Page 33 of Total Assist (For Puck’s Sake #13)

SHIVELY

I’d asked Dasan to choose a book for me with the request that I want to read more of the same kind of omegaverse that he’d read to me on Kala.

It’s sexy as fuck with all the growling, purring, and knotting.

When he told me that all authors write omegaverse to their own tune, I suggested we stick with the same author so I don’t have to learn more rules.

Instead, he gave me a different author because he wanted me to read one of his favorites.

I’m reading He’s So Slick by Sinclair Kelly because there’s a male omega and a female omega involved in the pack.

He wants me to read other dynamics, so… I’m game.

It’s definitely different than the one he’d been reading me, but I’m a third of the way through the book and entirely enthralled.

I’m sitting at his feet on my cushion as I read. I’m naked, of course—except for my dick collar.

I lean into Dasan’s legs as I read, resting my head on his knees.

His hand will occasionally smooth through my hair when he’s not typing on his laptop.

We’re eating three sisters soup and cornbread.

He bought me a tray for the floor so I can be comfortable with my meals when we don’t eat at the table.

For a minute, I close my eyes and enjoy the warmth that spreads through my chest. I feel fortunate. I’ve spent most of my life without relationships because they constantly felt empty. I was unsatisfied with my role and could never find any sort of fulfillment of my needs.

True, I didn’t understand my needs. Only now do I understand that I’m not happy in the prescribed relationship role as designated by my assigned gender. I’m not the caretaker. I’m not the provider. I don’t want to take charge or make all the decisions.

I want to shed the weight that I carry all day when I get home, not be expected to be “the man of the house.”.

I’ve been longing for Dasan to show up in my life and completely turn it right side up. He magically aligned all the pieces that had been out of whack for years, pushed a little further and further off kilter with every relationship I attempted.

That’s just not the kind of man I am. That’s not the kind of man I want to be, either. I want to be the omega to Dasan’s alpha. This is where I thrive.

Dasan’s clackclackclack ing makes me blink out of my thoughts, though they linger around me like happy spirits. I listen to the constant rhythm of his keys. He’ll pause for a minute then continue with a rapid succession of clacks.

When his hand moves to my hair, I shift so I can look up at him. His eyes rise from his screen to meet mine, and his smile is sexy as all hell. “Can I ask what you’re typing, Alpha?”

He nods. “I write fanfiction.”

Out of all the things he could have said, that’s not what I was expecting. “You… really?”

He chuckles. “Yep. Before every home game, I sit with my laptop, a bowl of three sisters soup, and a block of cornbread. That’s my pre-game ritual.”

“Oh. What kind of fanfiction do you write?”

“Whatever I’m feeling. I have a bunch started, but recently, I’ve begun a new one—space opera omegaverse.”

My eyebrows jump. “What does that mean?”

Dasan grins. “I’ve dived into my favorite science fiction and am turning it into an omegaverse. So this is science fiction, alternate reality, and omegaverse in one.”

“I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“It might not be, but it is now. So far, my readers are eating it up.”

“People read it?”

He grins. “Yes, they read it. I began on a popular fanfiction site but have since moved to my own website.”

“That’s really cool. You’re an author.”

“A part-time author, I suppose. I only tend to write during hockey season, and nothing I write is ever edited for continuity, plot holes, spelling and whatever. I don’t make any money off it.”

“Why? You should.”

“I do it for me more than anyone else. It helps me relax before a game.”

I glance at the clock. It’s eleven in the morning. “We don’t leave for at least six hours. Do you usually do this all day?”

Dasan smiles, and it’s all kinds of wicked. “No. I usually begin at three and write until I need to shower before leaving my house.”

“Oh.”

“I have something for you, so I thought maybe I’d change up my routine. There are other ways to turn my brain off and relax, after all.”

“Dick maintenance,” I suggest.

He grins. “Not today but yes. Though I think I prefer dick maintenance after games. It’s a good release of irritation and celebration alike.”

That I knew. I smile and settle back into his leg to read some more. I wonder if Dasan will let me read what he’s writing. When his clacking begins again, I decide not to interrupt with this question. I’ll ask in a while.

I’m just about to get back into reading when my phone rings. My heart always hammers in my chest with the fear that someone is going to oust our relationship, but the name flashing on the screen has no ties to hockey at all.

I look up at Dasan for permission. “Go ahead.”

My finger hits the green button to accept the call just before I think it’ll go to voicemail.

“Hey,” I answer.

“Hey.”

“Everything okay?”

“So… we were sitting on the couch, right? We were cuddling. He got a call, and I glanced at his phone. It was an unsaved number, but I noted the area code as he answered and talked familiarly to the person on the other end. While he was talking, I looked up the area code and it’s in Tennessee. You know what I did?” Trent says.

My heart sinks. “What did you do?”

I hear his inhale. “I closed out of the browser and turned my phone screen off.”

“Good for you.”

“When he got off the phone, Oriel told me that he was talking to his aunt. She just got a new phone number, and you know what? I believe him.”

I smile. “Good. You should.”

“We’ve been going to therapy. I feel less… strung up. It feels good to trust him.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Trent. Really.”

He sighs. “I just… Well, I want to thank you. It’s not like what you told me when I was there last isn’t something you’ve told me many times, but this time I listened. I came home and talked to Oriel, and we decided to go into couple’s therapy. I haven’t pushed him away.”

“You deserve to be happy.”

“I did a shitty thing by stealing my sister’s boyfriend, but I’m still convinced he was meant to be mine anyway.”

I grin and lean into Dasan’s leg. “I get that, Trent. I think that too.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that. It felt like a breakthrough for me, and I needed to share it with someone.”

“You can share with me anytime.”

“The team doing good this year?”

Trent is not a hockey fan. I grin. “Yeah. We’re doing okay. Have a game in a few hours.”

“Cool. Maybe I’ll convince Oriel to watch it with me.”

“You do that. I’ll quiz you later.”

“Not fair. Even if I watch, I’m not going to know what I’m watching.”

“Hockey, Trent. You’ll be watching hockey.”

He snorts. “Later, Shively.”

“Bye.”

The call ends, and I sigh. It’s difficult to know when your friends are struggling, even when they’re the reason for their own struggles.

There’s a line between knowing that Trent’s paranoia is creating the situation he always found himself in and understanding that he can’t help feeling what he’s feeling.

Telling someone to stop isn’t the answer. You don’t just stop feeling an emotion because you want to. All the people with anxiety and depression and PTSD—you don’t think they want to stop feeling that way? It’s not that simple.

Trent knew he was at the root of this issue, but he felt too helpless to try to get out. He needed to assure himself that Oriel wasn’t cheating on him. He’d been the other guy before, and he didn’t want to feel the way his sister did.

It’s a strange, somewhat fucked-up situation, but I get it.

It’s easy to get lost in the book again, and I’m so drawn into the story that Dasan closing his laptop an hour later makes me jump. I look at him over my shoulder.

“You at a good breaking point?”

I flip through the pages until I find the next chapter break. “I have three-quarters of a page left in this chapter.”

“Finish. Finish your soup as well.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

I do as I’m told. I situate the book in the stand attached to the tray that keeps it open so I can read while I finish the bit of soup left. It’s cool now, but I don’t mind. It’s still really good. I hope Dasan will teach me how to make it for him one day.

My soup is gone by the time I finish the chapter. After placing the bookmark between the pages, I set it aside and get to my feet. Adding Dasan’s dishes to my tray, I bring everything into the kitchen and clean up.

Talking to the other subs at the Kala meet-up was…

educational. While some things turned me off completely, others intrigued me.

I’m not big on enjoying household chores, but the idea of doing some chores for Dasan hits me differently.

It’s not something I’ve been able to put into words yet, though through my journal entries, I’ve been trying.

I visit this topic often to see if I can work out why I take such enjoyment from it.

When the dishes are put away and the tray is back in its storage spot, I join Dasan in the living room again.

He’s packing his laptop back in his bag.

We’re at my house, of course. The change in scenery isn’t worth the risk of his friends dropping in while I’m getting railed on my hands and knees on his couch.

“Put your leash on, omega,” Dasan says.

The leash is sitting on the coffee table, and I clip it to the little D-ring at the top of my collar before offering Dasan the handle.

“Good boy,” he says and rewards me with a kiss.

I wait until there’s a gentle tug on my cock before following. He likes me to feel that I’m being led around, so I always make sure there’s tension on the leash. Like a dog who doesn’t quite want to be led around.

In the bedroom, he takes my collar off and sets it aside. “Hands and knees, sweetheart. Begin prepping yourself.”

I do as I’m told. I’ve angled myself so I can watch Dasan undress. He’s not in a hurry, watching me as intently as I’m watching him. The moment his cock is released, my lungs try to seize. God, that thing fits inside me. It ignites me!

Dasan moves around the room until he’s out of sight, leaving me fingering and stretching myself all on my own.

It’s still an awkward experience that I don’t particularly enjoy, but it’s necessary.

I know the difference between mediocre preparation and good preparation, and while I enjoy feeling the reminder that Dasan has been inside my body for days to come, it’s better when it feels good right off the bat.

Dasan shifts on the bed behind me. “On your back. We’re not using a condom today.”

I take a breath and nod. It’s not that I’m opposed to going bare. I love going bare, but it still brings me a moment of anxiety. It’s been the topic of one of my journal entries. A new rule appeared shortly after, telling me he’d read it.

This is one of those things that my alpha has decided he’ll be pushing my comfort zone on. We got tested, so we know we have clean bills of health. We can’t get pregnant. Mess isn’t the issue. It’s just… me. It makes me nervous.

The rule is that we will use condoms most of the time, but my alpha will decide when he wants to breed me without a condom. I’m allowed to safeword out if I choose.

Dasan arranges me around him, his big cockhead at my hole. The moment he begins pushing inside me, it’s liquid fire, his barbell dragging a hot line of pleasure the further it goes. I immediately begin whining and begging for more. More pleasure. More of him. Just more.

He thrusts into me until I beg for an orgasm, then he comes down on me, his mouth to mine. “Want to know what I have for you, omega?” he asks, voice low. I’m imagining him purring, right? That’s just lingering around from reading.

“What?” I ask, breathless.

“Today, you get to come as often as you want on my dick while I take pleasure from your hole until I’m ready to fill you with my seed. That’s a good gift, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I say. “The best gift, Alpha. You spoil me.”

He chuckles. “Not yet, but I fully intend to spoil you. For the rest of your days, sweetheart.”

A smile climbs my face as I stare into his dark eyes. His hair falls around us like a curtain, shutting out the world so it’s only us. He’s so beautiful. I touch his face, feeling his soft skin. I’ll never get tired of looking at him. Feeling him.

“Ready to come for me, Shiv?”

I nod. “It’s going to be quick, Alpha. Your dick is magic.”

He grins and begins fucking me. He twists me and curls me, the angle of his cock sending almost painfully good jolts of pleasure through me. I feel as if I’m attached to a live wire as he takes my body.

I come quickly because he said I can, because I need to and I don’t have to fight to hold it. But coming early has its drawbacks. Now, every single thrust feels like little needles. The pleasure is laced with something that makes me tingle.

I’m sensitive. My orgasm tank is already filling again, and I know the next one is going to be achingly good. If I have more after that, they’ll get more and more intense. The pleasure will be lined with delicious pain.

I’m not sure if I’m looking forward to it or not. I’m afraid of pain, but the pain Dasan gives me in these moments is sweet, sweet agony.