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hollyhomburg · 4 months ago

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Before I Leave you (Pt.79)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: It's Hoseok's turn to breed you through your heat, but Namjoon won't let him have it easily.

Tags: Group sex, Sub! m/c, Dom! Namjoon, Sub! Hobi, d/s, threesome, comparing knots, Cumplay, size kink, big dick Namjoon, womb fucking, belly bulge, slight inflation kink, breeding kink, clit torture if you squint, overstimulation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, inspection kink, humiliation kink, implied cuckolding, very brief human furniture, puppy play, puppy space Hobi, collars, dominance displays, brief angst, filthy sex becomes lovey dovey, porn without plot.

W/c: 12.0k

A/n: ahhhhh here it is <3 the second part of last chapter that i split last minute <3 more filth but at least it's Hobi filth <3 keep your eyes wide open on the ending! this one is a bit of a cliffhanger <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Namjoon doesn’t stop fucking you for most of the second day. It’s kind of…eerie, the quiet that takes over while the pack alpha takes you apart.

Jin and Jungkook got fucked through the night while you slept but now that you’re awake and the others are asleep, Namjoon tends to you diligently. Possessive. It is in the nature of any alpha, under the effects of their instincts, to covet an omega.

That doesn't make it any easier for the other alpha's to sit aside and wait.

It would be easier if they could sleep. But the alpha’s can’t, kept awake by your hormones on the air, the sensitive heat hush that covers them thick and sweet. They almost circle you like prey.

Namjoon is not entirely heartless. He lets Jimin lick and lap at what you can’t keep in between your second and third knotting (if only because Namjoon can't knot you and devour you at the same time). Namjoon cums a lot when he knots, a hot flood that leaves you feeling warm and claimed. Cozy even. Sticky and wet and hot soaking your insides until you’re full.

Namjoon’s knot is so big and you are so tiny. None of them are surprised when your stomach starts to look a little bloated. A little pregnant already.

The whole pack can't help but salivate after it, your tummy bulge. hands roaming, appreciative and gentle.

What can't fit slides out after Namjoon knots. Big globs of it, spilling and squishing regardless of your panic. Your instincts tell you that you can't let any of it go to waste. But it's inevitable. You can hardly clench down anymore. It turns your your lap sticky and messy when he fucks you. Trails of cum sticking to your ass when Namjoon presses flush. So much cum, so much spend that it leaves you ruined.

Tae is unapologetically into it, petting over your stomach and cooing at your mess any chance that Namjoon lets her. Any time he lets her get near. A little territorial. Growling at her when she gets a little bit too much.

“Look pup, alpha’s already gotten you pregnant, so fucked up you’re already swollen. How about here?" She paws at your sensitive chest, and you are too weak to push at her. perilous against the lightning bolts of pleasure that zing through your being as she plays with you. Hobi still holds your hand and feels your heartbeat, bunny fast against his fingertips.

He’s doing good, waiting for Namjoon to give him the go-ahead. (Waiting for his master to give him his turn. Staying like a good puppy.)

“Should we try and see if you’re already making milk?”

You whine as Tae bites and sucks at your chest and Namjoon keeps fucking you. Until your nipples are pink and bitten and swollen from the attention. Nipples harder, whole chest looking bigger than usual.

It must just be the heat, surely.

Tae likes to suck. It soothes both of you while the pack alpha knots you, his knotting long and drawn out. Your hormones are thick and heady on the air. Hobi's pretty sure they're all close to knotting, will knot the air if Namjoon doesn't let them have a turn soon.

But Namjoon is greedy with you in heat. Let's the others stew and wait their turn. Neither Jimin nor Tae touch so Hobi doesn't touch either even though he's straining at the fabric of his boxers.

No sooner has his knot gone down than is he fucking you again. Cock never flagging, even if Namjoon is ever so slightly starting to look tired. You stay like that, a willing doll.

You like being the pack's little omega doll, their nest warmer, their breeding bitch (not that Namjoon would ever call you that, and any alpha that did would get the punishment of the lifetime) But you take all of it, all of his cum. Let him put you through your paces no matter how full you get.

Your entrance is pink and wrecked when he does bother to take it out and show the rest of the pack how he’s bred you. Putting his fingers in and showing them how pink you are on the inside. The way his cum gushes out, especially when someone bothers to pay attention to your clit or ghost their fingers lower over your other hole.

You let them touch you, let them explore. Cuddled up on Hobi's chest. His arms around your back, protecting you a little, soothing your little whines as you teethe on his scent gland as gently as you can. You seem to like doing that. Fixating on Hobi's scent when the others are being particularly mean. Like you need something to settle you. His cock pressed between your stomach and his, close just like you need.

Without Yoongi awake, Hoseok is the next best thing. You wish you could speak; wish you could tell him that. Hoseok is not small but compared to Namjoon… it couldn't hurt anymore right?

You wish you could talk, wish could tell Namjoon that you could probably fit both at once! You're a good pup! And you like Hobi…and Taetae and Minnie and Joonie. It's hard so hard to choose.

It's a good thing you're not in control right now or else you might try and do something stupid like take all of them at once. You have three holes and 4 alphas; the math doesn't really work. You have approximately 3 fully functional brain cells right now. (For all you know, two plus two might as well equal Noodle.)

Your belly bulge is especially noticeable when they shift you onto your hands and knees, Sloshy. Dripping out loud and messy whenever Namjoon pulls out. You can’t keep it all in no matter how hard you try and clench but...namjoon's broken you a little. You tremble, clenching wildly, your body overstimulated and twitchy from so many orgasms.

"Ah poor little pup, did alpha give you too much? Are you too full pup?" But you always shake your head, whining for more.

Thank god for contraceptives. You’d actually get pregnant, no way around it. If Namjoon ever fucked you without one during a heat. Whenever you do decide to have pups it will probably only take one try, Namjoon will probably pup you just because of his length alone, will beat out all the others.

The heat fever gives you amazing daydreams; especially when it spikes particularly high and your brain goes hazy. You imagine it; you on a breeding bench, heat warm and needy just like now. Tied up with pretty little ribbons to keep you still and settled. Yoongi, and Jinnie and Jungkook talking you through it. Each of the alpha is lining up behind you to breed you.

Maybe they'd play rock paper scissors to see who got to go first. To see who got the best odds. They might not even knot you to make it fair. You imagine wearing a plug after to keep all of it safe and snug inside. You imagine the others treating you gingerly and Jinnie petting over your stomach telling you you did a good job, yoongi ducking low to sniff at your stomach and check if you're pupped already. jungkook whining that he wants to be next.

You imagine them cradling you for the next few hours, so gentle and delicate with you, just like they are now (none of what Namjoon does to you is mean or hurts, it feels so good you feel like you're going a bit insane is all, a bit fucked dumb) just to make sure it takes.

Getting pupped outside of a heat is pretty unlikely. You might make them roleplay that with you in the future. Just because you like the idea of it so much. Your brain goes dizzy, and suddenly in your fantasy, it's Jinnie tied up and not you. He'd look so pretty pupped. you'd make him the best best nest.

Namjoon keeps fucking you, nosing at your throat where your purr comes from, loud and rippling. The picture of a satisfied omega, stuck on a half popped knot, heavy with cum and purring.

"Having sweet dreams pup?" He teases. His shoulders feel puffed up, his ego substantially stroked.

Namjoon is a little torturous with the way he keeps the alphas a bay, the way he bends and puts you through your paces. Your heat does not strain Namjoon in the slightest.

He tugs out of you, sitting on his heels. His cock is pink-tipped and wet, hard and big. You are close to sleep, Namjoon can smell it on the edge of your scent. He's just about to turn, just about to ask hoseok if he wants to fuck you to bed when you whine and dig your heals into his hips, urging him back in.

But thats all your capable off. You're so tired. Exhaustion makes you feel like you're going to pass out. But you still want a knot, still need it.

He pulls you up, your body is so limp, so limp, but you do drag yourself onto your knees, hands demurely supporting you between your legs, a universal 'good pup' posture that Hobi finds himself mirroring, watching and waiting. You put your hand to your stomach and hiss at the full feeling. Between your legs, you drip.

A look to the side says and Tae and Jimin are similarly posed. The three of them waiting and at attention. Waiting for the pack alpha to give the others permission. Waiting to see which one he'll select to fuck you next.

But not yet, the pack alpha isn't done with you yet.

He stops for a moment, feeling your forehead, cupping your cheek gently. humming low. You still burn with fever, too high, too much, body not quite there yet. This patch of your heat will probably be the worst, probably be the hottest you'll get. Namjoon can't imagine you getting much warmer to the touch.

If you do. He doesn't want to think of taking you out of this room let alone out of the den. But he will if he has to. They have fever stabilizers and banana bags for hydration at the hospital. You probably need both.

You squirm, and Namjoon's instincts flare.

"Maybe I really have spoiled you too much pup, If you don't want to sleep yet and say you've got enough energy for another knot-" Namjoon taps his thigh. “Why don’t you take your seat little omega, show alpha how much you want it."

You start to whine, to protest as he pulls you up. You are terribly sleepy, and really! too small to take him on your own! But Namjoon's glower is threatening enough that you don't really try to fight it. Your pout cute and your whines go unheard.

You teeter over to him, and he turns you, making you face the rest of the alpha's. He sits back and you hold yourself up on shaky knees, his thighs parted so that you can get close enough that your back is pressed to his chest. Hot and big and powerful behind you.

He's hardly even helping you guide yourself. You hesitate, reaching back blindly for his length. Your hand can't even wrap around it all the way. You teeter, trying to figure out how you want to sit. Holding yourself up just barely, how should you-

Namjoon nudges his cock forward, just barely pressing against your hole, parting you ever so slightly. You gasp, chest heaving. It's just as big and thick as ever. The three other alphas watch you with beady eyes, Jimin jerks in your direction but holds himself back just barely.

Namjoon wiggles his hips, his hand splaying on your hip, gripping the soft swell of your body there. Making you feel his girth, his thickness. His breath is hot on the back of your neck. “Sit on my knot like a good girl now, you liked it so much when Alpha was doing all the work. Come here. Show me how much you like it."

You shuffle, gingerly sitting back and He presses forward. you don't fuck like this like ever. Never are you really in control. Never are you on top, not even with yoongi. you don't know how to set the pace.

When you sit back namjoon's cock doesn't go in like you intend, it slips out and up. Sliding up past your open entrance and up through your messy pussy to nudge your clit and rub. Coating his cock in a mix of slick and cum while he tuts.

You hiccup and settle your hands on his shoulders, trying again and using them to guide you. You find the right position and actually do sit down. Lowering your body onto his cock until your ass hits his thighs.

You shake through the last inch, knees to your chest, and you can't even breathe. Namjoon's so big, it takes your breath away.

Being sat on Namjoon’s cock like this makes your whole body tremble. Full body shudders. He’s so deep like this, so deep that after a few shaky tries, a few moments of trying to grind. You fall, setting your full weight on it, pushing him ever deeper.

You pause, hesitating, crying, breathing.

Namjoon lands a swat over your behind and you jump, whole body shaking. "Move omega,"

"I can't, I can't alpha!" you sob, hands on the nest infront of you, unsure if you're about to start sobbing or squirting or both.

"Poor little dumb puppy, can't even fuck right, I'll show you." Namjoon holds you under your thighs and lifts you up a little, the whole room spins.

"you go up" the nest disappears from underneath you. "and then you go down."

A broken moan shatters from your throat as he lowers you onto his cock. Pleasure hits you like a punch to your gut. A physical blow or an anchor that pulls you under. Makes you sob. It's so much.

But it can't be too much, Namjoon would never give you more than you could handle. Your hole is sensitive but you're not in pain, just desperate to soothe the ache inside of you, an ache that only Namjoon can fix. If alpha's not stopping, then you're alright. You're fine. you repeat that to yourself like a mantra and you find it's mostly true.

Namjoon picks you up and puts you down on his cock a few more times. Then he looks to the others. he summons jimin with a jerk of his chin and the other alpha all but rushes over.

"Jiminie will help you, since you're too far gone to fuck Alpha like you want to. It's my fault, I should have made you learn before I fucked you dumb."

Tae and Hobi almost look scolded at not being chosen. Tae lets out a whine, but a soft growl from Namjoon has her falling quiet. They fight for the opportunity to do this; to help the pack alpha fuck the omega they all want. All of this- every second reinforces the fact that they all know, they all feel in their chests and instincts.

Namjoon's on top. Namjoon's the alpha, the one they all have to listen to. They won't get anything, not a drop of your slick or an inch of relief inside of you- not if he doesn't say so. Not if he doesn't allow it.

You knew Jimin was strong, he carried Jungkook earlier so you shouldn't be so surprised. But you hiccup and try and protest as he picks you up so easily under your thighs, forcing you up and down on Namjoon’s knot like you weigh nothing.

Jerking you close to his chest to get a better grip, altering the angle. You claw and paw at Jimin's shoulders, the back of his neck, his collar jingling against your cheek. Clanging against yours.

Namjoon pauses for a second, there is a latch on the front of jimin's collar and a loop on the front of yours. Namjoon's deft fingers lock you together, keeping you anchored to Jimin.

You are face to face with him as he does it, you feel jimin's deep growl against your front, watching his pupiles dilate. His hands fist in your thighs, holding you hard, holding you steady. You have a feeling you'll have bruises in the shape of his hands on you after this.

He picks you up, bringing you off of Namjoon's cock, just far enough that his heat hovers just inside.

And then places you back down. Sheathing him inside you in one smooth movement. Letting your body's weight push you down on him. You hiccup and Namjoon feels it from the inside.

It goes like that for what could be minutes or hours, days or seconds. He picks you up and puts you down, fucking you up and down like you're little more than a fleshlight for your alpha.

Maybe it would feel that way if it wasn't for how he kisses at your brow and laps away your tears, mumbling out "Good omega love you so much, love this, so pretty and good for us, so perfect. Our perfect knot slut." Your belly bulge pressed to his stomach, his cock nudging Namjoon’s where it’s inside of you. Not pressing in, but Jimin feels it, the bulge in your stomach pressing against his cock. It's so filthy. The way your eyes roll back.

You don't notice, but Jimin cums against it, from the friction or from everything else. Marking your tummy. Too eager too turned on to stop himself.

"Good pup" you're not quite sure who namjoon's talking too- but it makes you feel warm regardless.

Namjoon guides you to wrap your arms around Jimin's neck, and you rest your head on Jimin’s shoulder. You close your eyes and let the world disappear around you. Narrowing down to the sensations in your body.

The feeling of strong arms holding you. Namjoon's teeth scruffing you dumb. Pleasure bursting like fireworks behind your eyelids. toes curling and head lolling. The hot pain pleasure of his cock splitting you open. The husky words Jimin whispers against your ear.

“That’s it pup just take it, that’s it, I've got you- we’ve got you.”

~-~

When you come too next, you are being absolutely smothered. First by the bodies around you and then by the affection.

Yoongi is running a brush through your hair, detangling it so gently that you hardly feel the tugging, the body in Infront of you is warm and feverish, and the body behind you is strong and muscled.

You pick your head up from Jin’s chest and behind you Jungkook groans. Arms around your waist going tighter. Reluctant to be parted from you.

You want to tell him that there's no one taking you from him, that you are so tired that picking up your head takes a tremendous herculean effort. But you're too tired to speak let alone soothe him. You can taste the fever on the back of your throat and you know you're not out of the woods yet.

Jin was? Feeding you? Licking your face? Grooming you? It's hard to tell just what kind of care he was giving you only that your chest feels open, less tight, less frantic. You feel sore but sated, damp faintly all over. Although you can tell by the way your thighs feel when they move against each other that it's soap, or something sudsy and not slick and cum anymore.

“Ready to join the land of the living pup?” Yoongi teases, fingers running over the nobs of your spine possessively, it’s a bit abnormal for Yoongi. It must be your heat slick making him act like that.

There is also a faint fullness, a plug snug in your hole, keeping what's left in your tummy from spilling out. It's a big plug, you can feel it as you squirm. When your heat fever spikes, you clench down on it and the thickness settles you. It makes you feel stretched out and relaxed, and simulates a knot that never goes down. thats so thoughtful, your pack are so thoughtful cleaning you up but keeping you full.

You lick your lips and rub your nose against Jin's neck. Pressing closer. There is a hand on your chin, making you look up, prying you away from the safe hollow of his throat. Yoongi's eyes are melted chocolate. You rest your cheek against Jin's bare chest and look up at him.

"You kept whining for it."

"I did?" Yoongi kisses your brow.

"Yup. Practically milked Joonie dry, looked like a shriveled old rasin. He needs a good hour but then his dick will stop being broken. You need to eat next, before you take any more." Yoongi's no-nonsense tone is one you're intimately familiar with.

"Okay." You say, feeling small. Voice quiet. Yoongi tugs the brush through your ends.

Speaking of Namjoon Where are the alphas? You don't feel them next to you, it's not them cuddling you- just your omegas and Yoongi.

Distantly you realize you can hear the alpha's- they're still in the nest, they're just not paying attention to you. You rub your face, your lips against Jin's shoulders. A whine building.

“Tae, no fair! You’re pushing out your hips!”

“I don’t think It works that way Minnie. I've been longer than you for like 10 years-”

You peak over jin's shoulder, tentative, and yoongi sighs. Hormones no longer cloud the air. You must all be between spikes at the same time. You duck back down behind the covers quick. You don't like that your alpha's are arguing, not quite sure what it means.

Both Jin and Yoongi look from them to you.

“Oh my little puppy.”

You sniffle, overwhelmed as Jin bundles you close to his chest. Behind you, Yoongi hums, as close to a purr as his beta body is capable of mating. Jungkook continues to nuzzle into your back completely asleep.

Omega cuddles are exactly what you need. They're so warm. So soft around you. You missed your omegas. You might have been barely a few feet apart from each other. And you’re pretty sure you demanded to hold hands with Yoongi the last time Namjoon knotted you. But you missed them.

You’re not quite sure why you’re crying only that it’s mostly a happy cry as you nuzzle and push your face into his throat. Hiccupping until you calm down. Heats are- intense, but Jin doesn't seem like he's having as much difficulty as you are.

He's older. He's more experienced. Jin just shushes you. But you can tell he knows it's a good sort of crying, the kind that gets any lingering yuckyness out.

Jin shushes you tucking you under his chin and urging you to press your nose to his scent gland. You rub your lips and nose there over and over again. side to side. Up and down thoroughly covering his skin with your scent. Once your hiccuping, has subsided, and your face has been whipped free from tears. You turn and look.

Your alphas are- maybe they’re wrestling? Their hair certainly looks all messed up, if Tae's hair looks so much like a bird's nest you don’t want to imagine what yours looks like- or looked like- until Jin commanded Yoongi to give you a good ol' omega brushing.

“Was I good? Am I being good?” You ask, Jin pecks your nose, you can tell the heat still isn’t over, a haze on the edge of your vision. Making your words slow and small.

“The best” Jin nuzzles. “Your cute little cunt squirted every single time Joonie knotted you- made the others feel a bit competitive- Jiminie tried to fuck you to get you to do it and only got it half the time. They’re comparing knots now.” Jin says it with a vague tone of annoyance. Crinkling his nose at it.

Yoongi huffs behind you, putting the brush down. “They do this every heat. I don’t know why they expect it to change.”

Your alphas kneel in a circle, each of them standing hard and proud, the knots at the base of their cock’s explored with a giggle. Big hands wandering, knuckles rubbing, grabbing. Hobi sags against Namjoon’s shoulder as the alpha explores him, checking his knot with hungry hands. Did Hobi fuck you? You can't remember. You shift, feeling slick gathering between your thighs as you look.

You think you'd remember it.

You bury your face in Jin's chest again to try and calm your racing heart. But he just hums. "Oh? Getting worked up puppy?" You pick your head up and nod, propping your chin on Jin's shoulder, and go back to watching.

Behind you Jungkook shifts in his sleep his soft omegan cock squishes against your backside, strangely soft. It's comforting to cuddle with them nude like this. To do it without any worry or nagging sense of inadequacy or insecurity. They like where you're soft, it makes you a good cuddler, a good nestmate.

Yoongi does not watch the alphas, Yoongi continues to pet over the top of your head, watching just you.

“Hyung- hyung don’t-"

Namjoon laughs, and Hobi's cock slaps against his stomach. The head of Tae's cock presses against Jimin's in a weird almost kiss, her dress brought up draping Roman-like over her length.

“Let me touch it-“

“If I let you will you promise not to pinch?”

“But you just feel so squishy.”

The head of Hobi's cock bumps against Namjoon’s all pink and velvety. Namjoon’s cock looks impossibly large in Tae's hands. What you can see through their bodies makes your stomach swoop and your scent spike.

Jin noses into your neck, scenting you back until you're trembling and above you, Yoongi watches on hungrily, Jin's teeth nip at the shell of your ear, and your whole-body jumps.

“Should we compare tummies and make them pay attention to us?” Jin offers.

Your answering chirp in approval has 4 heads jerking in your direction.

~-~

Hoseok gets his chance with you when he least expects it.

All of this is routine, the fucking, the food, the love. But challenging Namjoon is not something Hoseok usually does. Not unless he wants to be drawn over the pack alpha's lap for a forceful settling.

Hoseok's settling looks a little different today.

Jimin and Tae finally have something else to fixate on when Jungkook wakes and demands a knot for his hole and another one for his mouth (as cutely as you can picture it). Yoongi of course has a different need of yours that he aims to fix, feeding you sleepy bites while you’re knotted to Namjoon, happy and full in every way with a warm alpha back inside of you. Sitting on Namjoon’s knot easily now that you’re used to it. the plug had done its job of keeping you open and full.

He keeps you stuck there until it goes down, scented dumb and satisfied for now. It’s the perfect time to convince you to eat. You can't fuss too much down in omegaspace, eager as always, to be good for your pack alpha.

"Good pups eat their food, or else alpha can't pup them right, have to stay healthy for alpha." You nod, mouth going slack, opening obediently. It's stunning that thats all it takes.

Namjoon asks and you open, Namjoon asks you to sip and you do, Namjoon tells you to breathe, and you gasp.

Hoseok sits beside you, holding the tray of food for Yoongi, he keeps it straight, keeps it from tipping. An unusual amount of effort goes into doing that small task. Hoseok treats it like he's holding a nuclear bomb. Eyes going from every bite of food as it travels from the tray to your mouth.

Hoseok doesn't mind, it's a good task, good to have something to focus on.

The subspace haze makes Hobi just as good of a pup as you are. Namjoon even lets Hobi feed you too! Your tongue slides against his fingers, licking up sweet strawberry juice. Lapping at them lewdly.

"Good puppies. kiss hobi in thank you pup."

Your kiss is soft and sweet, a little open mouthed, a little pupish. Hobi resists the animal part of him that wants to lick into your mouth for strawberry sweetness and puppy kisses. He laps once, twice, and there is a hand in his hair pulling him back with a tisking noise. Yoongi, looking down at him with a dark indecipherable look in his eyes.

Then he looks at Namjoon, a passing glance and subtext that Hoseok misses, too busy biting back a whine and Yoongi's grip goes slack in his hair. The moment passes without comment or verbal command.

Yoongi's delicate hands scratch behind Hobi's ears and he makes a soft happy sound in the back of his throat. Soft little chuffs.

You stare at them, each of them, wide bunny eyes blinking slowly. eyes glassy. Not saying anything. Shaking your head when they ask questions or nodding cutely. A bit non-verbal.

It's a bit harder to hide when you're verbal. When you decide you do want to babble.

Hoseok is glad for the tray, his cock hasn’t gone soft, not at all, after basically being edged all morning. it's harder to ignore when you go mouthy.

It’s cute, even you chew and accept sweet bites from your fingers, your eyes remain fixed on Namjoon. Babbling around the sweet nibbles. “Love Alpha so much, knot so big and puffy! Love his knot wanna kiss it, wanna eat it-”

Yoongi shoves a piece of bread at your lips to make you stop babbling out your filth. You chew, eyes fixed on him with wide eyes. “Joonie needs to last for the rest of your heat- you can't eat him yet. preferably never but-”

"But- but-" tears dance treacherously on your waterline, threatening to spill.

Namjoon pipes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and resting a protective and possessive hand on your stomach. Nibbling at your throat, your neck. "I'll eat you first." You giggle and push at him, but it's halfhearted.

Hoseok's eyes remain fixated on you. Hands tight on the tray. Canine hooked over his lower lip. Hobi holds the tray so steady that it doesn't even bob and dip with his breathing.

Once Namjoon’s knot has gone down again, he hisses. The skin around the base of it is going sensitive but you're still needy. You wiggle your hips and whine but Namjoon sets you back into the nest on your side. So careful with you that it makes Hoseok ache.

Your sensitive tummy is protected between your body and the nest. Namjoon lies you out so gently, careful with you. You have bruises everywhere; on your chest, your neck, your thighs. Hand shapes and hickeys. Even a heart shaped one because tae decided you deserved one.

Maybe they haven't been as gentle with you as they think.

If you're strained at all you don't show it, sighing into the nest, gripping handfuls of it in your fists, clinging to it. Kneading the fluff of it a little before your body goes boneless.

Yoongi ducks in close and kisses Namjoon, you, then Hobi, before he takes the tray he shuffles to the other side of the nest the tray of food in hand, intent on also convincing Jin and Jungkook to at least take a nibble.

You whine. High and petulant. Nuzzling into the nest, trying to sate this feeling in your chest.

A warm palm flutters down your spine, comforting. “Ah, my cute needy little pup, what are we to do with you huh? Still insatiable after all of that? You still need more?”

Yes, yes you do. The fire is still burning through you, you’re still in heat. Namjoon is a good alpha (Even if honestly- he’s getting a little tired)

Hobi takes his usual position, holding your hands while Namjoon has you. Sliding between your legs. You're belly down, not even holding yourself up. But you deserve to have it like this, no work, just Namjoon's weight behind you and his knot in your hole.

Hoseok feels a nagging worry in the back of his mind. it's barely been what- two seconds? Since he pulled out. You can't be having another heatspike so soon.

You're about 18 hours in already. Probably nearing the middle of your heat and the worst of it. But then again- maybe you have your worst spikes near the end like Jungkookie. Maybe you're just warming up- making up for lost time.

Hobi holds your hands through it, through this breeding session too. just like he did with Yoongi and Namjoon's first few bouts.

Hobi keeps you from scrabbling, trying to claw yourself away from too much pleasure. It still gets to you- the panic. It's always immediate. Whenever you feel Namjoon prod. Some hidden animal part of you that wants to resist, that like him, needs to be settled.

Hobi holds your hands, looking down, transfixed by the way your body moves. Hoseok is very very good at holding things, isn't he? He's being a good puppy. The best puppy.

You squirm, and Namjoon's instincts flare.

Namjoon leans down, pressing a kiss to your nape, meanly pressing in further, harder. You are so hot inside, the heat fever tearing through you now that you have a little food in your stomach and more energy to burn. Warm and wet and tight. Your eyes roll back and Hobi can do nothing but watch.

But Namjoon's pace stutters.

It's understandable. This is the 5th knot he’s given you in as many hours. It's sometime after mid-day and it's been probably around 30 hours since he's slept. Namjoon's only human. He can't last forever. Hoseok's honestly a little surprised that Namjoon hasn't tapped out yet, that his knot isn't ready to fall off.

But Hoseok watches his pace falter and his lip lifts. It's an instinct to growl. Namjoon spies it, hackles raising.

Alpha instincts are a peculiar thing.

“You think you could do better?” Namjoon taunts, a little playfully. Arms bulging as he holds himself up, trusting harder into you. Almost in retaliation. Hobi blushes, looks away, successfully chastised.

Hoseok shouldn't be intimidated, Namjoon might be the pack alpha, but Hobi has still seen him put his shoes on the wrong feet before and leave the house- too many times to count.

The growl comes out of his mouth before he thinks better about it. Loud. Across the nest. Jin lifts his head, woken up by it, hair all fluffy. Yoongi combs over it to settle him.

Namjoon stops moving.

Hobi clamps a hand over his mouth in surprise and the snarl becomes a whine. “Yes! No! Maybe- I think I-.” Hobi hovers unsure, bashful at being caught snarling at the pack alpha.

Namjoon is not one to let this kind of thing slide especially not during a heat.

Namjoon slides out of you, long and hard and hot, you whimper. You don't like feeling empty. You try to push back on him but are stopped by a hand pressed blank your pussy, Namjoon's fingers brushing your hole, fucked open and messy. Gaping just a little, dripping a bit of cum onto the nest until you tighten up.

You whine. Loud and grating. Hoseok's instincts make him want to gnash his teeth. It sets him on edge. Across the nest, Yoongi turns, distracted from his task of trying to convince Jungkook to suck on a straw instead of trying to suck on his dick, Alarmed at the sound of your whine. The desperation in it.

“Alright alright, calm down,” Namjoon says, kind of laughing through it, kind of high. Namjoon is the picture of restraint, he's not a knothead, not like Hobi. He doesn't snarl and push and fight at another alpha challenging him. No- Namjoon looks at Hobi, a mean glint in his eye.

Namjoon can get a little scary when he's got something to prove, even scarier when he's got a job to do.

Your collar is there by the edge of the nest, taken out when Jimin put on his, black with a golden puppy tag, the twin to Hobi's red one. Your pink one is showing its wear; worn at the hole in the buckle, the one that fits you nice and loose. Perfect as a handhold.

Namjoon points and Hobi gets it before he's even registered that he's following a nonverbal order. Flushing as he takes off the bell and then tries to hand it over.

But Namjoon just eyes your throat expectantly.

Making one sub-collar another is- well-

Hobi's hands stutter, shaky with anticipation as he tries to fit it around your throat. It takes him several tries to get it latched properly. Namjoon’s cock twitches as Hobi looks up for his approval. You push into his hands, purring loudly. No longer displeased at not being filled if you can teeth at the scent gland on his wrist.

Namjoon pulls back and away from you. Heavy cock throbbing, pulsing dully- but in all reality- edging himself will only help everyone in the long run. You’re already so wet on the inside, full of Yoongi and Jimin's and Tae’s cum not just Namjoon's.

But not Hobi's, not yet. Namjoon should fix that.

Namjoon reaches for Hobi's collar and puts it on him, testing the give, pulling him this way and that until he’s satisfied with it. Hoseok whines at being pushed around, tugged almost until he falls over, but he lets Namjoon do it. Obedient.

Namjoon pulls him over to where he sits, behind you, almost between your legs.

There is a bit of whiteness, leftover cum, covers Namjoon’s cock, milky at the tip. You drip slick a little, your pussy lips red and a bit inflamed from the ceaseless friction of his balls flopping forward and hitting where you’re sensitive. Namjoon palms blatantly between your legs checking with a dimply smile to make sure Hobi's watching. you mewl. But Namjoon just grins at Hobi. His fingers still hooked in his collar.

You mewl loudly and Namjoon puts his fingers back where you want them. "Oh don't be a brat, alpha's right here pup."

Hoseok's cock twitches at being manhandled, especially when Namjoon slides that hand down Hobi's midline, feeling him up and Hoseok lets him. Hoseok would let Namjoon do anything. He doesn't even flinch or growl when Namjoon pushes his thigh apart and pushes down his boxers. Palming his knot, examining him. Wrapping his big hands around it and testing where his knot will form. Rubbing at the sensitive skin with talented fingers.

It gives Hobi no small amount of pride that his hand does not cover all of Hobi's cock. He's still sizable. still long even if he's not nearly as thick as the others. Hoseok's scent fluffs out a little stronger at that.

Namjoon has one hand in you, hooked into your hole to soothe you, and the other wrapped around Hobi's cock as he says it.

“Show me then, show the pack alpha that you know to breed.”

Hoseok tries to pull back pull away, saying “But one of the others might want- I don’t need-” as if Hobi hasn’t been hard and trembling since the early hours of the morning, as if he hasn’t been edged by the ceaseless lewdness of you.

Namjoon does not take Hoseok’s excuses, tugging him by his collar “Oh, do you not remember puppy? Don’t worry, alpha can show you how to knot.”

Hoseok knows better than to protest, lets Namjoon lead him to you, lets him tug until Hobi is in between your legs. Namjoon close behind him. Guided by the pack alpha. Namjoon takes his hands in his and places them on your hips, the round fat of your behind. Hands smoothing up and down your sides.

Tentative and shy. Namjoon doesn’t allow him to pull his punches, holding his hips first, then your cheeks apart. You nuzzle forward into the sheets, completely lost to the world. But you start to push back into their hands. Peering up at Hobi shyly.

“Oh? You want to watch me show puppy how to knot you?” You turn your cheek, resting it against the nest so that you can peer back at both of them.

Hobi’s so pretty. Pretty alpha, want to see your pretty alpha with his pretty little knot, wanna kiss it cuz it's pretty and he's pretty and you love Hobi-

Beside you, Jin looks over and grins. There you go, talking out loud when you think you're not again. Hoseok's face is as red as the aburn in his hair.

Namjoon’s dark chuckle makes Hoseok’s cock twitch. Jumping. dripping just a little. “Puppy only knows how to breed like doggies do l sweet thing, don’t you want to show him how well you can present? Go on, show alpha.”

Hobi wants to say that he knows that he knows how to fuck, he does, he's fucked you before and you've liked it, he swears he knows how. But maybe breeding and fucking are two different things? Surely Alpha knows. Namjoon's hands are hot and greedy, touching Hobi's hips, his chest, and the narrow plane of his hips. Hoseok has always been a slender alpha and behind him Namjoon feels impossibly big and strong.

Steadying.

The thrall of sweet submission bleeds down Hobi’s back at odds with the humiliation. The tingle of not being the one in charge right now, the one not being in control is so alluring that it’s hard to resist temptation.

Hoseok has not slept either, Hoseok has stayed up with Namjoon and you through it. Just incase. Just incase anyone needed him.

Hobi doesn’t want to resist. At the pack alpha's laughter, he shuffles forward, blushing hard, cheeks red. "I can do it, I know-" how to knot. Gets caught in his throat.

Namjoon pecks the nape of his neck. "I'm sure you do pup, but alpha can show you anyway."

Descending down into subspace with you while you’re in heat might be exactly what he needs to overcome all of this- the lingering tension and fear. The impossible ache of things that Hobi cannot fix alone. But there are others here to reassure him. Across the nest, Jin lies on his side. Watchful and careful.

You arch, twisting half onto your back and thinks he might come undone just at the sight of the mess on your stomach. You blink lazily up at him, utterly boneless- utterly at the mercy of the pack alpha’s touch.

Hobi watches as Namjoon holds your ruined hole open with two of his thumbs. Namjoon’s voice is on the shell of his ear, hot breath tickling his skin. “See how she’s open already, don’t you want to feel how warm and hot she is inside?”

Namjoon shuffles forward until his cock is poking at Hobi's behind, flush between his back and Namjoon’s front. A reminder against his spine. Namjoon’s hands go south, and all Hobi has to do is let Namjoon push, let the pack alpha guide his cock inside you below them, a more than willing omega.

“Oh!”

You let out a little shocked sound, cute, halfway between a word and a chirp as Hobi pushes in, through Namjoon’s spend, through the heat of your body, fucked open not quite loose but-

You are not as tight as you could be especially immediately after taking Namjoon’s cock and knot- at least double in with to Hobi’s (Hobi doesn’t feel that insecure about it. Namjoon could make a porn star feel inadequate) and he’d never guess that you found him unsatisfying from the way you gasp, scent going syrupy pleasure sweet. It's so good it makes Hobi's hands shake.

But there is a deeper warmth and wetness. Hoseok is the last alpha to breed you, going after even Yoongi, and the others. The others have filled you up so well. Hoseok can feel it. You're soaked from the inside out. The mess that spills is only half of it.

Hobi doesn’t think about his submission in concrete terms. At least not the way that you and Jungkook do.

But he’s the last to knot you, you’re sloppy and wet and warm around him. He has their cum frothy and foamy on his dick right now, making the slide of his cock so slippery he pops out on occasion- only to be guided back in by Namjoon’s hands. It makes humiliation light- hot and delicious- a phantom heat- down his spine.

Namjoon holds Hobi's hips and guides him into a sloppy grind, mouth running wild, face drawn in a half snarl. “Gonna give her all of it aren’t you alpha? Gonna knot her little hole and breed her with all of us, alpha knows you can, can you be good and pop a knot for me? Can you be a good puppy for the pack alpha?”

Namjoon digs his teeth into the nape of Hobi's neck, and the hot clench of your cunt, looking up at them, almost makes Hobi lose his shit.

But then you reach for his hand, tangling your hand with Hobi's. Blinking away tears in your eyes, cheek lying agianst the nest, staring up at Hobi with that same look of pure adoration. The same way you looked at Namjoon.

"love you."

You close your eyes, blinking slow, sighing. Hoseok's pace stutters. Namjoon throbs against his backside. Across the nest, Yoongi says something to Jin, and Jin smiles. Tae giggles. Jungkook cum's loudly. hoseok doesn't realize he's closed his eyes until he opens them. blinking slow like you.

“Oh pup, does Hobi-alpha feel good?”

“So good alpha, can feel him in my tummy, can feel him next to you. Love Hobi alpha- love him lots and lots, like being close to him. like this cuz-cuz-” you struggle, words are so hard in omegaspace.

"Because you're as close to him as you can get?"

"Yeah. Smell like him too." You purr, eyelashes fluttering. Hoseok's breath hitches.

Namjoon lets go of Hobi's hips and Hoseok is so far down that he stops moving. Namjoon lands a slap on Hoseok's behind a punishment for stopping.

“I’m not really convinced Hobi wants to fuck you pup-” Namjoon says with false sincerity, the same tone he uses when he's teasing Yoongi.

“No, I do! I promise I do!” Hoseok hardly recognizes the panic in his own voice. The desperation that only comes with an approaching orgasm. He grabs your hips, pulling you back onto him, showing Namjoon.

“Huh really? Aren’t you gonna show it? Can you fuck her harder for me pup?” Hobi does, the pace so quick that it makes sweat bleed down his back. and the slap of skin on skin becomes a beat, becomes a melody.

Now this is fucking. Not the slow but thorough taking apart that Yoongi and Tae lavished you with. This is not how Namjoon fucks; gentle because he needs to be or else risk hurting you. No- this is slaps of Hobi's lap against your hips, turning your skin red like you’ve been spanked, his cock sliding in and out, curving up to kiss that spot inside of you. Quick and rabbit fast.

Hoseok is sure he’s doing a good job until Namjoon stops him with a hand on his collar. The twinkle in his eyes makes Hoseok feel so small he averts his gaze.

“Hang on, I want to see something.” Hoseok does pause, simply a puppet for Namjoon to push around when he wants to. hoseok is obedient, a good puppy.

Namjoon pulls Hobi away from you by his collar and Hobi pops out of you with a broken whine. Cock heavy and twitching, knot half popped at the base. But he’s a good puppy, a good puppy he swears, if the pack alpha needs to check the omega below him is alright then Hoseok will trust him.

Hoseok is kneeling there, heavy cock wet between his legs as Namjoon shuffles forward, taking Hobi's spot. One alpha taking an omega from another in the middle of the heat, in the middle of breeding- would be a challenge to any alpha’s ego.

But Hoseok just feels like he's going to cum. he's going to cum and namjoon is going to let him if he's only good. Hobi's cock just twitches. Wet with cum that isn’t his. White and translucent against where his skin goes darker and pink. Dripping a bit from the tip.

Namjoon pulls you onto him in one smooth movement. Putting his cock all the way in, you gasp, eyes going wide, lips sack. And a noise rises from Hobi's throat, not a growl but a whimper. Namjoon holds your wrists, forcing you back on his cock once, twice, grinning at Hobi all the while. Taunting him in a way that makes Hobi melt.

“Alpha alpha alpha please-” falls from your lips. A plea unanswered.

Namjoon pulls back just as quickly. Sliding out, and leaving you empty. Hobi watches as you struggle to clench. To breathe after that. Namjoon lands an open palmed slap over your hole, loud and wet. And you collapse back onto your hands and knees. So, limp you can’t hold yourself up. Sobbing dry.

“That’s what I thought pup.”

A small film of slick and cum comes away on his hand. Namjoon wipes it over Hobi's hip, hot as a brand before he guides him back between your legs. Hooking his chin over Hobi's shoulder to watch. Hobi doesn’t even fight- just lets Namjoon put it in and then guides his hips into a sloppy grind. Faster and faster.

He’d never admit it, and it’s embarrassing. But for a second after taking Namjoon’s cock- all Hobi can feel is wet.

He lets out a broken sound when you finally close around him- somehow tighter after being stretched around Namjoon’s gargantuan member. Your orgasm is fast approaching. Barreling towards you. Will the rest of your heat go this way? Traded from alpha to alpha, from knot to knot?

“Pups nice and open for you this way, you won’t have a problem knotting, even if you pop one outside, I can just push it in.”

Namjoon’s not wrong, Hoseok’s knot is adequate- he knows this. But- but-

Namjoon’s cock, it’s almost the same diameter as his knot normally. You’re so open, so gappy, that Hoseok could probably knot you and keep fucking you. Jimin will definitely do that just to make you squirt and get more of your slick. It’s fun. The other omega’s don’t squirt, at least not the way you do.

Your tongue lolls out a little. Lost to the heat fever, cute enough that Namjoon presses a thumb to your lips and wipes the saliva down your midline. Pausing to tease at your sensitive nipples, Namjoon doesn't really ever give them too much attention- Hobi has noticed.

Maybe because there's just so much more to pay attention to.

Like the fullness of your stomach, the cute pout to your cheeks while you gasp, the hazy way you look at them both above you, fucking you up, breaking you a little. That has the power to make them come undone with a single look. You lie your cheek on your hands and stare up at them. Gasping every time Hobi pushes flush.

"Want puppy to make me messy, want knot, please? Please alpha? can i have it? i've been so so good."

"of course you can pup. hobi..." namjoon trails off, and hoseok's orgasam is right there, right on the edge, waiting for namjoon's say so.

He doesn't give it. doesn't give Hoseok permission. hoseok's body can't with out it, tense down to his core, like a live wire prepared to snap with electricity.

Your clit twitches and your pussy clenches wet as Namjoon rolls your nipples between his thumbs and forefinger. Hobi whines, high and lupine, alarmed. If you keep doing that, then his knot is going to pop, and he wants- he should at least make you cum once. The others will never let him live it down if he doesn’t.

“How much do you want it pup? Can you show him?”

You whine, confused with the question, confused further when Namjoon’s hand snakes between the two of you, holding Hobi's cock as it goes in and out, prodding gently at the sensitive skin around the base. Exploring and checking, Hoseok honestly almost pops a knot right there, out of your hole, and lets all his cum go to waste. “Yes- yes I’ll-”

Namjoon's breath is hot on Hobi's ear, his lips brushing the Shell of it. "puppy, knot."

Namjoon strokes down Hobi’s peritoneum as he knots and Hobi honestly to god thinks he might see white for a moment, something pure instinct gripping him as he ruts forward, breeding without care for your comfort.

He pops his knot. Fucks it in once, then out, then back in. Relishing in the wetness as you squirt, turning the inside of your thighs glossy and speckled with droplets. Hobi doesn’t mind, he knows that one of the others- probably Jimin because he’s a little obsessed with your slick honestly- will clean both of you up later.

Namjoon takes Hobi’s hands and presses both of them to your stomach, small, a little soft normally but now…looks a bit bloated. “Do you feel that alpha?” Namjoon says, husky in his ear, and yes. Hobi can, he can feel the warmth there. Especially once you start to purr, eyelashes fluttering, obviously fucked to sleep. Something tugs in his gut and Hobi whines. High-pitched and lupine.

"Good puppy, so good for alpha. Good boy."

Hobi feels a bit like he might laugh, a bit like he might cry. (The cutest puppies are always a little extra fragile after knotting and Hobi is no different), Namjoon presses him closer pulling at the collar. Presses him down until you’re all cuddling. You on the bottom, Hobi in the middle, and Namjoon on top.

It's easy to help you move your leg and turn the full way so that you can burrow into Hoseok's front. Hiding from the world in the safety of your alpha. Your packmate.

Hoseok doesn’t even register that there’s wetness on his back, that Namjoon maybe rutted against the cleft of his ass, and came a little too. That the pack alpha got worked up enough by his pups being good and all the heat hormones on the air. That revelation can wait for a bit later when Hobi's not feeling quite so fragile.

In the meantime, Namjoon has pups to take care of.

“How did Hobi do omega? Do you feel nice and bred and full?”

You babble, eyes already half closed. Nodding cutely. “Best alpha, love Hobi alpha so so much, nice knot- best knot.”

Namjoon’s husky laugh conceals the sound of Hobi’s sniffles, and he’s intensely glad that he smells as happy as he feels- that you don’t open your eyes and see. He’s still breathing too heavily. Brain awash with happy hormones.

Hobi just successfully helped you through a wave of your heat, he didn’t fuck up, he didn’t do anything wrong-

Namjoon made sure of it, Namjoon made sure that Hobi had everything he needed, and you did too. He really is a good pack alpha. There is a lump in Hobi's throat that just won’t go away, even through his orgasm. even as he releases a bit more inside of you. Hobi's knotting is always a bit drawn out. You clench, milking him of as much spend as he has.

“Better than mine?” Namjoon teases.

You shake your head petulantly, you’re scent marking him everywhere, running your wrists clumsily over his sides, his shoulders, up his back. “Don’t wanna choose, want all.”

Jin huffs from across the nest. "We all know Tae has the best knot."

Jimin pops up from between Jungkook's thighs. Slick on his pudgy cheeks. "Hey! What about me!"

Namjoon strokes down Hobi's cheek, wiping away his tears. “We’ll give you all of them pup. Don’t you worry your pretty little fuzzy head at all.” Hobi has a feeling that the last sentence is more for him than for you. But you settle and huff. Really. You are close to sleep. Hobi is the one that finally made your fever quiet. Finally made it go down.

You smack your lips, “feel fuzzy, feel soft and good and full.” Hoseok is trying to reply, trying too. But behind him, Namjoon’s voice goes soft.

“And you want Hobi in your nest, right?”

Horror and terror fall on Hobi like a wave, almost making him drop, a swooping in his stomach so complete at the idea that you might- that you could-

Hoseok tries to pull back, pull away-

But your body goes firm, wrapping around him so quickly and pulling him to you with such a force. Offended by the very notion of what Namjoon insinuates. All but hissing at the pack alpha. One second Hoseok isn’t being hugged, and the next, your whole body- pussy and all, is clamping tight around him, holding around his neck.

“No! My alpha! Can't take him! Has to stay in the nest forever and ever and-"

“Shush I’m just teasing, no one’s going to take your Hobi from you.” Namjoon grins, but a look over his shoulder tells Hoseok that Namjoon wasn’t teasing, not at all.

Namjoon knows exactly how to settle the pack, exactly what they need and when. Hobi's body is completely relaxed now, completely at ease. No vague fear or anxiety in him. he'll have those words replaying in his head later, he knows he will.

My Alpha.

you'd snapped at the pack alpha for him, and you're still clutching him close, like hoseok is as vital to you as air. You want him. You want him in your nest. You want his scent. You want all of him, not just the parts that are convenient to use.

You settle, rubbing your head against Hobi's throat, like you want as much of his scent on you as possible. Still a little put out by it. A little angry at Namjoon. But your anger is just like Noodle's; more fluff than threat.

You do it again and again, scent marking Hobi until your breathing evens off. And you fall asleep like that, sandwiched under Hobi and Namjoon’s bodies. Hoseok between the two of you.

Hobi is a little too far gone looking down at you, a tear or two slipping out of his wet eyes. Namjoon guides him, hand in his hair. Pressing his nose into your scent gland and pinching at his scruff until Hobi's legs turn to jelly.

Hoseok sets his ear against your heart to hear it’s melody. the thump thump thump, and closes his eyes.

~-~

When you wake, the world is hazy.

Sensations bleed into each other neither real nor fake, the gauzy feeling of fresh flower petals, the sweetness of ice cream on your tongue, the dewy softness of a peach- your lover's skin plush beneath your teeth.

Each moment becomes another, each orgasm blending with the next until you’re not sure what day it is, whose fucking you, or who around you is asleep or awake. There's this pressure between your legs, a pressure that brings with it tingling pleasure and wetness.

There is hair on the inside of your thighs—no, not hair but someone's head. You blink awake among the sounds of sighs, slaps, and moans, making a soft noise in the back of your throat.

"Sorry pup, you started grinding against my thigh in your sleep."

You smack your lips together. Your body feels so good, so yummy. Yoongi pulls himself up from between your thighs, hands touching over your legs your stomach your everywhere. His chest is ruddy and sweaty, in just his boxers.

Everything brings a bone-deep pleasure, everything makes you feel soft and sleepy. The hungry roam of Yoongi's hands, possessive. The way he nuzzles into your throat, a little harder a little more aggressive than he usually would. Panting open-mouthed to breathe in your scent.

You're in heat. You can be forgiven for not noticing.

His eyes are dark pools when you look up at him. Pupils dilated. "I did?" Yoongi ducks low to kiss you, mouth salty and sweet, you sigh, still sleepy. Settling back into the nest. Yoongi's rubs over your side, needy, possessive. It's like his hands have a mind of their own.

"Mhmm, turned my pjs into a fucking state."

"Oh" you sigh, sort of out of it, already parting your legs, routine, all instinct. "Sorry."

Something gnaws at the back of your head, there is a glint in Yoongi's eyes that usually isn't there when he touches you. His heartbeat is rabbit-fast.

Huh.

Your lips smack together and you grind back against the hardness between his legs, the front of his boxers are soaked, and the fabric feels nice against your entrance. One of the others can probably deal with whatever that is. You have more important things to do. You are too small to handle whatever it is.

Yoongi gets his cock out, and tells you that you can close your eyes again if you want to. You can't really tell if he's fucking you awake or fucking you back to sleep but you do like it. Beneath you, Hobi slumbers. A warm body. You're still guarding him.

There are moments of lucidity, moments of clarity brought on by pain or pleasure. But the moments between the lucidity bleed into each other.

Beside you, Jin rides Tae’s cock with ruthless efficiency. Never one to be forced to present. His thighs move as he rides, straining. Jin is so big and strong looking and Tae lies below him still in her pretty pretty dress, torn at the waist from where Jungkook got a little too rough hours ago. You'll be upset about that later because you like that dress on her.

Tae has no right to look so good in her dresses with her cock out. Especially when she looks up at Jin, hand behind her head, settling back to let the pack omega take what he needs. Her fingers twine through the end of a leash almost lazily wrapping it over her knuckles and letting it go loose again. Jimin's collar at the other end of it, the other alpha diligently fucking Jungkook in a presenting position. The slap of skin on skin is an echoic melody.

You are close besides, close enough that if you really reached, you might be able to hold Tae's hand, or maybe Jinnie’s. You'd really really really like to hold Jin's hand.

But holding Hobi's is more important at the moment. Hobi slumbers beneath you. Yoongi must have been cuddling both of you. Must have been guarding both of you through sleep to make sure nothing disturbed you. Maybe you started grinding into Hobi first and Yoongi detangled you. You're glad he stopped you, Hobi's too sensitive, too puppy to do that kind of thing to without asking. Even inside of a heat.

Yoongi is a good mate, above you, he breathes heavily, chest straining.

His hair is sweaty and shaggy in his face, swaying as he works his cock into you so good you can hardly speak. Can hardly form a coherent thought.

But he pauses when he sees your tears at your waterline. He doesn't need to ask you what's wrong, you just tell him.

“I wish I was an octopus.”

“To hold everyone's hands?”

“Yes.” you sniffle, and Yoongi’s eyes furrow.

“Are you honestly crying because you can’t hold all of our hands right now? While I'm inside you?”

“No” you lie, pouting at being found out. Yoongi just takes both of your hands in his, locking your fingers together, and keeps fucking you. Harder this time, like he has something to prove. Something to distract you from.

Gone is the slow and gentle. Yoongi fucks forward into you like he needs you. Quick and efficient.

On the other side, Jimin is taking Jungkook apart under Namjoon’s watchful eye, fucking him hard and fast even though his knot is already half popped. The pack alpha has his thighs splayed, and Jungkook is kissing up and down his cock. He tries to take it in but even if he were to unhinge his jaw, it still would be too tight of a fit.

He sates his need to suck by licking up and down. Lapping at Namjoon's knot, the furrow of his head, it's veiny girth. All of it explored and kissed. Jungkook's eyebrows drawn together, looking angry. Ignoring Namjoon's chides of "gentle omega, gentle." (He'll probably get a hole spanking if he's not careful, but maybe that's what Jungkook really wants.)

Hobi sleeps below you, his breath even and measured. Your face still resting on his chest. He's resting soundly even though the whole room is full of the sound of moans and pleasure, skin slapping against skin. You try and untangle one of your hands from yoongi's to stifle your own sound but.

But Yoongi doesn't let you. you squeak, loud, and Yoongi grins, fucking faster, competitive with it. Across the nest Jimin fucks Jungkook faster. Tae looks over at the two of you and grins. An alpha expression, bearing his teeth at the show of Yoongi's dominance.

Hoseok's upper lift lips in a soundless snarl. still completely asleep. He's the closest one to you and Yoongi. The first one who notices. close enough to scent it on the air.

The pheromones from the others are a haze on the hair, hot on the back of Yoongi’s tongue joining the taste of your slick. He’d cleaned you up after Hobi knotted you, the two of you cuddled and close and giggly, both pupish underneath the gently watchful eye of Namjoon, dolling out praise and sips of water and corners of chocolate in equal measure. you'd fallen asleep mostly, mostly accept for the way you'd ground back against him after Hobi had slipped out, soft. and you- still insatiable.

Now, it’s Yoongi’s turn again, and thank god for that. There has been this almost ticking in the back of his mind, not a fever spiking, not quite like that, more drops into a bucket of water that now threaten to overflow. Yoongi's body trembles. And he can't stop himself from sneaking a hand down between your legs.

He's already pretty worked up from eating you out while you slept, and you're close too. Even if he cums he can just play with your clit like this until he's ready and hard again. It's a good thing that Yoongi doesn't have a knot, that he doesn't have to wait really to fuck you as the others do. He can just keep going, can just ignore the discomfort of overstimulation to avoid a deeper discomfort.

Yoongi hates disappointing his mate.

So he works his cock back and forth, nudging little sleepy moans from your throat. Your body is boneless below him just how he likes it.

Your slick is so good, it calls to him like alcohol must call to a drunk, like cigarettes to a smoker. Neither drug nor addiction can describe it perfectly. Yoongi presses his thumb against your clit, and you gush around his cock. clawing at his hand blindly. Sensitive, so sensitive after being fucked for so long. But better for him, more. Yoongi wants more. Wants as much as you can give him.

more more more, more and more more. That's what Yoongi needs.

He guides it up to his tongue sweeter than honey, than ambrosia. It makes his mind quiet, and his instincts tug deeper and deeper until he's practically buried by them.

Yoongi’s mating mark is so sensitive he can hardly touch it without his cock jumping. Whatever it is, whatever this is he thinks it comes from there.

He holds your hands so that you’re not tempted to abuse your clit any longer. He’s so good in the way that he works his cock back and forth, just perfect, just right in the way that he knows the movements of your body, the feeling of you, hiding your face in the pillows because you're shy.

Yoongi is watching you. Yoongi is hardly even blinking.

“Oh, is my little sweetheart shy again?”

Yoongi is going to cum after this next thrust, he can feel this orgasm building, hot and bleeding down his back. Yoongi tries to thrust forward, and you let out a small squeal- a sound of pain.

Every alpha in the room jerks hard.

Even Jin and Jungkook. Everyone, eyes directed to you and Yoongi. Hobi's body all but flinches, lifting his head up. Starting even though he's only half awake.

No sooner has Yoongi registered that and started (in both equal panic and dismay) Does the pain and discomfort erupt from between his legs. Something very very hot and sensitive there, something stretching him so so tight.

“Ow ow ow ow ow what the fuck- what the actual fuck”

It feels like denial, like his approaching orgasm has disappeared replaced with a feeling like he's burning. A pressure and an ache so firm that it feels like he’s bursting from the inside out. Pleasure unfulfilled, orgasm right there but impossibly out of reach.

Yoongi's hands cover his cock, wet with your spend, but even that almost feels like too much.

It's a bit comical. How quick the pack panics.

Namjoon is up on his feet faster than anyone can blink, cock flailing a little. Even Jimin pulls out of Jungkook, as gently as he can but still apologizes, "Sorry, Koo sorry sorry-"

You're still not too sure exactly what happened only that you can feel a bit of an ache in you, not like you're torn but- Sort of how it felt when Jimin dragged his knot in and out of your cunt earlier, back when it was half popped.

Your scents shift from sweet and happy to scared and in pain. The scent of panic is all but a collar around your packmate's necks. Pulling them closer. Making them forget about the pleasure hanging hot and heavy in the air. All needs are superseded by two packmates in pain.

The worst is Yoongi, gone is the chocolate sweetness. His happy pleasure-ridden scent. Now sour with fear and pain.

Namjoon stands, jerks, and slips in the nest after stepping on a slippery waterproof blanket, he falls flat on his ass. He's up before anyone can say anything before anyone can get to Yoongi.

The pack descended, sudden shouting, raised voices, half-nude bodies up and moving when they should be resting. Tae has you, drags you close, searching between your legs for blood, thankfully finding none, when her fingers come away.

Unfortunately- pinches and accidents happen but she’s eternally glad that you haven’t- her breath comes out short- that you're not torn.

If it didn't happen with Namjoon, then why did it happen with Yoongi?

You look over at where Yoongi’s crouched, cursing dully. “Mate? Broke mate?” You mumble, upset. You cling to Tae's front, crying, big tears dripping down your cheeks. Trembling.

“It’s okay pup shh shhh.”

Yoongi swats at Namjoon still holding his cock, big hands covering all of it gingerly. Hissing through his teeth. “fucking hell Joon- just give me a goddamn second.” But Namjoon’s hand is on Yoongi’s wrist between his thigh, pulls his hand away gently.

“Let me see let me see- Yoon, I am a doctor; I promise you it’s nothing I haven't seen before- Just-"

Yoongi whimpers and pulls his hand away from the bulge at the base of his cock.

Namjoon pauses, blinking. Face to face with it. And he realizes, no, he actually has never seen this before. Namjoon’s eyebrows all but disappear into the atmosphere.

"What the fuck?"

Only some truly devastating circumstances can bring an in heat omega into lucidity. You come back to yourself. "What's wrong? what's wrong with my mate?"

The rest of the pack stare dumbly. Ringing your mate just staring. Unsure what to do.

Because Yoongi, Beta Min Yoongi- your mate- full-blooded beta-

Has just popped a knot.

~-~

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Notes:

namjoon at the very begining of bily does say that he wants to spoil the m/c, it's in his internal monolouge but now she is substantially spoiled. and he is a happy little alpha about it.

taetae is sucking so much, poor little pup is gonna lactate the second her heat is through 🥺 what a mean mommy for turning her pup milky, what do we think? do we want the change to be permanent?

namjoon: baby i am /tired, mc: you motherfucker, making me do all the work- (she's such a bratt i love her)

very vauge implied human furnature hobi? why am i kinda a little weirdly into hobi being a very very obedient sub. he's such a good boy hold the tray so well! i love the idea of him getting praised for very simple things and getting hard over it. maybe i am...not as submissive as i thought.

when hobi is fucking the m/c i struggled alot with seeing if like- i wanted it to be soft or horny. but i truly think namjoon just realized that hobi needed to be in puppy space for it and also that the m/c needed to hear that hobi wanted her after him kinda...avoiding her for the first part of her heat. namjoon is aware that the m/c does not know that hobi's place in the heats and that he's slightly less active than the rest of them because of his trauma.

yoongi *suffering the effects of slick intoxication* m/c: i am just a baby,

do you like the suprise???? was it a good cliffhanger???? did you like it????????????? 😈 i'm so evil for giving you guys yoongi knot angst last chapter and actually giving you yoongi knotting this chapter llasjdlfjaslkdjflakjf but what you gonna do spank me?

546 notes · View notes

novaursa · 1 month ago

Text

The Golden Oath (to take a chance)

- Summary: The lion falls in love with the daughter of the Mad King, which starts a domino effect that eventually collapses the realm onto itself.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Jaime Lannister

- Note: Timeline is slightly altered to fit the plot of the story better. Also, this story doesn't have a place in my schedule, as it's still being written. But, I may continue to drop a new chapter here and there unexpectedly. Thank you everybody for your support. ❤️

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: closer

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @thegirlwiththemostcake3 @joyfulyouthlover @viyannaiya @mortallyblueninja @nestvrn @wuluhwuhmaster @loafersrs @annoyinginfp-t @simpsonsam @barnes70stark @angel6776 @mrsnms @butterfl1ies @lordofthunderthr @idenyimimdenial

The morning light crept through the heavy curtains of Rhaegar’s chambers, soft and amber, painting long streaks of warmth across the cold stone floor. The embers in the hearth still smoldered from the night before, casting the faintest glow into the dim room. The air was still, quiet, save for the rhythmic breathing of two figures lying beneath the canopy of the great bed.

You stirred first, slowly surfacing from sleep, the warmth surrounding you pulling you from the depths of dreams that had been light and untangled. The fabric of the sheets was smooth against your skin, the weight of the covers familiar, but it was the presence beside you that kept you still, kept you lingering in the delicate haze of morning.

Rhaegar.

His arm was draped across your waist, heavy and unmoving, his warmth seeping through the thin silk of your nightgown. His breath was slow and steady, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was too peaceful, too unguarded, for the man who carried the burdens of prophecy and expectation. The silver of his hair spilled across the pillows, strands catching in the early light, gleaming like woven starlight.

For a moment, you simply watched him.

It was rare to see him like this—without the weight of the world pressing upon him, without the distant look in his indigo eyes that so often betrayed how lost he was in his own mind. Here, in the quiet of the morning, he looked nothing like a prince and everything like the brother you had known your whole life.

You shifted slightly, the movement stirring him. His breath hitched for just a moment before he sighed softly, his hold on you tightening instinctively before his eyes fluttered open.

He blinked once, adjusting to the light, his gaze still unfocused from sleep. Then his eyes found yours.

For a long moment, he did not speak. He simply looked at you, his expression unreadable, as if he were still caught between dreams and waking. Then, slowly, the corner of his lips curled into something soft, something so rare that you almost felt the need to preserve it.

"You’re still here," he murmured, his voice rough from sleep.

You let out a small breath of laughter. "I said I would be."

His fingers traced absent patterns against your back, slow and unhurried. "I almost thought you were only a dream."

You tilted your head slightly, watching him. "Did you dream?"

His gaze drifted, thoughtful for a moment before returning to you. "I did," he admitted. "But they were pleasant."

You studied him, searching for signs of exhaustion in his face, but the deep shadows that usually lurked beneath his eyes were fainter, his features more at ease.

"What did you dream of?" you asked softly.

His fingers stilled against your back for a moment, then resumed their slow, absent tracing. "Of a place far from here," he murmured. "Somewhere quiet. Somewhere without kings or lords, without prophecy or war." His voice dipped lower. "Somewhere it is only us."

A slow warmth spread through your chest at his words, but you said nothing. You only reached up, brushing a stray silver strand from his face.

His eyes flickered at the touch, something unreadable passing through them before he exhaled, turning onto his side to face you fully. His fingers, which had been resting so lightly against your back, traced upward, brushing against your shoulder before curling around the edge of your jaw.

"You should stay," he said, quieter now, as if the words were a secret meant only for you. "Not just tonight. Always."

You let out a soft breath, your fingers resting lightly against his wrist. "You know I will always be where you need me."

His gaze held yours, searching, and for a long moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, his touch grounding.

"I do not deserve you," he murmured.

You closed your eyes, exhaling softly. "You do."

His fingers tightened slightly against your jaw, his other hand sliding up to rest against your waist. "Then tell me," he whispered, "that you will not leave me."

You opened your eyes, meeting his. "Never."

The morning stretched between you, golden and unhurried, the world beyond the chamber doors momentarily forgotten. Here, in this quiet place, Rhaegar was not a prince, not a warrior burdened by prophecy. He was only your brother, holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

And you would let him hold on for as long as he needed.

The sun had barely begun its climb over the towers of the Red Keep, its light spilling across the training courtyard where the morning drills were already underway. The sound of clashing steel rang through the air, sharp and rhythmic, accompanied by the occasional grunt of exertion or the dull thud of a body hitting the dirt. The scent of sweat and oiled leather mingled with the cooler morning breeze, a contrast that Jaime had long since grown accustomed to.

He moved with practiced ease, his sword a natural extension of his arm as he pivoted, parried, and struck. His opponent—a knight of the Kingsguard, Ser Gwayne Gaunt—was a seasoned fighter, his strikes swift and calculated, but Jaime was faster. His youth granted him an edge, his movements sharp and deliberate, honed from years of training under some of the finest warriors in the realm.

Their blades met in a rapid exchange, the ringing steel echoing against the stone walls. Ser Gwayne was strong, but Jaime was relentless, pressing forward with a series of calculated strikes that forced the older knight onto the defensive. Then, with a well-timed feint and a swift pivot, Jaime knocked the blade from Ser Gwayne’s grip, sending it clattering across the courtyard.

A brief silence followed, broken only by the heavy breathing of the gathered knights.

"Seven hells, boy," Ser Gwayne muttered, shaking his head as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Your father wasn’t lying when he said you were quick."

Jaime smirked, lowering his sword. "My father says many things. Some of them even happen to be true."

The knights around them chuckled, and Jaime stepped back, running a hand through his damp golden hair. He had always felt at ease here, amidst steel and sweat, surrounded by men who spoke with their swords rather than empty words. This was where he belonged. Or at least, he had always thought so.

Another knight, Ser Harlan Grandison, leaned against the pommel of his sword, watching him with an appraising eye. "You’ve come a long way since your days as a squire," he noted.

Jaime exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Squires learn quickly when their knights make them do all the hard work."

That earned another round of laughter from the men.

Ser Oswell Whent, who had been watching from the sidelines, smirked. "Tell us, Lannister, which poor bastard had the honor of training you?"

Jaime wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, his smirk widening. "Ser Sumner Crakehall," he replied. "And if you think I’m quick now, you should’ve seen how fast I had to move to avoid his boot when I didn’t clean his armor to his liking."

The men chuckled again, some nodding knowingly.

"Crakehall," Ser Gwayne mused. "A good knight. Hard man, but fair. He must have seen something in you early on."

Jaime shrugged. "He saw someone who needed discipline. And he made sure I got plenty of it."

Ser Harlan tilted his head. "And now here you are, training among knights, already better than half of them. Soon enough, you’ll have your white cloak, just as you always wanted."

Jaime hesitated.

Just as he always wanted.

That was the plan. That had always been the plan. From the moment he could hold a sword, he had envisioned himself among the Kingsguard—a knight of legend, a warrior bound by honor and duty. It had been his dream, his purpose.

But now…

Now, he felt something uncertain creeping in again.

A white cloak was a lifetime of service, of celibacy, of loyalty to a king he could not choose. A white cloak meant giving up everything else.

And when he closed his eyes, he did not see the grandeur of the Kingsguard.

He saw her.

He saw the way her indigo eyes glowed beneath the lantern light in the gardens, the way her voice had softened when she spoke his name. He saw her smile, the quiet understanding in her gaze, the way she had looked at him as if she truly saw him.

A Kingsguard could not have that. A Kingsguard could not have her.

And the thought unsettled him more than he was willing to admit.

"You’re quiet, Lannister," Ser Oswell noted, studying him curiously. "Is that not what you still want?"

Jaime forced a smirk, shifting his stance. "Of course," he said smoothly, though the words felt strange on his tongue. "What man wouldn’t want to be remembered among the greatest knights in history?"

Ser Harlan chuckled. "That’s the right attitude. A man should always aim for greatness."

Jaime nodded, but his grip on his sword tightened.

He had spent years believing this was greatness. That nothing could be better than knighthood, than honor, than glory.

But now—now, as days pass by, he was not so sure.

And the doubt burned in his chest like a brand.

Jaime moved through the halls of the Red Keep with an ease born of familiarity, his cloak trailing behind him as he passed through the winding corridors lined with torches flickering in their iron sconces. The midday air had grown heavy with heat, the scent of warmed stone and incense lingering from the septs below. Servants scurried past, their heads bowed, hands full of scrolls and goblets, their presence barely acknowledged by the young Lannister as he made his way toward the chambers where he expected to find his sister.

He had not seen Cersei since the morning meal, but he knew her well enough to predict where she would be. She was no fool; she understood their father’s wishes as keenly as he did, and she had always been far more eager to play her part. If she was not in their apartments, there was only one place she would have gone.

The princess’s solar.

Jaime exhaled, a sharp breath through his nose. Cersei was relentless when she wanted something, and right now, she wanted to be at the princess’s side. She had spent years imagining herself as the future queen, and even in the face of uncertainty from Aerys, she would do everything in her power to ensure Rhaegar saw her as the only logical choice.

When he arrived at the entrance to the solar, he did not even need to step inside to confirm his suspicions. Laughter and quiet voices drifted through the open doors, and amid the soft lilting tones of the princess’s ladies-in-waiting, he recognized Cersei’s voice—measured, honeyed, full of carefully chosen words designed to weave her seamlessly into their circle.

Jaime smirked to himself. She was tireless.

But it meant she was occupied—and that left him without a purpose for the moment.

He turned, stepping away from the doorway, but he had barely gone a few paces before a soft voice—smooth as silk and just as unsettling—cut through the warm air.

"A fine afternoon, young man. You look as if you were seeking something… or someone."

Jaime stopped in his tracks, rolling his shoulders slightly before glancing toward the source of the voice.

Varys.

The man stood in the shadow of a marble column, his hands tucked neatly into the wide sleeves of his lavender robes, his pale, hairless face betraying nothing but quiet amusement. His presence in the Red Keep was still new—a recent addition to the king’s court, a foreign shadow that had settled itself neatly into the folds of power.

Jaime had never liked him.

Not for any particular reason. Perhaps it was the way the man seemed to know things he had no right knowing, or the way he spoke without ever truly revealing anything of himself. There was something slippery about him, something untouchable, and Jaime had never had patience for men who did not speak plainly.

"Lord Varys," Jaime greeted, his voice smooth but guarded. "I hadn’t noticed you there."

Varys’s lips curved slightly, though his expression remained unreadable. "Few do. Until they must."

Jaime let out a breath of amusement, tilting his head slightly. "And what must I notice you for today?"

Varys regarded him for a moment before stepping forward, his movements as fluid as ever, his gaze flickering toward the solar where Cersei’s laughter still rang lightly through the air.

"Your sister is quite… persistent," he observed. "She is wasting no time in placing herself where she wishes to be."

Jaime smirked, glancing back toward the door. "Cersei does nothing by halves."

Varys chuckled softly. "Indeed. And neither does her father."

Jaime turned his gaze back toward him, his smirk fading slightly. He did not ask what the spymaster meant by that, because he already knew.

Varys tilted his head, his voice dropping into something quieter. "No one at court is blind as to why Lord Tywin brought his golden cubs to King’s Landing." His expression was mild, his words carefully spoken, but the meaning beneath them was clear. "There are… expectations."

Jaime exhaled slowly through his nose. "There are always expectations."

Varys’s lips twitched into something like amusement. "And yet, some expectations are more pressing than others." He studied Jaime for a moment before adding, "And some ambitions… more personal than political."

Jaime’s eyes narrowed slightly. He did not like the way Varys watched him, did not like the way his voice curved around his words as if he already knew everything Jaime had yet to admit to himself.

He straightened his shoulders. "I would think you have more pressing matters to concern yourself with than where I spend my time."

Varys hummed, tapping his fingers lightly against his robes. "You would think so. And yet, the affairs of princes and princesses tend to shape the realm far more than we care to admit."

Jaime exhaled, shaking his head slightly. He would not play games with this man, not now.

"Do you know where she is?" he asked, his tone shifting, more direct.

Varys did not even feign confusion. "The princess?" He smiled slightly. "She is preparing to ride out with her brother. They leave before midday."

Jaime frowned slightly. "Ride where?"

"To the ruins of Summerhall," Varys said, his voice light, as if it were merely idle conversation. "A place of memory. Of loss."

Jaime tilted his head slightly. He had heard the stories, of course—of many tragedies there and those who perished in its flames, of how Summerhall had been left as little more than a burned ruin, standing as a monument to what had been lost.

And Rhaegar, he knew, had always been drawn to it.

Jaime considered this, rolling the information over in his mind before turning back to Varys. "And you think this is of interest to me?"

Varys smiled again, but there was something knowing in it. "I think many things are of interest to you. Some of them, you have yet to even admit to yourself."

Jaime exhaled sharply through his nose. He would not entertain this man’s games. Not now.

He gave a curt nod, stepping past the spymaster. "Enjoy your riddles, Lord Varys," he said over his shoulder. "I’ll leave you to them."

Varys chuckled softly, his voice floating after him like a whisper. "Oh, I always do."

Jaime did not look back.

The stables of the Red Keep were alive with movement as the small procession prepared for departure. The scent of hay and saddle leather lingered in the morning air, mingling with the sharper tang of oiled steel and the faintest trace of damp earth. Horses shifted impatiently, their breath curling in the crisp air, their hooves clattering softly against the stone floor as stable hands moved between them, adjusting straps and tightening girths. The sunlight streamed in through the arched entrance, catching on the polished armor of the knights who stood ready, waiting for their prince and princess to mount.

Jaime approached at an easy pace, though his presence did not go unnoticed. Ser Barristan stood near the entrance, adjusting the leather straps of his gauntlets, his stern gaze flickering toward Jaime the moment he stepped inside. Further ahead, Ser Arthur Dayne was speaking quietly with one of the attendants, his sword—Dawn—strapped securely to his back, a silent promise of its legend. Neither knight spoke to him as he passed, but their presence alone was enough to remind Jaime that this was no simple ride.

And then he saw her.

You stood beside your dapple grey mare, Moonveil, the delicate silver braiding in your hair glinting in the light as you adjusted the reins. The violet riding cloak draped over your shoulders made you look more like something from a painting than a woman of flesh and blood, an image woven from the very fabric of the old songs. There was a grace to the way you moved, each gesture smooth and unhurried, as if you belonged in this moment—as if this had all happened before, and you already knew how it would end.

Beside you, Rhaegar stood with his hands resting lightly against Darkfyre’s neck, his silver hair catching in the golden light, the black destrier shifting slightly beneath his touch. He did not speak, did not move—only watched as Jaime approached, his gaze unreadable.

It was you who broke the silence.

"Jaime," you greeted, tilting your head slightly, your expression calm but curious. "What brings you here?"

Jaime exhaled, rolling his shoulders back as he slowed his steps. "I heard about your journey," he said, his tone easy, though the weight of Rhaegar’s gaze did not go unnoticed. "And I wanted to ask if I might join you."

There was a beat of silence.

Rhaegar’s fingers twitched against his horse’s mane, but his face remained still, unreadable as stone. Then, slowly, he turned his head slightly—toward you.

A silent exchange passed between you. Nothing was said, but the weight of Rhaegar’s glance was unmistakable, a look that lingered, expectant. It was not his decision, and yet, there was an undeniable expectation in his silence, a question unspoken but heard all the same.

Jaime watched as your lips parted slightly, then pressed together, your fingers tightening around Moonveil’s reins before you turned back to him.

"You wish to ride with us?" you asked, your voice carefully measured.

Jaime nodded, shifting his weight slightly. "If you will have me."

Another pause.

Then, a soft breath.

"You may," you said simply.

Jaime did not look at Rhaegar, though he could feel the prince’s gaze like a blade at his back. Instead, he focused only on you, on the way your expression remained poised, unreadable, yet not unkind.

You gave a slight nod, turning back toward your mare as the stable hands finished securing the last of the riding gear. "We leave within the hour," you murmured.

Jaime exhaled slowly.

Then he smiled.

"I’ll be ready."

Jaime moved swiftly through the corridors of the Red Keep, his boots echoing against the polished stone as he made his way toward his chambers. He had little time—less than an hour—to ready himself for the journey to Summerhall, and though he was more than capable of preparing quickly, his mind raced with thoughts far removed from his saddlebags and armor.

He had not expected her to agree so easily.

He had braced himself for hesitation, for a glance toward Rhaegar seeking approval, for some delicate refusal that would force him to retreat with little more than a polite excuse. But there had been none of that. No reluctance, no delay—only a quiet, measured acceptance, as if she had already decided before he had asked.

It made something tighten in his chest, something he was still trying to make sense of.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides as he moved, his pace quickening. He had wasted too much time already, caught between his own thoughts, between the weight of a future that had never felt uncertain until now.

And in his haste—he almost did not see them.

He rounded a corner, moving too fast to stop in time, and came within an inch of crashing directly into his father.

Jaime skidded to a halt, his breath sharp as he pulled back just in time, his heart hammering in his chest.

Tywin Lannister did not so much as flinch.

His father stood tall, his golden cloak draped over his broad shoulders, his expression severe as ever, though the stern glint in his green eyes spoke of irritation more than surprise.

Beside him stood King Aerys.

Jaime’s breath caught, his entire body going rigid as he processed the scene before him.

The king was dressed in deep crimson robes, his silver hair slightly unkempt, curling against the high collar of his garment. His violet eyes flickered toward Jaime, stern and assessing, but they were not yet clouded with the wild unpredictability that had begun creeping into his presence in recent years. There was lucidity here—fragile, but present.

Around them stood several of Aerys’s closest advisors—Grand Maester Pycelle, his hands clasped before him; Lord Chelsted, his face lined with quiet tension; and, standing just a step back, Varys, his ever-present, unreadable expression as smooth as the silken folds of his robes.

For a heartbeat, the air felt thick with expectation.

Then Tywin exhaled, his voice steady.

"Jaime."

Jaime straightened his spine instinctively, his jaw tightening. "Father."

Tywin’s gaze flickered over him once, noting his disheveled state, the faint sheen of sweat at his brow from moving so quickly. Then, slowly, his expression darkened.

"You are in a hurry," Tywin observed, his tone neutral but edged with something dangerous.

Jaime opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, Aerys let out a low hum, his fingers twitching against the crimson fabric of his sleeve.

"Where is the young lion rushing off to?" the king murmured, tilting his head slightly, the movement almost predatory.

Jaime chose his words carefully.

"I am preparing for a ride, Your Grace," he said, dipping his head in a slight bow.

Aerys’s lips curled, but it was not a smile. "A ride?" he echoed. "And where, pray tell, does the cub ride to?"

Jaime forced himself to remain still.

"Summerhall," he admitted.

The shift was immediate.

The very mention of that place changed something in Aerys’s face. His fingers stilled, his lips pressing together, the muscles in his jaw tightening. He did not speak right away, but his silence was heavy, pressing against the air like the moment before a storm.

Tywin’s gaze sharpened. "With whom?"

Jaime hesitated.

And in that pause—Varys spoke first.

"With the prince and princess, my lord," he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "It seems young Jaime has been invited to join them."

Jaime flicked his gaze toward the spymaster, irritation curling at the edges of his mind. Of course Varys already knew. The man knew everything, and worse—he enjoyed revealing what he knew at the most precise moments.

Tywin did not move. He did not shift, did not exhale, did not betray even a flicker of reaction. But Jaime could feel the weight of his scrutiny, the cold calculation ticking behind his unreadable gaze.

Aerys, however, laughed.

It was not a pleasant sound.

"With my son and daughter," Aerys murmured, shaking his head slightly. "How fortunate you are, boy, to be given such favor."

Jaime said nothing.

Aerys studied him for a moment longer, then turned his attention back to Tywin, his lips curling slightly. "Your cub is eager," he mused. "Perhaps I should have him stay. The court needs good men, does it not?"

Tywin’s expression did not shift. "Jaime will serve where he is most valuable, Your Grace."

Aerys smirked.

"Yes," he murmured, eyes flickering toward Jaime once more. "I suppose he will."

Jaime clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to let his hands tighten into fists.

Tywin turned back toward him, his gaze hard, unreadable.

"You should not keep them waiting," his father said smoothly. "A knight should always be punctual."

Jaime held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded stiffly. "Yes, my lord."

With another quick bow to the king, he turned sharply on his heel and strode away, forcing himself to keep his pace measured, controlled.

Even as the weight of his father’s gaze bore into his back.

Even as Aerys’s laughter echoed faintly behind him.

Even as the doubt in his chest only grew heavier.

The road to Summerhall stretched before them, winding through wide fields and low-rolling hills, the morning light filtering through the dense canopy of trees that lined the pathway. The sound of hooves against packed earth filled the air, steady and rhythmic, accompanied only by the occasional rustling of leaves stirred by the breeze. The small procession moved in a quiet formation—Rhaegar riding a few paces ahead, his silver hair gleaming under the sun as he spoke in hushed tones with Ser Arthur Dayne, while Ser Barristan rode at a measured distance behind them, his sharp gaze ever watchful. The rest of the guards flanked them, keeping a respectful distance, their presence more an assurance of protection than an intrusion upon the journey itself.

Jaime rode close to you, his cloak trailing slightly in the wind, his fingers loose around the reins of his chestnut stallion. His posture was relaxed, but his mind was anything but. He had spent the first stretch of the ride watching—watching the way Rhaegar carried himself with that effortless, almost melancholic grace, watching the way you moved with the same quiet ease, as if the saddle had always been a natural place for you.

It was different, seeing you outside the Red Keep. Away from the court, the whispers, the expectations. Here, you were something else entirely.

Jaime cleared his throat slightly, drawing your attention as he turned toward you. "Why Summerhall?" he asked, tilting his head just enough to catch your gaze. "Why now?"

You glanced toward the front of the group, where Rhaegar was still deep in conversation with Ser Arthur, before turning back to Jaime. "My brother likes to visit it," you said simply. "It brings him a sense of peace. Helps clear his mind."

Jaime arched a brow, shifting in his saddle slightly. "Peace?" He let out a quiet breath, glancing toward Rhaegar. "I would not have thought a place of such tragedy would offer much peace."

Your lips pressed together, thoughtful. "Most would think the same. But for Rhaegar, it is different." You hesitated for a moment, then continued, your voice softer now. "He was born there, you know. On the very night it burned. He says he does not remember it, but I think…" You paused, your fingers brushing against the reins absentmindedly. "I think some part of him still feels connected to it."

Jaime considered this, his gaze flickering between you and the prince ahead. "And you?" he asked. "Do you find peace there, too?"

You exhaled slowly, your gaze drifting toward the horizon. "No," you admitted. "Not the way he does. But it eases him. And that is enough for me."

Jaime studied you for a long moment, taking in the quiet certainty in your words. There was no hesitation, no doubt. You understood Rhaegar in a way few others did, and more than that—you bore his burdens as if they were your own.

"You and the prince seem close," Jaime remarked, his voice more thoughtful than questioning.

A small smile ghosted across your lips, though your gaze remained on the road ahead. "We always have been."

Jaime hummed, his fingers tightening slightly around the reins. It was true, then. The way Rhaegar had looked at you in the stables, the way his presence had hovered so closely around you in court—it was more than mere sibling fondness. It was something deeper, something unspoken but ever-present.

And it unsettled him.

You turned your head then, your gaze meeting his with quiet amusement. "I imagine you and your sister are the same," you mused.

Jaime blinked at the sudden shift, but he did not falter. "Cersei and I?"

You arched a brow. "Are you not close?"

Jaime exhaled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I suppose we are."

"You do not sound certain," you observed.

Jaime tilted his head slightly, considering. "Cersei and I have always understood each other," he admitted. "We were born together. We grew up as reflections of one another." He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward you. "But I think being close to someone does not always mean knowing them."

You regarded him for a long moment before nodding. "Perhaps," you murmured.

Jaime let out a slow breath, shaking his head slightly. "Still, I doubt my sister would ever say she carries my burdens."

Your lips quirked upward. "No, I do not think she would."

Jaime chuckled softly, but the sound faded quickly as his gaze returned to Rhaegar, watching the way the prince moved with that quiet, unreadable grace. A man made of songs and prophecy, of burdens only he seemed to understand.

And for the first time, Jaime wondered—did she ever tire of carrying them for him?

The road stretched long and winding beneath the late morning sun, the golden light slanting through the trees that bordered the path. The air smelled of warm earth, of pine and distant salt carried from the sea, and the steady rhythm of hooves against the dirt was a constant murmur beneath the conversations that ebbed and flowed among the riders.

At the front of the group, Rhaegar rode in silence for a time, his hands light on the reins of Darkfyre, his expression calm but distant. His silver hair moved with the breeze, catching in the light, though he seemed unaware of the way it fell across his shoulders. His gaze contemplative, flickered toward where you rode beside Ser Jaime Lannister.

Arthur Dayne, who had known the prince longer than most, had been watching him carefully.

They had been speaking in low voices, their words lost to the wind beyond their own hearing, but Arthur recognized the subtle shift in Rhaegar’s posture, the way his fingers had tightened slightly against the leather of the reins. To most, it would seem nothing. But Arthur knew better. He had spent years at Rhaegar’s side, had fought alongside him, had watched him bear the burdens of expectation with a quiet resolve that many mistook for detachment.

But Arthur knew when something troubled him.

"You have been quiet, my prince," Arthur murmured, his voice low enough that only Rhaegar could hear.

Rhaegar exhaled slowly, his gaze still lingering toward where Jaime and his sister rode. "Have I?"

Arthur smirked faintly. "You are rarely anything else."

Rhaegar did not smile.

Arthur followed his gaze and let out a thoughtful hum. "Ser Jaime is an impressive rider. I have seen few his age who handle a horse with such confidence."

Rhaegar made a noise in his throat that could have been amusement or irritation. "You have always admired skill in battle, Ser Arthur."

Arthur arched a brow. "It is my duty to recognize talent where I see it."

Rhaegar was silent for a moment before finally glancing toward him. "Do you admire him, then?"

Arthur studied him carefully, hearing the undercurrent beneath the words. "I respect him," he said after a pause. "He is young, but he is capable. A fine swordsman, should he continue on his path."

Rhaegar’s lips pressed together slightly. "And should he choose another path?"

Arthur tilted his head, considering. "There are many paths for a man like Jaime Lannister."

Rhaegar exhaled sharply through his nose. "Yes," he murmured. "It seems he is testing each of them."

Arthur followed his gaze once more, watching as Jaime leaned slightly toward you, murmuring something that drew a quiet laugh from your lips. It was not particularly intimate, not overly bold, but Rhaegar’s gaze lingered too long, his expression too carefully schooled into nothingness.

Arthur smirked slightly. "He seems to enjoy your sister’s company."

Rhaegar’s fingers tightened briefly around the reins before he forced them to relax. "Yes," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "I have noticed."

Arthur glanced at him sideways. "And you disapprove?"

Rhaegar was silent, his expression unreadable. Then, quietly, he said, "I do not trust Lannisters who return where they are not wanted."

Arthur chuckled softly. "You speak as if they were exiled. They are not Maelys Blackfyre and his men, my prince. Lord Tywin simply took his leave when your father no longer valued his counsel."

Rhaegar’s gaze darkened slightly. "Tywin Lannister takes nothing lightly. And he does nothing without purpose." He tilted his head slightly, watching as Jaime lifted a hand to adjust his horse’s bridle, his golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. "I have no doubt that he brought his children here with one in mind."

Arthur considered this. "Perhaps. But Jaime is still young."

Rhaegar did not look at him. "And yet, he is already learning how to place himself where he will be most seen."

Arthur was silent for a moment before nodding slowly. "You dislike him."

Rhaegar exhaled, tilting his head toward the sky for a brief moment, his expression unreadable. "I find his presence inconvenient."

Arthur smirked. "Inconvenient? That is not the word I expected."

Rhaegar’s indigo gaze flickered toward him. "Then you are not listening closely."

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. "You forget, my prince—I know you better than most."

Rhaegar exhaled through his nose. "Then you should know that I do not enjoy distractions."

Arthur lifted a brow. "And you think Ser Jaime is a distraction?"

Rhaegar was silent for a long moment, his gaze steady on the road ahead. Then, in a voice quiet and unreadable, he said, "I think he would like to be."

Arthur hummed thoughtfully, but said no more.

Because for all of Rhaegar’s careful words, all of his subtle deflections, Arthur could see the truth as clearly as if it had been laid bare before him.

The prince had never cared much for Lannisters, but this was different.

This was not about Jaime Lannister’s ambitions.

This was about you.

And Rhaegar had never been one to relinquish what he considered his.

The fire crackled in the still night air, its warm glow casting flickering shadows against the trees that surrounded their small encampment. The night was clear, the sky above stretched wide and endless, pinpricked with stars. The low murmur of conversation carried through the camp, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant howl of some unseen creature in the woods.

Jaime sat near the fire, his cloak pooled around his shoulders, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his goblet. The scent of roasting meat lingered in the air, the remnants of their evening meal still fresh, though most had already settled into the quiet routine of the night—some speaking in hushed voices, others tending to their horses, a few already bedding down in their tents.

Across from him, Rhaegar sat in perfect stillness, his expression composed, his hands resting lightly on his knees. He had spoken little since they had left King’s Landing, answering when necessary, but offering nothing more than what was required.

Jaime had expected this.

Still, it irritated him.

He had spent the better part of the day watching the way Rhaegar carried himself—the way he moved through the world as if he belonged more to the legends whispered in court than to the men who walked beside him. He was distant, always slightly removed, as if his thoughts existed in some faraway place none could reach.

Jaime was beginning to understand why people adored him.

And he was also beginning to understand why people found him so frustrating.

He shifted slightly, rolling his shoulders back as he glanced toward the prince. "You’ve been quiet," he remarked, his voice light but pointed.

Rhaegar lifted his gaze slightly, meeting Jaime’s with that same unreadable expression. "I often am."

Jaime smirked, taking a slow sip of his wine before setting the goblet aside. "I had noticed." He tilted his head slightly. "I had hoped this journey would allow us to speak more. But it seems I overestimated your interest in company."

Rhaegar studied him for a long moment before exhaling softly. "I have never been a man of many words, Ser Jaime."

Jaime let out a quiet chuckle. "That, I remember."

At this, Rhaegar’s brow arched ever so slightly, the only indication of interest he had given all evening.

Jaime leaned back slightly, glancing toward the fire. "Do you recall the first time we met?" he asked, his tone still casual, though there was something deliberate in the way he broached the subject.

Rhaegar tilted his head slightly, considering. "Vaguely," he admitted.

Jaime smirked, shaking his head. "You must remember something of it. It was the first time my mother brought Cersei and me to court. We were barely more than children." He exhaled, his gaze flickering toward the prince. "You were playing the harp."

Rhaegar’s fingers twitched slightly, though his expression remained impassive.

Jaime chuckled. "My mother wanted to present Cersei to the court, but all she spoke of afterward was you." He shook his head, the memory coming back with unexpected clarity. "You didn’t even look up when we entered the hall. You kept playing. My mother told us later that you had been doing so for hours, that no one could bring themselves to interrupt you."

Rhaegar was silent for a moment, his gaze distant, as if reaching back for a memory he had long since set aside.

Jaime smirked, stretching out his legs slightly. "It was the first time I ever saw Cersei… flustered," he mused. "She had always imagined herself as the most remarkable person in any room she entered. But when she looked at you, she hated that you did not look back."

Rhaegar exhaled softly, his lips curving just slightly—not quite a smile, but something close to it.

Jaime tilted his head, watching him. "Do you remember what you played?"

Rhaegar was quiet for a long moment before he finally spoke, his voice softer now. "It was a song of Old Valyria," he murmured. "One my mother sang to me when I was young."

Jaime nodded. "It was beautiful."

Rhaegar’s gaze flickered toward him, as if assessing whether he meant it.

Jaime smirked. "And dreadfully boring for a boy of eight."

Rhaegar let out a breath that might have been amusement, though it was difficult to tell. "I imagine so."

Jaime studied him for a moment, then leaned forward slightly. "You play often, even now?"

Rhaegar nodded. "When I can."

Jaime exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "I’m beginning to think your harp speaks more than you do."

Rhaegar did not respond at first, but then, quietly, he said, "Perhaps that is why I prefer it."

Jaime chuckled, shaking his head. "You truly are a man of riddles, my prince."

Rhaegar tilted his head slightly. "And you, Ser Jaime, are a man of many questions."

Jaime smirked, his eyes glinting in the firelight. "You can hardly blame me. I’ve spent the day riding with a man everyone seems to worship, and yet, he barely speaks a word."

Rhaegar exhaled, tilting his head toward the sky. "Words are often wasted on men who do not listen."

Jaime arched a brow. "And do you think I do not listen?"

Rhaegar’s gaze flickered toward him again, assessing. "I think you listen when it serves you."

Jaime laughed, shaking his head. "Perhaps. But you must admit, I have been listening quite intently to you."

Rhaegar hummed, his expression unreadable once more. "And what have you learned?"

Jaime leaned back, his smirk widening. "That you are as frustrating as everyone says."

For the first time, Rhaegar actually smiled.

It was small, fleeting, but unmistakable.

Jaime exhaled, rolling his shoulders back. "Well, I suppose that’s something."

Rhaegar studied him for a moment longer before finally nodding. "Perhaps."

The fire flickered, its glow licking at the darkness that had settled around the encampment. The night was still, save for the occasional murmur of conversation from the guards and the quiet sounds of horses shifting in the distance. The warmth of the flames was a welcome contrast to the cool night air, and though the silence between Jaime and Rhaegar had settled into something less strained, it still carried the weight of unspoken thoughts.

Then, movement.

Jaime noticed before he even turned his head, the faint rustle of fabric, the soft pad of boots against the earth. He lifted his gaze just as you approached, your violet cloak trailing lightly behind you, your pale hair catching the firelight and gleaming like polished silk. For a moment, the rest of the camp faded—the voices, the shifting shadows, even Rhaegar’s unreadable presence beside him.

You moved with that same effortless grace, the kind that made everything around you seem slower somehow, as if the world itself adjusted to your pace. Jaime sat up straighter, his shoulders unconsciously squaring, his attention wholly on you as you reached the fire and, without hesitation, settled beside Rhaegar.

Rhaegar, who had been watching you from the moment you arrived.

Jaime’s gaze flickered between the two of you, taking in the quiet way Rhaegar shifted just slightly to accommodate you, the way his posture eased—barely noticeable, but there. The way you didn’t need to ask before taking your place beside him.

Jaime forced himself to lean back, feigning nonchalance, though the truth was he felt your presence like a blade pressing at his ribs.

"You’ve been away from the fire for some time," Rhaegar murmured, his voice low but not unkind. "I expected you to retire for the night."

You shook your head, adjusting the edge of your cloak around you. "I wasn’t ready to sleep yet." You glanced toward Jaime then, your expression unreadable. "I saw you both speaking."

Jaime smirked slightly, arching a brow. "An unexpected conversation, but not an unpleasant one."

Rhaegar tilted his head slightly, but did not respond.

You hummed, glancing toward the prince. "You spoke?" you teased lightly. "I thought you had sworn a vow of silence for this journey."

Jaime chuckled at that, watching as the corner of Rhaegar’s lips almost twitched. "I must admit, he did not make it easy," Jaime mused. "I had to remind him of things he had already forgotten."

Rhaegar exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "I do not forget," he said simply.

Jaime tilted his head. "No?"

Rhaegar met his gaze evenly. "No."

The quiet intensity in his tone made something tighten in Jaime’s chest, though he did not allow it to show.

You glanced between them, your expression thoughtful. "What memories were you discussing?"

Jaime turned to you fully now, the embers of the fire reflected in his green eyes. "The first time I came to court," he said. "When my mother brought Cersei and me to King’s Landing."

You studied him for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Ah," you mused. "Our mother spoke of it often."

Jaime lifted a brow. "Did she?"

You nodded, shifting slightly where you sat. "She thought very highly of your mother." A pause. "She thought highly of you, too."

Jaime smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Is that so?"

You gave him a pointed look, amusement flickering in your gaze. "You need not look so smug about it, Jaime. You were still a boy."

Rhaegar exhaled softly, shaking his head. "And yet, he has changed so little."

Jaime chuckled at that, shaking his head. "I should be insulted, but I’ll take it as a compliment." He turned his gaze back to you, watching the way the firelight played along your features. "And what of you?" he asked. "What do you remember of those days?"

You considered for a moment, your gaze distant. "I remember feeling watched," you admitted. "Wherever I went, there were always eyes. Even as a child, I knew I was being observed. Measured." You glanced at Jaime then, your lips curving slightly. "It seems that has not changed."

Jaime felt a sharp twinge in his chest at that.

You were right. You were always being watched. Measured. Not just by the court, not just by the nobles who whispered about you behind their goblets. By him.

He had been watching you since the day he arrived at court.

And he knew now that he was not alone in it.

Rhaegar had not spoken in some time, but Jaime did not miss the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly against his knee as if restraining the urge to reach for you.

Jaime smirked, leaning back once more, feigning ease. "Then I suppose it is only fair," he said lightly. "That I take the chance to observe as well."

You arched a brow. "Observe?"

Jaime met your gaze, his smirk deepening. "To get to know you better, of course."

Rhaegar said nothing.

But Jaime could feel his gaze.

And for the first time that evening, he welcomed it.

...

The morning air was crisp, the remnants of night’s chill still clinging to the grass beneath your feet as you stepped out of your tent. The world was bathed in the soft gold of dawn, the first rays of sunlight stretching long and pale across the encampment, illuminating the slow stirrings of life around you. The scent of damp earth mixed with the last traces of smoke from the dying embers of last night’s fire, a faint warmth lingering in the air.

But it was not the light that had woken you.

It was the unmistakable ring of steel upon steel.

Your gaze flickered toward the far side of the camp, where a small group had gathered near the clearing, their forms silhouetted against the rising sun. The sound of blades clashing rang through the morning stillness, sharp and rhythmic, accompanied by the occasional grunt of exertion and the shuffling of boots against packed earth.

Jaime Lannister and Ser Arthur Dayne.

You exhaled slowly, your breath curling in the cool morning air as you took a step closer, the soft fabric of your cloak brushing against the damp grass. The sight before you was something to behold—two men moving in perfect, fluid precision, their swords a blur of silver as they struck and parried with the ease of warriors who had long since become one with their weapons.

Jaime moved with the sharp confidence of a young man who had never known defeat, his hair damp with sweat, his expression taut with focus. He was fast—quicker than most knights his age, his blade a constant, shifting threat as he pushed forward, testing, searching for an opening. But Arthur—Arthur was something else entirely.

The Sword of the Morning stood poised and unshaken, his movements calculated, unbothered by Jaime’s relentless assault. Dawn, his legendary greatsword, gleamed like pale fire, moving with impossible grace as he met each of Jaime’s strikes with an almost effortless deflection. Where Jaime was quick, Arthur was precise. Where Jaime struck with strength, Arthur countered with control.

It was like watching a dance, though the stakes were far greater than mere performance.

A small crowd had gathered—Ser Barristan stood with his arms crossed, watching with a faint nod of approval, while a few of the guards observed from a respectful distance, murmuring quietly amongst themselves. Even Rhaegar was present, standing with his hands loosely clasped before him, his expression unreadable as he watched the battle unfold.

You moved closer, coming to a stop near Rhaegar’s side, your gaze never leaving the fight.

Jaime feinted left before pivoting sharply, his sword swinging in a tight, controlled arc toward Arthur’s side—but Arthur anticipated the move before it even happened. He twisted, catching the strike against Dawn’s gleaming edge, the force of the impact sending a shockwave of sound through the clearing.

"Better," Arthur remarked, his voice calm even as their blades locked. "But predictable."

Jaime gritted his teeth, shifting his stance as he pressed forward. "Then I’ll have to be unpredictable."

Arthur smirked, the smallest flicker of amusement dancing behind his eyes. "You are welcome to try."

Jaime did.

He moved faster this time, abandoning the measured strikes of formal combat for something more reckless, more instinctive. He pressed Arthur hard, forcing him back a step, then another, his strikes growing more aggressive—not careless, but driven by something deeper.

Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly, his amusement fading.

Then, in one fluid motion, he pivoted, shifting his weight in such a way that Jaime’s next strike met nothing but empty air. Before Jaime could recover, Dawn came sweeping down in a sharp, clean arc, and with a single deft movement, Arthur knocked Jaime’s blade clean from his grasp, sending it clattering to the ground.

Silence.

Jaime stood there, his chest rising and falling, sweat dampening his brow, his hands empty.

Arthur stepped back, lowering Dawn with an ease that spoke of absolute control, his gaze steady but not unkind. "You fight well," he said simply. "You will fight better when you learn patience."

Jaime let out a slow, controlled breath, his jaw tight but his expression unreadable. Then, after a moment, he smirked—not the smirk of arrogance, but something quieter, more knowing.

"Then I suppose you’ll have to teach me patience, Ser Arthur," he murmured, reaching down to retrieve his fallen sword.

Arthur chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That, young lion, is something you must learn on your own."

Jaime exhaled, rolling his shoulders before turning—and that was when he saw you.

His posture straightened slightly, his smirk faltering for just a moment before he masked it, his green eyes flickering toward you with something unreadable. He did not look embarrassed, nor did he seem frustrated with his loss—but there was something new in his expression, something that had not been there before.

Rhaegar, still standing beside you, noticed it too.

But he said nothing.

You studied Jaime for a long moment, your gaze calm but searching. Then, tilting your head slightly, you offered him the faintest trace of a smile.

"You woke the entire camp," you remarked lightly. "I suppose I should thank you for sparing me from my dreams."

Jaime let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. "I didn’t realize I had such power over your sleep, princess."

You arched a brow, amused. "Only when you insist on swinging a sword at sunrise."

Arthur chuckled beside him, wiping the sweat from his brow. "There are worse ways to greet the morning."

Jaime smirked at that, but his eyes never left yours.

The morning stretched on, the embers of the fire still glowing, the weight of something unspoken settling between you.

#the golden oath #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #house targaryen #house lannister #got #got/asoiaf #asoiaf x reader #x reader #house of the dragon #fire and blood #hotd #jaime lannister #jaime x reader #jaime x you #jaime x y/n

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peachsukii · 1 year ago

Note

What if reader was a new classmate and months went by before bakugou even noticed them? Maybe noticed them for the first time while training one day or something and he became infatuated with reader (NSFW please! I <3 your writing!)

oooooh this is a great prompt, thank you for sending it in!! and thank you so much, it makes my day when someone compliments my writing! 🔥✨

Cruel Compulsions

『 ♡ 』 k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ senior year of UA | aged to 18 | infatuated & pining bakugo ꒱ ⇢ as a new transfer from a neighboring hero academy to UA, class 3A welcomes you with open arms. you fit in with the class seamlessly, with the exception of one person - katsuki bakugo. he doesn't give you the time of day, ignoring you any chance he gets since he views you as an "outsider." at least, that's what he projects and not how he truly feels.

꒰ tags & warnings ꒱ 18+ MDNI Smut; masturbation, dirty/lewd thoughts, wet dreams, first-time handjob, first kiss (bakugo) | obsessively infatuated, mutual pining, hidden feelings, avoidant but horny bakugo, mean/aggressive toward reader's attention, awkward confession, sexually-forward and comfortable reader, friends to friends with benefits, fluffy ending ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; ~2.4k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

Bakugo's in the school locker room after the day's training sessions, left forearm against the wall of the shower to hold himself upright with his head hung under the water's stream. His mind is swimming in a sea of dirty thoughts as his right hand fists his dick - your body floating in the aforementioned sea.

He couldn't help it, you're gorgeous and beautiful spank bank material without even trying.

───

You surprised everyone when UA announced your transfer so late in the hero course. He immediately had judgements before meeting you. How did you manage to transfer during senior year from another academy? Would you need special privileges to catch up to the classes' progress? You were probably some rich bitch who had daddy's money buy your spot in the program.

That all crumbled the moment you walked through the door of class 3As homeroom, Aizawa introducing you to the class on a random Wednesday in the summer.

"Treat her with respect. She's a top student from her previous academy and can kick just as much ass as the rest of you."

Bakugo's heart stuttered in his chest, hypnotized by the way your bare thighs complimented the uniform skirt you're forced to wear. Your button up didn't leave much to the imagination in terms of your luscious figure, the front buttons ever so slightly strained over your chest to contain your breasts. His face was hot as he ogled you, unknowingly drinking in your features to commit them to memory. The feeling was foreign as he'd never been so attracted, let alone infatuated, with anyone.

It had been months since your transfer and Bakugo couldn't bring himself to have a conversation with you without wanting to explode, no pun intended. His palms would drip with sweat, ready to ignite at the slightest touch if you asked him a question or greeted him in passing. He'd gotten into the habit of averting his gaze, turning his back to you or simply removing himself from your space if you got too close.

"Don't worry about him," Midoriya commented regularly about his best friend's behavior towards you. "He's not much of a people person. He'll warm up to you when he's ready!"

Months of endless wet dreams, steamy thoughts and longing stares. Wherever you went, you clouded his vision and blocked out the rest of the world. He didn't understand why he was so enamored with you. He just...was. He kept telling himself it wasn't an obsession, just a stupid ass crush that will pass with time.

News flash - it didn't.

He - the Katsuki Bakugo - didn't have the courage to ask you out.

───

The training period was at the end of the school day, thankfully, and most of the others preferred to head back to their dorms to shower, leaving Bakugo alone in the locker room. He was free to moan and groan in peace, the steam of the hot water only adding to his shameless delight.

"Nngh, it's...not...fair," he moans to himself, barely above a whisper. His grip tightens around his cock, hand slipping and sliding at a brutal pace, eyes screwed shut to watch the raunchy movie play in his mind. Your lying in his bed, remnants of sweat from sparring across your bare tits and stomach. Your UA track jacket is splayed beneath you, the only other article of clothing being a pair of pink lace panties covering your center.

Why pink? He didn't know, you just seemed like the kind of girl to wear lacy underwear - well, he wished you were the type of girl who wore sexy panties, especially if it was just for him.

Your lips were parted in anticipation, flush creeping up your chest and neck as it settled across your cheeks.

"Katsuki, please...," you begged, fluttering your eyes up at him. It didn't take much for him to crumble, swiping your panties to the side and thrusting deep into your soaked pussy.

Like clockwork, Bakugo explodes, covering his hand in spend before getting to imagine fucking you. He can never make it to touching you in any of his dreams, you're always just out of reach or he finishes, cutting the scenario short. He rinses the evidence down the drain and turns the water temperature ice cold.

───

The next day, Bakugo sluggishly made his way to homeroom, running a few minutes later than usual. He rounded the corner on the third floor when he practically bumps into you, startling himself.

"Oh! Morning Bakugo, how are you?" you ask, a pleasant smile gracing your lips. He stares at them, assuming you'd just applied lip gloss with the way they shine under the hallway lights.

"Fine." Bakugo turns his eyes to the floor, stuffing his hands into his pockets nervously. There's a pause between the conversation and his first instinct is to shove past you and bolt for homeroom, but he doesn't.

"Can I ask you something?" you say as you grab his forearm to take him away from the stairwell. He recoils at your touch, ripping his arm from your grasp.

"Sorry, I shouldn't...forget it."

You're turning to head down the hallway when his anxiety quiets for a split second, allowing him to speak to you for the first time in months.

"No, wait...'m sorry. What is it?"

Bakugo's eyes haven't left the tiles on the floor, but something is telling him what you wanted to ask was important. You don't turn to face him when your shoulders droop.

"You're always running from or actively avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?" There's a sadness in your voice that makes his heart drop into his stomach. He was an asshole for not thinking how his actions would affect you, too focused on running away like a fucking coward instead of treating you like a person.

"No. You didn't do anythin' wrong," he mumbles, tapping his foot restlessly.

"Then why the hell can you not even stand to be around me?! You're the only person in the whole class who acts like I have the plague."

'Shit, shit, fuck! What do I even say?' Bakugo thinks to himself, thoughts racing to find some kind of excuse. The words bubble up in his throat faster than he can stop them from spilling out.

"It's 'cause I like you!"

Uh oh.

You whip your whole body around to face him, eyes wide with an eyebrow cocked in confusion. "...What?"

His mind is screaming 'run!,' but his body won't move.

Shaking your head, you start to laugh, relishing in the ridiculousness of the situation. He liked you, but had a case of the "eww cooties!" bullshit? Oh, if only you knew.

"I'm not gonna talk about this here, I'll come by your dorm after classes today. Okay?"

Bakugo finally meets your gaze, gritting his teeth to prevent any other unwanted confessions. "...'kay."

You give him a wave and head off toward the 3A homeroom down the hall, leaving him with his thoughts.

───

After class, you keep your promise and head to the fourth floor of the dormitories to Bakugo's room. One tap of your knuckles and the door swings open.

"Hey, still free to talk?" You ask, giving him a second chance to shoo you away.

"Yeah, come in." It was taking everything in him not to dart into the hallway and run until he couldn't anymore. He shuts the door behind you quietly. The latch barely clicks when he feels your hand on his bicep, your grip catching him off guard and causing him to stumble into the wall. Your body is suddenly in his personal bubble, chest pressed against his when your lips crash on to his.

'Is this really fucking happening?'

A surprised groan escapes Bakugo between the kiss, his hands flexing at his sides to keep himself together. He can feel the excess sweat begin to stain his palms.

You pull back with a smack of your lips. "Better?"

His mind was completely blank while simultaneously running at mach speed. How do you look so...stunning, all the time? He could feel the stickiness of your lip gloss on his lips - it tasted better than he imagined it would, a faint cherry flavor dancing on his tongue.

"Earth to Bakugooo!" you call, waving a hand in front of his face.

Bakugo violently shivers, his nerves catching up with the emotions flowing through his whole body.

'Don't be a fucking coward, Katsuki. Just do it!' He screams internally, urging himself to make a goddamn move.

"Oh shit, was that your first kiss?!" you yell, not able to fathom that he had never been kissed. "I'm sorry, I assumed -"

He grabs the back of your head, diving in to capture your lips once more. Time slows to a crawl as Bakugo maps out every inch of your mouth, savoring every second of the moment. Your lips are much softer and plush than he dreamed they would be, and if you weren't holding on to him, he was convinced he'd float away into the stratosphere. You can feel the sweat on his palms drip against the nape of your neck, but it doesn’t bother you. It’s warm, a honey-like consistency seeping into the fabric of your uniform.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against your own.

"I would have assumed someone as hot as yourself would have a body count by now," you tease, tracing a light circle over his exposed collarbone.

"Shut up," he whispers shakily. "Was never interested in that shit."

"Fair enough, but right now, your body is telling me a different story."

You let your hand trail down his body, brushing against his clothed erection. Bakugo's entire body stiffens, all the muscles in his body turning to stone at the featherlight touch of your fingers.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

"No."

The answer is immediate, a growl swallowed by your mouths colliding once again. Your fingers trace the outline of the tent in his slacks a second time before mindlessly fumbling with his belt. His hands are occupied with grabbing your hair and waist to pull you as close as possible, all precaution on his side melting like putty in your hands. The adrenaline rush of it all was fueling the fire churning in his guts, practically high off your affection and you’ve barely touched him.

The belt clasp flops to each side as you maneuver your way through the buttons and zipper expertly.

'How the fuck is this happening right now?'

Your hand swiftly pulls at his slacks, enough to allow room to squeeze through the waistband of his boxers, your delicate fingers wrapping around his dick. It's throbbing, painfully so, and burning hot to the touch. Between sloppy kisses, Bakugo gasps as if it’s his last breath on earth, trembling beneath your palm. You thumb over the tip, using the pre-spend to glide your hand over his shaft. The moan that is coaxed out of him is deep and voracious, hungry for more of your touch. A lightning bolt strikes through your core, his ecstasy fueling your own desire as you continue to clash tongues with him.

“Your moans are so fucking hot, Katsuki,” you pant between kisses. “Way hotter than I ever dreamed they’d be.”

Oh god, you used his name. You’ve never said it before. And the first he’s hearing it is…like this? Bakugo’s rocketing toward orgasm at the thought of potentially hearing it again.

And again. And again.

Sparks are flying in his abdomen, an entire Fourth of July fireworks show erupting as he squirms beneath you. He’s interchangeably moaning and whining into your mouth, shuddering uncontrollably.

“Fuck, ‘m-mmph!”

He attempts to silence himself as he spills out all over your hand and in his boxers, endless ropes of white pouring out of him. You remove your hand from his pants, placing a peck to his cheek and walking into his bathroom.

What. The. Fuck!?

Bakugo’s in the afterglow of his orgasm, awestruck as he slouched against the wall trying to catch his breath. His chest heaved and thighs quivered - the fact that he was still standing was a miracle.

───

The two of you sat in silence on his bed, waiting for the other to start the conversation. He took a deep breath, turning to face you with blushing cheeks.

“I…never, fuck, sorry. I’m fuckin’ nervous,” Bakugo begins to explain, trying to compose himself. You tenderly slip your fingers in his, intertwining them in an awkward hold. It calms his nerves enough to continue.

“I didn’t understand this feelin’ at all. You show up outta nowhere and…knocked me on my ass. I’ve never experienced anythin’ like this and I…didn’t handle it well.”

“It’s alright, water under the bridge. For the record, I always thought you were hot,” you giggle, shooting him a wink. “You just kept running and didn’t let me hit on you.”

Of course Bakugo was his own worst enemy in this situation. He could see that clearly now as opposed to his previous blindness by a fierce case of infatuation. He smirked, finally letting his walls come down - brick by brick.

“I settled for kissing Kaminari one night instead.”

Your comment makes him choke on his own spit, sputtering out, “Y’kissed Dunceface?! When?!”

That gets you cackling, removing your hand from his as you fall back onto his bed. You’re holding your sides while Bakugo’s crossing his arms, nose to the ceiling at your reaction.

“Hah! It was months ago and only once. He cried after.”

Now he’s laughing, breaking his stoic facade. He’s somewhat taken aback by his own laughter, silently acknowledging how easy communicating with you turned out to be. You return to sitting upright and sigh.

“I’m sorry, too, for jumping you like that. We don’t have to talk about it, either.”

Bakugo fidgets with the hem of the comforter on his bed. “I said I didn’t want ya to stop, so don’t apologize.”

You smile, a rosy tint appearing on the apples of your cheeks. “I like you, Katsuki. I’m okay with doing this - no labels, fast or slow - while we get to know each other. No pressure, though. We could never talk again if that’s what you wanted.”

“I obviously like you too, idiot. Just be patient with me. ‘S all I ask of ya.”

“Deal!”

Bakugo leans over and kisses you, soft and slow, a way of him saying thank you. He’s unabashedly on cloud nine, glowing with newfound confidence, all thanks to you.

Did that stop his raunchy and taunting wet dreams in the coming months? Not even a little. He just has a better solution to his growing salacious appetite - you.

⋆ ˚ʚɞ — thank you again @bakubae-by for the prompt! 😊 tags; @slayfics

#bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #katsuki bakugou x reader #my hero academia smut #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo #☆ — written in ink

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bloodyknucklesforme · 4 months ago

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Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Bonus content!

This is just a scene that I couldn't fit into the previous chapters but I wanted to treat you guys for being so enthusiastic over the last update 💕

cw: cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking,

Masterpost

There was a pale pink box sitting on the bed when you got out of the shower. Nikolai always found a way to make your jaw drop. It was a gorgeous lingerie set. Black silk with sheer tulle and blue-pink beaded embroidered flowers. Bra, panties and garter with matching stockings. He left the price tag on. You didn't even know a bra could cost almost a thousand pounds.

He was waiting for you in the living room, lounging on the couch, cigar in hand.

"You dance at the club, no?"

"Sometimes." It wasn't your strongest talent. You could shake ass when needed but you weren't a big moneymaker on stage like other girls.

"Want you to dance for me." He fiddled with the remote, dimming the lights and turning on music. "Come here."

You stood between his knees, trying to sway to the beat the best you could. He had a small smile as you turned to sway your hips and ass in his face. He looked more amused than turned on.

"I'm sorry." You stopped. You shifted between your feet. "I don't really do this part."

"You are not good, that is true." He stuck a finger under the bottom elastic of your bra. "Still pretty."

He snapped the elastic, "On your knees, over the coffee table."

Nik kept you between his legs on the couch, panties wet with his spend dripping out of you. You traced his tattoos. You wanted to ask about them. You'd heard a lot of Russian tattoos had deeper meanings.

"Kolya?"

"hmm?"

"What does this say?" you asked, underlining the Cyrillic letters on his chest. He huffed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"It's my mother's name. She killed herself when I was young."

"I'm sorry." You kissed his left pec. It was easy to forget that you both existed outside of this building. That you each had lives before this. You could guess all the horrible things he'd done to get to where he was, you never thought about all the horrible things that could have happened to him.

His face didn't betray any emotion as usual. He had two stripes of white in his beard, just faint lines. How old he was, you supposed you'd never know. Old enough to be born in a country that no longer existed, watch the wall crumble and all the chaos that followed. You dragged your fingers across the lines.

He chuckled and caught your hand, pulling your fingers into his mouth to nip at them.

"Don't remind me I'm old." His teeth skated across your knuckles.

"I don't think you're that old." He raised an eyebrow at you. "Most old men don't leave bruises on my hips like you."

He laughed, tugging you flush against him.

"Keep talking like that and I'll never send you back." A flutter of hope. Nik was a deeply awful man and you'd come to understand that what he did to Marcus was a show of restraint. He was the snake in the garden, Hades in the underworld, a fae - dangling fruit in your face hoping you'll take the bait.

He'd never let you go if you did.

This is pretty unedited but I felt like I owed you guys once again.

#nikolai x reader #nikolai x f!reader #nikolai cod #dark fic #my writing #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #pomegranate #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader

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smoooothoperator · 9 months ago

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What Was I Made For?

14: War Of Hormones

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: 👀🤭

a/n: HIIIIIIII!!!! The moment I thought about a title for this chapter I had it very very clear, and somehow it made me go back to my BTS era... ANYWAY!!! Hoping everyone likes this one hehe

IMPORTANT: If someone wants to give me ideas of names you are very welcome! And ideas for a gender reveal too, I want to make it special and include your ideas!

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

Masterlist

previous part | next part

If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Facing a change often brings a mix of emotions.

At first, there's a sense of uncertainty and anxiety, as the familiar comfort zone is disrupted. This can feel like a tightness in the chest or a knot in the stomach. Alongside this, there's also a sense of anticipation and excitement about the new possibilities and opportunities that change might bring.

The mind races with 'what ifs' and potential outcomes, creating a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, of pros and cons, and doubts and hopes.

When Charles and I arrived at the house, the mix of emotions settled into a more tangible form. I tried not to think about the kisses he pressed on my knuckles or the squeezes he gave my thigh.

I knew something changed between us, that the tension was still there but it transformed into something else, something less forced and awkward. We didn't want to give a name to it, opting to stay quiet and only communicating with our eyes and smiles, with touches and acts.

While I made dinner, Charles changed clothes, fed my cat, and moved around the kitchen. I felt him behind me, watching over my shoulder, his presence a warm, silent pressure.

“Smells good” he whispered, close to my ear.

I took a deep breath before nodding and smiling, trying to not then my head to look at him. I just focused on the food in front of me and anything else. Not even his presence behind me. Not even his breathing against my hair. Not even his warmth.

“Thank you” I said, sounding more rough than I wanted, clearing my throat and swallowing thickly.

He moved away and in the moment I could finally breathe.

God, this is going to be hard.

“Dinner's ready” I sighed, putting the food on plates. “I'm going to get changed”

“If you want, you can grab some of my clothes” he suggested, his voice soft.

“O-oh… Don't worry” I nodded, blushing.

I walked upstairs and looked at the door of his room, taking a deep breath. Should I grab his clothes? He said I could… And the bottoms of my pajamas barely fit me anymore. Yeah, maybe I can grab a pair of joggers.

I took a deep breath and sighed, opening the door of his room and then going to the wardrobe. When I saw the joggers I smiled, grabbing a pair, noticing that he came with many pairs.

And then I saw it. The plushie. My cat plushie, the one I loved when I was a kid and thought I had lost. I extended my hand and held it, looking at it with wide eyes. It's my plushie, definitely. Washed, somehow fixed, but my plushie.

I held it close to my chest, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes tightly, to prevent the tears from falling.

“I found it when you left from Greek”

I gasped softly, turning around with the little cat still pressed on my chest.

“And you kept it all this time?” I whisper. “Charles…”

“I wanted to give it back to you so many times, but you always ran away” he sighed. “So I thought about bringing it for our baby”

“Oh, Charles” I smiled, placing my hand on my belly.

“I kept it all this time, just as a reminder of my first love” be sighed, walking towards me. “And when I went back home to grab clothes and bring them here, I found it in my wardrobe”

I smiled softly, watching how he walked closer towards me, placing his hand on my belly and rubbing it softly.

“I want the best for you and our baby, Dafne” he whispered.

“And you'll be the best” I nodded. “Just… Trust yourself more, believe in yourself”

He nodded and sighed, taking a step back, again.

God, no. I want him close, closer. I need him to touch me. I need his touch, so bad.

“Let's go have dinner” he said, walking out of his room.

I took a deep breath, getting changed quickly with his clothes and going to my room to leave my own clothes. I placed my plushie on top of my bed and smiled weakly, sighing.

Charles was already downstairs, with the plates already on the table in front of the TV. He was sitting on the couch looking at his phone, writing things on it.

“I was thinking… I know we said that we were only going to tell Pierre about the pregnancy” Charles said, looking up at me and following me with his eyes. “But, I think it will be better if we just tell them through the group chat. Tell all the drivers. Just in case the media ask them things, so they can help us”

“Are you saying that we should lie to them too?” I sighed, sitting next to him.

“They can help us, Dafne… If we tell them that we have been dating in secret but our team didn't want us together, I'm sure they will support us” he said, holding my hand.

“Okay” I nodded, sighing. “I just… I wish everything was different”

“Me too, believe me” he nodded.

We had dinner in silence, looking at the TV, and when we finished we just sat there. I felt his eyes on me, making me move and look at him.

“W-what?” I frowned, looking at him.

“Nothing” he smiled. “It's just…”

“Just what?” I make nervous.

“You are glowing” he smiled. “Really. Like, you were always gorgeous. But now? You look like a goddess”

“Idiot” I whisper, looking away, blushing.

“What? I'm not lying, I swear” he smiled. “You look so beautiful, Dafne. So damn beautiful carrying my baby, and it's so hard for me to stop looking at you”

“And touching me?” I said, regretting immediately what I said.

“Touching you?” he laughed. “God, not doing it is the hardest thing ever”

“And why you don't do it?” I mumbled.

“Believe me, I'm dying to touch you” he whispered, his voice sounding deeper than before. “I'm fighting myself to not do it”

“I told you that those lines can be crossed” I sighed.

“No, Dafne” he sighed, shaking his head. “I can't”

I swallowed thickly and looked at him. What lines does he want to cross?

I sighed, looking away and focusing on the TV screen, or at least tried to. But the way his deep voice sent me shivers was repeating in my mind, making me look at him sometimes, scanning his face with my eyes.

His beard is making him even more attractive, and his lips… God, I don't remember how it feels kissing him, or even touching him. The night we had in Monza was something blurry, I barely remember what happened there.

I wish I could feel that again…

No. No, Dafne. Stop it.

“I-I was thinking about start… Well, nesting” I whisper.

“Oh?” Charles smiled, turning his head sand looking at me.

“Yeah, well… I just, I guess it's time to start doing it” I sighed. “You know… Buy things, start planning a room. The typical”

Charles never stopped smiling while hearing me, and he moved closer, sitting right next to me with his arm on the back of the couch.

“You want to raise the kid here?” he whispered.

“I mean… I- I don't know” I sighed. “I have my apartment in Florence, and yours is in Monaco. I didn't think about it, actually… Before you came I only wanted to stay here and never leave”

“But then I came and broke all your plans” he sighed, leaning on me to place his hand on my belly.

“Yeah” I sighed. “But… I'm kinda glad you came. I think I needed to have you here, somehow. I can't do this alone, this is way harder than I thought…”

“Hey” he smiled. “We're in this together. I'll go wherever you want to go. You want to stay here? Then I'll come back here. You want to go to your apartment in Florence? Then I'll be there. I'll do whatever you told me to do”

“Thank you, Charles” I smiled, looking up at him.

I found his eyes, his green eyes looking into my eyes. He's so close, so close… I can feel his breath against my lips. Only a few centimeters…

“Cross the line” I whisper, my voice trembling with need. “Cross it…”

“Dafne” he whispered.

“Please” I whisper, licking my lips, moving my hand to cup his jaw. “Please?”

He sighed, moving back and shaking his head.

“Is it because I'm pregnant?” I frowned. “You say I look beautiful, but you don't even dare to stand behind me, to hold me. Not even kiss me”

“No, Dafne” he sighed, messing his hair with his fingers. “It's not that”

“Then what is it? Please, tell me” I sighed.

“I don't want to hurt you” he said.

“Come on” I laughed, somehow trying to swallow the tears. “You are already hurting me whenever you stand close to me and can't even place your hand on my waist”

“I want to repeat that night!” he snapped, making me flinch, surprised. “I want to remember how it is to touch you, to kiss you. I want to remember how you sound when you moan my name and when you squeeze me. I want to do it over and over again. But I can't do it because I don't want to hurt you and the baby!”

I swallow thickly and look at him, standing up slowly.

“I… I'm going to bed” he sighed. “Good night”

“Charles-” I mumbled watching him go, my heart aching in need of his touch.

But he was already walking upstairs, closing the door of his room.

The bed felt cold and too big, an emptiness that hadn't been there before.

But what changed? Why does it feel cold and big now?

I sighed, turning again in the bed, facing the window, then looking at the digital clock. Five minutes passed since the last time I looked at it.

“Fuck” I groaned, sitting slowly on the bed and looking at the door.

I sighed, pacing the room. Should I go downstairs? Should I go to his room?

And before I could even think about it, I was already in front of his door, with my knuckles hitting the door softly three times.

I heard some steps seconds after knocking and then his door opened.

“Dafne?” he murmured.

“I can't sleep” I whispered back.

“Is the baby kicking hard?” he whispered, placing his hands on both sides of my belly.

“N-no… No” I whisper. “I just… Can you sleep in my bed? Please?”

“Dafne…” he sighed, stepping back and shaking his head, his conflict evident.

“Please. The baby seems calm when your hand is on my belly” I whisper. “And well, I feel good too”

I heard him sigh and I just closed my eyes, taking a step closer and wrapping my arms around him.

“Look…” I sighed. “I'm going crazy, okay?”

“What? Why?” he whispered, and I sighed in relief when he wrapped his arms around me too.

“Because the fucking hormones are killing me” I groaned. “You just can't say that you want to fuck me and make me moan your name. You really can't do it”

“Dafne…” he sighed.

“You think I don't want to?” I whisper. “Hell. Something changed between us, I know. And it's going so fast that it's scaring me. You know I hate changes, that I hate doing new things. You know how bad it was for me when I moved to Ferrari… And know what is changing is how I look at you”

“But I don't want to hurt the baby, Dafne” he whispered, placing his hand on my head. “I don't want to do something wrong and hurt the baby”

I swallowed thickly and hugged him tighter, with my belly between us.

“Tomorrow morning, we'll go to a doctor” I whisper.

“Hey, no…”

“Yes” I whisper. “I have to go anyway, hm? We will see our baby and then we'll check if everything is alright. And we'll ask the doctor everything we need to know”

“Are you sure?” he whispered.

“The hormones are making me horny, Charles” I laughed nervously. “You know how embarrassing it is?”

He chuckled softly, rubbing my back. He rested his chin on top of my head, taking a deep breath and playing with my hair.

“Let's go to bed” he sighed, pulling away and holding my hand, walking us to my room.

I smiled sleepily, holding his hand tight and then rubbing my belly, taking a deep breath when I saw Charles walking inside of my room and going straight to my bed.

“Left?” he whispered, making me nod.

He moved the covers of the bed so he could lay on the left side, opening the covers for me to lay next to him.

“Hold me” I whispered looking at him. “Please?”

He smiled and nodded, moving closer. I followed his movements with my eyes, taking a deep breath to ignore the anxiety of the situation.

“Can I… Can I try something?” he whispered.

I nodded looking at him. He smiled and took the covers out looking at me, his eyes asking for permission.

“Go on” I whisper, feeling shivers all over my body.

A soft gasp escaped me as his hand gently lifted my shirt, revealing my belly. His hand, warm and gentle, began to rub my skin.

“There it is” he whispered, smiling amazed.

Until now, the only person that touched my bare belly besides myself was the doctor that told me the news, who had to do a scan to check if everything was alright. And now, looking at Charles admiring it, only makes my heart beat faster.

I flinched softly when I felt his hand on my skin, but relaxed immediately when he started rubbing it. His hand is so big, practically covering my belly with it.

“Hey baby” he whispered, his voice filled with pure love, making my heart jump.

He's talking to the baby.

“It's me, dad” he smiled, moving on the bed to be face to face with my stomach. “I can't wait to meet you, little one. Really, I can't wait”

I took a deep breath and placed my hand on top of his head, burying my fingers on his hair and closing my eyes when I felt his lips on my stomach, pressing tender kisses there. He wrapped his arm around my hips, rubbing his thumb over my stomach.

“I just… God, Dafne. This is the best thing you could ever give to me” he whispered looking up at me. “A kid…”

“Yeah” I smiled.

“And in part it makes me hate myself for all the pain I gave you” he whispered. “And how bad it was the moment we made it…”

“The past is the past” I sighed. “Let's forget it, okay? Let's just focus on what we have now, on this chance of be the best version of ourselves”

He looked at me and smiled, resting his chin on top of my belly, carefully. He held my head and kissed it, taking a deep breath before pressing a new kiss on my belly button.

“Saying thank you is not enough for everything you are doing” he whispered.

I smile weakly and squeeze his hand softly, taking a deep breath.

The way he looks at me is new. How he kisses my belly, how he closes his eyes when he does that. How he smiles, rubbing the tip of his nose and making me giggle softly.

“Come on, let's sleep” I whisper, yawning softly.

He smiled and nodded, moving to be in front of me but not pulling down the shirt. His face was in front of mine, his eyes looking into mine.

“Hi” I whisper smiling, biting my lip softly.

“Hi” he smiled.

I looked at him and took a deep breath, placing my hand on his jaw, rubbing my thumb over his cheek.

“Dafne…”

And then I did it.

I leaned in, my hand cupping his cheek as I pressed my lips to his in a kiss that held all the emotions I had kept locked away, deep inside of my heart. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then it deepened, fueled by the months of longing and tension that had built up between us.

Charles responded immediately, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me closer. The kiss was a release, a breaking of the dam that had held back our feelings for so long. My fingers tangled in his hair, my body pressing against his as I poured everything into that moment.

When we pulled away, both of us were breathless, resting our foreheads against the other.

“I told you that you can cross all the lines you want” I whisper, making him chuckle softly.

“I want to cuddle you” he whispered, making me nod and smile.

“All the times you want” I smiled, closing my eyes and letting him get comfortable in my bed beside me.

The next morning, his hand was under my shirt, gently rubbing my belly just as he has done last night.

I groaned softly, moving closer to him and feeling his warm chest on my back, sighing happily.

“Good morning” he whispered, his lips brushing my shoulder, making me smile. “How did you sleep?”

“Amazing” I whisper, turning my head, looking at him.

“That's good” he smiled, pressing his lips in the corner of my mouth. “So… What are today's plans?”

“Well… We can go to the village” I sighed, turning around slowly and hugging him. “Ask the doctor to have a fast appointment, meet our baby, and maybe go buy things”

“Mhm, sounds nice” he smiled, kissing my forehead.

The tension left my shoulders the moment he kissed me back last night, and this morning, and during all the times he woke up at night pressing a kiss on my shoulder.

“And we should call Fred…” I sighed, biting my lip when I heard him groan. “I know, I know…”

“It's just…” he sighed, pulling me closer. “I'm so happy in this bubble we’re in. I don't want to mess things up. I just… Can't we wait a little? Just a few more days”

I looked up at him and smiled weakly.

He's right, we are in a bubble, ignoring the outside world, just focusing on us. For once, we were acting like normal people.

“Alright” I sighed.

I took a deep breath and hugged him, resting my head on his chest and wrapping my arm around his waist. As I tangled my leg with his, he flinched slightly.

“Eh… Wait” he whispered, tensing.

“What? What’s wrong?” I frowned, following his gaze. “O-oh…”

“Y-yeah” he sighed.

I swallowed thickly and moved, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

“I mean…” I whispered, looking up at the ceiling. “I could…”

“No, no” he said quickly. “God no, not yet. Just…”.

He sighed, sitting quickly on the bed and getting out, going to the bathroom of my room.

So that's what happened yesterday too. He had to leave the bed quickly because of his morning hood.

“Fantastic” I groaned, covering my eyes with my arm.

I heard him opening the water of the shower, then his groans. God, if only… I could help him.

I got up from bed and grabbed the joggers I was wearing, walking slowly to the door of the bathroom and knocking on it.

“I'm going to make breakfast” I said, opening the door a little. “And I'll call the doctor to see when we can go”

“S-sure!” he gasped.

God… Send help.

I shook my head, rubbing my belly while I walked downstairs to get our breakfast ready. When I finished, and noticing that Charles didn't get out of the bathroom yet, I called the doctor to set an appointment.

“Hey” Charles sighed, walking inside the kitchen with an awkward smile. “Look…”

“I could have touched you, Charles” I whispered. “I could have help you, you didn't have to go to the bathroom and hide”

“I know, I know” he sighed, standing in front of me, and something inside of me threw a party when he placed his hands on my hips. “It's just… I want to do it all, okay? Go all in”

I smiled weakly and looked at him, nodding. He leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss on my forehead, making me close my eyes and breathe deeply, smiling when I recognized the shower gel I use.

“I called the doctor” I said. “We can go whenever we want, she's free this morning”

“Oh?” he frowned, surprised.

“Advantages of being near a village that doesn't have over a hundred of people living there” I smiled softly.

“Oh, okay” he smiled.

I looked up at him, smiling while leaning on the counter. He placed his hands on my sides and leaned slowly, pressing his lips on mine, kissing me softly and slowly, with no rush.

“I can't believe I can do this” he whispered against my lips before kissing me again. “I've dreamed of doing it for so long… For tasting your lips again… It's been a while…”

I pulled away slowly, looking at him with a sad smile.

“All this time?” I whisper.

“Since you kissed me in Greece” he smiled.

I smile softly and peck his lips quickly. He pulled away and helped me grabbing the breakfast, placing it on the table and sitting in front of me.

Time went by fast, and before we noticed, he was already parking his car in front of the medical center of the village, holding my hand and waiting to get called.

“It will be okay” he whispered, placing his hand on my knee after noticing how I was bouncing it nervously.

“I know” I whisper.

“Dafne Morelli?”

We stood up, still holding hands, as the nurse called my name and led us into the consultation room. An older woman sat behind the desk, smiling warmly as we entered.

“It was a surprise for me when I heard your voice this morning through the call” she said. “You must be Elena's daughter, right?”

“Y-yeah” I smile weakly.

“Well, let me tell you that I was your mom's doctor during your little sister's pregnancy” she smiled, making me gasp softly. “She was one of my first patients… God, how fast time flies, hm?”

I smiled nodding slowly, looking at her. She gestured to us to sit on the chairs in front of her desk.

“He might be your husband, hm?” she smiled looking at Charles.

“O-oh! No, no! We… We are not married” I gasped, shaking my head. “But he's the father of the baby”

“Oh good to know” she smiled, winking at us. “Well, tell me. How is it going?”

I took a deep breath and told her everything. My career, how I found out I was pregnant, how far, what the first doctor said… Everything.

“Well, then let's take a look on the bed, yeah?” she smiled.

I nodded, getting up followed by Charles. He helped me sit on the high bed and then I raised up the jumper I was wearing, taking a deep breath when the doctor grabbed the gel. I flinched when she spread it with the stick and immediately held Charles hand.

“Well, well… Let's take a look” she smiled, looking at the screen. “For what I can see you are around the week 17, close to the fifth month. Right now, your baby is of the size of a pear”

“Yeah” I nodded, looking at Charles.

“Do you know the gender?” We shook our heads and she smiled. “You want to know?”

“W-we… We actually wanted to do a little gender reveal, so if you could print the results…” Charles said softly, squeezing my hand.

“Oh, sure!” she nodded, pressing a button on the keyboard and then the printer started working. “Are you ready to look and hear your baby?”

Charles and I looked at each other with a smile, holding our hands tightly. We nodded nervously, taking a deep breath before the doctor turned the screen to us.

“Here, there is your baby” she smiled, moving the stick over my belly again and making the picture of the screen change.

I gasped, tears immediately springing to my eyes. It was so small, but so perfect. I turned to look at Charles, his eyes wide with amazement, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He was speechless, just staring at the screen in awe.

And then we heard it. A steady, fast and rhythmic thumping filled the room: our baby’s heartbeat. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

I looked back at the screen, mesmerized by the tiny life growing inside me, and then back at Charles. His eyes were glistening with unshed tears, his expression one of pure joy.

"That’s… that’s our baby" he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

I nodded, unable to speak through the lump in my throat. I reached up and wiped away a tear from his cheek, my own tears streaming freely down my face.

"Yes, that’s our baby," I managed to say, my voice trembling with happiness.

The doctor gave us a moment, letting us soak in the incredible sight and sound.

"Everything looks perfect," she said, her voice gentle. "The heartbeat is strong and steady."

The doctor printed out a couple of ultrasound images for us, and Charles held them carefully, as if they were the most precious thing in the world.

"Look at this," he said, showing me the tiny, grainy image. "Our baby."

"Our baby," I repeated, feeling a sense of peace and happiness wash over me.

I smiled, feeling his lips against mine before he pulled away and grabbed some napkins to clean my belly, taking the chance and kissing my belly quickly.

“I… Well, we wanted to know some things” I said nervously, holding Charles' hand.

“Oh, sure” she nodded, writing on her laptop.

“W-well… Is it if we… Well” I mumbled blushing, looking at Charles.

“Oh! Oh, yes” she laughed softly. “Yeah, I get it. Young love! Of course you can. It's safe for the baby, don't worry about it”

“Oh, thank you” I nodded, sighing ashamed.

“Cuties” she chuckled.

I blushed and looked at Charles, biting my lip. He held my hand and grabbed everything the doctor gave us and walked out with me.

“Well, what do you want to do now?” Charles smiled, holding my hand tightly.

I took a deep breath and looked at him, biting my lip.

“I…”

And then a flash. Flash of a camera. Then another. And another.

“Fuck” Charles groaned, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and walking quickly towards the door of the car, helping me get in.

I looked around surprised, watching the small number of paparazzi taking pictures of us. Then they called our names, taking more pictures.

“Shit” Charles groaned, getting in the car and driving quickly away from the village.

“H-how? How did they find us?” I mumble, looking back through the mirror.

“I don't know” Charles groaned. “Are you okay?”

I nodded quickly, placing a protective hand over my belly and then holding his free hand.

They found me. They found us.

The three of us.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @caterinemirandax_ @mid5nights @harrysdimple05

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diorsluv · 1 year ago

Text

feather , part 3

“ i’m your dream come true ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, _alexturcotte, lhughes_06 and 103,016 others

yourusername quinn kept provoking me at the ducks @ nucks game and started throwing a bitch fit because i was rooting for MY BROTHER’S TEAM so here’s to all the quinn girls ❤️❤️ (ft. jacky poo poo bear and trev because he played so well tn)

and just so you know i like the habs better 🙄

tagged: _quinnhughes, trevorzegras

view all comments

jackhughes I’VE NEVER SEEN THE MIDDLE PHOTO BEFORE

→ yourusername that’s bc i just made it babes

→ jackhughes all hail mini drizz, our graphic designer lord and savior 🙏

jamie.drysdale oh my god

_quinnhughes OH MY GOD

→ yourusername YEAH WHAT ARE U GONNA DO ABOUT IT NOW HUH

→ colecaufield don’t provoke him 😧

username51 SOULJA BOYYYY TELL EM

→ yourusername BABY YOU KNOW THAT I MISS YOU

lhughes_06 WHERE DID YOU GET THAT PHOTO OF HIM WHEN WE WERE KIDS

→ yourusername a magician never tells her secrets 🫢

→ lhughes_06 oh god i’m next aren’t i

→ yourusername idkkk 😈😈😈

trevorzegras I MADE IT ON THE MAIN

→ yourusername yes you did!

username28 the quinner album edit???

username3 we quinn girls thank you 🙏

username92 the huggy bear behind the scenes photos 🤧

_quinnhughes

liked by jamie.drysdale, markestapa, adamfantilli and 39,738 others

_quinnhughes she’s literally climbing something in half these photos

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername HAH YOU HAVE LESS PHOTOS THAN ME AND THEY’RE NOT EVEN THAT BAD EITHER

→ _quinnhughes YOU MAKE IT DIFFICULT TO TAKE BAD PHOTOS OF YOU

→ yourusername that’s a compliment dumbass

luca.fantilli disclaimer: NEVER try to bring her to top golf or she will accidentally hit you with a golf ball

→ yourusername YOU’RE SPREADING RUMORS ABOUT ME WTFFF 😟

→ rutgermcgroarty I’M A WITNESS

→ yourusername YOU WEREN’T EVEN THERE

username20 it’s impossible to take bad photos of this woman confirmed

jackhughes mom said to “stop terrorizing luke’s poor girl”

→ lhughes_06 SHE SAID “stop terrorizing THAT poor girl”

→ yourusername woah there slow your roll bud i’m not anyone’s girl 😐

→ _quinnhughes oh my god she literally did it to me first

trevorzegras what the shit is going on

→ _quinnhughes what the hell is “what the shit”

username40 I WAS AT THE STORE AND I SAW QUINN POINTING THAT WATER GUN AT HER HEAD WHATTTT

markestapa i think you should start putting a leash on her

→ yourusername nonono i think we’re good (don’t give them ideas)

→ edwards.73 lil drizzy as a leash kid???

→ yourusername STOP IT WITH THE LIL DRIZZY ALREADY

next chapter notes ) so she’s a short one but i liked it a lotttt i’m probably gonna go inactive for finals week (i know it’s horrible 😥) BUT I WILL BE BACK AND GREATER THAN EVER

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes fic #jack hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex turcotte #quinn hughes #mark estapa #rutger mcgroarty #ethan edwards #luca fantilli #adam fantilli #mackie samoskevich #dylan duke #umich hockey #jamie drysdale

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lemon-glaze · 6 months ago

Text

a year

⊹₊ obey me! satan x gn! reader︱one shot ⊹₊ tags⟢ sfw, fluff, nightbringer era, ~700 words ⊹₊ notes⟢ satan finds you working on your scrapbook.

"What are you up to?"

Satan curiously glanced at the mess of brightly colored, multi-patterned paper scattered across the table in your room. Neon markers and various sheets of stickers, tape, and photographs surrounded you as you held a gluestick ready to glue your next paper victim ; he had only come to drop off a book he borrowed.

“Hm? Oh! It's the end of the month again, so I’m continuing the work on my scrapbook. Although, it looks like it's the last few pages for this year. Wanna take a look!?” With glitter and tape covered fingers, you waved him over to the seat next to you.

He hesitated for a moment but accepted the invitation and sat down, placing the borrowed book on the table.

“I only came by to return the book I borrowed, it was a…surprisingly wonderful read. I was not expecting such an ending but I did find it fitting.”

“Thanks, I knew you’d like it! But we can discuss it later, look at this!” You closed the scrapbook and held it up to him so he could read the front, A Year In The Devildom.

“So you've been working on that all year?”

“Yep! I start a new scrapbook every year. As much as I love living in the moment,” Satan watched as you delicately touch the cover, “I do appreciate capturing those moments and putting them somewhere special. It's therapeutic for me, I love reminiscing the good times. And this year is extra special…being in the Devildom has been life changing.”

You hug the book to your chest and then plop it down onto the table, flipping to the first page. A photo of a disastrous dinner gone wrong featuring all of the brothers fighting while you took a selfie among the chaos.

“I took that the first week I was here. I didn't know it'd be a reoccurring thing!” You laughed to yourself and continued flipping through the book.

All the pages were filled from top to bottom with vibrant colors, small drawings and stickers, and almost too many photos of the brothers, RAD, and the other exchange students. Little moments like Belphie snoozing at the table and Beel eating off his plate. Mammon getting tied up and hung as punishment. Satan smiling while petting a stray —

“When did you take that one!?” He asked in disbelief, embarrassed to have been caught at such a moment.

“Oh um…I was out with Simeon and Luke on an errand, you were having so much fun and I couldn't resist snapping a photo. Especially since you were so moody back then…” You trailed off and sheepishly looked away.

Satan furrowed his brows, “What do you mean?”

You quickly turned your head back towards him, “Well, when I first came here, you hated everyone and everything.”

You flipped to the next page, “You've changed a lot in the last year you know. Look.”

Satan watched as you continued to flip through the pages; many of the earlier photos showing either a scowl or bored look on his face. He never realized how he kept his distance from everyone in the photos, but as you kept turning the pages more and more towards the end of the book, he became more in focus, closer to everyone. Previous scowls turned to smiles and laughter. Especially in the ones that included you.

“Do you see it now?”

“Yeah.”

It was only until now that he realized how much you've changed him and he couldn't believe it took a scrapbook to see it. Or maybe he always knew deep down, he just couldn't face the fact that you changed him in such a short amount of time.

You flipped to the next page, half-finished.

“I was actually working on this page before you came in, do you want to help me?” You reach beside you and flip a photo over. A candid photo taken by Asmo, of you and Satan walking and chatting in the RAD courtyard; eyes shining bright and laughing.

Satan nodded with a gentle smile,

“Yeah, I'd like that.”

#writing.✩#obey me #obey me satan #obey me fanfic #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x mc #obey me satan x you #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me fic #obey me oneshot #divider by saradika #sfw lemon-glaze

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sgstories123 · 11 months ago

Text

Losing Hope 1 - The first step

“Here’s your order. Thank you very much.” Hope smiled as she handed over the fries and a large Coke.

The young man with the red dyed hair and a black motorcycle jacket decked with silver chains and other accessories gave her an appreciative look and smiled sweetly at her. “Thanks. What time you knock off tonight?” He looked at her name tag before adding “Hope Lee?”

The manager of the fast food store walked over and stared at the young man quietly. The young man got the hint quickly, turned away and muttered “Thanks.”

“If that guy bothers you again, let me know.” The manager whispered to Hope softly. After making sure that there was no more trouble, the manager walked back to the kitchen.

It was already past midnight and there were few customers in the store. Hope saw that the young man had joined a table with another young man and two other young women. They were all about Hope’s age, late teens or early twenties at most. Maybe like her, they were still in poly, Hope thought to herself.

She had noticed that the other guy at the table had been there almost every night since she started working in the store a week ago. He had a boyish charm, and highlighted his hair blonde. Like the other few times that Hope had seen him, he was wearing a tight fitting t-shirt, with his chest, arm and abs making clear lines. Hope had hoped that he would order something so that she could have a chance to talk to him. But he was always seating there, speaking or texting. He talked very little to the rest, seeming to just bark orders at the group. Throughout the night, different men and women would join him at the table and then leave when he told them to. At about 3 or 4 am, the blonde hair guy will then leave the store.

Tonight was no different. The blonde hair guy was again sitting quietly. The two girls were trying to get him to talk to them as they locked their arms into his. They joked and laughed, rubbing their bodies close to him. But he did not seem interested. He did listen attentively when the red hair man spoke to him. The blonde hair guy looked up and scanned the restaurant before smiling at Hope. Hope heart melted on the spot. He actually smiled at me, she thought happily. And he looked so cute, like some K-Pop star. Hope felt her knees going weak as she held onto the counter for support.

But the blonde hair guy looked away almost immediately. Hope was disappointed. Was he interested in her? Her mind was confused and thought the night, she kept on looking at him, hoping that he would smile at her again. Like previous nights, the blonde hair guy continued to sit at his seat, looking at his phone intermittently. He did some texting and told the red hair guy something. The red hair guy gulped down the rest of his Coke and motioned the two girls to follow him. The two girls seemed reluctant to leave and tried holding on to the blonde guy. He brushed them off, taking little interest in them. A few minutes later, the blonde hair guy left the restaurant without even looking at Hope. Hope was devastated. The guy was not interested in her after all.

A few hours later, Hope punched out from her shift. It was tiring to work the midnight shift at the 24 hour McDonald’s in Bedok but it was only three bus stops away from her home so it was not so bad. The work is light too. As she walked out of the restaurant, she saw the blonde guy leaning against the wall a short distance away. He was smoking a cigarette and when he saw her, he spat the cigarette on the floor before stubbing it out with his foot.

“I give you a lift home.” He did not even wait for an answer before he took her hand and pulled her into the doorway leading to the basement carpark of the shopping mall. Hope followed him to his motorcycle and they were soon speeding out of the carpark. “Let’s go for breakfast.” He was taking charge of the situation and did not seem to care whether Hope agreed to it or not. “Hold on tight.” He commanded Hope, grabbing her hands around his waist tightly. Hope was ecstatic. Here she was holding on to this cute guy whom she had a crush on. She did not even care if he was a total stranger as she hugged him tighter, her head resting on his strong back as she felt his hard abs through the t-shirt. She wondered if she dared to reach lower and touch his manhood. She blushed immediately at the dirty thoughts flowing through her head.

They stopped behind a row of shophouses in Geylang. Hope mused that her lift home had actually brought her further away. He pulled her along again, before sitting her at a table in a coffee shop. He motioned to an auntie walking past and she nodded silently. A couple of minutes later, the auntie brought them two sets of buttered toast and coffee. Hope tried to talk to the guy a couple of times but he just motioned her to eat her toast, refusing to talk to her. She gave up and they ate in silence.

“Finished? Let’s go up.” Again, without waiting for an answer, he pulled her up and led her up a flight of steps at the back of the coffee shop. He pulled her into a small room before locking the door after them. The room was dimly lit by a pair of red lights shining from an alter. There was also a desk with a laptop on it, a couple of white plastic storage boxes with clothes piled in it and a mattress on the floor. It seems to be a temporary bedroom of sorts.

He pushed her onto the mattress and roughly pulled off her jeans and panties. Realising that her shoes got in the way, he wrenched them off her feet but he did not bother to take off her socks. He unzipped his jeans and pulled them down just enough to expose his hard cock. In the dim red light, his cock looked monstrous. Hope was filled with both fear and lust. With his jeans still around his thighs, the blonde guy spitted onto his hands and lubricated his cock with his saliva. He lifted Hope’s legs, spreading them out before leaning forward, aiming his love spear directly onto its target.

“Fuck!” He cursed as his cock met with resistance. He tilted his body forward as he tried to push his cock in, grunting heavily. He pulled Hope’s legs further apart, and lifted her lower body higher, giving himself a more strategic position for his attack. The resistance fell apart quickly, as his giant rod broke through and pushed the walls apart. Hope screamed as pain seared through her body, as her hymen tore, allowing the first foreign invader into virgin land. As his cock rushed through the narrow tunnel, it destroyed her innocence and purity. Previously untouched, it was now ravaged without hesitation or empathy. The blonde guy rammed his cock hard and in its first attack, pushed it all the way in one hard push. It was the tightest defence he had ever encountered and he paused just a second to catch his breath. He withdrew almost completely before plunging his cock in hard for a second attack.

Hope screamed even louder at the second wave of pain hit her. Tears were forming and blinding her. “Stop! Please stop!” The guy ignored her and continued with several deep and hard thrusts. Hope tried to push him away but he pushed her hand away, locking them above her head. Leaning on top of Hope and pressing his body hard against her, he squashed all air from her, crushing both her will and her ability to resist. He bit her hard on her neck, tasting the trickle of blood emanating from the torn skin.

As Hope became distracted with the pain from the bite on her neck, she realised that pleasure was now emanating from her lower body. Mixed with the pain, she was confused as to whether this was pleasurable or not. The blonde guy was now pushing his cock faster and deeper into her. Her body was involuntarily rocking to his rhythm. His body no longer felt as if it was crushing her but instead, she welcomed the heat from his body and embraced him even tighter. She could hear herself moaning in pleasure. She felt herself drifting above as she looked down at herself being fucked by her dream guy. The pleasure was building up and when she could hold it back no more, a great tidal wave of pleasure burst from her dam, as she experienced her first orgasm. She moaned loudly as her juices flowed out of her, drenching the sheets beneath her.

The blonde guy seemingly encouraged by her, increased his attacks, jabbing harder and faster. With a final thrust and a victorious grunt, he emptied his soldiers into the defenceless city, becoming the first king of this sacred land. There will be others but he was the first. He slumped over Hope, as his cock continue throbbing out the last few regiments, enjoying the fading pleasures of his conquest.

As his cock softened and plopped out of Hope’s cunt, the blonde guy sat up and took out a cigarette to smoke. It was only then that he saw the blood on his cock.

“Fuck! Why you never tell me your auntie is here, you fucking dirty whore!” The blonde guy screamed.

“No, that’s not it. The blood is from my hymen. I was a virgin and you are my first.” Hope whispered shyly.

“Liar! You virgin?” The blonde guy was disbelieving. He examined his cock and her cunt carefully. “Fuck! No wonder you so tight. Strike ToTo!” The blonde guy was clearly happy and Hope was relieved. “Are you happy that I gave my first time to you?” She asked shyly.

The blonde guy did not answer her but took out his hand phone and started taking photos of his blood-stained cock and Hope’s blood-stained cunt. Hope tried to stop him and shielded herself but the blonde guy simply pushed her hands away and took the pictures forcefully.

“Now we must fuck again.” He informed Hope as he set up his phone in record mode.

“Do you love me?” Hope asked.

The blonde guy did not answer. He pushed Hope onto the mattress and repeated what he had done earlier. As he plunged his hard cock into the now well-lubricated cunt, Hope moaned in pleasure.

“Fuck! You are supposed to be a virgin. Don’t moan like a slut! Scream like what you did just now. Fucking a virgin video can sell more money than fucking a slut.” The blonde guy whispered fiercely. He then bit Hope hard and this time, Hope screamed in pain, for real.

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lemotmo · 18 days ago

Note

We can all have missed him while admitting that it made sense.

Q. I'm annoyed at myself for being annoyed at the lack of Eddie 😂

A. While I'm still very confused as to why Karla didn't receive a co-directing credit for 8x13 they clearly cut his scenes from this episode and made them into a stand alone episode for Invisible, and after watching the episode it was absolutely the right thing to do. Cutting away from the contagion stuff to Texas stuff would have obliterated the pacing of this episode (I do love that they still had Buck work in an Eddie reference though). This was the unfortunate consequence of Tim wasting so much screen time in the first half of the season on Brad nonsense. I will forever be annoyed at the Brad crap (no offense to Callum he seems lovely). I understand they had to work around Gavin's availability but kids disappear into the 'kiddie cubbard' all the time on television. He didn't need to leave the state. They could have handled the entire thing better, but I'm not going to spend too much time harping on it because this episode was amazing. And the Eddie/Christopher stuff of the last episode was lovely and deserved to exist as it's own thing and not be second fiddle to the contagion storyline. For that reason I'm actually very happy they gave them their own room to breathe for an episode. And I think Eddie will be in episode 15 and the remaining episodes, so while I'm sad we didn't get to see army medic Eddie in action (😔), it made sense from a pacing standpoint.

Thank you Nonny!

Yeah, it was a great episode I agree. I also agree that any Eddie & Chris scenes wouldn't have fit into this episode at all. So I am happy they gave Eddie his own storyline in the previous episodes.

But I stand by the opinion that they should have kept this story-idea for the season 9 opener. Then they could have had all of their main actors and characters there and it would have made a greater impact. Especially with Eddie's skills.

I don't know. I just really miss Eddie in the 118 to be honest. It's like Ali said and I talked about it in my previous posts as well, the Vertigo plot was just not a good idea and it created so many problems for season 8 when it comes to Eddie's character.

But alas, it is what it is. I enjoyed the episode and I'm looking forward to 8x15. They can't leave a main character like Eddie out of three episodes in one season, so I'm sure he'll be there in some capacity. Let's see what they have in store for us.

Onwards to next week! 🤗

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #nonnies galore #911 8x14 #911 8x15 speculation #911 abc #911 spoilers

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podemechamardeeli · 10 months ago

Text

Tiny Town Challenge Expanded - The Sims 3

The inspiration for this challenge came from Deligracy's Tiny Town challenge for The Sims 4 (Original rules HERE). I loved the idea of the challenge, but The Sims 3 has a huge advantage: it already has an open world, so the houses didn't need to be restricted to one lot, but instead, we could build a real community. That's why, in addition to translating, I took some time to adapt it in the best possible way to everything that TS3 offers us.

I kept the characteristics of the Sims from the original challenge as best as I could, but adapted them to keep them as "autonomous" as possible.

I have all the expansions and stuff packs, so feel free to do only what fits into what you already have in your game and/or adapt it as best you can.

When I saw the Stardew Valley map by @boringbones, I felt this would be a perfect match! You don't have to start on the same map as me, but I strongly suggest you start on a tiny or small mapto really have the proximity between the lots and, even better, if it's empty so you can populate it as you play with the Sims.

I'm just starting to play this challenge, so not all the rules have been tested. I will adapt as needed and welcome suggestions.

Tags: #TinyTownTS3 #tiny town challenge ts3 or tag my "@". I would love to know you're playing too. 😍

The Goal

The goal of this challenge is to build a town with tiny houses for up to 16 Sims (depending on whether you want to use mods or not or which packs you own) that match their desires and skills.

You can watch my gameplay of this challenge on my YouTube channel here. (link to be available soon)

The Stardew Valley map can be purchased here (link for download).

The Rundown

Each Sim has a set skill that you must utilize to fund the construction of their tiny home. For example, Frank Stem likes flower arranging, so you must sell flower arrangements to fund his Tiny House build.

You must also represent each Sim's favorite style and color in the build (see the Sim characters below). You can only work on one Sim's house at a time, moving each Sim in individually as you "unlock" them.

To "unlock" the next Sim, you must complete the previous Sim's home.

How to Play

Start by moving your first Sim into a lot of your choice.

To select your first Sim, you can use an online randomizer or simply choose your favorite.

After moving your first Sim in, use a money cheat to set the Sim's money to $0.

Each Sim should start on their lot with their skill item of choice and some useful items. They also start with a sleeping bag (requires Generations), a mini fridge, and an All-in-One Bathroom (requires Island Paradise, Into the Future, or Movie Stuff). Feel free to adjust these items if you don't have the necessary packs. After placing these items on the lot, set the money back to $0.

After finding your skill items, start earning Simoleons by selling your creations!

Use this money to build your Sim's tiny home!

Since we don't have a sales table in The Sims 3 like we do in The Sims 4, I suggest that all collectibles and creations be sold at the consignment store (requires: NRAAS Consigner - [link HERE]).

Extra Rules and Ideas

Your Sims can contribute to community areas to help other neighbors when they move in and to create a pleasant sense of community and lifestyle. Ideas could be a shared laundry, bathroom, BBQ area, garden, central square, pool, etc.

As you play, your town will grow and your community will become fuller. When you reach the last Sim, you can go back to playing with the first family, and here, my suggestion would be to put everyone in a rotational household using Story Progression and evolve with each family.

If you don't have all the necessary packs, feel free to alter the challenge to suit the packs you have, or use the base game features. There are many ways to make money, including tasks like collecting valuable objects or careers.

You can play on any lifespan, but I suggest playing on epic or disabling aging altogether to get the most out of your Sims.

According to the original rules, you can use cheats, rewards, and anything else to make it easier, but keep in mind that the easier you make it for yourself, the less challenging it will be!

The Tiny Town Sims

Azure Hue:

Skill - Painting (Base Game)

Decor Style - Contemporary/Boho

Color: Blue

Cyprus Handyman:

Skill - Sculpting (Ambitions)

Decor Style - Rustic/Farmhouse

Color: Orange

Frank Stem:

Skill - Flower Arranging/Gardening (Base Game)

Decor Style: Vintage/Garden/Farmhouse

Color: Green

Suggestion: If you want to go with Flower Arranging, I recommend this mod HERE.

Opal Gem:

Skill - Jewelry Making (Supernatural)

Decor Style: Victorian/Fairytale

Color: Purple

Annie Aperature:

Skill - Photography

Decor Style: Industrial/Minimalist

Color: Red

Beatrice Jam:

Skill - Cooking (Base Game)/Baking (Store Content)

Decor Style: Cozy

Color: Pink

Suggestions:

Cooking can be done through the Culinary career. Your world will need to have the Bistro lot or the Rabit Hole rug, which can be downloaded HERE.

Baking can be done with the Deliciously Indulgent Bakery. (requires: NRAAS Cupcake HERE)

Ziggy Yarn:

Skill - Knitting/Crocheting

Decor Style: Mid-Century Modern

Color: Yellow

Suggestion: If you want to make this Sim this way, you will need this mod HERE.

Pippin Playmaker:

Skill - Toy Making (Midnight Hollow)

Decor Style: Colorful and Eclectic. Think of a dream child's room, with furniture of different styles, vibrant colors, toys scattered on the floor, and walls decorated with drawings and posters of cartoon characters.

Color: Rainbow (use and abuse the color wheel)

Sophie Sauvignon:

Skill - Nectar Making (World Adventures)

Decor Style: Rustic and Provençal. Imagine a French country house, with worn wooden furniture, floral fabrics, soft pastel tones, and many elements that refer to nature, such as fresh flowers and wicker baskets.

Color: Burgundy

Morgana Spellbinder:

Skill - Alchemy (Supernatural)

Decor Style: Gothic and Mysterious. Think of an alchemy lab filled with old books, jars of colorful liquids, candles, mystical objects, and dark wood furniture with metal details.

Color: Dark Purple

Melody Harmony:

Skill: Music

Decor Style: Bohemian and Artistic. Think of a music studio with instruments, band posters, vinyl records, comfortable furniture, and vibrant colors.

Color: Sepia (Warm and soft brown)

Oliver Quill:

Skill - Writing

Decor Style: Dark Academia, Cozy. Imagine an office with a wooden desk, a bookshelf full of books, a comfortable armchair, a fireplace, and earthy tones.

Color: Coffee Brown

Newton Gears:

Skill - Inventor

Decor Style: Industrial and Technological. Think of a laboratory with tools, machine parts, wires, neon lights, computers, and metallic colors.

Color: Metallic Gray

Scarlett Zinger:

Skill - Fashion Stylist

Decor Style: Modern and Elegant. Imagine a fashion atelier with mannequins, fabrics, mirrors, designer furniture, and neutral colors with vibrant touches.

Color: Hot Pink

Ink Ryder:

Skill - Tattoo Artist

Decor Style: Urban and Alternative. Think of a tattoo studio with graffiti, urban art posters, metal furniture, dark colors, and neon lighting.

Color: Black. This color represents rebellion, individuality, and the art of tattooing.

Finn Fisherman:

Skill - Fisherman

Decor Style: Nautical and Cozy. Imagine a fisherman's cabin with nets, boats, shells, light wood furniture, shades of blue and white, and elements that refer to the sea.

Color: Ocean Blue. This color represents tranquility, serenity, and the beauty of the sea.

Final Note

Have fun! You can change and adapt the rules as needed. The goal here is to have a lot of fun with the best game ever! So feel free to explore everything a truly open world has to offer.

#TinyTownTS3 #desafiotinytownts3 #tiny town challenge #tiny town challenge ts3

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ticklish-n-stuff · 7 months ago

Text

Tickletober day #4: Hide and Seek

Also on ao3

______________________________________________________________

Aether x Albedo (interpret as you wish)

Lee: Aether

Ler: Albedo

Warnings: Tickles! I'm so normal ab Albedo

______________________________________________________________

Aether wasn’t sure how he had managed to get the ever stoic chief alchemist of the Knights of Favonius to play windtrace with him. Call it that traveler charm, and Albedo’s ever growing infatuation with him, but hey, anything to get that guy to loosen up.

Albedo was mainly known for his genius when it came to alchemy, and apparently his awful seeking skills, Aether thought to himself.

He couldn’t help but snicker behind a crate as he peaked over, observing a lost and frustrated Albedo. Deciding to play cheeky, the traveler exposed himself to the alchemist. Only to run out of sight when he was about to be caught. They kept up this cat and mouse chase, Albedo always being a handful too short of tagging the traveler. Aether wasn’t the (in)famous traveler for nothing.

If Albedo wanted to win, he needed to step up and fast. Determined to wipe that smug smirk off the traveler’s face, he flung himself towards the blonde. Sending them both tumbling across the ground, leaving a satisfied Albedo hovering over a mischievous traveler.

“Finally… I won this round” he said, as if he forgot all of his previous losses, the alchemist couldn’t help but smirk proudly. “Y’know, I think I deserve a reward after that stunt of yours”.

Before Aether could even ask what he meant, a high-pitched squeal forced its way out of his throat when he felt gloved fingers scribbling across his exposed stomach.

“Wahahait!! Not that! Albedo, plehehease!” his desperate pleading echoed in the open space, not doing him many favors as the alchemist’s smirk grew more smug. Making Aether’s cheeks flush at the sight.

“Heh, just as I thought. This smile suits you way better than that cocky one~” his fingers started squeezing and kneading the traveler’s hips like dough, sending him into further hysterics.

“Nahahahao! I’m sorry! Quit ihihit!” Aether whined like a toddler through his giggle fit, his hands ever so weakly grabbing at Albedo’s. Of course, the alchemist quickly picked up on the lack of force.

“I don’t know… something tells me that you’re enjoying yourself~” Albedo brought his tickly fingers back to the exposed belly, delicately circling his index finger around the blonde’s navel.

“Eep! Wahait! Not there! I’ll dihihie!” Aether’s expression grew nervous yet full of childlike giddiness. He really did a bad job at hiding his enjoyment.

Albedo couldn’t help but chuckle at his victim’s dramatics. If anything, it encouraged him to dip his finger into the little button, giving it a few playful swirls.

“heeEEYAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO—” Aether’s laughter grew silent. His hips desperately bucked in place before falling limp. His eyes were squeezed shut, started to glisten with small tears. Cheeks as ripe as apples, and that smile. That dazzling smile that has managed to capture the hearts of everyone in Teyvat, especially this alchemist.

After staring in awe for a bit longer did Albedo finally finish the ticklish torment. Watching as Aether took greedy breaths, that toned chest heaving with each one he took.

“You okay?” the alchemist couldn’t help but ask in such a soft tone, reaching over to brush back some of the messy strands of hair that got all tousled during the spectacle.

Aether nodded up at him with a bright smile, giving a thumbs up. Albedo could feel a genuine smile of his own forming. What a rollercoaster of events today was, but one thing was for certain. Albedo was so glad he agreed to tag along.

______________________________________________________________

#augtickletober2024 #genshin tickle fic #lee!aether #ler!albedo #genshin impact tickling #tickletober 2024 #aether #albedo

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sterekweek-2024 · 8 months ago

Text

Sterek Week 2024 FAQs

Event Information

About the page:

Sterek Week is a celebration of our beloved pairing Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale. It’s a week long event with daily themes meant to inspire fans to create and share their works!

The admins:

This year’s Sterek Week is brought to you by @boymeetswerewolf , @kcfriedchicken, and @halinski

How it works:

Every day has a theme. Works must be inspired by or related to the theme. All kinds of works are accepted (fanart, fanfiction, edits, graphics, playlists, moodboards, headcanons/plotbunnies whatever you can think of!)

It just has to be Sterek 😊

All works should use the corresponding day tags so we can find them. Post on the day of theme, with the correct tag, and it will be reblogged to Sterek Week '24.

We accept late entries, so if you are running behind still post it! We continue to check the previous tags throughout the week.

Sterek Week Timeline

August 25th: The Sterek Week admins finalize this years themes

September 1st: We share the themes with you!

September 1st - October 17th: The Sterek Week admins are hard at work on the tags, art, and daily posts for Sterek Week '24

October 18th: We share the daily tags and Sterek Week '24 tag with all of you

October 25th - October 31st: STEREK WEEK TAKES PLACE

Frequently Asked Questions

Is there a word limit or format for written pieces?

Nope! We accept all lengths of works and all different kinds of works, be it drabbles, ficlets, poems, one-shots, whatever you’re comfortable with!

What about artworks, or other mediums/playlists/moodboards/edits? Are there any formats/limitations?

We just want you to be creative! As long as it’s sterek in some way and fits within parameters of the themes and guidelines, create away and tag us!

What about NSFW works?

NSFW works are accepted, we just require them to be tagged accordingly and of course, they need to be posted according to Tumblr’s guidelines, as well as any other hosting site’s.

Can I talk about my work(s)?

Yes! As long as you don’t share it before the corresponding day.

How many works can I submit?

As many as you want! We’re ecstatic about every piece!

I’m not sure my work really fits a theme./It’s not necessarily perfect/as good as others. Can I still post it?

Please do! It’s the variety that does the trick. The sheer quantity of works in the fandom is what has made and kept us so strong! Just create!

Are AI works accepted?

Based on comments and requests from last years Sterek Week, AI works will not be accepted this year. Now that being said, there are only three of us and we are only human, sometimes we don't realize something is AI. We ask that no AI works are submitted, but if we find out later that they are, we will be removing them from the blog.

We ask that if you think something is AI, you politely message us and we can look into it. Please no hounding the artists directly as we have seen a lot of false accusations in the past. We can only count on people being upfront and honest and the fandom coming together as one.

Got anymore questions/doubts/troubles?

Send us an ask! We’re all in this together 😊

We’re super excited to see what everyone creates!

-Kiley (kcfriedchicken)

#sterekweek2024 #sterek #eternalsterek #faq

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steviewashere · 11 months ago

Note

hmmm i think for a prompt i will sayyy steve/eddie for not actually unrequited with steve scared of defining their relationship bexause he doesn’t want to be rejected but their friendship is super affectionate and closer than his previous friendships <3

Okay, finally getting around to doing some of the prompts in my inbox. But I gotta admit, I may not have gone the way that this was supposed to. It's still good, but I'm unsure. Thank you for the prompt!! <3

Tags: Getting Together, Love Confessions, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Mutual Pining, Yearning, Domestic, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Friends to Lovers, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Insecure Steve Harrington, First Kiss, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Hand Holding, Back of Hand Kisses (My Love)

💕—————💕 He brushes away a stray hair from Eddie’s face and wonders, not for the first time, when they got so close on the couch.

Steve knows that he’s doomed. There’s something in his relationship with Eddie that’s new, unspoken, treacherous. And he suspects that it started with the gentle touches. The way his fingers move over the frizz on Eddie’s curls and how he can map all the scars on their torsos. He’s aware of all the noises Eddie makes in his sleep and how their legs lock into each other under his comforter. He knows where Eddie is, based solely on the echoing steps his feet make. If they move soft, he’s in his socks, moving through the hallways to avoid waking Steve up.

There a lot of things he knows about Eddie, in fact.

Coffee with three teaspoons of sugar and a splash of milk. All laundry dried, except for his jeans; and he’s allergic to the Tide, but not Gain. He brushes his teeth with Arm & Hammer, flosses twice a day, and uses spearmint mouthwash only at night. Every Tuesday between 7pm-9pm, he allots time in his schedule just for campaign planning; he needs to be reminded to eat dinner on those days, so Steve always makes something and sits with him until he’s done. Sometimes they hold each other’s hands, a reminder, Steve supposes. Eddie enjoys pepperoni and olives on his pizza, and will gladly take Steve’s olives. He takes his eggs scrambled with cheese, but colby jack, not the Kraft American slices. Bees are his mortal enemy and just one sting would upend him in the hospital. His skin burns easy in the summer, so he applies double the sunscreen, and Steve has done this all before. He has freckles on his back, over his shoulders, up the sides of his neck, on his face. Steve likes to try and count them, but loses track the moment Eddie giggles or smiles.

When he comes over to watch a movie, he always slouches on the right cushion and lets Steve wrap around his left side. He prefers sci-fi over action, but action over romance, but romance over sad dramas. His favorite animals are cats and will adamantly refuse to watch or listen to anything involving that said animal dying. If silences stretch for too long, Eddie taps his fingers over the shapes of his rings, though never slides them off his fingers. He tapes his rings because they’re too big to fit naturally—they were hand-me-downs from his grandpa on his mom’s side, a last gift given before he passed. His mom smelt like Love’s Baby Soft, so when he’s having a particularly bad day, he sprays his pillows with an old bottle he kept. (It’s almost empty and Steve already bought a new one for when it runs out, he just has to have the gall to give it to him.)

Eddie runs cold. Eddie wears three layers all the time—at least. Eddie speaks softly when it’s just the two of them. Eddie always looks at him. Eddie listens to him. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

That’s all Steve’s brain is.

And he knows that it’s too much for them to just be friends. But that’s all they are.

He doesn’t want that to be the case, but when he gets the chance to open his mouth and finally say something, it’s like the words die half-way out of his chest. Because Eddie’s like him, in some ways, trying to find the right person, not finding that person, going out and trying again. He hooks-up with girls on the weekdays and goes out to seedy bars on the weekends. His collarbones are sometimes riddled with hickeys; when Steve chances a glance at him, when he’s shirtless and getting ready to share the bed, before he gets in the pool, when he’s a little too warm, when he wants Steve to apply the sunscreen, when he wants fingers tracing the edges of his scars—when he wants to talk about something that went wrong with the girl.

Like tonight.

Eddie’s on his couch. Hair in his face. Shirt off.

He leans too far into Steve’s side, even if it means nothing. He laughs and places a palm on the center of Steve’s back. He shoves his cheek against the side of Steve’s face and whispers hot and harsh on his ear, wet and warm and soothing, all too close—and Steve can smell him. Musk and sweat and Love’s Baby Soft and citrus and Irish Spring and a little like marijuana. He laughs again and stumbles into Steve’s side and places his head on the nook of his shoulder. He calls Steve sweetheart and squeezes his hand.

He always does, though. All of this. He always is this. Too much and too affectionate and too sweet and too ‘Steve’s type.’

Steve can’t take his eyes off of Eddie. Wondering, not for the first time, when he’ll just say what he needs to.

“I think you’re beautiful,” Steve wants to say, “I think you’re kind. I think you’d look good underneath me on my bed. I think I like when you wear my clothes whenever you stay over. I think I’d make you breakfast forever if it meant you’d sit at my table. I think I love you, Eddie. Eddie, god, I think I love you.”

They’re just friends, though. Nothing less.

Nothing more.

And Steve’s afraid of the nuance of this friendship he has. Is it better to never say a thing? Or should he rip the bandaid off and eventually plaster it over his broken heart the moment Eddie rejects him?

Because, as is, all Eddie talks about is girls. Girls with tattoos. Girls with nerd interests. Girls with wild makeup. Girls.

And Steve, noticeably, is not a girl.

He’s none of what Eddie is seeking. Nothing of what he wants. What he desires.

“I don’t know,” Eddie sighs, “she just isn’t the one.”

Steve grunts. “That makes no sense,” he softly exclaims, elbowing Eddie. Washing in the hiss and smirk that Eddie gives him. He’d bathe in whatever Eddie handed to him, if only to have him here, like this, all the time. “It just…You say she’s perfect under you. You say she’s funny and sweet and beautiful. You say all these nice things about this girl, but she isn’t the one? None of that makes sense to me, Eds.”

Eddie’s gaze on him shifts then, something more distant and pained. His fingers splayed over Steve’s thighs, they flex and flatten and tickle. He twists his mouth. And swallows hard, enough to flex the muscles of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I did,” he murmurs. Then, he leans in further. Further, somehow, always further.

And something in Steve wilts. Because, “This isn’t fair.”

“What?” Eddie mutters, brows furrowing. “What’s not fair, Stevie?” He blinks and Steve’s immediately in a daze. His eyelashes are long and dark and creating soft shadow under his eyes. His cheeks are flushed with rosacea pink blush. And has an overwhelming amount of sweet, sugary softness in his stare—enough that Steve’s stomach stirs nauseously.

“This,” Steve whispers. He wrenches his hand away from where it, on an automatic shift, went to trace Eddie’s scars—especially the one closest to him, a wide and silvery one over his left ribs. The one that’s smooth under Steve’s touch.

Nervously, Eddie chuckles. His hand instinctively tightens over Steve’s leg. “Sweetheart, I don’t—“

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Steve exclaims, finally jumping apart. He stands shakily from his couch and faces where he sat, towering over Eddie’s stupidly big, soft eyes and his gentle scowl and the flush of his pale skin. His shadow draws his attention towards the highlights over Eddie, the light yellow on his irises and the glint of scars and that shiny silver of his decade old rings. “This thing you’re doing. The—The—Flirting!”

“Flirting?” Eddie innocently asks. He blinks again, owlishly this time.

“Yes, Eddie! Flirting! You do it all the time…You—You always call me sweetheart and you’re always touching me and…” But he takes in Eddie’s face again. How pretty he is. How stupidly endearing every aspect of him is. And he—

God, Steve can’t do this. He can’t ruin this.

“…Never mind,” he mutters, “don’t worry about it.” And he sits back down. A noticeable gap between them.

“Steve?”

He shakes his head. But otherwise remains silent.

“Steve,” Eddie calls again, softly. So small that it could’ve been lost inside the couch cushions. “Do you not like when I do those things?”

“I like them,” Steve can at least admit. “I don’t mind.”

But Eddie doesn’t touch him again. He looks away, Steve can sense it, even with his own eyes facing forward. His t-shirt is put back on, Steve can see every movement Eddie makes and knows exactly what part of his body he’s using and what exactly he’s doing.

And then they’re just silent.

Maybe he’s already ruined it. He always knew that everything would fall through the moment he admitted anything. The moment he made some sort of realization. And it’s not like the crush was unprecedented. It was slow. Small things, at first. Other things, when time gave way to them. He catalogued everything. And he knew, the moment he learned to touch Eddie where it mattered most—over his scalp and the scars and down the slope of his nose—he was already falling in love.

Of course he’s in love with one of his best friends.

He’s always in love with a best friend. Always somebody that becomes unattainable. First, it was Tommy and then Tommy started dating Carol. Then, it was Nancy and they were great, but then she wanted Jonathan. After, it was Robin and he’s fine with not having Robin in that way, thank god not in that way. He should’ve seen it coming when Eddie stuck around.

He should’ve known. Why didn’t he know?

But if he spoke, Eddie would find a reason to not love him back. That was the scary part. Tommy—he couldn’t see it. Nancy—she never loved him, not really. Robin—well, that one goes left unsaid. What would Eddie find? Would he realize how clingy Steve is? Would he become embarrassed by Steve’s romance movie type of love: drive-in dates and sweet kisses on the lips and slow embraces that lasted forever? Would he come to terms with having nothing in common, despite having everything to talk about as friends? Would he get bored? Would he just…fizzle out?

Steve can imagine it all. Becoming boring. Becoming uninteresting. Becoming unlovable.

Not being desirable.

That’s all he wants. To be desired the way he desires. All too much. All at once. Like flames engulfing the world. He wants and he wants and he wants.

But if he spoke, he’d have to continue wanting—though from an arm’s length. Because Eddie would leave, probably. Turn him down. Realize the truth about Steve Harrington.

The boy everybody wants, but nobody loves.

He’d still want Eddie, though, even if he realized.

“I didn’t know—“

“Eddie,” Steve murmurs, “you don’t have to…Don’t do this with me. Just ignore it. Please, Eds, just ignore it.”

Gentle fingers on the back of his hand. Pushing the skin upward, towards his knuckles. “And if I didn’t want to ignore it?” Eddie asks. So soft. So small.

Steve blinks, his eyes wet and his throat burning. “Don’t—“ He takes a shuttering breath as Eddie’s palm wraps around his whole hand. “Eddie, please,” he pleads, “don’t do this if you don’t mean it.”

Eddie’s hand flexes, squeezing. “Steve,” he murmurs, “look at me?”

Hesitantly, and oh so slowly, Steve makes his head move. He catches Eddie’s eyes, the first thing he always notices when they’re together, and melts. They’re like voids, pulling Steve in. A warm void, though. A hot bath. He raises their joined hands to his lips. They’re a little dry, soft and warm over Steve’s skin.

“I want to mean it,” Eddie quietly confesses.

“But,” Steve mutters, “but what about all those girls?”

“They’re not the one,” Eddie says, “they’re not you.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Eddie gazes at him now. The way love interests do in all the movies Steve’s ever loved. With a softness like that of cat backs, the ones Eddie likes. With warmth like that of Eddie’s dried laundry. With sweetness like that of Eddie’s morning coffee. His lips are pressed into the back of Steve’s hand again.

“They’re not you,” Eddie reiterates. “They aren’t sweet to me, they aren’t gentle or funny in those silent ways you are. And they aren’t handsome with your good hair. Or warm against me. I’m with them and all I can think about is coming back to you, talking to you, holding you, laying next to you. All I think about is you.”

Steve raises his free hand to the right side of Eddie’s face. Cups his cheek, runs his thumb over his cheekbone, tangles his fingers in the hair above his ear. “You’re all I think about, too,” Steve admits. “Even when I’m hanging out with you, I’m still thinking about you.” He smiles back at the received soft one Eddie has. His dimples have never looked this good. And his mouth is plenty kissable. His face is warm and pink under Steve’s hand.

So he leans in, slowly, enough for everything to be taken back. For him to wake up from this possible dream. And when there’s nothing left to do but lean forward that extra millimeter, Steve kisses him.

Eddie tastes like pepperonis and olives and spearmint. He’s focused completely, kissing back with enough force to make Steve nearly fall backwards. His lips move as if devouring. Steve hopes he tastes just as good.

“I love you,” Eddie confesses first. “I’ve loved you for…a fucking long time.”

Steve, the hopelessly hopeful romantic that he is, melts. “I love you, too,” he breathes.

“Boyfriends?” Eddie asks, smirking, but not teasing.

He nods. “Yeah, Eds. Wanna be your boyfriend.” Something more. God, they're something more.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #unrequited love #not actually unrequited #angst and hurt/comfort #getting together

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