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darlingpwease · 9 months

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Omega SHI MEI AS A YANDERE imagine alpha reader reject him but is in love with omega Chu wanning

in the rain without an umbrella

♡ unhealthy behaviour, animalistic behaviour, forced relationship elements, mild power imbalance, unrequited love if you squint, reincarnation themes if you squint; op!reader implied

ωαβ Perhaps you used to be interested in Chu Wanning, — after all, even if he was a beta, he was a beautiful and smart beta, despite the cold and austerity, almost asceticism that surrounded his strong but thin figure, never giving any sweetness or softness, but more like the snow-capped peaks of high mountains, which are not everyone can climb, — but that was in the past.

You haven't been really interested in him in this way for a long time, it was just a puppy crush that you took for 'falling in love'; it's typical for young ones to fall in love with older and mature ones, and the fact that you were attracted to such a beta, causing a desire to take care of his house and reach out to him in an effort to take care even when Chu Wanning time after time tries to convince (not in words — you can see it in his behavior) you not to do this, but you see how his dark eyes shine for a moment or how his hands tremble slightly whenever you are affectionate, only emphasizes this fact, even if he closes again later.

You just felt sympathy for the strong and inaccessible beta, as for your 'white moonlight', but it was obviously doomed and frivolous from the very beginning. After all, it would be weird to love someone just because... well... you don't remember why you loved him, but doesn't that mean it didn't have any meaning or importance? If you really loved, you would not forget why you experienced this feeling, and what features in him made your heart beat louder.

Unlike SHI MEI.

SHI MEI was kind, beautiful and gentle. Of course, you weren't going to say things like he was "much nicer" or "kinder" than Chu Wanning, they are completely different and not similar from the very beginning, comparing them is like comparing a flower with a mountain in an attempt to understand what is better, — but if people asked for your opinion, the 'flower' was definitely better. Flexible, soft, handsome, with an eye-pleasing face, tender eyes, red lips and cool skin, he was like a member of the merfolk tribe from old legends, and the fact that his smell made you slightly dizzy only fascinated you even more.

His beauty was innocent, pure, as fragile and eye-catching as a butterfly — and SHI MEI was as ignorant of it as a butterfly, not seeing how breathtaking its painted wings are. He had a thin wrist that you could easily grasp, a swan-like flexible neck, eyes like two smooth surfaces of a deep lake in the moonlight, spring flowers gently blooming on his cheeks and a leisurely smooth gait, as if he was trying to escape from the whole hostile world, but tried to restrain himself so that no one would notice.

But you noticed.

And when your hand takes the cool, narrow palm of an omega, feeling a shiver run through your body, while SHI MEI shyly smiles lovingly, bowing his head, you have nothing to say. It is as beautiful as the first spring flowers, making their way through tiny green buds on bare trees, not yet ripe, but fighting for the right to bloom, not realizing that even this will not guarantee their longevity, but the approach of death.

There's no way you're going to let him die.

“Shixiong, I...”

But for some reason the words still can't be pronounced.

“... I will always protect you.”

... You are sure that the omega's face changed for a moment, but when you returned your gaze, there was still the same timid smile and soft shy look, like a gentle maiden, to whom you decided to stretch out your hand, like a wild uncouth boor, capable only of trying to talk like some lower demonic spirit, — but you still do not let yourself miss the moment, gently placing your hand on his waist— and immediately receiving an almost chaste, exciting touch of scarlet lips to your cheek, which leaves a strange tingling sensation while SHI MEI hurriedly walks forward, but you see that even his neck is red.

If he's not destined to be your omega, then who is?

ωαβ SHI MEI does not need any search for reasons 'that could explain everything and show how his actions are ambiguous and not necessarily negative', and he also does not need any 'forgiveness' or 'justification' — the end justifies the means, he tells himself, carefully opening the door to your room and cannot resist a deep inhale, feeling your magnificent smell.

If he had his way, he would have already snuggled up to you and rubbed against you, erasing all those smells that Chu Wanning and others left on you, briefly biting your skin until it becomes obvious that you are his his his — but can only smile sweetly, noticing your gaze, attracted for a moment by the intensified aroma of aggressive omegas, and carefully sit down next to you, bringing some light snacks.

After all, you were sick, and SHI MEI, although he was not the best healer, only wanted to help you.

Of course, you want to convince him that you will be fine — after all, even if you are not an omega, you will not die from what happened, your regenerating factor is more than strong, — but SHI MEI just shakes head, not taking gaze off you intently, as if you have become a puppy who refuses to take the medications necessary for recovery; his thin gently fingers rest on palm when he bends slightly, giving you a soft, delicate fragrance of something very fragile and fleeting, while he purrs to let you let him, he worries about you, and if he can't be with you every minute, then why can't he at least take care of you like that? You're close friends, aren't you?

... Are you pushing him away because he's an omega?

He knows that he is not the strongest or the most capable, but he also wants to take care of you and be useful. Can't he?... Of course, a weak omega like him probably does not make you feel secure, he is not at all like the shizun that you admire and love so much, but he, too, can help. Will you let him? Will you let him do it?

Even if he is so useless and pathetic, unable to do anything but heal, he also wants you to benefit from him; so that you know that if something happens, he can cure you, and that he will always be there to help you. Is it bad? Does that make him bad? Is it his fault that this is the only thing he can do — but it seems that even in this he cannot be useful to you.

He just wants to help!

... When the incense starts working and SHI MEI holds hand on your chest, watching you doze off, he can't help but exhale with relief, even knowing that this is only half the way. If you had refused, the whole plan would have gone to ruin, — not that he could have forced you, — but he was just lucky that you were such an emotionally sensitive alpha. Perhaps that is why you coincided so well with Chu Wanning, seeing something beautiful and timid, like the first shoots, behind his metal armor, and continued to stand without leaving even when faced with pressure, resisting any destructive and skeptical behavior, wanting to see the answer to every question asked, like a bamboo shoot or a willow tree that bends under the force of bad weather but does not break and does not leave.

But it doesn't matter now.

He knows that you will not accept his feelings.

He was not a naive idiot or a desperate idealist — even if neither you nor shizun saw anything, SHI MEI knew what was behind all these 'under-courtship' and the fact that shizun constantly left his 'smell' on you or sniffed at you, although, obviously, he did not tolerate anyone's touches and smells, like a true beta, and was very sensitive to other people's scents, especially alpha scents.

SHI MEI knew that Chu Wanning was also an omega, but he doubted that anyone else had seen it except perhaps the head of the sect. And that Xue Meng was not an alpha, but an alpha-like beta, he also knew; even when Xue Meng reacted strangely to your smell, without showing any attempts at an obvious struggle for dominance, clearly softened by your concern for his emotions, but at the same time fought with Mo Ran — a typical alpha — like alpha. That was why he realized that Chu Wanning was not a beta.

Chu Wanning, without realizing it, was looking at you the same way SHI MEI is looking at you — and SHI MEI, sitting here, carefully chastely unbuttoning your shirt, without throwing an extra glance at your skin, he will prefer to look at it when you yourself give consent in the future, understands perfectly well that he and Chu Wanning are too similar.

He didn't want to rush things, but he wasn't going to even potentially give anyone a chance — and the sight of how you and shizun got along too well provoked rage and jealousy.

... The flower does not grow without suitable soil — his hands tremble when he gently strokes your skin, but SHI MEI believes that everything will be fine. A flower needs time before it starts to grow, but with a piece of his soul and no one knowing what has just happened, it will be easy. He just needs to wait a bit. Your eyelashes are trembling, but he gently strokes your hair, intertwining your fingers with his, staying close. Now he will always be there.

Now you're not going anywhere.

ωαβ You purr so affectionately when SHI MEI gently rubs against your neck, leaving his scent in a possessively charming gesture.

Smiling lovingly, hugging your omega, you can't help but feel so happy that if you had a tail, you would wag it with delight — even if you are sure that he would do exactly the same. Your sweet and shy SHI MEI. Your fragile, elegant, beautiful SHI MEI. With a white cape, straight shiny black hair, glowing eyes and blooming sensual features, as if his whole appearance was like a blooming flower, — definitely dangerous, but so alluring, — but if it was SHI MEI, then you would even eat poison from his hands.

You love SHI MEI, you really love SHI MEI, even if he is so possessive and clingy, not loving when there is anyone around you and hating other people's smells on you — but you are completely fine with that, letting him cling to your side; after all, he is so adorable that you there's really nothing to do but accept and understand, gently teasing your sweet moody omega when his cold fingers slide over your chest again, laying head on your shoulder, closing eyes, purring.

SHI MEI is fragile and refined, with a beautiful thin waist and full of venomously enchanting charm, as if acting as an example of the words 'beauty can only be demonic' — but your omega can only be a celestial who descended from heaven to be near you, and for this you close your eyes to everything, even when soft arms are wrapped around you, leading away from others, not wanting you to waste time on anyone other than him, lightly biting the skin of your neck until there are small scarlet marks like tiny flowers.

You don't notice yourself when you become surrounded only by him — and no one else. It was as if he was a whirlpool into which you were sucked without any possibility of getting out, and you can only flounder pitifully or relax and agree that omega, who is ready for anything just so that your gaze never comes down, is exactly what you crave.

In the end, the rest of the world gives only pain and disappointment. When was the last time you weren't happy with him? You don't remember yourself. And you could not say that he was the cause of your problems or difficult stages — rather, he was the only one who gave you support, always by your side and helping you, finding words that could dispel your storm and let the sun appear.

You can't remember many memories in which anyone other than him was kind and nice to you — after all, your omega was always the best, right?

Smiling with scarlet lips like blood, SHI MEI gently puts his head on your shoulder, inhaling your scent, purring with pleasure finally having you just for himself feeling so joyful and blessed that the tips of his fingers tremble slightly — but immediately warm up when you gently kiss them, asking carefully, don't is your omega cold; since that time you are no longer sick, you have become much more attentive to your body, so he can use your cape while you go inside the building.

It would be problematic if the future father of your puppies got sick from lack of your care, wouldn't it?

A shy blush touches his cheeks, but he doesn't deny it in any way, nodding timidly, even more reminiscent of a fragile flower that you want to take care of and cherish for the rest of your days.

Such a cutie.

Wherever he goes, you will follow.

After all, your omega is the only and most precious thing you have.

And if he wants, the whole world will turn to dust.

Because he is the only thing you have and who has ever loved you.

ωαx Shi Mei understands that something is wrong when you don't want to 'hug' him, although he was sure that enough time had passed since he planted a flower in you. Undoubtedly, you are gentle to him — and affectionate — and allow him to leave a scent on you — and do not mind his touch — but there is no this in your eyes. Your eyes have the sparkle of comets, but they don't have that in them.

There is no adoration.

He is sure that the flower is in you — the flower should be in you — but nothing happens. It seemed that the flower withered in you. But that's impossible, right? After all, SHI MEI is sure that you have the soil for the flower — he knows that in another time line the flower has grown in you — but now it is not so. He is still your 'senior fellow student, just an omega' who can leave a smell and on whom you can leave a smell, but nothing more. Just members of a pack led by beta...

Not beta.

Chu Wanning no longer smells like beta-like omega.

SHI MEI knew before that he was not a beta — but when a strong, viscous fragrance filled everything around, especially clinging to your skin and clothes when he rubbed against you in an almost possessive gesture, removing any strangers, for a moment he is confused, not understanding why shizun smells like an alpha, although he's sure he's an omega. Right? Chu Wanning should be an omega — after all, you react so calmly to his presence, but when SHI MEI looks at Mo Ran, he sees nothing but horror and humility in him, even if he tries to hide it, like a dog waiting for a blow. The smell of Chu Wanning is not light and barely noticeable, but strong, especially when you return from a little work in the Red Lotus Pavilion — it seems that you smelled of apple blossoms through and through, from which SHI MEI almost does not feel your own smell, although you assure that there was nothing and shizun just has a strong smell.

'Strong smell'? Chu Wanning smells fresh, a little tart, airily reminiscent of a woody fragrance, but having obvious notes associated with apple blossoms, and, according to your statements before you were his mate in the past — 'absolutely divine', but never so viscous, enveloping and at the same time icy, as if penetrating into the lungs and knocking everyone down.

What is the point of SHI MEI trying to leave his scent on you if you are constantly being overwhelmed by the smell of Chu Wanning? And why is Chu Wanning constantly rubbing against you in this life, much more sticky than in his previous life, which is not strange for the head of the pack, but is strange for him?

And why is the flower not growing?

#❖.my jewelry #🥮 — husky and his white cat shizun #✉.shi mei #✉.chu wanning #🧸.yandere au #🧸.omegaverse au #🧸.unhealthy

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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 4 months

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Could you do an ABO Headcanon of Alphas!Overblot Gang x Omega!Kalim, where Kalim is a boy who was sold for a ritual to summon the seven most powerful demons to be sacrificed, but at the time of the ritual, the demons ( who I imagine in their Overblots forms) are interested in Kalim and choose him as their omega/fiance, and despite their rude and irritated manner, they slowly show that they care and love Kalim

This took so long since I had to do so much research and by the time I nearly finished it it didn't save so I lost the whole thing so I'm rewriting this all over again so if you see double somehow, now you know!

WARNING: This post will have the following;

Alpha/Beta/Omega Verse (A/B/O)

Attempted murder

Sex stuff

Is Hella Gay

If you no not like ANY of this stuff, the ships around it, or are not interested, then move along! Do not comment or engage at all if you dislike all this!

Now onto the post!

Life of Kalim Al-Asim was always pleasant and sweet. He always relied on his family and close servants and lived in a beautiful home of a beautiful and thieving kingdom. Sure he's mostly isolated and not allowed outside the home's walls but that's for his protection!

He got along great with all his servants, his family adored him as much as he adored them. Though he does have one wish his heart aches many times over, the return of his best friend... Jamil disappeared in the two's younger years right when tests to determine who's an alpha, beta, or omega started. Nothing in his room was touched or packed which made it clear he didn't run away. Not like he would, thought Kalim... He promised...

Days have been counted down for Kalim's birthday, a large wide celebration everyone celebrates in many positive ways. And this birthday was extra special for Kalim since he was informed they will be holding a parade just for him to walk around and spread goods from the family in his honor! One the day of the his birthday, he was bathed in the nicest soaps and warmest water, dressed in the finest silks and softest fabrics and ate the most delicious food he ever taste before they swept him right to the soft and veiled palanquin waiting for him.

Btw if you wanna know what he wore, I pictured the Fairy Gala outfit

Kalim was happy seeing everyone's cheerful faces as they move across the kingdom, everyone excited to see and celebrate with the well rumored beautiful child of the Asim family name, he tossed much gold coins and flowers to everyone as he waves and smiles bright and kind

As the parade drew to a close he leaned back into the soft cushions before he took notice they seem to be wandering farther away from the kingdom and more to the darker shade due to the nightfall land Before he could ask his father where they were going, the guards quickly grab onto Kalim and yank him out of the once comforting and protecting veiled hide away and into the sand

The parade was a ruse. The kindness he believed from the servants was a ruse. The lie that he was being held inside was a ruse. It was all a lie for everyone, Kalim, the kingdom...All lied to with the idea the world was unsafe for the son of such a wealthy family, but in reality he was hidden away for this very moment... With the moon at the right phase and at it's peak, as they drag the poor screaming and crying Kalim to the ruins and pin him down to the large alter. Ruby eyes widen when seeing the large seven statues of the most powerful demons in the universe... The Crimson Tyrant of Wrath The Scarred Rebel of Sloth The Enchanting Merchant of Greed The Viperous Tactician of Envy The Poisonous Oppressor of Pride The Fire Guardian of Tristitia And The Thorn Dragon of Melancholy

Kalim cried and pleaded to be let go, even more when his father explained it has to happen, that if they sacrifice once in a while the land would be blessed with great farming, water, riches, etc. and if they sacrifice such a golden soul they might be blessed with something greater.

Kalim cried and squirmed as he tried to escape from their tight grips as the kept going of the ritual. That's when he sees them... Seven figures appear from the shadows, from the Earth, from the skies, from the fires, from mere matter... Standing around him in a circle...

Kalim woke up in a soft bed he doesn't recognize in a room he doesn't recall even more, sitting up he sees hanging up are a set of clothes seemingly fit for him to wear, black and red with glamourous golds to tie it all together...

After a moment a ghostly servant of sorts come to him and tells him to get dressed and come follow him to the gardens where "they" are waiting for him

Nervous of what'll happen if he disagrees right now, he does as he is told and waited for the servant to leave the room to change to the new clothes and stepped out, he followed the ghost to the location of the large and hauntingly beautiful dark gardens of many plants

There seated in a table at the center of the garden are the seven demons.

Kalim carefully sat with them, scared to look at any of them but more scared to upset him so he answered when they talk to him, nodded at yes or no questions, but why are they treating him like this? To make it even more fun when he dies in their hands? He finally spoke, "What am I doing here? Are...Are you going to kil-" His words were forced to a stop when a servant place a plate before him, his favorite food from childhood... But how-

The eight men talked a bit more before they finally informed Kalim he'll stay with them from now on. "Why?" Kalim was unable to not blurt out. The men look at one another, a silent agreeance, before they speak, "We pick you to be our's."

Days passed since that first meeting about Kalim's new living arrangements, and it's been doing alright.

Kalim started to get used to these demons, even more when he realize one of them was Jamil! As it turned out he was banished after he got back from the test he was an alpha and they assumed Kalim would be one and didn't want them to fight, not knowing until after the banishment that Kalim was actually an Omega... After the banishment, Jamil was fortunately found by a man who turns out was the previous demon of Envy and taught him the ways of ruling and magic. He also grew to understand that he has met every one of the other demons - Riddle, Leona, Azul, Vil, Idia, and Malleus - some time before they saved him from his attempted sacrifice ritual

Overtime since he began his new living arrangement, Kalim began to see the sides of these seven he never thought to see before. They may be seen as scary and intimidating, but they really are so different than what Kalim heard from the stories... He grew to adore Riddle's awe of the wildlife in the garden and how he loves games and his roses. He grew to like Leona's strong will of equal rights for everyone. He grew to admire hearing Azul's little rambles of paper work and how he can do so much in so little time. He grew to love Jamil's strong will and sharp tongue. He grew to like Vil's knowledge of nature and what it can give you in potion making. He grew to admire Idia's little rants and chill talks with him about his hobbies and interests. He grew to love Malleus' quirks and clingy methods of love and cuddles.

It didn't take much from wandering around the new home of his and going around the lands with them that he feel deeper and deeper in love with all of them. And like him, it didn't take much for them to make it clear they want him in a much deeper romantic sense

It was a whole six months since they saved him when the signs of gentle warmth and romance begun to show their heads to Kalim.

Riddle started to invite him to have sweets with him or a garden stroll

Leona naps a lot but now he's offering Kalim to nap with him or read beside him while he cuddles him

Azul began to offer travel plans to Kalim and spoiled him plenty with new clothes and items

Jamil began to cook more foods Kalim loves and helped him in dancing if wanted or needed

Vil started to do relaxing spa like methods for Kalim, setting up luxurious baths and spa facials, he also begun to give the boy his books if he so ask

Idia was starting to talk more with Kalim and they watched the stars together

And Malleus has invited him on many moonlit strolls across the gardens

It was after a while of all this did the seven sat Kalim down and asked him properly if they can all be lovers, that if he's okay being their omega. At this point, Kalim was not once uncomfortable by any of them and none of them tried anything to him without asking first. He agreed rather happily and thus the new romance begun!

The eight began to live their lives comfortably as lovers, they had to get used yes but they worked

Over time with their help the lovers really begun to get used to each other thanks to the heats.

Now, for the first one, as they weren't lovers yet, they all made sure Kalim was locked in his room and fought tooth and nail of their temptations to mate with him. The sweet coconut and sand scent he was giving off while he stole the varies clothes and items of theirs's for his nest nearly drove them mad

So, luckily, by the time the next heat happened they were all together and ready for it

The first night was a long passionate one with them eagerly exploring each other and how much their sweet omega can take

Each time they took mental notes with anything that gave their Kalim pleasure

Kalim's poor skin is just covered in bites and marks

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sarahowritesostucky · 2 months

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📖"Hydra Sanatorium"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word count: 3120

Tags: a/b/o, medical institutionalization, cognitive disability, made up kinky medical things, diapers, catheters, enemas, non-con medical procedures, restraints, forced wetting, hurt/comfort, humiliation, kind!Careworker Steve, bratty!Patient Bucky, alpha Steve, omega bucky, dry humping, forced orgasm, masturbation, implied self harm, orgasm therapy, age difference (19/30), omorashi

Summary: Bucky is a troubled teen coping with the traumatic transformation of late-onset omega puberty. Steve's the care worker who's been developing too much of an attachment.

Wait! I think I missed a previous chapter! Series Masterlist

Chapter 7: Pheromonal Oil Massage

Close to an hour later, Bucky’s verbal again, murmuring quietly to Steve about what happened as the alpha massages his body. “I was asleep?” he asks, shivering as Steve’s hands glide all over him. “Oh, mmm.”

Steve’s been rubbing pheromonal oil into his skin while he holds the enema. “Not exactly,” he tells him, sliding his hands over the swell of his bloated belly. “You were awake and moving around. You just don’t remember.”

“Mm.” Bucky’s eyes are closed and he’s scenting very, very relaxed. No surprise really, when he’s been all but drugged up on a bucket of cum. “M’sorry?”

Steve smiles gently, knowing that the kid’s not all the way back in his head yet. “Nothing to apologize for, bub,” he says, rubbing his hands up to Bucky’s chest, where his breast tissue is just barely engorged from the treatment. It’s a good sign, means that the knot triggered his cervix to open and his body thinks he’s pregnant.

But up on the table, Bucky starts to whine and pout, and after three years of working together, Steve knows him well enough to know what’s likely going on in his head. He’s upset that he got caught frantically stimming in a stupor, humping the furniture in a room full of other patients. (Nevermind that that’s exactly what that particular piece of furniture was designed for.)

Steve pets him with comforting, oily fingers. “It was just a physical reaction. Like shock, or an insulin crash. You couldn’t help it any more than you could help a hiccup or a sneeze. And look at you now, huh? It’s all fine. We got you sorted.”

He holds the sides of his swollen belly, cupping the taut shape of it and rubbing up and down. Bucky’s so distended that it’s hard to believe he isn’t pregnant, the shine of the oil only enhancing the curve of how filled out he is and making him look lush and ripe. It’s nothing compared to what would happen if he was actually carrying a pup or two to term, but it’s enough to have Steve’s imagination running wild and his dick straining against his compression underwear.

“Can you tell me how you feel?” he asks, giving Bucky ample time to parse out his feelings and respond. Because while the kid may have his words back, he’s still very much overwhelmed by the physical sensations his body’s going through right now. Steve rubs back up to his chest and circles oiled fingertips all around his breast buds, working the pheromones into the sensitive tissue.

Bucky gasps and his hands fly up to cover Steve’s—not to stop him, but to grab onto where he’s making him feel so good. “Oh, Steve that’s … mmm.” His eyes slip closed, the embarrassed flush on his face spreading all the way to his rosy neck and down to his chest. “I sh-shouldn’t …” he slurs, and Steve rumbles in displeasure.

“Nonsense. Shh. It’s okay. Just let me rub ‘em, Sweetheart. You’re allowed to enjoy it.” Bucky’s nipples are usually flat and the sweetest pale pink color. But with the way his body’s reacting to the treatment, they’ve darkened to a livid hue. Two tempting, puffy swells. Steve can’t resist pulling them up between his fingers and plucking lightly, over and over, bringing them out to their full peaks. “God, Honey,” he whispers, in awe of how beautiful Bucky is. “I love to see you like this. You got no idea.”

He shouldn’t say that. But he can’t help it, not when Bucky responds so positively to it, not when the boy’s features relax and his scent gets aroused and happy. Bucky’s in a really good place mentally right now. The inflation therapy has him calmer and more subdued than Steve’s ever seen him, his body taking to the illusion of a pregnancy like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Steve can’t help imagining what it would be like if Bucky was this at peace all the time, can’t stop thinking about how he could give that to the omega. He could take him home and keep him, become his Alpha and give him the security of a bond, breed him up for real. Steve can feel himself slipping into the fantasy, and he likes the picture it paints in his mind: Bucky, in his home and under his protection, eating his food each day and taking his knot each night. He’d give the boy anything and everything he wanted, buy him gifts and games and all sorts of little things to stim on and keep him occupied during the day, things to fill his time that’d make his life nothing but easy and fun and pleasurable. Steve can’t help how bad he wants it. He’s thought about putting in his resignation for a while now, in a vague way. But he’s been thinking of it in a concrete way ever since Bucky’s belly got fully inflated. Maybe even before that.

Shit, he thinks. He needs to quit this job. Maybe he really could. Leave Hydra and go work with Sam at Shield, or in some other private practice. He could even think about a career switch to something less physically demanding. Maybe get a job at an omega placement agency or day school or something. Bucky might even be able to come to work with him, if he was at a place like that. And wouldn’t that be nice? That way the omega could engage with his peers and pursue his interests. He’d have Steve close by whenever he needed him. Plus, the salary would almost certainly be higher. Along with the government stipends he’d get for having an omega in his household, Steve would surely have enough to care for an omega full time, take a few vacations a year … start a family.

“Steve?” Bucky’s soft voice brings him back to the present. His hands are still on Steve’s wrists and his eyes have slipped closed again at the chest massage. His lips are just slightly upturned, peaceful and blissed out. “D'you think I’m pretty?”

Steve’s stroking falters. He composes himself, but only after about a half dozen filthy answers to the ways in which he finds Bucky’s body “pretty” roll through his head. “Yeah, Buck,” he croaks, voice thick with emotion that he shouldn’t be showing. “I do.” There are so many things he finds beautiful about the boy: his body, his lips, those eyes, his stubbornness and sensitivity, his dark curls … The tempting cleft in his chin that Steve has thought about kissing a thousand thousand times. “Real pretty, Sweetheart,” he reassures. “Just as you should be.”

On an ill-advised whim, he leans down and places a kiss to his belly. It’s not exactly a lewd thing to do, not when he’s already had the kid’s prick in hand and fingers up his ass. But kissing is different. “An unnecessary risk,” was what Christina had called it, back when Steve first started at Hydra and shadowed her for his Support-patient relations training. “Messy,” she’d said. Because it’s crossing an emotional line. A line of intimacy that has less to do with sexual release and more to do with emotional desire. As a Support Alpha, the former is perfectly routine, while the latter is strictly off limits. Kissing isn’t really something Steve should be doing, no matter how innocuous the body part.

He doesn’t care. He does it anyway. He kisses over the taught, shiny skin where Bucky looks pregnant and smells like the fragrant oil. “I think you’re the most beautiful omega I’ve ever seen, Honey,” he whispers.

Bucky smiles with his eyes still closed. “Mmm. You’re just sayin’ that.”

“Am not. It’s true. If you weren’t my patient here, I’d wanna take you home and keep you.”

Bucky whines, responding positively to that assertion. “Mmm. That wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Wouldn’t it?”

He peeks up at Steve through his lashes. “You’re pretty, too. … I always thought so.”

Steve swallows thickly, feeling overly warm. “Thank you, Honey.”

One of Bucky’s hands slides up from the treatment table to touch his belly. He makes a quiet, thoughtful noise. “Feels like I’m actually pregnant,” he slurs, then giggles like he’s drunk. “Mmm. So warm n’ heavy. S’nice.”

Steve hums. “That’s the idea.” He starts massaging a little firmer against the cradle of Bucky’s pelvis, really working the underside of his bloated belly. “Do you want babies?�� As soon as it’s out of his mouth, he’s ‘what the fuck’-ing himself in his head. Why did he say that?

But Bucky giggles and squirms up against his touch. “Mmnn, maybe.” His eyes open and he looks down at himself. “Oh,” he whispers, as though he’d forgotten how filled out he is. His hands creep tentatively over the swell of his stomach, feeling it, exploring his own body in a way that makes Steve’s dick fill out a little more in his pants. Bucky spends a few minutes staring at himself, lips parted and eyes glossy, before he finally says, “But … oh. I can’t.”

Steve frowns. “Why can’t you?”

“Cause. I don’t have an Alpha. N’ I couldn’t do it by myself.” Bucky winces and removes his hands from his stomach. “It’d be too hard. If I had a baby they’d just take it away.”

“Hey, no.” Steve tuts sadly. “That’s not true, bub. Single omega mothers aren’t separated from their pups anymore. They’d put you both in a safe place to be cared for.”

“No, that’s not—Ugh! You don’t get it, Steve.”

“Explain it to me, then. Hm? What don’t I get?” Bucky huffs and grunts like a brat, so Steve grabs his wrist and gives it a warning squeeze, rumbling quietly, “Don’t be like that. Use your words.”

Bucky pouts but responds positively to the dominance, squirming as his cheeks color and he forces himself to string a few coherent sentences together. “I don’t want to be ‘cared for’ by people who’re being paid to do it,” he mumbles, refusing to meet Steve’s eyes. “I don’t wanna be in places like this my whole life.”

Steve inhales deeply and absorbs that, thumbing over the back of Bucky’s hand and thinking of the beach scene he’d drawn in art therapy. “Where do you want to be?” Bucky doesn’t answer, and Steve orders him, “Answer me, Sweetheart.”

Bucky sulks some more and shrugs. “I dunno,” he mumbles. “Just want sumthin’ real. Somewhere I belong, not some place I’m only being stuck cause there’s nowhere else. I want a house. With a dog, and a yard, and a nest I don’t have to share with thirty other people.” He keeps his eyes averted, bashful to admit, “... I want an Alpha and pups. A real family. One where you’re together and you have like, Thanksgiving and Christmas n’ stuff.”

Summer beach vacations, Steve thinks, expression pinched as he remembers how Bucky had drawn himself: pregnant, at the beach with his alpha and pup. “You’re upset about your folks,” he says softly.

Bucky grunts and shakes his head. “I just want a real family. Someone to love me. Somebody who doesn’t care that I’m this way. I don’t have any of that. I never did.”

Steve feels lightheaded when he once again finds himself opening up his big, impulsive mouth. “What about me? I’m your Alpha.”

Bucky’s lips thin unhappily. “I mean a for real Alpha, Steve. In the real world. Somebody who’d wanna keep me and who’d … who’d wanna be the daddy.”

He whispers that last bit so dejectedly that Steve completely caves. ‘In for a penny’, and all that. “Well … What if I was the daddy, hm? What if I was your for-real Alpha?” Beneath his hands, he can feel Bucky’s body tensing—which is saying a lot, since he’s so drugged up. Steve licks his lips nervously. “What if I wanted to keep you?”

Bucky looks up at him through sluggish, confused eyes. “What?”

Steve panics, but he can’t back out now. If Bucky doesn’t want to be with him, that’s fine. It’s his right, his choice. Steve’ll have to resign from his job at Hydra regardless, just for propositioning a patient so fucking blatantly. But it’s fine. Steve swallows the lump in his throat and says, “I mean: what if I wasn’t your Support Alpha here, but your real Alpha?” He hesitates, trying to read Bucky’s face for a reaction. “Is that something you’d want?”

It’s hard to gauge exactly what the kid’s thinking as he stares dumbly up at Steve, the synthetic cum in the enema doing its job of knocking him pliant and slow. Steve is already regretting saying anything, because he’s going to have to ask this all over again when Bucky’s clear headed, but his heart still gives an adolescent leap when Bucky’s expression clears with understanding and starts to morph into something like wonder. “What?” he whispers. “You … Really? You’re not just sayin’ that?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, Honey. I’m not. I really mean it. It’s something I’ve thought about before. But you’ve always had your parents pulling you out so soon. And as your Support Alpha, I’m not really supposed to suggest things like this.”

“But you want to,” Bucky says, slowly, as though he needs to test the words out loud in order to make himself believe them. He glances down at his swollen belly, fingers splaying out as he clearly thinks about the reality of what that would mean. “You actually want me?”

Steve’s heart hurts, because Bucky says it like it’s too good of a thing to be true, for someone to genuinely want him. “Yeah, Honey. I want you. More than you know.”

“Well,” Bucky says, still stunned. “Well yeah. I mean, that would be … Yeah.”

Steve forgets to breathe. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Bucky's eyes slip closed on the tail end of a dopey smile. “Geez. You’re always so nice to me, Steve. Mmm. Yeah. I wanna go with you.”

Steve exhales shakily, relieved. He puts his hands back on Bucky to continue the belly massage. “Just relax, Honey. I’ll check in with you about this later, when you’re feeling a little more normal.”

Bucky hums and insists that he’s not going to change his mind.

Steve really hopes that’s true.

He sits next to the colonics bed and helps Bucky through the end of the inflation session. Bucky stays completely draped in several of the blankets from the warming cabinet as Steve coaxes him through the loss of the knot, and then through letting the liquid out, giving him praise and gentle instruction on how to focus on the different parts of his body to make sure that his uterus fully expels.

When it’s over, he’s left pink-faced, about the consistency of an overcooked noodle, and back to humming and chirping more than he uses his words. But it’s in a happy way now, no longer the catatonic stress reaction from before, so Steve is fine with it.

He helps him get dressed, and together they walk down the hall to the soft room. Per Steve’s request, it’s been kept empty of other patients. He immediately checks the thermostat and turns it up a few degrees, lights the prescription aromatherapy candles and sets those aside with a small pile of supplies he thinks he’ll use for their session together. He goes over to the desk and sits, booting up the laptop while Bucky tools around the room.

“Steve?”

“Mmhm?”

“Why do I feel so funny?”

Steve hums, navigating through the files on the computer. “Don’t worry about it, bub. S’just a reaction, remember? It’s natural.” He glances over the screen of the laptop to see Bucky hugging one of the medicated plushies. “You feel a little dopey?”

“Yeah. Mmm.” Bucky smiles and hides his face in the plushie’s fur. “Dopey.”

“That’s okay. It’s normal. You took a lot of pheromones in your tummy, remember?” He very pointedly does not say ‘cum’. “You held it for a long time. That’s what’s making you feel loopy.”

“Oh yeah,” Bucky says, distracted, then sighs happily as if he’s just regained the memory of all that went on in the bathroom. Steve genuinely believes that his recall of the past two hours is blurry at best. “Right. You said you would keep me,” he says. “And I could …”

“Yeah, Honey.” Another glance upwards and Steve sees the plushie abandoned on the floor. Bucky’s sliding his hands over his stomach, looking down at himself thoughtfully. He bites his lip and lifts the edge of his shirt up, baring a few inches of where his belly is flat once again. His right hand idly scritches over that stretch of skin and he makes a happy little sound without seeming to realize he’s doing it.

A wave of yearning smacks Steve in the face at witnessing it, threatening to pull him under the weight of his own emotions. Bucky’s diapered and dressed again by now, back in the sensory-friendly microfiber clothes that all patients on ward are given to wear. Ever since Steve first saw him dragged into Hydra at sixteen, Bucky has always chosen the navy sets of clothes rather than anything colorful or patterned like omegas are typically drawn to. After the inflation session when he was pliant and happy and defenseless, he’d asked for yellow.

“I like it when you call me that,” Bucky murmurs, smiling down at where he’s stroking his own skin.

“Mm?” Steve looks back at the computer screen, navigating through the various tracks of ASMR, trying to pick out one that he thinks will suit Bucky. “Call you what, bub?” Bucky’s response is to purr deep in his throat and say, ‘yeah, that’ in a dreamy voice, which gives Steve his answer. “Oh, right.” He chuckles, chest feeling warm like he’s just downed a shot of whiskey. Bub. He’s been calling Bucky that since the very beginning, ever since he’d first been dragged on-ward: angry, scared, and needing somebody to love him. The nickname happened organically. Steve had just blurted it out one day and never stopped.

It’s … not really something he’s ever done with any of his other patients. His smile wavers as he thinks about how he’s going to have to ask Bucky the same serious questions all over again, once he’s sobered up from this. Steve thinks that he'll still say yes. He hopes he will. Aside from wanting it so badly himself, he genuinely believes that it’ll be in Bucky’s best interest to come home with him and be his bonded omega. Better than any alternative the kid is likely to find.

And Steve feels positively elated when he imagines how nice it'll be, taking Bucky into his home and getting him acclimated, making him feel safe and taken care of, bonding him while making love to him for the first time ...

Grunting, Steve forces his attention back to the computer, sparing only a breif second to grind the hell of his hand punishingly against his dick. He can't think about all that now, not if he wants to get through this with his professional integrity intact.

Steve may have made up his mind to quit Hydra, but he still has a job to do for the time being, and that’s to take care of Bucky the way he needs. He finds the specific audio track he wants and sends it through to the room’s system, then closes out the laptop.

"Okay bub," he says, pushing out from the desk and standing. "Time to come down nice and gentle from your high."

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satureja13 · 1 year

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Disclaimer: This is the whole (kind of short) story of Jack and Kiyoshi in chronological order (not the order I posted it). 9 or 10 scrolls with 15 pictures. Until now. I felt the need to put everything in one place before we continue.

The first time Kiyoshi saw Jack was when Jack was 16 (Kiyoshi 17). (Around 2.5 years ago from now) Jack had been captured at the Lab and Kiyoshi had been sent there by his father to work as an assistant. Kiyoshi was raised in the beliefs of the Council and it was a shock for him to find out that Jack, a 'filthy creature', was supposed to be his fated mate. Kiyoshi made up his mind (with help from Dtui). He wasn't able to go on with the experiments. They rescued (at this time unconscious) Jack and Saiwa. The time at the Lab caused a huge damage to Jacks mind. And Kiyoshi feels guilty for this, because his family is involved.

Kiyoshi and Dtui had been sentenced to death because they rescued the 'test animals' and betrayed the Council. But they were able to escape. They made a deal with a lower 'god' and became Yokai (demons) and served at his temple furtheron. There Kiyoshi started his studies about werewolves to become Jack's Alpha one day. Which is hard for him. This is not his nature and he was teached to obey. But Jack is an omega by nature and damaged. He needs a strong hand and a strong partner to carry him through his hardships. But Kiyoshi pushed Jack to far. They are both too young and unfledged... (This can be read in Chapter 12, their Background Stories.)

From that day on Dtui and Kiyoshi had the Council at their heels. So Kiyoshi decided it would be better to keep his connection to Jack a secret to not put him in jeopardy.

Kiyoshi made his first move on Jack two years later, after Jack just had turned 18. He asked Ji Ho if it was ok to invite Jack to the Prom. (He really did this, he was a premade then ö.ö'). That was the first time Jack really noticed Kiyoshi and fell in love with him. (Jack has no memories of Kiyoshi from the lab, he and Saiwa had been anesthetized by Dtui to prevent them from further damage).

After Vlad had died, Jack was so broken, that he had been sent to the Temple where Kiyoshi took care of him. There they started their secret relationship. Kiyoshi just asked one thing of Jack - to trust him. He couldn't tell Jack why he was at the Lab and about his family and that he was a demon any why he became one. And that they are fated mates. He was so afraid that Jack would leave him if he ever finds out. All about this in Chapter 7 : Jack at the Temple

It's hard for Jack to trust Kiyoshi. After all that had happened to him, he's having a hard time trusting anyone. And he doesn't understand what a guy like Kiyoshi, who is adored by anyone could possibly want from a messed up wolf like him. And Jack can't trust himself. Deep inside he feels the same as Kiyoshi, but he can't give in. He developed a kind of paranoia after the Lab and is always searching for 'issues' and 'evidence' why it can't be. And Jack's jealousy doesn't make things easier either. He has any reason to be jeolous, though. Since Kiyoshi keeps his 'everybodies darling' image up to not reveal his relationship to Jack and to keep his connections to the Council. Under these circumstances it's better to also keep their relationship a secret from Jack's friends. They surely wouldn't approve Jack being treated like this.

One day Kiyoshi revealed that he is going to be connected with a familiar and Jacks imagination went wild... But in the same scene, Kiyoshi and Jack got engaged! (kind of ^^')

The named issues reached their peak in december. They were both at their limits and so they broke up (kind of)... But only a few days later Jack needed Kiyoshi's help to bring Vlad back (who gave control to Luci). And so Kiyoshi had to reveal to Jack that he is a demon. Jack was both shocked and attracted...

Their ways parted and when Saiwa, Vlad, Ji Ho and Jack returned to the Lab to investigate, Jack saw Kiyoshis nameplate in the abandoned Lab. Jack decided to keep this a secred from his friends. He couldn't break their hearts by revealing what Kiyoshi did to them since they like him so much. Even Vlad. (Plus he was bound to his promise to keep Kiyoshi's secrets - a trap). So he planned to 'get rid' of Kiyoshi in secret.

He soon got the opportunity. They met again at the 'Cattle Market' on the top of the mountain in Moonwood Mill. Where Kiyoshi was about to claim Jack and become his Alpha. Jack was confident. No one ever beat him in a fight. Not even Vlad. But Kiyoshi won. Against all odds. This was a dark night for Jack. To be the underling of his torturer...

They met again at their new school and Jack tried again to kill Kiyoshi in an honorable fight (of no avail), but he couldn't resist him either. Jack hates himself for this.

This whole situation drove Jack more and more nuts and after a werewolf class, where they learned that the Alpha gains strength from his pack and that Jack himself was the reason why he can't defeat Kiyoshi in an honorable fight, he decided to murder Kiyoshi right away with his new lightsaber.

He was just about to leave their apartment, whe he noticed the data from the lab on Saiwa's computer. And he saw the video from Kiyoshi and Dtui's execution. So Kiyoshi tried to save them? He deleted the video nevertheless. He promised Kiyoshi to keep his secret. And if Kiyoshi finds out that Jack knows what the Council did to them, he would be concerned that Jack couldn't keep his feet still and would endanger their mission (to find out what the Council wants from Vlad). And he would have been right. Because now, Jack is determined to kill his Principal and her daughter - to start with... (because their name was printed on the documents Jack found in the lab). And then Jack had a mental breakdown. His mind went to a galaxy far far away...

And his body rests in a pod in Copperdale... ~ To be continued ~ ouf!

They are both aware that they will never be each others top priority. Jack will always put his friends first. Above all Saiwa and Vlad. And for Kiyoshi his duty will always be predominant. For his temple and for the Resistance. Still both have a deep understanding for their partners decision. And maybe just that is proof that they are already each others main concern.

For me it is a relief to know that Jack and Kiyoshi will stay together and even raise kids in my other story universe. This makes it easier to endure. And that Kiyoshi helped Jack become the reliable and halfway 'sane' man i know for over 10 years.

'You showed me that I was just a diamond in the rough You helped me to grow into the man that I've become We've been down, we've been up I hope I've made you proud enough You make it look easy even when I'm hard to love'

Hard To Love - One Ok Rock

From the Beginning ~ Underwater Love ~ Latest

#background stories #The Story of Jack and Kiyoshi #sims 4 story #sims 4 simblr #sims 4 occult #sims 4 vanilla #simblr #jack callahan #kiyoshi ito #underwater love

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necros-writing-stuff · 3 years

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Oooo, can you imagine multiple alphas are after an omega PC? It's going to be chaos. They probably be waiting for when PC's heat struck to claim them. But, who will get PC first? Are they beyond kidnapping PC to make sure PC is theirs? *whisper* can u include all the alpha LIs?

Ooo boy this is just the game on hard mode 100% allure.

Decided not to include Black Wolf and Great Hawk - just couldn't think of how they would be different than usual.

NSFW below (tw for kidnapping, noncon)

Alex

The moment you arrive on that farm Alex wants you claimed.

That sweet omega scent calls out to them and they know they have to give you the job.

Still acts kind, still tries to butter you up so you'll like them more.

Uses helping you with more strenuous work as an excuse to rub the scent over you.

But if you come to work one day smelling like another alpha? Alex isn't going to be happy.

Might start a wresting match, just some 'innocent' rough play, so they can rub themselves all over you again.

Offers to let you stay at the cottage from that point on. You're turning a profit now! No need to worry about school or work or whatever it is in that town that keeps you going back!

If you accept then all is well. Alex can move you in and start claiming you fully.

If not, you might have to watch your drinks. Alex has plenty of drugs that can kick you into your heat, have you begging to be taken one way or another.

You'll be their woman/man eventually. Patience pays off, that's one thing Alex has learned with being a farmer. The more love and care you put into a new crop or animal, the better the results. Mating you won't be any different.

Wants to spend heats with you. Wants to breed you, work on the farm while you rest, then come back inside the nest and breed you more.

Very warm, comforting scent. Reminds you of summer afternoons, with a picnic.

Avery

You have to be marked by them if you're in an arrangement.

Initially takes you on because they're sick of being asked when they're getting mated, when they're settling down and having kids, aren't you sick of working so hard?

You're the perfect little distraction. With you around, their peers stop being so invasive.

You have to behave in a certain manner though, you have to behave as Avery's true omega. Its what they pay you for.

So who is this alpha you're walking home with? All bright eyes and laughter?

Avery drags you into their car, sight going red when that alpha hugs you. People are watching, they don't care, not in this moment.

Locks the doors and drives into an alleyway, not listening to your distressed cries.

Pins you down in the backseat and marks you while they fuck you silly. What kind of a slut are you that you just let alphas touch you so casually?

No amount of apologies are going to stop them taking you. What about Avery's reputation, you ungrateful whore? Have you forgotten your place?

If Avery needs to take you home and chain you up to be a house-spouse they will. Its very unlikely, they're more obliged to cut you off and blacklist you, but its possible.

Okay with you spending heats alone, due to their busy schedule.

Scent is complimented by expensive aftershaves/perfumes in a way that let's everyone know exactly what Avery's social standing is. It commands respect.

Eden

You're not getting off the leash. It's far too risky, you'll just have to follow Eden around forever now.

Knows when you've been touching others, spanks you for it and then ruins you till you forget anyone else exists.

Doesn't matter who it is or what context.

Has proven they're perfectly okay with hunting you down wherever you run off to and dragging you back.

People are terrified of Eden, no matter how much you struggle to get away from their grip, the most you'll get is someone yelling out to leave you alone.

Pretty much only death is going to stop Eden claiming you.

Very okay with hurting any rivals. If Eden comes into town to find you with a schoolmate, Avery, or if they treck out into the farmlands and find you with Alex, Eden could get trigger happy.

Drags you back home after, noone gets to see you vulnerable apart from Eden.

No more school. No more worrying about your orphan friend, no more money or debt. Just stay at home. Where you belong.

Never ever let's your bites fade. They're always red raw and fresh. Eden will take time to rub salve into the wound to calm it, but they'll never relent when it comes to marking. Even if it's just you two out here.

No walks by yourself in the woods. Those wolves find you too tasty, what if they take you away?

Natural and overpowering scent. A little sweaty by midday, but after a bath it's very earthy and fresh. Has plenty of blockers on hand to use when hunting. You're not allowed them.

Kylar

The school trio is where shit gets messy as all hell- because they're the ones most likely to run into each other vying for your attention.

Kylar will protect you from afar, with their blow darts.

Constantly appearing out of nowhere and dragging you away from Robin or Whitney. Even if you just walk past one of the others in the hallways at school Kylar knows and will cling to you so desperately.

That line in the park where they tell you they know if you've been thinking of others? Yeah well it has more weight to it now than ever.

Gives you their clothes to wear, if they'll fit. If not, then they take every chance to break into your room and put their scent everywhere - especially your pillow so it can cover you in your sleep. Maybe you'll dream of them, like they dream of you.

More likely to pull knives when you're close to your heat, also more likely to come at Whitney rather than letting you drag them away from a fight.

And when I say go at Whitney, I mean jumping on their back and fighting like a feral animal.

Panics if they pick up a scent that isn't Robin or Whitney. What do you mean there's even more people to worry about? Where have you been sneaking off to without them knowing? Is that where you're spending your heats?

Speaking if heats, will go hysterical if you spend it alone, never mind with others. You're meant to spend it with Kylar, you're meant to let them breed you.

The most prepared to whisk you away at a moments notice once their jealousy hits its peak.

Going to breed you as soon as you're tied up in their basement, going to mate you and mark you up.

Has a sharp scent. Can be a little stale at times, but its not unpleasant. A little citrus-y.

Robin

A lower confidence Robin might let someone else take you, thinking they don't deserve to be your alpha - maybe there's others out there who can take care of you.

Sits rather dejected at lunch when Kylar barges into your conversation to kiss you in front of them.

Looks away when Whitney cops a feel against the lockers.

A high confidence Robin is more likely to say something about it, but they still respect your autonomy.

It's your choice at the end of the day, Robin just hopes you choose them.

Not gonna kidnap or noncon you over it. Prefers that you willingly give yourself- it means more to them, proves how real it is that you crawl into their lap rather than being pulled into Whitney's.

Very gentle during heats. Will try to hold off cumming until you do, to make sure you're taken care of and not in pain. Might stand guard for you if you decide to go it alone, but is scared they'll give into temptation and barge your door down.

Will scent you when you ask. Its a very soothing, clean scent. Not too overpowering or demanding, not too subtle. Just nice.

Whitney

Oh no.

You thought you'd suffered humiliation before? Well now there's competition you'll see something fierce.

Constantly marking you. Constantly scenting, cumming on your face and rubbing the liquids in so you'll be very obviously claimed for all to see.

Will grab you in the middle of a conversation just to make out with you in front of your friend - especially if its Robin.

If you're talking to Kylar? Same thing only they'll ask their friends to grab the freak so they can't get violent.

Obviously fuck you in public when they can, but even Whitney knows how dangerous it could be to do that when you're in heat.

Whitney is strong, but the chance of some ridiculously strong alpha pulling them off of you and claiming you instead drives them insane.

You can go heats alone. Just don't spend them with anyone else.

Gloats when you ask them to take care of your heat. Yeah, of course you want them, who else would do a good job?

Another one who likes you in their clothes.

Surprisingly fresh scent. It's accompanied by smoke and the occasional alcohol, but naturally Whitney is actually rather clean to smell. It definitely turns heads.

#degrees of lewdity alex #degrees of lewdity kylar #degrees of lewdity eden #degrees of lewdity whitney #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity avery #spill your guts #anonymous #tw noncon

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elencelebrindal · 3 years

Text

Female Cloths that have no reason to exist

You all know what I’m talking about, right? Yeah, you do. You absolutely do.

I’m talking about three specific instances of Silver Cloths that, instead of looking like armor and acting like armor, are more like... oh, you’re a girl? Let’s show that body! Let’s have nothing but a pathetic excuse of armor that should you try to fight will have you easily stabbed in the guts.

What pisses me off is not the (bad) design itself. It’s the fact that the Silver Cloths are described are armors that cover the body more than the Bronze Cloths. Yet, we have Marin, Shain and Yuzuriha wearing nothing. These Cloths should adapt to the body of the wearer, right? Well, I want you to imagine how those pathetic armors would adapt to a man’s body. It’s so painfully clear that those armors (or lack of armors) were designed without keeping practicality in mind, but just to have something revealing.

This is a really long post, so I’m hiding it under the “read more”, but I wanted to put my thoughts out there because I’m honestly tired.

We have example of functional armor. We have June (who’s still better in Awakening as far as design goes, imo), and we have Thetis.

So first of all, let’s take a look at those good ones, shall we?

This is, in my opinion, one of the best armors I’ve seen worn by a woman on this series. It’s not different from an armor you would see a man wear, just adapted to fit a woman’s body. It has everything; gauntlets, boots, cuirass, pauldrons... nothing’s missing. A perfect example of how an armor should look. Not a comparison for a Silver Cloth, because the probability of a Silver Cloth having less pieces is high, but a comparison between a good decision and a bad decision.

This is really good for a Bronze Cloth. The amount of armor, given the description of those Cloths, is perfect. She has everything, and at the same time not too much, perfect for an armor of that rank, since we know that the Bronze Cloth cover the smallest amount of the body when compared to Silver and Gold. The only thing I don’t like is that she has an impossible “catsuit” (I really don’t have any better ways to call that) under it. It would make way more sense if the upper part was more like a tank top, than whatever sorcery is going on. You ever tried to wear sleeveless anything? You know that stuff slips off continuously. Aside from that, she’s amazing.

The main reason why I wanted to present these examples to you is to clarify that I’m not complaining about how much of the body is shown. There’s plenty more male characters that literally are unable to stay dressed on this show (Shiryu, I’m talking to you, wear a goddamn shirt for once). I’m complaining about how unfair it is to have female characters being so... in a way, objectified. We have good examples, so why not using those examples for characters that should need more than what they’re given?

To make this even more clear, another armor that has no reason to exist is this:

Because honestly, a Surplice covering nothing of importance is really useful.

I’m focusing on the female characters here because, while half a Surplice is bad, is not as bad as women wearing Silver Cloths that are supposed to be a better protection than Bronze Cloths and instead they get to wear metallic underwear.

This little armor:

only makes sense for a Bronze Saint. They are supposed not to have a lot of it. And yet, this example in particular has more pieces than the classic Eagle Cloth. It does nothing, but it literally covers more than a Silver Cloth. This armor also has boots, of course.

Let’s tackle the problem, shall we?

Try to convince me that she’s not wearing just a goddamn metal bra. Come on. This is not armor. This is Marin opening her closet, finding one of her fanciest bras, and wearing it alongside those gifts that are actual armor parts.

The smallest Bronze Cloth of the classic series has a large total of pieces. Boots, gauntlets, some kind of cuirass, pauldrons, knee guards, helmet (in Saint Seiya the definition of helmet is weird, by now we know). Some of them also have those pieces that in a suit of armor could be faulds or tassets, some of them have simple belts, some have cuissess. Give or take 1 to 3 pieces, basically. The smallest proper Silver Cloth has the same pieces, only they cover much more of the body. Or at least, they should, but we have examples of Silver Cloths literally being the same as Bronze Cloths. It makes me kinda frustrated, but knowing that those armors are stronger gives me a bit of peace. The best Silver Cloth is the Lyra Cloth, obviously, since it actually matches the description accordingly.

So... we have what? 2 for the boots, 2 for the gauntlets, 1 for cuirass, 2 for the pauldrons, 2 for the knee guards, 1 for the helmet, and give or take 1-3 pieces for the “optional” ones I mentioned. It’s 10 pieces of armor.

How many pieces is the Eagle Cloth composed of? 0 boots, 1 gauntlet, 1 breastplate (in absence of other words to call that), 1 plauldron, 2 knee guards, 1 helmet. It’s 6 pieces of armor. She’s supposed to have the same, if not more, compared to a Bronze.

Not only that, have you seen what she’s wearing under it? How is that even remotely comfortable in battle? You know how many times that weird... what the hell is that? A tight high sock? would slip down during a fight? Unless she glued it in place, I highly doubt it’s a good fighting outfit. It would have been better for her to wear either a single catsuit, or even to keep the leotard but have both of the red tights (preferably leggings uh, you don’t go to battle in tights) be a full piece.

The manga armor actually has one more piece. It’s not much, but it’s something. It resembles way more how other Cloth’s are treated, when the breastplate is so small. However, it’s still missing boots. There’s literally no other Cloth, save for Ophiuchus, that doesn’t have boots. What now, they are too much for a woman to handle? June and Thetis have boots. Marin gets leg warmers and shoes she has to personally provide, apparently, because her Cloth is a discount one. I get that it has to resemble an eagle, but come on. There’s totems depicting smaller animals that have more stuff.

This artwork I found is from CamilleAddams on Deviantart:

See how easy is to give her a proper armor? It’s still missing the boots, but it’s already much better. It looks like a Silver Cloth, now. And this is only one of the many “updates” I’ve seen made by artists way more talented that I could ever aspire to be.

This is my own sketch of a proper Eagle Cloth:

Is this really so unrealistic? To have an actually good Cloth for a Silver Saint?

Now, time to take a look at Shaina.

How many pieces is this armor comprised of? 1 breastplate, 2 pauldrons, 0 boots, 1 gauntlet, 1 helmet, 2 knee guards. A total of 7 pieces, just one more that Eagle. 3 less than a basic Bronze Cloth.

The same exact discourse applies to the Ophiuchus Cloth. Copy-paste what I wrote for the Eagle Cloth and use it here. Also the hot pink leg warmers paired with yellow HEELS (which yes, are stupid), green leggings and brown leotard are a spectacular combo. Who in the fresh hell decided the colors for her, this is a disaster more than her Cloth.

At least she actually has no gaps between leotard and (hopefully) leggings.

I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but the Omega Ophiuchus Cloth is so much better than this, at least in base concept. The art is as ugly as my face in the morning, but the concept is legit.

Look at this, ridiculous but PROPER armor.

Once again, the manga has one more piece. It looks like she’s not wearing shoes, but it’s the manga, I give that a pass.

But this particular Cloth makes me unbelievably angry, and you know why? Because the Ophiuchus Gold Cloth exists. And the Ophiuchus Gold Cloth is the proof that this thing doesn’t need to be so useless, because if that can be proper armor, this could be as well. It’s a design choice, and it’s a poor one to say the least.

Look at the Gold Ophiuchus Cloth (render by LadyHeinstein on Deviantart):

Look at this, and tell me that a decent suit of armor couldn’t be conjured for the Silver Cloth as well. The Ophiuchus constellation is literally a man holding a snake. There’s no excuse for not having a human-like Cloth like, I don’t know, the Andromeda Cloth. Instead, Shaina gets a version that’s not even half a human figure, with nothing to wear but discounted armor that honestly should go straight back to the shop where it came from.

This is what makes me even angrier when it comes to this particular Cloth.

Again, this is an “updated” version of the Ophiuchus Cloth by CamilleAddams on Deviantart:

See how much better it is? How much more realistic it looks, when it comes to Saint armor? It looks like a proper Silver Cloth like this, even with no boots.

In comparison, here’s my own sketch (much lower quality, I know) of the Cloth:

It’s not that difficult! Just have them wear the same stuff their companions wear, is this so much to ask?

But now we come to the best one. Peak character design. So amazingly appropriate for battle that it’s stunning. Crane Yuzuriha from The Lost Canvas.

What. The. Absolute. Fuck.

How is that a Silver Cloth? How is that a Cloth? Come on!

Leaving aside the fact that I hate how she doesn’t wear the mask (I made a post about this whole issue, back in the day, I’ll try to link it as soon as I can), she has basically no armor on expect for her legs and arms. Whatever bullshit is going on on her chest is everything but armor. She has sandals, for gods sake. Sandals. You don’t want to be a Saint wearing sandals, this is not Ancient Romans having wars for breakfasts, this is a supernatural warrior constantly kicking the shit out of stone and trees (generally speaking). How are sandals something appropriate for a Saint? This is the same exact stuff I wrote for the skirts of the Saintias, it’s not appropriate for the setting.

But let’s leave this, and let’s tackle what she (doesn’t) wear under her armor. Yuzuriha, my dear, I know that you have abs of steel and you want to show off, but that’s an excellent way to get injured all over with no effort whatsoever. Unless you have invulnerable skin, you’d want to wear something better than booty shorts and bandages that are apparently glued on her boobs. Wear at least something like June, if you don’t want to have sleeves. This is a design flaw, not something beautiful. The concept is good on its own, but a Saint should NOT be dressed like that. They’re constanly being thrown at whatever surface is the hardest at the moment. Imagine your bare skin sliding at the speed of sound on rocks and dirt. It’s not only unpractical, is technically dangerous. And I get it, this is an anime, everyone is invulnerable unless blood is needed, but even then this is utterly ridiculous.

And now, the most ridiculous thing of them all: the breastplate. It’s literally two sheets of silver feathers apparently glued to her skin. Nothing more. It’s not armor, it just... it’s literally nothing. She’s better off not wearing it, at this point, because it’s useless.

She would just need a better breastplate/cuirass for that Cloth to be appropriate. Everything else is fine (minus the heels, but at this point why do I even try). In comparison, a male Saint wearing that Cloth would probably end up shirtless, either the Cloth adjusts itself to the body or not. Who in their right mind would go in battle shirtless????? (yeah yeah, Shiryu and Dohko, but those two have armor on when they don’t act like strippers, at least pay them good money dammit).

What infuriates me is knowing how the other Silver Cloths are like. It’s painfully obvious that Yuzuriha had to be the edgy woman with revealing clothes and armor, when you look at the REAL Silver Cloths of this series.

Those shrtless dudes also want trouble, but at least they are somewhat covered. They still need to wear a goddamn shirt, but they also have more armor. Why they can be THIS normal, but Yuzuriha has to look like she lost half her armor in a dumpster fire and tried to make to with the remnants?

I really like her as a character, and I don’t mind her wearing what she wears (dude, she’s can afford to dress like that, I wish), but the Cloth is terrible.

The women in Saint Seiya Omega were better equipped than these three poor souls. I don’t like that series at all, and I forgot at least half of it (if not more) since the last time (aka the first) I watched it, but they do have more properly designed armors. These three - Marin, Shaina, and Yuzuriha - are a perfect example of what you don’t have to do when designing armor for female characters, unless you don’t actually need the armor and it just aesthetic. June and Thetis, on the other hand, are the perfect example of what you HAVE to do when designing armor for female characters, following the circumstances and the setting.

Thank you for reading my (way too long) essay. Have a good day.

#saint seiya #i cavalieri dello zodiaco #los caballeros del zodiaco #os cavaleiros do zodiaco #knights of the zodiac #the lost canvas #silver saints #bronze saints #eagle marin #ophiuchus shaina #crane yuzuriha

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fizzydrink698 · 2 years

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So sorry for yet another abo q 😅

I was just wondering about the culture around biting - are omegas judged if they don’t have a bite after a certain age (especially men since their whole thing is *seduction*)? Or if they have too many overlapping bites? Is the judgement worse and/or different for each gender (like it is with human virginity)? Was there any kind of no-bite-before-marriage thing going historically?

Also were there any people that are trying to make biting no longer a thing? I’m just wondering if some omegas feel weird about being expected to wear their sex lives on their necks at a certain point in their relationships when alphas don’t have to (particularly if they’re already over-sexualized) -🍁

never apologise for lore questions! i love lore questions 🥰🥰 you’ll see just how much i rambled under the cut, wow. you brought history into this, i couldn’t help myself 😭

ok, so let’s break this down into mini questions! 😊

are omegas judged for not having bites after reaching a certain age?

well, here’s the thing about bites. while the neck is the most common place for them, they can be anywhere on the body. so if the average stranger sees an omega with no visible bites, it’s very logical to just subconsciously assume it might be in a more discreet place. a shoulder, a wrist, chest, inner thigh. that kind of thing.

it’s not the most immediate thing someone thinks when meeting an omega - in the same way that in real life, most people don’t immediately go “wedding ring? where??” if you have it, you have it. but not being able to see it immediately doesn’t really tell you anything.

but when you do actually know that omega, and you know they haven’t had a mating bite, the reactions can differ. there can be judgement bc “wow, they reached that age without one?” there can be sadness bc “they haven’t found someone special yet? 🥺” and there can, in some cases, be some jealousy. a wistful “i wish i could have been like them. not just thrown myself into a bite. been more patient, been able to see that a relationship was obviously going to end.”

do omegas get judged if they have ‘too many’ bites?

interesting question. when it comes to modern-day omegas, i would say…yes, but not in the same way an irl person gets judged for “too many” (in air-quotes, bc there is no such thing) sexual partners. a closer equivalent would be an irl person who’s had like seven whirlwind failed engagements. or an irl person who says “i love you” on the third date every single relationship, no matter how short. you would get the impression that this omega rushes into things, rather than “this omega’s a bit of a slut”. in the past, however, this is a little different bc antiquated sexual views. history was a little slut-shamey.

on the plus (?) side, judgement doesn’t really change for either gender in this scenario. like, maybe omega men are “expected” to have a few more than omega women. bc omega men are the “seducey” type, while omega women are more “delicate, innocent, pursued by the alphas” type.

also, a fun side note. i kind of imagine that you can pick up the general scent of an alpha from the bite. like, you can track down which alpha did that bite. and back in the day, if all of a sudden a load of omegas are walking around the village with bites from the same alpha, that alpha would almost definitely be judged just as, if not more, harshly than the omegas. they deceived these poor omegas into thinking they were special mates forever and ever.

was there ever a “no-bite-before-marriage” rule in history?

excellent question for the history nerd! that would depend entirely on the era and place we’re talking about. immediate ones that jump out at me:

victorian era is like peak prudish, puritanical, “no-bite-before-marriage. and no visible bites either, the scandal”

ancient greece could not give less of a fuck. bite whoever. except sparta. in sparta, alphas are obligated to serve in the military, and they can’t even live with their spouses until they turn thirty, so biting is probably not a thing. same thing with ancient rome, they couldn’t marry until military service was done, so no biting either. (but also, irl sparta has some historical evidence that points towards poly being a genuine thing in spartan society - men had multiple wives, and some women had multiple male partners to help procreation. so, like, a poly a/b/o set-up is not unheard of in sparta. add it to the canon debate about monogamy vs polygamy i mentioned that one time in instinct.)

france c. 1600-1770? bite WHOEVER the fUCk yOu LiKE. in the aristocracy at least. same with england in the first half of this period, to a lesser extent. this is the age of the libertines, and libertines FUCK. but then post-1770s france, anti-monarchy/aristocracy resentment means this lax view on biting is rejected. it becomes almost a political statement. i’m imagining marie antoinette libelles printed everywhere, speculating who she ‘lets’ bite her, depicting her with every inch of her visible skin with bite marks on. honestly, the shit they said about marie antoinette irl makes me cringe at the thought of what a/b/o could throw in there.

but generally, the rule was probably “you only bite of you have the intention of marrying your partner”. and it was generally more of an issue amongst the upper classes than it was with the general population.

are people trying to make bites not a thing anymore?

hmm. it’s difficult to say. i think bites aren’t necessarily viewed with immediately sexual connotations. it’s like…almost like a promise ring? a pre-engagement engagement ring? idk. a “this person had sex, but it’s an intimate relationship kind of sex” sign.

i definitely think people are trying to make it less of a thing. it’s a clear example of alpha-omega inequality, since only omegas get these bites and the idea of omega as “property” is very, very old-fashioned at this point. but i think, in a weird way, there are probably more people walking around with visible bites. it’s more acceptable now for omegas to have multiple relationships in their life (as is the case for irl people) so naturally, of course bites are more commonplace - which makes it harder for people trying to get rid of them.

also, it’s a very instinctive (ayyyy) thing to do. alphas want to bite the person they love. omegas want to be bitten by the person they love. it’s not a black-and-white issue.

fun side-note: it’s absolutely canon that around the second half of the twentieth-century, it became super popular for alphas to get a tattoo of their omega’s bite. like a cute lil “yay, i can now get a permanent thing too!” as tattoo parlours became more and more accessible. idk, i find that idea quite cute.

#🍁 anon #i hope i got my history right #did sparta conscript youths?#maybe i should Google this #nah #wow if you haven’t read under the cut these tags must be WILD to you #enjoy

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thecleverdame · 3 years

Text

The High Tower - One

Summary: Unable to find a suitable mate, your father places you under a spell meant to keep you asleep until your true match is found. Years later, when Sam discovers you in the high tower, he has no idea the upheaval it will cause between your two kingdoms.

Rapunzel meets Sleeping Beauty meets the Winchesters.

Story Master List

Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Talk of dubcon, heats, ruts, all sorts of smut, violence.

Beta: ilikaicalie

Chapters 1-5 are currently available on my Patreon.

Once upon a time, your eyes were wide open.

Everyone in the kingdom knew you were an Omega the moment your parents announced they had a baby girl. It was the way of things. Your mother was an Omega too. She was a nurturing caring woman, a queen, who gave her husband nine children, eight sons, all Alphas. And just when they thought she was done having babies you came along.

It felt right to have a little girl with a league of older brothers to protect her. For a long time, life was perfect. You were smart and bubbly, just as happy in the mud as you were riding a horse.

Time passed. You grew older. And as you aged your parents prepared for the day you would need an Alpha. They took care to pick a good man. A confident but gentle son from an excellent family that would be able to give you the life you were accustomed to.

Then came your first heat, the agony of all-consuming need that your husband - your Alpha - should have been able to satisfy. But he could not. You spent a week in pure torture. Suffering you would later describe like a bug having its legs pulled off.

After three heats and three months of spine-curling pain, your father decided an unconventional decision needed to be made. Your marriage was dissolved and the hunt began to find an Alpha. A mate who could give you what you needed.

Months of searching turned into years. You slowly began to suffer the effects of being unmated. Dreams of children gave way to simply staying alive.

When it became clear that your life was in jeopardy, your father had a spell cast. A spell that ensured you would stay in painless sleep until a suitable mate was found. Then you were hidden in a tower along the southern border.

More time passed. And the urgent search felt much less urgent to those who tucked you away. So a year became two, then three and before anyone realized a decade had gone by.

A Decade Later...

“I think there’s probably a good reason we can’t get through,” Sam offers, resting his arms over the horn of his saddle.

“I’m sure there is.” Dean reaches out with a gloved hand, poking at the invisible barrier that shimmers out in all directions the moment he makes contact. “It’s exactly why we should be interested.”

“If the map is correct we crossed into Karrstad an hour ago. We shouldn’t have crossed the border into their land. Now you want to dismantle a magic wall of questionable origin. What part of this seems like a good idea to you?”

Dean looks at Sam, shaking his head in annoyance.

“All of it.”

“Dean.” Sam dismounts his steed, venturing closer to his brother. “There’s been enough trouble. We don’t need to create more bad blood between us and them.”

“I’m not trying to poke the bear. I’m just interested in what the bear is hiding. What constitutes this kind of protection?” Dean gestures toward the shimmer. “They could be planning something. What if they’re hiding a weapon? I don’t think we have a choice. We have to take a peek.”

“I don’t know…”

“Are you telling me you’re not interested? No one loves a mystery more than you.”

Sam is out of reasons to walk away. He helps Dean cast a simple spell, something they learned as boys. And with a puff of smoke and few holy words, the barrier fades away and they venture on with eyes peeled.

The terrain in Karrstad isn’t much different than home, except here there are more trees and less open fields. Thick forests of green and brown that shield them from the sun as they ride onward. It’s not long before the narrow path opens back up, the sun shining down and a strange sight in the distance.

“What in the hell is that?” Dean’s awestruck, tipping his head back.

They both look upward at a tower so high it’s impossible to see the top. It seems to end above the clouds.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Sam cranes his neck, trying to imagine what could be up there.

“Why would this be out here in the middle of nowhere? No guards as far I can see.”

“They probably thought a magical wall was enough to keep people out,” Sam reasons.

“Not us.”

Dean guides his horse out in front and they approach slowly expecting to spot a soldier in the distance but there’s nothing. They walk right up the base of the tower. There’s a thick wooden door that looks as if it hasn’t been opened since the structure was erected.

“Shall we?” Dean nods to Sam and together they work to pry open the door. A breath of cool, musty air hits them in the face as the tower is unsealed.

Inside there’s nothing more than stairs that spiral upward until they disappear from sight.

“What the hell?” Dean looks at Sam, who’s already calculating how far up the climb would be. “We have to find out...don’t we?”

Sam wants to argue, but the adventurer within him wants to know just as badly as Dean. Maybe more. A tower cloaked in magic, seemingly forgotten for God knows how long, is something one doesn’t come across every day.

“That’s a long way up.” Sam steps out of the entryway.

“How far do you think?”

“I have no idea. A long, long way.” Sam pulls off his riding gloves and looks to his brother. “Should we go?”

“I don’t think there’s any need for both of us to go.” Dean shrugs, pulling a small leather pouch from his pocket and pulling out a dice. “Let’s roll for it. Loser makes the climb.”

“I suppose.”

Over an hour later Sam reaches the peak. He’s sweating and out of breath. Truth be told there was a point when he wasn’t entirely sure if he was going to make it at all.

It’s just as he steps on the landing at the top that he smells it. The ever so faint scent of an Omega.

Omega.

He thinks. What would an Omega be doing all the way up here? It’s likely someone hid something with the scent still on it. That would make more sense.

There’s only one place to search. To his right is a large wooden door. He carefully, slowly pushes it open to reveal the last thing he would have ever imagined.

It appears to be a bedroom with narrow windows every few feet. In the center of the room is a four-post bed with a woman laying on it. You. Your hands are crossed carefully over your chest. Lying peacefully under a light blanket.

Has he discovered a dead body? Is this tower just an elaborate tomb? No. He can smell you now, the scent growing stronger. It’s much too sweet to be a corpse.

Sam inches closer, leaning forward to inspect. You’re beautiful and appear to be near his age. Perhaps a little younger. Your chest softly rises and falls with your breath. He wishes Dean were here.

“Hello?” he says.

When there’s no answer he draws closer, quietly making his way until he leans against the bed frame.

“Excuse me...I don’t want to wake you but...madame, are you alright?”

There’s nothing. Your body is still and the room silent as the grave. Perhaps he’s hallucinating your breath, seeing what he wants to see. After a few more minutes of silent observation, he reaches out to check for a pulse.

The instant his fingers touch the skin of your wrist he knows three things; you’re alive, you’re nearly in heat, and your pussy smells more enticing than any woman he’s ever come across in his life.

“Oh,” you murmur, head falling to the side. Your body twitches and he pulls his hand away.

“Madame,” he starts again, falling silent when you begin to stir.

You look like something out of a storybook. A breathtaking woman gently blinking awake as if you’re opening your eyes for the very first time.

“Ahum,” he clears his throat in the hope of not scaring you half to death.

#sam winchester x reader #alpha sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #alpha!sam x omega!reader #sam winchester au

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not-poignant · 11 months

Note

Gwyn/Temsen anon. Sorry if it felt like pushing for another Gwyn story, but hilariously as much as I love Gwyn I wanted Temsen focused story where we got to see them both hiccup and thrive in a relationship. His partner being Gwyn was just the cherry on the sundae. Thanks for taking the time to reply, your other characters are not veggies.

Hi hi!

Tbh idk that it would be much of a 'relationship.' I ship them, but I don't think it would be a particularly nice ship. Temsen is very seriously not invested in any kind of emotional caretaking in his personal life that isn't connected to say, someone like Gary. He's not very kind to his lovers, and he specifically looks for conquests. He would enjoy taking Gwyn down, forcing him to confront reality, and then being like 'welp, that was fun :) I have people's lives to look after.'

I think that's the thing with things I sort of headcanon but don't plan on writing is also that a lot of the time it's because I don't necessarily imagine that relationship thriving or having a happy ending? Which again, doesn't mean it can't, just that it's not my headspace!

Temsen's already thriving. Putting him in a relationship is like...going to do the opposite of that to his life :D And I love him for it. And Gwyn being topped by a peak alpha is great to imagine, but idk how many times I can completely shatter his psyche, esp with a character who has almost no interest in repairing the damage because the damage was kind of the point. x.x

I love Temsen, but he's far more responsible in his role as a healer, and I think sometimes he treats alphas the way 'bad alphas' treat omegas on purpose, to deal with some of his rage. Gwyn's a perfect target for him, but 'target' is probably a better term for it than love interest fsdlakfjsdasd

#asks and answers #ohlo ohlo temsen #gwyn ap nudd #underline the black #it's what silvia and i have been talking about tbh #the absolute miserable noncon tragedy of it all #and how kind of semi-satisfying that would be #but also how it wouldn't make for like #a very good story necessarily #in that sense a *happy* relationship for them is way better as a headcanon for other folks #and thanks for your kind words anon!#i just get asked an awful lot about gwyn and augus stories the most #sometimes it feels pretty terrible to keep saying no sdlkfjsa

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ohnojustimagine · 4 years

Text

Heated

The Shield/Reader, with a focus on Roman/Reader; 3500 words, smut smut smut

This is A/B/O, but kind of... just the bits of A/B/O I enjoy. So like, heats and lots of come but no knotting.

(And theoretically there is supposed to be a part 2 to this, but yeah, given my record on that, who knows.)

It's always embarrassed you, how irregular your heat cycle is. Other omegas seem to be able to predict the timing of their heats down to the day, marked safely on the calendar so they can plan ahead, but your own seem to ebb and flow, as if your cycle has a mind of its own.

And the worst of it is that your heats come on hard and fast, so fast that you've often ended up in awkward, sometimes even dangerous situations, unprotected by an alpha when in full heat, unable to isolate yourself.

Most of the alphas you've been with have hated it, dumping you when they can no longer handle the rollercoaster that is your cycle; always putting the blame squarely on you, too prideful to admit they're not up to the task of dealing with it.

But Roman, Seth and Dean are different. They seem to take it all in stride, always managing to somehow get you through your heat even if the timing isn't ideal, finding ways to work around any awkwardness. And the care and understanding they show has meant you've bonded with all three of them on a level that's deeper than you would have ever imagined you're capable of.

Tonight you're in the Shield's private locker room as they gear up ready for a six man tag match, and you haven't felt quite right all day, but you've been so busy that you haven't paid much attention, vaguely assuming it's simply exhaustion.

But then suddenly you start to feel dizzy, faint enough that you have to sit down, your skin tingling hot, a light buzzing sound in your ears, as if the air of the room is vibrating around you.

"Oh, god," you say, closing your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying not to start crying, because the timing couldn't be worse, and you hate this about yourself, that you can't control it in any way.

"What's wrong, baby?" Roman asks you, frowning. He takes a step towards you, and you hear him breathe in, the change in your scent already obvious. "Ohhh," he says. "Another heat."

"Again?" Seth says, incredulous, and though he doesn't exactly sound displeased Roman still shoots him a sharp look, shushing him.

"It's okay," he tells you, sitting down next to you, wrapping one big arm around you, kissing the top of your head.

"But it's nearly time for your match," you say, utterly miserable.

"I know," Roman replies, rubbing your arm. "But it'll be okay, I promise."

"We got time to fuck her before we go out?" Dean asks, sounding eager.

"No." Roman shakes his head. "We'll need all our energy for the match." He strokes your hair, looking down at your affectionately. "You know you always drain us, baby, with how bad you need it."

"I'm so sorry, I..." You breathe in, because you're already struggling to concentrate, the ache inside you growing into an acutely insistent throb of need, wetness gathering between your legs. "I don't think I can be by myself. Not here." WWE is a hotbed of the most alpha of alphas, and you know that once anyone catches your scent, they'll be after you, unable to resist the lure of your heat.

"We'll lock the door," says Roman.

"You know we always make sure we have a secure room, just in case," Seth chimes in.

"You promise?" you ask anxiously.

"We promise, baby," Roman tells you.

"Wouldn't hurt to have a little extra insurance policy, though?" Dean suggests, and Roman nods, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze as he rises to his feet. He rummages through his bag, pulling out the chastity belt they'll often use on you when you're in heat. There's a small dildo attachment on the crotch of it, and you stand up, breathing in as you look at it.

Your clothes feel too hot and constricting on your body, like they're choking you, and you pull them off impatiently, not caring how you look, your t-shirt nearly getting stuck over your head, ignoring the sound of the zipper on your skirt ripping open, tossing it aside and stepping out of your panties.

You move your feet wider, biting down on the moan rising up in your throat as Roman walks around you, bending lower to guide the dildo inside you, getting it as deep as possible. And though it feels good, it's nowhere near big enough, you think, fretting a little as he fastens the belt into place, adjusting the straps, making sure you're comfortable. You exhale as the padlock on the front clicks into place, and Roman tugs on it, just to be sure.

The key is on a string that he loops around his neck, tucking it under his vest, out of sight.

"All safely locked away," he tells you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, and you whine as he pulls away, trying to hold onto him, but he peels you off him with a kindly smile.

"You good to go?" he asks Seth and Dean, who both nod.

"We're gonna be thinking about you," Seth tells you. "The whole time. Gonna be real hot to fuck you by the time we get back."

Dean inhales a deep breath, staring at you, lust in his eyes. "You sure we don't have time?" he asks, again. "Just a quickie to tide us over?"

"No," Roman replies firmly. "Got to do it right for her, you know that."

Dean shrugs, like he doesn't agree, but he doesn't say anything further, and Roman looks at you. "We'll be back as soon as we can," he assures you. "You just sit tight."

You nod, unable to even speak by now, watching them leave, closing the door behind them.

You note that Roman has locked it from both sides, and you know it's not that they don't trust you, it's just to make sure, but it's still humiliating, that you have to be contained like this, even if it is for your own good.

You throw yourself down on the couch, hand over your eyes, trying to breathe through it, need building inside you until you feel like you might explode, and you don't know how you're going to hold on.

You find a cloth, running it under the cold tap at the sink in the corner of the room and then folding it in half, pressing it to your forehead, dabbing it on your throat, your skin so hot it's almost burning, the coolness barely registering. You sigh, tossing the cloth aside, and pace up and down the room for a while, back and forth, counting your steps, but that only makes it worse, the dildo shifting inside you with every step. Your pussy is dripping wet, slick seeping out the sides of the belt, and you feel yourself clench involuntarily around the dildo, spasming helplessly. It's too small, you think, barely enough to fill you, and it's no good, anyway, because what you're craving inside you is come, alpha come, the only thing that can bring you even the slightest relief when you're in heat.

Your breasts are already starting to swell, firm when you touch them, your nipples taut and hard, and you lick your fingers, teasing the tight peaks, pinching them. You moan, too loud, you know, but you don't care, straddling the arm of the couch, rubbing yourself on it almost mindlessly, but you can't feel anything, the metal of the belt thick enough not to allow you any sensation. You groan in frustration, anger flaring inside you, childish resentment at the fact that your alphas aren't here to take care of you, and the logical part of your brain might know that's unreasonable, but your heat is taking over, and you can't think.

But then, out of nowhere, there's a sharp knock on the door and you jump up, guilty. Your heart races as you stand there, silent, watching as the door handle rattles, but the lock holds.

"Pretty baby," someone croons from outside in a sing-song voice. "I can smell you in there, sweet little omega all alone." You hear them suck in a deep breath, then exhale. "That's a nice heat you got going there, why don't you open the door for me, little one, and I'll give you what you need."

You stay frozen in place, barely daring to breathe, and the handle again rattles, this time with more force. You flinch as the surface of the door resounds with a violent kick, pressing your hand tight over your mouth so you don't gasp aloud, trembling with fear.

There's silence for a minute, and you dare to creep closer to the door, tiptoeing across the carpet, holding your breath. And you can hear something, rhythmic, small wet noises, and then there's a grunt, the sound of something spattering onto the door.

It drips down onto the floor, and you can smell it, and though it's not the same, not from your alphas, you're desperate enough that you let out a broken whine.

A laugh echoes from outside, and then the voice says, "Enjoy that, omega, and if you ever want a real alpha you can come find me anytime."

Footsteps echo away, and you back up into the furthest corner of the room, sinking down onto the floor, bending your knees up to your chest, tears running hot down your cheeks. You sob, quietly, and you don't know how much time passes, lost in your own private misery, but finally the door opens, and you look up, vision still blurred by tears.

Dean, Seth and Roman are standing there, staring at the door. "Gross," Dean comments.

"Seems like someone had themselves some fun," Seth says, shaking his head.

"Doesn't matter," Roman states. "As long as they stayed out." He walks towards you, asking, "You okay?" And you shake your head, hiccuping out one last sob. "Oh, baby," Roman says, giving you a concerned smile. "You're really not okay, are you?" He takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet.

"C'mon, man," Dean says, grabbing his crotch, rubbing at it. "Get that fucking belt off of her and I'll make her feel better than okay."

"Patience," Roman tells him, pulling the key out from under his vest.

"Yeah, fuck patience," Dean snaps back. "And just so you know, I'm going first."

"Why does he get to go first?" Seth complains.

"It doesn't matter who goes first," Roman says, calmly. "As long as we give her what she needs."

He carefully unlocks the belt, unfastening the straps, lifting it away from your body. You mewl at the feet of the dildo slipping out of your pussy, the thick scent of your heat suddenly filling the room, potent and undeniable. And all three of your alphas practically growl in desire, their spines straightening, standing tall and dominant, predatory instincts awakened, eyes flashing dark, but it's Dean that moves first, as promised, grabbing you. He drags you over to the table at the side of the room, shoving you down onto it face first, his hand tight on the back of your neck, your hips jammed up against the edge, digging into you. You feel him fumble with his pants, barely able to wait, wailing in relief as his cock sinks into you, fucking you, pumping hard.

"Oh, fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You moan, trying to push your hips back into him, pussy tightening rhythmically around him, keeping time with his thrusts, the need of your heat as if trying to pull his orgasm out of him, hungry for his come.

And it doesn't take long for him to finish, letting out a guttural, bitten-off moan as he comes, shooting thick and hot inside you, spurt after spurt, and it feels so good, but it's not enough, barely beginning to slake the thirst of your heat.

He pulls out of you, and Seth's right there, roughly flipping you over onto your back. He lifts up your legs, your ankles resting on his shoulders as he plows his cock into you, deep and hard and fast, holding on to your legs, his teeth gritted, face twisted up in desire.

His hips piston, thrusting with enough violence that you have to hold on to the edges of the table, your head rolling back, chest arching up towards him, your body begging for what you need.

And you see him close his eyes, tensing as his orgasm hits him, his cock releasing inside you, alpha come filling you yet again, but it only seems to make you want more.

His cock slips out of you, and you slide down onto the floor, legs so weak you doubt they could hold you, but Roman's sitting on the couch, waiting, and he beckons to you. "Come here, my sweet girl," he says, and you crawl over to him, letting him help you up into his lap, facing him, sitting astride his thighs. His hands are on your waist, pulling you up onto your knees, closer to him so your breasts are right in his face, and he nuzzles at them, humming in delight.

They're even more swollen now, taut and tender as he kisses your skin, licking, sucking on the hard peaks of your nipples, so sensitive it's almost unbearable.

It forever astonishes you that he can take his time with you like this when you're in heat, because the man has self-control like no alpha you've ever known, but Roman's special, always worth the wait even if right now you're too impatient to think about anything but his cock.

He gets one hand between your legs, pushing his palm firm up against the fullness of your clit, and you rut yourself on it, your hips working, feeling Seth and Dean's come leaking slowly out of you, gasping as Roman's teeth sink into the flesh of your breast, biting down hard enough to mark you.

You whine as he removes his hand, your hips still moving helplessly even though all that's there now is now empty air, and he kisses your mouth, tongue teasing frustratingly light over your lips.

"Yeah, you want Daddy's cock, don't you?" he murmurs. "Need more of that alpha come."

You nod at him, wide-eyed and desperate, and he smiles at you, hauling you up off his lap.

He sets you down on the floor, on your knees, turning you around so you're facing the couch, arms braced on the edge of the seat in front of you, and you arch your spine, your knees apart, pussy wet and hungry for him.

You pant, barely able to control your breathing you're so dizzy with anticipation, but then Roman slides into you, cock thick and slow, filling you up until you feel like you can't take anymore, and when he's as deep as he'll go, bottomed out inside you, he stops, not moving.

You're whining with every exhale, shaking all over, but Roman can't be rushed.

"Yeah," he says, softly. "So tight, aren't you?" He shifts himself slightly, and you moan at the feel of it. "Never had an omega like you, baby girl, full in heat but so hot and tight on my cock." He lets out a breathless, careless laugh, and you feel tears burning hot in your eyes, your whole being consumed with nothing but want. "Fuck you all night and that sweet pussy will still try and milk me for more."

You squirm, trying to move yourself on him, but he's ruthlessly unyielding, a solid wall behind you.

"You need to let go," he orders, gently yet firmly, "and let me take care of you." He rests one hand in the curve of your back, just above your ass, and you focus on your breath, inhaling and then exhaling, knowing that you have to stop fighting it, that you need to surrender, give yourself and your heat over to him, submit to the will of a true alpha.

You feel your body start to relax, trusting him, and it's only then that he starts to fuck you, slowly at first, but building in intensity and speed until he's pounding into you, holding onto your hips, your pussy so wet with slick that the noise of it seems to fill the room like something obscene.

Roman leans forward, hands either side of yours on the edge of the couch, his body over yours, broad chest pressed to your back. You feel as if you're being consumed by him, fucked until you're split wide open, nothing but a vessel for this need and when he finally comes it's like a rush, ecstasy and relief all at once, because this is what you've been craving, and you don't want it to ever stop, his cock pumping into you until you're so high you're not sure you'll ever come down from it.

But then at last he's done, pulling out of you, and you slump down, sitting on your heels on the floor, swaying slightly, the room feeling as if it's moving slowly around you. And Dean's already hard again, right there with his cock in your face. He gets one hand on your jaw, forcing your mouth open, pushing himself in past your lips, thrusting. And you're way too far gone to do anything but let him take what he needs, your heat meaning your throat is just as open as your pussy, and he goes deep, over and over until he's coming so hard that you struggle to keep up. You swallow as much as you can, lapping up the taste, the rest dripping warm down your chin.

He backs off, and you lean against the couch, exhausted, barely able to stay upright. And you can't even imagine the sight you must make, breathing hard, sweating, come and spit all over your face but Roman, Seth and Dean only gaze at you like you're the most beautiful thing they've ever seen.

"You want her again?" Roman asks Seth, who shakes his head.

"Nah, I'll wait," he says. "We should get on the road."

"Yeah, it's getting late," Dean agrees, and they begin to pack up their bags.

You sit quietly, watching, only standing up when Roman brings one of his hoodies over to you, helping you put it on. He knows it's uncomfortable for you to wear too many clothes when you're in heat, but you need to be covered, and the hoodie is soft, comfortingly imbued with his scent, big enough that it reaches mid-thigh on your smaller frame.

But Seth looks at you, frowning. "Should we clean her up a little first?" he asks. "Can we get her out of here like this?"

"She's fine," Roman replies, no trace of doubt in his voice.

"Everyone's gonna to be able to smell her," says Dean, sounding unsure. "I mean, every alpha in the place will be after her."

Seth smirks, laughing. "Might be fun to stir up some trouble with the opposition, boys."

"They know their place," Roman says. "She's ours." But then he frowns to himself. "Still," he adds, "better put this back on her." He picks up the chastity belt, taking off the dildo attachment, and then he seems to think for a moment before going through one of his bags, producing a small, remote-controlled vibe.

And you whimper in discomforted anticipation, because you know how that's going to feel inside you, your pussy already so overstimulated that it will be way too much for you to deal with.

"Just for on the ride, baby girl," Roman tells you. "Got to keep you nice and hot for us."

You shake your head no, pouting in distress.

"Hey," Roman says, firmly. "You need to trust us." He cradles your face in one hand, his thumb stroking tender across your cheek. "Don't we always take care of you?"

And you nod, biting your lip, knowing you need to accept his authority.

"Hold her," he directs Seth, who stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you. You squirm a little, whining in protest, but Roman pays no attention, pushing the vibe into your pussy. It slips in easily with how wet you are, nestling up against your walls, and you bite down on your bottom lip, breathing out, because even the presence of it inside you is reigniting the intensity of your heat, urges beginning to return in full force.

"Don't worry," Roman says with a smile, clearly observing your reaction, "we won't turn it on yet."

You shift restlessly as he and Seth help you into the chastity belt, fastening it, locking it tightly, securing you for no one's use but theirs, under their protection.

You breathe out as Roman drops a brief kiss on your lips before draping one arm protectively over your shoulders.

"Ready, boys?" he asks.

"Ready," Seth agrees.

"Always," Dean says.

"Then let's go," says Roman, and he opens the door.

#ohnojustwrites #wwe imagine #roman reigns #the shield #roman reigns imagine #the shield imagine #dean ambrose imagine #seth rollins imagine

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lillupon · 3 years

Note

*unearthly screeching sounds after chapter 12*

Don’t mind me, I’m just here to scream about what I think Mingyu’s POV during this chapter would be. When I wrote Mingyu’s POV for chapters 10 and 11, I left it at Wonwoo arriving at Walmart and left the rest to your imagination. But my own imagination has been running wild since then, lmao.

I keep imagining Mingyu loving their size difference. Whether it’s when they’re holding hands or when Wonwoo’s on his lap, or when they’re spooning. Even when Wonwoo ran smack into him at school. Wonwoo’s not a small man, by any means, towering over most people at school. No wonder people think he’s a beta. But he’s still so much smaller than Mingyu. Mr. Jeon.. Wonwoo (Mingyu’s still having some trouble with that).. can just nestle himself into Mingyu, and that pleases Mingyu more than it should. When he holds out his arm in invitation and Wonwoo settles there, fitting perfectly like a puzzle piece, Mingyu cannot help but think that he and the omega belong together. His omega, his mind supplies, though he tries to quell that thought. Still he can’t help but think that Wonwoo likes him back and they could have something, maybe even a loving relationship, something he hadn’t let himself hope for before.

I’ll bet Mingyu’s newfound kink is Wonwoo getting shy during sex. It made Wonwoo seem so incredibly sexy, without him even trying. Wonwoo could be sat on his cock, asking for Mingyu’s knot, or even just borrowing Mingyu’s hoodie, but he’d be so shy about it, it drove Mingyu crazy. Wonwoo drove Mingyu crazy. He could not believe this incredible, sexy, wonderful human wanted anything to do with him. The fact that Wonwoo liked him back, Mingyu didn’t know what he’d done to deserve such great fortune, but now that he had Wonwoo, he would never let him go.

Sitting in Wonwoo’s classroom as a student must’ve been hell. All Mingyu wanted to do was march up to the omega, and kiss him breathless. He had to settle for going to his classroom after school had finished, pretending to work on his homework while Wonwoo worked at his desk. He sneaked peaks at Wonwoo every now and then. His stomach would tie up in knots every time he saw Wonwoo looking back at him. When he could take it no longer, he went up to Wonwoo’s desk to ask him about a problem. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that Mingyu only went there to be closer to Wonwoo. He kept glancing at Wonwoo’s side profile, his straight nose, his beautiful monolid eyes, his kissable lips. It pained him to let Wonwoo leave without as much a peck on the lips. It was entirely unexpected and his mind blanked out when before leaving, Wonwoo kissed the corner of lips.

This is so long, lol! I’m so sorry!

No need to apologise for the lengthy Ask. I enjoyed reading this a lot (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡ As usual, we have the same brain! There are a few things you brought up in this that may or may not make it into future chapters of AEV. I’m not sure if these scenes will make the final cut, but if they don’t, I will post them as a bonus, of course! So for now, I won’t say too much about it.

But I will say YES! Mingyu loves the size difference. Wonwoo’s slender shoulders, delicate wrists, slim waist and thin ankles... The way Wonwoo just fits himself into Mingyu’s size like he belongs there...

^ This is the kind of size difference I’m talking about! Like Wonwoo isn’t even that much shorter than Mingyu, but the fact that he has to get up on his tippy toes is just !!!! Oh my god, it makes Mingyu go stupid ･ﾟ･(｡>ω<｡)･ﾟ･ It makes me go stupid, too, for that matter LOL

#asks #aev bonus

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omegatheunknown · 3 years

Text

AEW Double or Nothing 2021

In which the spirit of WCW is alive in confusing and delightful ways and we are left to parse whether overbooking and extracurriculars are offset by having actually very good wrestling happening at the same time.

- Lessons learned from Revolution on the production side? Maybe just cool it on pyro, though the rappelling adventure in the Stadium Stampede showed some of that now-characteristic 'trust us it'll look better on TV' flair. Hot crowd tends to paper over most woes, and the crowd was pretty hot. My one gripe is that the casino theme is hanging around like yesterday's takeout containers. Nothing wrong with clinging to a theme, I just think it's time for season 2. My suggestion? Under the Sea.

*Pre-Card Serena Deeb (C) v Riho for the NWA Women's Championship (***1/2) - Serena Deeb's star has finally risen. She's a remarkably consistent technician and she can get a match out of anyone at this point. She's working at the level of Mercedes Martinez or Madison Eagles at this point, it's amazing that she was overlooked or considered fit only to be a coach for so long. With the NWA belt she has this new swagger, she's basically everything Tessa Blanchard might bring to the table with none of the downsides (Serena has a lot of friends and seems like a lovely person, even!) - Riho's back and here to stay. Her time in Stardom didn't do much for my evaluation of her, which is that there are many better wrestlers that would be better representatives of the joshi style and she's merely pretty good. - The match was very good. Serena showcased a champion's aggression against a sympathetic Riho, they really work well against each other, Deeb's technical prowess against Riho's flexibility led to a very dynamic finish.

*Main Card Hangman Adam Page v Brian Cage (***1/2) - Here the shenanigans start. Brian Cage is on Team Taz, Team Taz has nothing else much to do tonight, so why wouldn't Team Taz flex their muscles, bait us with HOOK, etc? (Because it would be nice to have some variety in the card in terms of a match where one competitor stands across from another competitor?) - Hangman is (checking notes) yeah, still over as fuck, as befits the Anxious Millennial Cowboy. Cage terrifies me, he's a child's drawing of a body builder. He do be very agile for a man of his immense musculature tho. They match up well, Page is biggish for a flyer, Cage loves to play catch. Nothing much to write home about, other than Hangman's beautiful moonsault to the floor and what was overall a very good curtain jerker. - Okay fine, I am curious about Cage's reluctance to lean on the goons, Starks can't come back soon enough.

The Young Bucks v Jon Moxley & Eddie Kingston (***) - I will not be referring to Mox & Eddie as (The) Wild Things because it gives me 'he calls it the wacky line' flashbacks for some reason. - The Bucks have to cheat and abuse Rick Knox's attention span constantly to be on even footing with Mox & Eddie, which is a clever sort of thing that gets washed out by the appearance of LG and Karl Anderson, which again, is cool in a vacuum but was the story of the evening. - Pace was weird - repetitive in eliminating Eddie, then Mox fights back, failed hope spot, Bucks team up, Eddie saves x2/3 in a row. - Mox, unlike Cody (in so many ways,) will probably actually be taking some time off with Renee, which is the kind of thing I would prefer not to know in terms of booking, but they really uh, put him down on the canvas here, and it felt pretty finale-esque.

Casino Battle Royale (n/r, but on the balance pro) - Any changes to the theme of the PPV would likely include changing up the nonsense suit format of these largely joyless slogs. - Obviously anticipating a NJPW talent, or... I dunno, actually -- Lio Rush was a surprise. Got in a quick demonstration of his otherworldly quickness, and you know what, there's probably a fun place for him in AEW. He'll need some friends, of course, feel like Team Taz might fit his temperament. I wonder if he was aware of the Mark Henry news... - Christian does not need to win this kind of match to get a title shot, obviously, but that said it was super lovely to use him to give Jungle Boy the shine. Jungle Boy would be a license to print money if he was even as big as Hangman. - Could register some continued griping about how Penta is not getting his due in AEW but he also literally was dressed as the Joker so I'm low on sympathy on this one particular night.

Anthony Ogogo v Cody Rhodes (*) - I did not like this. It's hard for me to read jingoism as a face move to begin with, and Cody's was egregiously tone deaf and kinda silly yet delivered without a trace of irony because Cody doesn't do irony on purpose, ridiculous neck tattoo aside. - Great argument to be made that Ogogo just isn't experienced enough to be winning matches against Cody. But like, what are we doing here? Cody needs to take some time off, maybe. I thought that's what was happening when he had his mini feud with Penta that really just ended in quick decisive Cody win. I though maybe Cody was being turned when QT and The Factory snapped-- sure, they're a group of impotent player 2s, but Cody is an out of touch elitist with a callous and manipulative streak. Alas, also no. America #1. - Cody is approximately 8 times as tough as Billy Gunn based on his weathering of the one punch man. Match ran a bit long given how little there was to go on. Cody gigged? Quelle surprise. - Cody had the best match on the card like, 3 out of the first 4 AEW events or something, and that was all booking and storytelling. I do hope Cody follows Moxley's lead into a little sabbatical.

Miro (C) v Lance Archer for the TNT Championship (**1/2) - Card's hossiest hoss match, a quick burst reminiscent of a car wreck. Absolutely hit on what it should've hit on but a little slow moving considering it went all of 10 minutes. - I will not complain about Jake the Snake, who I love. And also the gimmick spot, with Miro very astutely yeeting what was definitely a snake in a bag (surely.) back down the tunnel.

Dr Britt Baker, DMD v Hikaru Shida (C) for the AEW Women's Championship (***) - Picked up a lot of steam toward the end but seemed a little toothless (heh) until the last five. - Shida 'deserved' some more time as champion in front of crowds but also it's time to let heel Britt reach her peak, I can't even imagine how obnoxious she can be as the champ, it's going to be great.

Sting & Darby Allin v Ethan Page & Scorpio Sky (***1/2) - Such is the power of STING that I feel like I might be underrating this match... I mean it was an okay match about very simply getting some revenge and the sixty year old man did a very subdued Code Red and a slightly less subdued dive. He's also Sting. They missed an opportunity in calling it the 'Scorpio' Death Drop, but the main takeaway here is you see something like this where it's The Icon and you start to understand why WWE trots out their legends to come out of incredibly still kick ass without bending their knees. - The difference, I guess, is that Sting is absolutely being used to build up Darby Allin, whereas it's not like the fed brought back Goldberg and his attendant aura to pump up... anyone but Goldberg?

Kenny Omega (C) v PAC v Orange Cassidy for the AEW World Championship (****) - Off the top I have to say I'm very sad that the rest of the Galaxy's Greatest Friends were seen only very briefly, nice of them to bring OC's backpack. - Also have to point out that PAC's promo featured one of my favourite jokes, that Kenny must be short for Kenneth as a sort of legal/birth name belonging to a professional wrestler. (See also: Samoa Joseph) - And Mr Cassidy certainly did try in this match, ragdoll sells and all. Kenneth and PAC are absurd talents who bring aerial, power and technical maneuvers in equal measure and OC is not doing any of those on the same level, but he picked his spots, showed his genre savvy and hung in there to the point that he wasn't just the fall guy. - The extracurriculars continue in a match that was already a little overboard for silliness due to asymmetry... I think if you're the Invisible Hand it would've made sense to save up all your tricks for this match, but who am I to question the golden goose? - Sure, Kenny and Don ran the classic heel manager interference spot and taking out the ref in desperation spot but having to take out the ref because PAC wouldn't break the hold is fun, as is the stupid/inspired sense in running the 'smash opponent with the belt' spot four times so as none of your heavy gold prizes feel left out. (I love that AAA Mega Championship, they weren't on TV so we get to see it?) - "Fuck You, Don," indeed.

The Inner Circle v The Pinnacle in 'Stadium Stampede II' (***1/2) - This one had to grow on me for two reasons, first that it's usually pretty unforgivable to co-opt the main event spot from the championship match, and second to law of diminishing returns on dumb gimmick matches. - But grow it did. There's a full on meat locker? Commentary will refer to a cardboard cut-out of Shahid Khan as Tony Khan's father (that's canon now,) and Jericho will lovingly pat it? Konnan happened to be the DJ at whatever night club there is a Jaguar Stadium? Spears surrounds himself dramatically with chairs and his hoisted by his own petard? - Ultimately it comes down to letting Sammy shine. His involvement with the Inner Circle has sometimes come at the cost of being able to showcase that prior to AEW he was an ascendant talent in PWG, on his way to Ricochet level feats of acrobatic excess. Still feel like Sammy could've/should've been the one tossed off the cage a few weeks ago, but even better is being the guy getting the pin in the ring.

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lihikainanea · 3 years

Note

Tiger and Bill going to stay at an Air Bnb for the weekend of Valentine’s day except it’s the house that no one wanted. It’s in the middle of the woods, just surrounded by baby animals that are tended to by a local farmer who’s house is far enough away for privacy. Bill will wake up in the middle of the night, trying to feel his Tiger and he peaks his head out a window, seeings her beyond the fence, petting the cows and holding a baby lamb. He would scold her because it’s cold and she needs sleep, but ya know what? Fuck it, he throws on pants and a shirt and goes out, picking up the baby duckling chirping at his feet.

this is...oh my god, this is everything I want, sweet nani.

Can you imagine? I’ll bet maybe tiger always has a hard time sleeping around a full moon, or maybe when the sky is just so clear and the night is so bright and she can see Orion, staring back at her. It should soothe her--and it does--but tiger can never sleep on nights like that. There’s a pull inside of her, to nights like this--a pull to the moon, in all of its glory--and Bill knows that. He loves her for it.

Bill can almost always tell when a full moon is coming--not by the lunar schedule, not at all--but just by watching his girl. He swears sometimes that she’s just impossible magic, there is something not of this world about her--and he knows where she gets it from.

There was something incredibly not of this world about Granny, too.

Tiger gets restless, she gets fussy, but there’s also just this weird....peace about her. Bill has noticed that she always talks about Granny more in those times, has dreams about her, will start cooking some of the things that Granny liked to cook.

So maybe it just so happens that Valentine’s Day this year kind of coincides with a full moon, which MAY or may not have been Bill’s motivating factor to book them a real secluded spot, way out in the country side, with any a city light around to obstruct the beautiful sky. And listen, that night--uhh, it was intense. Bill really took it out of her, and maybe he did that because he knew she’d have some trouble sleeping--so he made sure she was basically fucking comatose.

But when he rolled over in the middle of the night, looking to curl into her softness and sniff at her neck because she always smells so incredible--maybe he’s a little surprised to be met with nothing but empty sheets under his hand. Maybe he’s not surprised at all. His girl--man, she’s otherworldly you know? Deep down he knows she’s safe here, but he also needs the confirmation so he sighs, rubs the sleep from his eyes, pulls on his pajama bottoms as he all but oozes out of bed.

He knows where she is. He knows she’s not in the kitchen, or on the balcony. He knows she’s smack in the middle of the field, as close to the moon as she can get.

And that’s exactly how he finds her.

She’s in the middle of a field, and these gigantic cows are moo-ing all around her but tiger is just kind of stroking them as they go by, giving them a few soft pets. He smirks as the goats bleat angrily, wanting some attention too, and he watches as tiger heads over to them--her face still turned up to the moon’s light--and rests her arms on their little wooden fence. A baby kid bleats, bows a little, then takes a running charge and headbutts her shin. He can hear her musical laugh as she bends, coos at it, and it jumps up into her waiting arms.

She hears the screen door close but she doesn’t turn--she doesn’t need to. And soon enough, a warm chest is pressed against her back, a nose in her hair nuzzling her above her ear.

He doesn’t ask why she’s up. He knows why. Instead, he just kisses her gently on the shell of her ear.

“You okay?” he murmurs. She leans back without turning, rests her back on his chest and his arms envelop her. The baby goat bleats again, sniffs at him curiously.

“Yeah,” she says, scritching the little kid, “I just....I...”

“I know.”

He holds her like that for awhile, just keeps her in his arms as both look up to the sky. The goat fidgets eventually, starts to flail a little, and tiger sets him down with a sigh.

“It’s actually pretty mild out tonight,” Bill says, “I have an idea.”

It’s only then that tiger turns to him, and Bill swears there’s nothing earthly about her. There can’t be, he’s never been more convinced. Tiger is chaos and cosmos, she’s all the elements combined, she’s alpha and omega and everything in between. She kisses him softly, and he has to steady his own heartbeat.

“Yeah?” she asks, but Jesus he already forgot what the hell he was talking about.

“Yeah,” he says after a beat, shaking his head of the fog, “Wait here.”

He goes inside, gathering up as many blankets as he can. He grabs her a sweater, too. A few pairs of socks. Heading outside, he deposits them on one of the balcony lounge chairs--and then drags it out from under the canopy, carries it right down to the stairs. He lights the outdoor fireplace, setting the blankets up on the chair and then beckons her over. He lays down, and she curls up there on his chest as he wraps all of the blankets around them. Tucking her head under his chin, she kisses him softly as he piles all the warmth around her.

“I’ve got promises to keep,” she mumbles into his neck.

“And miles to go before I sleep,” he hugs her in closer, wraps her up so tight in his arms, “Miles to go before I sleep.”

#bill skarsgard #BFF!Bill #granny #bill skarsgard drabble #soft bill

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spacesnail3000 · 4 years

Text

Let It Snow Chapter 3/4: And Since We’ve No Place To Go

Pairing: Steve x Reader (No use of Y/N)

Summary: She was his Omega, and Steve had a plan. She would love him. He knew she would.

Word Count: 3,658

Warnings: Intense noncon (turns into dubcon) smut, breeding kink, knotting, ABO/heat cycles; stomach distention (idk the thing where you see the dick in the stomach; size kink? is it size kink?), dirty talk, kind of manipulation bc of Alpha/Omega instincts, idk it’s all shady, Steve is a shady man

A/N: Hello, I know everyone has been eagerly waiting for this next chapter!! I'm so sorry for the delay; I have been studying for the NCLEX and it's taken a serious chunk of time out of my life, bc I want to pass so that I can finally be a nurse. So that has kind of taken priority over writing for the time being. Because of that, I don't expect to have another chapter out until after I pass, which (hopefully) should be next Friday. I expect to get the next chapter out sometime the week after that. Thank you again to @jessieray98 my beta reader!

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Steve pressed his body flush against her now, and she was able to fully feel the outline of his hard cock against her. It had been hard for so long—painful and aching, waiting to get inside this sweet Omega—that he groaned at the feeling of it pressed against her, relief in the soft pressure of her belly.

“Wait—Captain Rogers—”

Shaking his head, he chuckled and pushed his body harder against hers, unable to resist anymore. “Sweet Omega—precious girl… Let me show you.”

It was easy to nudge her hand away from her stomach and press his hand against her instead, right on her pelvis, where he could feel blood pulsing and churning, readying her body to carry life. The sensation of his body so close to hers, only separated by the thin fabric of her dress, the way it eased the cramping and contracting of her womb—she couldn’t help but moan, sweet relief and warmth washing through her stomach.

“C-captain,” she stammered, body practically convulsing against him. Oh, he loved it when she called him that. “I don’t—I need—I need—" As she whimpered her denial of him, her body giving conflicting messages. Her pelvis pressed forward against his hips, trying to get closer, while her hands pressed against his broad shoulders, trying in vain to push him away.

His other hand still rested on the back of her neck, but it smoothed up the back of her head, fingers winding into her hair and gripping hard, tilting her head to the side to present her scent glands to him. They were beautifully flushed, contrasting against the color of her skin, and puffy, swollen, exuding the most delicious smell. He slowly leaned his head forward, nose brushing from her ear, down her neck, to the join of her neck and shoulder, pressing his nose against that hypersensitive gland.

The sensation made her squirm, drew a frail whimper from her lips, a helpless little sound, his helpless Omega. Steve breathed her scent in, mind reeling at finally being able to scent her straight from the source.

She smelled like fresh, earthy herbs—basil and thyme—and something sweet, floral, like lavender. Then there was something distinctly her, something a little musky, maybe like vanilla, but deeper. He associated it with her arousal, like the sweet cum left on her pillow after she would bring herself to orgasm.

The feeling of his nose on her hardly prepared her for when his lips met her heated skin, tongue darting out to taste her skin, salty with sweat, the fresh scent of soap, a taste of the Mediterranean Sea. His tongue was so hot against her, so wet and soothing against her swollen glands, she couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath, something between a whimper and a moan.

And then he closed his lips around the puckered skin and sucked, sweet pressure torturing her, too much and not enough sensation all at once. “Oh—” she whimpered, grinding her hips against him, the hard line of his cock pressing painfully into her pubic bone.

Recognizing that his Omega needed some kind of relief, Steve shoved a knee between her legs, pressing his thigh up against the cleft between her thighs. The creamy folds of her skirt bunched up between them and he could feel that her slick had already soaked through her panties.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, scratching his nails gently along her scalp. At the same time, he took her hip in one hand and pressed her down against his thigh, letting her pussy drag against the rough fabric of his dress pants, just short of enough pressure to be satisfying.

Mind swirling, she was delirious with the sensations now, caught up between the lips on her neck, the pressure on her cunt, the hardness of his cock against her tummy, and the heat of his hands on her body. Momentarily, she relinquished herself to the feelings, letting him maneuver her hips until she was clenching her thighs around his, pressing down on his leg, grinding up against him—begging him for something, anything more.

“A-Alpha,” she cried, her body an object for him to manipulate as he worked towards his end goal. “Alpha, please, please—”

“Tell me what you need, Omega.”

“I need—I need—” she gulped. “I need to come—please.”

“Come on my thigh, sweetheart. Just one to take the edge off.”

“No—no—Alpha, I need more—”

He tightened his grip on her hair and pressed his thigh up harder against her. “Greedy girl,” he growled into her skin, teeth grazing against her scent glands, marking sharp scratches into the swollen tissue, and she sobbed. Tears fell down her cheeks, he could feel them dripping down her neck and wetting the side of his face. “My greedy little Omega… You’re gonna come on my thigh—and then I’m going to take you apart, piece by piece.” He licked her tears up, up her neck, her cheeks.

“Steve,” she whispered.

A few gentle kisses on her cheeks, her temples, her open lips, seemed to mollify her enough that she stopped struggling. “I want to taste you, your sweet little cunt. I’m gonna work you open, get you ready to take my cock. And then I’m going to fuck you, deep like your body needs me, and I’m gonna knot you. Oh, baby doll—I’m gonna keep you on my knot all day, just like you need—”

Steve wasn’t expecting her to come so abruptly, but she did, crying out into the air around them, tears still falling, thighs clenching down on his, body almost convulsing from the pleasure. Her fists knotted into his hair, holding him against her neck until she was finished, panting heavily against his skin, head rolling back, dazed.

Although he had sated her immediate pleasure, he knew it wouldn’t be long until she was begging for him again, writhing in pain. He managed to get her up the stairs and onto the mattress before she stirred again.

“Wait—” she muttered, still too boneless to fight him off.

“I’m not waiting anymore, Omega—this is what you need,” he growled against her neck. His fingers worked at the zipper of her dress, quickly pulling it off her shoulders and down her legs. The navy silk of her underwear didn’t match her lacy maroon bra, but she looked beautiful to him, dressed in red, white, and blue, his colors, like she wore it just for him.

“Steve—” she gasped, trying to cover her chest with her arms. “No, wait—Steve—”

It was unfortunate that she was still lucid enough to try and resist him. Soon enough she would realize again how much she needed his cock.

Slotting himself between her thighs, hips keeping her legs spread wide just for him, he began to scent her thoroughly. Rubbing his beard and scent glands against her chest and face, her neck, her shoulders—everywhere he could reach—intent on marking her as his, exuding enough strong dominant Alpha pheromones to temporarily calm her mind into surrender. With her hands pushing against him, it made his task difficult, so he pinned her wrists down with one strong hand.

He kissed along her breasts, fingers pulling down the straps of her bra so her shoulders were bare, then the cups so her breasts were naked for him. A quick press of his lips against her scent gland, and then he trailed down to her breasts, lapped his soft tongue gently at her nipples until she was moaning and pushing her chest up into him.

Her earlier protests soon died away as her need suddenly grew stronger, hands trembling with want as he held her tight, her body writhing against him. The vibrating in her skin returned as her arousal mounted, the tidal wave of her heat peaking once again. Instinct demanded his knot buried inside her, trapping his cock and his come deep within her cunt. It manifested as a feeling deep within her, an itch, an ache, one that she knew wouldn’t go away without something filling her up.

Although her mind resisted, her body knew what it needed. Her body knew it needed Steve’s thick Alpha knot filling her up; now that part of her overpowered her own will.

The press of his cock against her core through the fabric of their clothes made her whine for him, hips canting against his. He could smell her arousal, feel her plush flesh on his, so fucking sweet and intoxicating, it made his head swim.

“So soft,” he groaned against her flesh, teeth grazing her areolas and making her keen. “So pretty.” He could only imagine how they would swell for him, hold milk for their pups, how lovely they would be throughout her pregnancy.

“Steve, please—”

“Don’t worry, pretty little Omega,” he chuckled against the peak of her breast. “I’ll take care of you, love.”

“Please, please, please.” Her mindless begging made his cock twitch and ache with need. “Please, Alpha, please—”

“You beg so pretty, my darling.” He raised himself up on his knees above her, distancing their hips, much to her displeasure as she let out a soft sob and pouted up at him. One hand held her wrists together against her stomach while his other took her hip in a bruising grip, preventing her from making any movement towards him.

His eyes were trained on the damp spot on her panties, darkening the blue fabric to a glossy black, so much slick soaked through that the fabric shone from her wetness. He wanted to lick the fabric dry until the only thing he could taste was her cunt.

Gentle fingers skimmed across her pussy over the silk, rubbing just enough to make the fabric slip and slide over her labia, over her clit, everything so wet that it eliminated all friction on her sensitive flesh.

Another sob escaped her lips, wrists straining against his hold. Lost in her tortuous heat, she chanted for him. “Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, Alpha—”

“Beg for me, sweetheart,” he interrupted her mantra. “I want to hear you beg for me again.”

“Please,” she acquiesced at once, wincing as her uterus contracted, a mild cramp located in her core. “Please, oh please, please Alpha, I need you—”

His fingers pressing against her pussy cut her words short, firm circles on her clit through her panties, almost enough pressure but just something missing—

“That’s a good start, honey, but I know you can do better than that.”

“Oh, God” she sobbed, tears spilling, “Oh, God—more! Put your fingers in me—fuck me—please, fuck me, knot me, please, please Alpha—” It was agony, the way he tormented her with his barely-there touches, everything just not enough. She gasped and winced as the cramp grew stronger, taking over her mind, the pitch of her voice rising with hysteria at the pain. “Please, please—it hurts!” she cried, tears gathering in her eyes and falling down her temples into her hairline. “It hurts so bad, Alpha, I need more, I need you to fix it, please—”

“Oh, sweetie,” he cooed, blue eyes looking down at her with pity and lust and love, and it was almost cruel the way he loved her. After removing her panties, he pushed a finger inside her pussy, groaning at the way her walls fluttered around him like they were trying to keep him inside. “You’re so tight, baby, I’m gonna have to open you up before you can take my cock.”

She shook her head, “No, Alpha, please—need it now—”

He pulled his hand away and delivered a hard slap to her cunt, the sting amplified by her wetness, making her cry out. “Now, now,” he chastised her as she thrashed around. “I don’t wanna hurt you. Be a good girl and let your Alpha work you open.”

Leaning over her, he returned his finger to her heat, working her clit with his thumb and distracting her with deep kisses, swallowing her whimpers and sobs. Slowly, he worked another finger into her, then another, until he was teasing at her entrance with his pinky. She opened up beautifully for him, so pink and flushed and dripping wet, ready for his cock.

As she was on the verge of coming, he withdrew his fingers, ignoring her sweet little whine as he stood up and pulled off his shirt. He looked down at her, the way she writhed around before him, needy and wanting for his knot. Palming his bulge leisurely, he groaned. “God, sweetheart, you’re so beautiful.”

“Alpha—” she whimpered.

“I can’t believe this is finally happening.” He unbuttoned his pants slowly and took them off along with his underwear. Then he took his cock in his hand, stroking it. “I’m finally gonna fuck you.” She was distracted from his words at the sight of his cock, which she reached for with grabby hands, her mouth watering at the sight. “I’m gonna fuck you all through your heat, come inside you so many times, plug you full with my knot.”

That seemed to almost break her out of her reverie, and a flash of a frown played on her face. “I’m not on birth control,” she said. “Please don’t—we can’t—are there—do you have condoms?”

He groaned, tightening his grip at the base of his cock so he wouldn’t come. “Oh, baby, my love, my darling,” he leaned over her, easily resisting her hands trying to push him away, thick thighs like cinderblocks between her legs, holding her wide open and exposed for his cock, which he positioned at her weeping entrance. “I’m gonna fuck you raw. It’ll feel so good bare—nothing separating us, nothing preventing my seed from taking root in your stomach.”

“Wait!” she gasped as he pushed forward, her eager cunt consuming him.

“I’m not waiting anymore,” he growled, pushing in all the way until his balls rested against her ass. “I’ve waited for months.” Pulling out, he gave a sharp thrust, making her groan. He repeated, “I’m not waiting anymore.”

As he started to fuck her in full, she keened, back arching into him, his threats of impregnating her completely forgotten what with the sudden relief he gave her. “Alpha!” she gasped, hands no longer pushing him away, but instead holding onto his shoulders, his hair, as he furiously fucked into her.

“Good girl, my good, sweet Omega,” he groaned.

His words melted the remaining hesitance inside of her and she arched up into him, wanting to be his good girl, his sweet Omega. “Yes, yes, Alpha, yes—” she chanted, until he fucked her so hard she couldn’t breathe.

Fisting her hair, Steve pulled her head to the side to bare her neck to him. “Take my cock, Omega—you take it so well.” He leaned forward and nuzzled her scent gland, then placed his lips over it and sucked, her sweet scent flooding his nose and mouth like he was drowning in her perfume.

It was all too much for her—his cock, his lips, her heat having been building for so long, his incessant teasing—and she came hard, body spasming in his arms. He continued to fuck her through it, as her muscles went rigid and shaky, and then lax as she relaxed into him. Her eyes were glazed now, her body limp, letting him fuck her like a ragdoll, letting him revel in the way her pussy spasmed around his cock and sucked him in deeper.

And once her orgasm was done, and she realized that he still hadn’t given her his knot, she sobbed. “No, no, Steve, Alpha—need your knot—please—”

“Oh, I know, honey, my poor baby.” He leaned down over her with a condescending grin, peppering her skin with soft little kisses. She whimpered and squirmed. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you my knot, baby.”

He straightened up and sat back on his feet, draping her thighs across his own, easily holding her boneless legs around his hips. His thrusts jarred her each time, and she whimpered with every single one, her spent body being pummeled by his cock. When he hitched her hips up a little higher, allowing his cock to hit that perfect spot each time, that’s when he saw the bulge in her pelvis, the shape of his large cock visible fucking in and out of her.

She cried out. The sensation of his cock inside of her was incredible, overwhelming almost to the point of pain. Her head was bearing her weight at an odd angle now with this new position.

“See this, my love?” he asked, pushing in all the way, hips stilling. Running his fingers lightly across the bulge in her tummy, he encouraged her to look at it. “That’s my cock, right where it belongs. Deep inside you, making you mine.” He slowly started to fuck her again, letting the heat slowly build up again until she was squirming and urgent. “Tell me, are you mine?”

“Alpha, please,” she begged him again, “I need your knot—please, please—”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he purred, picking up speed, hardly breaking a sweat. Playing with her clit, he ran his other hand over her breasts, her belly, her hips, looking at her so reverently, with so much love in his eyes and his heart for his Omega. In a soft voice, he said, “You’re going to be such a good Omega for me, my pretty girl.”

“Yes,” she sighed as his fingers on her clit sped up until she was thrusting her hips into his as much as she could. He could tell by her face that she was close, the way her eyebrows scrunched together, lips opening around nothing as she cooed for more.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he whispered, almost reaching his own completion, voice growing gruffer and guttural the closer he got. “I’m gonna fill your belly with me, and you’re going to look so beautiful.” He growled, “Gonna look so pretty, belly swollen with my pups,” he ran a hand across her stomach, then brought it up to squeeze her breast. “Our babies will nurse from these, and I’m gonna keep you filled up all the time—God—so fucking pretty—a baby in your belly, a baby on your tit—"

He pushed her over the edge then, the finger on her clit rubbing her to completion, his words fueling the illicit fire in her stomach, her Omega brain craving his words to be actualized. “Yes!” she cried, her body tightening and snapping, cunt milking his cock for his release.

Finally, he let himself go, allowed himself to come deep inside her, the head of his cock pressed right at her malleable cervix, ripe to receive his seed and take it into her womb and create a physical token of their love, of his ownership of her body.

His knot swelled and caught at the entrance of her cunt, locking his cock and his come deep inside of her, the pressure on her walls prolonging her orgasm. He collapsed over her and gave a few deep, aborted thrusts, his knot limiting his movement as he tried to fuck his come deeper inside of her although she was already so full, the imprint of his cock in her belly more visible than ever now.

The endorphins from the knotting flooded his mind, made him crazy, and suddenly, he could only think of one thing: claiming her in every possible way.

Teeth bared, he bit down hard on her bonding gland, feeling the skin stretch and then snap as he sank his canines deep into her shoulder. Her blood and scent flooded his mouth, tasting like the sweetest wine he had ever drank, rich and bold, complimented by her cry of pleasure and her cunt clamping down on his cock for the third time, body quaking underneath him with the force of her orgasm.

He came again, too, sending more come deep inside her. It seared her insides and he could feel that there was so much of it, copious amounts filling her entire channel all the way down to his knot wedged inside her entrance.

The bond snapped into place so suddenly that it jarred him, feeling the tug of her soul against his, her pleasure magnifying and intensifying his own. He hoped she could feel his love for her, his desire and his devotion. It felt so right, almost like they had always been bonded, and suddenly Steve couldn’t think of his life without her, without their hearts twined together, a perfect fit, like they were custom made, manufactured just for each other.

“My love,” he sighed, bringing his lips all along her neck, licking and kissing and scenting her thoroughly, lapping away the blood and tear tracks, all salt and sharp metallic until he licked it all away and he could only taste her skin and her scent. He buried his face in her hair then, rubbing against her, before pulling back to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, mouth parted in bliss. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to cup her face. “Darling, look at me.”

Steve wanted to see his mate’s eyes, look into her soul as he knotted her, wanted to watch her as their souls bound together the same way their bodies did.

Her eyes opened, bleary and unseeing. His cock twitched at how dazed she looked, knowing that it was all due to him, his cock. Then she seemed to focus on him, and she frowned.

“S-Steve…” A twinge of confusion pulled at their bond. “What… what did you do?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed gently. He kissed her, which easily distracted her in her befuddled state of mind. Then he thrusted his hips against her again, as deep as he could go, rubbing at her clit until she shook, coming for a fourth time, body hypersensitive, needing his baby.

It was this orgasm that brought her down, and she passed out, thoroughly sated to the point of exhaustion, his cock still lodged deep inside of her.

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vesuviannights · 4 years

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Lucio x Reader 🍋🍋

Gender neutral reader, no pronouns or body parts.

As an Omega, you’ve spent your life yearning for adventure and covering your symptoms with any range of spells and herbs you could find. And the world has been kind to you, keeping you hidden from any Alpha who would wish to have you - until a white wolf appears in your forest sanctuary, golden eyes and blood-stained maw, and your carefully crafted control begins to unravel.

5411 words.

Featuring: omegaverse lore, knotting, breeding kink, cum stuffing, biting/claiming, Alpha Lucio, Omega Reader, some Asra x Muriel, mentions of blood, mentions of starvation

If you’re familiar with Omegaverse lore, know that I’ve fiddled with some of it to merge it with what we know of the Arcana universe. If not - welcome, and I hope you enjoy your stay! Here’s an informative page if you want to learn about it before you read, but if not there’s just enough exposition woven throughout the fic to give you the basics.

Also, the whole ‘consent what consent’ vibe in Omegaverse fics always throws me a bit, so there’s some vaguely political stuff in here to address that.

This is the second fic (and third prompt) for my Terrifying Ten scorecard!

You had never wanted to be an Omega. Or a Beta. Or even an Alpha. You had only ever wanted to be you, and free to do whatever you pleased, and not weighed down by what each label meant, or how others looked at you because of it.

And so you had spent every year since your first heat, that horrifying moment you could no longer deny exactly what you were, trying to figure out new ways to stop or mask it.

Casting spells. Starving yourself. Hiding out in certain magical places to mask your scent. Carrying specific herbs or magical items with you to ward off the all-too-obvious symptoms until you could find sanctuary.

You knew it was dangerous. Illegal, in some parts. The right kind of Omega might be considered property by the wrong kind of Alpha, and the longer an Omega went through their heats without sating them by submitting to an Alpha, the more they risked one day being crippled by them.

But you…you risked it all. All for freedom. All for the world. For wanting to see and explore and live how you wanted and not for someone else.

And all because of what your Aunt had told you one day, when you had been walking past the Count’s palace. Her eyes had glazed over, her voice had become fickle and husky, like it always did whenever she was possessed by the spirits.

And then she had turned to you and whispered the six words you knew you could never escape:

One day he will have you.

The air is crisp around you as you push your fingers through the damp soil, seeking the mushrooms and roots you need for your evening meal.

Beside you, a basket is already near-filled with them, all sorts and varieties and colours, ready to be washed and made into stew. You would usually never pick so many for yourself, especially not during your heat when you were too nauseous to eat, but you always enjoyed leaving some for Muriel as a thanks for letting you kick him out of his hut for a week.

You didn’t think you could ever thank him enough, really, but you tried to every moment you could. The sanctuary it allowed for you to have was priceless, and no gift would ever suffice in return.

You drop a few more roots into your basket before dusting the dirt from your hands. A little is still there when you move your hair from your face, and flecks of it catch in the strands and on your cheeks.

You huff quietly under your breath.

—and just barely hear a second, more distance huff join it.

You freeze at the sound, an almost low growl that reverberates through the clearing and straight into your chest.

And that’s when you feel it.

Eyes.

Watching, waiting, curious.

Ready to devour.

You stand on shaking legs, your eyes darting around the edges of the clearing. Three rapid beats of your heart pass before you see it, hidden in the shadows of the trees just beyond reach.

It’s a wolf. White as snow, with two golden eyes and a bloodstained maw that curls back over its glistening teeth.

Your knees nearly buckle at the sight of it, the world stilling around you as its eyes pin you in place. There is a burn at the base of your throat, a thickness you can’t quite dislodge. A soft wind pulls at your clothes, rustles the trees around you, and when the wolf takes a single step forward, you’re hit with the faintest scent of honey.

It’s this that snaps you from your daze, that awakens you enough to release a short gasp as you take a single step back. The wolf’s ears perk, its pupils blow out, but it doesn’t take another step, and you manage to clamber your way back into the hut and slam the back door shut.

You pull every lock but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

You wait out the night in the bedroom upstairs in darkness, all curtains pulled, alone with your thoughts and fears until the sun peaks over the frosted forest trees and you are safe once more.

There are no more signs of the wolf, a mere figment of your imagination when you set foot back in the city a week later. Asra sends word that same day of his own return—without Muriel, but with fresh fish from the northern rivers.

And so you venture into the markets that evening with your satchel and coins, determined to have at least something in the house other than dried fruits and stale bread. Perhaps some root vegetables and spices for the fish. Some wine to pair with it.

The city is bustling at the evening hour, and you pick your way through it via a series of back streets and alleys you know well. Already in your bag is a fresh pick of swedes, and your mind is set on the mulled wine from the vendor by Salasi.

As you side step a cart and duck into an alley, you let out a quiet sigh—and are immediately hit with a swoop of heat that nearly crushes you.

It moves from head to toe with brutal force, one clean swoop before it settles in your gut. Your knees give from beneath you, and you barely notice the sting of you palms as you catch yourself on the ground.

Your vision is pinpricks of black, a foggy midnight. Racing heart. Short, shallow gasps.

And when you look up, you see it.

The wolf.

The sounds of the city are so distant, cut off by a fog you barely have the clarity to try and push your way through.

There, in the airless alley, there is nothing in the universe except for you and the white wolf as he paws forward, sharp claws clicking on the cobble.

His eyes are searing into your soul, and with each step he takes closer you find yourself keening, little whines and huffs from somewhere deep in your chest as your fingernails curl into the ground, near snapping from the force.

The wolf comes to a stop before you. As you wait on shaking hands and knees, it presses its nose to your face, your jaw, your neck. It inhales, and with it comes an oh-so-soft growl before it begins to circle.

And there you kneel, barely a day after your heat had already passed, brought down by the Alpha who circles and inhales you like its last meal.

When it steps behind you, you feel quiet noises of protest bubble in your chest, little whispers of no no no no no as he presses his maw between your legs—and with that singular action comes the wolf’s deepest growl yet, one that makes your arms give out from under you.

You fall and curl in on yourself, shaking and shivering even though it feels like a baby sun has found its home in your body, flaring and stretching itself out to every nerve and muscle it can find.

You’re barely aware of the wolf shifting, of its human scent hitting you.

A dying campfire. Honeysuckle.

You gasp out and try to shift out of his arms when he scoops you up.

“No, no,” you moan. “Please—please, I don’t—”

“Ssshhh.”

His voice is so soothing, right against your ear. Gentle. Safe.

You relax, the world slipping for a few moments as you press your face into his chest. His hands—one soft, one hard—curl into your body to keep you close. You sway as he walks, a soft oceanic movement that lulls you, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones.

And then the world goes black.

You blink and push yourself up on a shaking hand, the room slowly clearing as you brush the sleep from your eyes.

Every part of you is a little sore, as though you had run for too long without water. It’s daylight. The smell of fresh bread lingers in the room, and a moment later—

Asra appears in the door, soft smile and dazzling eyes as he leans against the frame.

The shop. You’re back in the shop.

“I was wondering when you would wake.”

He has that look about him. That freshly-fucked glow, the kind he always has when he comes back from being railed by a rutting Muriel’s fourteen inch cock for six days straight.

You stand, stretch, rub your face. “Is there food?”

“Plenty. You know I always need to replenish when I’m back.”

Downstairs, there is a ridiculous spread. Dried figs, small chunks of cheese, breads and olive oils, cold cured meats from your favourite market vendor. There is even a small selection of sweets in the corner, placed closest to Asra for ease of access.

The sight of so much food should be overwhelming, but you’re used to it. Asra never puts his money where his mouth is, or rather the food—always says he wants to eat and eat and eat after returning home, when really all he wants is to pick at things like a spoiled concubine.

He lounges on his side by the low table, supported by plush silk cushions while you lower yourself to sit cross-legged opposite him.

The two of you immediately begin working through the food while he talks about his plans for the week, how the weather will turn just enough for the two of you to spend a night out in the fields stargazing.

You murmur and agree to each thing, though you don’t really remember them once he moves on to the next one. Your concentration isn’t normally so poor, and if he notices you thinking on it, he doesn’t say a thing.

The spread of food slowly clears, until about half remains, and Asra has stopped picking.

You have a piece of toast halfway to your mouth when it hits you. Hazy and not entirely there and curious.

The alley. The wolf. The…the scent.

“Are you alright, love?” Asra asks, his voice coming to you as though through a thick fog.

You’re frowning, eyes unfocused. You don’t know if you’re alright. You can’t quite recall how you got home, or what happened after the scent.

Asra’s face shifts. He reaches out for your knee, squeezes. Your hazy memories become a little more so, and then you blink, and they are gone.

You exhale softly, and accept a small circle of cheese Asra pushes toward you. Your cheeks bloom in your happiness: it’s your favourite, a kind only available in a far-off city on the continent.

Grabbing it up with unapologetic greed, you take your first bite and release a soft moan. Asra beams at your pleasure, and the final sliver of uncertainty eases itself from the room.

“How did your week go?” He asks.

You nod, and you tell him it went well. You got a lot of reading done. You tried to paint. Muriel has a new row of herbs in his garden, though you couldn’t say what—identifying seeds has never been your specialty.

Asra’s eyes light up, and he laughs. “Muri will adore them, I’m sure.”

And you smile back, and bite into your toast.

“Last time I changed something in his hut,” you remind him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “He pouted for a week. Remember? He hated those carvings. Said he wanted to move out, they were so hideous.”

Asra’s lips twitch up, but something seems to fall, too. You tilt your head and watch as his gaze lingers for a second longer, then loses the fight and drops away.

“He’s…not leaving the hut, is he?” You ask slowly, a little more alert. And then, with a slightly tighter chest, “You’re not leaving, are you?”

He shakes his head, no, and then shrugs.

“Maybe. Muri is getting restless anyway,” he says. His gaze drops to his hands, where he’s picking at his nail beds. “He wants pups.”

“Do you?”

And then, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, a resigned, “Yeah.”

But. There’s a ‘but’ there, one you know not to push.

With the remains of your meal scattered and a new weight settled over the shop, you stand and begin to collect whatever you can save for the next day. Asra remains in his spot, staring at his nail beds, until you crouch by him and kiss his head, nodding toward your shared room.

The day melts into the afternoon, until the sun begins to disappear beneath the skyline and you’re stirred from your dozing by the sounds of rapping at the shop door.

Asra murmurs and stretches out beside you, then slowly unfurls each of his limbs from each of yours and moves for the door. Faust slithers out from the sheets at the foot of the bed and curls into the curve of your neck, and the two of you are very nearly back to sleep when Asra returns with a small piece of paper bearing the palace seal on the back.

He holds it up to you between two fingers, nose crinkled in mild distaste.

“It’s—” You pause to yawn, murmuring quietly as you sit up and rub at your eyes. “It’s from the Countess?”

Asra nods.

“The Count’s ruts have been getting longer and longer,” he sighs. The paper vanishes in a puff of magic, and he begins to gather his scarf and coat as he speaks. “And she can only be alone with the insufferable twat for so long herself.”

Your lips twitch a little at the comment, and he slings his bag over his shoulder before offering out a hand for Faust to slither up.

“Muriel isn’t back in the city yet,” he says, looking a little worried. “Will you be okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” you assure. You lean forward to kiss Faust on her nose, and then flop back down into the sheets, ready to settle in for another nap. “Wake me when you get back.”

Asra murmurs his goodbye, and you’re already slipping when he closes the shop door behind him.

Until another rapping comes, this time much firmer and a little more impatient.

Near blind, you push yourself up and stumble toward the door, still rubbing sleep from your eyes with the heel of your palm as you open the door.

And before you stands your white wolf.

Count Lucio.

You know it without thought, without consideration, as though every nerve in your body knew the exact feel of the flames that licked at them whenever he came close, in whichever form he chose.

You wait for it to hit you, that crippling heat, that burning need, but as you stare up at him through your lashes and his canines glint in the torchlight, you find nothing inside of yourself except your own racing heart.

You pause before you speak, body still as your eyes flicker over his face. “How—how did you know Asra would leave?”

He peers into the shop and steps inside, not waiting for an invitation as he looks around.

“I was a particularly insufferable twat today,” he tells you. “So that Noddy would request your master’s company.”

You exhale hard to cover the shake in your chest as you close the door, and against your better judgement you lock it.

“He’s…not my master,” you murmur to him.

He turns to you, canines glinting in the torchlight. “No. He’s not.”

With long, sure strides he stalks toward you, and of your own accord your eyes drop down and you walk yourself back until you hit the wall. He gives a low growl of approval, and—

There it is again, that scent, honeysuckle and a dying fire. Your eyes flutter shut; you can already feel the promise of what comes next.

“You’ll find I’m not a patient Alpha, my sweet,” he murmurs to you.

His alchemical arm reaches down, you feel it brush against the fabric of your clothes before he pulls something out. Your eyes catch on it, but you still can’t look up, still can’t raise your voice above a whisper.

“What is that?” You ask.

But of course, you know what it is.

“You know what it is,” he answers, an impatient lilt there. “Though perhaps you haven’t been knowledgeable in the ways you’ve been using it.”

He holds it out, and you take it in trembling fingers.

Myrrh. You knew it well, despite your attempt at ignorance. Muriel used it so people forgot him, and you used it to ignore what you were.

Asra had introduced it to you as something he himself had used in his battle to fight off his own heat and find true love instead—something that had clearly worked, and knowing that Muriel and Asra were as much in love as they were mated kept you religious about carrying it with you wherever you went.

With a clever combination of other herbs and spells, it kept the worst of it at bay. The pain was still there, but not the crippling heat, not the burning desire to be fucked and pupped without conscious choice.

You had never submitted to an Alpha, and you had never attracted any.

Until now.

Lucio tuts, pushes the hair from your face, laughs with an almost condescending edge.

“You’ve never submitted to an Alpha before now because you were waiting for me. This—“ He snatches it back to brandish it, then crushes it in his alchemical hand with a scoff. “This means nothing. That day in the forest I could have had you, could have pinned you and pupped you while you screamed.”

You shiver at his words. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Because you said ‘no’. Then, and last night when you collapsed in the alley. I’m an Alpha, but I’m not a monster.”

He traces your bottom lip, and it trembles then parts as your tongue darts out, hesitantly lapping at the tip of his thumb. You dare a glance up and see the approval in his eyes, the darkening of his irises, and your stomach leaps at the look. You turn your head and close your lips over his thumb, whimpering and whining as you suckle.

“You won’t last forever, pet,” he says. “You will have to submit. Your body demands it. Even now I can see the sweat of your brow, the tremble in your thighs…the myrrh and spells hide the symptoms but they don’t erase them forever.”

And at his words, your entire body shudders and you drop against him. It’s the alley all over again, a heat licking up your spine and every nerve, clawing at your veins, you’re whimpering and whining and the only thing you know is honeysuckle and dying woodfire.

He is growling, muscles rolling, pressing you against the wall as he nuzzles into your neck, as he paws at your clothes.

Say it say it say it say it—

You don’t know what he’s asking for, your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, your chest heaving, you need it now, you need to be rewarded, filled, fucked, pupped—

The thought slams into you without elegance and without warning, and you gasp out and shove him away, but he comes right back. He smashes his lips to yours, teeth clashing as he ruts his hips into your thigh.

“Say it!” He growls; it’s deeper, it echoes in your mind, demands. An Alpha’s voice.

You whimper, and the word tumbles from your lips in a pathetic cry.

“YES!”

And then he’s on you. He’s shredding your clothes, his teeth are at your neck, grazing and threatening to mark. You can feel the heat of his cock as he throws you down onto the table, you part your legs whining and clawing at the wood.

He snorts at the sight of you, a cold sneer as he looks you over. “What am I supposed to do with you like this? Present yourself.”

You scramble to roll over onto your stomach and push your hips into the air. You can feel your sudden heat lashing at your body, causing arousal to drip down your thighs, lubricating you for everything to come. You push your hips back, panting and whimpering, trying so desperately to find the heat of his cock.

His cock, his seed, to be filled, to be swelled, to be knotted and held there and bred and pupped and fucked over and over and over again—

“Please!” You whine and look over your shoulder, but he growls and pushes your head back down.

“Behave yourself.”

You feel his cock press into your inner thigh, and you know he must have shifted into his mating form, because no human cock could be so large, so thick. You shudder, your eyes sting from desperation.

He just laughs. An Alpha in control, desperate to fuck you and pup you, but he won’t make it easy for you to get what you want.

“Please!” You gasp out again. “I’ll—I’ll be good, I promise—”

“Oh, my dear little Omega,” he purrs into your shoulder blade. He pauses to graze his teeth there, and you go near-feral from the sting. “You will be good no matter what, my cock will see to that. Have you ever taken a cock this big before?”

You shake your head.

“Have you ever taken cock at all?”

You swallow, and when you don’t answer, his grip on your hips tightens.

“AH!” You yelp and jerk away from the bruising, but he drags you right back with a warning growl.

The action causes the head of his cock to slip into you, and you sob at the stretch of it, as the ache in your body burns even deeper at the knowledge that he’s inside of you, but not enough to sate you.

“Do you want my cock, little Omega?” He purrs. “Do you want me to fill you?” You give a pathetic whine. “Oh, you do? Well, then perhaps you should ask for it.”

Your words begin bubbling out before you can stop them.

“Please, please please—”

He scoffs. “Better than that, my dearest.”

His alchemical fingertips trace the curve of your spine. You clench and shudder around the head of his cock, but he remains perfectly still.

“Tell me exactly how you want me to take you.”

Your eyes roll as you gather your next words.

“I—I want—” You attempt to turn your face into the table to hide yourself, the drooling mess of your mouth, the crossing of your eyes, but he twists you back with an impatient growl. “PLEASE! Please, f-fuck me, please fuck me, fill me with your cock, breed me and pup me and fuck me please—”

Your words snap his final ounce of control, and he slams into you in one go with a howl, one that seems to shake the walls of the shop and every object on the shelves.

An Alpha’s howl.

A claiming howl.

The Count of Vesuvia, finally having found his Omega.

He begins fucking you without warning, long and thick strokes you know couldn’t possibly fit inside you. But they do, your body has shifted along with his own and every inch of him can fit inside of your dripping hole.

The room echoes with wet squelching noises as he moves at a brutal pace, his growing knot and balls slamming against you as he buries himself as deep as possible each time.

“Ohhh, does that feel better, pet?” He croons to you. “Does it feel good having my cock inside of you, fucking you like the submissive little bitch you are after you spent so long denying it?”

You nod and gasp, nails dragging along the oak of the table as you try to gain purchase to push back. You want his knot. You need it so bad, you need to be filled—

You sob. “P-please!”

“’Please’?” He laughs, and the barely-hidden edge makes that final hold on you snap.

“I WANT YOUR KNOT!” You scream. “I need your cum—I need it please—”

He reaches forward and closes a hand around your neck, yanking you up and back against his chest. His movements don’t still as both arms close around your waist, caging you in.

“I’ll knot you,” he murmurs into the back of your neck. “I’ll fill you with my cum and then my pups and watch you swell with them over and over again—” You whine as he speaks, and the deep growl from his chest is his approval. “But first, you must give me something in return.”

And then you feel it—the scrape of his too-sharp canines against your neck.

He wants to mark you.

Claim you.

Make you his, and only his, for everyone to see.

“Yes!” You gasp it out without even thinking, without needing to. “Mark me, I’m yours, I’m your mate—”

He lets out a feral growl at the word. “Say it again.”

“M-mate, I’m—” You feel your grip on reality slip, just for a moment, only to be brought back by his hand at your throat, shaking you as he rattles your body with his brutal pace.

“Louder, again—scream it for the city to hear!”

“MATE!”

His hand tightens just that little bit more.

“Again!”

“MATE, I’M YOUR MATE—AH!”

His teeth sink in, right as his knot does, and it’s the most exquisite pain you have ever felt in your life.

While his teeth cut into your neck and mark you with his scent, claiming you forever as his, his knot stretches you to its impossible size, locking you to him as his cum spills inside of you, copious and hot and thick.

You groan and whine and whimper at the feel, the world blacking out for a few moments as your body strains to take it all in. No world, no words, no time; just the warmth of his cum as it swells your stomach, the sweat that trickles down your collar bone along with the blood that stains your skin and his teeth.

When you return to consciousness a moment later, your own orgasm is rocking through you. It’s burning you from the inside out, leaving you dazed and aching, squeezing around his swollen cock and knot, greedily draining him and everything he is offering you.

As you start to come down, panting and gasping, you can feel something at your thighs. You realise, with heavy eyes and barely-there mewls, that there is so much of his cum inside of you, flooding you, that it has leaked out past his knot. It’s dribbling down your heated skin, following the curve of your thigh, the back of your knee, to the floor with soft little pats.

You let out a soft cry as he pulls his canines from your neck, then laves at the marks with his tongue to seal them. Your hand goes to your stomach, still so impossibly swollen with his cum—and one day, if he had his way, with more than his cum.

His hand joins yours at your stomach, pressing gently. You groan in protest at the ache, and he shushes you with a kiss behind your ear as more of his cum leaks out and runs down each of your legs.

“Oh little Omega, look at the mess you’ve made,” he murmurs.

His voice is quiet now, the Alpha sated, though it’s only temporary. Within half an hour, his knot will have receded, and he will be ready to fuck you again, and knot you again, and fill you with his cum again, over and over throughout the night and well into the next few days, until his rut is over and he has had his fill.

You let out a soft cry as he shifts the two of you to stretch out along the table, his body curved along your spine.

“You’ve been coupling thistle with the myrrh, have you not?” He asks.

You nod. Even though you were so careful to never be exposed to an Alpha until now, you still took the precautions to prevent pregnancy.

“That will have to stop immediately,” he murmurs into the back of your neck. He nuzzles with his nose, and then presses a single, slow, open-mouthed kiss there. “I want you swollen with my pups.”

You swallow thickly, and when you don’t nod or make a noise to agree, he reaches forward and roughly takes hold of your chin. Your eyes go to his lips, feeling the Alpha roll through him again, you can’t meet his gaze.

“Do you not want my pups?” You shake your head. “’No’, you don’t want them, or ‘no’, I’m wrong?”

You swallow. His grip tightens. You whimper, and in response you feel his cock twitch inside of you, setting off a new round of heat that begins to curl around your abdomen and the base of your spine.

You’re already panting a little when you answer. “I want your pups. I want to be your—your breeding bitch.”

“Good mate,” he murmurs. His hand goes back to your stomach, pressing against the swell of it once more.

As if pulled by strings, you whine and twitch against him, and his body rolls with a growl as he nuzzles into your neck.

“B-but—” You gasp it out, and feel him freeze behind you. But he waits. “I…I want to wait. Please. I don’t think I can handle…pups, right now.” You swallow, and when he still hasn’t said a word, you add in a whisper, “I want to see the world.”

It seems like an eternity before he speaks, or moves, or gives you any indication of what he feels. His lips remain at the back of your neck, and his hand against your stomach, the pressure there just enough to be a constant reminder of how full you are of him.

“I would never dream of taking your autonomy from you,” he murmurs, breaking the silence. “If you wish to be swathed in silks, then I will find the best out there. If you wish to spend your days lounging in my palace without lifting a finger, then I shall assign you a thousand hands to help. And if you wish to see the world…”

Your breath catches in your throat. You can hear the shake on his voice, the barely-contained Alpha—and beneath it all, the terrified Count Lucio, afraid that affection will not remain forever. That you will not remain forever.

“…then you will see the world.”

You nod, but you can’t bring yourself to thank him. Instead, you lift a hand to his wrist, holding it against your throat for the comfort and security it offers.

It doesn’t take more than a few moments before you feel him tensing behind you, the Alpha’s growl building in his chest.

“I will fuck you on every surface in this shop until sunrise,” he says, voice deathly still. “Until you can no longer walk, until you can no longer swallow my cum or fit any more of it inside your aching hole, and even then. And if your master returns, I’ll make him watch—maybe I will even make him join, no matter who his Alpha is. How does that sound, pet?”

You’re shivering from the heat again; without the myrrh and with your Alpha so close by, with your new mark burning at your neck, there is little to do.

Everything he says sounds so wonderful. So delicious. You want to be fucked and bred and swollen and held down while he does whatever he needs to you, while he coos to you about how much of his cum is inside of you, how swollen and aching you are, how pretty it looks dribbling down your thighs and leaving drops on the wooden floor of the shop.

All too soon, before you have even managed to answer, you feel him beginning to pull out of you. Along with it, some of his seed spills out onto the table, and you feel tears sting your eyes at the loss.

Until he rights you, hips in the air, and rakes his claws down your spine as he leans in to whisper.

“Spread yourself apart for me like a good little breeding slut.”

And then he slams himself into you once more.

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