorite moment

There's this moment in FG Olivine's R4 where Eiden says he's going to "pop this prayer crystal's cherry" and it's the most insane way to phrase that sentence. Olivine doesn't even acknowledge it. It's so fucking funny.

Idea for a story

There's that t4t top Eiden/bottom Quincy fic I mentioned before...

Also in my long running omegaverse AU, Eiden's original world didn't have a/b/o dynamics and so he's none of the above. Doesn't have pheromones, can't smell pheromones, etc. So in a world of Magical Boysmells that he can't smell... Garu's is the only one he can, because Garu's is due to him being a wolf yokai and not because of omegaverse. I also don't know what would actually happen in the fic though.

Unpopular opinion

bottom Eiden isn't superior and I'm tired of being told otherwise. embrace switch Eiden or die by my hand

no your blorbo is not uniquely deserving of a monogamous romantic relationship with Eiden please google polyamory for me. when you're ready you can also look up relationship anarchy but I know that might be too complicated to understand so no pressure

Favorite relationship

I knooooow I disqualified Olivine before but I disqualified Eiden at the same time for them both being cop out answers. So that means I'm allowed to answer them for each other. That's how this works

Anyway, EiOli. They have this dynamic that's incredibly sweet and affirming and supportive, but crucially - for my arospec ass - it doesn't read like a romance novel. Like, for a lot of the other guys it's very "they're so IN LOVE it's so ROMANTIC they are ROMANTICALLY IN LOVE don't you feel ROMANCED." Romance is an inaccessible emotion to me and if you keep shoving La Romance TM in my face I'll just tune out.

Back to EiOli - they're affectionate and intimate, but in a way that reads more queerplatonic than romantic to me. They support each other, but aren't wholly dependent on each other; Olivine's healing depends mainly on himself, and Eiden has his own shit (mostly) on lock. Also they fuck NASTY. Olivine's h scenes really embody sugar and spice and everything nice.

Runner up though, if we're disqualifying Olivine anyway... EiGaru snuck up on me. I'm a sucker for "choosing to stay" type stuff (oh the arospec fantasy of someone choosing to stay even though I can't love them the "right" way). Though I can't quite wrap my head around EiKaru still, and they're a package deal. Shrugs.

Favorite headcanon

Do headcanons have to be canon compliant? Which understanding of headcanon are we using here...

Trans Eiden with phalloplasty. That's it, that's the headcanon

#my posts #asks #zizz asdf re r o u #nu carnival eiden

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kingsofeverything · 1 year

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Thank you to anyone out there who’s read anything I’ve written, left kudos, commented, or messaged me to chat about anything I’ve written. I appreciate you so much 💛

🟨Remember Me Before You ~294k .E. Desperate to find a new place to live after he comes home to find his boyfriend cheating, Harry moves into a loft with three strangers. A New Girl AU.

🟪Spring Fever ~4K .E. Harry’s finally out of the first trimester. He and Louis celebrate.

🟦As You Wish ~25K .E. Harry wished Louis free, and life hasn’t been the same since. Written for @onedirectionbigbang

🟥Southern Comfort ~5K .E. Girl!Direction. At a lavish engagement party thrown by her fiancé’s family, Louis meets what seems like a millions aunts and uncles and cousins, but only one stands out: Harry Styles, a gorgeous brunette in a red dress who makes Louis blush like she might catch fire. Written for @wankersday.

🟩Uh oh, it’s Magic (when I’m with you) ~7K .E. Everyone Dreams eventually, and everyone’s Dream is different, but all Dreams have one thing in common: They send the Dreamer on a Quest to find their Magic. It’s been months since Louis started his Quest to live as a hermit in a cave in the middle of the woods and he’s not about to let some new guy disturb his hermitage. Written for @1dastroficfest

⬜️Just Pretend ~90k .E. Louis Tomlinson is a divorced dad who doesn’t date. What free time he has, he likes to spend with his teenage daughter, and if he wants to take someone home, he does it when she’s spending the weekend with her mom. Then he meets Harry Styles, another divorced dad with a teenage daughter, who convinces him it’s a good idea to pretend they’re dating to keep their kids happy. Written for @1dsilverfoxfest

🟧honey, honey 100 words .NR. a villanelle style poem and drabble inspired by the song “Daylight” and written for @harryshouseficfest

🟨Late Night Talking ~50k .E. Louis Tomlinson has a new album coming out and a second world tour on the horizon. Promo season gets underway with a stop at Late Night Talking, the late night show hosted by Harry Styles, and Harry Styles just happens to be the man who blew a chance to date Louis a decade ago. Written for the @1dreversebang based on the prompt and gorgeous gifs by @deludedandlostcause

🟦Midnight ~10k .E. “Alphas are for fucking and pheromones,” Louis said during their first conversation, when he was moving into the building and Harry offered to help haul boxes up the stairs. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own groceries.” Louis relented when his Omega friend Zayn intervened and asked if he was also capable of moving his couch by himself. All Harry’d wanted to do was be a good neighbor. Now, here he is, half a year later, balls deep and four months into a no strings attached, sex only situation with the Omega of his dreams. He’s still not sure how it happened.

The rest of my Annual* Writing Self-Evaluation is under the cut:

It's been a weird year for me w/r/t fic writing! I wrote my longest fic so far by very much a lot. It was a labor of love and for most of the 8ish months I was writing it, I was feeling very down about my skills and writing in general, but I was having fun with turning New Girl into a larry fic, so I carried on, and I came out the other side ok I guess?

I modded our yearly @wankersday fest and the @harryshouseficfest despite promising myself I'd only do wankfest, and the stress of it solidified that decision lol. No more modding for me (except wankfest).

I wrote 9 fics this year, the lowest number of fics per year since my first year writing, and I posted my first ever fic in October and still wrote 5 fics that year. 6 of my 9 fics this year were for fests. That's more pressure than I usually like to put on myself, but I survived, and here's what my year looked like:

Number of stories posted this year: 9

Word count posted this year: 490,127

Stories with the most:

Kudos: Remember Me Before You (713)

Comment threads: RMBY (656)

Bookmarks: RMBY (605)

Work you are most proud of (and why):

Remember Me Before You my New Girl AU, more than twice as long as the next longest thing I've written, it's really just a love letter to the show. Posting it as a WIP while I finished the last bit was daunting because it's the first time I've done a WIP that wasn't complete before I started posting, but it was so fun! The comments fueled me and I loved chatting with you guys as it was going. Some of you were already New Girl fans, some hadn't seen the show, some starting watching it because of my fic??? it was an experience!

Work you are least proud of (and why):

Uh oh, it’s Magic (when I’m with you) for the @1dastroficfest. It was tough to get started and I think I tried like 4 different ideas for that prompt (The Hermit tarot card), but then Megan @homosociallyyours was like 'what if you took it very literally' and thankfully that worked! This was the first time I've ever been legitimately worried about meeting a deadline.

A favorite excerpt of your writing:

I'm never any good at picking snippets. I usually ask Nic @louandhazaf to assist, but this is part of a snippet I posted earlier this year, so... this is from Just Pretend, my older, divorced larry meet and decide to fake a relationship for their kids fic for @1dsilverfoxfest

According to his mom, he started flirting at two days old, and he’s only gotten better over the last forty-five years. Harry's had about that long to earn a doctorate in dimples. He wields them as he moves closer, pressing his chest against Louis’ palm and lifting his left hand to cradle Louis’ jaw. Cool despite the heat they’ve borrowed from his body, the touch of Harry's rings sends a shiver down Louis’ spine. His heart beats harder as he leans in.

Louis’s never been a fan of tequila, but the sweet, peppery liquor is hardly perceptible under the taste of lime on Harry's tongue and the swirling, spicy scent of his sweat, deodorant and cologne. Three in the morning is only marginally cooler than midday and after working all night, Louis is damp with sweat and beer and he smells like it. Thankfully, Harry doesn’t seem to mind. He cups the side of Louis’ neck, fingertips toying with the ends of Louis’ silver hair, tickling and sending a thrill through him as he inches closer.

Grabbing hold of Harry's hips, Louis shifts his stance, stepping one foot between Harry's and sliding a hand around to splay across his lower back under the blousy hem of his half-buttoned shirt. Tilting his head, their noses bump, and Harry pulls back, wet lips parted, panting. Louis hardly has time to breathe before Harry guides him into another kiss, holding him so tightly that his forearm presses between Louis’ shoulder blades while his hand cups Louis’ neck.

Hunching over Louis, his other hand tight on his hip, Harry bends him backwards—dipping him as if they were dancing—and Louis gasps into Harry's mouth. Hungrily, Harry sucks kisses over Louis’ jaw, down his neck to the hollow of his throat, dragging plush lips over the rough two-day beard Louis hasn’t bothered to shave before setting Louis back on his feet.

Share or describe a favorite review you received:

i can't pick one. i'm terrible at picking favorites! but i will say that every person who read rmby as a wip and commented as they went, you guys are the real mvps of my 2022 fic experience.

A time when writing was really, really hard:

all year. no joke. and i know it seems stupid to say because i've posted almost half a million words this year, but i struggled to enjoy writing for much of this year. deadlines really fuck with my head, so i'm hoping to avoid those next year

A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

my entire fic for @wankersday in may. it's my first ever time writing girl!direction so i was very nervous and the whole thing surprised me while i was writing it and it continues to surprise me whenever i remember it exists

How did you grow as a writer this year:

idk man. i wrote a kid fic! and i wrote girl!direction. so that's 2 never before things in 2022

How do you hope to grow next year:

tbh i hope to grow in my ability to experience fomo and live with it. i hope to continue to strengthen my ability to say no lol. i'm only planning on writing for wankfest this year, so who knows what'll happen

Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

nic @louandhazaf is always in this spot. she's my #1, my best friend, the other half of my brain, and the only reason i write

Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

doesn't it always? though tbh nothing specific i can think of at the moment

Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

just write. and listen to @roseanddaggerpodcast :D

Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

i am going back to school in january, so fic writing is being bumped way down the list of my priorities for 2023. like i said above, i only plan to write for @wankersday in may, but tbh idk if i'll be able to. Other than that, I’m looking forward to recording @roseanddaggerpodcast

Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

well, i drafted this post weeks ago lol and since then i've been tagged by @larryyouknow @jacaranda-bloom @louistomlionson @allwaswell16 @haztobegood @louandhazaf @chai-hat-tea @larrysballetslippers and i'll also tag

@londonfoginacup @bananaheathen @disgruntledkittenface @fallinglikethis @sadaveniren @jaerie @lululawrence @absoloutenonsense @alwaysxlarrie @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @cyantific @littleroverlouis @onlythebravest and if i tagged you in an answer above, consider yourself tagged here as well

*All answers should be about works published in 2022

#my fic #2022 #year in review

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certified-anakinfucker · 1 year

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i love how in stories theres always gonna be that one guy who randomly shows up and says hes here to help. but then shit inexplicably goes wrong when hes around, or we catch him going behind our back. and he happens to be a member of a species that literally secretes pheromones to specifically fuck w people and get their way. AND HE GETS CALLED OUT ABOUT IT.

i know we arent supposed to trust you but darth rivix if youre out there ans youre reading this i got your back baby ill defend you til my last breath i know youre up to literally NO good but i love you anyway youre my darth in shining armor ilysm

#i need a swtor tag #shooters for darth rivix can i get a hell yeah #[ cheeri is forcibly removed from the swtor niche due to rivixfucking ]#cheeri prattles on #do NOT say he looks like lord farquaad

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not-poignant · 11 months

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Idk if anyone has asked this before but I just was wondering... when it comes to Gary & Efnisien being intimate with eachother... would Gary call Efnisien (or any alpha Gary would be with) "Alpha" ? Like in dirty talk...

I'm so sorry if this was too much 🫣

Hi anon!

So... so one of the benefits of me writing my own omegaverse is that I don't have to do the things I really don't like that are tropes in omegaverse, and I am so so sorry, but that includes anyone saying 'alpha' instead of just saying a person's name, because it feels super dehumanising whenever I see it, and I can't see a way to make it happen and not feel gross while writing it.

So the reason it won't happen is not necessarily because these characters wouldn't do it, but because I find it super squicky, and it's one of the things that makes me skip omegaverse sex scenes (there are literally omegaverse books I find totally unreadable because of this - depending on how quickly an omega no longer recognises their alpha as anything other than pheromones and a cock and completely dehumanises them in the process. It's just... I write plenty of kinks I don't share, but I can't write the kinks I actively loathe).

I am happy for other folks to like copy a version of the sex scene/s for themselves and take out Efnisien's name in a document and put in 'Alpha' instead if they'll find it hotter, and save that on their computer / phone / wherever to read in the future. I just can't personally make myself do it, and I can't write a world where this would happen.

Gary's never called a single one of his alpha partners 'Alpha' in the moment, as dirty talk, unless he's saying whole sentences like: 'I do rather enjoy taking down an alpha like yourself' - which is quite different to the way it's written in omegaverse stories.

So yeah, I apologise, I can't stand the whole... 'we say alpha / omega as dirty talk' thing, to me it's as weird as making love to a guy and saying 'Male, oh Male, Male you are so hot. Male you are really hot.' God, I'm just imagining a world where folks say 'Oh Nonbinary, Nonbinary you are so hot, Nonbinary I want you inside me' and I don't want to live in that world and I'm glad I don't have to write that kind of world, as a nonbinary person, I'd really someone just use endearments and not the flat statement of my gender lmao.

To me it's like... actually just the opposite of dirty talk x.x

#asks and answers #underline the black #underline the rainbow #unconventional omegaverse #look i went to tag this into mainstream omegaverse and then was like hold up #i don't want to get any hate #i know i'm on the fringe for like actively loathing it #anon i hate it even more than mpreg #and i don't plan on writing that either dslkfjasd #i have pretty strong feelings about the whole 'alpha as dirty talk' thing #like 'i want to throw up' feelings dsfaflkjsda #anyway if you want to see it #please copy/paste those chapters and just delete a few Efnisien's and add 'alpha' instead lkasdjfsalfdsa

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 4 months

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1. 2. 4. 8. 10. 11. 14. 17. 32. 33. 46.

This or that?

3. 6. 10. 16. 21.

For people with vaginas

1. 4.

ILYSM! This is so many questions I’m so sorry!!!

Hiii baby🤭

1 - What are the ideal nudes that someone could send you? With girls seriously I’m such a fucking simp if you send me a picture of your thigh or some side boob I’m gonna go crazy. But ideal I love ass pics omfg, tiddy pics too. Like a tiddy pic but your hand covering your nipples? So hot. For guys? Send me a video of you busting a nut or of you pulling your boxers down and your cock popping out or keep itttt.

2 - Have you ever humped a pillow until you came? Would you? Yes, not since I was like way younger but I definitely have lol. Would I now? Yes, preferably with someone watching me and saying shit like “oh look how pathetic you are, you’re so desperate you’re gonna cum just from humping your little pillow?” Phew whoa, new fantasy unlocked. Did I just come up with a fic idea rn?

4 - Genie granted you three NSFW wishes. What are you wishing for?

• I’m definitely gonna have to jump on that Steddie threesome train.

• Also I’m agreeing with you on having a girl sit on my face while I get railed… (you, me, & Eddie when?)

•VAMPIRE SEX I WANNA FUCK I VAMPIRE AND GET MY BLOOD DRANK IDC!!!

8 - Something you never did in bed and would love to do? I wanna squirt so bad but I just can’t idk how? One day I will I’m determined.

14 - What kink/fantasy of yours are you the most embarrassed about? Why? Hmmm I’m not necessarily embarrassed but I know a lot of people are as into pet play but god I wanna be someone’s lil pet so bad. Or even like slave idc. Just put me in a cage honestly. Ownership kink is craaazy.

17 - What body part would you worship on other people to the end of time because NGHHHH? On guys? Handssss just ugh, I love hands. Girls though? Thighs, ass, tummy. Literally in the whole entire body an option?

32 - What is your most unusual turn on? Honestly when people info dump about things they love it’s so cute/hot to me. Like I just want to tackle them and make out with them and fuck them and let them still talk about it.

33 - Do you have some songs you wanna get railed to? Listen… getting railed to deftones? Life changing. Getting railed to the QOTD soundtrack? Mind altering.

46 - What scent you find arousing? Oooh with girls I really like sweet scents, but also if you smell like essential oils and like you’re gonna know my life story based on my astrology chart? That’s hot too. With men I like more musky scents. Honestly overall though? I’m gross and I like the scent of peoples natural musk/pheromones.

This or that?

Ropes or Cuffs? I’ve never used ropes before, so I’ll say cuffs since I’ve used them and liked them. I’d like to try ropes though.👀

Creampie or Throatpie? CREAMPIE ALLLL THE WAAAAY!! I’m getting my tubes removed on Thursday and I can’t wait to get FILLEDDD y’all.😩

Forever watch porn or Forever read porn? Definitely read, all the way. Or listen to it. Audioporn is 😩🫨

Multiple orgasms vs Orgasm denial? Fuuuck I’m gonna say multiple bc I love overstimulation like hold me tf down and make me cum again.

Bites vs Slaps? Bites for sure, I love biting omfg. But I love some good slaps don’t get me wrong.

Questions for vagina owners

Do you like your clit touched? How is it best? Yes fuuuck I love it, I like having it sucked but if I’m getting it rubbed I like it wet and kinda light but quick. Idk if that makes sense LMAO.

What’s the nicest compliment you ever got about your vagina? What you think should be complimented on it? That it’s pretty, that it’s the tightest they’ve ever fucked. She’s cute or whateva we Stan her.

#Tori💋#ask game #mooties ♡#Dolly’s asks

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pink-heart-jam · 1 month

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BL Recs - Office Romance

Anyone else loves a hot inappropriate office romance? 🌝 I’ve been exploring this genre in manga/manhwa for a while and have found so many gems! This trope usually walks hand in hand with light humour, flirty banter, enemies to lovers and cute slice-of-life (not to mention the sexy a/b/o dynamics!) which I absolutely love. These are all light and fun comfort reads, perfect choices as a palate cleanser between heavier, angsty stories. Here are some personal favourites - I hope you enjoy them!

Ameiro Paradox by Natsume Isaku

A change in the stakeout team throws Onoe, reporter for a weekly magazine, together with his contemporary, Kaburagi, a photographer. Onoe secretly considers Kaburagi his rival, and Kaburagi's haphazard way of doing things goes against Onoe's strong sense of ethics--there's nothing but conflict between them. But, in joint pursuit of a scandal, the two of them begin to care about each other...?

Beta Off Not Dating by Mintran, Saena, Doojja

Juhyeok is a clueless beta who is thrust into the messy world of alpha-omega dynamics when he leaves his wholesome beta college to work at a more diverse company. There, a full-on fistfight and loud makeup. Repulsed by the pheromones that trump common sense in this crazy environment, Juhyeok swears himself off dating until he saves up enough money to move to a faraway haven for betas.

Day Off by Qing Cai

Sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, and always relaxing, this is a fluffy office romance about a powerful yet gentle superior (who’s occasionally a picky eater) and his cute and earnest subordinate (who’s a silly young Gemini).

Doushitemo Furetakunai by Yoneda Kou

On his very first day at a brand-new job, shy Shima is trapped in the elevator with a hungover mess of a guy…who turns out to be his boss. Togawa’s prickly exterior definitely puts the rookie recruit on-edge, but it doesn’t take long before Shima’s every waking thought is invaded by his overbearing yet totally thoughtful superior.

It’s Not Like That by Gangto, Lime

Under pressure from his unimpressed parents, BL writer Lim Iro is forced into applying for a “real” job. But instead of a cover letter, he accidentally submits an unreleased extract from his book instead. Disaster! Or maybe not…? Faced with Iro’s unconventional application, Baek Ho-ryung, the dashing CEO of Beus drinks company, is intrigued.

On or Off by A1

Yiyoung is building a startup with his college friends. They get a chance to present their proposal to SJ Corporation, one of the leading companies in the country. But in the meeting room he sees Kang Daehyung, the extremely handsome company big shot that's very much his type.

Perfect Buddy by Lash, Daki

Seo Hyunsoo is sure of one thing: people are scum and they will always disappoint you. Sure enough, at his very first company dinner after his transfer to a new department, he finds his coworker, the obnoxiously upbeat Baek Youngchan, performing an unsavory deed in the men's bathroom. As much as Hyunsoo would like to avoid Youngchan from that point on, Youngchan seems intent on not letting him out of his sight...

Punch Drunk Love by Moscareto

Park Sunwoo, who prefers a pair of thick glasses and an awkward-fitting suit, is an employee of DM Electronics' Financial Accounting Team. While secretly spying on his unrequited love as usual, he finds out that Jung Taemoon enjoys promiscuous and rough one-night sex.

The New Recruit by Moscareto & Zec

After spending his 20s getting over a crush, Seunghyun vowed to never give his heart to someone in the same field again. Enter Jongchan, Seunghyun's tough new boss with a surprising soft side.

You Get Me Going by Moscareto, Oh doyeon

Despite being thirty-three, Young-won sure is gullible. He falls in love way too easily, comes on way too hard, and still believes that he’ll meet “Mr. Right” sooner or later. Not that he knows who “Mr. Right” is, but he sure does know about “Mr. Wrong,” a.k.a. Kang Hyun-woo. Young-won swears that he’ll never, ever get together with this polar opposite of his, but the universe sure seems to think different.

#bl recs #BL manhwa #office romance

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sir-klauz · 1 year

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Reading list for this month!

(Rb or like if you decide to read one of these titles after seeing this, I love knowing if I’ve inspired anyone to read things I have! It’s fun)

Pond Snail Robber

“The delightful and brutal life of living with a robber! Ji Ho ends up missing the deadline to apply for a dorm due to a slip of carelessness but luckily a sunbae from his major helps him get a room nearby. Unfortunately, not even half a day after moving in he gets attacked by a robber. After managing to get away, Ji Ho later comes back home to see the robber shedding tears over the novel he wrote in high school...But this robber, with the reason of wanting to continue reading his unfinished novel, asks to live with him in exchange for taking care of the house?! The sweet and fierce life of these two has started!”

(I wouldn’t say the description is totally great at describing what’s actually happening but it’s good at hiding spoilers of what the actual circumstances ended up being and it’s kinda a funny joke about the “robber” part once you read it. Also, it has the cutest unique font design ever, a snail!”)

Boyfriends.

“Want a boyfriend? How about 4?! Meet Prep, Jock, Goth and Nerd -four boys with a lot of love to share!

A comic about getting yourself a boyfriend... or multiple boyfriends! Four college students begin a polyamorous relationship and navigate the adventure that is their dating life!”

(I freaking love this, it’s really smooth and fun, and wholesome. As someone who’s poly you don’t get a lot of kind depictions of poly relationships, or there’s only threesome, foursome, or more being writing about for kinks or open relationships that aren’t poly or about polycules. The graphics are great on the eyes with lots of pastels, and each character has their fun personalities, not to mention actually including a trans guy within a gay relationship! It’s grand. 10/10 love Goth or wanna be Goth ahaa. Nerd is too adorable. Really recommend.)

Minmotion Syndrome

"The 600 million that was left to you, I’ll pay it off for you." Seo Taeyoon, who was dragged into the situation because of his father's debt, got angry and sneers at Park Jaein for being an omega after the latter made a sarcastic remark. Although Taeyoon detected Jaein's faint pheromone scent, he was able to identify him as an Omega. Jaein found Taeyoon interesting, as nobody else can really detect his smell, so he offered to pay off his debt in exchange for buying him...! Thus, Taeyoon now wears a leash designed for dogs. How would their dangerous relationship begin and end?”

(So this whole thing is so tongue in cheek so far, and absolutely not digestible for everyone, though I’m only at chapter 9. but the art, is phenomenal and I adore the styles for both characters. And well, it’s nice to see omegas which are characters designed to always submit and be mindless totally being the top dog. I like it when things don’t fit into boxes, it’s kinda like in any nsfw circumstances where someone typically assumed as having to be subservient, isn’t, because it’s not as cut and dry as that nor has to for, for instant when people are like big macho bois can’t “bottom”… if you catch my drift.~ Park Jaein is pretty mentally whomped aha, his “crazy eyes” are spooky hot. I’m so bad. Taeyoon is an omega hating alpha son of a poor drug addicted male omega SW (adult worker). It goes into their stories about why they’re the way they are, and I guess I’m hoping it works out and they don’t hate each other anymore.)

The Pizza Delivery Man and The Gold Palace

“Woowon has spent his entire life repaying debts with his mother as a result of his father's irrational business investments and gambling. When his mother falls unwell, she retreats to the countryside, where she struggles by herself. One day, Woowon is fired from his part-time job, and while searching for a new job, he is introduced to one as a delivery man at a pizza shop in a wealthy area by a friend. Not only was the food delicious, but the staff was also known for being attractive. Woowon, who had a dashing appearance, goes to an interview and immediately passes. Seo-an has spent his entire life being swayed by his father's greed, who would not tolerate even the smallest flaw. That was how he lived, chewing at himself with bursting panic and constant avoidance of people. One day, everything came to a halt and Seo-an locked himself up at home. Then, a person who had done him a tiny favor appeared. After a long time, he was no longer afraid of others. A young love story in which two people who are tired of life fall in love.”

Lover Boy (Jeky)

(I really adore the art here and that a moan character is an artist, it’s a trialing story for both of them!)

Ongoing reading list still reading from month prior:

What's with this strange dream?!

“Jungoh was just expecting to take on a part-time job as an assistant. What he didn’t expect was working inside people’s dreams with a cute, but grumpy shaman named Ibeom. And he certainly didn’t expect Ibeom to be cursed by a nightmare seedling!”

(Sorry I had to use this image, it’s hilarious.)

Night by the sea

“Kim Euihyun, who had given up everything due to reaching his limits, ran towards the sea with a child in his arms and was caught by an alpha, Yeo Taejoo. Euihyun, who is left with only debt by his father running away, was given money, a house, by Taejoo and even a job if he gives his body..."

Intoxicated

“Omega Shen Tingwei wakes up after a traffic accident and soon realizes something is very wrong. The people around him have no idea what an omega is, the local pharmacy doesn't carry his heat suppressants, and no one - including the doctor at the nearest hospital - seems to understand the reason he is feverish is because he's going into heat. Enter Lian Jue, a wealthy man with Emotional Deprivation Disorder who is struggling to balance running his company, appeasing his difficult family, and caring for his adopted son, Kangtong. When he encounters the heat-drunk Shen Tingwei staggering around the city and saves him from getting hit by yet another vehicle, the two men soon become entangled in each other's lives. Shen Tingwei is lost and helpless in a world not his own, and Lian Jue can't help but be drawn to the unusual stranger...”

“Shen lived in a place as a lawyer where there are three gender known: alpha, beta and omega however an incident caused him to be transported in a society where there are only two gender recognized: male and female.”

Is there a love at first sight in e-sport

“The Asian champion is free to take the girl to score points in the game. Finally, he brings a girl to Kaimai but finds that the other party is a boy. Mr. Champion left behind the online dating that ended before it started. When he went to train with the club, he accidentally had a little friction with another team. When the opponent's deputy captain showed up, Mr. Champion was instantly tempted to doubt life. When the opponent spoke, it was the "girl" he personally brought that day. Is there love at first sight in e-sports? Exists.”

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hornystorage · 5 months

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Choose your own S.A.D. suit

[Originally posted by rubberpupthoughts. Re-posted for archival purposes.]

This post is a short choose-your-own-adventure story. Read the intro and skip ahead to the section you choose. And remember, I’m looking for photos to post with my stories. Send me some photos of YOU if you want to be featured (anonymously, or otherwise).

────────────────────────────────────

Your phone lights up with this message: Ready for Valentine’s Day? Tell your followers about the lucky guy you’ll be spending the day with.

[Yes! I have a date.]

[No. I’m single.]

You select the second option. A new message pops up: We can fix that! Answer this question and we’ll hook you up with your dream date. Describe yourself:

[A total stud. The envy of the locker room.] [A kid at heart. Loves to be a spoiled.] [A puppy dog. Adventurous and loyal.]

────────────────────────────────────

A total stud.

You press the button with a smirk. Of course you’re a stud. Anyone who’s seen your cock knows. Even now it feels tight in your pants. You reach down to adjust your bulge and feel something hard. Hard like plastic. You look down your gym shorts to see you’re wearing a jockstrap you hadn’t put on. How did that get there?

A wave of strong musk wafts up from the cup, even though you know you showered just this morning. You try to run your thumb under the waistband, but the black mesh athletic cup won’t budge. It seems to be fused with your crotch, as solid as any other part of your body.

Your phone buzzes with a new message. Welcome to the Single’s Awareness Day (S.A.D.) program, stud. Your S.A.D. suit has been activated. The jockstrap model will deny you the ability to touch your cock. It also enhances your pheromones to attract dominant men. Once per week, you will be permitted orgasm if you meet the following conditions: You wear nothing but the jockstrap in at least three (3) different gym locker rooms for two (2) hours each. You give blowjobs to at least seven (7) different men. You get fucked by at least seven (7) different men. You smell at least a dozen men’s dirty underwear.

Your enrollment in this program will continue until a man you’ve met in a locker room claims you, at which point the suit’s settings will be controlled by him.

────────────────────────────────────

A kid at heart.

As you press this button, you feel your pants get warm. And wet. You just wet yourself! You curse and wiggle your way out of your pants. How could this happen? As you peel your wet underwear off, the sight of your cock confuses you. You shave from time to time, but now your crotch is perfectly smooth. And your dick looks smaller.

The doorbell rings.

You stumble into a new pair of pants and answer the door. No one is there, but there’s a large package addressed to you. You bring it in and open it up. Inside are several neat square bundles with labels: Little Pawz. Space. BareBum. They’re diapers.

Your phone buzzes with a new message: Welcome to the Single’s Awareness Day (S.A.D.) program, boy. Your S.A.D. suit has been activated. Unlike other models, the diaper boy configuration has no physical presence. Instead, the suit will prevent you from controlling your bladder, or achieving self-pleasure. An order a diapers has been delivered to your address for your convenience. Please open the “starter pack” now.

You look for the pack in the box and see a single wrapped diaper. When you rip open the plastic, it lets out a puff of white powder. You choke on the flowery scent. Baby powder! By the time your vision clears, you notice the diaper in your hands is gone. It’s wrapped around your butt.

Your phone buzzes again: Starter diaper successfully installed. The S.A.D. suit will prevent you from removing your diapers. You will be assigned a new daddy each week to assist you with changes. Additionally, the daddy may give you an orgasm at his discretion. We recommend you obey commands from your daddies, if you want to be rewarded.

Your enrollment in this program will continue until a daddy claims you full-time, at which point the suit setting will be controlled by him.

You stare blankly at the message, unsure what to do. You notice the warm sensation around your groin again. The diaper swells.

────────────────────────────────────

A puppy dog.

You press the button and feel something firm around your neck. You feel a thick leather strap, a cold steel buckled, and a D-ring with dog tags that jingle. A collar! You fidget with the buckle for a couple minutes, but can’t find a way to remove it. You try to curse. But instead you hear “Woof!”

Ruff?

Your phone buzzes with a new message: Welcome to the Single’s Awareness Day (S.A.D.) program, pup. Your S.A.D. suit has been activated. In addition to converting your speech, the pup model will ensure you obey the orders of your owner. A new owner will be assigned to you each week. Before you are presented to your owner, he will send you a package of the gear you will wear for the week.

The doorbell rings, and you bark. Shit. You pull at the collar as you go to the door. You find a package addressed to you. You bring it inside and open it up. The package contains a steel chastity belt. A full rubber suit. Rubber mitts. And a rubber butt plug with a puppy tail.

You think to say “I’m not wearing this!” But you growl instead. When your collar shocks you, you yelp.

Your phone buzzes: You must obey your owner’s commands. After you are geared up, handler will arrive to secure you in a kennel. Then you will be transported to your first owner. Your enrollment in this program will end when an owner claims you full-time.

You whine and reach for the rubber gear.

────────────────────────────────────

Thanks for reading! Message me what scenario you chose, and if you enjoyed your fate.

#chs: written #chs: story #chs: a favourite #CHS: rubberpupthoughts

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thematchmakeramethyst · 1 year

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Frisk Hart Clips #63

[The Rainbow Kids are walking into Monster Town after going into the Underground.]

Yellow: Despite our encounters with the Underground in the past, I think I’m getting used to the frequent visits for aiding the Monsters.

Blue: Those Slimes know how to clean the Waterfall instantly and keep the Underground clean.

Green: If humanity had a slime in their house, the grim in bathrooms and kitchens won’t be a problem anymore.

Purple: (writes down in his notebook) Oh, yeah. That is every cleaner, maid, butler, janitor, and housewife’s dream. But then it would leave the bankruptcy to the clean product companies.

Orange: Not to the ones we need to wash our hands, hair, and bodies.

Purple: Good point.

[At Monster Town’s Square, the Monster Family welcomes back the Rainbow Kids with smiles and waves.]

Asriel: Hi, guys. How was the trip to the Waterfall?

Flowey: (smirked) You know? I know a couple of Echo Flower babes at the Waterfall. They can’t get enough of my pheromones.

Chara: (annoyed while the Six rolled their eyes and Frisk smiled) You are disgusting, Flowey. You better not traumatize us with your “Flower Gal Interaction” stories.

Flowey: (smiled) Now that you mentioned, there was this time when I moved into the greenhouse, I met this cutie called Lan the Lotus. She doesn’t talk too much, but-

Chara: (yelled) SHUT UP!!!

Toriel: Chara, languagege!

Chara: Yes, Mom.

Sans: By the way, Cyan, who’s your friend?

Cyan: (confused) Friend?

Papyrus: Did you bring a baby smile back from the Waterfall?

Rainbow Kids: (confused) Eh?

[The Rainbow Kids turned around and looked down to see a baby cyan slime happily muffling and moving around like the mushroom in the Castle of Illusion 2013 remake.]

Frisk: Huh? How long has it been following us?

Cyan: I recognize this slime. Poor cutie had difficulty reaching the garbage to eat, so I gave it plenty.

Orange: (the baby slime jumps and down happily) Well, it seems to have taken a shine to you, Cyan. (the slime then jumps into Cyan’s arms and snuggles her) Very much.

Alphys: Hmmm…I think it wants to form a contract.

Blue: (confused) Contract?

Purple: (excited) As in wanting to become Cyan’s familiar?! Those animes and mangas were ahead of their time again!

Green: Humans and Monsters did that before?

Alphys: During ancient times, Humans would contract with Monsters to create good partnerships during the Monster and Human War. But since it’s been years, no one knows if it’s possible to make it, and it’s no longer required since you can quickly develop friendships now.

Cyan: My Dad doesn’t allow me to have a pet, but he never mentioned having a familiar.

Yellow: You want to try it, Cyan?

Cyan: (pets the baby slime) Judging how sweet it is, I can’t say no to something so precious.

Undyne: From what I read about the Human and Monster Contract, it says you need to recite a spell and have both foreheads touch.

Alphys: (takes out a book) Luckily, I check out this book on the spell. Since it's written in Latin, I’ll read it for you. Okay, have your foreheads touch.

[When Cyan and the baby slime’s foreheads, a cyan-blue light circles beneath them as yellow light illuminates where the foreheads touch. Soon, water surrounds the pair, leaving everyone amazed at what they’re seeing.]

Frisk: (starry-eye and records with her phone) Friendship is magical.

Alphys: (hand opened before the pair) Mentibus in unum coalescant animis. (With minds becoming one, may their souls connect.)

Vinculum cum cordis effectu. (A bond with heartfelt effect.)

Magia componitur et aeternaliter communicatur. (Magic combined and eternally shared.)

Firma autem fidelitate hec contractus declaretur. (Now, by strong loyalty, may this contract be declared.)

[Soon, the water formed a blonde teardrop mark on the baby slime’s forehead, and a cyan teardrop mark formed on Cyan’s right palm. The water and a light circle disappeared in a gust of wind. At Madame Meh’s shop, she sits on the porch and has tea.]

Madam Meh: (the wind blew onto her face, which surprised her, but she smiled) After all these years, someone formed a Human and Monster pact. And who would guess that my darling apprentice in clairvoyant, Clara-Lynn Prior, would be the first…but me. Hehehe…

[Back at Monster Town, everyone was amazed.]

Cyan: (holding the baby slime) Did it work?

Chara: Water clear it did. Check your hand and your partner’s forehead.

Cyan: (by looking at her hand and her familiar) No joke. What should I name it?

Frisk: (smiled) I got some name ideas! Slimera, Slimador, Slimyia, Slimore.

Cyan: I’ll go with the first one. My baby slime will be forever named Slimera. (Slimera goes on top of Cyan’s head in glee) I can tell she loves it.

Alphys: (hands Cyan a book) You might need this book on Slimes to get to know your familiar.

Purple: (biting on a napkin) I’m so jealous. I hope I get a familiar in the future.

Asgore: To find the right familiar, you must gain its trust and share the same magical association. Cyan and Slimera are both associated with water. Although in the past, no one ever had got a brilliant Monster to form a contract, they can communicate as we do.

Purple: So, for me to get one, I need my familiar to be associated with clouds, snow, or ice.

Orange: Mine has to be with fire.

Blue: I do space magic, so will there be a familiar that can associate with that?

Green: Probably something alien, planet, star, sun, moon, or any other outer space. As for me, I can do plants and earth, and it is possible to encounter such a creature.

Yellow: I can do wind and electricity. Is there a familiar that can get for both?

Frisk and Chara: (look at each other in worry before pointing to each other) What about us?

Toriel: Hmm…True. You don’t have elemental magic.

Chara: So does Blue!

Undyne: Actually, there’s an element of space called ether. So, it is.

Chara: Darn!

Sans: Maybe you need a familiar who is dark as your Soul. Hehehehe…

Chara: Not funny!

Papyrus: No, wait. Sans might be on to something.

Sans: I am?

Chara: He is?

Alphys: The Skeleton Brothers are correct. Darkness and Light are part of the elements. Frisk would get a familiar with light magic, and Chara could get a Darkness familiar.

Frisk: (smiled) That sounds right.

Chara: Future familiars, we’ll be waiting for you.

#tswfby #frisk #chara #six_souls_undertale #asriel #flowey #asgore #toriel #sans #papyrus #undyne #alphys #undertale

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whalyrae · 1 year

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OK NEW STORY INCOMING EVERYTHING IS READY I JUST NEED TO READ ONE MORE TIME !!!!!!!!!

And I almost finished The old guard chapter 2, I'll update it as soon as I'm done with it!!

A little sneak peek maybe ? :))

“Let me know when it's over,” you'd pointed your phone before putting it in your pocket, “it's not that I don't want to be smothered in your alpha pheromones and... hear you guys doing whatever it is you're doing to relieve yourself but... I really don't.”

Your ironic tone and grimace made them laugh. You gave Jimin a final hug and greeted the other alphas before leaving the apartment.

Mating season, yes. You were a beta, you had nothing to do with it. You should have stayed with your parents. The house they lived in was big enough for you to avoid them and your brother and sister. You would stay in her room, work on new choreographies, you had even taken with you some books that Namjoon had recommended. In short, you had plenty to do.

You were just a beta. What could go wrong ?

#rorythme #rory's update #rory's writing #bts #bangtan #sneak peek #fanfiction #omegaverse #english #bts x reader #I have this story in my drafts since months/years it's time #bangtan x reader

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