#and for not turning out to be what they thought it would when they didn't even think at all because it was all a bit a hive mind thing
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Bucky who starts a purely platonic physical touch giving friendship with reader… until it turns into more
・゚✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 。✭・゚
It starts off so innocently. Bucky just sat really close to you one day and noticed how the touch of your shoulder on his made him tingly all over.
The same happened when your hand brushed his, or you passed close by, and he caught a whiff of your hair - something that reminds him of the feeling he now seeks out when you’re around.
It’s no secret that either of you have been single a long time with basically no prospects for a future relationship, so no one questions when you and him suddenly hang out more.
He invites you over when you ask him if he was okay, and he realized that his day was in fact crappy and that if you offered to talk to him, he’d tell you all about it.
And when you sit on the sofa listening to Bucky talk, your hand instinctively found his and before Bucky knew it, his head was pressed into your shoulder, your nails raking over his scalp releasing a feeling within him, he can only describe as heavenly.
He loves it when you comfort him, and he loves comforting you, somehow knowing that you need this part of your friendship just as much as he does.
So it becomes a regular thing: when the rest of the team returns home to their spouses after a tiring mission, you and Bucky retreat to either one of your apartments under the pretense of not wanting to be alone.
Of course, neither of you planned for it to become so touchy and intimate... no, that would be insane, right?
It’s a normal afternoon for the two of you, hanging out at your place, a movie playing on TV, Bucky’s head buried in your chest as he lays half on top of you and you with your back against the sofa. Your hand rakes over his hair as his are halfway tugged beneath your body, seeking all the warmth he can get.
The physical touch aspect of your relationship has somehow crossed the lines between friends, but neither of you care. It feels too good to be held and protected to stop.
Bucky hasn't felt the caring touch of a partner in decades and you... well, let's just say that all men before Bucky didn't feel the need to express their love through aftercare - not that Bucky is in any way shape or form about to give said aftercare... no, you are just friends. Just. Friends.
Friends who frequently hide their hands in the other's jacket when the cold catches up to them.
Friends who bury their faces in each other's chest and lap like it is the most normal thing a person can do to another.
Friends who somehow always wonder if the other feels that spark ignite whenever they hold each other close.
Bucky feels the sensation when he's practically caging you beneath his upper body of the sofa. He lifts his head as he usually does to see if maybe this time he could magically hear your thoughts.
"What's up?"
He shakes his head. "I just really enjoy this." he mumbles and blushes, and your hand suddenly stops its path along his scalp.
"Me too." you smile and look into his eyes.
normally he'd put his head back, and you'd resume watching the movie, but something is different today.
maybe it's the way his hair looks perfectly tousled by your constant motions, or maybe it's the way he slowly blinks at you like a very comfortable pet.
but you finally find the courage to kiss him.
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#m shorts#bucky barnes headcanon#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#bucky imagine#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x you#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes au#the winter soldier x you#winter soldier x reader#captain america winter soldier#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan imagine#james bucky barnes
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DIDN'T GIVE UP 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie!reader
summary; after getting out of rehab, rafe is desperate to be intimate with you, so it feels like his whole world falls apart when he’s unable to arouse himself. but with plenty of commitment and a promise not to give up, he finally manages to succeed, even if it’s not in the way that you’d both wished for
content; talk of addiction and rehab, brief mention of overdose, erectile dysfunction, masturbation, brief handjob
author's note; inspired by a few conversations had over on @starfxkrinc about post rehab rafe. I'm super happy with how this one turned out, I really love exploring these sides of rafe
you hold rafe’s hand as you both walk inside. tonight has been so special, your first date since rafe got out of rehab. it had been intimate and quiet and comfortable. a lovely meal at the local gourmet restaurant filled with gentle loving touches had left you both wanting more, a more that neither of you had had for a while.
even before rehab, rafe had just stopped having sex with you. you’d thought you might get somewhere but then the od happened and he’d needed to go to rehab which meant you didn’t even see him for months.
you’re both so touch starved, no words need to be spoken before you’re both making your way up to the bedroom, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, quickly and desperately.
“god— missed you so much,” he murmurs, hands on your hips as he backs through the bedroom door, turning and kicking it shut like he always used to when you first started sneaking around together.
you moan softly “me too. missed you rafe.” one of your hands wraps around his neck and the other comes down to palm at him through his pants, his bulge is noticeable but he’s not hard yet. you undo his zipper and touch him through his boxers.
you both move back towards the bed and you pull his dick out, taking it in your hand and starting to jerk him off, but you both notice something. that something being nothing, nothing is happening. his dick isn’t doing anything.
rafe frowns and you do the same, both of you look down as your hand keeps moving for no reaction. after about thirty seconds rafe steps away, “shit I– I didn’t know that would happen.” he rubs the back of his neck, “shit… shit.”
you step forward and place a hand on his arm, “oh rafe… hey I’m sure its normal.. you did just get outta rehab,” you try to pull him to look at you but he doesn’t, he stares straight at the floor and shrugs you off.
“no… I.. this happens when I’m high not– I’ve been sober for two months.” he exaggerates, you can hear his voice beginning to break. you had considered that this might be an obstacle but you weren’t expecting him to react like this, surely all it’s going to take is a bit of trial and error until he can get it up with as much ease as he used to.
though you suppose this must be hard for him. finally getting some normality back and he can’t even properly enjoy it. and you know how much he hates to feel emasculated. maybe it is a big deal for him. even though it’s not guaranteed to happen yet, the imminent possibility must have shocked him into a panic.
that’s fine, you’ve dealt with rafe under much more serious circumstances.
you step forward, more confident now that you have an idea of what the problem is and how you can solve it. “rafe, sweetie don’t panic,” you speak gently, “we’re gonna sort this out okay?”
rafe looks down at you, “sorry– sorry I’m.. just wasn’t expectin’ it..” he scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his uncovered self. you nod, understanding his distress.
“that’s okay, it was a surprise huh?” you stroke his arm gently, “you wanna try again?” you ask gently and he nods shakily, taking a calming breath before letting you guide him to the bed. he sits down first and then you climb on after him, straddling his lap and quickly managing to retain the mood you were in before.
you grind down a little and his hands come to your hips to help your movements like he normally would but he’s quickly letting out an agitated noise and pushing you off. “it’s not working,” he groans in frustration.
you pull yourself up to sit next to him. your hand comes to his chest, “oh baby,” you coo as you notice the tears welling in his eyes that he’s so obviously trying to hold back. in his mind not being able to get aroused is bad enough, crying would just make him pathetic.
“what do you wanna do huh?” you pry, stroking his chest now and coming up to kiss his shoulder. “I’m sure that there are things we can try… it’s only been a couple of minutes.” you try to reassure him but you’re pretty sure he’s going to be inconsolable until he can feel confident in himself again. in his mind, a couple of minutes should mean you’re already halfway through round two.
“I– I don’t understand,” he sniffles pitifully, not daring to make eye contact with you as he instead stares down at his completely motionless dick. “this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.. I- I got sober.”
you kiss him again, “you did baby, you got sober,” you smile sympathetically, “and this is normal, its normal to have erectile dysfunction after stuff like this.” though that reassurance sets him off more.
“don’t– don’t call it that,” he snaps ever so slightly, shoulders tensing and momentarily shrugging your hand away, “I don’t– I can’t have a dysfunction, okay it’s– it’s gotta work.” his voice breaks just a little.
you nod, “okay… okay then we’ll make it work, okay?” you move your body so that you can look him in the eyes, you bring your hand up to cup his face. “you just tell me what you need, okay? we can do whatever you want, whatevers gonna help you.”
he thinks for a moment, you can see the cogs in his brain turning behind his eyes as he tries to find something that he thinks may help him. his lips are parted and his cheeks are slightly pink. he eventually seems to come to a conclusion, he hesitates for a moment before speaking tentatively, “can uh.. can I try doin’ it myself?”
you nod, “yeah, course baby.” you smile, proud of him for being able to articulate his need, “where do you want me? should I give you some privacy or–”
rafe shakes his head, “can you stay,” he asks, “please… just.. I really need you to be here.” he tries to avert his eyes, he’s embarrassed, you can tell, he reeks of humiliation and you wish that you could just take it away from him. after all that he’s been through in the past few months you feel this is the last thing he deserves.
“I’ll stay here,” you affirm, “I’ll stay here as long as you need okay? you just do whatever you need to do.” you move with him as his hand comes to grasp yours whilst the other supports him while he shakily manoeuvres himself to half sit half lay against the headboard.
you stay on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of his hand as that is evidently what he wants you to do. his chest rises and falls slowly as he pushes his pants further down and then gently grasps his soft dick.
he begins to move tentatively, doing his best to throw his head back and not think about it. you stay quiet, just letting him figure it out for himself.
he manages to get it up, a little, you notice a look of clear relief on his face as he relishes in the sensation he’d worried that he wouldn’t get back. his movement quickens and then his face falls as he loses it.
you stroke his thumb with your own, “it’s okay baby, just take your time.” you murmur softly as his face scrunches up in annoyance. but he perseveres, hand going back down to try once again.
he tries, he really tries. he tries so many times, over and over again, and to both of your increasing dismay he keeps losing it over and over again too.
poor rafe, tears slip down his cheeks and he groans from sadness and surely a little pain at the fact that he’s basically rubbed himself raw down there. his tip is pink and angry, you have half a mind to tell him to stop but you fear he may hurt himself more if he can’t manage or stop on his own terms.
he huffs sadly. he knows he needs to stop too, “just– just one more try.” he says, “one more.” he nods decisively before looking up to you, almost as if to ask for your blessing to just try one more time.
of course you nod, “yeah, one more time. you’ve got this rafe,” you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly with a loving smile, hoping to encourage him to finally get it.
rafe starts again, slowly at first and then he builds up his movements, it takes a long few minutes but he manages to get himself hard, fully hard. he grunts and groans and you have to stop yourself from slipping a hand under your own underwear so as not to distract him from his moment.
after another long few minutes he practically cries out, then whimpers and then tears of relief fall down his cheeks as he finally cums. it’s not a lot, and it doesn’t last long, but it does him good. the feeling simply overwhelms him and he finally feels reassured that he can be normal again.
once he’s ridden it out you wipe the tears from his cheek with your free hand, “hey.” you smile down at him, “well done, you did so good.” you speak gently, “I’m so proud of you, you didn’t give up.”
rafe smiles, his previous humiliation replaced with pure bliss and relief, “yeah,” he nods, sighing breaths of relief, “didn’t give up.” maybe this evening didn’t go exactly as expected, but you think, with the circumstances, it turned out okay.
#rafe cameron prompt#sweetie!reader#cw addiction#rafe cameron concept#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron
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touchy subject II pairing: reader x exfiancé!rafe synopsis: seeing your ex-fiancé after four years. warnings: heavy angst. some fluff. miscarriage/stillbirth. vehicular accident. wc: 2k part 2 of touchy subject. part 3 / the final part coming soon. click here for part 1
you could feel your heartbeat in your throat, raw with unshed tears, the vision of your ex-fiancé with another woman blurred by nothing but the tears brimming at the edges of your vision, so different from the ones that ran down your cheeks the day you'd said yes to him.
"of course i'll marry you." you pulled rafe to stand up, your arms around him before you could even think about what you were doing, rafe letting out a sigh of relief. "wait, wait, i gotta ask you something." you rushed out, pulling away from the hug, his hands still staying on your waist.
"what is it?"
"is this just because i'm pregnant?" you ask, rafe's brows furrowing in confusion, yet you left him no time to respond, "it's just- i want to marry you, but i don't want you to feel like you have to ask me just because i'm pregnant, and if you want to wait until the baby's-"
you could feel how tired rafe was getting of your rant by the intensity of his lips on yours, using it to interrupt you, his fingers sliding under your jaw to help hold it up to meet his; and just like always, he didn't need to say one word for you to understand what he was communicating to you.
the moment his eyes found yours, it felt as if all the air was punched out of your lungs, like the entire planet just stopped spinning. it didn't matter that the jewelry store's display was separating you; it felt like the first time he looked into your eyes and told you he loved you.
you wanted to run, to make sure you wouldn't have to face him, to have to hear what his voice sounded when you'd already managed to forget how it was to hear it in person, but it was like your feet had rooted to the ground within the few seconds that he spotted you.
and you begged to whatever entity that once you saw him approach the exit to the jewelry store, the other woman long forgotten, that your fight-or-flight instinct would kick in, but luck was never really on your side, because there he stood, his face the same as the last time you saw him, with a few lines added here and there, and a part of you couldn't help but ache at the thought of having missed the moment they appeared.
you looked up at him, into the same eyes you'd once imagined your daughter would have, the thought making the bout of nausea in your throat even worse. a part of you wanted to congratulate him, to tell you that you were happy for him, but it felt like the words were choking you, like they were burning in your throat. but the choice to even say something was taken from you, when you heard the bell above the door to the jewelry store let out a cheery ring.
"rafe…?" the red-haired woman called out, her brows furrowed in question, and the moment your ex turned around to face her, you took the opportunity to turn the other way, begging that your feet would take you away before you threw up on the spot.
"i saw him yesterday."
"it was the first time you saw him in person since you left, correct?"
"yes. i sometimes checked up on his social media, but seeing him like this... so close to me i could touch him... it was pretty jarring. it felt like no time had passed, but also like i hadn't seen him in decades."
"and how did he look?"
"handsome." you chuckled softly, your hand going to fiddle with the locket around your neck, sliding it up and down the golden chain, avoiding looking at the zoom meeting displayed on the laptop screen. "he looked just like he looked with me. he looked happy."
"happy anniversary, rafe." you smiled softly as you pushed the gift box at him, your fiancé letting out a small tut.
"you know you didn't have to get me anything, right? you're enough for me already. both of you are."
"yeah, yeah, stop being all cheesy and chivalrous and open it already." you urged, watching as he lifted the lid of the gift box, his eyes widening as he looked down at the present, but before he could say anything, you stopped him, "look at the back of it!"
rafe rolled his eyes, picking up the steel watch from the box, and you could see his gaze soften the moment his eyes spotted the engraving on the back of the watch, the edges of his lips almost automatically twisting up at the words 'evelyn cameron'.
"is it bad that it makes me feel bitter?" you asked, chewing at the inside of your cheek, "that it's been four years, and i haven't been able to move on, but he has? that he's managed to be happy, but i haven't? that i don't know if i ever will?"
"the loss of a child..."
you couldn't help but tune out the words of your therapist like they were nothing but background noise, not knowing if it would be worse if she tried justifying your anger or if she tried to get you to understand why rafe had managed to move on, your eyes instead focusing on the heart-shaped locket you'd opened, the faces of the couple staring right at you.
"rafe, where are we?" you laughed softly, your feet hurting from the heels you were starting to regret wearing, the blonde having parked his car in front of a random house.
"you didn't think i wouldn't get you an anniversary present, did you?" when you didn't immediately answer, he pressed his hand to his chest in mock offense, shaking his head, "come on. lemme show you."
the two of you got out of the car, your heels clacking against the stone pathway leading to the house, rafe's muscular arm keeping you close to him, helping you walk.
when you got to the door, he let go of you, and you watched as he took out a set of keys without saying anything, twisting them in the lock and pushing open the door, looking to you enthusiastically, extending his hand to you.
the moment you stepped over the threshold, you were enveloped by warmth, rafe flicking on the light next to the entryway before turning to you as your eyes got used to the light, sliding his hands onto your waist, pulling you as close to him as the growing child allowed.
you looked into his eyes, yours filled with confusion while his were filled with nothing but sincerity, his thumb stroking your waist. "rafe, what's this?"
"it's our home." he said, bringing his hand to your bump, "i know it's not much, but it's got enough room for our family."
"rafe, this is-"
"this is my anniversary present for you. i won't take 'no' for an answer." he brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek, tugging it behind your ear, "i want us to build our own home. our own life."
you kicked the radiator in frustration; it seemed like no matter what, the place wouldn't warm up. you'd called a maintenance guy, but they told you that it'd take at least a week for them to get someone there, and in the middle of winter, your only option was to light the fireplace in the middle of the living room while you waited for your mom to arrive with a portable radiator she told you she'd borrow you.
you sat in front of the blazing fire, your fingers fiddling with the frayed edges of the worn-out ultrasound picture you'd looked at a million times, your voice coming out weak from the sobs you were holding in your throat.
"hi, evie." you said softly, looking to the small urn next to you, engraved with the name of your daughter as well as today's date, only five years before. "happy... happy birthday."
"hi, baby." rafe's voice called out from the speakerphone of your car, the windshield wipers wiping away some of the rain falling down on you as you drove through the dark streets lit only by the yellow streetlights above, "are you almost home?"
"i am." you chuckled softly, "seeing my mom was so nice, even though she kept being all cheesy about how big i'd gotten. i swear, she almost cried."
"come on, she's gonna meet her grandkid in a month, of course she's gonna be all cheesy. if my dad had a paternal bone in his body, i'm sure he'd be ecstatic."
"yeah, well, you're not the one whose stomach is constantly getting pawed by people." you let out a snort, looking out into the road, "listen, i'm gonna drop by the store cause little evie's craving chocolate, do we need anything?"
"nah, just need you two home as soon as possible."
"aye aye, captain. see you soon, baby." you laughed, hearing the noise that signaled that the call had been ended, eager to get home and off your feet.
but before you could even realize what was happening, you were faced with a second pair of headlights that was approaching you, another car lit up by your own yellow headlights. and you swerved.
maybe it's a part of the so-called mother's instinct to blame ourselves when something happens to our child. no matter how many people told you that it wasn't your fault, that there was nothing you could've done, every bone, every cell in your body couldn't help but beat yourself up over what happened.
rafe ran down the hospital hallway, the smell of disinfectant mixed with the feeling of his heartbeat in his ears making him feel nauseous, the man sure that it was beating 200/bpm, but finally, when he reached the hospital room the reception had guided him to, a sense of relief took over him.
a nurse walked out of the room, startled by the man, her eyes widening at the obvious sense of urgency he was displaying, "can i help you?" she asked.
"no, no, i'm just here to see my fiancé." rafe said, his hand going for the door, only to be blocked by the nurse.
"i'm sorry, but the patient has told us that she doesn't want any visitors."
"what?" rafe let out a dry, humorless laugh, his brows furrowed, "you have to let me see her, that's my fiancé. that's- that's the mother of my child."
"i'm sorry, but the patient-"
"hey!" rafe pounded the palm of his hand on the door, the hospital bed visible from the rectangle of glass on the door, the man able to see your mother hunched over your bed, holding you. "let me-"
"sir, if you don't calm down, i'm going to have to call the guards and they'll remove you from the premises."
"that's my fiancé!" rafe shouted as the nurse pushed him further from the door, "i have to go see her! you have to let me see her! just tell her that i'm here, she'll want-"
the door to your hospital room swung open, rafe meeting the crestfallen eyes of your mother, her lips pulled into a straight line. "rafe, she doesn't want to see you."
when you heard the doorbell ring, you wiped away the tears that had ran down your cheeks; you didn't want to make it obvious to your mother that you'd spent the last fifteen minutes crying, and even if she could tell by the redness of your eyes, you knew she wouldn't mention it.
you pushed yourself off the ground, placing the small urn and the ultrasound picture on top of the fireplace as you straightened out your sweater, your feet cold against the hardwood floor as you walked to the front door.
but when you pulled it open expecting to see your mother, it felt like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs, like your heartbeat shot through the roof just from the sight of his downcast eyes.
"rafe."
#rafe cameron#outer banks#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#outer banks fanfiction#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron obx#outer banks fic#outer banks rafe#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fic
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☁︎ . , BETTER THAN HIM? , P.SH & S.JY 18+
PAIRING: bf ! sunghoon × afab reader × bf’s best friend jake. SYNOPSIS: you didn't know how you ended up in this situation with your boyfriend and his best friend, maybe they planned it... maybe they didn't.. but you didn't mind it now. GENRE: basically a threesome short drabble, started with jake commenting how y/n would prefer his cock better. WARNING(S): NSFW, MDNI, unprotected sex, fingering, blowjob, jealousy, nipple play, licking precum, creampie, the reader has consented to!! WORD COUNT: 1.4k [LIBRARY]
The wet sound of Jake’s fingers sliding in and out of your slick cunt fills the room, mixing with your muffled whimpers. Your thighs tremble, tightening around his wrist as he pushes you closer to the edge. The sheets beneath you are soaked with your essence, the heavy scent of sex hanging in the air.
Jake’s smug smile grows wider, his fingers shining with your arousal as he raises them for Sunghoon to see. “Damn, she's really soaked,” he mocks, his tone oozing confidence. “Is she always this wet... even with you, Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon’s jaw tightens, his hands clenching into fists, knuckles white from the effort to hold back. The desire to wipe that irritating grin off Jake's face, to make him pay for touching what belongs to him, is nearly unbearable. Of course he doesn't want this. Of course you're not usually this wet. This eager, this desperate for anyone's touch but his. Not with him. Never with him.
So why now? Why with Jake? The question eats away at him, shaking his confidence. Is Jake just better, more experienced? Does he know something Sunghoon doesn’t? The thought makes him feel sick.
You lie there, lost and overwhelmed, your mind spinning. You can’t grasp why Sunghoon brought Jake here, into your bedroom. Into your bed. You bite down hard on your lower lip, trying to stifle the moans that threaten to escape as Jake adds a second finger.
A single tear slips down your cheek, and Sunghoon is immediately at your side. He gently wipes it away, leaning in close. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “You can let go. Feel it. React.”
Sunghoon’s teeth grazes your sensitive nipple, sending jolts of painful pleasure through your body. He suckles roughly, tugging and twisting the other peak between his fingers. It's a stark contrast to the gentle, worshipful way he usually touches you when it's just the two of you. It feels like he's trying to mark you, claim you, and assert his territory against Jake’s bold advances.
The dual sensations of Sunghoon’s mouth on your breast and Jake's fingers pumping in your dripping cunt are almost overwhelming. You arch off the bed, a long, keening moan escaping your lips. But neither Sunghoon nor Jake lets up, working you from both ends with relentless focus.
“Can I put it in?” Jake asks Sunghoon, his voice low and rough with lust. Sunghoon just shrugs, deflecting the question.
“Don't ask me, ask her. It's her body.”
Jake turns to you, his eyes dark with desire. You bite your lip, torn between the conflicting feelings of shame and arousal. You glance at Sunghoon uncertainly, but he's busy biting and sucking at your tits, your fingers tangled in his hair. The sharp sting of pain mingles with the pleasure, making you gasp.
You hesitate, giving a small nod, unsure if you can trust your voice. Jake flashes a grin, quickly pulling down his boxers and positioning himself at your entrance. You're so wet and ready that he slides in with hardly any resistance, stretching you around his thick length.
“Wow, this feels amazing,” Jake groans, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. “I can't believe you’ve been enjoying this for so long. What a lucky guy.”
You let out a whimper as he begins to move, each thrust dragging his cock along your sensitive walls. It’s not that Jake is necessarily bigger than Sunghoon, but he’s in great shape, his muscles flexing as he drives his hips.
Your mind spins as Jake and Sunghoon work together, their cocks stretching you to the limit from both ends. One thick shaft pistons in and out of your dripping cunt, while the other fills your mouth, muffling your desperate whimpers. It’s almost overwhelming, the fullness, the wet sounds of their coupling.
Sunghoon grips your hair, guiding your head as he thrusts gently between your lips. “That’s it, baby” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “Such a good girl, taking both of us like a champ.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, and tears begin to leak from the corners of your eyes. The salty taste of pre-cum coats your tongue as you swirl it around Sunghoon's length, hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper.
Jake sets a relentless pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. The lewd squelch of your sopping wet pussy being pounded fills the room, mixing with the sound of your wet gagging.
It's filthy and degrading, everything you never knew you craved. The taboo thrill of being used like this, sandwiched between two hard, pulsing cocks, sends you hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly quickly.
Your inner walls flutter and clench around Jake's thrusting shaft as your orgasm crashes over you. You moan around Sunghoon's cock, the vibrations making him groan and tighten his grip on your hair.
“She came too soon...” Jake chuckles breathlessly, his thrusts never faltering. “Guess we know who the real stud is, huh Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon's jaw clenches, his ego bruised by the implication. He bucks his hips, driving his cock deeper down your throat until you gag and splutter.
Sensing Jake about to cum. Sunghoon yanks his throbbing cock out of your mouth, his face twisted in a scowl as he roughly shoves Jake away from you. “Told you not to cum inside her,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous. “Only I get to do that.”
Jake holds his hands up in surrender, nodding quickly. “Understood, man. My bad.” He steps back, giving you both some space as he watches Sunghoon line up his cock and plunge into your dripping cunt.
You moan wantonly as your boyfriend's familiar length stretches you open, your tongue darting out to lap up the glistening strands of pre-cum that dribble down your chin. The taste is intoxicating, salty and musky, and you can't help but crave more.
Sunghoon grips your hips tightly, setting a punishing pace as he pounds into you. The wet, obscene slap of skin on skin fills the room, intermingling with your desperate whimpers and moans. “Better?” he pants, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
“Mmm... you always feel better than anyone...” you murmur breathlessly, and it's not even a lie. No matter how good Jake felt stretching you open, nothing compares to the way Sunghoon fills you up, hitting all the right spots with each powerful thrust.
Sunghoon's eyes darken with desire at your words, his hips thrusting forward with renewed intensity. “Yeah? You really mean that, baby?” he breathes, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.
Your response is lost in a moan as he drives into you particularly deep, his pelvis grinding against your sensitive clit. The added stimulation sends you spiraling over the edge once more, your inner walls tightening around Hoon’s thrusting cock.
“Fuck, I'm gonna... gonna...” He groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his own climax. With a final, guttural moan, he buries himself deep inside you.
You watch through half-lidded eyes as his hips stutter and jerk, his cock pulsing within your fluttering walls as he reaches his peak. Thick ropes of cum fill you, marking you as his, claiming you in the most primal way. The sensation of his warm seed filling you sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, prolonging your own orgasm until you're both left breathless and panting.
As Sunghoon collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, you catch a glimpse of Jake from the corner of your eye. He's standing there, his hand wrapped around his own impressive length, stroking himself with a look of pure fascination on his face.
“Wow, that was something else,” Sunghoon whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your sweaty forehead. “You were amazing, babe.” You can only nod faintly, too exhausted to speak. Your body feels like jelly, every muscle relaxed as the aftershocks of pleasure wash over you. His softening member slips out of you with a wet sound, a small trickle of his release following behind.
Jake clears his throat, breaking the moment. “Well, uh... I guess that answers it. You definitely prefer Sunghoon’s cock,” he says with a light laugh, though his tone is more impressed than teasing.
Sunghoon smirks, rolling off you to lie beside you on the bed. “You know it. What did I say?" He reaches out to give your ass a possessive squeeze, causing you to squeak in surprise.
© senascoop | tumblr
#𝒮ena’s 𝒲orks ☁︎#enhypen#enhypen reactions#enhypen imagines#enhypen × reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen headcanons#enhypen smut#enha imagines#enhypen x you#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen jake#enhypen hyung line#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#kpop smut#kpop imagines#sunghoon#sunghoon x you#jake x reader#kpop hard hours#kpop hard thoughts#jake smut#sunghoon smut#kpop scenarios#enhypen drabbles#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#enhypen links#enhypen fanfiction
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Arcane imagine.
arcane characters react to you confessing your feelings to them.
characters included: Mel medarda, Caitlyn, vi, jinx, sevika
warnings: mutual pinning, yearning, fluff, slight angst, happy ending, implied smut, flirting, kissing, yeah .
Mel medarda;
You've been crushing on Mel for the longest time, you don't even know when it started, as you two have known each other for a while now, you both were kinda friends, you were never really sure, but you always felt so close to her
She had felt the same, she liked sticking by your side, hearing about your day, your projects, what you are thinking, anything, she loved listening to you talk
It was the one thing that made her day better, and seeing your face of course
It happened so suddenly, these feelings you'd never expect just came to you, Mel was just there, and you fell in love
Not that anyone could blame you, really, she's a goddess
you always wondered why on earth she'd spend time with you, someone so beautiful, so perfect, that you can't help but always admire, no matter the time and place
When you're anxious, you think of Mel, she makes everything better
When you're alone, you think of Mel
When you're with mel, you think of her
When you spot a pretty flower, you think of Mel
One time, you unintentionally picked a couple of flowers, making them look all pretty as you practically skipped your way to where Mel would be. But she wasn't alone, jayce was there, another boy she was working with
You thought they looked close, and you started to back away from them, your heart sinking, you felt your throat get tight, god, you felt so stupid, of course she would like a man like jayce, why would she ever like you? You were always just going to be her friend
Later that same day, it had turned to night, you spent the rest of the day in bed, ignoring everything and everyone, you were hurt, confused, annoyed with yourself
You just wanted it all to go away
When you heard a knock at your door, and your eyes widened, you looked up, you were about to tell them to go away, whoever it was, that's when you heard a familiar voice
"hey, it's me."
It was Mel's.
You wanted so badly to ignore her, for her to just walk away, but you knew she wasn't going to do that, you closed your eyes and signed, eventually getting up as you walked towards the door and opened it for her
"what do you want? I'm trying to sleep..." You said, hating how you sounded speaking to her. You watched the way Mel frowned, how she looked so worried, her hand reached out and you flinched, she didn't show how much that saddend her.
"you didn't join me for dinner, I was worried. I had came to check on you, oh! I should tell you on what Jayce and I have been up to so far-"
You shook your head, turning away as your back faced her, "I don't wanna hear about him."
That was all Mel needed to hear.
She smiled, stepping closer to you as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in, you tried to protect but nothing came out and she wasn't letting you go anyways
There was no point
"tell me what's wrong, I know what you're like when you try and push others away, don't do that to me, please" she murmured, her voice soft and calming in your ears as you stared at the ground
you felt your eyes water
"I like you, Mel" you sniffled, you were ready for her to leave, for your friendship to be over. "I've always liked you Mel, more than how friends should like one another, I just I was so scared. But then I saw you with Jayce, and I got jealous, I grew distant, because I couldn't face you, I couldn't look at you in the eyes the same, knowing that he can be better for you than I could ever be."
For a moment, you didn't hear anything, you still heard her breathing from behind you as your heart thumped loudly in your chest.
Then she forced you to turn around and look into her eyes as her hand grabbed your chin, "you mean more to me than anyone could ever be, Why would you think such things?, you're more than my friend, you're my love, my laughter, my everything, this is all I ever wanted to hear from you" Mel said, she smiled so brightly, she looked gorgeous, you wanted to kiss her
You caressed her cheek with her hand, "can... Can I?" You were hesitant to ask, she chuckled, crashing her lips against yours, you melted into the kiss, wanting to stay here forever and ever, she tasted like strawberries and honey, you never wanted to get rid of that taste
Caitlyn;
Caitlyn knew there was something off about you the moment you stopped talking to her as much like you usually would
She found it strange, so unlike you, she looked forward to seeing you whenever she could and hear your voice
But as of lately, she's been alone and missing a certain someone, you
She's been talking to Jayce and wondering what to do and how she can help you if there is anything going on, she'd want to help, she was your friend, your best friend even
So it hurt her when you suddenly stopped hanging out with her
She couldn't stop thinking about you, if she had done anything to cause this, she was freaking herself out
She had even gone to Viktor and ask for his advice, he was sort of helpful, but it wasn't like he was cupid and had the best advice for crushing on your friend
Caitlyn missed you, a lot
She went to your place to find you, surprisingly, you weren't there, she looked at the library, she didn't see you, eventually, she did find you, sitting outside by a tree, you looked so pretty, she couldn't help but admire, she ran up to you, excited, she needed to be around you again
"Cait?..." You said, looking surprised, she wasn't sure why you would be, she didn't say anything and just hugged you tightly
You hugged her back
"where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you, you had me worried" Caitlyn's words came out rushed, you smiled at her.
"can you sit with me?" You asked.
She happily did.
"what's going on? Did something happen?-"
"Cait, let me speak."
You had cut her off before she could even finish asking more, she immediately shut up, she knew you needed to take your time to gather your words, she wanted to touch you again, but she restrained herself
"there's been a lot on my mind, that's why I haven't seen you, but I need to tell you something" you said, she can see the way you were fidgeting with your fingers, a thing you do when you're nervous, then you just randomly stood up, pacing back and forth.
"whatever you have to tell me won't be that bad-" Caitlyn tried to reassure, still you didn't listen
"I like you" you shouted at her, she blinked.
"you what?" She muttered, still processing your words
"I know this was a bad idea to tell you how I really felt, but I had to, I couldn't not tell you, I really fucking like you, Caitlyn" you said, it almost looked like you were on the verge of tears
Caitlyn stood up, you stared up at her expecting the worst, but then she cupped your face and kissed you
That alone told you enough of what she really meant, as you kissed her back, smiling
Vi;
You have always liked Vi for as long as you've known her, that wasn't anything new, anyone who's ever met you knows about your crush on her, except for one person, Vi
She's always claimed not to be an oblivious person, but people who know her also know that's obvious to see from a mile away
Vi has always been a good friend to you, more than anyone has ever been
Ekko, one of your other friends, has been telling you to confess your crush to Vi for years, yeah, it's not something that's new, you two have known each other for ages, Ekko has been through it all witnessing it, and he just wants you to tell her already
"Ekko, I don't know. I don't wanna ruin what I have with her" you muttered, the two of you were hanging out one night, catching up over snacks and games, you hear him chuckle
"you won't, trust me. I wouldn't be telling you to do this if I wasn't sure."
He was right about that. You've always trusted Ekko no matter what it is, he's always had a good heart
and almost most of the time he was always right
Just maybe things will go okay, if you told Vi how you really feel, she won't stop being your friend, but the fact that everyone else can see your crush on her except for her you just weren't sure
Even when you think you know her, you still can't wrap your head around her
You had planned to tell her this Friday night, where you know she'd always meet at your hangout spot, you wanted to make it look pretty, make it feel special, also it was an excuse to distract yourself from what tonight was actually for
Ekko had helped picked out the music, Vi has always liked metal and punk rock, you were sure in another lifetime she would be in a band
you had gotten the snacks, her favorites and yours, including the drinks and the gift you wanted to give her, you've set up a blanket and pillows down for you both
Your heart felt like it was beating so hard it could rip out of your chest any minute
You checked the time and your eyes widened, she was going to be here any second, fuck
You tried to stop pacing around, before you knew it she had arrived right on time, she greeted you with a smile and immediately hugged you, your cheeks warmed as you hugged her back, god you missed her so much
"what's the special occasion?" She asks with a raised eyebrow, biting her cherry as she laid down onto the blankets. "Everything looks so nice, and you got me my favorites? You spoil me."
You smiled, sitting down with her as you contemplated even telling her how you really felt, with how pretty she looks right now, you so badly wanted to kiss her
"I may have something" you said, finally able to get your words together. "Actually yes, I need to tell you something, vi" you hated how you were stuttering, you bit down on your bottom lip as you avoided her gaze.
"what's up, angel?" She said with a grin, she's always called you that, it's been her personal nickname made for you, it's always made you flustered
"Vi, I like... " You paused, trying to actually look into her eyes without looking away, "I like you."
Vi smiled, she looked like she didn't get it at first
"I like you to, angel" she chuckled.
You shake your head.
"no, vi, I actually like like you, I wanna be your girlfriend."
God you couldn't believe you actually told her
you waited for her to reject you, to just stand up and leave, but she didn't do any of that, instead Vi pulled you in closer, pressing her lips to yours as she kissed you hard, you gasped into her mouth, processing whats happening, that she's kissing you, her lips feel so soft against your own, your hand reached up to cup her face
She pulled away, letting you two have a moment to catch your breath as you felt ecstatic, "vi..."
"I've always liked you too, I'm glad you told me. I was actually planning on telling you myself, I didn't know when but you bet me to it, I'm glad you did, because this was the best, it was perfect."
You smiled, leaning in as your nose brushed against hers, she grabbed you by the shirt, making you fall into her as the night was not over just yet
Jinx;
Jinx had always been by your side for as long as you've known her, you have always been by hers, and she's always been by yours, that's just how you two were, when you met, it was an instant click, it was rare for jinx to experience that, so she kept you by for as long as she can
She loves everything about you, your entire personality, how no matter what you always make her day better, you were different, you meant a lot to her
She meant a lot to you as well
More than she'd ever know
Despite all that was happening, what you two have been through, you have always defended her, even when you didn't have to
She appreciates that, even if she doesn't tell you herself
It's like you somehow knew
She needed you, when Vi left, she needed you the most
You were one of the very few that stuck around, and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon
Jinx notices something was up when you weren't showing up to her place like you'd usually be, you were always around, as of late, she didn't see much of you
She wondered why
Did she do something wrong? Are you finally realizing you're better off without her?
No, she couldn't think like that
She was able to easily find you again, you were standing by yourself on an edge, she was concerned, extremely worried, she was so happy to see you again, but she knew she shouldn't rush you
"hey" you said, she didn't even say anything yet you knew she was here
"hi" she smiled, "what are you doing out here? It's cold" she starts to take off her jacket, she always gave you something to wear even if you don't need it right then
You let her put it on
You've always looked so pretty in her clothes
"you know, you'd be a good model, definitely have the body for it" she chuckles with a grin, unable to keep her eyes off you. She saw the way you looked down, how you smiled, she felt proud of that, a little bit cocky too. "You okay? You wanna tell me what's up? You've been avoiding me. You know how I am when people try to ignore me" she couldn't help but pout.
You turn to face her, finally looking at her, she smiles at the sight of you. "I know, I'm sorry about that, a lot has been on my mind. Jinx, there's something I have to tell you, I can't hide it anymore."
She frowned, unsure of what you meant, were you planning on leaving her? Moving away forever? Was she not going to be able to see you ever again? So many thoughts clouded her
But what you told her was nothing she was expecting
"I like you, Jinx, for so long, I've liked you, and no, not in the platonic way, yes, that too, I mean you've meant something more to me for a long time" you said, staring into her gaze as her mouth hangs open, you what?
She rushes to you, wrapping her arms around you tightly as she feels like she could almost cry, good tears this time, her heart was beating so fast she laughed loudly
"why didn't you tell me sooner?" She grinned, cupping your face with both of her hands like you were her entire world, you are, you've always been. "I've liked you since forever, idiot, jeez, finally one of us came clean about it. I was gonna make a dramatic reveal to you but this was so you. I like it. I really like you too. A lot. Please be mine."
And you happily did, you kissed her, that night was the best night of your lives.
Sevika;
Sevika wasn't an easy woman to read, some people have found it hard to even get under her skin, find out what makes her tick, what makes her squirm, loose balance
But you'd be a fool to test her
Then again, you were always known to be a foolish one
When people see you two together, they can't see it, you were brighter, much bubbly, always smiling then there was Sevika, scary, intimating, will kill you with one look
You two were total opposites, no one could understand how you worked so well together
But you just made it work
You were the book smart to Sevika's street smart, which is why silco partnered you with his most trusted a lot, she couldn't exactly argue with it at first, she still did, complaining about having to babysit you, despite the fact that she wasn't that much older than you anyways
Okay, maybe by a few years older, but you didn't need a god damn babysitter
She knew how to piss you off, and you knew how to annoy her as well
It went back and forth, at first, you two fought a lot,there were a lot of misunderstandings, people were even nervous to get in between you both, you two were just so loud about everything that only silco can shut you both up
Eventually, after a while, a long while, things started to settle, and Sevika understood why silco picked you
She knew he wouldn't pick any random person, he had his reasons
Then something weird started to happen, she grew more protective over you, sure, she knew she was already protective of those she cared most, but you, she wasn't sure about, it just happened all of a sudden, if anyone was bothering you, hell, if anyone tried to hurt you, hell would be unleashed
Jinx would always mock her of how much she protects you and will do anything for you, Sevika tries to fight it, her stubbornness winning, but as soon as she sees you, her walls are being cut down, forced to let you see her, as she watches you from afar, admiring your work and talents, how much dedication and time you put into things, she's actually impressed by you
The first time she ever complimented you had you feeling all giddy for weeks, months even, you wanted nothing more than to be praised by her again
Jinx was over it
How much you talked about her, how pretty she is, she'd literally gagged at how love sick you were about her, she was so tempted to shove you both in a closet to hurry the hell up and get it over with
But she knew sevika would kill her
Then again, she's reached a point where she couldn't care less
When Jinx was able to get you two alone together to finally actually talk things out, she did, she was gonna make it work, even if she had to be dramatic and pull a little strings
She would live with the fact that Sevika was gonna be pissed at her for a long time, possibly forever if this goes terribly wrong, but she doubts it would
It was a late Saturday night, everyone was still awake and hanging around, Sevika was sitting at the bar, right where Jinx told her where to meet, Jinx watched as you finally showed up, looking all nice as she grinned, walking away from it, letting it all play out
"Sevika?" You muttered, confused to see her there
But fuck did she look good
She frowned at the sight of you, about to say something, but her words fell flat at what you were wearing, you looked beautiful
Like really fucking gorgeous
"you look... Nice."
Your cheeks warmed at that, hearing her compliment you as you looked away from her gaze that was too intense for you
"yeah, I was told you'd be here... Jinx told me you wanted to speak to me about something important."
Then it clicked to her.
"fuckin' jinx" she groaned, shoving her glass away. "She set us up."
"what?" You said, dumbfounded, going to sit next to her.
There was a pause, you stared in the distance, distracted, she stared at you more, admiring your features, how pretty you looked in that dress
She's never seen you wear something so formal
It suited you
She bit down on her bottom lip, all of a sudden feeling nervous to speak
"how do you feel about us?" You asked, still not looking at her, she frowned
"us?" She repeated.
You nodded, turning your head to look at her in the eyes
"yeah, me and you. We're a good team, you make a good partner" you say. She felt her heart skip a beat, what the fuck was happening? Why were you being so nice to her?
"what is it" she muttered, "just tell me what you want."
"huh?" You looked confused.
"fuckin' hell" she groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Tell me."
"I like you" you spat out before you could even think.
She raised an eyebrow at you.
"say that again?."
"sevika" you sighed, she liked the way her name sounded coming from your lips, she wanted to hear it again. "This is already awkward as fuck, I like you, okay, fuck, I never hated you, well, maybe at some point I disliked you, at the start, but even then, you're a goddess, fucking look at you, your stunning, anyone would fall for that."
That took her off guard, definitely not what she was expecting
"if you want to cuss me out and stop being partners I'll accept I-"
She shut you up with her lips, pressing herself into you as you almost fell off your stool. She grabbed onto you as you held on tight, kissing her hard, as you moaned into her mouth.
After a while, she didn't want to stop kissing you, neither did you want to stop, you both broke away breathless, pressing your foreheads against each others
"come to mine?" She says with a smile
It's not often you see Sevika smile
"lead the way."
#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane x female reader#arcane x gender neutral reader#arcane imagine#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn kiramman x reader#vi x reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#jinx x reader#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika x y/n
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I don't share this often, but I am a trans man named Minty.
awhile after I got my legal name change, I asked my mom what she would have named me if I was a boy. she said Sebastian, and I groaned and complained that I should have asked before I got the name change, because I really DID like Sebastian now that it was occurring to me as a possible name and had ALWAYS liked Sebastian, even before my MCU days as a teenager. I had even considered it as an option but worried I'd end up looking like a weird fandom kid that had never let go of the MCU. if I had known that was the name my mother had picked for me, I would have had justification to choose it.
she asked me why I picked Minty then. i kinda paused in surprise because I thought it was obvious. and I was like. well. I wanted a name i felt like I could associate with childhood me.
after the first house we lived in was foreclosed on by the bank, we had to rent while my parents fixed their credit and swore never to get a fixer upper again. so we picked a nice house in our small town with only two real neighbors of note: an old lady, whose kids had forgotten about her, that lived way down the alley, around the point it turned from paved to dirt, the only house down there, who had a pomegranate tree in her ill-tended front yard, and a nice old lady next door that for some inexplicable reason had a miniature horse and a beautifully tended flower garden she had foolishly once planted mint in. she also had a very, very old fashioned rotary telephone. I mean the kind hardwired into the wall, of metal, with a speaker with a smooth wooden handle that sat neatly on top. not one of the plastic ones. the ones you see in old movies.
we loved these old ladies very much. the pomegranate lady was too old to keep up on her yard, so my brother and I would go with our dad to help weed whack and scrape up the dead leaves. we didn't offer too much, she was a proud sort, and couldn't pay us, but just enough to help out a little. and the mint in her flower garden lady loved it when we came by to say hi to her horse whose name I forget and loved to teach us how to garden.
she would send us home with mint. obviously. because when you have a mint infestation, well. it's pointless, but you gotta try anyway. and my mom would take that mint and make sun tea, just on the edge of not sweet enough, bc she was a bit of a crunchy mom, but not enough to reprimand me for sneaking a bit of sugar into my cup after to mix it up. (the sugar never dissolved right, especially after it was chilled, and i would always make a racket trying to get it to do so)
I told her I picked Minty because it ties me to my childhood. I didn't want to just cast it away. I wasn't Minty yet, but I also wouldn't be Minty without those days.
mom hasn't fully come around to me being trans. but she was quiet for a long, long time before she kind of whispered. I think I like Minty better than Sebastian. you should keep it.
my mom has always beat herself up over our childhood. she lacked a lot of stability in her upbringing and thought church was the way to go with my brother and I. unfortunately, she picked the wrong church. it was intensely traumatizing for us. we've had a lot of tough conversations about it. but I was able to tell her that day, you know Mom, I know you think you didn't do enough, but just know I'm not trans because you put me in a place where womanhood was miserable and I'm running from it. I don't remember much of the church, even though it consumed my life. what I do remember is my mother, the woman I may have complicated feelings towards, but have always admired and was always my standard for womanhood, being criticized by the other women for allowing me to read this book or that book and not bending or breaking under their rebukes for twenty years. I remember finding out as a twenty year old that I was the only "girl" in church that got the HPV vaccine, because you wanted to protect me, and not rely on chastity alone, like some sort of egotistical maniac who believed I'd always be your daughter, not a living breathing person that would make choices you didn't approve of as an adult, that shouldn't have to suffer for no reason from those choices. I remember you reading to my brother and I well into our teen years, using your acting talents that didn't blossom into the career you wanted to bring the characters in Peter and the Starcatchers to life. I remember listening to Lord of the Rings on cassette tape in the mini van, even though they said it was demonic when they found out. I remember the mom that let me be a tomboy. I remember the mom that would put on the Wind and the Willows on cassette from the library on rainy summer days and we'd listen to it and eat meatballs and spaghetti in the kitchen.
I told her, you're not a failure as a mother, and I didn't hate womanhood because of your example. it just didn't fit me. you made mistakes because you're human. I never thought of you as less than because you're a woman, and I didn't want to escape the cage you're thinking i wanted to escape.
my mom cried. I think that was the first time i made her cry and didn't feel bad about it.
anyways. not a soft memory, but it feels soft to me.
Tell me a soft memory
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Again and Again: J.W
SMUT | 18+ | MDNI
I've been DYING to write a Wooyoung smut, he's just so... bratty in the most dom way ever... FUCK
->Starring: Dom!Bratty!WooyoungxAfab!Sub!Reader ->Genre: Smut ->Taglist: @e3ellie @yoonshiiu @yunlazia @jonghoslilstar If you would like to be a part of the taglist please fill out this form ->Cw: Multiple orgasms, denied orgasm, overstimulation, edging, begging, vibrator, spanking, light bondage, degradation, praise, squirting
Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist
2 hours. 2 very long hours and your cries were music to his ears “What’s wrong baby? I thought you could take it��� his voice dripping with a sickeningly sweet tone as he lets out a cackle “Woo please can’t take it” your words aren’t forming into a full sentence, the only thing you can focus on is the vibration on your clit and the 6 ruined orgasms. "Are you tapping out already? Oh, honey. We haven't even gotten started" You let out a whine as he presses the wand harder against your clit "I haven't even turned it up all the way up and you're an absolute mess, look at how you're soaking the sheets" He tsks while turning the vibrator up. Your body jolts and a scream escapes your lips "S'too much Youngie please please can't fuck" Your pants come out heavy as you pull on the restraints in hopes of escaping the brutal torture he was putting you through, but deep down you loved it and he knew it. You feel another orgasm approach and your hips subconsciously grind against the toy but before you can let go Wooyoung pulls it off "No no no no please Woo, please. I wanna cum please." You sob and he grins at the tears that fall "Oops! Were you close? I didn't realize." He shrugs. You let out another little scream and your body twitches as he casually places the wand back on your sensitive nub "Well go on. Cum. You were just begging" and like the good girl you were you did what he said. He let out a moan as he watched your eyes roll back, mouth open but no sound coming out. Your orgasm was so intense from how many times he edged you. The sigh of you clenching and your cum leaking out like a faucet was something that will forever be engraved into his brain "That's it baby cum for me" "Oh fuck Woo" Your thighs shake as you ride out your orgasm and to your surprise, he doesn't stop "No no Woo please. Too sensitive fuuuckkk" Your whines are loud but he only turns it up "You wanted to cum, so you're gonna keep cumming"
2 orgasms later and you're completely spent but does that stop him? Absolutely not. If anything, your screams and little whines were only encouraging him "One more? No? Oh come on you can give me one more." You shake your head no but the burning in your stomach is undeniable "Oh god m'gonna cum again" "That's it, such a good little pussy" he watches as your back arches off the bed and his eyes widen when he sees you gushing all over the sheets. Your body thrashes as broken gasps leave your lips “Well I definitely wasn’t expecting that! I didn’t know you could do that!” His excitement was overwhelming. He set the toy to the side as your body starts to relax “d-didn’t know either” your words are stuttered feeling absolutely exhausted “Oh we have to do that again” his smile widens when you shoot him a glare.
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez jung wooyoung#wooyoung ateez#ateez wooyoung#jung wooyoung#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung#wooyoung x you#wooyoung x y/n#I want bratty Wooyoung right now#he’s so djajsbjsnahaba please
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99 PROBLEMS | MV1
an: this is literally a crack fic, i had the idea when i was listening to 99 problems by jay-z and i was talking to @iamred-iamyellow please enjoy
summary: max never expected to one day have a 17 year old son. he didn't know he was a father. but now he's got to try and figure out how this nerd is his son. and also teach him how to live a little.
wc: 3.3k
Max never thought he’d be a single dad to a teenage boy, but shit happens.
One minute, he was in Monaco celebrating another podium win, champagne-soaked and grinning for the cameras. The next, there was a seventeen-year-old with his eyes and an attitude to match standing on his doorstep with a duffel bag. His name was Noah—“not ‘Dad,’ just Max”—and he wasn’t here to bond. No, Noah was here because apparently the universe thought karma would be funnier this way.
Max was on the balcony of his Monaco apartment replying to a few emails, the city’s lights flickering like a postcard behind him. He could hear Noah inside, rifling through the fridge, muttering complaints about the lack of “real food.”
“Hey, don’t knock the caviar!” Max called over his shoulder. “It’s got protein!”
“Caviar’s not dinner!” Noah fired back, slamming the fridge door.
Max smirked, chuckling a bit. The kid had a point. The life of a Formula One champion didn’t exactly prepare him for raising a teenager. Most days, it was all jet-setting, high-end sponsorships, and a new girl on his arm by sundown. It was messy, but it was his kind of messy. Now? Now, he had to figure out how to squeeze fatherhood in between the chaos.
“You seriously live like this?” Noah asked, stepping onto the balcony, holding up one of Max’s custom helmets. His tone wasn’t admiration—it was judgement.
“Like what?” Max said, not looking up from his phone.
“You know, like...this. Cars, women, parties. I mean, isn’t it exhausting?”
Max chuckled low, pocketing his phone. “Don’t have time to be tired.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “Right. So, uh...where do I fit in this circus?”
Max turned, his smirk fading just enough to let a flicker of honesty show. “Haven’t figured that out yet. But we’ll make it work.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Max glanced back at the city below. “Now, go grab a drink or something. Just...not the champagne.”
And that’s how it started: the driver, his kid, and a life moving faster than either of them could control.
Max hadn’t had a conventional childhood and he could tell this kid did, well as conventional as it was to be dropped off at your dad who you’ve never met’s house a few weeks before your 18th birthday.
He thought that maybe while he was here he could teach him a few things, take him to a few races or something.
Max didn’t really know what to do.
The private gym was tucked into the corner of Max’s penthouse, all sleek machines and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It was rarely used. Most of Max’s training happened at the Headquarters. or with his team, but Noah had been dragging his feet around the apartment all week, so Max figured a little sweat might do them both some good.
“Alright, kid,” Max said, tossing a pair of dumbbells onto the mat. “Let’s see if you’ve got anything in the tank. Ever lifted before?”
“Sure,” Noah replied, unimpressed. He sat down on the bench press, giving the machine a once-over like he was deciding whether or not to trust it.
Max crossed his arms, watching as Noah pushed through a few hesitant reps. “Not bad. But if that’s your warm-up, we’re in trouble.”
Noah glared, setting the weights down with a clink. “Not all of us need muscles for a living.”
Max laughed. “Touché. So, what do you do for fun then?”
“Fun?”
“Yeah, fun. You know, like hobbies, friends, maybe a girlfriend?”
Noah shrugged, grabbing a water bottle. “Not much. I play some video games, read, I guess. Nothing crazy.”
“Read?” Max frowned. “What, no parties? No sneaking out? You don’t go out?”
“Go out where?” Noah’s voice had that dry teenage edge to it. “I’m seventeen. I lived in America my whole life. You can’t even get into a bar without a fake ID there.”
Max froze mid-stretch, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’ve never had a drink?”
Noah gave him a look like he’d just asked if the sky was blue. “No?”
Max stared at him, dumbfounded. “God. If only you knew what I was doing at your age when my dad had his back turned.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh, let me guess. Clubbing in Paris. Drinking champagne with supermodels. Living the dream?”
“Belgium, but close,” Max said, leaning against the bench press. “Keg parties in the back of some guy’s trailer in Hasselt. Terrible beer, worse decisions, and my trainer yelling at me the next morning. Still, though. I can’t believe you’re seventeen and haven’t even had a sip.”
“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” Noah muttered.
“Not a big deal?” Max barked out a laugh. “Mate, by seventeen, I’d already figured out my go-to drink order. Vodka tonic. Not classy, but it got the job done.” He leaned in, his grin borderline mischievous. “We’ve got some work to do.”
Noah held up his hands, shaking his head. “Oh no. You’re not turning this into some wild ‘how to live’ project.”
Max raised his eyebrows, mock-innocent. “Hey, I’m just saying. Gotta live a little.”
“Maybe I don’t want to end up like you,” Noah shot back.
Max laughed again, but this time it came quieter, almost thoughtful. “Trust me, buddy. Nobody ends up like me. Now, come on. Two more sets, and then I’ll show you how to make a proper protein shake. Don’t worry—I won’t spike it.”
Noah snorted, shaking his head as he got back to work. It was just another morning, another disagreement, but Max couldn’t help feeling like they were inching closer to something real. Something like family.
By the end of the week, Noah was starting to think his dad was running some kind of unofficial competition.
On Monday, it was Marie. She was Monegasque, blonde, and talked like she was auditioning for a perfume ad. “Bonjour, mon cher,” she’d purred at Noah, ruffling his hair like he was ten. Max had barely noticed her leave, too busy scrolling his phone for his next big sponsorship deal.
Tuesday brought Yasmin, a Brazilian model who walked around the apartment in Max’s oversized shirt, pretending not to notice Noah glaring at her from the couch. She’d tried to make conversation, something about school and books, but Noah had just shrugged until she gave up.
By Wednesday, it was Clara, who had an annoying laugh and kept calling Max “babe” like they’d been married for years.
Thursday was a whirlwind—two girls, both of whom Max forgot to introduce. One of them waved awkwardly at Noah as they left, heels clicking on the tile floor.
By Friday, Noah wasn’t even fazed. He sat at the kitchen counter, eating cereal while Max brewed coffee, shirtless and looking entirely too smug for a guy running on five hours of sleep.
“How?” Noah finally said, his spoon clinking against the bowl.
Max glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “How what?”
“You know.” Noah waved vaguely toward the hallway where yet another pair of heels had disappeared moments ago. “Them. How do you...?”
Max chuckled, shaking his head as he poured his coffee. “Not that complicated.” He took a sip, leaning against the counter like he was about to deliver some ancient wisdom. “They like fast cars and big dreams. I’ve got both.”
Noah squinted at him. “Yeah, but don’t they know what they’re getting into? Like...you’re not exactly giving ‘dad of the year’ vibes.”
Max laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. “Oh, they know. Trust me, they all think they’re the one who’s gonna ‘change me.’” He set his mug down, smirking. “Spoiler alert: they’re not.”
Noah frowned, stirring his cereal. “Doesn’t it get old?”
“What?”
“The whole thing. Girls coming and going. Don’t you ever want...I don’t know, something normal?”
Max tilted his head, studying him for a second. “Normal’s overrated. Besides, why are you so interested? You got someone back in the States?”
Noah snorted. “No. Not unless you count my English teacher who used to give me extra credit just to stop talking in class.”
Max grinned, pushing off the counter. “Smart kid. Learn from me, though—don’t waste your charm on teachers. Save it for someone who can actually keep up.”
Noah rolled his eyes, standing up to put his bowl in the sink. “You’re insane.”
“And yet,” Max said, raising his coffee in a mock toast, “I’m still your dad. Crazy how that works.”
Noah shook his head, walking out of the kitchen. But as he headed toward his room, he caught himself smirking. Max was a mess—there was no denying that. But, annoyingly, there was something kind of fascinating about watching him pull it off.
He had to give him some respect. Three time world champion but he lived his life like an unbothered bachelor that didn’t have a multi-million contract under his belt.
Two days later, Max was standing in front of his wardrobe, trying to decide between a black shirt and a white graphic tee. He ended up tossing the black top onto the bed, shrugging into the white tee. His phone buzzed on the nightstand—a message from the group chat reminding him that their table was already reserved at Jimmy’s.
Max grabbed his watch and headed toward the living room, adjusting it as he walked. Noah was sprawled on the couch, scrolling his phone with the kind of disinterested focus only teenagers could pull off.
“You wanna come?” Max asked casually, pulling his car keys from the counter.
Noah didn’t even look up. “I’m seventeen.”
Max leaned against the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And I’m Max Verstappen.”
Noah gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, that’s not how laws work.”
Max stepped into the room, tossing his keys in the air and catching them with one hand. “Relax, kid. You’re with me. No one’s checking your ID.” He raised an eyebrow, adding, “Unless you want to stay here and eat more cereal while I’m out having the time of my life.”
Noah hesitated, sitting up slightly. “What, and hang out with you and your harem of club girls? Hard pass.”
Max grinned, crossing his arms. “It’s not just girls. My friends will be there. Good music, good drinks, a little chaos. You could use some chaos.”
Noah snorted. “I don’t think I fit your ‘chaos’ aesthetic.”
Max walked over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to fit. You just show up, keep your head up, and let the good times come to you. Trust me, kid—it’s not rocket science.”
Noah looked at him, torn between scepticism and curiosity. “And if I hate it?”
“Then you call it a night, and we’ll come back. No harm, no foul.” Max shrugged. “But at least you’ll know what you’re missing.”
Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anyone tries to buy me a drink, I’m out.”
“Deal.” Max grinned, slapping him on the back. “Now, go change. You’re not wearing that.” He gestured vaguely at Noah’s hoodie and sweatpants.
“What’s wrong with this?”
“It’s not wrong; it’s tragic. Go put on something that says, ‘I’m seventeen, but I could still be cooler than you.’”
Noah rolled his eyes but got up and headed toward his room. Max leaned back against the couch, chuckling to himself. This was either going to be a disaster or the most fun he’d had in weeks.
Fifteen minutes later, Noah emerged in dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt. It wasn’t flashy, but it worked.
Max whistled. “There you go. Almost looks like you know what you’re doing.”
“Don’t push it,” Noah muttered, grabbing his jacket.
“Alright, kid,” Max said, swinging an arm around his shoulders as they headed for the elevator. “Welcome to the good life. Try to keep up.”
Jimmy’z was everything Noah expected and nothing he was prepared for. The place was loud, packed, and drenched in neon lights that pulsed to the bass of some remix he didn’t recognise. Max walked in like he owned it, breezing past the bouncers and slapping hands with a few familiar faces on his way to their table.
The VIP section was cordoned off with velvet ropes and framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. A couple of Max’s friends were already there, leaning back with drinks in hand, laughing at some story one of them was telling.
Max clapped a hand on Lando's shoulder, said something about ordering another round, and then turned to Noah with a grin. “Alright, kid. First drink’s on me.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to drink?” Noah muttered, looking around nervously.
“You’re not supposed to get caught drinking,” Max corrected, flagging down a waitress. “Two rum and cokes. Easy on the rum for him,” he added with a wink.
Noah sat awkwardly, trying to ignore the curious glances from Max’s friends. When the drinks came, Max slid one across the table. “Here. Cheers.”
Noah picked up the glass and took a cautious sip, immediately grimacing. “This tastes like gasoline.”
Max burst out laughing, nearly spilling his own drink. “Yeah, it’s not exactly a milkshake, but you’ll get used to it.”
Noah frowned but kept sipping, each drink slightly less terrible than the last. By the time the glass was empty, he didn’t hate it—but he definitely wasn’t in a hurry for another.
“Alright,” Max said, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the booth. “Time for your next lesson.”
“Lesson?”
“Yeah.” Max grinned, nodding toward the dance floor where a group of girls was laughing and swaying to the music. “How to get a girl.”
Noah blinked at him. “I’m seventeen.”
“And you’re eighteen in three weeks,” Max shot back, smirking.
Noah raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know that?”
Max sipped his drink, looking almost offended. “I pay attention. I’m not that bad of a father, you know.”
Noah snorted. “Debatable.”
“Hey, come on,” Max said, leaning forward and pointing at him with his glass. “I’ve got three weeks to turn you into someone who doesn’t spend prom night sitting in the corner playing Angry Birds. Let me work my magic.”
“I didn’t go to prom,” Noah mumbled.
“Exactly my point.” Max gestured to the dance floor. “Now, watch and learn.”
Noah shook his head, but he couldn’t help smirking. Watching Max in his element was like watching a lion stalk the savanna. Ridiculous, over-the-top, and somehow annoyingly effective.
Noah leaned back in the plush booth, his gaze flicking nervously between the drink in his hand and the dance floor. “This feels illegal,” he muttered under his breath.
Max, already halfway through his second rum and coke, let out a loud laugh that turned a few heads. “Illegal? We’re in Monaco.” He gestured broadly at the glittering club around them, as if the name alone erased all laws. “The girls here don’t care how old you are, as long as you’re pretty enough.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “And what if I’m not?”
Max leaned forward, smirking. “You’re my son, so of course you are. Trust me, kid, you’ve got the genes. Now, you just need the confidence to back it up.”
Noah rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, sure. Because confidence is something you can just magically summon.”
“Exactly,” Max said, snapping his fingers like it was that simple. “It’s all in the attitude. Look, you don’t need to be the smartest or the funniest guy in the room. You just need to act like you know something they don’t. Makes them curious. Curiosity’s half the battle.”
Noah stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s the dumbest advice I’ve ever heard.”
Max grinned, sitting back and gesturing to the waitress for another round. “And yet, here I am. Multi-millionaire. World champion. Living proof it works.”
“Yeah, but you’re—” Noah hesitated, then gestured vaguely at Max’s whole presence. “You.”
“Exactly. And you’re half me. Which means you’ve already got a head start.” Max leaned in, lowering his voice like he was letting Noah in on a secret. “Here’s the trick: don’t overthink it. If you go out there looking like you’ve got something to prove, you’ll scare ‘em off. Just...be cool.”
“Cool,” Noah repeated, deadpan. “Got it. Thanks for the groundbreaking advice.”
Max smirked, pushing his chair back and standing up. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But if I come back with two numbers before you even finish that drink, you’re buying me breakfast tomorrow.”
Noah shook his head as Max strolled off toward the dance floor, impossibly confident and infuriatingly charismatic. It was hard not to admire it, even if it made him feel like an awkward kid in comparison.
He stared down at his empty glass, debating whether to order another drink or just leave, when a girl about his age walked past and glanced his way. She gave him a small smile, and Noah froze, his heart racing.
Max’s words echoed in his head. “Just act like you know something they don’t.”
Noah took a deep breath, set his empty glass on the table, and stood up. His palms felt clammy, and every nerve in his body screamed at him to sit back down. But then he caught Max watching from the floor with an infuriating smirk before turning to whichever woman he was talking to this time.
Don’t overthink it, Noah reminded himself. Just be cool.
The girl was standing near the edge of the dance floor with a friend, laughing at something on her phone. She looked up as he approached, her eyes flicking over him in curiosity.
“Hey,” Noah said, trying to sound casual. “You looked like you needed saving from a bad joke.”
She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And you’re the knight in shining armour?”
“Something like that,” Noah said, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Or at least I’m not the guy who made you laugh like that.”
Her smile widened, and her friend nudged her playfully before disappearing toward the bar. “Smooth,” she said, tilting her head. “Do you use that line often?”
“First time, actually,” Noah admitted, his lips twitching into a nervous grin.
The honesty seemed to win her over. They started talking—light, easy banter—and before Noah knew it, she was laughing at something he’d said about his dad being a “professional bad influence.”
From the booth, Max had a clear view of the whole thing. He nudged Lando, grinning like a proud idiot. “Lan, look!” He pointed toward the dance floor. “The son of a bitch did it!”
Lando squinted, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t think he had it in him.”
Max chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “He’s my kid. Of course he’s got it in him.”
Noah returned to the table a while later, looking flushed and slightly dishevelled. His lips were swollen, and there was a faint lipstick smudge on his cheek.
Max raised his glass in a mock toast. “Atta boy!”
Noah slid into the booth, trying to suppress a grin. “Don’t make it a thing.”
“Oh, it’s already a thing,” Max said, slapping him on the back. “You’re officially part of the club now.”
Lando smirked. “Better keep an eye on him, Max. He’s almost got more potential than you.”
“Potential? He’s a damn prodigy,” Max joked, laughing. “First drink, first girl, all in one night. Kid’s got a better batting average than I did at his age.”
Noah rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling. As much as his dad’s teasing drove him crazy, there was something undeniably cool about seeing Max so proud.
“Alright,” Max said, clapping his hands together. “Now that you’ve got your feet wet, let’s see if you can do it again.”
Noah shook his head, laughing. “Not a chance. One’s enough for tonight.”
“Fair enough,” Max said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “But just so you know—you’ve officially graduated from boring.”
For once, Noah didn’t argue.
the end.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1#max verstappen angst#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#mv1 x you#mv1 one shot#mv1 x y/n#red bull f1#red bull racing#red bull formula 1#formula one x you#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula one#f1 one shot#f1 x you
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BANG-ABLE | Jeon Jungkook | Drabble 1
Summary: When your very curious robot boyfriend finds all of your old sex toys. Pairing: f!reader x Sex Bot Jungkook Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Smut but that goes without saying for this fic p.s. I put out a mini drabble as well right before this in case you didn't catch it hehe p.p.s I have another temperature play drabble request so keep an eye out for that one in the future 🤭 Requested by an anon 💜
"What are these?" Jungkook asks when he walks into the living room where I'm sat down watching Hidden Love for the fifth time, holding up my little black box that I had hidden away and had completely forgotten about.
"NOTHING!" I say hurriedly, scrambling to get off the couch and tripping over the blanket I was using in the process. I regain my footing, run up to him and reach for the box but he holds it over my head, completely out of my reach.
"Are you cheating on me?" he teases, the objects in the box being ones I used before I got him. "You seriously think I would use those anymore? Now give it here!" I jump but once my fingers just barely touch it he grabs onto my hips to keep me from trying again.
I glare, waiting for him to give them back and when all I'm given is a stupid smug smile I resort to threats. "Give that to me or I will turn you off and make you charge on the floor instead of in bed with me" his eyes widen, not expecting that and deciding to do as I say, handing me the box of various sex toys that could never truly satisfy me.
"Why do you have so many?" he asks, picking up one very elaborate and confusing looking one that I snatch out of his hand immediately and put back in the box, shoving it in the back of my closet.
"Because none of them did everything I wanted them to" I sigh and close the door in hopes to help change the subject. When I try to walk past him though he stops me by wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me back to stand in front of him.
"I don't know why I asked since I know how needy my baby is" he says, his voice dropping a bit while he places kisses on my neck, knowing that'll help take the edge off.
"Why do you always have to go through my t-things?" I stutter, my resolve of trying to stay upset with him faltering. "Because I wanna know everything about you baby, and that includes all of your dirty little secrets" he says directly into my ear before sucking on the sensitive skin right below.
I shudder at the thought of letting him in that much and I know I will eventually but his want to figure out as many ways as he can to please me on his own is way too fun to experience, no matter how embarrassing it might seem.
"You like that huh? The thought of me knowing everything about you, all your deepest darkest desires that you haven't even dared to say out loud. My baby likes to hide that away huh? Too afraid to even tell me what she wants sometimes. That's pretty selfish don't you think?" he says, his grip on my waist tightening when he pulls me closer, his sensors picking up on my arousal and in turn hardening his length for me to use as I see fit.
"Why don't you let me use some of those on you tonight hm? Or better yet, let me watch you use them to get yourself off. I bet you'd look adorable, so frustrated and begging for release but never quite getting exactly what you wanted" he says but I shake my head.
"Too cold, want you" his presence tonight being one that drove me into submission so easily. I can't help but become putty in his hands sometimes. He was made for me and knows exactly what I like so why not give into what his programing is telling him to do to me.
"Aw, too cold for you? Needed me to warm you up?" he says, his condescending way of talking to me one of the easiest ways to tip me into that submissive headspace, only with him though. With him things are different. With him I know I'm safe.
I nod my head and my lip juts out the slightest bit leaving him running his thumb along it before I decide to open my mouth and run my tongue across it. His robotic pupils dilate as if they were human and the next second I'm on my back on my bed, him hovering over me with that sexy smug look on his face.
"Does my pretty baby want something?" he asks, caressing my cheek with a featherlight touch, and I blink up at him, still reeling from his sudden actions. He hums as a way to get my attention on him again, wanting me to answer his question.
"Want you" I say, hoping he'll accept my simple answer but I know he won't settle for that. "You've gotta be a little more specific love" he teases making me huff. "Oh come on, be a good girl for me and tell me what you want hm?" he mumbles and peppers kisses all along my neck and collarbone, having worn just a tank top and shorts today.
His hands heat up and run along my skin, warming me up just like he said he would but suddenly his hands turn ice cold, making me push him away but as always he doesn't budge at all.
"What the matter love?" he taunts, his hands quickly going back to a normal temperature. "Don't do that" I scowl, not liking the sudden change. "Lemme play around a bit yeah? Wanna try something" he says, clearly ignoring my scolding.
I squint my eyes at him when he looks down at me, a stupidly tempting look on his face. "Just trust me" he says, leaning down to mumble it against my lips, just barely kissing me before pulling back and looking at me again for confirmation.
After thinking for a couple more seconds I nod my head and he tongues his cheek, a habit that he picked up from who knows where but something that's become so sexy to me and he knows it.
He helps me strip out of my clothes and lets out a groan in approval, running his fingers through my folds.
"Baby is so wet for me already and I've barely done anything. How adorable. Been waiting all day for me to touch you huh?" he says, watching as my mouth falls open when he applies pressure on my clit just how I like it, tracing circles around it and alternating with just barely dipping a finger into my entrance, never giving me what I really want, playing with me just like he said he would.
When his fingers start to touch me with more precision, one finger pumping inside of me while his thumb circles my clit I feel that same chill run though my body and I realize his hands have gone cold inside me making me yelp and back away from him but he growls and uses his other hand to grip my hip pinning me down on the bed to keep me from moving.
"Stay still for me love, promise it'll feel good" he says and I decide to trust him. He knows what my body wants and what it can handle, the signs to look out for to know what's going on in my head.
"So good for me" he says, kissing me and starting to pump his fingers in and out of me again, adding a second one right away but switching the temperature back to a warmer one to help with the stretch.
Once he starts to feel that I've gotten used to the intrusion he changes the temperature just cold enough so I can feel it, my back arching as the only way I can move about since he's still got my hips pinned against the mattress.
"Shh I know I know. You can take it though, it's just a little cold love" he coaches, his cold fingers dragging along my warm walls making me wince. "This is w-why I stopped using them, t-too cold" I admit although I already had before, hoping that in some way that would make him stop but he doesn't.
"You know I'll take care of you though" he says, the temperature of his fingers changing back to normal now, giving me a bit of a breather but soon he's pulling them out of me making me wince for another reason.
"Where are you going?" I whine but he only laughs and gets off the bed to take off his clothes before crawling back on top of me. "My baby is so impatient, aren't you?" he chuckles, settling between my legs and dragging his tip along my folds, his brows furrowed in concentration while collecting my slick and rubbing it all over his cock.
"Just put it in already, please" I basically cry out, the temperature play leaving me incredible sensitive and he knows it, not letting up with this sick form of torture. He places his tip against my entrance, not pushing in and just teasing my hole and when I open my mouth to protest he shoves himself into me, knocking the wind out of me, his response a hum, clearly satisfied with the results of his actions.
"Couldn't even wait for me to fuck you like I wanted to, needed my cock in you so bad that you couldn't even shut up and wait. Thought you wanted to be good for me tonight" he grunts, slamming into me at a relentless pace, his robotic strength being unparalleled in bed. I sob, the intensity and the need to catch my breath overwhelming me in the best way possible but when he chances the temperature of his dick I'm screaming for him to change it back.
"Stop running" he growls, grabbing my hips and sitting back on his heels so he can fuck me onto him, pushing and pulling my hips so fast making my breasts bounce up and down. "Fuck play with your tits. Wanna ruin you but my baby can lend me a hand or two can't she?" he says, talking down to me like I'm fucking stupid when I clearly am, cock drunk and barely able to see straight.
I slowly bring my hands up my torso, ghosting my fingers along my breasts, "S-shit" he stutters, his programing really playing the part and making me moan at his reaction. "Play with your nipples baby, get them nice and hard for me" he says, his hands dragging my hips back and forth making his length disappear inside of me over and over, never ceasing making my cock drunk mind go blurry, my reaction speed severely diminished.
He decides to give me a breather, stopping his movements and putting his fingers in my mouth, my lips closing around them right away. "Make a mess baby" he say, encouraging me to get them as wet as possible, my tongue swirling around them, a pool of saliva now gathered and making a complete mess, exactly how he wanted.
He takes them out of my mouth and my brows furrow, not wanting to stop since the approving gaze he gave me while I did it being something I didn't want to give up just yet. He chuckles and rubs his fingers together, making sure his thumb, pointer and middle finger are covered before using them to play with my nipple making me whine at the harsh pressure.
"Shh it's okay, I got you" he coaches, the cold temperature making my nipples harden painfully, goosebumps now present all over my body.
"My baby gets so cold so easily. Want me to warm you up again?" he taunts and I nod my head, the rate of his thrusts though making it difficult to decipher but he knows and so he switches to a warmer temperature making me sigh in delight. It quickly goes from too cold to way too warm making me moan in delight, the scorching temperature being painfully pleasurable.
"Don't worry baby, it's not gonna leave a mark, I wouldn't hurt my pretty girl. Unless she wanted me to" he says, the offer enticing enough to make me think twice but I shake my head 'no' and he take it. "Baby doesn't wanna be branded? That's okay, I'll take good care of you" he coos and that he does.
Over and over and over.
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Theo studied her as she turned to look at him, Davidson's warning ringing in his head about revealing the organisation to anyone and the consequences of doing so, however Theo had entered a new phase of his coping with what had happened to him. Most importantly he didn't want Violet idolising a life he had only allowed her to see glimpses of.
"Not the missions specifically," he gently shook his head, trying to word things in his own mind. He had even rehearsed what he should say that morning but of course as was the way, it had all gone out of his head now he was actually supposed to start. "The reason I don't go into details about them with you is because sometimes even hearing of these things can trigger episodes like the ones we talked about." Four days ago? But it felt longer.
"So when you ask me about them it's not just that I am being secretive, it's also to protect you from more than just knowledge of what I do." He drew in a breath, thankfully it was not shaky anymore but he was clearly trying to steel himself.
"You saw how it was I was recruited, Agent Davidson arrested me and put me in that ward for just over seven months before you turned up." His jaw knotted in the memory, "This was the basis of my working for them as an agent. They funded my education and for a short while between collage and the FBI I was working with the police as a special." No authority but all the training, "The ward was constantly held over my head as the threat it was meant to be, that if I did not do well in school, if I did not train properly or if I failed the academy I would be put back there and left there."
He chewed his tongue of course he was angry about what had happened to him and he hoped he could muster up the courage and strength to take himself with Samantha to the shooting range to let out some of that rage but for now he had to wait. "It was a very real threat, it wasn't until about twelve years ago that I was able to close that ward down once and for all and free myself from that threat." Theo studied her, carefully. "But now there is a new threat they could use, not just to ruin my career but I have six children, Rea, parents, in-laws, friends." There was nothing really noble about how it was they kept agents in line. "So I climbed. I worked hard for Delta Green and showed my loyalty by doing whatever it took," a darkness crossed his face for a moment as he thought on that and what he knew now of cultists. "I am not a regular agent but I am also stuck from progressing any further because I have given them everything."
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Violet's eyes widened in surprise. "You want to talk about... your work as an agent?" She couldn't believe her ears. He didn't want to talk about the ward or her recklessness after all; he wanted to talk about Delta Green. He never talked about it. A few things here and there, sure. But never in detail, and definitely never without her prompting it.
"Of- of course," she stammered, shifting in the bed so she could look at him, "I'd like that very much." Violet had always been so curious about his life as an agent, and she was astonished that he suddenly wanted to tell her about it.
She wasn't sure why he wanted to talk about that. Samantha and him had mentioned the toll that this work had on them. Was that what this was about? Or was he trying to deter her from ever joining the Program? Either way, she wanted to know what he had to say. "What... what do you want to talk about? Your missions?"
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too late
pairing: jenna ortega and reader
summary: in which, after weeks of hesitation, you finally decide to tell jenna the truth—only to realize she has plans of her own.
word count: 7.1k
warnings: sensitive topic - lung cancer
authors note: in honor of november being lung cancer awareness month.
It began with a cough.
Not the kind that comes and goes with a cold or allergies, but one that lingered—sharp, persistent, and out of place.
At first, you brushed it off, chalking it up to stress or the changing seasons. But days turned into weeks, and instead of fading, it seemed to grow heavier, like it was pulling something deep from your chest.
You'd ignored it longer than you should have, convincing yourself it was nothing.
Jenna had even teased you about it once or twice, her laughter light and dismissive as she handed you a bottle of water and told you to "take better care of yourself." You'd laughed along with her, but deep down, something about it unsettled you.
When the pain started—a dull ache beneath your ribs every time you took a deep breath—you knew you couldn't ignore it anymore.
That's when you made the call.
The appointment came and went in a blur.
The doctor had been kind but direct, asking questions you couldn't answer with certainty. How long had the symptoms persisted? Had you noticed anything else? Fatigue, weight loss? You'd nodded at some points, shook your head at others, feeling like each response was pulling you further into a place you didn't want to be.
"We'll run some tests," they'd said, their tone neutral, almost too neutral. "Just to be safe."
You'd left the office that day with a sinking feeling you couldn't quite explain, like a storm cloud had settled just over your shoulders. But even then, you told yourself it was nothing.
It had to be.
When the call came, days later, their voice was calm but edged with something you couldn't place.
The voice on the other end, professional but cautious, had asked if you could come in—today. It wasn't a suggestion; it was an urgency wrapped in sterile politeness, and that was when it hit you—that it wasn't nothing.
The drive to the clinic had felt like an eternity. The silence in the car had been unbearable, but every time you'd reached for the radio, your hand had fallen back into your lap. Music felt too loud, too intrusive, as if it would force you to acknowledge the knot in your stomach that had been tightening since the moment you hung up the phone.
The streets blurred past you, familiar landmarks losing their meaning. All you could focus on was the road ahead and the gnawing thought that something was wrong—something worse than you wanted to admit. Your hands had gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, and at one point, you'd realized you were holding your breath without meaning to.
By the time you'd pulled into the clinic's parking lot, your chest ached—not just from the persistent cough but from the weight of your anxiety.
You'd sat there for a moment, staring at the sliding glass doors, wondering if you could just... drive away. Pretend the call never happened. Pretend nothing was wrong.
But then you'd thought of Jenna. Her face had flashed in your mind—her smile, the way she always seemed to know when something was bothering you, even when you tried to hide it. You couldn't hide this forever, and if you didn't walk in now, it would only get worse.
The waiting room had been quiet, save for the soft hum of a fish tank in the corner and the occasional murmur of voices. You'd checked in at the front desk, the receptionist's cheery smile making your stomach twist, and then found a seat near the window.
The minutes stretched on.
There had been an older man across from you, his hands trembling slightly as he flipped through a magazine he clearly wasn't reading. Beside him, a woman with a scarf tied around her head stared at the floor, her expression distant.
You couldn't stop wondering about their stories—what they were going through, what battles they were silently fighting. Compared to them, your cough and aches felt trivial, like you didn't belong in this space.
You'd convinced yourself, even as you sat there, that you were wasting everyone's time. That whatever was happening to you couldn't possibly be as bad as what these people were enduring.
Maybe it had been an overreaction to come at all, you thought, even though you knew deep down that wasn't true.
When your name was finally called, your heart jumped into your throat. You stood, legs feeling unsteady beneath you, and followed the nurse down a hallway that smelled faintly of disinfectant and something metallic.
She'd led you to a small room and asked you to wait for the doctor, her smile kind but fleeting, as if she knew what was coming.
The seconds ticked by in excruciating silence. Your eyes had scanned the walls, landing on a framed picture of a mountain range, a feeble attempt to make the space feel less clinical. It didn't work.
When the door opened, Dr. Patel had stepped in, clipboard in hand, his face calm but serious. He'd greeted you with a nod, his usual warmth muted, and gestured for you to sit.
You'd perched on the edge of the chair, your hands clenching and unclenching in your lap. Dr. Patel had sat across from you, his gaze steady but unreadable as he placed the clipboard on the desk.
"I wanted to go over the results of your tests," he'd begun, his voice measured, like he was trying to soften the blow before it landed.
He'd turned his computer screen toward you, the image of a scan glowing faintly against the dim light of the room. He'd pointed to an area on the scan, circling it with the cursor as he explained the findings.
The words he used were clinical, detached, but you caught enough to piece it together. Something about nodules, abnormalities, and how the mass in question hadn't been there before.
And then he'd said it. The word you'd been avoiding, the one that made everything crash down around you.
Cancer.
You'd felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. For a moment, you couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
The word echoed in your mind, bouncing around like it didn't belong there. You'd stared at the scan, your eyes unfocused, as Dr. Patel continued to explain the next steps—biopsies, treatments, consultations—but his voice had become background noise.
You hadn't cried, not then. You'd just nodded numbly, your hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly you thought they might snap. Your chest had tightened, the ache you'd been ignoring now unbearable, but you'd forced yourself to stay still.
When the appointment ended, you'd walked out of the clinic in a daze. The world outside had felt too bright, too normal, like nothing had changed when everything had.
You'd sat in your car for what felt like hours, staring at the steering wheel as the weight of it all pressed down on you. And for the first time, you'd thought about what this meant—not just for you, but for Jenna.
How would you even begin to tell her? How could you?
She was the person you turned to when things felt too heavy, the one who always knew how to make everything seem a little less impossible. But this time... this time felt different.
You'd closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat, trying to imagine how the conversation would go. You could see her face so clearly in your mind, the way her brows would furrow, her lips parting as she searched for the right words.
You could almost hear her voice, the way it would waver as she asked, "What does this mean? What do we do?"
And that's where your mind stalled—because you didn't have the answers.
You didn't know what it meant, not really, and you definitely didn't know what to do. The idea of seeing that kind of fear in her eyes, of being the reason her world tilted off its axis, made your stomach twist.
Then there was her work. Jenna had always been busy, but lately, it felt like the world was pulling her in a million directions at once.
She'd been running from set to set, juggling interviews, photo shoots, and endless calls with her team. You'd seen how tired she was, how she tried to hide it behind a bright smile whenever she came home, but you could see the strain in her eyes.
How could you add this to her plate?
The thought hit you like a punch to the gut, the realization settling in with a kind of brutal clarity. If you told her, it wouldn't just be your burden anymore—it would become hers, too. And that wasn't fair. Not when she already had so much to carry.
You'd opened your eyes, staring at the dashboard, trying to convince yourself that waiting wasn't the same as hiding. It wasn't like you were lying to her, not really.
You just needed time to figure things out, to understand what this meant and what came next. Maybe once you had more information, once you knew what the treatment would look like or what the prognosis was, it would be easier to tell her.
Or maybe that was just an excuse.
The truth, the part you didn't want to admit even to yourself, was that you were scared. Not just of the diagnosis, but of what it would do to her.
Jenna was strong—stronger than anyone you'd ever met—but this felt like too much, even for her. You couldn't bear the thought of seeing her break under the weight of it, of watching her world shift because of something you couldn't control.
And then there was the selfish part of you, the part that didn't want to see the pity in her eyes. You didn't want her to look at you differently, to start treating you like you were fragile or broken. You didn't want this to define you, not yet, not in her eyes.
So you'd made the decision, sitting there in the stifling silence of your car. You wouldn't tell her—not now, at least. You'd keep this to yourself, at least until you knew more, until you could figure out how to explain it without falling apart.
It wasn't an easy decision. In fact, it felt like the hardest thing you'd ever done. But as you sat there, the weight of it all pressing down on your chest, it felt like the only choice you had.
You thought that, for now, you'd carry this alone.
But after a while, things felt different.
The days had turned into weeks, and with each passing one, the weight of the secret grew heavier. It wasn't just the diagnosis itself; it was the way it bled into every part of your life, a shadow you couldn't shake.
And Jenna—she'd started noticing.
It was small things at first, things that were easy to dismiss or laugh off.
You'd caught her watching you more closely when you coughed, her brow creasing ever so slightly. "Maybe you should get that checked out," she'd said once, the words half-teasing but laced with genuine concern. You'd waved her off with a smile, promising it was nothing, but the look in her eyes had lingered.
Then there were the nights when you'd felt too drained to do much of anything. Jenna had curled up beside you on the couch, her hand brushing against yours as she asked, "Are you feeling okay? You've seemed... tired lately."
You'd blamed it on work, on stress, on anything but the truth, and she'd let it go—though not without a small frown tugging at her lips.
The tipping point had come a few nights ago, when you'd caught her staring at you in the mirror.
You'd been brushing your teeth, the rhythmic sound filling the quiet bathroom, when you noticed her reflection watching yours. "You've lost weight," she'd said softly, her voice more curious than accusatory.
"I haven't noticed," you'd lied, avoiding her gaze.
She'd hesitated, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe. "Maybe we should book a check-up or something," she'd suggested, her tone light but her eyes serious.
You'd shrugged it off again, changing the subject, but the way her gaze lingered on you made it clear she wasn't convinced.
And that's what finally pushed you to make the decision. You couldn't keep brushing her off, couldn't keep pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.
She was already worried, even if she didn't fully realize it yet. And sooner or later, she was going to piece things together on her own.
So when she told you she finally had a night free—no calls, no meetings, no obligations—you decided it was time.
The two of you had been planning this date for weeks, trying to carve out time amidst the chaos of her schedule. It wasn't anything extravagant, just dinner at your favorite little spot downtown, but it felt significant in a way you couldn't quite explain.
You told yourself it was the right moment, that you couldn't keep putting this off. You didn't know where this illness would take you next or how much time you had before the symptoms became impossible to hide. The coughs were more frequent now, the fatigue harder to mask. It was only a matter of time before Jenna noticed something you couldn't explain away.
This wasn't how you'd wanted to tell her—not like this, over a quiet dinner on what should've been a happy night. But you didn't see another choice. You couldn't keep lying to her, and you couldn't bear the thought of her finding out some other way.
As you got ready for the evening, the weight of the decision settled over you, heavy but resolute. You weren't sure how you were going to say it or what words you'd use, but you knew it had to be now.
Tonight, you'd tell her.
You'd been rehearsing the words in your head all day, trying to prepare yourself for what felt impossible to say.
But now, sitting in the car, you couldn't ignore the way the air seemed heavier, weighed down by something you couldn't name, and Jenna—Jenna wasn't herself.
She'd been trying to act normal, you could tell. Humming along to the radio, her fingers drumming against the steering wheel like she always did, glancing over at you every so often with what you guessed was meant to be a reassuring smile.
But there was a tension in her movements, a stiffness that wasn't usually there.
It was subtle, barely noticeable if you weren't paying attention. But you were paying attention.
Her hands gripped the wheel a little tighter than usual, her knuckles pale against the leather.
Her gaze lingered too long on the road ahead, as if she was focusing on anything but you. The way she adjusted the air conditioning, even though it didn't need it, or fiddled with her bracelet, slipping it up and down her wrist—these weren't things Jenna usually did.
Your chest felt tight, and not from the illness.
Had she figured it out? Had she found something—a paper you'd forgotten to throw away, maybe, or a note scrawled hastily with an appointment reminder? You'd been so careful, but the thought that you'd slipped up sent a sharp pang of anxiety through you.
You replayed everything in your head, scanning for mistakes, for signs. She hadn't said anything outright, but that only made it worse. If she had found something, she wouldn't confront you about it—not Jenna. No, she'd let it fester, trying to give you space, trying not to pry. But that didn't mean she wouldn't act differently.
And she was acting differently.
Even the silence between you felt louder than it should have, thick and charged with something unspoken. You'd always been able to sit comfortably with her in quiet moments, sharing space without the need to fill it. But this wasn't that. This was an entirely different kind of silence, one that pressed down on you like a weight you couldn't shrug off.
Your mind raced, chasing every possible scenario. Maybe she'd pieced it together herself, noticed more than you thought. Jenna wasn't oblivious.
She'd seen you brush off dinner more often than not, heard the cough that hadn't gone away, seen how you'd flinched the other day when she wrapped her arms around your ribs from behind. She'd even asked, once or twice, if everything was okay.
"You're sure you're fine?" she'd said a few nights ago, her brows knitting together in concern as you forced down a glass of water to stop the coughing fit. You'd laughed, waved her off, told her you'd been pushing yourself too hard at work.
And maybe she'd believed you. Or maybe she hadn't.
The thought gnawed at you as you stared out the window, the glow of passing streetlights streaking across your vision.
You turned to look at her, and for a moment, she felt impossibly far away. She was still Jenna, your Jenna, but there was a distance now, something fragile and strange sitting between you. Her profile was calm, unreadable, her lips pressed into a line that wasn't quite a frown but wasn't a smile, either.
You tried to convince yourself that you were imagining things, that your own guilt and nerves were making you see something that wasn't there. But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling.
When she finally pulled into the restaurant parking lot and shifted the car into park, she sat there for a moment, her hands still on the wheel.
"You okay?" she asked, her voice steady but quieter than usual.
"Yeah," you answered quickly, too quickly. "You?"
"Of course," she said, the words slipping out a fraction too fast.
Her smile came next, bright but brittle, like it might crack if you looked at it too closely. And as she turned away, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for her purse, you caught a glimpse of something in her eyes—hesitation, maybe, or something close to it.
You didn't know what it meant, but it lingered, heavy in your chest, as the two of you made your way inside.
The restaurant was warm and softly lit, the kind of place where the low hum of conversation mixed with the faint clink of silverware on plates. You'd picked it because it was one of your usual spots—familiar, comfortable, with memories stitched into every corner. But tonight, none of that comfort seemed to settle in.
You couldn't stop picturing how the night might unfold, how Jenna might react once you finally told her. Would she cry? Would she be mad—at you, at the world, at herself for not noticing sooner? Would she try to fix it, as if sheer determination could somehow erase what was already happening?
The thought of her being mad was the one that stuck, looping endlessly in your mind. Would she think you'd waited too long to tell her?
Or worse, would she be upset that you'd told her at all, that you'd burdened her with something so heavy when her life was already so full?
You could see it so clearly—her soft features hardening, her voice laced with frustration as she asked why you hadn't come to her sooner. Why you hadn't trusted her enough.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your nerves from spiraling further out of control. But it didn't help that Jenna was acting off. You'd been together for two and a half years—long enough to notice when something wasn't right. And tonight, something definitely wasn't right.
She was trying, you'd give her that. She smiled when the waiter brought the menus, chatted with him about the specials like she always did, and even reached across the table to brush her fingers lightly over yours. But her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, and her touches felt more like a distraction than a comfort.
When the waiter came back to take your drink orders, she didn't hesitate. "A glass of the house red," she said, her voice steady, almost automatic.
You were about to do the same—it was your thing, after all. A little tradition you'd fallen into on dates like this. But the doctor's voice echoed in your mind: Avoid alcohol, caffeine, anything that might add strain. So instead, you said, "I'll just have a Diet Coke, please."
Jenna's head snapped up, her brows knitting together as she looked at you. "No wine?" she asked, her tone light but curious. "Since when do you skip wine?"
You scrambled for an excuse, heat rushing to your face as you waved it off. "Just... not feeling it tonight. Wanted something lighter."
Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, like she didn't quite believe you but wasn't going to press the issue. "Alright," she said, leaning back in her chair. But there was a flicker of something in her expression—confusion, maybe, or concern. You couldn't tell.
As she turned her attention back to the menu, you tried to steady your breathing, but your chest felt tight. You knew she noticed things, little things, even when you thought you'd been careful. And now you couldn't help but wonder if she was piecing them together in real time, one by one, until the truth clicked into place.
You looked down at your hands, twisting the napkin in your lap as the nerves swirled in your stomach.
You weren't sure how much longer you could keep this up—pretending everything was fine, acting like tonight was just another date. Because it wasn't. And you weren't sure how to tell her that without everything breaking apart.
And still, you couldn't shake the feeling that she already knew.
But you tried to keep the conversation going, forcing yourself to focus on Jenna and not on the crushing weight of your own nerves.
She talked about work, the projects she was excited for, the roles she'd recently turned down. You asked questions, nodded at all the right times, even laughed softly when she mentioned something funny one of her co-stars had done. But the way she was looking at you—it made it impossible to relax.
Her gaze was soft, too soft, like she was trying to protect you with just her eyes.
There was a sympathy there, gentle and unspoken, that only made your stomach churn harder. Did she already know? Had she pieced it all together? The thought gnawed at you, turning every word you said into an effort just to keep up the act.
By the time the food arrived, you were too nervous to eat. The plate in front of you looked like it belonged to someone else—steaming, perfectly plated, entirely untouched.
You picked at it, moving the food around your plate, but your appetite had vanished. Every nerve in your body was screaming, the weight of what you were about to say threatening to crush you.
You didn't understand why. You loved Jenna. You loved her more than you could ever put into words.
She was the reason you smiled when you didn't feel like it, the reason your laughter didn't sound hollow. She was the first person you thought about when you woke up and the last one before you fell asleep. She was your person.
And that's why you had to tell her.
You told yourself that over and over again. This wasn't just about you. Jenna deserved to know. If there was anyone you wanted to be the first to hear, it was her.
Not a friend, not a family member—Jenna. Because no matter how terrifying this was, no matter how much it hurt, she was the one who deserved to know the truth.
You tried to convince yourself that it didn't matter how she'd react, that you'd find a way to deal with whatever came next. Whether she stayed, whether she left, whether she cursed you out for not telling her sooner—it didn't matter.
This illness was a part of you now. There was no escaping it, no undoing it, no pretending it wasn't there. And if Jenna didn't want to stay, you'd have to accept that, too. But you couldn't let her find out some other way. You had to be the one to tell her, no matter how hard it was.
A little while into the dinner, you glanced up from your untouched plate, the words balanced precariously on the tip of your tongue. You were going to tell her. Right now.
But then you noticed Jenna again. She was fiddling with the edge of her napkin, her fingers smoothing and crumpling it over and over.
She hadn't touched her wine glass in minutes, though she'd ordered it with enthusiasm. And when she wasn't fidgeting with the napkin, she was twisting her bracelet up and down her wrist or tapping her nails lightly against the table.
Her nervousness was palpable, radiating off her in waves. And it made you pause.
She looked like she already knew. Like she was bracing herself for something—maybe for you to say it out loud. The realization only made your own nerves spike higher, your throat tightening as you tried to steady yourself.
What if she was waiting for this moment? What if she'd guessed and had been dreading it ever since? It was impossible to tell, but the thought made the words stick in your throat, suddenly too heavy to push out.
You took a shaky breath, gripping the edge of the table to ground yourself, but the question remained, lingering in your mind like a storm cloud: Did she already know.
The silence between you was thick and unyielding, like a barrier you couldn't push through. You stared at your untouched plate, willing yourself to speak, to just get it over with. Your heart hammered in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something vast and terrifying.
Just say it, you told yourself. You've rehearsed this a hundred times. Just say it.
But the words didn't come.
Your throat felt dry, the air between you charged with everything unsaid. And then, in that fragile quiet, you finally opened your mouth, the beginnings of your confession trembling on your lips.
"I—"
You barely got the first sound out before Jenna interrupted you.
"I need to talk to you about something."
Her voice cut through the moment like a sharp blade, and your eyes snapped up to meet hers. She froze, realizing she'd interrupted, her brow furrowing in apology.
"Sorry," she said quickly, her hands lifting slightly as if to physically backpedal. "You go first."
The tension in her expression, the nervous energy radiating off her, should've made you more anxious. But instead, you felt a wave of relief so profound it nearly knocked the breath out of you.
You didn't want to say it.
You didn't want to tell her, to put it into words, to make it real. Because once you said it out loud, there'd be no going back.
The illness that had already seeped into every corner of your life, consuming your thoughts and your body, would become something undeniable. And it wasn't just your burden anymore—it would become hers, too.
So you nodded quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, it's okay. You go."
Jenna hesitated, her eyes scanning yours as if to make sure you meant it. Then, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, she shifted in her seat, her fingers tangling together in her lap.
You watched her, noticing for the first time how truly nervous she looked. Her hands moved constantly, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, twisting her bracelet, pressing her palms flat against her thighs.
For a fleeting moment, your mind latched onto something completely irrational: Was she going to propose?
The thought felt absurd, but it burrowed into your brain anyway. The way she was avoiding eye contact, the way her fingers clasped and unclasped like she was gripping something small—it all seemed so... deliberate. Like she was holding onto something important.
You could almost picture it: a velvet box, hidden in her jacket pocket, the hinge creaking as she opened it to reveal something glittering and perfect. Her nervousness would make sense then. Proposing was a big deal, a life-changing moment, and Jenna would want to get it exactly right.
It had to be that. Maybe it was wishful thinking, your mind scrambling for anything to distract you from your own nerves, but for a second, you almost let yourself believe it.
Then Jenna spoke, and it all came crashing down.
She didn't look at you right away. Her gaze dropped to her lap, where her hands were still fidgeting, and she swallowed hard before starting. "I've been thinking about this for a while," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the restaurant.
Your stomach dropped.
Her words were slow, halting, like she was trying to choose them carefully but wasn't quite sure how. She glanced up at you briefly, her eyes heavy with something you couldn't place—sympathy, maybe, or regret—before looking down again.
"It's just..." She paused, exhaling shakily. "With everything going on—with my career, and the projects, and traveling all the time... it's a lot. And I know it's not fair to you."
You didn't respond. You couldn't.
"I'm barely home," she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "And when I am, I'm... distracted. By work, by everything I have to do. I feel like I'm constantly being pulled in a million different directions, and no matter how hard I try, I can't... I can't give you the time or attention you deserve."
Her hands tightened in her lap, her knuckles pale against her skin. She looked up at you again, forcing herself to meet your gaze even though it clearly took effort.
"You've been so patient with me," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "So understanding, even when I didn't deserve it. And I hate that. I hate that I've let things get to this point, where I feel like I'm failing you."
She gulped, her Adam's apple bobbing as she struggled to steady herself. "I've been thinking about this for a long time," she repeated, almost as if she was trying to convince herself now.
The words hung heavy between you, suffocating in their weight.
"I just... I think it's for the best if we—if we break up."
The final words came out like a whisper, but they might as well have been a shout. They echoed in your head, over and over, until they drowned out everything else.
She was still looking at you, her expression raw and vulnerable, waiting for you to say something—anything. But you couldn't.
Because in that moment, it felt like the ground had opened up beneath you, pulling you into a freefall you couldn't escape.
For a moment, you couldn't even process what she'd said. It didn't feel real, couldn't feel real. The restaurant around you blurred into nothing—voices faded into static, the clinking of plates and glasses became a distant hum. All you could hear was the sound of her words echoing in your mind.
Break up.
You blinked, and suddenly your throat was tight, your chest heavy, and your vision stung with tears threatening to spill over. You tried to swallow, but it felt like there was a lump lodged in your throat, growing bigger with every second of silence that passed.
All you could manage was a quiet, broken, "Oh."
It was barely a sound, barely anything at all, but it carried everything. All the confusion, the hurt, the disbelief—it was packed into that one syllable that trembled out of you. And the moment it escaped, you felt like you were collapsing from the inside out.
Your hands trembled slightly as they rested on your lap, and you clenched them into fists to steady yourself.
But it didn't work. Your chest felt like it was caving in, your stomach churning violently as if you were going to be sick. You suddenly felt more ill than you'd ever felt before, like every bit of strength you had left was being drained out of you all at once.
You blinked again, and a tear slid down your cheek before you even realized you were crying.
Jenna didn't look away.
Her gaze stayed locked on you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and that only made it worse. It made your chest tighten further, your throat burn hotter. Because why was she crying? Why was she crying?
If she thought this was the right thing to do, if she believed that breaking up was the solution, then why did she look like she was on the verge of breaking, too?
The thought stirred something sharp and bitter in your chest—something close to anger.
You didn't want to be angry, not at her. You loved her more than anything, more than yourself, more than anything you'd ever known in this world. But in that moment, it bubbled up anyway, unbidden and ugly.
How could she say this was for the best and look like she was about to cry? How could she sit there, tearing you apart with her words, and act like she felt guilty about it? Like she didn’t want to do this but was doing it anyway.
If she didn't want to do it, then why was she?
Your hands unclenched, trembling as you wiped hastily at your face, trying to erase the tears that kept coming. But it was no use. They kept falling, hot and relentless, leaving tracks down your cheeks that you couldn't hide, even if you tried.
"Okay," you whispered, though it wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. But you didn't have anything else to say. Your mind felt blank, empty except for the deafening echo of her words and the ache that spread through your chest like wildfire.
Your lips parted like you were about to say more, but nothing came out. There was so much you wanted to ask, to scream, to cry, but the weight of it all held you frozen. You could only sit there, staring at her through the blur of your tears, wondering how it had come to this.
Why now? Why like this? Why, after everything you'd been through together, was this the moment it all fell apart?
Your heart felt like it was breaking, splintering into a million pieces you didn't know how to put back together.
You stared at her, searching her face for something—anything—that might explain this, that might soften the blow. But all you saw was sadness and guilt and resolve. And that, more than anything, made you feel like you might throw up.
You didn't know how to respond—what could you say? Everything felt so wrong, so heavy, and all you could do was sit there, your throat too tight to speak, your heart too shattered to form words.
And Jenna, maybe out of nervousness or guilt—or both—began to ramble again. Her voice was softer now, tinged with a slight tremor, like she was trying to steady herself but couldn't quite manage it.
"I—I've just been thinking about this a lot," she said, her words spilling out in a way that didn't quite connect. "With... everything. My work, how busy it's been, and I don't know. I've been trying to figure it out, and it's like—like maybe it's just too much."
Her fingers fidgeted in her lap, twisting her rings and pressing into her palm as if she could ground herself that way.
Her gaze flicked up to you, then away, then back again. She looked like she was searching for something—understanding, forgiveness, anything—but couldn't seem to hold your eyes for more than a second at a time.
"It's not that I don't care," she added quickly, almost desperately, her words tripping over themselves. "You know I do. You know I care about you so much, and that's why—" She stopped mid-sentence, pressing her lips together hard, her brows furrowing like she didn't know how to finish the thought.
Her voice was uneven when she started again. "I just—everything's so complicated right now. With filming, with traveling, and—and I feel like..." Her words faltered again, and she let out a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of her own thoughts was too much.
Her sentences were fragmented, scattered, like she didn't fully know how to explain herself. It wasn't an argument, wasn't a definitive declaration—it was just... messy.
And that made it worse.
Because nothing she was saying felt concrete, nothing felt like a real reason. It was all just vague, unfinished thoughts that left you sitting there, trying to piece together what she actually meant. Trying to figure out if she even knew what she was saying.
Jenna swallowed hard, her throat bobbing as she glanced down at her lap again. "I don't know how else to say it," she murmured, almost to herself, her voice barely audible.
But that didn't make it any clearer.
All you could do was sit there, still frozen, still unable to speak, as she rambled on, her words tangling together in a way that felt more like she was trying to convince herself than explain anything to you.
And it felt like every word she said was chipping away at something inside you, leaving you raw and exposed and aching.
You couldn't even process the idea of why she was doing this, because she wasn't giving you a reason—she was just... saying things. Vague, messy things that didn't feel like they added up to anything but heartbreak.
"What were you going to say?" She asked, clearly getting the point of her rambling not helping anybody at the table. You felt your stomach twist violently. Her tone was soft, hesitant, like she was trying to patch the cracks she'd just shattered into existence, but it only made everything worse.
You stared at her, your heart thudding heavily in your chest. Was she serious? Did she really think she could just ask that now—after everything—and act like it hadn't happened? Like you weren't sitting here, choking on the weight of her words, trying to make sense of it all?
You couldn't believe it. And yet, part of you could. This was so her—to try and smooth it all over, to shove the pieces of normalcy back into place even when it was painfully obvious they didn't fit anymore. But you could see it in her face, in the way her lips trembled and her eyes flicked nervously over your expression. She knew it wasn't working. She knew this was ridiculous.
Still, you couldn't answer right away. Because, what could you even say?
What you were going to say—what you needed to say—wasn't something you could tell her now. Not after this. Not after she'd sat across from you and torn everything apart, leaving you to sit here, raw and exposed, trying to make sense of her fragmented reasoning.
You couldn't tell her. You couldn't tell her that you were sick. Because now it would look like a desperate attempt to make her stay, to guilt her into taking it all back. And that was the last thing you wanted.
No—more than that, it would make it real. Actually real. Saying the words out loud, to her of all people, in this moment, would make it something you couldn't take back. And you weren't ready for that. You weren't ready for any of it.
"It was nothing," you muttered, your voice flat and quiet, barely recognizable as your own. You stared at the table, refusing to meet her eyes, because the weight of her gaze was too much to bear. "Just... nothing important."
You hoped she'd leave it at that, though you could tell from the way her expression softened into something unbearably sympathetic that she didn't believe you. She was probably going to ask again, probably going to try to dig deeper, but you couldn't give her more. Not now. Not like this.
She didn't press you for more, but the silence that followed felt louder than anything she could have said. You didn't look at her, didn't dare, because you knew what you'd see—concern, confusion, maybe even guilt—and you couldn't take it. Not after everything.
You tried to focus on the table in front of you, the half-empty glass of soda that had gone warm, the plate of untouched food that suddenly felt miles away. But your mind wouldn't stop racing.
This wasn't how you'd imagined it. None of it.
All the words you'd rehearsed, the courage you'd spent all day building, the carefully planned moment—it was gone now, swept away like it had never existed. And no matter how much you wanted to, no matter how desperately you wished you could take it all back, it was too late.
Too late to say what you'd come here to say. Too late to stop what she'd said instead. Too late to fix whatever had been shattered between you tonight.
And now, you'd have to face it all alone.
The waiting rooms. The cold sterility of hospital walls. The appointments that stretched on longer than the days themselves. You'd prepared yourself for those things, or at least tried to, but you'd never prepared for doing it without her.
You couldn't blame her. You wouldn't. But that didn't make it hurt any less.
You swallowed hard, willing the tears to stay put, and reached for your glass, if only to give your hands something to do. The carbonation fizzed on your tongue, sharp and bitter, but you barely tasted it.
And as Jenna's gaze lingered on you, hesitant and uncertain, you told yourself the same thing you'd been trying to believe all night.
You would be fine. You had to be.
Because now, it was too late to say otherwise.
#jenna ortega x reader#tara carpenter#tara carpenter x reader#vada cavell x reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x fem!reader#wednesday addams x reader#mabel x reader#melissa barrera x reader#sam carpenter
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Before I Leave You (Pt.77)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Tae and Hobi help Yoongi during your first wave of heat.
Tags: Yoongi x Tae x Hobi x m/c, Dom! Yoongi, dom! tae, switch! hobi, Sub! m/c, Foursome, heat sex, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, fertility kink, control kink, mommy kink, talking her through it, dirty talk, exhibitionism and Voyeurism, teasing, flirting, biting, a tiny hint of mind break, a bit of pillow riding, dumbification kink, size kink, dirty talk, hole check, inspection kink, fluffy smut, no hurt just comfort, okay slight hurt because Hobi has anxiety, coming prematurely, cum play, sleepy sex, brief referenced Somnophilia,
W/c: 14.4k
A/n: thank you guys for being so tolerant of my brief absense, i didn't intend to take so long to update this but unfortunately sometimes living through historical events can be really tough to get through. i can't belive we made it to the 77th chapter! i always thought it would be nice to get to this point because you know- seven is bts's number <3 bily is way too long lol
Previous part- Masterlist - First part
The hunger of the heat finds no respite and no quiet, not even under darkness where lovers touch finds seemly eyes blind. Your descent into fever is fairly controlled given how long it's been since you've gone into heat. It's gentle even as your body surrenders itself completely to your instincts.
But there is nothing dirty to it. Nothing that leaves you feeling filthy and used. Going into heat with the pack leaves you feeling clean of your insecurities and anxiety. The last little bit that clings to you burned out by the heat like Bitter weeds burned out so that sweet tall growing love can take the place of the barren fields.
It’s easy to burn. Lights just like that.
The next three and a half days progress in a haze of lust and love and comfort. If asked, you’re not sure that you could articulate just what it’s like- the thrall of heat. The fever that burns through you, simmers your bones to dry kindling and hungry wind. The fire that craves not for food or water or air, just their touch. Just them.
I would love to say that your, Jungkook and Jin’s heat goes well- but in all reality it doesn’t. In reality- it’s a bit of a shit show.
One omega in heat is generally chaotic, but 3 is a horny hurricane of slick, cum, and tears. Your packmates are bound to get exhausted at one point and fail to fulfill your needs through the own simple fragility of their bodies. Your alphas aren’t indestructible or immune from exhaustion, as much they like to pretend otherwise.
Normally Jin and Jungkook are a bit of a handful. On account of being a little older, Jin is sweet but a little demanding.
Willing to scruff the alphas just to sit on their knots and all but bully Namjoon into letting him hog his (Something that Namjoon only sometimes allows.) Possessive and protective of them. Often sleeping with one hand pressed to Namjoon’s stomach, his throat, or when the heat fever spikes particularly high- wrapped around his knot. Protecting it, keeping it safe. To make sure no one steals it.
Jin gets incurably sleepy during his heats, Awake one moment and fast asleep the next. Easily worn out. Jin’s pout is never far from his plush lips, eyes always about to narrow when someone denies him his requests (usually for his own good).
Jin has asked for…strange things in heat before. For the alpha’s to breed each other, knock each other up. For them to knot his jaw if they won't knot his hole (often already occupied). Stuff like that.
But he’s softer sometimes. More maternal. Checking their bodies obsessively for wounds, keeping them in the nest no matter if they need to eat or pee or go let Noodle out the back. Licking their scent glands raw to soothe until the heat fever burns so bright that he can’t resist any longer.
By comparison, Jungkook is a big bunny rabbit.
Insatiable and energized with every wave of heat, Jungkook turns twitchy and needy in the heat fever. Just as happy to bounce on a knot as he is to take a pounding. Jungkook requires stamina, Jungkook requires energy. Often laconic or non-verbal. Jungkook does not like it soft, likes hair pulling and biting and his knees scraping against the nest. Pulled from one knot to the next.
The pack is no stranger to waking up to Jungkook astride them, powerful thighs straining to lift himself up and down in the omega’s half-asleep state, sleep fucking his way to an orgasm. Their pj's pulled low or ripped if he's eager enough. Cute little gasps echo off the tall ceilings as he takes his pleasure at a dreamy pace. One of the alpha’s staring up at him sleepy, stretched out, happy to have a bit of a break from moving.
Jin honestly doesn’t know where all the energy comes from.
Sometimes the pack tie him up and fill his holes with some silicone just to get a break. With barely 10 minutes between his heat spikes at his worst. He’s willing to take anything- a spank to his cock, a knot meanly fucked in and out of his hole all loose when he’s too far gone. Anything and everything until the spikes get less searing and the fire ebbs from flames to embers.
Edging and overstimulation are the pack’s best friends when it comes to Jungkook’s heats. That’s what Jungkook needs; to whine and whimper and flinch at every touch until it’s worn out of him. Until pleasure becomes pain and then goes back again. Flip-flopping until Jungkook can’t tell if it hurts too much to keep going or if it feels too good to stop.
It’s a good thing he’s equally soothed with a plastic knot as a real one, that he’s happy so long as he’s filled and plugged up so that no cum escapes. Precious and warm and his alpha’s gift. Evidence of their claim and devotion.
Evidence too of what bonds the omega’s together.
Nestmates do this, they take their breeding together in their nest during a heat. That’s what’s good and right. What Jungkook’s instincts crave. There is safety in numbers. The more pups the better.
(never mind the fact that out of heat, jungkook plans to be pupfree forever thank you very much).
But everyone knows not to take the things said during a heat seriously. that all that talk of breeding and pups is just that- talk. what matters is the devotion and the sentiment. Yes I am planning on keeping you forever. No you don't have to worry if I'll love you forever, let me claim you, let me show you in a way that matters.
It’s cute even if it is a little gross, how possessive omegas can get of alpha cum during heats. Their bellies going swollen and messy with it. A little plug does wonders to soothe any of Jungkook’s discomfort. A spank to his hole before one is shoved in even more so. The cherry on top.
The pack has learned how to meet his needs well, even at the expense of their own. That’s one thing that separates your alpha’s from the others, they don’t think about their own pleasure at all, they don’t think about their own needs- only yours.
I want to share my side of the nest with you, I want to talk you through it- the pain and the pleasure. I want you to feel love in every kiss, every bite.
The pack has wondered many times over the last year where you fit on the spectrum from bratty to obedient, from lethargic to energized.
Would you pout and whine like Jk? Bouncing on their knots for a bit of reprieve? Or would you be like Jin- bratty and needy in all the best ways? A princess and the pee, the omega and the knot. It’s all very fairytale.
But compared to Jin and Jungkook, you’re a bit of an angel.
They thought after so long your heat would hit hard, that your body would make up for time lost and leave it long and drawn out and brutal. That your lack of heat for so many years would reward you with spikes that never end and pleasure that went too far. That it would be rough.
Yoongi would never want to abandon the others, but even he has to admit that you need to be his priority sometimes. You’re more delicate than the others. That is a fact that he's never been able to ignore.
But he need not worry. If anything, your heat just makes you more gentle, soft, and round at the edges where your anxiety and fear can sometimes turn you a bit prickly.
Something about the heat just wears all of your energy out of you, makes you sleepy and soft, hurtling down through Omegaspace so far that you can’t really feel anything if it’s not good, brain a mess of good pup, good alphas breed good puppies, knot good puppies too, pup pup pups.
You are completely pliant and suggestible. Tears forever hovering on the edge of your waterline summoned by the slightest edge of disapproval. Good, you just want to be good. To part your legs and let them have the sweetness between them. You don’t need to be needy; you hardly even need to ask before someone is there. Someone is always always there.
The need builds to a fever's pitch, a fire burning through you. You’ve never felt so touch-starved before. Your skin dimpling with gooseflesh the second you feel even the slightest warmth, the slighted brush of possible body heat. There is something frantic in you, the hot flush crawling under your skin that stills only when they touch you.
Is this what overstimulation feels like to Jimin? Is this what he feels like when he holds Tae? does he feel the same sense of lingering relief? You watch the ceiling spin as Yoongi heaves you up. Everything is in slow motion. Putting it together second by second. Everything slow and drippy like syrup.
The thing about omega's in heat is that they're a little bit dumb.
Like, there's no way that you could have ever conceivably run away from Yoongi and Tae and Hobi, no way that you could have escaped given your small size and their height. your run is doomed from the start.
The heat hormones are a little intense, a little hard to thing through.
You can't get over how good the pack’s hands feel, how calloused and intentional, bird bones and painted nails. Slightly rough and always firm. Calloused between the thumb and forefinger from pencils or firearms.
They’re always so gentle. So gentle that you feel every touch as not hunger but love instead. Maybe that’s what heats are? The need for love and pack sated by your bodies, that would find no satisfaction in it otherwise. There is no lust without love for any of you. You wouldn’t have gone into heat without them and their tender love and care. The love has always been there and this is no different.
You don’t have to question if they need you and want you the same way that you do. The scent of arousal is heady on the air, not just from the omega’s- but from them too. You can scent it; how they’re feeling. Their hunger.
It’s as if they've just come from in from out of the cold. It conjures up images of warm fires inside honeyed houses, of someone washing your face and you trust them not to get soap in your eyes, of waking up in the nest with your eyes still closed, the warmth all around you. Someone buttoning up your coat. Something warm and sweet to eat in your hands, sugar on the edge of your tongue, crystals of sweetness glittering and dusting deserts like starlight.
Only you are that sweet thing, you are that warmth. Your alpha's are the ones that have come in from the cold.
There’s this mischievous victorious edge to Jimin’s scent, the vanilla sweeter and smokier than usual. The concerned edge to Hobi's- the caramel all warm and melty but with a sharp hint- like his anxiety has turned syrupy by proximity to the omega’s in heat. The calm edge to Tae's; roses in the morning, cinnamon sugar sweetness for breakfast even if it will spoil you for later.
But Namjoon- you hiccup when you breathe it in too deep. A shudder runs down your spine.
Namjoon smells so much richer than usual. Mouthwatering and potent. Dangerous and musky. Namjoon smells like a threat and a promise. Like a storm coming that you cannot evade. Namjoon smells like an ache. Your lungs flutter around it, your breath going heavy, and your eyes roll back briefly.
You feel drunk on it, almost tipsy from it. So good that just catching it in the air makes you slick up, and it turns the tops of your thighs all glossy underneath the big shirt you wear, the big shirt that gets pulled this way and that when Yoongi and Hobi and Tae pick you up and drag you from the hallway into the nest room.
You squirm, trying to get to him at the end of the hall as they move you. Their single-minded focus is getting you somewhere safe and comfortable even as the fever climbs and climbs. Your skin turning hot beneath their touch so quickly that they share nervous glances.
One moment your skin is sweet warm to the touch, the next your pulse is racing and you’re burning up. Cheeks pink, temples damp. Your pupils are so dilated it turns your eyes dark and glassy, so little of their usual color visible.
You’d be worried and teary at Hobi's scent but it’s just so fun.
You’re having a hard time holding onto your worry. Being restrained by them feels like playing this way. His hands go hard around your wrists as you push and giggle. His thin bones pressed to your fragile ones. Grinning up at them a little feral, a little heat addled.
You try to push and roll away futilely, unable to put any real force behind it as Tae grabs your ankles and Yoongi takes you around your middle. You catch sight of his grin as you squirm. And his hands go harder around your waist. Pausing to tickle at your ribs before they toss you- a little unceremoniously- into the center of the nest.
Your body is bare from their touch for about two seconds but you still don't like it. No sooner has a whine started to build in your throat. Nuckles brushing the nest, belly up, staring up at them dazed. Then your alphas and mate descend on you. Depressing the nest with their knees and feet, rushing and hurrying to cover you.
The whole house is full of the sound of snarls, wet slaps, and the burning haze of arousal. The hormones drip to a slow build. Setting everyone on edge. Even Yoongi breathes through his teeth. You try to kick at Tae's thigh just for fun but pull back once Yoongi’s fingers scrape your ankle in warning.
Tae doesn’t seem to like your squirming, taking your wrists in both of her hands and pressing them into the nest until you feel it in the bones of your wrists. With firmness comes clarity.
Holy fuck. Tae's so hot.
Her hair spills over her face and her eyes are dark. The hem of her dress pulls low, and you try to lean up to nuzzle into it, lips curled into a snarl, a laugh. You could bite her. You want to bite her. You try too- but it’s hard to bite her when all you want to do is laugh.
Yoongi's fingers continue to tickle against your ribs, laughing and giggling through your very first spike of heat, ticklish. Squirming, held down until your breath goes ragged and you sag back against the nest, your surrender is just as sweet as the rest of you. You're so dizzy you're unable to fight against them. The heat zoomies worn out of you.
You laugh until you hiss. Curling to the side just a little as you double over in pain. A wave racks through you. Burning and stinging from your stomach outwards.
Yoongi stills, one hand on your knee, eyes wide. Tae lets your wrists go so you can clutch at your stomach. Holding your face through it. Hobi's hand is hard on your shoulder, knuckles white, expression stricken but unsure.
"Oh my little honey, don't worry, we'll make it better, shh just-" She's a little more panicky than the rest of them are. Her hand goes to Yoongi’s hip, his waistline, all but tugging at his shorts as if to say ‘do something.'
Yoongi holds your stomach too. Alarmed by your trembling. "Are you- do you need-“a knot, hovers on the edge of his tongue.
But you just blink. “Yoongi- it's too much- it burns- Sore- so sore here.” You touch your stomach gently, but it's so sensitive it still makes you hiss, eyes watering. Yoongi's hands slowly press to yours, flat, long fingers covering yours.
It's gone as quick as it comes, the wave ebbing after a stiff peak. And after a moment with more of Tae's shushing. You relax, stretching back out in the nest. Breathing heavily until you aren't. Until the cramping and the aching need want need to be filled in your head quiets.
Yoongi's fingers swirl on your stomach, gently. It's sensitive, but it actually does make you feel better. “You ran, do you want us to wait for Namjoon or-" You’re already shaking your head no when Yoongi cuts off. Letting your legs flop open so that he can shuffle forward closer. Nudging at the back of his hips with your heels.
You don't wonder why Yoongi mentions Namjoon. He's the pack alpha, and the right to breed you first in heat is his as dictated by old laws and rules. It’s stupid, but it’s instinctual. If you weren't mated, Yoongi might be tempted to ask Namjoon for permission.
Yoongi huffs at the mere idea of it.
But Namjoon isn't like that. He cares about your wants first. His own ego is very far down on his list of priorities and probably ranks just after Noodle's well-being in terms of Namjoon's pack alpha running task list.
Dominance is its own kind of submission.
And, judging by Jin's snarling from the other room- he'll be preoccupied for at least the next hour. You don't know if you can wait that long. A whine drips out of you, a sound small and weak. The fire starts to tickle in your tummy, insistent.
Hobi shuffles closer to you. Bare-chested, his red shorts looking tight. Looking unsure. "You did run, do you not want-" us, does not come out.
You shift, futile in your efforts to try and get comfortable, it's impossible with the weight of your instincts pinning you down, the pervasive ache that's sort of everywhere.
“Nah, just ran cuz it’s fun. Not cuz I didn’t want you to fuck me.”
Yoongi huffs and Hobi's grin cracks. His anxiety dissipates, fond with it. Yoongi's fingers itch up your thighs, parting them just a little so that he can shuffle forward closer to you. Until you can feel the heat from his tummy against yours.
You can feel so much. Your whole body one big nerve ending. You can feel the slight fluff and softness of the peach fuzz on his tummy dragging against yours as he gets closer. The feel of his slender but strong fingers circling your ankles. All of it.
You like this, you always like it when Yoongi's close.
“Glad we cleared that up, it’s not like I can’t literally see you slicking up but-“ you laugh and try and swat at him. He drops one of your ankles to catch your hand and tangles it with his for good measure.
A small smile hovers on the edge of his lips. He searches your face, smiling at what he sees your dopey smile and endeared indignation. The heat might be new, but this is so familiar his heart aches with it.
“If you’re gonna tease me while I’m in heat can you at least make it good?” Your breath goes heavy. Warm and sweet, fluffing over him. Everything; the sweetness to your scent, the ruddiness of your knees, the messy fluff of your hair over the pastel pillow, and the relaxed sprawl of your body is a siren song for Yoongi.
Above you Tae and Hobi stay quiet. Just watching. Tae drags a lock of your hair away from your face. Patient while you and Yoongi flirt.
“I thought you liked my teasing.”
Your tone sounds petulant even to you, “I do just not-”
Yoongi presses your knees apart, up towards your chest abruptly cutting off your words as you let out a broken moan. He puts a bit more force behind it than usual, putting you on display, spread. The hem of your shirt hides nothing as you feel yourself clench and his gaze flickers down.
“There you are, now I can see that you like it.” Your entrance looks swollen and pink but inviting. Winking at him. Tae perks up, looking not at you but down.
“Fuck don’t-“ you strain. Palming at his hands, inarticulate.
“What? Don’t you want them to see how messy you are? How messy you get for us. You make it so cute when you slick up without meaning to, so flustered.” The dirty talk makes your bones crack like kindling, makes you gush fresh.
The smile on his face widens just a bit, and you hiccup through the shudder that rocks through you. Your body burns, your stomach churns, and your skin simmers where he touches. Stoking your craving for more more more.
A breeding press. That's what Yoongi's just put you into. Knees to your chest, your sensitive heat slit ripe and wet between your thighs, ready for the taking. A breeding press in front of two alphas, in front of Tae and Hobi, watching with wide dark eyes. Your mate presents you for breeding. An invitation.
“Hold her.” Yoongi’s command is not snapped or growled out but Hobi and Tae follow suit regardless. Hobi fumbles, grabbing one wrist and Tae grabs the other.
Ready. Settled. It’s a bit of a strange show of dominance. But inside, Yoongi isn’t surprised that you needed a firm hand. To be held down and puppeted and propped. To know that they’re in control before you let your alpha's breed you.
He says your alphas- but he's the only one you're looking at. The only one you're whining for.
It’s hard to articulate your hands or your mind, tongue wrapped around a sound that can only be an endless whimper. Tae leans low when you try to squirm again. Her teeth nip at your ear, a shock to your system that makes you leak a fresh gush of slick half onto Yoongi's lap.
You have to be spilling and dripping by now. You try and press your legs back together and hide but Yoongi keeps you spread. His thumb skims the apex of your hips, the dewy fold between your thigh and pussy. Teasing.
“No pup, settle.”
You obey, unable not to. Sprawled there with them looming over you. Tae's fingers hover around your throat, manicured fingers rubbing soft against your scent gland, sensitive and tender. Achy. So achy you tilt your neck and show her your throat. Dizzy. The only thing solid is Yoongi’s hands and your instincts that tell you to try and get them closer.
Your instincts know what you need.
All of you sort of hurts. A bone-deep ache that has pinned you here as well as their touch. The ache that turns you free for them to poke and prod and love at. Each moment of their absence a physical wound, each kiss and brush of skin- a band-aid.
Belly down, you need to get belly down and show them. Need to show your alpha’s and your mate that you can be good- that you’re worth breeding. That you can take all of the love that they have to give and more.
You just can’t move your body; can’t make it cooperate- you feel so heavy and tired all of a sudden. Falling slack. All the fight going out of you.
“There you go, that wasn’t so hard now was it?” Yoongi’s voice is a deep purr.
You are missing things, the seconds slipping away as you start to sweat and whimper. You don’t see Hobi's stricken expression as tears start to gather at your waterline or Tae's eyes, dark but sympathetic. You don’t see or feel the way that Hobi trembles as he holds your wrists perfunctory now that you've gone limp.
But still, he holds you. the touch goes tender where moment's ago it had been firm. Hobi doesn't notice, Hobi doesn't see.
But Yoongi does. Yoongi sees all of it, holding your knees still, fingers rounding out over the bone, rubbing up and down your thighs, an inch higher with every pass, until the cool pads of his fingers are brushing your shirt. Shushing your whines as he shuffles between your legs and the meat of his thighs meets your ass. Shirt fluffing up to your belly button from this position.
If the other alphas smell good, then Yoongi is the heat in the back of your throat and the compass by which you fly home. Your scent spikes watching him settle on his knees between your legs, your toes pressed to his stomach still in your socks. White, to the upper ankle.
Yoongi takes them off, slow, fingers sliding over your calf. squeezing firmly, releasing the tension. Setting them to the side the way he'd fold laundry, casual, like he's not making you hiccup.
You can feel yourself clench when you register that there is hardness at the front of his shorts. Yoongi smells good, drippy, and chocolatey. You want him all over you. The fabric at the front of his boxers brushes your heat slit, rougher than the pads of his fingers, and you feel like you might just pass out.
Sensitive- your body is oversensitive. You can feel everything, the tickle of Hobi's breath as it hitches when he sees the mess between your legs. Sweet nectar to the hummingbird thunder of his heart in his fingers. Tae's soft growl rippling from her chest. Small chest vibrating with it.
Yoongi lets your hips relax and slides his hands up your hips to your waist instead. Bypassing where you’re sore for him entirely to go under your shirt, the rough pads of his fingers skimming up your midline as he says, “let’s get rid of this sweet honey.”
There are pet names everywhere. Pup, honey, little treat, sweetheart. On the edge of every line as he coaxes you to sit up. Sweetening every sentence. They’re unable not to add them, each nickname more loving than your own name.
How could you deny them the pleasure of it on their tongue. You like the way they say it, pup. Like you’re small and sweet and worth caring for. Worth claiming in a way that’s permanent like this. You trust them enough to see you like this, at your most vulnerable.
A shout comes from the hall. A loud repetitive smacking sound the backtrack to Yoongi’s deep satisfied hum. You toss your head to the side, looking towards the door with a loud whine. Hopeful to summon the other omegas here. Here where nothing is scary, and everything drips as slow as syrup on a cold day.
But you hear only hisses and snarls in response. A dark sound that becomes Jungkook’s giggle and something hitting the wall with a loud thud. A knee- or maybe someone’s hand.
The other omegas are not as easy to catch and soothe as you are. It will take one knotting each before the alpha’s manage to settle them and cajole them back into the nest. You go right away, no need to be disobedient.
Jin hisses loudly and goosebumps erupt on your arms. It has nothing to do with feeling cold on the contrary; the heat fever tears through you. You didn’t realize you were overheating until Yoongi disrobed you. Your mate is so good. So good at anticipating your needs. Guiding your shirt off of you with a gentle hum until Hobi can grab it and get it over your shoulders. All of this is so gentle.
Yoongi’s hands stay on your back, making you lie back down slowly, supporting you so that your abdominal muscles need not strain. Hobi tosses the shirt into some forgotten corner where it’s doomed to be used as a cum rag in the foreseeable future. You blink up at them, two of your alphas and your mate.
Why won’t they- why can’t you-
Yoongi’s hand presses flat against your stomach, quieting your sweet whines. You are entirely unselfconscious of your body like this, unaware of the marks or rolls on your body or the soft plush to your stomach. There is only Yoongi’s eyes on you, maintaining contact as he sets you back where he wants you. One hand on your shoulder, the other on your waistline.
Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes darting from place to place, feeling his hardness grow. You look so flushed and healthy, your body glowing from within from the fever. You look- you look-.
Yoongi cringes internally but you do look ready. Fertile and sweet and glowing from fever. Ready for pups, ready to be knocked up, ready for breeding. If Yoongi was an alpha, god help them all. He can’t imagine what it feels like to the others. To have you flushed and cute and willing like this.
What wouldn't he do? What wouldn't he give for your happiness?
What would Tae write about this moment? Yoongi imagines himself as a fly on the wall, a poem inside her head.
I think of you in all the softest colors, collect moments for you in the palm of my hand, give you love until its nicknacks and keepsakes, slip through my fingers, too many to count, your pocket and bowl overflowing. You are that, my overflow and my undertow, I dreamed of you, I dreamed for you, and yet, you are still here. My bedtime story, my good night kiss. the moon to my firefly, the sugar on cream.
For a second, he imagines it. You pregnant. You bred.
Your stomach round and taught. He imagines watching you get bigger and bigger until you're waddling around. Your chest sweetening with milk, already supple now nipples pebbling in the cold. To imagine them bigger is honestly- Yoongi cannot think about it without throbbing and twitching. The hardness a heavenly jut against your cunt. Just as weepy and needy as the rest of you.
You look so healthy too. A lump comes to Yoongi’s throat at the realization. You’d have it so easy carrying the pack’s pup like this. But even then- Yoongi wouldn’t let up, on the contrary. He'd probably rival Jin and namjoon in their protective instincts and their doting. He’d cave to all your cravings and leave in snow or rain and sleet to get you whatever your pregnancy cravings might ask.
He never thought he had a thing for it; pregnancy and breeding is more an alpha's wheelhouse but you…All round and full of them. It wouldn't even matter who got to you first, whose seed would take all of that is your choice.
But Yoongi imagines your scent going milky, imagines how sleepy and brody you'd get. He wonders if you'd take to carting one of your stuffed animals around. Would your instincts prepare you to cling to everything small and cute and soft?
He already treats you like fine china- but pupped? Your mate wouldn't let you lift a fucking finger. He decides right then, he won’t let you do a lick of the work in this heat. All of your pleasure should be by their hands shouldn’t it? That’s just an extension of love, right? Dictating what pleasure you get and if it’s enough- should be up to them- you clearly aren’t thinking straight enough to decide if you need a cock in your cunt. That should be left up to him.
(Clearly, the heat is getting to Yoongi)
Contraceptive, you took the contraceptive, didn't you? Yoongi should remember that. He shouldn't be so giddy for something that is impossible now and for all real likelihood may never happen or is years and years away. This is only your first heat. His instincts should honestly chill, he shouldn't be reacting the way the alpha's do.
Even if there is truly no harm in pretending.
Why does his chest feel so tight? Why do his muscles feel poised to fight? His pulse beats a little quicker, a little harder, as if in response to you.
Yoongi's breath goes deep and ragged. “My little honey.” He says, voice husky, and you squirm. A little happy. A little overwhelmed by all the attention.
He picks you by your hips, turning you over, guiding you to present the way that all good little omega’s do. Tummy down and ass up. You blink dazed as they move you, losing yourself a little more with each moment. Tae puts a pillow under your tummy and the crinkle of the waterproof pillowcase distantly assures you that whatever mess you make will not ruin the fun.
The room spins with the smell of them, the pet of Tae's fingers down your back as Yoongi spreads your knees so he can kneel between them. Stroking gently over your spine, pressing it to curve and arch for them.
“So good for us, so good presenting yourself, so so cute.” Her voice is quiet and honey-sweet. And you don’t know why but you suddenly feel like crying.
You want to cry in relief, you might actually cry over the praise. You are pinned there- beneath Yoongi’s touch and by his eyes as he looks down at you. He pauses to turn your cheek to the side so that he can better watch your face. Tae shuffles forward, picking your chest up and lying your half in her lap, your cheek resting just below the hem of her dress against her plush thighs. A predicament you've found yourself in many times.
You peer up at her, teary-eyed. Fists tangling with her dress, clinging to it, to her. You need something to steady you. Something to hold onto when your brain feels like a feather fluttering in the wind. Dazed and fuzzy. Omegaspace has never felt so intense before.
your lower lip juts out, glossy and pink. “Mommy it hurts.”
She bends low, pressing a kiss to your brow. The brush of her skin against yours makes you dizzy. It feels so good to be touched and loved like this. To feel someone touching your body so gently like it’s precious.
Who knows, maybe to them, you really are.
She nuzzles forward, her forehead finding yours. Her nose going that way then the other. Pecking your lips once, twice, and then again.
“I know pup, we’ll make it better.”
You whimper, and Tae sets your cheek against her thigh so that you can rest there through whatever happens next, one hand wraps around her ankle, and your other reaches back blindly to tangle with Hobi's.
Neither of them stops Yoongi. Neither of them tries to get in the way- it’s Yoongi’s right- as your mate- to do with you what he wishes during your heat. To fuck you this way and that. To take precedent and priority.
If only yoongi understood that.
Yoongi leans over you, letting his lap make contact with your ass, grinding forward almost immediately as you jerk back. You’ve never heard Yoongi sound so dark, his voice so rough.
“It’s so tough, isn’t it? Feeling so many instincts all at once huh? Being so small and scared right? You just wanted us to chase you, make sure we could catch you- make sure we’re worthy.”
He digs his fingers into your hip bones pressing you down into your knees. Your cheek turned to the side, nuzzling into the fabric of Tae's dress. You blink up at Tae dazed, eyes feasting on the way that her dress- flimsy and partially see-through- slips down her shoulders- pulled askew in your chasing.
From the hall- you hear the sound of groans and moans. You don’t know why your other nestmates don’t just come willingly. It feels so good, so soft and safe underneath you.
You didn’t think you could feel so safe.
Gone is the instinct to run, gone is the instinct to hide and cower- now all you can do is whine and part your legs, the ache there so deep there you feel it in your teeth. But Yoongi grinds his half-hidden hardness where you’re needy and sensitive. The fabric of his boxers quickly darken with slick. He doesn’t go quick, he savors it.
The fact that Yoongi doesn’t have a knot doesn’t cross your mind. Not even once. He’s still the first one you want.
…not the only one you want of course, but him first.
Yoongi cannot actually read your thoughts, so he leans low, pressing kiss after kiss into your spine, dragging his lips down to the dimples of your hips before he rises back on his knees. A look so soft in his eyes- Hobi and Tae feel a bit like they’re intruding on something.
“Whose knot should you take first honey, Taetae’s, or Hobi's? Or do you want me to decide for you? Tell me who you want, honey- anything.” He promises, voice husky. And Tae can tell he means it. Anything that you’d want right now, he’d give.
You whimper, shaking your head against Tae’s hand, her touch, a finger-popping into your mouth to sate your need to suck. You can’t speak- couldn’t even if you wanted to. But that’s alright, you’ve got packmates to do that for you.
“I don’t think she wants either of us Hyung,” she says, hushed, gentle in her tone- nothing in it telling her how hurt she is or if she’s even hurt at all at not being chosen first. You don’t catch the way that Yoongi’s eyebrows raise, the way his cheeks heat.
For all of his dirty talk earlier, he is completely surprised that it’s him and not alpha and a knot that you ask for first.
Oh, how intimate it is to be needed like this.
You look up at him, shy but needy, you need him- oh how you need him- you couldn’t imagine feeling this way without him here. Couldn’t imagine it feeling so good without his touch. The press of his palm on the small of your back, the rub of his thumb against your rib. It’s so much. It's too much.
You tug one arm underneath you under your chest, the other hovering, holding Hobi's hand behind you blindly. Your fingers, his fingers tangled. You rest your cheek on Tae's thigh and look back as Yoongi shuffles forward. The elastic of his boxers pulled down his hips. The head of his cock pink and glossy with pre-cum.
There is some scuffling in the hall too, a high-pitched “please please please” that can’t be Jin. You’ve never heard him sound desperate like that. Hobi's hot breath dusts the back of your neck.
Your eyes flutter closed as one of Yoongi’s hands leaves your waist to guide his cock. Only to shoot open again. Gasping at the familiar prod.
The thickness is just right, his body heat and his heartbeat you can feel as he fills you more and more. The comfortable stretch that you’ve become so accustomed to. No pain now only pleasure that makes your body hum and tingle from your toes to the top of your head, hair standing on end.
Hair that Hobi pets over. Shushing your full body shivers and hiccups as Yoongi slides home gently. All the way in. Hips flush. Pushing out the rest of your lucidity as he slides in to the hilt.
From that moment on- your heat is a blur. A dizzying cocktail of pleasure, pain, and comfort. Descending down and down and down now that you’re safe. Now that your mate is here.
Yoongi slides all the way in without any resistance. You’re wetter and tighter than usual, so tight around him that he’s sure your clit twitches against the pillow with the strength of your clench. He takes a moment through your mewling to calm himself, certain that if he’s not careful, if moves even a little tiny bit, then he’s going to cum early and muck this all up.
The moment passes between one breath and the next. Yoongi’s hands tremble where they hold your waist. Thumbs rubbing circles on the small of your back, breathing heavily.
"Shh shh shhh little pup, there you go, just like that. So full huh? I know you're sensitive but that's what you needed, isn't it?"
He makes the mistake of looking up at Hobi, and then that’s almost all it takes. His lips are glossy, looking not at him but at the place where both of you connect. The wet hot gush of your cunt stretched around Yoongi’s thickness.
His eyes are so dark they reflect everything, the curve of your bodies, the paleness of Yoongi’s chest a bright speck on his eyes, as fleeting as any star. He licks his lips, barely resisting the temptation to rock forward into the pillow between his thighs.
Barely.
You gasp against Tae's thigh, but her eyes are dark and trained on the same spot. Her lower lip pinned between her teeth like a butterfly to a wall. Keeping a filthy-sounding growl at bay.
There is something about the narrowness of Yoongi’s waist in between your legs and the broadness of his shoulders that makes her feel a little bit crazy. Yoongi has always been beautiful in a way that is neither alpha nor omega. Strong in a way that is an attribute and not a chosen quality.
The gentleness in him is a choice as he pulls you back on his cock, one hand goes to your shoulder, and the other stays on your waist, pulling you back and forth on him. Mindful of everything. The hot squelch of you and the pleasure tugging firm in his gut is secondary to the gentle way he guides you. Gentle and slow but firm.
Yoongi's hand is on your shoulder. Your cheek on Tae’s inner thigh, Yoongi's knuckles brush the inside of Tae's thigh every time he forces you back on his cock. Every warm gasps brushes her skin and Yoongi’s knuckles.
She greatly enjoys this; watching and waiting for her turn. She might not mind waiting forever if it’s Yoongi doing the taking apart. Tae can put you back together later. They can go like that again and again and she’d never mind going second.
Tae picks your hair off your cheeks so that all of them can see your slack lips, your eyes half closed in bliss. Your breath comes out in little 'hng' sounds. Like a moan stuck in your throat.
Her mouth is dry, and you gasp against her thigh when Yoongi grinds deep and stays there. Testing the resistance of your body and marveling at how there isn’t any now. He can feel it deep inside; a place that’s usually impenetrable shifts open bit by bit as the heat settles in you. A little tightness just at the head of his cock that’s maddening.
Fuck, Namjoon will be able to reach there, Yoongi probably could with his fingers, if you hadn’t taken the contraceptive, Namjoon could have put his cock right there and-
It must be your hormones. It must be the mating mark. That must be why he’s so close to cumming so quick. Rocking inside, just to savor the feel of you.
There’s no one alive who's felt this, no one alive who knows what you taste or smell or feel like during your heat. Yoongi will savor this for a moment. Maybe forever.
If the others would only listen, would they let him linger for as long as he wants to? His end barrels past him, flush with the knowledge that it’s him, him making you pant and blush, him making you clench and drip and moan and-
Fucking hell- Yoongi’s almost going insane.
He cums like that, holding your hips flush to his for a handful of seconds, rocking through it, breathing heavily. But he doesn’t flag, doesn’t go soft, just keeps fucking you after a few seconds, cock twitching and throbbing hard.
Fuck. It's so wet and hot, he can feel his cum in you, feel the way it's kept warm and snug. His spend turns frothy around the base of his cock too quick as he sets about fucking you faster, endlessly craving more. The clench of your cunt is not quite enough to keep it from escaping without a knot.
It’s okay, you don’t need to worry about wasting it, Yoongi has more than enough. Yoongi usually doesn’t cum so much, but he’s so distracted by you that he doesn’t notice.
Tae and Hobi grin at him, nostrils flaring because they can scent Yoongi's cum on the air. They know. The feral curve of their teeth eggs Yoongi on. He's not pulling out and he's not stopping until your eyes roll back.
Your eyes go wide when you feel it, giggling softly and reaching down to touch your tummy. Nuzzling into Tae's thigh, as much as a response that they'll get. Your giggling cuts off with a broken hiccup as Yoongi starts up again.
Hobi's watching you, fringe in front of his eyes to the point where Yoongi can't read him. Doesn't have the mind to right now, wholly focused on you.
But the tops of his cheeks are pink, and he can’t quite meet Yoongi’s eyes. On the other hand, Tae can’t look away from you, your hand gripping her thigh hard to hold yourself steady through the waves of pleasure and the brutal never ending breeding. Every time Yoongi juts forward, no matter how gentle. It feels like fire.
Out in the hallway someone snarls loud. You fall limp, clenching so hard that you all but force Yoongi out of you, he just laughs, deep and low, before guiding his cock back in. Not finished with you at all yet but not quite letting you cum.
Neither is the heat, licking at the back of your throat. He won't stop fucking you no matter how many times you almost cum, at least not until the fire ebbs. You hiccup, squirming.
"No pup, we're not done yet. Just a little more, just a little more and then you can cum, are you gonna make it pretty and squirt for me? I know mommy wants to see you all messy."
He’s jogged out of his reverie by the appearance of Tae's hands. Covering his, helping, pushing you back against his cock. Her eyes meeting his. You mewl blindly. Blinking away tears that Hobi pauses to wipe away.
Yoongi wishes she’d move so that he could duck down and kiss you. Is almost about to ask her to do just that so he can when she speaks.
“What does she feel like- what's it like?” Yoongi hisses, feeling his cock twitch, feeling you clamp down tighter in response to it. Aware that Tae can watch his stomach tremble on the exhale. Hobi looks away, a bit overwhelmed.
“She’s very-” Yoongi cuts himself off as you push back into him, intent on starting the fucking again. But the others soothe you. Stop your pushing, make you go slow. Thighs trembling, drawing out your pleasure. You mewl but it just gets shushed away by Tae. A mild scolding that just heats your blood further.
"Be good pup, I know you can wait and take your breeding like a good girl." She turns back to Yoongi, completely unfazed.
“Very very wet. She’s warming up. It's Hot.”
Hobi presses you down, hands on your shoulders, keeping you presented and at their mercy. There will be time for roughness and more roughhousing later. You keen at the harsh contact, the feeling of being pinned. Hoseok swallows so hard that the two of them can hear it, but Hobi's dominance is a fragile thing.
“Yeah, she is.” Hobi goes bright red, flushes, stutters. "I meant inside."
“I know what you meant.”
His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. Hobi's cock jumps in his shorts partially at the embarrassment of his slip-up, and partially because when Tae leans to nuzzle she nips at his scent gland in reward.
Hobi likes this, being made to wait. Different than the way that Tae likes it. But if he stops to think about it he'll get insecure. So he lets the humiliation, the control, wrap around him like a blanket. These are the people he trusts to be vulnerable with. The people who decide when Hobi has a chance to knot or be knotted. Same as you.
How strange it is, to be equal to an omega in heat and a female omega no less. Hoseok is not used to this. Not the same way that he is with Jungkook and Jin and their heats.
It's good that the others are going first, to show Hobi that it's not scary. You peer up at him with unsure eyes. Like you're checking too. Hobi's anxiety is a low simmer. Barely there but not entirely gone. Threatening to flare should something trigger him.
You're not glaring at him, you're just looking. Eyeing him like you know he's anxious. Your hand twitches. And he moves to hold yours before he thinks better. You don't reach for his knot between his legs, already throbbing. You don't do anything but hold his hand, turning away from Tae's thigh briefly to nuzzle into your tangled fingers.
Tae's eyes are dark pools of honey. And her scent spikes, nice. You turn away from Hobi to resist the urge to bite his wrist. Pain and Hobi are not things that you want to put together. Pain and Hobi are things that your brain, even heat-addled, does not like to combine.
You press your face into Tae's thighs. Half under her skirt. Hiding there. Hiccuping, breathing heavy. Unaware of the dynamic emerging above you. She waits for another breath, watching Yoongi. The four of you go still.
Below him, you start to hiccup. It's nice being filled, but you want Yoongi to move already. Your fist tangle in Tae's dress again. Eyes wide and staring blankly, And it’s like you can’t figure out where to grip, where to grab to keep yourself steady.
But all of this is very routine, if they keep you just there, on the edge. build you up and set you down gently, your eventual Orgasam will keep the next wave of heat at bay for a little longer and your body will have more time to recover. It's a balance, giving you what you want and what your body needs.
you mewl and cry below them, sniffling. you've never been denied before. you don't know why, with your tummy already hot and heavy with yoongi's cum, they're keeping you right on the edge.
Tae massages the back of your neck and you pant little mewling breaths against her thigh. it's not a scruff but it's close because a scruff might just make you cum.
You drag your teeth against her thigh when it gets too much, your cute little canines leave little red lines that vanish as soon as they’re there. Tae just coo’s down at you before flicking her eyes up at Yoongi. Waiting and expectant.
She cocks an eyebrow at him and inside of you, his cock twitches. “Were you going to move or….”
“Yeah- sorry,” Yoongi flushes at the momentary awkwardness, the same awkwardness that dissipates immediately as he starts fucking you again.
He’s thankful you’re so vocal. Drowning out the wet slaps and his own broken curses. You’re so wet- the slide is so easy. So good. Your little 'ah ah ah's are so melodic. Joining the chorus of Jungkook's yelps and Jin's snarls.
You’re being touched everywhere, Yoongi’s hands big on your hips, Hobi’s hand down your back, and Tae cradling your face telling you it’s going to be alright. Every touch stokes the fire to burn harder. You like being touched like this, casually while Yoongi has you. You’re close almost from it alone.
Between your legs you start to drip, first down the generous curve of Yoongi’s cock, then onto the nest below. Staining it with the evidence of your sweet surrender.
“There you go,” Hobi says, low and husky as you fall into a rhythm. Your cheek rests against Tae's thigh, panting openly, hiding a little under her skirt. Hobi's finger strokes over your cheek, and you turn away from the touch, not because you don't want it, but because it's embarrassing. Having them watch you so closely like this, at your most vulnerable.
“Awe, pups so shy huh?” Tae teases, and you nod, blinking away tears.
Tae says something far above you, something that sounds too suspiciously like a command, but it's not meant for you. Hobi's hands go to your face and turn you to where they can see you. His thumbs rub up your jaw, cupping your cheeks, and keep you from hiding away in Tae's skirt.
He doesn't say anything and he doesn't need to as your lower lip quivers. There is no one to hide from, no one here that wouldn't love all of you. There is no part of you, dark or pink or otherwise, that these three- Tae, Hobi, Yoongi- don't know yet and love anyway.
Above you sunlight hits Hobi’s hair, turning it red-brown golden. The light Falls on Tae's dress strap too, across Yoongi’s chest and the veins in his hands, throbbing with a heartbeat from here. And you are breathless breathless breath-
“Deeper want it-“
No sooner have you asked for it than is Yoongi adjusting his position. Barely pausing at his steady pace as he hooks an elbow under your knee, all but picking your hips up so he can fuck into you at a punishing pace. The weight of your body pushes him deeper. Hitting a new place inside of you that’s so sensitive you tremble. Popping through some hidden resistance.
Yoongi keeps it steady, not stopping when you gasp, when you drip below you, hitting his legs as you soak the nest below you. Christening the heat nest with the first wave. Your first orgasm that only builds, a first peak that promises another. You gush a little, squirt a little more, every time yoongi slides into you to the hilt.
From this angle you’re completely unable to push back against it. Even less in control and at the mercy of the pace Yoongi sets faster and faster. Carving out a new feeling in you with every thrust. A space in your tummy just for Yoongi, warm and tight and perfect. Pleasure but also hunger for more more and more.
Any other day the wet sounds of your pussy clenching hopelessly around his cock would make him shy- but now all Yoongi can do is give you more. Chasing his building pleasure. A second climax that is stronger than the first. Building you up to your relief as quickly and as gently as he can.
You can’t remember your last heat, the handful of them that you had with Geumjae, you think you were left alone for most of it. You know it wasn’t anything like this.
Hobi pauses and reaches to touch your stomach.
Your eyes shoot open, looking up at him and the half-hardness tenting in his pants. because of you. for you.
Yoongi and you are honest to God so pretty when you fuck. Hobi hasn’t seen this too much before. Sure- little hints of it here and then. both of you tumbling out of the nest room looking sleepy and sated, He's seen Yoongi's hands wander or your touch linger. But this is-
Yoongi is so gentle with you but also firm. Dominant in a way that takes Hobi's breath away and makes his head feel fuzzy. Forcing you back on his cock, punching little “ah ugh’s” from your throat. So gentle in the way that he takes you apart. unyeilding in the pleasure he demands from you.
And the dirty talk-
"Right there yeah? That's the spot that you like isn't it? cute little omega you're doing so well. So cute, don't worry, i'll give you everything you need. I know, it's so much right? It's not too much, i know you can take it, thats my girl- there just like that."
Hobi's going to go insane, Hobi's going to cum in his pants before he's even gotten inside of you. just from the sound of Yoongi's rough voice. husky from the effort. He's already wet, the front of his boxers turning dark from it. Knot already half popped just from watching and-
Tae pulls at your hair, making your neck arch so she can wipe a bit of drool from the corner of your mouth. Cooing, touching your tongue where it lolls out obscene and cute at the same time. Hobi strokes over your stomach, saying nothing, just watching.
He hopes you can’t feel the tremble in his hands or the rapid thunder of his heart or smell his arousal. His hardness, prominent enough that if there weren’t blankets, you’d be able to see. Your eyes are glassy and wide as Yoongi breeds you, Hobi physically sees the haze descend as you get closer and closer to Cumming. Cheeks and chest flushed and pretty. Your eyes flutter closed. Hobi's hands are still on your cheeks. Tae has the same idea.
Your lips open in a perfect little oh. Yoongi thrusts forward particularly hard, and the wet squelch is filthy enough that he almost looks away. Tae's voice is a deep purr.
“Don’t close your eyes honey, I wanna see.” Yoongi laughs at Tae, Teeth gritting.
“Fucking.” Yoongi pants, driving his hips faster. “Bratty” his pace falters, “Alpha.” Tae's pink lips stretch in a smile.
Tae pets through your hair. And it’s gentle but somehow more ruthless that all they do is watch. You’d blush, but your blood is already hot from the heat.
You sob and Yoongi’s face cracks into a grin. “That’s it, there you go for us, cum for me-”
It builds and builds until you’re right on the edge, you stumble over it when the second wave of Yoongi's cum turns your insides hot. That and the barest touch of Hobi's fingers against your clit that has you clenching wildly around him, clenching too hard, almost forcing his cock out if it weren’t for the way he puts his weight behind his next thrust with a broken groan.
Your ears fill with a ringing sound. High-pitched, mind blank. Staring up at Tae without really seeing her. Going just a tiny bit cross-eyed. Just for a second.
When you finally stop seeing stars. Tae is smiling down at you lazily. A satisfied smirk on her face.
Your slick drips down your midline, just a little. You usually get very very wet when the pack gives you proper attention, in heat- your usually slick production is amped up. If you could feel anything right now, you'd be embarrassed.
The world is a collection of sensations. The ringing in your ears. Yoongi's kiss against your mating mark. The sensitivity of your body against the nest; the fabric damp beneath your belly as they turn you onto your back to wipe up your stomach. The blankets replaced. Someone mentions something about getting towels for the next wave and where did Jinnie put them? In the closet or out in the hall?
They set you down gently. Yoongi stretches your leg out straight and makes sure it doesn’t cramp.
There is a drop of water on the end of your nose. You're crying.
Yoongi doesn't move from between your legs, he stays inside. Because an alpha wouldn't move after breeding an omega, wouldn't be able to take their knot out. Yoongi is accustomed enough to omega's in heat to know when to move and when not to. He'll rest here, in your warmth and wet and mess until you tell him to move.
But still, it’s not enough. You cry, cheeks wet, unsure why exactly. The hunger and rabid wanting animal in you is not quiet. The fever does not ease. It hardly even goes down.
Hobi sits up, nervous, about to go bother Namjoon, knotting or not. The hair on the back of Yoongi’s neck stands up. But Tae shushes both of them rubbing your tears away, bending low to kiss them until she moves you off of her lap.
You barely register Hobi's husky voice. “Did so well, so good ug-omega.” Hobi's flush and his shyness escape your notice. But you do peer up at him, lips pressed to the meat of his thumb. Mumbling, sleepy and sniffly.
“Good? Not scary? Not hurts?” You ask, your words a little scrambled from the heat.
He leans low to kiss your brow. Lingering there for a second, leaving his lips there. Make eye contact with Yoongi over the top of your head. Looking sweaty and victorious and a little bit like he’s gloating as he shakes his long hair out of his eyes. Tae's hand splays on his stomach, bullying up behind him, saying something filthy into his ear, before she swirls her fingers through his tummy hair and then reaches lower.
“Not scary at all.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Your breath hitches, You feel something prod at your sensitive entrance. Something bullying its way in next to Yoongi. The stretch burns but it feels so good. It’s the itch you needed to scratch, the last thing your body was missing. It quiets the fire in you, the flames of wanting ebbing.
You don’t even register that it’s Tae's fingers, sneaking in next to Yoongi and holding you open a little, curling just a bit to simulate the stretch of a knot and press against the scent gland in your pussy, close to your special little spot. Has she had to do this before for Jungkook and Jin? Is this a normal predicament for Yoongi? What does it feel like to have Tae's fingers by his cock and you so warm and wet outside?
Yoongi's pants, pants as Tae…sort of holds his cock while it's in you. He gives a faint twitch and she laughs behind him, hardness pressing against the curve of his hip. Forgotten about it for now.
The extra stretch calms your instincts and the fever ebbs a little. Your sweat cools. Your heart rate slows. Eyelids heavy, starting to get sleepy.
“Thanks Tae.”
You hear the sound of kisses, slow and sloppy as you doze. Comforted by the stretch at your entrance and Yoongi’s cock. You collect moments like seashells. Hobi sprawling out, more relaxed than before. Hand combing through your hair gently. Careful not to snag.
Tae's knees accidentally pressing against your hips. Yoongi strokes up and down your stomach, your sides, everywhere. Your hands pulled to your chest. Unable to focus on anything other than how full and filled you feel. Bred and taken. Claimed by the mark on your throat and the warmth in your tummy. All full, finally full.
The stretch makes you feel a little better- makes the need not quite so frantic. It can wait for later, the need for the others tearing through you. You can take this moment of peace right now.
your mind drifts, the seconds and minutes drifting away.
Warmth comes and goes, There is someone holding a straw with a cup to your lips. Hobi is along your front, half sitting up. The glass is dewy with condensed water. His hands damp.
Was he just standing up? Did he go to the kitchen and leave the safety of the nest just to give you some water, that's so lovely and so sweet. Your instincts tell you that you should let Hobi pup you for that.
As a treat.
You know you won't be awake for long, your thoughts are slippery to hold onto at best. Yoongi rests inside of you and doesn’t pull out. he Lets you cockwarm him and keeps you filled even though he’s going just a little soft. Tae pulls her fingers out once your fever goes down, ebbing until your body temperature returns to a stable baseline and the next wave no longer threatens to flare.
Hobi pokes the straw against your lip, and you suck blindly, obediently. Without opening your eyes. Non-verbal. They’re talking- you register dimly. You don't need to be concerned with what they say, you know they'll look after you regardless of if you're listening.
You rub your cheek against Tae's thighs. You love her thighs, they're so soft and warm. You hope you get to spend all of your heat like this, your head propped up in Tae's lap.
Well…maybe not all of your heat. You'd also like to sit in her lap too, preferably with her knot inside of you. But that can wait, she’s not going anywhere and you’ll make sure of it.
Your fever flares as your heat-addled thoughts run rampant, eyes closed and scent sweetening. It garners the attention of your pack, falling quiet above you.
“Do you think-” There is a hand on your face, your cheek, feeling you for fever. Tae's chipped fingernail polish flashes in the light.
“Not yet. We've got like, half an hour probably? Maybe a bit less?”
The slapping sounds in the hallway have finally quieted and the sound of your pack omega’s purring lulls you into a soft state. Your eyes flutter closed. Jinnie will be here soon, Jinnie is purring so you should purr too.
You fall back asleep, the rumbling in your chest a light lullaby. Above you, your packmates go calm and quiet.
"She smells so calm, it's so- it's so-" Tae rubs down Yoongi’s side, but Yoongi doesn’t look up. Looking down at you, eyes full of some unreadable emotion that is actually not unreadable only because they know Yoongi so well, his breath comes quicker, and he blinks quick.
Lowering his body, getting as close to you as possible. But he doesn’t relax, doesn’t blink so as to not miss a single moment looking down at you. Hand on either side of your body, depressing the nest. Your purring peters off as you actually fall asleep but- but-
Crouched over you, you don't even stir. Your chest rises up and down. Evenly. You nap without worry.
Hobi wants to tell him it’s alright. And it is alright if he needs to cry. Hoseok understands. Sometimes getting what you want finally- the person you love healthy and happy- Can bring up a happy sort of sadness.
Sadness, unfortunately, has its way of sticking around.
You doze below Yoongi, completely unworried and unburdened by any of it, and what a lovely lucky thing that is. For a single moment, Yoongi wishes that nothing would change. That you’d never leave this room and stay just like this. Happy and safe and satisfied forever.
He hovers, lingers in the moment. Tae and Hobi hold him. Letting him process it for a breath or two. The moment will end whether Yoongi wants it to or not.
Tae and Hobi don’t bring it to your attention and you slumber on, unaware. Gently pausing, getting up, abdominal muscles straining. Each of them presses a kiss to either side of your mate's face. Silent in their loveing but Yoongi finds it no less reassuring.
The next time you blink away the haze you can see evening yellow streaming through the window. Casting all of your loves in honey shadows. You don’t think to count for bodies, you’re too focused on the task in front of you.
The very very big task in front of you.
Your instincts sniff it out like blood on easy prey. Your cheek is still on Tae's lap. And there is a scent a few inches from you that makes your fever spike again. Your eyes flutter open and you see it.
Her hardness is right there, poking up through the translucent fabric of her dress. Flush with her stomach and visibly pink and hard. Barely contained by her panties in a way that you know must be uncomfortable.
Tae has such a pretty cock, such an unfairly pretty dick. No doubt, she's still hard because of your heat hormones. Hard and thick and lovely bulging in her skirt. Just looking at it makes your eyes water, your tongue feels slippery and hungry in your mouth.
You start to shuffle forward only to be momentarily distracted by movement in the door.
It’s a little comical the sight of someone so small carrying your big buff omega. Jiminie handles Jungkook like he’s nothing, like he hardly weighs more than a pillow. both of Jimin's hands underneath his knees. Jungkook's arms loosely wrapped around the alpha's neck, kept snug against his front.
Jungkook looks blissed out and dazed. His strong neck and shoulders are bitten up and dotted with red semi-circles. His chest is too- at least from what you can see of it. He's bundled up so close to Jimin's chest, it almost makes his usually muscular form look small. He's probably feeling small and omegaspacy like you are.
He's still knotted to Jiminie judging from the tender and careful way that Jimin carries him.
Jimin deposits both of them in the nest without any unintentional pulling or unknotting the omega. You perk up a little, chin balanced on Tae's knee to watch. Hobi cranes his body, bending backward without getting up, twisting and reaching so that he can get his hand in Jungkook’s hair.
“How is he?”
“Little fucker tried to bite my knot.” Tae giggles, her tummy makes her cock jiggle. You’re so close. All you have to do is press your mouth to the fabric and it will practically be inside. Your tongue is already pushing out and-
She shuffles away, every inch a heartbreak. You are too tired to chirp.
She reaches back mirroring Hobi's position, long chestnut hair spilling in the nest, arching her back and looking at both Jimin and Jungkook upside down so she can tangle her hands in Jungkook’s raven-dark hair. So that her other hand can settle on Jimin’s calf. Sporting several bite marks of his own.
You're too tired to whine or chirp to get her attention. But across the nest, Jungkook shifts. Restless.
“Do we need to muzzle you like we muzzle Joonie, Koo?”
Koo has little more than a huff in response. Uncharacteristically tired after being thoroughly put through his paces by Jimin. But it’s only the first wave, and like I said, hormones take a while to build
For everyone, not just omegas.
Whatever quiet moment Jin and Namjoon are having in the hall comes to an end as Namjoon carries him in, bridal style and no longer knotted to the pack alpha. Not all of you can be as dexterous as Jimin is. Jin doesn’t look like he minds, happy to be placed next to you. Taking Hobi's spot or close to it. It's almost like Namjoon puts Jin on top of your little puppy pile.
It's where Jinnie wants to be, on top of his pups.
Namjoon’s hands linger, but only just, he stands up straight but then ducks down to run his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, messing it up.
“Oh, my fucking god-” Yoongi says, a little incredulous. Already flushing even though Namjoon hasn't even spoken yet.
“Proud of you,” Namjoon says. A grin that is ever so slightly hassling on his face.
Yoongi's cheeks and ears go splotchy. “I’m fucking my mate Jonnie, it’s not something I need a participation trophy for.”
“We could get you one- engrave it ‘best cock in the fucking world’ or something. whatever you want.”
“Is that a compliment or an insult?”
“I was hoping you’d take it as some light flirting, but I’ll take what I can get.”
“I’m literally still inside of our omega and you want to flirt with me?” He’s more perplexed than he is annoyed. He looks a bit like a fluffed-up cat, astounded to realize the toy he's been caught playing with is, in fact, plastic and not a mouse.
Beside you, Hoseok flushes and you know it has everything to do with Yoongi calling you ‘ours’ and not just ‘mine’. Namjoon got the job done. Yoongi is no longer looking down at you like he might cry.
“He called your cock great; I think that hardly classifies it as ‘light’” Tae says.
“Guys, I am literally still-“
Jimin pushes Jungkook to the side, all so that he can grind his knot in again, deep, still not going down enough to pull out. The omega lets out a choked whine, at Jimin’s mercy. “I am too- never stopped me.” He turns to Tae. Hips rocking in circles. Absent-minded.
Jungkook tangles a fist in the nest and takes it with sweet little 'hng' noises. “That dress is honestly-“ Jimin trails off, Jungkook lets out an aborted whine at the pulsing in Jimin’s knot.
Tae just raises her eyebrow at him. If Jimin wasn’t red before he is now, especially once her eyes flick down to where he’s knotted to Jungkook. Pushing at his streached rim. Little cock helplessly weepy. His abdominal muscles faintly glossy from drying slick.
Yoongi splutters and you smile against Tae's thigh. Purring your agreement with Jimin. Now if only your hands would cooperate in taking off her dress or at least hike it up-
But Jinnie shuffles over. Still a little non-verbal in Omegaspace, just like you and Kookie. But to the point where his sentences are broken but sure, said with a pout and a command.
“Needed to check, needed to make sure." The others move for the pack omega, parting like the river over a stone. you don't immidatly register it, letting out a petulant whine when yoongi starts to move away.
Jinnie touches your tummy gently, delicate in the way that he sets palm against flesh. Finding it swollen and heavy. Perfectly soft and delicate. He touches you like someone would touch a flower, worried about the slightest brush too bruising.
You’re momentarily distracted by it. The warm heat of Jin’s palm, the flushed pout to his lips and cheeks. Pretty- your pack omega is so pretty in heat. You look up at him, sprawled. Yoongi twitches hardening inside of you as Jinnie bends low to nose at your stomach. Dark hair tickling your belly button.
Jin presses his nose just above your waistline and sniffs deep. when he breathes out it's a purr. Loud and satisfied.
He picks himself up and looks down at you with eyes that reflect no light, no anything. Dark and round like stones. "Bred omega, good packmate, good-"
Outside a bird putters close to the window. Jimin’s head jerks in it’s direction. Taught body relaxing the second he realizes it. Namjoon blinks down at you and Jin slowly.
Yoongi is still somewhat hard but pulling out, and even though it's been 30 minutes since you came, it still garners him a small mewl of displeasure from your throat. He doesn’t let any of his cum slip out. Forcing the little that does come out back in with the tips of his fingers.
but jin needs to see, needs to check, he pulls apart the dewy folds of your cunt with his fingers, nuzzling with his nose, you're so sensitive you jerk, all but mewling when he dares to lap at your entrance. soothing where you got stretched. happy to find you unharmed.
You twitch and tremble. Above you, Tae laughs.
Jin's voice is a deep hiss. "More- more not yet." He rubs his face into your stomach and thighs once more, makeing sure you're scent marked, that the alpha's who defile you will be able to smell him on you before they knot you. before he gets up on his knees and scents them. Hobi first, then Tae, then Yoongi.
He might get a little bit of your slick on them, his cheeks wet in patches with it. it's a little goss but honestly, Jin doesn't notice.
"Good pups. Best pups"
Above all of you, Joonie looks on fond. His knot is still half-inflated at the base of his cock. Still hard and achy and yummy, looking entirely too large to be real. As is normal. Everyone is bare besides your trio that helped you through your first wave and as you realize this, Jin tugs at Hobi's boxers. Displeased.
But you are not paying much attention to Hobi and Jin, still looking at Namjoon. At his knot between his legs. You clench down hard when you look at it, Yoongi’s fingers direct your gaze back up to him. Raising his eyebrows almost in challenge.
Namjoon's scent thickens on the air, but so does Tae's
Hobi ducks away at Jin’s attention and Jin won't let him rest, sniffing at the hollow of his throat, all but backing Hobi up against a wall. Like Jin’s worried he doesn’t believe him. “Best pups” he repeats again, like he's worried hobi doesn't belive him.
“We haven’t even done anything yet-”
“Still. Best. Pups.”
You turn to Hobi, whining, and finally breaking your eye contact and the weird half-tension between you, Namjoon, and your mate. Namjoon finally gets off his feet. Sinking into the nest and shuffling up behind Jin, half pinning him to the nest. Distracting him from quite literally herding Hobi by pawing at his legs. Jinnie has pretty legs, strong thighs and muscular calves. They part when Namjoon prods, more instinct than conscious choice.
Namjoon's hands shift the pack omega's legs apart and start to guide his cock back, not for another round but maybe for comfort. Perhaps he's been influenced by Yoongi's cockwarming to soothe. (That's a nice idea, isn't it? All of their omega's warm and bred full, all at once). Obviously trying to settle whatever instincts are currently rocking through Jinnie.
But Jin makes a noise, alarmed and not entirely interested.
Namjoon is already half inside but he pulls Jin off his cock anyway. His knot falls, heavy and wet with slick and spend against his thigh. He sets Jin down. “Fuck.” The pack omega throws his head back against the nest and blinks away his daze the same moment that Jungkook sighs and pushes back against Jimin before the elder of the two finally pulls his knot free with a gentle hiss.
You assume, more than see- as Namjoon’s hand finds its way between Jin’s thighs to push his spend back into the omega’s hole. You still don’t know how Jin manages to take Namjoon unprepped- even inside of heat.
A whine starts to build while you look at it, how are you supposed to choose?
“Wanna switch?” Namjoon offers reading the pack omega in the way that only sort of soulmates do. You perk up, trying to push yourself onto your palms unsuccessfully.
Jin nods, messy hair fluffing. “Too sleepy, can’t sleep on your knot, s’too-” Jin licks his lips, eyes darting down to look at it. “-Distracting.”
Jimin’s hand is already on Jinnie’s ankle and Jk sits up on his hands and knees. He and Tae make eye contact and before you know it he’s shuffling over to her and she’s starting to shift.
It’s casual like that- your alpha’s talking about which omega to breed next and who needs it most. You’re the only one still blissed out and at ease. Maybe just because you had three packmates to settle you and they only had two.
But you don’t like it. The way that Tae moves away from you.
Your attention ping-pongs back and forth from Namjoon to Tae. Completely unaware of the pack alpha's dark eyes on you. The thing about omega's in heat is that they're a little bit dumb.
Jungkook watches you move, watches Tae jostle you. Pupils dilating in alarm. His own pleasure momentarily forgotten. Your hands tighten on Tae's thighs, a needy whine building in your throat.
“Wait- my mommy- mine-” You chirp. But Tae is already moving away.
And before the others can even breathe Jungkook is jerking in Tae's direction. Lip lifted in a soundless snarl, answering your call first. The quickest.
“Kookie don't you dare.” "omega." “Wait don’t-”
Jk is quicker and stronger in heat. Too quick for Jimin to grab him or for namjoon to dive. He jolts, but at the last second you curve your arm over Tae's hip and his teeth hit you and not her. Hissing and spluttering, a smarting pain that honestly to God shocks you.
Jungkook’s teeth are still embedded in your skin as you look down. Cheeks hot, eyes wide. the rest of the pack falls silent. A bit stunned. But Jungkook just hurtles on, crouching over you and growling and hissing. Jungkook’s nose presses hard into your cheek as he bares his teeth. Licking them. glaring up at tae. “My pup- mine- alpha bad- alpha made omega sad-”
Tae lets out a crushed sound, upset.
Namjoon wastes no time, the first one to move after being shocked still. Getting up on his knees only to drag Jungkook back and away from you. Drawing him over his lap in quick succession, landing several swats over his ass. hard and loud. landing one over his cock for good measure and jungkook folds, breathing heavy. After the third hit to his cock, Jungkook’s yelps become moans.
Namjoon gives him no mercy when he pulls him onto his cock in one fluid movement, not bothering to prep him. Jungkook likes the sting, the stretch. Eyes rolling back.
Tae pulls you up onto her lap. Her cock trapped between your stomach and hers. But she’s not looking at your face but at your wrist. Yoongi shuffles behind you, inspecting it tilting it gently so that the red marks catch the light and they can see the damage jungkook did.
Your skin already already going purple and dark from a bruise.
“Are you alright- are you-” You are not worried about the pain in your arm, only the searing need between your legs. Tae has you in her lap, right where you want to be (unless?). You fumble with her skirt. Tearing it this way and that, hungry and insistent.
Her knot- you need her knot. You grind your hips together hot and filthy. Your pussy against her cock, her dress trapped between both of you. The fabric is rough even though you can feel her body heat through it.
“Mommy- mommy please-”
The room spins, and you're so dizzy you can't even think straight. Jungkook biting you must have sent you hurtling into your next wave of heat, which is not good. Not good at all. If your spikes are too close together at the beginning of your heat then they just won't end at all. A prolonged fever is too dangerous.
She barely pauses before she pulls up the hem to her skirt, letting her cock- pink-tipped and pretty- pop free of the honestly tiny panties, the bow at the front crumpled. You rub against it, turning it wet. The fire flows, sparking hotter and hotter and hotter. She grabs your hips, alarmed.
But Yoongi grabs your waist. Keeps you from putting it inside your hole, clenching around nothing, empty. You wail. You want it. Yoongi tucks his chin over your shoulder, hands running up and down your sides to try and soothe you.
"Wait little honey, let's get mommy nice and wet like this first." He guides you like that, to rub your cunt up and down Tae's length, every push of the head of her cock through your pussy makes you moan and twitch, wetter and wetter. Tae looks down, and it's not just your slick, but Yoongi's spend wetting her cock. Creamy, milky white tinged clear. Fuck.
at the base of her cock, her knot skin feels tighs and swollen, you rub low, getting it nice and wet too.
Yoongi does not let you go further, does not let you put in. his voice is husky in your ear.
"I want you to cum like this before you have her, you have to show Mommy how messy you get just from this, have to show her you're good for a knot too. A big pretty cock like that won't fit in unless you're nice and wet okay honey? You're too tiny to take it without cumming first and besides-" yoongi hesitates.
"don't you want to show them? jinnie and joonie and kookie?"
You nod, eyes glassy. Outside of heat, you might not believe him but right now Yoongi's words are gospel. At least your fever stops it's climbing, it doesn't get any better, but it doesn't get any worse. yoongi heaves a sigh of relief.
You really are unable to choose when you're in heat like this. It's not just useless talk. It really should be left up to Yoongi or the others, or else you'll hop from knot to knot, the heat fever frying your body and brain.
When you look over, Jungkook rides Namjoon. Facing you and pouting. Parting his legs so that you can see where they join. Mumbling something unintelligible that the others can’t make out. But your packmates keep you separated on opposite sides of the nest.
Behind him you hear the hush. “Is Koo? Rejecting her?” they hardly dare risk saying it out loud. “I don’t think so.” But still, the pack is not quite sure what just happened. why jungkook tired to bite you after tae moved away from you.
Deep in Jungkook’s chest, his instincts sing. My pup, alphas need to stay next to my pup, the pup needs pretty alpha. But words remain as effervescent as lucidity, the words just out of reach
Tears hover at the edge of your waterline, across the nest Jungkook watches you, sniffling too. Every time he even thinks of squirming away from Namjoon’s knot to get to you the alpha pulls him back onto it. After a few thrusts, Jungkook is too heat-addled to think straight. Too fucked up to glare at you (he's not glaring, he's staring at you with determination.)
In the nest still lying prone, Jin yawns, stretching out, toes curling. Showing off his cum stained tummy, his flushed cheeks, and the pretty round curve of his body. Raising his eyebrows at the alpha’s in your nest.
Your nest. Yours’s, Jin’s and Jungkook’s. Full of your pretty alpha’s with their pretty knots.
Tae's cock rubs up between your legs, head bumping against your clit and you jerk, only to be met with Yoongi's sushing.
It's so different to have them so close, to have them fucking right here close to you. You're almost more interested in watching Jungkook and Namjoon fuck than you are in getting fucked by Tae. Almost. Your body grids forward unbidden. Eager even if your mind is hazy.
Jin's a bit more lucid (the three of you share a single brain cell in heat, and Jin will keep it in his front pocket for the foreseeable future.) Your packmates sit at attention watching as Jin parts his honey thighs just a little in invitation. His cheeks are rosy as he raises an eyebrow at them.
“Well? Who’s next?”
Three hands shoot into the air. Then after a moment, you shakily raise your hand too.
~-~
Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!
Notes:
part of me did not like the intro of this chapter like at all, almost deleted all of it so many times but? it's so hard putting so much effort into parts of this series that i know will probably never see the light of the final version and then choosing to delete them, like yes the wordcount might be high and this stuff might be a little wordy but? people always wanted more of bily so even months later i'll give it to them.
so i re-read a really good fanfic that was set in like, victorian/viking stuff? and it totally altered my brain chemistry and i feel as though i was writing in a way thats a bit more like, old timey? maybe you can tell because i felt like this chapter was alot more like- flowy than usual.
honestly i'm super proud of the line "Flip-flopping until Jungkook can’t tell if it hurts too much to keep going or if it feels too good to stop." like ugghhhhhhhh thats a good one.
also the line 'each nickname more loving than your own name.' was a very very small refrence to call me by your name, just a little. i do think that the m/c is not very comfortable with her own name, or your name- whatever that may be like- it's very clear that i avoid using y/n as much as possible. i think it appears in the story a good like 10 times after almost a million words? (i double checked and it in fact appears 21 times in the entire story- thats actually mind boggling to me tbh)
the part where yoongi is talking about how healthy the m/c looks was directly inspired by a conversation i had with @trifoliumrex because her ideas are always always so impossibly good i can't resist putting them into the story.
if it's not clear, yoongi is definitly feeling the effect of the m/c's addictive slick and her hormones, he is equally as heat addled as the pack is, he's just never felt the true effects of an omega in heat before because he's never been mated to the person in heat so yeah- it's the mating mark! this won't be the last time we see him acting like an alpha because of the marks.
yoongi *his cock almost in the m/c* so who you fuckin? m/c: the fuck? you?
can we just apreciate how ridicilously hot it is that tae's tiddies jiggle when she growls like??? fuck me right?
now personally i love woumb fucking but i know it's not everyones cup of tea so i hope i skirted by it just perfectly
that moment where yoongi is talking about how there's no one alive whose felt her in heat is a direct dig at geumjae. yoongi does hate him a lot you know- even if he couldn't kill him.
i am so soft for boys that cum too quick but also have no refractory period like i am so into it it almost makes me feel like i'm not a lesbian. i think it's so /cute/.
tbh, i think it's actually fucking adorable how it's thoughts of namjoon penetrating the m/c that has yoongi cuming too soon. like fuck he's so into how namjoon fucks her and how big his cock is- do we think yoongi has a size kink and that that itch is scratched by namjoon fucking her? like just imagine at the begining it was namjoon fucking yoongi that got him off and then he goes out and gets a mate thats even smaller than him who could hardly take namjoon's cock at the begining...ugh i love that.
(tmi but) i always end up subconciously edging myself when i write smut chapters because obviously this is all stuff i'm into and i've got to sit and finish it and wait to like... take care of myself until after i'm finished or else my interest in writing goes away immideatly. i just know that if mommy tae where here she'd make me cockwarm her while i write the chapter and that is a fantasy i'm going to reward myself with later.
i think that this chapter sounds and feels alot different because the process was so drawn out and so much different than other chapters because i had to pause.
i realized while editing this that i needed more of hobi in it so! i hope you enjoy how the wordcount jumped!
yoongi is so horny but also hopelessly sentimental in this my god.
the m/c is so dumb and horny in this chapter like what do you mean she wants namjoon and tae's knot both at the same time? like she can't even take one of those at once without prep normally let alone both-
#bts smut#bts fluff#bts mafia au#bts polyamory au#bts#bts au#bts gang au#bts omegaverse au#bts a/b/o#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#namjoon x reader#bts x you#bts poly au#bts hurt/comfort#bts werewolf au#bts angst bts omegaverse fic#bts hybrid fic#min yoongi fic#kim namjoon fic#kim seokjin fic#kim taehyung fic#park jimin fic#jeon jungkook fic#jjk#pjm#myg#knj#kth
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Hello so I have a Daisuke x reader request if you don't mind! I loved the make out story you did and so if you don't mind Daisuke and reader making out an Daisuke bitting HARD on reader skin like this 😨 hard so hard that the EVERYONE could notice it and how it go to that point like if you don't mind
You don't have to do! If you don't want! Have a nice day!
Pairings: Daisuke x F!reader
Warnings: BITING; marking; hickeys, SUGGESTIVE (kinda nsfw, so mdni I guess??), cringe, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!
(A/N): I had a little bit too much fun writing this😨 THIS IS SO GROSS AND CRINGE WHAT DO I DO😣 Btw I like, haven't posted a fic in so long lol, I'm really sorry and all, I'm a bit late🤠 -> m.list
Daisuke's hands were both on opposite sides of your head, your legs wrapped around his waist and hands thrown loosely over his shoulders.
His lips were pressed to yours in a deep, heated kiss. He gently bit your bottom lip, as if asking for you to open your mouth. You let out a soft gasp and slowly parted your lips, his tongue immediately finding its way inside and twirling around with your own.
After a few moments, he pulled away, panting. You were breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down as you stared at him, watching him gaze back at you with love filling his eyes. You adored the way his hair fell down and over his face most of the time when he was looking down at you, when you were in the same exact position as you were in right now.
Daisuke smiled at you, his face burying into your neck as he started leaving soft kisses down to your shoulder. You chuckled at the ticklish sensation, with the way his lips barely hovered onto your skin, lightly pressing kisses. One of his hands went to hold onto your waist, the other supporting him.
His gentle kisses slowly turned to sucking, earning whines from you. He left a few faint red marks on your shoulders that would surely fade away in a few hours, luckily not too visible.
Daisuke trailed his kisses to your jaw, your hands tangling in his hair. All of the sudden, he bit down on your neck, digging his teeth into your skin and drawing out a yelp from you as you pulled on his hair. He gently licked the mark, sucking to soothe the pain.
Daisuke pulled back as he chuckled, staring down at you with nothing but joy in his eyes. He admired his work, eyes scanning over the faint red splotches, until he came upon the one he just gave you a few seconds prior. It slowly turned into a dark purple spot, right on your upper neck, on display to anybody passing by.
"Sorry." He smiled at you, to wich you raised a brow in confusion.
"You might need to cover that up." He added, nuzzling his face into your neck as you slowly came to the realization that yes, he did leave a noticeable mark.
"I thought we talked about where you place your kisses." You sighed out, fighting a smile at his stupidity.
"We did?"
You shook your head, knowing it was pointless. Just how would you walk around the ship now?
...
...
You thought you were slick enough.
You pulled your uniform collar a bit higher, covering over the mark perfectly.
What you didn't know, was that if you even tilted your head slightly, it would be completely evident.
...
...
CURLY
You were hurrying out of Daisuke's room, hoping not to be seen by others, scanning the area and making sure no one was there.
You fixed up your hair a bit, pulling the collar of your uniform higher.
Your shoes tapped on the floor, rushing through the hallways. You weren't even looking up ahead, eyes glued to your feet.
You raised your head just in time to prevent yourself from crashing into your captain, forcing your legs to stop abruptly.
You smiled nervously, looking at him and giving a short nod as a greeting, to wich he reciprocated.
Although his eyes seemed to linger on you for a while longer, his brows furrowing as he studied you.
"You okay?" He asked, his expression one of curiosity and hesitance.
"Yeah... Why wouldn't I be?" You replied, your brow arching in confusion.
"No reason... Carry on." He nodded, giving an unsure smile as he walked away, leaving you dumbstruck.
...
It HAD to have been a hickey. He knew it too well. He was aware of how one looked like... But that mark specifically looked more like teeth marks to him. As if someone bit down onto you.
Curly was a bit perplexed. He didn't remember there being a rule against relationships among the crew... But then again, who was it?
His suspicion was aimed at Daisuke, since you two are in close age range and always hang out together.
JIMMY
Your feet dragged on the floor lazily, humming to yourself on your way to meet Anya.
Just then, you saw Jimmy walking towards your direction. You didn't like Jimmy.
You almost rolled your eyes, but you gave a quick wave so he doesn't think you're an asshole.
He gave a nod back, before stopping briefly to look at you. He stared you down, eyes going wide and a frown forming on his lips.
"What the hell happened to you?" He asked in disgust, studying you.
You raised a brow as you tilted your head to the side in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
He sighed and shook his head, looking straight ahead again.
"Nevermind... slut." He mumbled the last part, chuckling as he walked away.
You swore you heard him insult you, but you just didn't hear him well enough, therefore there was no evidence.
...
He knew DAMN WELL.
Fingers pointed proudly at Daisuke.
Jimmy always had a feeling you two were a bit TOO close, not co-workers type of close, neither friends type of close.
He just didn't expect the dumbass to have a chance, let alone manage to get into your pants.
ANYA
After all of those uncomfortable encounters and awkward situations, you finally stopped in front of the medical room, where Anya was currently working.
Before you could enter, Anya herself came out of the room, a bit surprised to see you there as she flinched, before smiling quickly.
"Oh, you scared me..." She spoke, her eyes studying your face before they stopped at a specific spot.
Her brows furrowed a little, seeming concerned.
"Are you alright?" She asked, thinking it was maybe a rash, or possibly even allergies.
"Hm? Why wouldn't I be?" You questioned, squinting your eyes at her.
Everybody's been acting weird today...
Anya's eyes widened for a brief second as she took a closer look, her lips parting before they shut closed. She felt a weird burning feeling through her chest, and her mind just fogged up. Did something bad happen to you?
But you seemed happy... Maybe a little tense, but happy nonetheless. She thought back to all the times she's caught you and Daisuke in each other's rooms, brushing it off as just "friends talk", or all the times she's seen you two chatting a bit too smug in the hallways, also every single time she's heard you two flirt with each other. The corners of her mouth were fighting for life, trying to hold back a smile.
"No, nevermind, I think you should check up on that." She suggested, patting your shoulder and walking past you.
"Wait, I wanted to tell you something!"
"Check up on Daisuke while you're at it..." She whispered to herself, letting out a quiet giggle.
Your brows raised, lips forming a thin line. Just what the hell was going on?
...
It was hard to believe that YOU would actually do such a thing. She just couldn't think of her friend doing stuff like this.
She knew all too well it was Daisuke.
Another thing is that she was incredibly shocked at the fact that Daisuke managed to leave such a mark on you, she pondered for a while and came to the conclusion that it must've hurt like hell.
SWANSEA
You felt weird, getting scanned by your crew members' eyes and maybe even judged by some.
So why not try and find Daisuke, pretty much the only person who know how to comfort you best?
Of course, he'd be with Swansea.
You opened the door, but your boyfriend wasn't there, only the same grumpy man.
"What do you want?" Swansea asked, before turning to look at you.
"Just looking for Daisuke." You replied, taking a quick glance around the room.
"Are you okay?" He asked, squinting his eyes at you.
"Everyone's been asking me that, I don't get it!" You didn't bother responding, your brows furrowing as you started getting a bit irritated.
"Pull up your collar or something. Damn animals..." He muttered that last part, going back to his work as you stood there in utter shock.
So that's what was wrong.
...
Swansea already knew it. All too well.
Daisuke was just praising you so much, talking his ear off, mentioning every single detail you had.
Since the airhead can't keep secrets too well, he managed to accidentally spill it out one day.
But it wasn't like Swansea didn't know, he's caught you two together a couple of times, he just never talked about it.
...
You felt your cheeks heat up as you tugged harshly on your collar to pull it up, wanting the ship to crash right at this moment.
Screw you Daisuke. Screw your boyfriend for embarrassing you in front of everyone.
★yoyomiko ★miko
#reader#x reader#reader insert#f!reader#fem!reader#female reader#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#mouthwashing daisuke#mouthwashing anya#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#captain curly#anya mouthwashing#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing jimmy#mouthwashing x reader#daisuke x female reader#daisuke smut#daisuke x reader#daisuke x you#daisuke x y/n#daisuke#daisuke mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x you#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing smut#x you#★yoyomiko#★miko
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Velarik had woke to the scent of the dusty velvet lining of his coffin disintegrating like ash in a breeze.
His first waking thought, after so many years asleep, was to blearily wonder what day it was but his second was that he needed to cull the human who had made the coffin so poorly.
It irked him.
He had picked a long break precisely because of these thoughts. All vampires were a little neurotic but Velarik was not a male to do things by halves. Indeed, that was his problem. He couldn't just half-arse a task, not him. If it was a thing worth doing, he had to hyperfocus. For Velarik, his obsession with humans had gotten so put of hand that a few weeks (months? Years?) ago, a few other vamps had rocked up at his castle and told him pointedly that he needed to take a time out.
Velarik had taken the advice. No one did "pointed" quite like vampires. So, it had been unfortunate that he was thinking about culling humans before he had even opened his coffin.
By the time he had assessed the castle, he had mentally jumped right back into farm mode. There were a few cracking bloodlines in the villages he managed. Before his slumber, he had been planning to try and introduce some outside bloodlines, perhaps build a bridge over the river....only one, though, he didn't want too many wild humans wandering into his lands and messing up his breeding scheme. He delighted in how easy humans could form mating pairs when it meant that ensuring the right male and female met in the right way at the right time but when it came to rogue outsiders, human mating habits could be truly annoying.
By the time he had found out the year, Velarik was beyond annoyed. He was incandescent with frustration.
Two and a half centuries! He'd overslept and managed to sleep through ten generations! His humans bloodlines would be a mess now. They'd have mated willy nilly, no regard to how well their blood tasted at all. It really was unacceptable. He had been planning to find a human and slake his thirst, maybe change his clothes, but he obviously had to jump straight back in. Perhaps his villages had isolated enough for the humans to have started inbreeding? He wasn't a fan of inbreeding but it might have secured some traits, at least. He was out of the castle with a notebook and a quill as quick as a bat out of hell. He would find his humans and take stock of the situation.
Except there were no humans to find. Velarik roamed what had been his territory, his lands, and uncovered the terrible truth. His human stock were not merely diluted into mediocrity. They were not there at all.
It had taken time to find another vampire to tell him the sorry tale. Vampires, it turned out, were not doing well. The human population had crashed and it was not just Velariks precious herds that were depleted. The humans just were not there anymore.
Fortunately for Velarik, an afterlifetime of obsession meant he understood the behavioural patterns of humans quite well. He located areas where lingering humans might be. Then, pun not intended, he staked them out. He learned where lingering humans remained.
Other species, he discovered, had the same idea.
There was a new predator, an invasive species. They, too, seemed focused on finding the humans. Velarik had watched them hunt down one human to kill, but they had then just left the body. Left it! The vampire understood culling but one did not cull an unstable population. And they had culled a woman! Madness! You could rebuild a bloodline even if you lost some males but lose human females and your herd would be a managerial nightmare. Velarik was enraged with the other species.
The sensible thing to do was to take out the new predators. Velarik could do that himself. He had no idea, however, how he would get his herds back to scratch, and once they were, where would he be? He needed humans to self sustain. They tasted better with a little fire in their blood. So he made a plan.
He would take samples from the remaining humans, take them to a village near to his castle.
He would assess their stock value and plan his vision for a new bloodline appropriately.
And he would teach them learned behaviours to deal with the new predator.
Honestly, it sounded increasingly delicious. Of course, it would definitely need him to give his plan his full attention. Immediately.
Velarik could not help but feel rather pleased indeed
After centuries of slumber, a vampire awakens to find humanity on the brink of extinction by an alien invasion. Furious that his “cattle” are being wiped out, he lead terrified survivors to arms . The aliens soon learn that humans aren’t their only enemies and this predator doesn’t play fair.
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farewell
barca femeni x reader
summary: you didn't want to say goodbye, but you had to.
warnings: angst
the fluorescent lights hum above you, the sound barely noticeable over the pounding of your heart. you’re gripping the back of a chair so tightly your knuckles turn white.
your stomach churns, and for a moment, you consider turning around and walking out. but you can’t. they deserve to hear it from you—not from the media, not from rumors.
they’re all seated around the table, waiting. alexia’s brow furrows slightly, her eyes scanning your face.
“what’s wrong?” she asks softly, her voice full of concern.
you swallow hard, trying to find your voice.
“i… i need to talk to you all about something,” you swallow hard, trying to find your voice. your words shaky, unsure.
patri tilts her head, her lips quirking into a faint smile like she’s trying to ease your nerves. “you’re concerning us, y/n. just say it.”
your throat tightens, and your gaze drops to the table.
“it’s—” you pause, forcing the words out. “it’s about my future here. at barca.”
the silence that follows feels deafening. alexia leans forward, her elbows resting on the table. “what about your future?” she presses gently, but you can hear the undercurrent of worry in her tone.
“i don’t think…” you hesitate again, tears burning the back of your eyes. you shake your head, willing them not to fall.
“i don’t think i can stay here anymore.”
mapi sits up straighter, her eyes widening. “what are you talking about? you’re incredible. you’ve been amazing since you got called up from la masia. why would you even think about leaving?”
you bite your lip hard, the sharp sting grounding you for a moment. “i’m not saying it because i want to leave,” you say quickly, your voice trembling.
“i love this team. you’re my family. but…” you exhale shakily. “i’m barely playing. i’m barely getting minutes. i—i feel like i’m just… here. like i’ll never grow. like i’ll never be like you, mapi.”
alexia’s expression shifts to one of denial. “that’s not true, y/n. you’re already one of the best defenders we have. you’ve just got less experience. that comes with time.”
you shake your head, tears slipping down your cheeks now despite your best efforts.
“but when, alexia? when will i get that time? it’s always someone else—ingrid, mapi, ona, and marta– if its not them it's jana frido and esmee. i understand why. you’re all incredible but where does that leave me? i feel like i’ll always just be stuck here, waiting, hoping for scraps of time on the pitch.”
you pause, your chest tightening as the memory cuts through you again.
“do you remember the champions league final against lyon?” you ask, your voice trembling as you try to steady yourself.
alexia’s face softens, and she nods slowly. “of course,” she says, her voice quiet, like she already knows where this is going.
“we were up 2-0,” you begin, the ache in your chest growing heavier.
“i thought… i really thought it was going to be my moment. jona told me to warm up. he told me, ‘be ready, y/n. you’re going in soon.’ i could feel it. the adrenaline, the nerves, all of it. i was ready to step up. i knew i could help.”
you clench your fists, your nails digging into your palms as the frustration bubbles up.
“and then… nothing. i waited. and waited. and when lyon almost scored from bacha’s cross, i thought, ‘okay, this is it. this is when he’ll call me.’ but jona didn’t. he subbed on esmee. and i just stood there, watching as the game time slipped away from me.”
alexia’s jaw tightens, her hands balling into fists on the table. “that wasn’t fair to you, but jona is not here anymore.” she says, her voice sharp, laced with anger she doesn’t even try to hide.
“it’s not just that,” you continue, your voice breaking.
“it’s every time. we were up 5-0 against sevilla, and i thought, ‘there’s no way i won’t get minutes now.’ but he didn’t even glance my way. i warmed up for five minutes, and then the final whistle blew. i didn’t even get to step on the pitch.”
you shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as your voice rises.
“how am i supposed to grow if no one trusts me enough to let me try? i’m 21, alexia. i should be trusted to step up by now. i shouldn’t still be sitting on the bench, waiting for the chance that never comes.”
mapi’s face softens as she steps toward you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “that’s not on you,” she says gently, her voice steady.
“you’ve done everything right. we see you. we know how good you are.”
“but it doesn’t matter if the coach doesn’t,” you whisper, your voice cracking.
“and maybe he never will. another coach does though-- just somewhere else.”
the silence in the room is heavy, the weight of your words sinking into all of them. patri’s brows knit together as she looks at you, her voice soft.
“so… where are you going?” she asks carefully.
you nod, wiping at your face.
“i think it might be bayern. they’ve been watching me. my agent said they trust me. they’re giving me a chance to actually play, to prove myself.”
ingrid sighs, nodding slowly as understanding flickers across her face.
“it makes sense,” she says quietly. “bayern’s defense has holes, and a player like you? fast, smart, and tactical—you’d fit perfectly there.”
alexia’s eyes narrow, her jaw clenching again. “but they’re not us,” she says firmly, her voice almost pleading.
“we’re your family, y/n. don’t you see that?”
your chest tightens at her words. “i know,” you whisper, tears spilling over again.
“and i love all of you so much. but how can i stay when i feel like i’m being held back? i need to grow, alexia. i need to be more than just potential.”
alexia’s hands grip the edge of the table as she stares down at it, her shoulders tense.
“it’s not fair,” she mutters, her voice thick with emotion. “you shouldn’t have to choose between staying with us and growing as a player.”
“but i do,” you say softly, your voice trembling. “and i wish i didn’t. i wish things could be different. i can-can’t be stuck on the bench.”
patri frowns, her hand reaching across the table toward yours. “you’re not stuck. you’ve got all of us. you’re part of this team.”
“am i?” your voice cracks.
“like i said.. when we’re up 5-0, coach does not even sub me on sometimes. when they do, it’s the 70th minute, maybe later. i’m not ungrateful, but how can i grow if i don’t play?”
the room falls silent again. the lump in your throat grows heavier as you force yourself to continue.
“my agent said… they said i need to leave if i want to reach my full potential.”
alexia flinches slightly, her face falling.
“but… bayern?” alexia’s voice is filled with disbelief.
“you’re really going to leave? leave us?”
your chest tightens at her words. “ale, you know that i don’t want to,” you admit, your voice breaking.
“but what choice do i have? if i stay, i’ll never grow. i’ll always be stuck in the shadows of all of you.”
mapi’s gaze softens, and she gets up, walking over to you. she places a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm and reassuring. “we’ve all been where you are, y/n. that feeling of not being enough, of needing to prove yourself… it’s awful. but if this is what you need to do, then we support you.”
“mapi,” alexia snaps, her voice laced with frustration.
“how can you say that? she’s part of us.”
mapi sighs, turning to alexia.
“because i care about her, alexia. because she deserves this.”
tears are streaming down your face now, and you quickly wipe them away. “i’m sorry,” you whisper.
“i’m so sorry. i love you all so much. i wish it could be different.”
alexia stands, her jaw clenched as she stares at you. “when?” she finally asks, her voice low.
you meet her gaze, your heart breaking. “january. the transfer will be official then.”
alexia looks away, her hands on her hips as she takes a moment to process. when she finally looks back at you, her eyes are glassy. “you’ve grown so much,” she says, her voice barely steady. “you’ve become like a baby sister to me. i don’t want you to go.”
“i don’t want to leave,” you whisper, your voice trembling again. “but i have to.”
you know how reality is. you might keep contact with your barcelona teammates for a few weeks after transferring to bayern, and things will fade afterwards. that is how life goes, people move on, and you know you will have to as well if you want to fit in at bayern.
after joining the senior team two years ago from la masia, you thought that barcelona was going to be the club you played at for your whole career. you thought wrong.
alexia steps forward, pulling you into a tight hug. her arms wrap around you with a kind of desperation, like she’s afraid letting go will make you disappear. “you’re going to be amazing,” she murmurs. “but i’m going to miss you so much.”
patri joins the hug next, her smaller frame squeezing you tightly. “bayern doesn’t know how lucky they are,” she says softly. “they’re getting one of the best.”
“i wish coach would see what we all see in you, amor.” alexia says.
mapi and ingrid come next, the four of them holding you like they’re trying to etch the moment into memory. ingrid’s voice is calm and steady as she reassures you, “the bundesliga is a great league. you’ll fit in perfectly. trust yourself.”
when they finally pull away, alexia’s hand lingers on your shoulder. “promise me one thing,” she says, her voice firm.
“anything,” you reply.
“don’t lose that kindness or growing confidence,” she says, her lips curving into a bittersweet smile.
“it’s what makes you special. don’t let anyone take that from you.”
you nod, tears still spilling down your cheeks. “i won’t.”
as you leave the room, your heart aches with the weight of the goodbye. you never thought that you would say farewell to the love of your life, barcelona, but sometimes you have to let go of the things you love most for your own good.
masterlist
#barcelona femeni#fc barcelona#woso fanfics#woso community#woso x reader#alexia putellas#bayern frauen#ingrid engen#patri guijarro#mapi leon
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Hi!! I saw that your requests were open and I'm a big fan of your work and I was wondering if you could write something for rafe where reader is a pogue and they need to steal something from tanney hill but Rafe comes home unexpectedly and reader is supposed to distract him but they end up fucking >.< tyyy!!!
Oooh this is freaky. I love it.
My requests are still open.
smut!! -> >.<, penetrative sex, rafe gets flashed, dom! rafe, missionary, size kink, tummy bulge, rafe doesn't pull out..
In and out. That was the plan you and Sarah had agreed on. She would search through the office while you guarded the halls to make sure the coast remained clear.
Things got complicated. Plans changed when Sarah realized that Rafe had taken the liberty to add locks onto the cabinets where the files are kept. Your heartbeat drummed through your ears as you noticed the flash of headlights from Rafe's truck shine through the glass windows.
"Shit. Sarah, Rafe's back early. ETA on the files?" you panic, scurrying through the tiles halls until your feet take you into the office where the blonde crouched, picking the lock with a bobby pin. "I've almost got it. Distract Rafe, keep him as far from here as possible."
Your legs carried you as fast as they could, hoping to meet him outside the front door but he was already inside, your head bumping into his firm chest at full force, sending you tumbling to the ground. "Holy shit. What the-" He's mid-curse when he notices the face of the intruder. Your face.
"Y/n? What the hell are you doing in here?" His thoughts beat your lips to the answer as they geared the possibilities. His jaw locks as it dawns on him, "Where's Sarah, huh? Is she in here? You helping her steal from me now too?"
His steps are powerful as they begin to clear the premises but you desperately grab onto his bulging biceps. "No, Rafe! Stop." Not expecting him to obey so easily, he whips around, startling you.
Just over his shoulder, you see Sarah's head peek out of the office. She gives a wave with the needed files in hand. You had to make sure Rafe didn't turn around, at all costs.
"I thought you were different, y'know? I always thought you were too good to be hangin' with those pogues-" He's about to turn around while Sarah sneaks out the back. You do the first idiotic thing that comes to mind. Your fingers are hooking under the fabric of your top and heaving upwards to flash him your tits.
His sentences break off into chopped, undecided stutters and his hands slowly reach for your round mounds. His hands were hesitating until you gave him a slight nod. "H-holy shit. Most fuckin' perfect pair of tits I've ever seen." His mind is racing to catch up with his hands that gently massage your breasts and you let out a soft moan.
That's the last time either of your clothes were still draped across your bodies. The interaction was quickly followed by uncalculated steps and heated kisses toward the couch where he'd laid you down and fucked you dumb.
"You feel that?" Rafe relishes in the depths of your soaked cunt that sucked in his generous length. Summoning him to a state of bliss, serving a sentence he wished would last the rest of his lifetime.
His hand is placed arrogantly on your lower abdomen where the outline of his girth could be seen pushing up against your insides. Surely, the question is rhetorical as you'd been reduced to a whimpering mess under his touch.
"My dick's splittin' you open. You fuckin' like that shit?" His hips snap, and you squeal, your whole body jolting with every moment of his much bigger one. The sight of you beneath him was more than enough to get him riding along the edge of ecstasy.
"You got the best fuckin' pussy on the island, goddamnit." His lower lip is tucked between hiss teeth, doing his best to hold himself back.
Rafe wouldn't deny any allegations of previously imagining having you in this very position, but the reality puts the products of his imagination to great shame. "R-rafe!" You moan, unbelievably turned on by your 'sworn enemy'.
"Yeah-- shit. Me too." It's not long before his thrusts begin to falter with strained grunts but added force, and he cums not long after you do. He slowly pulls out, admiring the stringy white cum that kept you connected before he realizes what he's done.
"Rafe..." You slowly sit up, dreading the consequences of his actions. "Fuck--I know, shit. I jus' got so caught up- and your pussy jus' felt so good. I wasn't thinking straight." You're both scavenging to get your clothes on as he rambles on.
He reaches into his back pocket and grabs a wad of cash, "Go get a plan B, and we can both act like this never happened, okay?" With a cold gaze, you pocket the money before rushing outside where the Twinkie is waiting for you around the corner out of sight.
"Y/n! Oh my god what took you so long? We thought Rafe had done something to you." Sarah gasps once you finally pull open the doors of the van. Your head shakes, "Nothing. Just Rafe being Rafe, let's go."
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