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Making The Alpha Submit (BL)

"I can't do that," he says softly, staring absentmindedly in the whiskey glass, "I'm the Alpha." "So?" "So, I'm not supposed to be this.... submissive," he spats, eyebrow creasing as if the whiskey glass is a rotten tomato. "Come here." Kamil instructs gently, watching the turmoil in the way he grinds his teeth, bites his lips but when he raised his head and their eyes meet, the hesitation fades. Dropping into his arms, Kamil strokes his hair slowly at first, curls as wispy as flowers. Suddenly, he grabs onto them roughly tilting his head towards him, trailing a finger down his throat to a nipple. And when a whimper fell from the Alpha's lips, he growled and bit his ear, leaving a mark so red fire pales in comparison. "Out there, you're the Alpha. But in here with me, you're mine. You are my good boy." ********** Full description titled Making the Alpha Submit blurb ******** WARNING: mature scenes between two (consenting) men light kink & submission if a chapter labelled M isn't your kind of thing, do pass on to the next (or scroll rapidly to the end of the M chapter) ***************** Contact me: Instagram @ameliacovet Twitter: @ameliacovet

AmeliaCovet · LGBT+
Not enough ratings
148 Chs

PANDA

October 23rd, xxxx

LATA WANTS TO GO outside beyond midnight walks with an ebullient blonde haired boy but no one lets her. They say it's for her own good, they say she must rest, they give her a dog to pet as if giving a petulant child sweet to suck on.

But she's not petulant. She's overwhelmed and hurt and scared and Rain is gone and it's all her fault. She knows it's all her fault even though she remembers nothing.

Her mind a total blank, a maze of darkness that if she stays in for too long, she'll smash into a wall and the pain will bang in her head, starting from deep recesses of her skull before reverberating through her entire body.

In the dead of the night after an hour or so stroll, when she'll truly be alone with no one, no crickets for company, no dog, not the moon, she'll cry.

Hot tears that'll seep into her dreams that turns into nightmares, her tossing and turning to fleeting, rapid images that makes no sense to her.

Something will jump at her—fangs, claws, a rod, she'll jolt awake in cold sweat hyperventilating.

Then dawn will break and the first face she'll see is of the Doc smiling through mollifying teeth, prodding her with food and basic questions she'll hasten to the bathroom as a buffer.

The one they call Major will amble in next, faithful dog at his heels looking at her with that forsaken pitiful expression she hates, hates and drop her head away from.

He'll leave and when afternoon comes, friendly Hayan with tray of food for two will come keep her company, chattering on and on about friends, schoolwork, the mundane and it'll be in this state of non-stop chatter the Doc and Major—sans dog—will simultaneously arrive again to check up on her.

Tired of her monotonous life so bad she could scream... And so she does startling everyone.

But it isn't sudden. She's wrung tight as if abrout to lurch and fall. The Doc nearest to her tries touching her arm but she yanks it free, hitting the tray of food to the ground.

They tell her to calm down, to take deep breaths but jumping down from the bed, she's screaming her head off.

The Major stalks closer but stops when she picks up a shard and uses it as a weapon, as a barrier, they back off.

"Drop the glass, Lata or you'll hurt yourself," Doc beseech but she shakes her head, tears free falling.

"Leave me alone. Leave me alone. I want to go home!"

She doesn't know where this home is but Rain is home. She wants to go to Rain.

"Lata—"

"Don't look at me like that. Stop looking at me like that!"

He shuts up at a loss for what to do but his unwavering eyes on her, the frustration in his eyes almost mirror her own as if he knows what she's feeling, as if he understands.

This makes her break down, shoulders trembling in convulsing tears, the racking sounds of it breaking her heart.

He tells her it'll be okay but she knows he's lying. This heart wrench squeez in her chest, punching the breath out of her hides behind her ear and whispers that nothing will be fine.

Nothing can be fine.

Rain is dead, dead, dead and it's all her fault, fault, fault, how can it get better? It'll never be better because she's a stupid, foolish little thing that don't...

Something touches her arm and she recoils, the arm holding the shard slashes the air... No, not the air. Hayan. It slashes her cheek. Through tear foggy eyes sees the flesh open, bloos trickles in thick blobs down.

Hayan's mouth hang open too stunned to speak. Lata should apologize. She must, she must, she must but something in the air shifts and she looks up and away from the blood to the door, the hair at the back of her neck rising.

She thinks it must be karma, it has to be because why else is her whole body like a spring? This magnetic pull, this power reminds her so violently of something honey but not sweet honey—lukewarm honey, offish honey, surlish honey—and immediately she knows it's the Alpha.

The door opens and he comes into view, a disapproving look on his face. The first and only time she met him was at night four days ago, bringing with him the blonde haired boy—Nuka, he'd wide smiled introduced—to reiterate questions she's heard from the Doc, telling her they were all glad she's alive.

Back then, Rain's death still fresh, she'd answered and nodded in the right places, not paying anything and anyone much attention.

Now, the Alpha has commandeered all of her attention, exceedingly dark eyes roving the shard in her hand, the blood Hayan quickly swipes off, the shards on the floor, her stricken expression.

Heart pounding so hard it could rupture, Lata stands frozen, scared at the punishment she'll receive, the flogging accompanied with aggravated lashes of we saved you and this the thanks we get?

She attempts to take a step back when he walks towards her, to shrink, to disappear and involuntarily she jerks when he's close enough but is surprised when he crouches, spreading the shards away with his hands.

"Raise your foot," on autopilot she obeys, wincing a little when he removes it and carries her to the bed gesturing for the Doc to sanitize the bleeding foot.

"What's your name?"

"Lata," she immediately says, knowing he knows her name.

"Lata, does it hurt? Your foot."

"Yes."

"And you're hurting, right? You must be confused and overwhelmed."

Confused. Overwhelmed. In pain. Grieving. Rain, Rain, Rain.

"It's okay. You can scream and yell and if you want you can throw a fist at the wall. That's fine. Expressing your feelings is good," he pats the bed, pausing for his words to sink in before continuing.

"But, Lata, you don't express your feelings by hurting someone else. Or do you think otherwise?"

She shakes her head.

"Answer me."

"No. No I don't, Alpha North." She really doesn't. It was a mistake. It'll never happen again.

"Good. Next time you're feeling overwhelmed, you can scream. We'll give you the space to do that. Now, what do we say to our friend when we hurt them?" They both look over at Hayan.

"I'm sorry for cutting you. I won't do it again."

"It's fine."

"Is it? You don't have to forgive her on my account."

"No, it's... It's fine. I forgive her. I know she regrets it."

Patting the bed once again, the Alpha stands. "Lata, I know we're strangers and it'll take some time to trust us. All I ask is you take it one day at a time, yes? Can you do that?"

Lata nods then quickly says, "Okay. I will."

"See to Hayan's wounds." The Alpha says to Doc and walks out.

Raising a hand to indicate two seconds, Kamil runs out to meet him. Digging hands in his pockets, the Alpha whirls onhim.

"Everyone knows about the girl. Hoping it'll be kept a secret at least for a while but..."

He shrugs but when Kamil looks apologetic, he continues. He doesn't want his favourite Major to be sorry about a life saved.

"You should take her out longer than an hour. Someone once told me the air is freshest outside. We should listen to them."

The sound of Kamil's laughter has Precious hide a small smile, liking that he can make someone laugh. That he can make him laugh.

Sensing the end of the conversation, he turns to go but Kamil stops him by snatching his hand.

"I just... I wanted to thank you, really. I know how problematic this can get fast—"

"Kamil, if I only wanted to do things when they are easy, I'll be a panda."

The corners of his mouth wrinkles when Kamil laughs again. "You'll make a cute panda."

"I know."

They smile at each other like fools, one reflected in the other's eyes—black and blue as they say but there's nothing violent here, only complimentary.

Bold and adventurous, Kamil lifts a hand to his neck and strokes it, caressing so assuredly it takes all of Precious' willpower and some more to stifle the moan bubbling in his throat but when the Major press on his Adam's apple, the traitorous moan slips out like a purr.

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