#and he probably would have too but he still needs them !!!

[vrystalius]

Not saying “I love you“ back to the Squid game men.

How will they react if you don‘t say it back? In what scenario would they not say it back to you?

Pairing: The Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x gn!reader

Summary: Them not saying “I love you“, their reaction to you not saying “I love you“

Genre: fluff, a lil bit of angst sprinkled on top

(Pre-Squid game)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It barely ever happens, really. He adores everything about you, from your face, voice, body and the ground you walk on; that man is ready to worship you like a devoted follower would to the most merciful goddess. Therefor he would always be aware of how to make your day a little better, even if it‘s just a small “I love you” or a gentle kiss here and there.

The first thing you hear from him in the morning is a groggy voice mumbling a small “Good morning love...” into your ear while warm kisses were trailed down your back.

While standing in the kitchen and searching the fridge for any signs of a tasty breakfast, a small “I love you, I‘ll be back later!“ would echo slightly through the apartment as the front door closed.

Once, he did forget to say his usual I love you on the way out. He thought about how he possibly could forget? You‘re probably overthinking everything now and think what you might‘ve done wrong or do to offend him. You didn‘t, though! He was just too caught up in perfecting his appearance because his damn hair refused to obey and submit to his meticulous styling.

The poor man was almost scared to come home. As some sort of peace offering, he bought some of your favorite take-out food alongside some dessert, flowers and a new bracelet he thought you might like. Anything to try and make you know that he does really love you.

“Apologies, it completely slipped my mind. It will never happen again my sunshine. I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

His face may be neutral and his expressions calculated but his features soften up immensely when you show even an ounce of affection. His smirk shifts into a dreamy smile, the crinkles around his mouth shifting and becoming bigger, his eyes twinkling just a little. He just can’t suppress when you even look at him.

Your kisses and words energise him, gift him life, so whenever you don’t give him that little boost of dopamine, he gets visibly more tense in a way.

The silence that followed after his usual “I love you my darling, I’ll be back later!” was almost eerie to him. He stuck his head back into the kitchen to check if you even heard him. You glanced back at him for a moment and gave your husband a dismissive head nod. So you did hear him?

Silently, he left the apartment and went on with his usual day during that time of the year. For some reason, today he is especially looking forward to slap his elders for loosing a damn children’s game. His face remained neutral and had his usual smirk on his face, but deep inside, he’s offended, confused, worried, stressed; all the negative emotions someone can feel after their spouse doesn’t reincorporate ones affection.

Do you want a divorce? Because hell no, he’d never let you go no matter how hard you

But once he got a little text message on his phone that read a simple: “Need cuddles in bed later pls. Got some snacks too. Love you.”, all of his worries washed away in an instant. You probably were still too sleepy to answer this morning.

A smile spread over his face as he thought about slipping into your arms tonight. Isn’t it ridiculous how he melt like putty in your hands?

“You forgot something this morning and it did worry me a lot. But it doesn’t matter, it’s silly anyway.”

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s actually quite rare to hear Thanos say “I love you” word for word. He still feels awkward committing himself to the relationship you have and those three magic words feel so heavy on his tongue, so he’ll rephrase them to suit his level of comfort. “Love ya”, “Thanos loves you” and “Me too” are his ways to dodge the action to reincorporate those sweets words you shower him with.

Thanos only really says “I love you” if you two are alone, sober and you holding him in your arms. To be cradled by someone he admires, cares and loves so much makes him want to cry for some reason, but he suppresses those emotions and instead buries his face in your shoulder as your hand soothingly runs up and down his back.

Those are the times you hear a small “I love you…” being mumbled against your warm skin.

So quiet it’s almost unnoticeable, yet it was there. You know Su-bong needs time to get used to everything, so you’ll settle with a small audio message-rap in reply to your usual “I love you” text message.

“Back to the kitty ‘cause she kinda pretty, I can’t stop looking at her ti- ti- ti-face.. Anyways, thinking of you babygirl. Iloveyatoo.” (You barely caught him saying this the way how quietly he mumbled it into the mic)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

It’s fine. It’s cool. You don’t have to reassure him every day that you love him, it’s totally fine. You still love him like you did the day before.

It causes a deep panic inside of Thanos when you don’t give him his usual “I love you” text in the morning after he had woken up. He kept checking his phone like a madman, while he was brushing his teeth, peeking his arm and head out of the shower in the middle of shampooing, staring at his text messages while microwaving himself an convenience store meal. Nothing.

Not wanting to reach out first and appear clingy, he decided to write you like he is not having a full blown eternal panic attack. A small voice message here, a picture of his food there, a selfie from the bottom to show off his double chin, anything really.

You replied like normal but still, his eyes searched for the three key words. I. Love. You.

Thanos doesn’t want to admit to himself or to anyone for that matter that your calls, texts, hell, you coming over is like the most addictive drug to him. And he had his share of all kinds of colourful drugs.

His foot was nervously tapping the ground while his finger kept ringing your poor doorbell until you were forced to answer. He gave you a close look up and down, his lips formed into a pout of sorts.

“You okay? You didn’t text me you love me this morning. It’s totally cool and all but like… do you want to break up with me or something?”

Nam-gyu // Player 124

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Similar to Thanos, at first, Nam-gyu barely ever told you how much he loved you, liked you even. He just assumed you already knew and his actions were enough. A small side hug there and ruffling your hair here had to be enough for the rest of the week anyway.

He is guarded, afraid of commitment and to be frank in belief that you’re using him for the longest of time. Maybe you’re just “dating” him to get access to high-end drugs, all kinds of clubs or whatever else reason there is there to date him but for love.

You had to say those three magic words first for him to get comfortable with the thought that you are actually just want to date and love him. It came to him in the middle of a night shift at a random club he was supposed to promote. A moment of enlightenment.

Nam-gyu hid in a bathroom stall with his phone and ignored whatever the couple was doing next door, writing you a whole paragraph about what he was thinking, feeling, before deleting everything again because he thought he’d come off as some kind of pussy if he’d sent that.

His first time telling you how much he loved you was at your place. A casual evening watching some random movie you picked out while being arms deep in a bag of chips and dressed like a homeless person, Nam-gyu was staring up at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the universe even during this ungraceful moment of yours, admiring you in silence until finally…

“I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Did he fuck up again? Do or say something wrong? Don’t you love him anymore? Was there someone else?? His thoughts go ballistic as he stared at the screen of his phone with a deadpan-expression, trying to shake the crippling fear and nervousness off while looking nonchalant.

Nam-gyu’s finger kept hovering over the call button to check on you in case something happened because there could be a whole other person talking to him by how there were no affirmations at all.

He doesn’t want to appear clingy or too attached to you as that may scare you off or even disgust you, so Nam-gyu’s casually mention that one time you didn’t say “I love you” while fidgeting with his ring, trying to appear indifferent about it while intensely watching your facial expression shift to try and detect if you’re lying about your reasoning or not.

Your boyfriend is afraid to not be good enough, too much, too little. Your little affirmations give him reassurance, every day a little more until he’s full convinced that you do really, really love him.

“Hey, uhhh. Did you forget anything today?… No? You sure? Mkay.”

Dae-ho // Player 388

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Never happens. Either he is dead and not able to reply to you or already said it multiple times throughout the day. Dae-ho has separation anxiety and gets nervous when he doesn’t have you in line of his sight or not around him in general, that’s why he always tells you how much he loves you whenever he can.

Off to the bathroom? I love you. Bringing the trash out? I love you. Getting dressed? You’re gorgeous and I love you. You could be simply existing and Dae-ho would bury his face in your neck and mumble a soft I love you into your warm skin, his lips planting a soft kiss here and there.

Dae-ho is just a little scared about saying his usual affirmation in front of his family, mostly his father. He’s a very affectionate and physical man but he still wants to look like the tough-marine-son his dad wants to see.

His sisters know better though, they see how their brother’s eyes twinkle in delight when you help his mom out in the kitchen with the dinner.

He does make it up to you after coming home though. Your boyfriend will stuff the leftovers his mom gave him into the microwave and usher to you made yourself comfortable on the couch while he makes some preparations to completely pamper you for the rest of the evening.

Sometimes Dae-ho’ll even try to flirt a little but he’s still a little awkward in that department.

“Hey, do you want some snacks with that? A drink? O-Or am I enough of a snack…?”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Every time Dae-ho tells you that he loves you, you always reply with equal enthusiasm. How could you not? That golden retriever of a man gets that almost childish smile of his whenever you kiss his cheek or just tell him that he looks handsome today.

Once, you tested how he’d react when you don’t give him his hourly dose of dopamine by deflecting or ignoring his touches.

As his arms securely snaked around your waist and gently pulled you against his torso, you paid him no mind and continued to stir the ramen in the food container. He watched the noodles move in circles and gave your waist a gentle poke, trying to pull your attention to him. Dae-ho’s eyes slowly dimmed and the edges of his smile turned downwards.

The silence made him seriously nervous. You could feel his rapidly increasing heartbeat drum against your back.

“Hey… is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. Can you talk to me?…”

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Gi-hun always reassures you of his love, even during arguments. He wants you to know that he cherishes and loves you for the rest of his life and that you are his everything. Whenever he doesn’t say I love you, something must’ve happened.

He has been missing for a whole week and you had no idea where your boyfriend went. Gi-hun didn’t leave a note, a voice mail, no nothing!

And after he returned and suddenly began giving you expensive gifts, the same boyfriend that used to ask you for money to get himself an convenience store dinner, now began buying you new headphones, bracelet and whatever else you even eyed.

It was nice, sure, but you were more worried about his mental state. He was paranoid and quiet, kept checking his whole body for some kind of tracker and barely ever spoke what was on his mind. Gi-hun began having panic attacks and you were barely able to leave his side because of how terrified he was to leave you alone.

He barely touched you, gave you kisses or affection. He changed after whatever happened during that week he went missing.

While running your fingers through his hair, trying to make him fall asleep after being awake for two days straight, he sleepily stared up at you through his dyed-red hair. His voice was quiet, broken almost.

“I’m sorry. Please… know that I love you. I love you so much.. Don’t leave me, please… please...”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

Your boyfriend called out to you but you didn’t quite hear what he said, so you replied with an “yeah!” and just hoped that that’s an appropriate response to whatever he tried to tell or ask you. It wasn’t.

Gi-hun stood there for a couple of moments, waiting on your reply to yelling “I love you!” across the whole apartment. When nothing came, he didn’t call out to you again. You were probably busy with something or don’t want him with your right now, he gets that.

Later though, thoughts of self-doubt began to cook up inside his mind. As he bit all his nails to shreds he overthought about how you had enough of him now. Maybe you are falling out of love now after how the death games fucked up his mind and body. You’re surely fed up with his paranoia and secretive behaviour, how much he has been obsession over finding a weird salesman. Surely.

The metallic taste that spread inside his mouth after biting the skin surrounding his nails began to open and bleed finally pulled Gi-hun out of his self-destructive thoughts that continued to circle like a toy train. Picking up his throwaway phone and choosing the one contact he saved on every single burner phone he had as “Reason to smile ❤️” and pressing the call button.

“Gi-hun? What’s wrong?” Your voice forced a small smile to form on his face. He hesitated

“Hey. Just wanted to ask if I should bring some take out home tonight. That’s all.”

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s purely just to tease you. When bored, In-ho will make you his greatest entertainment.

He likes making you annoyed and flustered, so he’ll intentionally ignore you just to make you react and pout at him adorably while he was trying so hard to keep his stone cold face and not break into a shit-eating grin and maybe even pull on your cheek to make you whine even more.

In-ho adores your whole being and cherishes all of your affections, so he’ll let himself get showered in them any tome he can.

Expect you to he cuddled up on his lap while he was leaning back in the leather chair, mumbling a complaint about how you covered his whole face in kisses but managed to miss the bridge of his nose. He will not allow you to move off his lap until you covered his whole face in kisses again as compensation for that mistake of yours.

So, In-ho’ll intentionally not give you affection so you pay even more attention to him. He is like a cat in that way weirdly enough.

Once you finally break his facade, the flood gates will open and you will be showered, bathed, drowned in his affection, physical and verbal.

“Fine. I’ll say it just because you’ve been so good to me today. I love you, my dearest, lovely darling.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

In-ho has a dedicated frequency on his walkie-talkie for you, so he can call in and ask you to come to his office for a kiss that cannot wait, to inform you that he is in the bedroom and retiring for the day or just to tell you that he loves you randomly throughout the day.

Of course, you’d always reply back with your own gadget, but to pay back his infinite teasing he has done to you, you decided to ignore him the way he sometimes does to you. Payback.

Your husband called into your frequency. “Dove, are you free right now? Come to my office, I miss you.” and so your game begins. You simply ignored his request and continued getting comfortable in your bed and all the sheets surrounding you, grinning to yourself as you awaited the next time In-ho calls in again, for which you don’t have to wait long for.

“Darling, I am waiting. Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?” Your grin widened as you heard how impatient he was slowly getting with the lack of your response. “I can see you in the bedroom.” That one caught you off guard. Did he install cameras in your shared bedroom??

Almost on cue, your bedroom door opened, revealing the masked Frontman. His shoulders were tense and you could feel his intense state through the mask. You stared back, not expecting how quickly your husband would cave in and visit you himself. Innocently, you batted your lashes at him.

In-ho slipped his mask off and carelessly tossed it on the nightstand. “Why are you ignoring me? Are you upset or just moody?” Unimpressed, you silently glared at him. He gave you an equally uninterested look and leaned down to your face to give you a small peck on your cheek. “Not enough. More.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as his lips cracked into a smile.

“Demanding, aren’t we? Fine. As you wish.”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading <3

Watch me announce that I’m going to post In-ho’s yandere profile and proceed to get hit with the most ungodly group-assignment in Chemistry. Anyways, take this as an apology! Had to write a little fluff for them since the only thing I’m finding is smut 🙏😭 I’m not complaining but this fluff prompt came to me like a truck during a class of mine. It was originally inspired by this post and I made a similar one before for the Demon Slayer hashira. Check it out if you’re interested!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[fear-is-truth]

𝓝𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝓐𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 ── ft. 𝐍𝐀𝐌-𝐆𝐘𝐔 ┊남규

warnings — MDNI 18+・ fem!reader ・english is not my first language so bear with me・not proofread

❥ a/n: think i might’ve gone a lil carried away. oh well

𝓐 = 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 . . . what he’s like after sex

nam-gyu is not particularly soft or sentimental about it. he’s not the type to whisper sweet nothings or linger too long in the moment unless it suits him. aftercare for him is minimal, functional—if it happens at all.

he might roll over or light a cigarette, letting the smoke curl lazily into the air as he decompresses. but he’s not completely thoughtless; he’d notice if you looked uncomfortable or out of sorts. “you good?” might be all he says, his tone almost indifferent, but the way his eyes flicker toward you gives him away—he’s serious.

if you ask for something—water, a towel, or cuddles—nam-gyu would sigh like it’s an inconvenience, but he’d still do it. begrudgingly, but he’d do it. he’s not used to giving, so gestures like helping clean up or asking if you’re okay feel foreign to him. he’ll grumble about it, but deep down, there’s a satisfaction in being needed.

his movements are kinda clumsy when he bothers to help. he’ll shove a glass of water into your hand or awkwardly brush your hair away from your face. physical closeness is rare unless you initiate it. if you nuzzle against him, he’ll freeze for a second before relaxing, letting you rest against his chest.

𝓑 = 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 . . . his favorite body part of his & yours

nam-gyu is obsessed with his hands—long, slender fingers that are both capable and calculating. he knows how to use them, and he likes to watch the way they move, whether he’s lighting a cigarette, adjusting his rings or gliding them over your skin.

after fights, he secretly enjoys when you tend to his scraped or bruised knuckles, even though he’ll complain about the sting of antiseptic. the way you fuss over him feels intimate, and he secretly enjoys it.

there’s a lewd fascination with how his hands look around your neck or slipping past your lips for you to suck on. not just sexual (though it is very much sexual); it’s also the thrill of control and trust, how you let him push boundaries.

has a not-so-subtle fixation on your breasts, and it’s written all over him whenever you wear something that accentuates it. tube tops, low necklines—they might as well be his weakness. his eyes linger too long, dark with something both appreciative and borderline lascivious, and he doesn’t even bother hiding it. likes to encircle his arms around you from behind under the guise of a hug, but uses that as an opportunity to grope and squeeze at your tits.

𝓒 = 𝐂𝐔𝐌 . . . anything to do with cum, basically

nam-gyu is not reckless when it comes to stuff like this; he uses condoms most of the time—even though he would prefer to fuck you raw, the two of you aren’t ready to deal with the consequences or extra effort. not in this economy…

he generally hates mess. not because he’s a clean freak, but because he’s practical to a fault. the thought of having to change the sheets annoys him enough to avoid it altogether. if things get messy, he’ll grumble about it, probably throw the blanket over the spot, and deal with it later—or make you deal with it.

sure, the sight of you on your knees—lips swollen, eyes watering—gulping down his load does something to him, but what he loves more is making a mess on you, your body is his favourite canvas. he’s not subtle about it either. the lazy smirk on his face when he sees the sticky aftermath on your chest, abdomen or ass? pure satisfaction. “guess we need a shower now,” he’ll say, acting like it’s the most natural solution. the shower is just another excuse to keep his hands on you.

𝓓 = 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 . . . pretty self explanatory

pansexual or bisexual but would rather choke than admit it, even to himself.

and yeah, he’s totally a panty thief. likes to jerk off with your lace panties wrapped around his cock.

𝓔 = 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 . . . how experienced is he? does he know what he’s doing?

yes, he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s not shy about letting you know. his confidence is almost obnoxious, but it’s earned—he’s had enough practice to back it up.

his body count isn’t as high as he brags it to be, but working as a club promoter has its perks. his looks, charm, and the nightlife scene give him a lot of opportunities.

𝓕 = 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 . . . this goes without saying

definitely missionary or any position that lets him see your face. it’s not necessarily about the intimacy—he just likes watching your reactions, like he’s trying to gauge how much control he has.

he’s also into standing positions in small or semi-public spaces, like bathrooms or closets. the risk factor gives him a thrill, and he loves the idea of being impulsive and spontaneous with you.

when he’s sleepy but still wanting to fuck, he defaults to cowgirl. he’s too tired to put in much effort, so he’ll let you take the reins while he lounges back, half-lidded but still enjoying the view of your bouncing tits. his hands won’t stay idle, though—he’ll grab your hips, guiding you just enough to stay in control without actually moving much himself.

𝓖 = 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐘 . . . is he more serious in the moment? or is he humorous? etc.

he’s playful and teasing during foreplay—loves getting a rise out of you. but the second things escalate, he flips a switch and gets super serious. no laughing or joking in the middle of it—it’s like he’s hyper-focused, almost like he has something to prove.

𝓗 = 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 . . . how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

the carpet matches the drapes, though he doesn’t think about it much. also, he’s naturally sparse down there, but still keeps it trimmed. not obsessive about grooming, but he knows the bare minimum is necessary.

𝓘 = 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐘 . . . how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect

during sex, nam-gyu isn’t traditionally romantic, but he’s deeply physical and expressive in his own way. he doesn’t rely on words or overt displays of affection; instead, he shows his emotions through the way he fucks you, like he’s trying to prove something to himself—or maybe to you. he thrives on control and the feeling of being desired, so he focuses on what gets the strongest reactions out of you.

emotionally, he struggles with vulnerability. if he feels too exposed or like things are getting too intimate, he’ll mask it by being rougher or redirecting the focus back onto you. for him, sex is both an outlet for his insecurities and a way to feel closer (in the spiritual sense and literal sense) to you without actually having to open up.

𝓙 = 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅𝐅 . . . masturbation headcanon

he’s pretty average about it—not an excessive masturbator, not abstinent; it’s just another part of his routine. usually to porno magazines, or even just your instagram beach photos. if you guys have made sex tapes, then he’d jerk off to that.

if you ever walked in on him, he’d play it off with a smirk and a sarcastic comment like, “oh, hey, you’re just in time.”

𝓚 = 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 . . . one or more of his kinks

asphyxiation: there’s something strangely erotic to him about having his hand around your neck, feeling your pulse beneath his fingers. the power dynamic in that moment is a huge turn-on for him.

praise kink: he’ll never in a million years admit it, but hearing you tell him how good he is or how much you need him in that breathy way fuels his ego like nothing else. one of the rare things that makes him feel genuinely confident rather than overcompensating.

light bondage: he’s into improvising—using things like neckties or scarves to tie your wrists.

𝓛 = 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 . . . favourite places to do the deed

your place or his are his favorites. while nam-gyu enjoys the occasional quickie in the club’s bathroom or a blowjob in his car, he’s not big on real risks—he likes the privacy and control that comes with familiar settings. the bedroom is his domain, where he feels most comfortable. to have the freedom to let loose without worrying about interruptions or consequences.

𝓜 = 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 . . . what turns him on

revealing outfits drive him crazy. whether it’s a short skirt, a crop top, or something sheer, he won’t bother hiding how much he’s staring. if anyone else is looking too? it flips a switch in him, equal parts possessive and turned on.

you being a little wild, rebellious, or feisty absolutely does it for him. that lana del rey lyric, “i heard that you like the bad girls, honey is that true?” yup. very true. might as well be written about him. he loves seeing you do rebellious, crazy shit—flipping off a guy who’s being a creep, starting a catfight—makes his blood rush south.

𝓝 = 𝐍𝐎 . . . something he wouldn’t do, turn offs

overtly public sex is a hard no for him. he likes the idea of risk but not the actual consequences, so anything too exposed or risky is off the table. he’s not into watersports either.

𝓞 = 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 . . . preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

definitely more of a receiver. he’s selfish about it and won’t hesitate to ask for a blowjob outright, expecting you to comply like it’s second nature.

however, nam-gyu knows when to step up—like when you’re mad at him or during your time of the month. in those moments, he’ll willingly switch roles and be a giver, partly to make amends and partly because it’s one of the few ways he knows how to take care of you.

𝓟 = 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 . . . is he fast and rough? slow and sensual?

most of the time, he fucks you fast and rough, driven by his impatience and desire to be in control. he doesn’t like drawing things out unless he’s teasing you to get a reaction—then, he’ll slow down just enough to keep you frustrated.

when he’s drunk or sleepy, though, he’s slower, almost a sensual edge to it, like he’s savouring the moment because he’s too tired to rush. it feels more intimate than usual, even if he doesn’t realise it.

if he’s half-asleep but still horny, he’ll put in the effort despite his exhaustion. it’s less about performance and more about fulfilling that need, but his thrusts are deeper and in a more rhythmic, relaxed tempo. he’d probably crash right after.

𝓠 = 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 . . . his opinions on quickies

quickies are practically his bread and butter, especially when he’s at work or in a time crunch. he often initiates one in random places around club pentagon if he thinks you can get away with it. it’s part of the thrill for him—he loves the challenge of making you cum in a tight timeframe.

𝓡 = 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊 . . . is he game to experimenting? does he take risks? etc.

he’s open to experimenting as long as it doesn’t cross into his hard “no” zones.

𝓢 = 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀 . . . how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?

if he’s sober, he can usually manage one solid rounds, maybe two if he’s really into it. he tends to push himself, but he doesn’t have endless energy—he says it’s “more about quality over quantity.”

if he’s high, it’s hit or miss. sometimes drugs make him last longer, but other times, he burns out quickly, cummin’ too early and getting embarrassed about it.

𝓣 = 𝐓𝐎𝐘𝐒 . . . does he own toys? does he use them? on you or himself?

nam-gyu doesn’t spend money on toys, but he has a friend who runs a sex shop, and he’s shameless about “borrowing” or pressuring them to hand over new stuff.

he’s not really dependent on them but enjoys using them for variety, especially if it’s something you’re curious about. his main focus is on impressing you, so if toys can help, sure he’s all in.

𝓤 = 𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 . . . how much he likes to tease

“unfair” is his middle name…and he’s so mean about it. he’ll pretend to ignore you, act aloof, or be completely indifferent just to get under your skin. loves it when you get flustered and whiny, feeding off your reactions like it’s his favourite pastime.

he’s got zero sportsmanship, though. if you flip the script and start teasing him, he’ll immediately get defensive or annoyed, like, “can you stop? it’s not funny.” he can dish it out but can’t take it.

𝓥 = 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 . . . how loud he is, what sounds he makes

not super loud, definitely on the quieter side. more of a grunter and groaner. dirty talk happens, but it’s not a constant thing—he saves it for when he wants to rile you up. most of the time, his focus is on showing rather than talking.

𝓦 = 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 . . . a random headcanon

okay, hear me out: ever since he met the famous rapper in club pentagon he has some weird fantasy involving you, him, and thanos (his threesome dream team). it started as a passing thought—but the more he thought about it, the more it spiraled into something oddly specific.

𝓧 = 𝐗-𝐑𝐀𝐘 . . . what’s going on under those clothes

namgyu’s body is lean and deceptively strong. he’s not overly bulky, but his frame has a wiry, muscular quality to it. he was built for stealth and speed rather than brute force. his abs aren’t overly defined, but a v-line runs down to his waist.

okay okay i know y’all are waiting for this… approximately 6 inches erect and slightly curved to the right. rosy pink tip. definitely veiny, has a vein that starts on the side and breaks off into two and one goes all the way to the tip.

𝓨 = 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . . how high is his sex drive?

working at a club means being constantly surrounded by temptation and indulgence, which naturally keeps his desire elevated. despite this, nam-gyu’s self-control is remarkable—largely because of the demands of his environment. he’s learned how to compartmentalise and maintain razor-sharp focus, even in high-stakes or chaotic situations. but when the moment presents itself, when there’s no pressing business to handle or distractions to fend off, all that restraint slips away, and his libido skyrockets.

𝓩 = 𝐙𝐙𝐙 . . . how quickly he falls asleep afterwards

when he’s had a particularly intense time or pushed himself physically and mentally, he’ll crash immediately. on nights where he’s less physically exerted, it’s more of a slow burn—he lays in bed, smoke some fags to decompress, getting lost in the post-coital haze as his mind wanders.

 fear-is-truth 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[mimipolo]

hey :) could you do a nam-gyu fic where thanos is flirting/put claim on the reader, but she clearly like nam-gyu more. just him dealing with his attraction for her, but still trying to be on thanos' good side

Nam-gyu x reader

I don't know if I did this right I had like five different ideas for how it could pan out so I hope this is alright

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

You were content with the idea of completely ignoring Thanos, his odd claims and even weirder way of flirting. Sure, it was fairly entertaining but it wasn't something you planned to put up with for long.

That was until he walked up to your bunk with a friend in towe. A friend that immediately caught your eye.

"Ayy Senorita!" He draws out in his usual musical tone, behind him a man that looked uninterested, perhaps even annoyed to be there making you grin slightly.

"Aren't ya gonna come down." A whiney voice calls up to you, his face pulling into a frown as he crossed his arms.

"Dude, this a waste of time let's just go." He's still behind Thanos, a hand already on his shoulder, nudging him slightly, hoping to convince him to turn back, and as his gaze went from him to you he stops. The eye contact he made with you was so undeniable you actually looked at the rapper directly for once, startled by how your heart suddenly raced.

"I think I'll stay and eat up here...thanks though." Your refusal immediately has him grumbling as he dramatically pivots to walk away. But his friend hangs back a small moment longer, the brief acknowledgement held a value only you two could fathom.

"Come on Nam-su we outt." Thanos drawls lazily, his arms in his pockets as he swayed from side to side.

"Nam-gyu..." He sighs defeatedly, it was pretty clear this wasn't the first time and likely wouldn't be the last time he'd have to correct the rapper of his name.

Nam-gyu huh? You wouldn't like to admit it but you kept the name close to your mind, maybe he'd favour you for remembering it. Which was a weird thought to have for someone you hadn't actually properly met yet.

You hoped to though.

And he did too, when Thanos was insistent on getting you to eat with them he was almost instantly irritated. Why? What was the point of that? From the beginning he wasn't a fan of any distractions that could lead Thanos away from him, it was inconvenient and if he wanted to win he needed both their focus on that damn cash prize.

What he hadn't prepared for was the you. You who Thanos had miraculously spotted among all the bland people in this weird murder game. And he would never admit it, especially not to him that he understood why he was so hooked on you.

And with that came a jealousy. A deep, seething jealousy that came from nowhere. Now he was frustrated with himself, Thanos and you. And the worst of it all is him actually being just as bummed you didn't come down to eat with them.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

From then on there was this tense love triangle between the three of you which Thanos held no part in. You had no intention of making it clear to the man you weren't interested, first of all: it'd be too much of a hassle, and second because of his favour you've been able to survive games you probably wouldn't have. So you'd put up with him, no big deal.

The only thing, no, person making this harder was Nam-gyu. He was also seemingly smart enough to judge it's best to not make any big move as you were both benefitting from being close to Thanos. But it was painfully clear his attention was always on you, his eyes only snapping back alive at the mention of your name during the moments Thanos seems to talk forever. Having to tip toe around the unspoken attraction towards each other was fine by you, exhilarating even. But you're really starting to wonder if Thanos really can't notice when you and the longer haired man only glance between each other whenever he flirts with you.

Apparently the small amused smiles and prolonged eye contact wasn't enough for Nam-gyu. This could end badly if he was caught but he couldn't care less at this point, this whole time it's just felt like the two of you were saying a million things while saying nothing at all. And he'd actually be damned if he let Thanos hold him back from talking to you. He believed you felt the same, it's not just anyone that looks at him so fondly and sees him as an individual. You saw him like he was someone familiar and when he lies awake, he's convinced that's why he's so drawn to you.

Which is also why he's sneaking to see you during lights out. Was this a good idea?

Probably not.

But he'd already climbed past a snoring Avengers threat so he might as well see it through. He sucked in his breath harshly when he heard the familiar snoring pattern pause when he finally made it to the ground. His heart only relaxing when it fell back into rythmn. Not that he was too worried though, he had thousands of excuses on the tip of his tongue. A benefit that came with being a pathological liar.

He is oddly greatful that the majority of the people that were on your bunk had died, the only remaining players being two beds above yours. Meaning he didn't need to sweat about not waking anyone on his way up. As he begins climbing he draws to a question. What if you're not even awake? Even worse what if you are or he wakes you up and you think he's some weirdo. He physically shakes the thought away as he continues his ascent, he just needed to see you, then he'd go back.

It was odd being able to see you so up close, watching the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. Seeing you like this calmed him down and made him want to fall asleep himself.

He freezes when you shift and his hair brushes your nose, your face scrunching up as you waft away the unwanted texture with a groggy hand. Eyes squinting open to see a stunned Nam-gyu instead of a stray price of fluff from your pillow.

What, is he doing here?

You gasp sharply, immediately sitting up and accidentally banging your head against the bed above you in your rush. He's quietly shushing you as you hold your head in whine in pain. You only look back at him when the pain has slightly subsided, hissing one last time before tear pricked eyes meet his.

"The hell are you doing here?"

"Can't I come to see you?" You squint at his words, they pissed you off, obviously he could but you were literally sleeping?

"You came to watch me sleep?" You ask sarcastically, grinning knowingly as he groaned and rolled his eyes.

Seeing as you weren't entirely put off by his night visit he crawls onto your bed fully, catching you a bit off guard but you make no objection against it which makes him strangely glad.

"Thanos isn't any good, you shouldn't be with him." He says bitterly, when you don't say anything immediately after he looks away from you and runs his hair behind his ears.

"...And you're saying you are?" you say with the slight raise of your brow.

You were just fucking around you already liked him more from the moment you saw him. Long disobedient hair and an angular face and a surprisingly sharp tongue when provoked. Ticking most of your boxes, you just wanted to see how he'd respond.

"Nah... but I could be better, than him at least." He says with a small huff which makes you laugh slightly, and he immediately notes he's never heard it before.

"I'll see you to that." Your words make his heart seize up but in the way when he's won when he didn't expect to. The carefree act he had going was going to crumble if you kept being so casual with him.

It's only now he feels the tensity of the situation, sitting in your bed in an area mostly secluded. He was actually feeling nervous being around you without Thanos there as some barrier to the two of you. You're looking at him expectantly as if waiting for him to make some smart ass response but you're so pretty right now. Your eyes on him and him alone. He's keeping quiet because if he spoke as he was now... he couldn't promise he wouldn't immediately embarass himself.

Instead he looks between you and the wall, his eyes scanning your face each time before he looked away. Despite the chaos of feelings reeling from inside him his face was mostly unreadable. The only thing telling you anything was his jaw tightening and loosening, maybe chewing the inside of his cheek.

You tilt your head to see if he'd look at you if you were more in his line of view but he only locked eyes with you for a moment before looking up.

He was nervous?

The thought made your chest swell even though you knew he was probably just deep in thought. Either way your fighting back a smile as you take his face in your hands and place a soft kiss on his lips. It was honestly amazing how he came back to reality from the contact. Staring at you with wide confused eyes as if questioning why you would even do that.

And when you start to laugh to yourself quietly he's chuckling flustered beside you. His lips pursed tight to not let the grin on his face appear, but his feelings were clear in the new softness in his eyes.

Nodding lightly like he's fully savoured your presence he's manoeuvring himself to leave your bed, giving the underside of your knee a light squeeze before settling on the ladder.

"G'night..."

"Night Nam-gyu."

The first genuine smile of the night freely slips onto his face, making your own smile appear before he's making his descent back down. Grinning to himself like an idiot all the way back to his bed because he managed to get the girl Thanos saw first.

| ₊˚⊹ᰔ

Ever since then it's been this mutual joke between you two. You're holding back a snicker as Thanos serenades you because Nam-gyu's right behind him rolling his eyes and mocking him.

Nightly routines of him visiting your bed comforted you on those nights you couldn't will yourself to sleep. There's been more than one occasion he's stayed the night and forgot to go back to his bed and when questioned about where he was so early in the morning it's always "Needed to piss". He's glancing back at you accusingly as if you forced him to stay (you asked repeatedly very nicely.)

I love him sm I'm gonna cook him into a lasagna.

[euphoria-looney]

Who Said Money Can't Buy You Happiness?

Yan! Batfam x Princess!Reader

Special

"Mother said be good, father said be nice. That was always their advice. So be nice, [name], good, [name]. Nice, good, good nice (tighter!). What's the good of being good if everyone is blind. Always leaving you behind." Prologue: Into the Woods.

(I needed the full thing in it)

Divider Creds: @selysie and @anitalenia

This plot was inspired by @niwaart and @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff

Life is not fair, and while the rich eat like pigs the poor people eat scraps and still are charged no matter if they can afford it or not.

As a princess, I understood that.

I am labeled as the defective princess, the Imperial Princess of Gotham, [name] Wayne.

While all my siblings were intelligent and had strength, talent, and power that upstaged most people, I had none of that, I wasn't smart, actually, I was a complete dunce. I had no strength to my name and was disgracefully unable to use my magic, but I knew I had some...

I had to. Right?

My talent, probably being an embarrassment to my family name.

My mother, she also glanced at me with disgust, she made sure if I wasn't able to do anything useful I'll at least have etiquette while being useless.

I admired my mother, she was beautiful, graceful, sharp, and always upheld her image.

She sneers at me when I mess up, which is all the time, but we don't talk about that.

Oh gosh, and my siblings they were all so amazing.

Barbara held the same personality as our mother, she rose the social class fast. Too bad she doesn't talk to me, I think she would be a great person to take an example from!

Stephanie and Cassandra tagged behind Barbara. They were like those cool trios in the books.

Yes, I read books, but they don't count since they are all novels.

Damian berates me on the fact that I'm nothing like them, but it just shows he cares, doesn't it?

Dick will he coaches Damian he's the #1 Knight of our kingdom and woman all over swoon over him, he talks to me... sometimes.

Duke, well he's a gentleman we don't talk but he's nice enough to greet me.

Jason, well like those novels he'd be titled the 'bad boy' and it does in fact charm lots and lots of ladies.

Tim, it impresses me every time at how smart he is. Maybe that's why we don't have many conversations because I'm not on his level.

And my father, well, it's okay. He's the emperor of course he's busy, I can't ask for attention that would be so childish!

It's of course upsetting when they all hang out without me, but they're just letting me have more time to myself to read! If you think about it they just care about me.

I remember we went to an event, and I was alone and no one talked to me, but it's fine, that's when I met the love of my life, he was like a prince charming, I bumped into him and he caught me before I hit the floor, I swear I fell right then.

Connor Kent.

Then I found out he was in fact a prince! And I got lucky and arranged a marriage with him, he didn't seem as static, but it's okay, arranged marriages usually don't last anyway...

I don't know what took over me, but when they found this orphaned girl one day, out of nowhere, they adopted her, and that's when my life changed.

Serena.

It wasn't fair how she was the apple of everyone's eyes.

She was also clumsy and dumb, she didn't know how to use magic, just like me, but there was a fine line between us. For one I know etiquette and for two, I'm of royal blood.

But instead of also disliking her they doted on her. I let it go until Connor also started being attracted to her. I was enraged.

But kept to myself. I started writing things I felt like doing those things to her. Then slowly I started doing said things. But they were harmless! Mostly...

I always ended up getting caught every single time though.

I still did them though, I don't know I just felt like it, and then I started having dreams of this weird world, about a girl.

Her name, was just like mine, [name] [last name], and she's so cool!

It started off showing what kind of woman she was, a CEO, doctor, lawyer, but mainly an entrepreneur, I didn't know a woman could be in those fields. Also, what are some of those things?

Then those dreams.

"What a bast-, I can't with this main character! Oh and don't even get me started on the family, who wrote this?! And a poly relationship for what? Just for her to focus on one guy? That's it I'm balding. The only character I like is [name] but sometimes I wish she would just stand up for herself!"

Yes, for I found out she was just like me she also liked reading novels.

Her reactions to them were also quite funny, then one day I don't know why but I prayed to the Gods that I wanted to be just like her.

"Go hang yourself! Shitty ahh characters. Go suck a titty."

Okay, not exactly like her.

Then it was the next morning and the maids took a while to finally get me ready, I couldn't stand their murmuring about how terrible I was compared to Serena.

I wanted to rip my hair out when I heard her name.

Then I made an idiotic choice again, I shoved her while on the staircase.

Then my world went black before I woke up startled with NEW MEMORIES.

I had become [name] [last name].

But for some reason, I was smart, I knew how to manage her jobs…

5 years later

It's been, what, 5 years?

[name] was right to be cocky she had every right to be, I feel bad now that I stole her life.

[name] wherever you are I wish you the best.

I wanted to write this to show that both girls will get happy endings, and I rushed this because idk.

Anyway, thanks cuties for the interaction with my last post!

And again with the last post please give me constructive criticism!

Taglist -

@kittzu @charlenexoxo1 @bat1212 @silverklaus @sillysealsies

[elliee3e]

‘animals’

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ thinking about logan & f! reader being absolute animals during his cage fighting era

content warnings ;

porn & somewhat plot (in between the lines) , actually y’all i apologise this is just pure smut i think , rough sex , oral sex (m! & f! receiving + giving) , spit play , messy sex , facials, overstimulation , more stuff probably that i forgot help

author’s note ;

nothing to say other than the fact this is probably my most insane fic . send help, i need this logan so bad though 💔💔 y’all have been warned this is messy

you had met logan at one of the bars he was cagefighting at. being the owner’s daughter, you had the job to clean out the whole bar and close it down — including the cage, wiping it clean after every fight. the first few times, logan would pretty much just ignore you, but soon a night of him staying overtime as you poured him more than just a few drinks even though you were supposed to close the bar hours ago, you didn’t have it in you to kick him out. you didn’t know why. maybe it was the way your body tingled with need each time you watched him down another shot and take a drag of his cigar, tapping the then empty glass on the bar table as if silently asking for a new shot — which you instantly gave, not needing to exchange any words as you just went back and forth, cleaning the bar, scrubbing at the tables, watching him from afar as he just sat there and smoked and drank and god you knew he was no good. everything about him screamed bad, but you yearned for him each night somehow, even with having exchanged no more than three words; knowing little to nothing about him, all you knew was that you waited for the moment for him to finally make a fucking move, as the sexual tension was unbearable.

and you don’t know when this little ‘routine’ started happening, but, logan’s fucking you. you’ve even lost track of how or when, but you’re in the back of his RV and he’s absolutely ravaging your body against the mattress as he has you on all fours — large hand snaking to your throat and further up until two of his thick fingers pressed against your parted, moaning lips — sliding them in effortlessly. “atta fucking girl, that’s it..” he grunted, his other hand still on your hip, keeping it in place as he keeps on pounding into your sweet pussy from behind, over and over, hitting that bundle of nerves deep inside you that made you moan even more around his fingers in your mouth, slicking them up with your slobber and drool — his dick dumbing you completely.

“fuckin’ knew you would be good, since the moment i saw ya,” he would huff; now wet, spit slick fingers leaving your drooling mouth as that same hand grabs your jaw, pressing your cheek against the pillow and making you whimper. “logan.. gonna, gonna cum..” was all you could mumble out, your eyes fluttering back, the only thing you could focus on being the way your walls squeezed around his dick, needing support as that heat conjured up in your lower belly, your hands fisting at the sheets.

the same way they would fist and tangle in his messy hair as he would go down on you. it would be late at night, still way past closing hour — you were supposed to have the whole bar cleaned and closed hours ago but logan did a good job of distracting you of that as he sat you on the bar table (which, mind you, you had just got done cleaning, but you would yell at him for that later—) and started spreading your thighs apart for him, wasting no time in going to lick and eat at your sopping heat. “fuck,” you breathed, heels digging into his back as his tongue started teasing your entrance mercilessly, nose nudging your clit, his senses full of your needy smell as his tongue collected the sweet arousal that leaked from your entrance. “best fuckin’ thing i ever tasted, princess.” he would pull away just to growl against your thigh, littering kisses over there before making his way back to your cunt, placing sloppy kisses there too and to your aching clit; before he went to suck on the soft bud, your head turning fuzzy again as the warm feeling consumed you.

the same warm feeling that would consume you as he would have you in his lap, back pressed against him, head tilted back against his shoulder as his two of his roughed up fingers filled up your tight heat, working them inside it — making you squirm and gasp in his lap. you were always so sensitive when it came to those big hands playing with your little heat, making you whine and scratch at his arm, feeling the muscles flex each time his fingers pumped in and out of you. “logan,” your voice would come out in no more than a choked sob, as he was starting to drag out a third orgasm out of you already, just from his hands. “yeah, what is it baby? gonna cum for me, from my fingers?” he would chuckle, finding it absolutely ridiculous how much of a mess you could be reduced to with just his touch. your thighs were starting to tremble and threatened to close, the pressure being too much, overstimulating your little body against him — but his free hand rested on your thigh firmly and didn’t let you move, all you could do was nod and let out your choked moans that went right to logan’s aching cock in his jeans, but he would take care of that later.

later, being when you would get on your knees for him in the bar’s seedy bathroom, looking up at logan expectantly as he would fumble with his belt to quickly reach the buttons of his jeans and tug them down — his length hard and throbbing, heavy as you took it into your hand hesitantly to rub the bead of precum leaking from the flushed tip, but logan’s hands grabbed at your wrist harshly and pushed them away. he seemed on edge. “no, none of that. i only got a couple minutes here, so hurry up—“ he would grumble, making you huff softly in reply. it’s not that you hated quickies with him like this, but, he would always be on edge and rough, just overall harsher. but you knew he had a match in just a few minutes, and you didn’t want to add onto his stress. you just wanted to help. hesitantly leaning in to press a gentle, warming up kiss to the head of his cock, you took it into your mouth, feeling the weight on your tongue as you slowly started to take more in; logan’s low moans and praises encouraging you to do more. “fuck, yeah. just like that, baby. so good..” he would groan, a hand reaching up to run through your soft hair, grabbing a grip on it to gently start and push it down more — wanting you to take more of his cock down your pretty throat. the signal was pretty clear to you, and so you doubled your efforts, pulling away just a moment to catch your breath and stealing a quick glance up at logan for approval through your already glazed eyes, before moving back down onto his cock. your mouth was stuffed full before as you reached half of it, but you still managed to push the last few inches into your soft throat, making logan’s grip tighten in your hair. “goddamn it, princess.” he would hiss, head tilting back against the hard, cold tile wall as he let you work your mouth on him, pubic hair pressed up against your nose, the scent around you being him and only him, along with the noises in the bathroom — his suppressed moans and groans, as he gripped at your hair so much it eventually made you start to whimper. “makin’ a mess, droolin’ all over my cock..” he would grunt, using his grip on your hair to pull you off him as he rubbed his messy tip against your cheek. “gonna let me paint that messy face with my cum?”

and you nodded. like you always did. you were weak for the man.

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

Phainon x (fem) reader (4)

Part1 Part2 Part3 Part4

Phainon was already pacing by the edge of the newly formed pit, his usual bright energy replaced by sheer panic. He stared down into the darkness, fists clenched tightly. “We have to get her out. She could be hurt—or worse!”

“Would you stop pacing? You’re going to fall in too,” Mydei said, grabbing the back of Phainon’s coat to stop him from leaning too far. His calm, tough demeanor was still intact, though his furrowed brow betrayed his worry.

Tribbie knelt near the edge, peering into the dark abyss. Her blue eyes glimmered with determination. “It’s not that far down,” she said, pointing toward faint outlines of rocks below. “She’s probably okay… unless she landed on something sharp. Or something landed on her. Or—”

“Not helping, Tribbie!” Phainon snapped, his voice cracking slightly.

“Okay, okay!” Tribbie threw up her hands. “Just saying we need a plan!”

“Which is exactly what we’re doing,” Mydei said, already pulling a length of rope from his pack. “We go down and get her.”

“That’s obvious,” Phainon said impatiently, gesturing wildly toward the pit. “But what if there’s something else down there? What if—”

“You panicking isn’t helping either,” Mydei cut him off, his voice firm. “Keep it together, Phainon. She’ll be fine.”

Tribbie stood and brushed off her hands, shooting Phainon a reassuring smile. “She’s Y/N. If anyone’s going to handle this like a champ, it’s her. Still, Mydei’s right—we need to move fast.”

“What about Dan Heng and Trailblazer?” Mydei asked, tying a knot in the rope. “They’re not going to be thrilled if we leave them out of this.”

Tribbie nodded. “They’re not too far from where we split up earlier. I’ll go grab them. You two handle the ‘rescue operation’ while I run relay, alright?”

“Wait, why you?” Phainon asked, looking genuinely distressed.

Tribbie planted her hands on her hips, staring him down. “Because I’m the fastest and the smallest, and you two big guys can handle hauling her back up. Unless you want me down there with you, dragging Y/N out while you run to find backup.”

Phainon hesitated, then shook his head. “No. You’re right. Just… hurry, okay?”

Tribbie flashed a thumbs-up, already sprinting back toward the way they came. “I’m on it!”

Mydei turned his attention back to Phainon, handing him one end of the rope. “You ready?”

Phainon didn’t hesitate, grabbing the rope with both hands. “I’m going down first.”

“No, you’re not,” Mydei said flatly, looping the rope around a sturdy rock to secure it.

“What? Why not?” Phainon protested, his golden-retriever energy shifting into stubborn determination.

“Because you’ll get so distracted checking on Y/N, you’ll forget to watch your back,” Mydei said bluntly. “I’ll go first, make sure the path is clear. You follow once I give the signal.”

Phainon opened his mouth to argue but stopped when Mydei fixed him with a sharp glare. “Fine,” Phainon grumbled, his shoulders slumping slightly. “But hurry. Please.”

Mydei nodded and tugged on the rope, testing its strength. “She’s tough, Phainon. She’ll be fine.”

Phainon didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the pit below.

As Mydei began his careful descent into the darkness, Tribbie’s voice echoed faintly in the distance, calling out for Dan Heng and Trailblazer. Phainon gripped the rope tightly, his jaw set with determination.

“Hang on, Y/N,” he murmured under his breath. “We’re coming.”

____

The moment the ground gave way beneath her feet, Y/N felt a jolt of panic shoot through her chest. The darkness of the pit swallowed her almost immediately, leaving her disoriented as she tumbled downward.

The fall seemed endless. Wind rushed past her ears, and her fingers clawed at the empty air for anything to grab onto, but there was nothing. Only blackness.

Her mind raced as the descent continued. How deep is this thing? she thought, her heart pounding wildly. She tried to focus, bracing herself for the inevitable impact.

Then, just as suddenly as the fall had started, she hit something. But instead of jagged rocks or solid ground, she plunged into icy water.

The shock of the cold stole the air from her lungs, and she sank for a moment before instinct kicked in. Kicking her legs, she broke through the surface, gasping for breath. The sound of water lapping against unseen walls echoed around her, a stark reminder of how deep and empty this place was.

“Great,” she muttered to herself, wiping water from her eyes. Her voice echoed faintly, emphasizing just how alone she was. “A bottomless pit and a freezing underground lake. Perfect.”

Treading water, she took a moment to look around. Darkness pressed in on all sides, making it impossible to see where the lake ended or if there was any way out. She turned her head, squinting into the void, and that’s when she saw it—a faint light shimmering in the distance.

The glow was soft, almost otherworldly, and it reflected off the water like moonlight. It was coming from the far side of the cavern, beyond where she could see clearly.

“Well, that’s better than nothing,” she said, her voice a little steadier now.

She started swimming, her strokes strong and steady despite the weight of her damp clothes and gear. The water was cold enough to sap her energy if she stayed in too long, so she pushed herself to move faster.

The glow grew brighter as she neared it, and Y/N could just make out the edges of a rocky shore ahead. She allowed herself a small grin. “Still alive,” she muttered. “Not bad, Y/N. Not bad.”

As she swam closer to the light, she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d find on the other side. It wasn’t just the glow that intrigued her—it was the faint hum of energy that accompanied it, like the air itself was alive.

Her fingers finally brushed against solid rock, and she hauled herself out of the water, her boots scraping against the slippery surface. She sat there for a moment, catching her breath and wringing out her soaked gloves.

“Okay,” she said to herself, standing and looking toward the glowing passage ahead. “Let’s see where this rabbit hole goes.”

With cautious steps, she began moving toward the light, the faint hum growing louder with every step.

______

Phainon leaned as far over the edge as he dared, his eyes straining against the darkness below. “Did you hear that?” he asked, his voice tight with a mix of hope and anxiety.

“Hear what?” Mydei called up from where he was partway down the rope, his boots braced against the rock wall.

“That sound! Like… a splash.” Phainon’s ears perked up as if he were a hound catching a scent. “I think she landed in water!”

“You’re imagining things,” Mydei grumbled, adjusting his grip on the rope. “Or you’re just hoping that’s what happened.”

“No, I’m serious!” Phainon insisted, crouching down to peer into the pit again. “It was faint, but it was definitely water. She’s gotta be okay. She has to be.”

Mydei rolled his eyes and kept descending. “Even if you’re right, this rope isn’t long enough to reach the bottom. We’ll need to—”

The sentence cut off when the rope jerked suddenly, sending Mydei swinging against the wall with a loud grunt. “Damn it! It’s not secure enough for two people!”

Phainon winced, gripping the rope tighter from above. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to lean on it so much!”

“Then stop leaning!” Mydei barked. He braced himself against the wall, his sharp gaze scanning the depths below. The rope’s frayed end dangled uselessly a good ten meters above the bottomless darkness. “This isn’t going to work. We need another plan.”

Phainon frowned, glancing back toward the direction Tribbie had run. “We can’t wait for backup. What if she’s hurt? What if—”

“What if you stop panicking for five seconds?” Mydei cut him off, his voice dripping with irritation. “She’s not made of glass, Phainon. She’s probably—”

“Alive!” Phainon interrupted, his tone suddenly brighter. “See? You admit it! So we just need to get down there.”

Mydei pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re exhausting, you know that?”

“And yet, here we are,” Phainon shot back with a grin. “So, what’s the plan? We can’t just stand here!”

Mydei let out a long sigh, looking back at the dangling rope. “Fine. If you’re so eager, we jump.”

Phainon blinked, his grin faltering. “Wait, seriously?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea,” Mydei said, his tone challenging. “We can’t climb the rest of the way, and the water you think you heard is probably our best bet.”

Phainon hesitated for half a second before nodding, his usual enthusiasm returning in full force. “Right. Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Hold on,” Mydei said, giving him a sharp look. “If you start flailing like an idiot on the way down, you’re on your own.”

“Flailing? Me? Never!” Phainon put a hand to his chest, feigning mock offense.

Mydei didn’t even dignify that with a response. Instead, he climbed back up to the ledge and secured his pack more tightly. “Stay close. If this goes wrong, at least I’ll have someone to yell at on the way down.”

Phainon chuckled nervously. “Reassuring. Very reassuring.”

Without another word, Mydei stepped to the edge, gave one last glance into the pit, and leaped.

“Wait, don’t just—oh crap!” Phainon shouted, watching him disappear into the abyss.

Not wanting to be left behind, Phainon took a deep breath, muttered a quick prayer to the Aeons, and jumped in after him.

The air rushed past him as he fell, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. He could see Mydei ahead, the faint outline of his form cutting through the darkness like a comet.

Just as Phainon began to wonder if they’d ever stop falling, the icy shock of water enveloped him. He plunged deep into the cold, the sudden chill stealing his breath.

Kicking his legs furiously, he broke the surface with a loud gasp, blinking water from his eyes. Mydei was already treading water nearby, his expression as stoic as ever.

“Told you it was water,” Phainon said breathlessly, a grin breaking through his panic.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mydei muttered, shaking droplets from his hair. “Now shut up and swim. We need to find her.”

The faint glow from deeper in the cavern caught their attention, and without another word, they started swimming toward it, their determination renewed.

The icy water sent shivers through Phainon as he swam, but his usual golden-retriever grin was back in full force. “See? I told you it was water!” he said, splashing a bit as he caught up to Mydei.

“And yet I’m the one who jumped first,” Mydei replied, his tone flat as always. His strokes were efficient, barely disturbing the water as he moved toward the glowing light in the distance.

“Because you’re bossy,” Phainon shot back with a playful smirk.

“Because someone had to keep you from breaking your neck,” Mydei corrected, not even glancing back.

As the light ahead grew brighter, the hum of energy became more noticeable, vibrating faintly in the water around them. Phainon squinted, trying to make out details as they neared the glow.

When they finally reached the edge of the water, both men pulled themselves onto a rocky outcrop. The glow wasn’t just light—it was a series of bioluminescent crystals embedded in the walls, their ethereal glow reflecting off the still water.

“Whoa,” Phainon muttered, his eyes wide as he looked around.

“Focus,” Mydei reminded him, standing and scanning the area. His sharp eyes caught something on the stone floor: a trail of wet footprints leading away from the water.

“She’s alive!” Phainon exclaimed, his grin growing wider. He immediately took off after the footprints, water dripping from his coat as he jogged ahead.

“Phainon, wait!” Mydei hissed, hurrying to catch up. “You don’t know what’s down here.”

“Yeah, but I know she’s down here!” Phainon called back, his voice echoing off the cavern walls.

The footprints led them through a winding tunnel, the bioluminescent crystals continuing to light their path. The hum of energy grew fainter as they moved deeper inside, replaced by the soft, almost melodic sound of running water.

When they emerged from the tunnel, the sight before them was nothing short of breathtaking.

The cavern opened up into a massive, lush expanse. Vibrant green grass blanketed the ground, dotted with wildflowers in every color imaginable. A gentle river cut through the center, its crystal-clear waters sparkling in the soft light filtering from somewhere unseen above. Ancient ruins rose from the earth like sleeping giants, their worn stone walls covered in moss and vines.

Phainon stopped in his tracks, his mouth falling open. “Is this… real?”

“Looks like it,” Mydei said, though even he couldn’t hide the slight awe in his voice.

“This is incredible,” Phainon murmured, stepping onto the grass and letting his fingers brush against the tall blades. It felt soft and cool, like something out of a dream.

Mydei nudged him. “Footprints.”

The trail of wet footprints continued through the grass, leading toward the ruins. Phainon immediately snapped back into focus, following the trail with renewed urgency.

As they approached the largest structure, a temple-like ruin with crumbling pillars and an arched entrance, they spotted her.

Y/N was sitting on a large, flat stone near the riverbank, her damp hair catching the light. She had removed her boots and was wringing water from her coat, her sword resting beside her. She looked surprisingly calm, as if she’d wandered into a peaceful oasis instead of falling into a bottomless pit.

The moment Phainon spotted Y/N sitting by the riverbank, safe and sound, it was like the weight of the entire universe lifted off his shoulders. His blue eyes widened, and without thinking, he bolted toward her, his wet boots slipping slightly on the mossy stones.

“Y/N!” he yelled, his voice cracking with raw relief.

Y/N turned her head, startled, her damp hair catching the soft glow of the bioluminescent crystals. She blinked in confusion at the frantic look on his face, but before she could say anything, Phainon closed the distance in a flash.

She barely had time to brace herself before he tackled her into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around her with the kind of urgency you’d expect from someone who thought he’d lost her forever. The sheer force of it nearly sent them both tumbling back into the water.

“Phainon!” she yelped, more surprised than annoyed, as he buried his face into her shoulder.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her. “You’re okay, you’re okay…” He repeated it like a mantra, as if saying it enough times would finally calm the storm inside him.

Y/N froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden affection. Slowly, she let out a soft chuckle and awkwardly patted his back. “Uh… yeah, I’m okay. But, uh, I might not stay that way if you crush me.”

Phainon immediately loosened his grip but didn’t let go, his forehead still pressed lightly against her shoulder. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with embarrassment. “I just… I thought… when you fell…” His words faltered, the usually bright and talkative Phainon struggling to find the right ones.

Y/N softened, her teasing smile fading. “Hey, I’m fine. Really,” she said gently, her tone carrying a warmth that seemed to ground him. “See? Not a scratch on me.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands still resting lightly on her arms. His blue eyes searched her face for any signs of pain or injury, but all he found was her calm, amused expression.

“You’re… sure?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

Y/N smiled, her tone laced with playful reassurance. “Positive. I even got a free swim out of it.”

That earned a small laugh from Phainon, his golden-retriever energy starting to seep back in. “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

Before either of them could say anything else, a loud, exasperated voice interrupted them.

“Are you planning to let go of her anytime soon, or should I come back later?” Mydei’s sharp tone cut through the moment like a blade.

Phainon jumped, immediately letting go of Y/N and stumbling a step back. “I—I wasn’t—! I mean—!” He tripped over his words, his face turning a brilliant shade of pink.

Y/N laughed, brushing off her damp coat and giving Mydei a casual shrug. “It’s fine, Mydei. Let him have his moment.”

“His ‘moment’ nearly knocked you back into the water,” Mydei muttered, crossing his arms and raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Phainon.

Phainon scratched the back of his head, his sheepish grin doing little to mask his embarrassment. “Uh… sorry about that. I just… got a little carried away.”

“A little?” Mydei deadpanned.

“Okay, a lot,” Phainon admitted, throwing his hands up in surrender. “But can you blame me? She fell into a pit!”

“And yet she’s perfectly fine,” Mydei replied with a pointed look at Y/N. “Which is more than I can say for your dignity.”

Y/N snorted, giving Mydei a playful glare. “Alright, that’s enough out of you. Both of you, actually. We’ve got more important things to worry about than Phainon’s dramatics.”

Phainon straightened up, eager to prove himself useful. “Right! More important things! Like… this place!” He gestured to the lush surroundings, his enthusiasm bubbling back to the surface.

Y/N nodded, her expression shifting into one of awe as she took in the vibrant grass, the sparkling river, and the towering ruins. “Yeah… this place is incredible. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“And that’s what worries me,” Mydei muttered, his gaze scanning the ruins with a wary eye.

But Phainon’s focus had already shifted back to Y/N. He watched as her eyes sparkled with curiosity, her earlier fall seemingly forgotten as she took in the wonder of their surroundings. His heart did a little flip when she turned to him and flashed him a grin.

“Come on, Phainon,” she said, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “You didn’t jump into a freezing pit just to stand there gawking, did you?”

Phainon laughed, his cheeks still faintly pink. “Nope! Lead the way, fearless leader!”

As she turned and started toward the ruins, Mydei sighed heavily and followed. Phainon lingered for a moment, his smile softening as he watched her go.

“Hopeless,” Mydei muttered under his breath as he passed Phainon.

Phainon snapped out of his daze and jogged to catch up. “What? I’m not hopeless!”

“You absolutely are,” Mydei replied, not even bothering to look at him.

[hauntedhokage]

Anticipation

Itoshi Rin/F!Reader

rating: explicit

summary: you’re cat sitting for Rin while he’s away, the distance between you encouraging you to ask for help with more intimate matters.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: phone sex

Requested!

“Your cat is an asshole.”

Your comment makes Rin snort, a rare amused sound leaving the stoic striker.

“He likes you more than me.”

“I doubt it.”

This time it’s a thoughtful hum that leaves him, your best friend clearly considering how he would try to convince you that his cat did actually like you. But instead he tells you that the fluffy menace was only your problem for a couple more days, then you were no longer at risk of having your feet swiped at from under various pieces of furniture in his apartment.

“It’ll be nice to have you back for the mid season break,” you comment, making your way to his bedroom to get ready for bed. Time zones had been tricky for his daily check ins, his practices rubbing late had him calling and leaving voicemails while you were asleep. This was the first time in about a week that you’d actually spoken to him, and that was only because you were staying up late to get to do that.

“Yeah, save you from my asshole cat.”

“We can have a movie night or something,” you suggest, getting comfortable in his bed that has become yours while he was gone. The sheets still smelled like him despite his absence, and you weren’t going to deny how nice it was to be surrounded by his scent. “A lot of good ones streaming now.”

“That’d be fine. What are you doing right now, I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I want to talk to you,” you start, settling into the pillows while eyeing the vibrator charging on his nightstand. “Just got into bed, but I’m not tired so don’t hang up unless you have to.”

“I’ve got about an hour. Enjoying my bed?”

“A lot.” He hums at that. “Might just move in and make you take the couch.”

“We can share.”

That wasn’t a standard Rin answer; he should’ve said something along the lines of changing the locks or making you sleep on the floor. Not that you hadn’t shared a bed with him before, you were both mature adults that could do that without things faring awkward, but that was how he teased you.

But speaking of teasing, there was something more delicate on your mind and you were confident that Rin would be able to help - it would just be easier to ask if you didn’t have to look at him when you did. You’d need to be careful, tiptoeing along this line between friend and something else - something more - was a task done delicately. Otherwise the whole friendship could crumble, and Rin was not a person that you wanted to lose.

“Why are you quiet?”

“Wanted to ask you something, but I’m not sure how to ask.”

“Then just ask.”

Easy for him to say, he was great at being blunt (most of the time). This wasn’t something you were sure about, as Rin’s affection came few and far between. But you’d known about a girlfriend or two, affairs that didn’t last long but were long enough that he’d slept with them so he was your only option.

“How do you make a girl cum? Like…what’s your technique?” You feel like you’re in a furnace, your face hot as there’s a pause on the other side of the call. He probably thought you were stupid, figuring out how to cut this tie and ensure his cat was still taken care of from today on.

“Was there a sexual awakening that I missed?”

“Uh…no?” Your voice wobbles, embarrassment having taken over but you know you’re in the fire now. Rin wouldn’t drop this - he sounded too interested to be willing to. “It’s more like a me problem.”

“You need help finishing yourself off.”

“It sounds pathetic when you say it like that!” Your complaint earns a chuckle from him on the other side, and your face is warm with embarrassment. “But basically, yeah. I get so close and then it’s just…gone. Kinda silly, but it’s bugging me.”

“I can see why. Are you in my bed?”

“Yeah.”

“Bring anything with you?”

You hesitate to answer, since the implication of a positive response would be that you were masturbating in his bed while he was away. Not that it mattered, considering that you just told him something deeply personal regarding your sex life - a vibrator in his bed likely would be nothing in comparison.

“Don’t get it yet, first take your shorts off for me.”

It’s easy to follow instructions when it was Rin dishing them out. Usually the mask he wore when out playing soccer slipped, leaving a soft spoken man who just rolled with the punches for you to hang out with in your shared free time. When he maintained that control it always turned you on, the dull tenor of his voice and cold gaze sending shockwaves directly to your core that had you pushing yourself closer to him to absorb more of that energy that radiated off of him.

You’re obedient as he gives you instructions, first to wet your middle finger before sliding it between your folds. It’s only a bit embarrassing to feel just how wet you were hurt from talking to Rin - and you couldn’t even see what he was doing on the other side of the ocean. He sounds amused at the information, telling you to bring some of that wetness up to your clit.

“It’s about building anticipation,” he says, and you open your legs more as you continue to move your finger in tight circles. “Patience is key, don’t rush it.”

It was hard to be patient when you were desperate for that release that had been evading you for weeks. First it was just day by day, believing it was just a mental block or stress keeping you from cumming, but gradually became hour-by-hour that you worried you would never feel that bliss again. Patience would be near impossible when this was something you wanted more than anything else - if anything just to make sure that there wasn’t something irreversibly wrong with you.

“Relax.”

“‘M trying.”

“Not hard enough.” He was such a bastard. “I can’t get off until you do.”

Of course he’d challenge himself, placing a stipulation on his ability to help you reach that peak and actually fall off the edge and onto the other side. Typical Rin, but the labored breathing on the other end tells you something else. This wasn't just him helping you get off, this was full fledged phone sex now, the official crossing of a line previously left untouched. The question of what happens after this is better left unspoken, held back until Rin was in the same room as you and neither of you could dance around the topic. Not that he would, but you wanted to cover all bases.

“Do you need to stretch yourself out a bit or can you take your vibrator without it?”

“I should be okay without it.”

“Get it wet with your mouth, but play with it a little bit like you would if it was me.”

This had to be part of the anticipation. Playing with the toy that would be penetrating you as if trying to get it just as excited as you were. The additional prompt to treat it as if it were him you were sucking has your face hot - as if you were sitting directly in front of a fire.

“D-do you want it to be me stroking your cock?”

“As much as I’m sure you want it to be me rubbing your clit right now.” That had you humming as you brought your vibrator to your lips, setting your phone on your chest while on speaker so you could still hear him but use both your hands. “But we’ll work that out when I get back.”

You wish he could see you nod around the vibrator, since the sound you made at his statement could easily be interpreted as a sound you made at rubbing your clit. This would be so much easier if he was here, but you’d make do with what you had.

“Sounds so messy,” he teases, but you don’t care because you knew he liked it since he bothered to comment on it. “Get it nice and wet?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then push it in slowly. I want you to feel every inch of it.”

You do as he says, eyes falling shut at the feeling of the penetration and trying to picture Rin on top of you. His hair would probably fall in his face, tickling your face as it moved with his head and his thrust.

His name tumbles from your lips in a stuttered gasp, prompting his own groan that has you clenching around your toy as you continue to guide it in. He reminds you to relax and take it slow, and you take a couple deep breaths before continuing until it’s at the hilt.

“Don’t turn it on yet, fuck yourself with it for me. Move slow,” he instructs, voice heavy with his own lust. “But move your fingers slow on your clit. Feel it build a bit.”

You crave the additional stimulation from the vibration but don’t dare to defy Rin’s instructions after you’d asked him for help. He wasn’t above stopping entirely if you went against his suggestion, and for your own sake you push the thought aside as your hands move like he’d instructed.

When he tells you to turn on the toy you don’t hesitate, keeping it on the lowest setting as he’d instructed and keeping the thrusts slow.

“Takin’ it so well,” he mumbles, and you nod your agreement as your hips raise of their own accord. “Feel good?”

“Y-yeah. You?”

“Yeah.” He pauses, and you can hear the wet sound of his hand sliding along his shaft. His breathing was labored, you assumed that he was doing his best to hold off as he’d promised, the sound one of the sexiest noises you'd ever heard in your life and would happily play on loop as the soundtrack to assist in your next solo session.

“Pick up the pace a bit. Not too fast and angle it so it’s pointing upwards a bit.”

He continues to instruct you, an “oh, fuck” or “shit” breaking up his sentences on occasion but making you clench around the toy you fucked yourself with. Being part of the reason why the ever-collected Rin Itoshi was falling apart was a unique position to be in, but a position you were excited to be in. The adjusted angle has you seeing stars, the tightening of your core an indicator of an ending you hoped you achieved.

“R-Rin, I’m gonna cum.” You actually were, and you were so excited that he’d gotten you there. “Oh my god, I’m gonna-“

“Don’t hold it. Cum for me and let me hear you.”

The way you cry out when you finally tip over that edge is unrecognizable. The waves of pleasure that crash through your system have your legs shaking as your thighs clench around your hand, tears pricking at your eyes at the immense pleasure you were finally getting to experience after what felt like a lifetime. On the other end of the line you hear Rin’s stifled groans as you assume he reached his own end. He probably looked so pretty, chest heaving and hair sticking to his forehead since he’d sweat, you couldn’t wait to see it in person when he got back.

Your body relaxes back into the mattress, your vibrator turned off but still held in your pussy as you try to steady your breathing as he asks: “Feel better?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m home on Thursday, and I’ll make you cum so many times you’ll forget you ever had issues with it.”

“Threat or promise?”

“Both.”

[clitorphosis]

DOLL PARTS

Death Island Leon S. Kennedy x reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, KIDNAPPING, DUB CON SEX, SMUT, female reader, age gap, abusive relationship, guilt tripping, Stockholm syndrome, dumbification ig, rough sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, choking, creampie, finger sucking, bruises, implied physical violence, internal conflict, teasing, guilt, implied obsessive behavior(Leon) i think, dirty talk, pet names, degradation.

Summary: There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is close to lose after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. For him, to kidnap you is to save that part. Cause life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Of course you don't understand.

notes: this is a mess I fear, but I had a blast writing this tho so idc LOL!!! Also thanks @writingwisterias for letting me bother you with my rambling and my indecisiveness with kidnapper leon（╹◡╹）I don’t condone anything here in real life. :3 uhm, reblogs, asks or comments and any kind of feedback are really appreciated!

tags: @melanchol1cs

Clocks are ticking, not only in real time but in his mind - a disturbing reminder of how at his age Leon wasn’t even able to settle down. Tick - tock. Of course, men can always find a young woman, and two or three times of unprotected sex would be enough to impregnate one. Still, Leon doesn’t believe that applies to him - alcohol is not only a boner killer but also of fertility. Neither does he crave babies, he can be considered a dad to Sherry, also they would only show how time flies. She is enough of a reminder, no need for more.

He found you on the dating app - Sherry suggested he try, as a joke, probably not expecting him to follow the advice.

For him, you looked like a doll. Almost a godsend. Pretty, young, and easy to manhandle. Almost drooled at the prospect of having your legs wrapped around his waist. He should feel guilty or disgusted at the idea to fuck you… at the images of the material of your panties clinging to your hips, wrinkling up with every movement before his fingers would curl under it to tug them down. Right? No-no, he is only 38 years old - at his age men are already bald, Leon is having an easy time here. He has a chance, always had.

While he was unsure what to do, was a simple ‘hello, how are you’ enough for you? Or would it be too simple? Or repulsive? Why is he even worried about that, you probably matched him on accident.

You texted him first, something he didn’t expect from a young woman - even women of his age don’t text him first, they are dry and uninterested. Like sex with them.

“hiii ^^” This forces a smile out of him. Again, three dots appear. “You didn’t swipe me as a mistake, right?:3”

He hesitates, his thumb floats on the digital keyboard for a moment. No, it wasn’t a mistake, still, he needs to gratify his ego. “If it was, would it get you sad?”

“yep, actually, very big big sad!”

That was it. Easy and quick to get closer to you. He expected more obstacles, maybe times changed indeed or you are into older guys. All he needed to do was to open his wallet, be nice enough, and show how a ‘real man’ should treat a woman.

Leon knows a lot about you. He knows too much information - where you live, your college, and where you work. Not in a creep-like way, no-no. You were the one asking him to drive you there. Maybe your youth is the only problem to blame on - you were a chatting box endlessly and easily sharing anything with him, maybe things you should not have to. Somewhat, this only attached him to you.

There are always some subtle hints and hidden alarms, no one usually gives a shit about. Also, understandable, to ask anyone who knows him - hard to find someone with a bad opinion of Leon.

“He is okay”

“A hero. Not everyone is capable of saving the president’s daughter” or a simple shrug.

Outside his work, Leon is… just a guy most of the time. Yes, of course, not the luckiest one with the ladies, but it is unlikely someone would describe him as the type to kidnap a girl. No one understands how middle age crisis is going to be hard to handle, he is pushing 40, surely enough it is already waiting for him at the edge of the doorstep - and Leon had enough of bullshit in his life, a pretty and young woman is the panacea for this. The godsend pill to erase his problems.

And finally.

Finally, the tremendous loneliness will disappear, leaving it behind him like a bad dream. The feeling that everybody in the world is doing something without Leon. He can’t stand this ever-consuming loneliness to spread anymore, today IS the day.

He can let himself be selfish just once. Right?

To reach his goal, there is a small step though, a sacrifice to make. That’s why he set a date, in a good and expensive restaurant too.

And today is the day. This shouldn’t be forgotten. The biggest day. The most important one. No, doesn’t do the justice. The absolutely, positively biggest day, may be the right choice of words for Leon.

On the spot already, waiting for you. This time he isn’t late. That bad habit since 1998, but for once he didn’t struggle with his punctuality - too petulant about what will happen, checking clocks every second. Almost like a goddamn teenager, shifting the weight from one foot to the other on the spot. Nothing can go wrong, he tries to calm himself, there are so many ways to cover your disappearance. Perks of the job.

He didn’t notice how you arrived here too until your perfume brought him to senses. Your face is soft, your eyelashes flutter and you are so untainted. Your younger frame reminds him of himself your age. 21 years old, 1998. When he was at your age he had already witnessed horrors, you don’t realize they still exist. Leon shakes his head, that memory never brings anything good, but today his mood is not ruined and the memory has only strengthened the urge to keep you close.

Leon needs you, untouched by horrors and he knows much better how life can be terrifying.

“You ready?” He flashes a smile, his mood is more upturned than it has ever been - you can’t help yourself, a grin spread across your face too. It is infectious.

“Mmm, I am” you nod, curling your hand around his elbow, to keep yourself closer to him. And he is ready too, god, he has never been so fucking ready in his life.

“Not late this time,” His heart clenches at your words, and he looks into your eyes with a cocked eyebrow - awaiting whatever you came up with. “not like you at all, should I expect a surprise?”

“Maybe, maybe not” He brushes off with a shrug, a smile is still on his lips as you get closer to the car, but he can feel your excitement.

“A ring maybe?” You giggle. He opens the car door for you to get in, you don’t want to let go of his arm.

“A ring? Already?” He says and shakes his head. No, not a ring, but a different surprise. He kisses your lips in a chaste way, hoping you will not try to harp on this topic. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart, wait for it”

…

After dinner was different. A drop of temperatures and an easy flow of the air, dull lights of the street lamp illuminating your figures, inhaling the air in your lungs for the last time. The street is empty; no drivers, no smell of cigarettes, just you and him. And… silence fell upon you both.

Until his hand presses a tissue around your nose. It is suffocating; your nails dig into the arm, trying to worm out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, easy there” His voice brushes against your ear, soothing and intimate. The one he used when he fucked you. “Don’t make it worse for yourself...”

The warm body pressed against your back and kept you close until your body became pliant in Leon’s embrace on the silent night.

Tied up and unconscious. He is considerate enough to not let you experience the narrow space of the car trunk. With heaviness in his chest and like a scaredy cat, driving to his apartment - guilt shifts to euphoria in no time. You wanted this, no? Why would you stay with him after all? It doesn’t matter anymore. He was successful, finally. It worked. Today is his luckiest day, it should be highlighted on the calendar.

While this is the uncomfortable memory of your last date.

…

Every time you are alone, there are little things to do - you could have done some projects for college, maybe talk to friends and go to clubs. To catch a pretty guy, to have sex in the bathroom of the said club. Or fall in love with a guy of your age. It fills you with love and excitement like your hypothetical phone is going to ring as if you aren’t forced to be in Leon’s apartment.

Leon says you are a doll. Not those plastic bimbo dolls you see on social media with plastic acrylics that are longer than their eyelashes. Those reeks of cheapness by trying to be expensive, Leon has explained the difference to you. You are not Barbie or Bratz, those are ones you’d probably played with in your childhood, for Leon, you are another kind of a doll.

He is the one controlling you, making those dumb rules you’ve never memorized and you aren’t really going to. His grip around you is tight and your skin blooms with darker colors after playing with you.

Pretty, that word lives rent-free in his mind, almost becoming the most used of his. Favorite word. Your presence urges him to dress you up. A glance into the closet, most of it contains dresses and other items he has bought you. To take care of you, Leon almost emptied his wallet entirely for you a lot after getting you. It excites him. Admiring outfits he put you in and the same night, he is the one raising the fabric of your dress - two fingers or a dick inside you are enough to make you busy with moans and squirm.

He loves it, oh, he adores it. And your pussy is the best. It calms him, centers him - being someone’s center of the world is delightful, the only one time of the day in which he doesn’t feel insane. You make him feel sane, on the days when your mouth doesn’t run free.

From your point of view, he looks like he is trying to play house with you. In a wrong way. Playing house didn’t include tears or forced silence. Or forced participation. It should be fun, usually, it had been, at least in your childhood. Leon acts like this is normal like he didn’t just kidnap you during your date and force you to be here. He is still sweet, still spending his money on you (even though he doesn’t care about your preferences now), there is food on the table too. During the dinner, the silence is filled with stories from his work - names of people you don’t know. They don’t know you either, you aren’t the most famous captive girl on the planet after all. This is the bare minimum.

What’s more to ask for? Freedom, you are full of his shit actually, you would have preferred ignorance to be bliss cause his farce makes you feel insane. More unanswered questions flood your mind, they stick to your mind like a leech on the skin after a fresh swim on the summer day. You need to wash away this feeling, the only way is to question him. Right. First, you played nicely, still pitying him and holding him dear to your heart.

“What are you talking about, sweetie?” And a confused expression was his answer. He doesn’t even process what you said, just moves on. This didn’t work. Nothing fucking works here.

Now you prefer to poke those facts at him - like a harsh whiplash, a cold water against his face to bring him back to reality. You shouldn’t live like this alone.

Under your flesh there is a hidden hole filled with turbulent waters, almost tearing you apart - suffocating you with confusion. You wish hatred was the only reason to keep you sane, but the deep affection towards him still emerges like a bad dream. His tired eyes with loving and sweet nothing words come from his mouth, peppering your body and face with kisses when everything is right. The memories of nights with him flash in your mind: he is nice enough not to break you, while your body reacts in natural ways. You get wet, you feel pleasure, and his fingers know just the right spot to make your back arch.

This tears you apart, it confuses you too. Maybe there is something you don’t catch on, something missing. Conditioning? You aren’t a mindless idiot, nor a Pavlovian dog, but your body reacts like one. Maybe that’s a lie to reassure yourself. Still, you can’t drive yourself close to orgasm when he is not home. Your fingers aren’t enough anymore, almost with tears trying to get yourself off. To feel like your own person without him.

But something. Is. Always. Missing. You are incomplete.

…

It is already late, really late. Leon is a busy man, at least his job seems to be really important - so important, that he has always refused to tell you, avoiding the topic like the plague and switching to that honeyed tone, talking to you like a dumb puppy. Maybe it is some government shit job, something dirty - suitable for him.

But when he is late, many hopeful scenarios emerge, the most common is his car crushing to death. Good girls get gifts, their wishes get accomplished also, and they end up in heaven too - Leon told you that and to him, you are a good girl. Corny shit. Could he be right though? What if your wish was heard finally? Then remained trouble in your life would be to get out.

And the same dreams are crushed every time the sound of the car engine goes off, the jiggle of keys reaches your ears. You know it too well, you can recognize these little details and they fill you with dread. The sound of his steps, they are so different from others. The sound of his car doesn’t sound like those outside his house. Maybe you are insane, but everything he does is so recognizable it makes you sick.

And Leon is back.

His face is the only one you see, even in your dreams. There is nothing changeable in it. Light stubble, but still him. Shaved and it is still him. Different cologne. And still him. Leon sickens you, this little play often pushes your buttons, urging you to break this act and get yourself into trouble. Maybe the remains of hope are to blame, maybe Leon would change his mind and stop this.

He plops down on the couch, drawing your attention to him - impossible to ignore, if you did, you wouldn’t stop hearing the end of his complaints. His black shirt strains across his muscular body, the fabric is not shy to outline his big chest. Black suits him, but Leon looks good in everything forcing more dread stir in your chest.

“Finally, home” Leon sighs, his hand creeping up to pull you into his lap, acting unbothered. Your legs straddle his hips, facing him. Don’t forget, you are captive. And this is the part of the routine. He is going to watch those old movies from his childhood, or work silently(maybe he will nudge his cock inside you, to keep himself warm) and then he will fuck you. A tearful routine.

“…yay..!” You try to smile, forcing it to please him. Ignoring conflicting feelings in your body, anticipation to feel his dick mixed with dread. A yearning for change. Leon kisses your forehead.

His blue eyes feel heavy on your face, making you feel so little. “I missed you” Leon cooed with a honeyed tone, pulling you even closer. That light smell of beer coming from him forces your skin to crawl. His fingers pinch your cheek, tugging it briefly too. “My doll felt lonely today, right? Without me?”

Again, that mocking sweetness. The one you’d use for puppies. You nod with a hum “Mmm”

“I had a bad bad day today, those reports dried my eyes, god” he groans, his head tipped back, rubbing his eyes as to emphasize his words. But still gripping your waist. You don’t have the mood to be nice to him, his smile and relaxed expression stir dread and hate towards him. And yourself.

“You look like you had a bad day and not me” Leon comments, raising an eyebrow before his thumb tugs on the corner of your lips - smile. You had a bad day forever, your day can’t be compared to whatever he had today. His voice is sweet, but condescending, like he knows what is better for you. Leon doesn’t know shit.

“I don’t think you have reasons to be upset, huh? Your life is easy, baby” He snaps his fingers. Like an order. “pretty smile for me, no one likes grumpy girls”

“You are fucking sick… you know that?” Words spill out quickly and mindlessly, ignoring his distorted expression - you just want him to be in pain. Like you are. There is a hint of fear in your voice, subconsciously aware of what is going to happen after your words. “… you KIDNAPPED ME and you want me to play along with this act?…” A bittersweet pause. Adrenaline rushes through your blood, like after a good shot of vodka. “That’s fucking smart… asshole”

A hard swallow, trying to ignore the growing lump in your throat. Anxiety. This time, your voice is much quieter, you feel so small. Involuntarily shrinking away to shield yourself from what is coming. “I hate you”

There is an uncomfortable silence and his face is not blurry anymore - it is the only thing you can see right now. There is no slap, which is worse, silence is much scarier than a reaction cause you need to know what is going on in his head. You should have stayed silent instead, maybe Leon was right - you can’t stop but back talk and try to get yourself into trouble. You got yourself into this, not him.

Maybe an apology… wouldn’t it be late? Would it save? God, you MESSED this up. There is no way back.

His eyebrows furrowed, looking down at you with a clear discontent painting on his face, his fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks - uncomfortably keeping you still. This time being pretty and batting your eyelashes like a dumb doll is not going to save you.

“You are so spoiled. No one likes ungrateful bitches like you” Leon shakes his head, not giving a space to you to talk back again. “I buy you pretty things, I spend my time and money on you… and you repay me like that?”

He tilts your head, the grip is bruising, almost. Leon doesn’t give you flowers, but bruises look like them quite enough. His words hit you like a slap, making you feel like there is something tremendously wrong with you, not with him.

“Is it so hard to play nice and stay pretty for me?” He adds with a raised eyebrow. His thumb caresses your lower lip, playing and tugging it down, before pushing the digit past your soft and tender lips.

“And quiet.” He tsked, feeling warm saliva clinging to his thumb as it pressed down onto your tongue. Lucky for Leon, one of his wishes is accomplished - you can’t really talk, only muffled words, while your mouth is occupied with his digit. He keeps the grip on your jaw, before replacing it with two fingers. Pointer and middle finger. You are so pretty when you keep your mouth shut or around his fingers. Or dick. The latter is much preferable.

Your mouth is always warm, inviting, and wet. Hard to hide how such act affects you, your breathing catches in your chest, as his fingers keep rubbing the front of your tongue - messy and slick, not wetter than your cunt right now. Your mouth can not be compared to your pussy though, it has much more pros than disadvantages, the only con is the lack of wetness sometimes. Not something unfixable at the end of the day, a spit or lube (if he is in a good mood) can fix anything.

Your eyes are closed, feeling his other hand keeping your head pointed up where he can see you. To be honest, you don’t really know if you are just trying to illude yourself and hide from the truth - both options are useless, they bring you back to him. Every time his fingers are in your mouth, keeping you quiet and forcing you to suck on them - your pussy gets wet quickly like it is connected to your throat. His fingers delve deeper, moving in and out slowly. You can’t help yourself. Your clit throbs uncomfortably, urging you to do something about this, and your inner walls flutter around nothing - your mind reminds you of how good his dick feels. You probably look so pitiful to him, your eyes reflect well what your body begs for while drooling around his fingers.

Your thighs try to snap close, to rub them together and get that sweet-sweet stimulation, but they end up straddling his hips tighter - feeling the outline of his hard cock press against the damp and thin material of your underwear. It isn’t a big obstacle right now, the burning heat can be felt easily. A choked whine escapes from your mouth, realizing that his pants are still on him.

“Uh-huh, you want my attention?” Leon asks, not trying to be subtle with his tone, laced with mocking sweetness. His fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop, leaving a trail of droll connecting you both. It is so empty without him filling your senses. His eyebrows curl up, glaring down on you like at kicked puppy. He mocks you, another squirming heat crawls in your cunt. Embarrassingly wet, dripping, and staining his jeans with your slick. God, you ARE getting off when he is being patronizing with you. “You ruined my day, baby. Do you really think you deserve anything right now?”

Your mind is screaming at you to do something, you need that relief. His cock. Anything that will fill the emptiness inside you with pleasure. You shiver when his fingers brush across the hem of your underwear, clearly amused by how wet you are. They push aside the fabric, already wet by your saliva - slowly stroking your drenching folds. So warm and puffy, even the light touch of his fingers on your clit makes your body jolt like you are in pain.

“Leon…” Your voice sounds cloying, it goes straight to his hard dick, as you look under your eyelashes at his face - it makes you feel dumb. Any sentences or words are thrown away into the bin under his glare, he doesn’t even try hard to make you feel like that, there is no need cause you are dumb. And you ache for his cock, ignoring alarms in your head. You are just a dumb, aching doll.

And his. He told you that.

“What?” Leon pressed, already withdrew his fingers from your cunt, wanting to see you more desperate. Your hips try to grind against his hard cock, to get a light stimulation. You stay silent, words aren’t enough to formulate what swirls in your mind. Somewhat, his presence and words are always tied to that deep feeling of owing him something. What? Not clear, but it is still here, even if his cock empties your mind.

You are still his after the dramatics you pulled, right?

You swallow hard, the sight of his unmoving hand on the belt makes your cunt painfully ache, ignoring your mind screaming at you to hit him. You don’t deserve this, it whispers. The guilty part of your brain won a long time ago, it overwhelms that soothing reminder - canceling it completely - you need to hurry up him. You are at fault, it whispers. “…Please…” Forgive me, I need you.

You gasp as in rasp motion he changes your position, shoving you and you end up with your back pressed down flatly on the soft material of the couch, while Leon hovers over you. And he kisses your forehead, with the same tenderness and affection he has given you before - like a couple, married couple on honeymoon. Your mind misses the bullseye with this conclusion, but whatever helps, right? The spot burns hot, as a reminder that you have to please him.

Clink-clink! It snaps you out of your thoughts. The sound of his belt makes your skin crawl, and more slick pools in between your thighs like at the unvoiced command. You try to buck your hips up, only to end up restrained by his hand - it grips tightly your flesh, in a bruising hold, and the signs will bloom into another purplish collection in the morning. His hand pins your hips down, - silently denying the control over your pleasure. Couldn’t be even wetter at this point.

It isn’t really visible, but his breathless sigh signaled you that his hand is, probably, wrapped around his cock. You squirm, to prop yourself to look down and maybe get comfier - again, he pushes you down with a head shake.

Your legs shake when his cock presses up in between your drenching folds, the slick clings to the skin, and his cock head nudges against your aching clit. And this hits so good too, his hard cock slides across your cunt. You can’t help but let your hips buck up back, again - to get your own control on the pleasure. Tsk. Your attempt gets easily interrupted again, as his hand pushes your hips down. His cock gets harder after every slow and agonizing rut, the wet sounds of your slick pressing and smearing his cock is like music to his ears. No wonder it is so easy to get lost, thank god your attempts to worm out of his grip snap him out of that pleasure.

You are so impatient. But for Leon, sex is so much simpler, cause he is a simple man. With age many things change, they get uncomplicated. Of course, Leon likes good stuff; tasty good, keeping you pretty, watching how your tits bounce with every thrust and feeling your flesh under his hands, how you react to him. But the sex isn’t the lovemaking or a way to satisfy you, for him, it would be useless to keep you here then. There is a deep desire to hold onto his past, on the part he is so close to lose touch with after every birthday date. And you are perfect for this. Life goes on and without him, but yours can’t go on without him now. Every time he sees you so confused, depending on him - he can’t lie, it makes his cock jolt. He wants to see every little expression on your face, - desperation, affection, confusion, misery, everything - to etch the sight into his memory.

“Baby, you don’t know what’s good for you..” Leon says, there is no answer from you and he doesn’t really need one. His eyes are focused on his cock nudging your hole before slowly pressing in - now watching your spasming and drenching hole swallows his cock. And you gasp.

Without fingers, without any preparation, but wet as hell, you still feel tight as sin. It is easier to get through though. The velvet softness of your fluttering cunt is addicting as your walls clench around him in a vice grip with every inch pushed inside.

It is dizzying how your mind empties together with your body, any remains of conflict regarding this situation is gone. Focusing on how his cock stretches your walls, leaving you breathless and trembling at the slow-filling sensation in your cunt. Your hands creep to rest on his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

His cock pushes through, until its tip presses against your cervix - he is deep inside, his hips nestled right against your ass - and your pussy is so overwhelmingly full, for a moment you forgot how to breathe.

“That’s okay” Leon cooed again. His hand brushes across the skin of your collarbone, caressing it. Burns and you are hot, to the point his touch felt cold. You shiver, his hand is always pleasant to feel, but at the same, the feeling of it is accompanied by something else, you can’t ever catch it. It is brief but always gives you awareness.

Your chest rises up and down unsteadily, looking probably pathetic right now as his hips start moving. Already overwhelmed without a way out.

“Awww, you are just a dumb thing, not knowing anything better” Leon drawls with an amused smirk.

The pace is set, rhythmically rocking against you, using your cunt like a toy. You want to roll your own hips back, to do something but today isn’t your day. You already forgot about your earlier lash-out, as the only sounds reaching your ears are flesh-hitting ones mixed with your moans. His lips are parted on a soft stream of pants.

“N-no..” This attempt of protest slips out easily from your mouth, without giving too much thought into what may happen. Your nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders. His hand creeps higher, to rest on your neck in a loose grip, a silent warning perhaps. Pretty faces don’t need to do anything other than being pretty, but tonight you let your mouth slip out too often.

The hand on your hip pushes it down again, the grip hurts actually. Feels like there are already bruises forming and he is clearly not pleased with you. He isn’t at all, your comments ruin his fun. They distract him from your tight pussy, how hot it is, and engulf him, begging him to thrust ruthlessly and fill you.

Unspoken rule, you should be silent and let him use your cunt without other noises than incoherent moans.

“Oh, no-no” Leon mocks you, a sharp, unexpected thrust, his cock head grinds against your cervix. To punctuate his words his grip on your throat tightens. Or you are imagining this? Another thrust, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hips start dragging his cock out of you, then he pushes it back deep inside. “I know what’s better for you.”

Every deep thrust into your spasming cunt, your thighs shake, and muscles in your body flex every time your hips connect. And his hand squeezes your throat, you can clearly feel the outlines of his fingers on the skin of your throat. God, is the grip getting tighter? Is he trying to cut the air? This fills your body with panic; it writhes even more, ignoring the painful grip on your hip and becoming more aware of the one that’s getting tighter around your neck.

Yeah, he is angry at you.

“Doll, you brought this… on yourself” Leon whispers breathlessly, watching your expression twist with a mix of pleasure and fear. Your hands travel from his shoulders to his wrist, nails dig into its flesh. “don’t resist”

His hand angles your hip better, losing the rhythm of the pace as his cock pounds into you in quick and deep thrusts. It hits your g-spot too, but the lack of air is the biggest of your worries right now. Your cunt flutters, getting tighter with the less air incoming, and more tingly wave of sensation rides over your body. The tips of your fingers feel weird, and your entire body starts to drown in numbness. It is weirdly pleasant but at the same time scary. Deep down you like it, not realizing it.

“Come on,” Leon grunts, his grip on your neck doesn’t lessen, and you try to focus on something else other than the possibility of passing out. Your walls clench around his dick tighter, and your mouth opens uselessly as a dumb fish trying to speak, but the only sound coming out is a muffled one.

“If you are so smart… fuck…” He moans, you feel so good, your walls clenched tight around his dragging cock and your body is so easily letting him use your pussy. He can get drunk on it. “…use your big mouth”

His grip tightens, and another choked moan tries to drawl out of your mouth. Nothing comes out other than a quiet, pathetic mewl. It feels like you are going to die.

“Use your filthy and smart mouth” He taunts again, the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. His hips thrust into you in rough and hard movements. It feels like just his presence is overfilling you. Maybe the lack of oxygen is to blame. “or you can only use it for my dick.. huh? Like a whore, not a doll”

“A…m, S-s” I am sorry. You try your best, but it is hard to do multitasking when your head is so lightheaded and his dick inside you feels so good. Your body feels numb like it doesn’t belong to you anymore, writhing and squirming every time his cockhead hit your cervix - a pang of tingling mixture, something so new and pleasurable, but at the same time foreign, with the hint of pain. But it is a delicious kind of hurt, toe-curling one.

You are going to pass out, trying to swallow down the saliva pooling in your mouth and your nails dig into the skin of his bicep - begging, unawarely your eyes sprinkle with tears. “S-..sor-r—” This is your best attempt.

Orgasm has always been different with him, it is warm, still keeping your turmoil. This time it is crushing, but feels shorter than it was actually. It hits your body unexpectedly, filling to the brim with the feeling of his cock spouting cum inside you, while every patch of your skin is numb and burning hot.

Confusing your mind more when his hand slipped away, so close to pass out and the quick rush of air fills your lungs almost choking you, overwhelming the pleasure of your own orgasm. You are so sensitive, at the brink of tears - not having any strength to keep them in, they easily well in your eyes, blurring even more the vision before rolling down. It doesn’t hit like it should cause you are too focused on the fading numbness and shaking while inhaling the air - unreasonably afraid(to Leon) that he is going to take it away again. Breathing feels much better than sex, right now at least.

He pulls out his dick, and his cum slowly oozes out of your hole, while you are still recovering. Not hiding where his gaze is directed. It is hypnotizing, urging him to shove it back into you with his fingers and keep his cum inside you for a little bit longer. You snap him out of this trance with your sobbing and incoherent words.

“I am so—sorry!” You sob, tugging onto the fabric of his black shirt to pull him closer to you. Seeking comfort in him, you don’t have any other options. He can’t deny this to you, his arm wraps around your shoulders. And even if you had other choices, still you would crawl back to Leon. “I was mistaken… I am so-so sorry. It was a mistake!”

God, you shake like a leaf right now. He huffs as if your words were the most obvious thing. Like the sky is blue or two plus two is four. It is hard to push you away, the trembling and teared-up mess. Leon enjoys that.

“There you are, baby. I got it” Leon sighs, the crease in between his eyebrows deepens. His hand brushes away your hair from your face, to get a better glance of your state. Mistake. Everything is a mistake here - your presence, getting off only of him, texting him first, and letting him take you on dates. Leon can’t help, but chuckle. “Of course. Indeed a mistake, doll”

[marvelandponder]

I'm gonna speak from my experience and it's probably going to be different than OP's and that's okay

I had super bad social anxiety from about 10th grade through most of university. I straight up believed that if I didn't have anything "worthwhile" to say, it was a burden to say anything at all, because then you'd be subjecting people to a painfully awkward social interaction they didn't want

So basically everything I had to say wasn't "worth it" and I felt like I was failing every social interaction, or cowarding out by hiding myself away when it became too exhausting

I think over the course of those years I had about 4 or 5 therapists?

Each was helpful for different reasons but the one that was the most helpful was a guy who had me write out what I believed about socializing. And we picked them apart until we got to the underlying truth

The one that really stuck out to me was we basically got to a point where he was like "so you believe human beings are inherently judgemental"

That didn't feel right. Like, yeah, we have automatic passing thoughts, but most people don't really care about what's weird with others for more than few seconds. Then they're focused on themselves again

So that stuck out to me as a belief I could revise. Where were examples of when people didn't care about me being awkward or not knowing how to socialize?

We devised a plan to test the new theory

I was in university at the time, and there were scheduled meet ups in our LGBTQA+ centre's on campus. That seemed like a pretty safe place to try things- I had even been there before

So I went. I went a few times. It was still tough sometimes but I started to feel more safe saying things, contributing to set discussion topics, or just being quiet when I didn't have anything to add (and not beating myself up for having nothing to add)

That built a little bit of confidence, then I had a few job experiences that helped too. At first those sucked - I would have panic attacks sometimes. But then around the time I was doing this therapy, I got one where I could tell my managers first thing, hey, I've got anxiety, this is what it might look like if I have a panic attack. And I didn't have a single one that term, or the term after.

I built up confidence just by reinforcing my new beliefs that people really weren't as hyperfocused as I was. I became more social - I had a cubicle of three other students around me, so I joined in on their discussions and even had a good time

Fast forward a few years, I'm now more comfortable and confident in any social situation than ever. I call with friends every week, I go out with my partner and do all sorts of stuff together, I have this huge community of people around me in all kinds of capacities!

I'm not you, and what worked for me isn't gonna be what works for you. Also? It's valid as fuck to not be in a place where you can at all comfortably socialize with any human beings at all, and to be there for so long that you just straight give up. Or maybe it's all you've ever known

That's fucking valid and you don't need to feel ashamed for it. And also, in my personal experience as someone who couldn't socialize without anxiety for several very formative years, people can become social

Doesn't mean you have to, or that one is better than the other. I'm just saying I was in a big doomer place before about my own ability to socialize and if I was talking to my past self, she'd be so fucking relieved to hear that things get better and she doesn't have panic attacks about talking to people anymore. She actually likes it

people are way way too generous in assuming that you can just “learn to be social” and everyone will welcome you with open arms and forgive you forever for all the years you spent not talking to people. sorry no. if you don’t start out social you never get the opportunity to become social. people assume that’s just how you are and treat you accordingly, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy

[psiqueromance]

after hours. l.jn

text divider

You sighed, your head aching from the interrupted sleep. You looked at Jeno, who was sleeping peacefully next to you, face down on the bed with his arms around the pillow that supported his head, his chest rising and falling gently with each slow breath that came from his half-open mouth.

You wondered if you should really wake him up at such an early hour, wondering if it would make him angry, his night's sleep being interrupted because his girlfriend wanted to eat a specific food that wasn't at home – deep down you knew he wouldn't mind, your boyfriend being too sweat to get upset over something so silly.

Slowly and lazily, you approached Jeno from behind him, one arm resting on his pillow to keep your balance while your other hand came to rest on his shoulders. Looking over his shoulder, you smiled softly at how peaceful your boyfriend looked sleeping. You shook him lightly, so as not to startle him but enough to wake him up. "Jeno?" you whispered close to his ear, kissing his cheek.

At first there were no answers, only your boyfriend's low snoring being heard, but after a few seconds of insistence it seemed that his slumbering state had ceased, a low whine sound coming from his lips as he rubbed his eyes. "Babe, are you awake?" you asked him softly.

Jeno opened his eyes, half closing them as he tried to see the time on the clock on the nightstand next to him. "Babe, it's late, what are you doing up?" He murmured, almost incomprehensible, turning over with his eyes closed again and hugging you around the waist, making you lie down on the bed again as he hugged you and put the blanket back over your body, in an attempt to go back to sleep.

You felt him put his head in the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your chin. "I want to eat ramen from that Yuzu shop." You said determinedly, noticing your boyfriend take his face away from your neck and look at you with a judging look. "It's two in the morning." He said as if it was obvious.

"I know, honey, but I woke up with an absurd desire to eat that spicy ramen... I won't be able to sleep if I don't eat it." You said with the best puppy eyes you could muster, Jeno looking at you with that same judging look before sighing and getting out of bed.

The next thing you knew, you and your boyfriend were out in the middle of the night in your nightclothes.

Since you left the house, Jeno had kept his arm around your shoulders, pulling you as close as possible, probably to warm you both up on that cold night, and to have a sense of protection over you.

You looked up, finding your boyfriend still trying to shake off the sleep by rubbing his eyes. The sight of your boyfriend in that way was cute, but you couldn't help but feel bad about taking him out of the comfort of his bed to go out into the cold and windy streets of Seoul. "Sorry, I really need that ramen."

Jeno met your eyes, smiling lazily before placing a kiss on the top of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. "It's okay y/n, there's nothing I wouldn't do for my girl."

You smiled, lowering your head to hide your embarrassed expression.

Jeno opened the glass door of the establishment, the place empty but much warmer than outside. After letting you in first, your boyfriend comes in and closes the door, leading you towards the variety of instant ramen stacked up, each one in different flavors. "Spicy?" he asked you, looking down, you nodded watching him take the package.

You sat on one of the white stools that was in front of a pink counter, leaning your elbow on it and resting your head on your hand, watching your boyfriend put the ramen in the weird machine that put the water in the ramen to boil.

After a few minutes he came back with the small plastic bowl with the ready ramen inside, he placed it on the counter in front of you and gave you the small packet with the sauce. He sat next to you, resting his head on your shoulder as he watched you put the sauce in the bowl, mixing it with the rest of the noodles. "Do you want some?" You spoke quietly, noticing Jeno's imminent sleepiness.

"Nah, I told you these instant foods are bad for health, they can cause cancer and stuff..." he said with a sigh. 

"If you say so..."

After a few moments, you were about to finish eating, when you felt Jeno lift his head from your shoulder. "Actually..." You smiled, knowing that the man couldn't resist a good spicy ramen.

He didn't need to say anything else before you offered him some of the food, turning to him with your chopsticks between your fingers. He smiled, always loving the habit of you always feeding each other.

A few minutes passed and the food was finished, the two of you stood up, both full and very sleepy. While you paid on the computer with the card your boyfriend handled you, Jeno hugged you from behind, his head in the crook of your neck as he breathed slowly.

After paying, you turned in the man's embrace, lifting his head and giving a peck on his lips, smiling after. "All done."

He smiled before pouting his lips. "Can we go home now, babe? I'm sooo sleepy." Jeno said, throwing his head back in an exhausted voice.

You giggled, kissing his cheek. "Yes Jen, we can go."

He smiled without showing his teeth, his eyes shining with the love that was reserved for you. Jeno tightened his grip on your waist, bringing you impossibly closer. "You know I love you, right?"

"I love you too, sleepyhead."

[ephemerensis]

I Don’t Smoke // Jason Todd x GN!Reader

this is the last song my band covered before we disbanded so i was feeling sentimental 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ but i do not encourage smoking to be clear!! jason is a coin flip and a brick wall, a brick wall you are unfortunately attached to. this was supposed to be done alot earlier but turbulent times! ended up cat sitting for my cheater ex bc his house burnt down 😨👍

—

You remember the first time you took a drag out of a cigarette. It hit the back of your throat before you knew you were breathing it, and burned the whole way through. Bitter and brute. As you coughed your worth out of your body, expelling smoke and air and tears, you were convinced then that your lungs were blackened and would be forever. Your friends laughed and you told them you’d never smoke again.

That was ages ago. You were ashamed of it, the pack of Winston’s you always kept tucked away in your nightstand and the matchbox that accompanied it. But on nights that were long and extra quiet, like this one, you’d slip one to remember the taste.

Winston was Jason’s brand. He liked them because they were smooth, sweeter than your average while still strong enough to bite in the aftertaste. Balanced. Metaphoric in a way, for the way he acted.

He didn’t always smell of tobacco, only when he suddenly appeared to you during later hours, a visage of smoke and sweat, or when he wore that one leather jacket that the smell couldn’t be washed from. You’d get a whiff of it when he leaned over to drape an arm over your shoulder; you learned to hate it less.

But he always tasted like them, unmistakable and permanent. It lingered on his lips every time you kissed, and then it became synonymous. You learned to miss him, the sweetness and the bite.

It was hard to say you and Jason were ever going steady. There was an awkward push and pull game both of you played, and neither of you had the courage to question it; at least, you didn’t.

When things were good they were almost domestic. You went out together fairly often. He’d make you soup if you were sick, pat the sweat off your brow. You’d hold him through lightning storms, when the clash of thunder sounded too much like clanging metal and triggered a childlike fear in him.

But he’d never move in with you, he’d get defensive at the notion, and that hurt more than it needed to. You’d hinted at it before, after he’d known you long enough, but you only asked once. You knew it was a mistake when he tensed up, but at first you couldn’t tell if it was nerves or anger talking.

“What for?” Whatever playful tone he had before had a coldness injected into it now. You should’ve known it was anger, he didn’t react on nerves.

“You always stay the night,”despite the pit forming in your stomach, you tried to be lighthearted about it. You could smile like it wasn’t a big deal. “You know my kitchen, and I do your laundry. The guest room is your room.”

“So what? I leave a couple shirts and that means I live with you? That doesn’t mean anything.” There were times that felt like an unscalable wall divided the two of you, and this was one of them. It meant less than you thought it did. He couldn’t be blamed for it. You couldn’t have helped it.

“Okay. Sorry I brought it up.”

Jason had a habit of turning into smoke sometimes, very quickly out of sight and undeniably out of reach. Going no contact with the whim of the wind, it was like you weren’t a priority. You probably weren’t. He never breathed a word about where he would disappear to, and you knew better than to prod too much.

And when he was back sometimes you’d feel the wall again. Bruised and brooding, untouchable by your hands or your mind. He felt violent, the way he was rougher when he grabbed things and avoided touching you. Jason wasn’t the type to hurt you or actively lash out, but you felt the anger anyway in the glass shards you found in the trash or the tinkling sounds of trinkets against walls in his room.

It didn’t make you mad, or even scared. It just hurt to know he wouldn’t trust you with it. To know that his temper wasn’t going anywhere, and you weren’t adequate to touch it. The anger had to leave him somehow, and surely hiding it behind broken vases wasn’t enough. But you didn’t have the gall to say much about it, he was deeply distrusting and you were deeply complacent.

You weren’t yourself when you met him. That was your excuse. In a way, it set the tone for everything. After a particularly bad break up, you found yourself on the messy end of one too many mimosas and a handsome, tall stranger that was willing to listen to you slur about the cheater this and that asshole that.

The same stranger took you to his cozy apartment after you couldn’t hold your head up and decreed you’d forgotten your address.

Despite being a greek god of a man, he was awkward when you couldn’t help but cry, overwhelmed with emotion and alcohol. He didn’t touch you the whole night, just watched like a cornered dog. And he didn’t bring it up in the morning when you threw up on his carpet before passing out.

Anyone else would’ve left you at the bar, and if you were anyone else he would’ve done the same. But supposedly you were special, he said. Captivating and sincere, in a kicked puppy sort of way, and it was enough to wipe your vomit off the floor without a fuss.

It was hard not to like him after all that. And his chiseled jaw didn’t hurt either.

But sometimes you wish weren’t so casual about things when you’d met. If you explained that waking up in someone else’s apartment with no recollection was something alien to you, instead of playing it off, things might be different.

You thought he liked you because you were casual— cool, easygoing. He knew you as someone who didn’t overreact or get flustered easily or clutch caution. That’s who you were from the morning you woke up, asked who he was, and apologized for inconveniencing him. And it was the desire for consistency, fear of hurting what you built, that you remained complicit.

Your lungs were black now; jet black, like his hair and his favorite pair of boots. You were as casual as you were a smoker when you’d met, but when the smell lingers it doesn’t leave and the desperate desire to remember taste creeps in again. And sometimes you missed yourself, but not as much as you missed him in his increasing absence. The way the smoke seeped in, it clung to your walls and your favorite sleeping shirts and it was impossible now not to miss him.

You could always kick the habit, but not the taste of his lips. All of this, for him to hold you at arm’s length. After clinging to your walls and clothes and bed spreads, he had the nerve to say nothing. Sometimes the smoke was enough to kill fear for frustration, you had to deserve more than that. It had to hurt more to stay silent. He meant too much for you to be nothing.

So you ran it over again, your worth and your hurt, flicking the ashes off the half burnt roll. It wasn’t so disgusting anymore.

“Hey,” a familiar voice called out behind you. You didn’t hear him slip in, silent as ever. “It’s late.”

“It is,” you affirmed. Pressing the charred end of the cigarette against your banister put it out cleanly.

“You’re not sleeping?” A strong pair of arms caged your waist as you stared out at the pitch black skyline. Jason felt warm, as he usually did, a welcome contrast to the cold of the outside air.

“Well, you’re talking to me.” He hummed in response while you flicked what was left of the cigarette into the dustbin you kept on your balcony. Then, you asked a question you knew he wouldn’t like. “Where were you?”

“Business.” The answer was immediate and final. And vague.

“Why won’t you tell me?” you probed.

Jason stiffened, you could feel his arms tense around you, a warning. “Don’t start.“

His tone was callous, like all the affection and warmth he had dried up all at once. This was a different person.

“Do you hate me? Sometimes I get the sense that you do.” He let go of you and it was cold again, you didn’t have to turn around to know he was walking away.

“Go to bed. You’re not thinking straight.”

“No. I need you to give me something.” Before he could get too far, you caught him by his hand. He had rough hands, capable of violence, you knew, but you were never scared of that from him. “I’m what you want until you disappear again and you tell me nothing. And you come back and do it all over again, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to be to you.”

“Goodnight.” But he was stronger, you knew, and had no trouble ripping out of your grip to stalk off. If it ended like this you’d be at square one again. He’d lock his jaw and you’d bear the bite.

“Can’t you just yell at me!” You weren’t a beggar, but you’d never known desperation like this. That you could give someone else so much power over you. “I know you’re mad, just yell at me. It won’t hurt my feelings if you yell. Be mean. I can take it. But don’t sit with it and hate me, you can’t hate me—“

“Would you shut up?” At the very least he stopped, you were on the brink now, of your limit and his patience. You’d never seen him scowl like that, not at you, but it went as quickly as it came when he turned around. He’d never seen you cry like that, not over him.

“I don’t know where you go when you’re angry, but you can yell at me and stay. You always leave and if it’s because you’re mad at me then say so, I can listen.” You weren’t thinking, just spitting whatever bubbled up, “but I can’t be nothing to you, I have to matter enough for you to yell at me at least or tell me anything, I don’t have anything of yours and you are in everything I own.”

He paced over as you babbled, wiping off the forming tears with his thumbs. But Jason wasn’t an apologist or an open book, and once the smoke cleared from your lungs, you’d remember that. He held your heart in his volatile hands, and he’d decide how to break it. So he kissed your head and left anyway.

“We’ll talk in the morning.”

[typicalopposite]

tongue tied

thank you @nine-one-wanton for the title 😂🫶

BuckTommy | E (eh.. maybe M+) | 4859 words

also on ao3!

Mortification… 

That still isn’t a strong enough emotion to describe what Buck is feeling at the moment. 

He glances down at Tommy and asks if he’s still okay. All Tommy can do is blink in response; once for yes, twice for no. Pretty much any movement causes them both pain… and the humiliation is bad enough without them being overly sore as well. 

Tommy slides a gentle hand over Bucks thigh, doing his best to smile up at him. He inhales deeply through his nose and blows it back out, adjusting how he’s sitting on his legs, having to keep himself up high enough so he doesn't accidentally tug on the rings— tangled together and seemingly inseparable. 

There’s a knock at the loft’s door, and Buck hears Bobby’s voice yell out to him. He looks down at Tommy and sighs. 

This was definitely not how the team was supposed to learn they made up.

****

(Two months earlier) 

Tommy sat in a small chair, waiting his turn at the tattoo and piercing parlor. It had been years since Tommy had worn his little hoop earrings in his ears. Yet when he pushed the curved bar through the hole— thinking maybe they would be closed up and he’d have to force them— they just slipped right in. 

He considered getting a second hole, maybe. A nose ring. A belly button ring… 

Was he being dramatic— I want to feel something beyond the heartache I have caused for myself… so I’m going to go have a needle jabbed through some part of my body— maybe… He would agree, too, that maybe it was a little juvenile… a little petty even, to ultimately settle on a piercing Ev- no… Buck had shown so much interest in. He’d talked about having blowjobs from girls with tongue rings in his “Buck 1.0 days” (whatever that means); he said they were amazing. 

So now Tommy would have one, too… and he could give whoever the next guy he hooked up with amazing blow jobs. Take that memory of Buck that just wouldn’t leave! (in reality he knew he was fooling himself… He doubted there would ever be a next guy for him… Buck, however, would probably be getting plenty of better head from people way better than Tommy— whose knees don’t creak and ache after just a few short minutes on them, and who’s jaw hadn’t been shattered and wired shut in his teens so he can only hold it open for so long before it locks up.) 

He huffed angrily at the thought of someone else with Buck’s— with Evan's dick sitting heavy on their tongue; thrusting in and out, hitting the back of their throat. Someone else swallowing down every drop of his—

“Sir…” the receptionist said, thankfully interrupting his train of thought before he snapped his phone in half. “You’re up.” Tommy cleared his throat and thanked her, rubbing a hand over the heat climbing up his neck from embarrassment. 

He plopped down on the client chair and told the piercer what he wanted. He opted for the clear bar, and he had taken a (much needed) week off work; hopefully it would be healed by then. The woman gave him the instructions: sit up straight, stick out your tongue, please don’t try to grab my wrist. “People do that?” Tommy asked, around the clamp on his tongue, and she gave him an exhausted look. Sorry… he thought but didn’t say. 

He stuck his tongue out at himself in the bathroom mirror that night. It was swollen and very sore— it definitely didn’t make him feel better, but hey he’d always wanted to do something drastic. A tongue ring at forty counted… right? Yeah, it counted. He cleaned the piercing and went to bed. 

****

(One month earlier)

Buck wasn’t sure if this was just some Buck 1.0.2 phase or a very emotional based impulsive (probably stupid) decision resulting from his still broken heart. 

Still he was already there and had already put a deposit down; he might as well, right? 

He had come to the parlor alone, because… well, what would anyone he knows say about him doing something like this. Maybe if it was something simple like an ear piercing… or hell, even a tongue piercing. But this— this was not something his pseudo siblings or father figure would be on board tagging along to. Eddie was in El Paso… and he definitely wasn’t about to ask Maddie along.

The receptionist smiled at him, had him sign in, and told him to take a seat. 

He was early… Perhaps that had been a bad idea. His knee began to bounce and he fiddled with his fingers anxiously, staring around the parlor at the other clients ahead of him. Some laid back in the chairs getting tattooed— he should have just gotten another tattoo; what was he thinking— others getting any and every part of their body pierced. Most people were quiet. One lady in the back let out a scream so blood curdling Buck was about to get up and leave but—

“Sir! You're up!” 

Buck followed the piercer into one of the private rooms. The man was quiet and looked like he might bite Buck’s head off if given the chance. He instructed Buck to lower his pants, his boxers, and sit down on the pad covered seat. He did as he was told, and the seat was tilted back, putting him on full display thanks to the cold room. Why was he even doing this? Just because Tommy had said some guy he talked to before they even knew each other said he might get one? Was Buck really that shallow— that jealous?! 

“Alright, man… here we go.”

This was a bad idea. 

This was a bad idea.. 

WHAT THE FUCK WAS HE THINKING!?! 

This was so stupid! So bad! Such an impulsive idea! 

“And done!” 

Buck blinked once… twice… and looked down towards where the man was already slipping his gloves off. He pulled his dick up towards his stomach so he could see the little silver hoop hooked through his frenulum. “Oh,” he said, thanked the guy, paid and went home. 

****

(Two days earlier) 

Tommy played with the flat top of his tongue ring; he slid it back and forth over his teeth, he pushed the bar out enough to bite down on, all while he tapped on his steering wheel to the beat of a song playing on the radio. He was nervous. 

And the thing was… he shouldn’t be. 

He was a big brave grown man— capable of doing big brave grown man things… like to have drinks with an ex, whom he’s very much not over. He would be fine. 

Except the only spot available was directly beside the Jeep. 

“Fucking mother fucker.” Tommy grumbled out loud and turned into the spot hoping that maybe he wouldn’t be— 

He was still sitting in the driver seat. 

Cock sucking, bitch ass… What kind of god damned luck?!? How could he come to his senses about the meeting and run away now? 

He sighed and put the truck in park, then turned to look at him. It was the very first time he’d laid eyes on the man— beyond the pictures and videos he couldn’t bring himself to delete from his phone— since he walked out of the loft. 

Evan.

Or… Buck, since he’d decided to go that route and really drive the break up home. 

“H- Hey…” Buck said as soon as the both were out of their vehicles. “Thanks for — for the invite.” 

Tommy stuffed his hand down in his pockets, and chewed on the flat top to his tongue ring. “Of course,” he finally said. “I, uh… I felt like we really needed to talk about…”

“Everything?” Buck finished. 

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded along. “Everything.” 

“Okay… well for starters—” Buck wasted no time jumping right in. “Don’t ever call me Buck again.” He stared at Tommy so seriously before his lips twitched up a bit and he added, “please.”

“Noted,” Tommy said and there was a pause like he was waiting for— “Evan…” Tommy added and Evan fully smiled at that; he seemed relieved. “Okay, what else.” 

Evan stepped towards him. Tommy had the slightest urge to step back, but even more of one to move closer— to reach out and grab him and cling like his life depended on it. Evan reached for him first. “Don’t ever make a decision like that for me again.” Tommy waited, his eyes searching Evan’s… trying to say without saying how sorry he was. Finally Evan leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Tommy’s. “If I had needed more time to figure myself out… if I wasn’t sure about this— that you were what I wanted. I wouldn’t have just strung you along until I did… okay?” 

“Okay.” Tommy wanted to say more. He thought, maybe, he should say more… but his voice was lodged somewhere deep in his throat and all he could focus on was how his lips were tingling from that kiss. Evan, like a damn mind reader, took the moment to lean back in, deepening the kiss and wasting no time slipping his tongue into Tommy’s mouth. He noticed almost immediately. 

“You got a tongue piercing?!” 

“I— uh, yeah…” 

Evan’s eyes lit up mischievously… his breathing hitches then speeds up… he leaned in for another kiss.

****

(One hour earlier)

Buck had been very mature about the fact Tommy now had a tongue ring. In fact… he was so mature about it, that he didn’t suggest they forget the drinks, and their plans to actually talk like level headed adults do… In fact, after just one more kiss— one more quick swipe of his tongue over the flat top of the bar— he pulled away from Tommy completely; minus their hands, which Evan promptly laced together as they walked into the bar. 

And they talked. 

They actually talked.

They opened up— more than he’d expected them to.

They cried. They laughed. They left a few hours later and were officially back together.

Buck remained mature, and didn’t offer (beg, plead, or bargain) to follow Tommy back to his place, or bring him back to the loft. He allowed the night to end with them parting ways, but with the promise there would be a next time— and plenty of times after that—  So Buck was fine with going home alone. 

But when Tommy arrived at the loft, a bottle of wine in hand, his curls styled nicely, and wearing the cologne that he knew Buck loved… the maturity went out the window. He tugged him in by the collar and crashed their lips together. Buck had asked him to put a regular bar in, one with the bigger metal ball. Tommy had laughed and made a bitchy little joke but as Buck’s tongue passed over the piercing he let his lips curl up into a pleased smirk to find Tommy had done as he’d asked. 

They wasted no time; Tommy’s fingers ran along the hem of Buck’s shirt while Buck hurriedly pushed Tommy’s button-down off of his shoulders. “There’s something you should know…” Buck says as they nearly tripped over each other getting up the stairs, pieces of their outfits falling off every couple steps. He leans in close to Tommy’s ear and whispers, “I got something pierced too…” then he falls back onto the bed, pants and boxers already gone and his cock standing straight up like it’s showing it’s new accessory off. 

Tommy’s eyes widen. His brows fly all the way up to his hairline. He crawls onto the bed and takes Buck in his hand, tilting him back to look at the piercing better. “It’s healed, right?” Buck nearly gives himself whiplash nodding. Tommy leans in and flicks the tip of his tongue over the hoop— over the little piece of skin it’s going through— and Buck sucks in a sharp breath. “Good?” Tommy asks. 

“Amazing!” 

“Okay, great…” Tommy says, then goes back to licking at the piercing and around the head, and down the shaft. All the while Buck is moaning and squirming. It shouldn’t be so over-stimulative but it’s been so long… he hasn’t— not like this— not since Tommy. “Missed you; missed this…” Tommy says between licking down Buck’s cock and sucking the tip into his mouth, which only seems to make it so much more sensitive. 

Buck’s toes curl as Tommy takes him all the way down. And, God, how he has missed that. Buck whimpers and lets his hands move up into Tommy’s curls; messing them up, sure, but he doesn’t care. Tommy bobs his head, making sure to flatten his tongue and let the ball rub over Buck with every slide down and back up, and it feels just as amazing as Buck remembered— it feels even better, actually. 

Tommy moves Buck’s legs further apart so he can settle on the bed more. He flicks his eyes up to meet Buck’s and smiles around his cock, lining himself up so the ball goes over the hoop. It’s— well it’s mind blowing…

…at first. 

Tommy gets a little too into it. 

Probably due to the completely wanton noises pouring out of Buck’s mouth. He slides down all the way to the bottom, presses his tongue against the underside so the ball is pressed into the tender skin and starts to slide back up. He reaches the hoop… and somehow the ball just pops through it. 

Buck thinks he’s really just thankful Tommy caught the mishap immediately… without trying to pull off— so fucking thankful. 

“Uhh…” is all Tommy can manage. He holds himself up with one arm and brings the other up to try to get a finger in his mouth, to the where they are quite literally linked together. He can’t. 

And just like that… Buck’s pride in his size disappears. 

****

Tommy tries to move his tongue, ever so gently so he doesn't tug at the ring, but it’s useless. He wants to cry. He looks up at Evan… who is looking down at him… and looks terrified, and he can’t shake his head so he just sighs. “You have got to be joking… Tommy, what do we do?!” 

Tommy knows what they have to do… and he knows Evan knows what they have to do. 

“We can’t! Tommy, Maddie is at work! What if she takes the call?” He waits for a second like he’s expecting Tommy to answer, he can only blink back. “A- And I’m in the 118’s district… oh my god…” Now Evan looks ready to cry, and Tommy can’t even properly hold him about it. He runs his hand up Evan’s side, hoping it does something to soothe him. “Maybe if… if I can just get soft…” he suggests. Tommy shrugs, he doubts it but he doesn’t blame Evan for not wanting to call… this absolute disaster… in. 

So they wait. 

And wait.

And wait…

Drool starts to pool in Tommy’s mouth and he tries to swallow it as carefully as he can. His throat spasms, and Evan hisses, and Tommy makes a wounded noise by means of apologizing. To make matters worse, not that Evan’s erection had gone down much sitting in Tommy’s mouth… but the tightening of his throat from swallowing definitely didn’t help. They are doomed, he fears.

He looks up at Evan and tries to lighten the mood with a smile, and Evan manages to smile back, before dropping his head to his pillow and letting out a pitiful sob. 

Tommy knows they can’t sit here forever. He taps Evan’s leg and points to Evan’s pants that are the closest to the bed. Carefully they shimmy together, over to the edge, until Tommy slides off the bed, stretching out his leg to pull the pants over to him. He sits himself on his legs and pulls out the phone. Evan still seems hesitant so Tommy grunts around him and puts the phone in his hand. 

“Okay, fine.” 

Thank you, Tommy thinks and sighs. He slowly moves his tongue, still trying to find a way to pop the ball back through the hoop, but it’s just no use. He brings an arm up and uses it to prop up his head, and listens as Evan types in the dreaded numbers. 

He puts it on speaker and rests his body back on his free arm. “9-1-1 what is the location of your emergency…” Tommy watches Evan inhale deep and let out a long drawn out sigh. He gives his address, and immediately the dispatcher gasps. “Buck?” 

“Hey Josh…” 

****

“What's going on, are you okay?” Josh asks, eyes flicking up to look at Maddie who is in the middle of her own call and hasn’t yet heard her brother's name. 

“Well… define okay.” 

“Do you need medical assistance? I can send your team—”

“No!” Josh’s mouth snaps shut at the urgency in Buck’s voice. “Not— Not them… and Josh… please don’t tell Maddie you’re talking to me.” 

Josh glances back up at Maddie, and sighs. “Okay…” he says slowly; quizzically. “So what’s going on?” 

“Me and Tommy are stuck… together.” Josh waits for more, but his first panicked thought is that there has been some accident at Buck’s loft. 

“A- Are you— either of you hurt?” 

“Not… exactly. Just stuck.” 

“Like… in the elevator?” Josh pries, since Buck is giving him very little information. 

“I wish…” Buck groans, and Josh hears a muffled snort. “No, we're inside my apartment.” 

Josh tries to run through where they could be stuck in the small loft… He comes up with nothing, And Buck has gone silent. “Okay, look… I have no idea what’s going on, or how to help you, so I’m going to need you to give me a little more details beyond just ‘We’re stuck’.” 

Nothing— Nothing!!— could have prepared Josh for what Buck just blurts out next. 

“Tommy’s tongue ring is stuck through my dick ring…” 

Of course that’s the moment Maddie decides to look up at him. Her brows furrow and she mouths what’s wrong? Josh is pretty sure he resembles a deer in headlights, and he might have forgotten how to speak beyond a startled, “Oh…”

There’s a pause and Buck speedruns Josh through a quick explanation of what has happened, that Josh can only mmhmm back too, biting his lips between his teeth to stop them from curling upward and trying to figure out exactly how to word this in the notes to whoever he sends to… help. (33 and 40 year old males. No serious injuries. Unable to come to the door… prepare to be scandalized— he doesn’t add that last part)

Maddie is still just staring at him with a progressively getting more worried look. Finally she takes her earpiece off and starts towards him. Shit… he thinks, then quickly sends the 133 with a final note that an ambulance will possibly be needed. “What’s going on, Josh…” Maddie asks, looking at his screen. She immediately recognizes Buck’s address, gasps and grabs Josh's earpiece. “Buck?! Buck, are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

Josh watches the voice recorder from the call and it doesn’t move. “M- Maddie listen…” he tries, and reaches for the earpiece back; Maddie slaps his hand in return. 

Her eyes frantically move over the screen, furrowing as she tries to decipher what the notes could mean. She comes to the unit responding, and scoffs. “Why would you send the 133, Josh… the 118 is closer!” And Josh can do no more than run a hand down his face, and continue to bite back the laugh that has been threatening to break free since Buck explained the actual situation. “Buck I’m sending the 118 to you… everything’s going to be okay.” Her mouth pulls down into a worried frown. “Are you there? Can you please say something…” 

****

“Th- Thanks Mads…” is all Buck can think to say. 

Tommy’s eyes widen, and he finds Buck's hand to hold it. 

“What’s going on…” Maddie continues to press. “Is— is Tommy with you? Is he hurt? Buck, do I need to go there?”

“Please, no!” Buck cries out. “I’m… fine. It’s fine. We’re— we’re fine. R- Right Tommy?” He squeezes his eyes shut realizing Tommy can’t agree. 

He does manage a garbled “Uh huh,” though… (To which Buck hears Josh snort then quickly clear his throat.) 

“I, uh… I’m gonna hang up now…” Buck says, then before Madie can say anything he adds, “I swear I’m— we’re really okay. I promise.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I— I’m sure…” he tells her, hangs up and throws his head back with a loud groan. Tommy sighs around him and moves the hand propping up his head and rubs at his jaw, reminding Buck of the reason Tommy never drags out his blowjobs. “Fuck! Tommy your jaw,” he says, and moves Tommy’s hand to rub over the spot himself. “A- and your knees have to be killing you!” Tommy shrugs and leans his face into Buck’s hand. “Is this at least helping,” he asks; Tommy cocks a brow, and his lips curl up into a smirk. “Oh my god… blink once for yes twice for no,” he groans, laughing only when Tommy blinks once. 

Which brings them back to the present. Bobby yells that they are coming in and the only silver lining is that Bobby has a key so they don’t have to break his door in. Something taps Buck’s leg and it’s his phone that Tommy has typed up a message on. 

pocket knife. cut off my tongue. I’ll go out the window.

That startles a laugh out of Buck… which is immediately followed by a pained hiss from them both. The front door opens and Buck groans. “Up here…” he says, and they both listen as the entire team— hell it sounds like the entire station— files in. 

Tommy whimpers when Chimney calls out, jokingly asking if Buck’s decent, and grabs the blanket to pull over his head. 

“Alright Buck what’s… going… on…” Bobby says, first to get up the stairs— his worried look melts away and is replaced by something akin to absolute horror, which Buck 100% gets. 

“What on earth…” Hen gawks as she comes up behind Bobby. 

Buck feels like his face is about to catch on fire, and Tommy hasn’t moved since covering his head— so he has either convinced himself if he doesn’t move they can’t see him… or he has died. 

“Is that Tommy?!” Chimney blurts out, looking around Hen and Bobby, who both slowly turn and look back at him.

Chimney shrugs. “What? I can appreciate nice features without it meaning anything, thank you very much.” He moves past her and gestures at Tommy’s backside. “And when you got it you got it…” Tommy makes a choked off noise— so, at least that means he’s not dead… 

“Wait so is it really Tommy?” Ravi calls from the bottom of the stairs. Buck doesn’t answer… which is enough of an answer in and of itself. 

Bobby turns back to Buck, rolling his eyes at the others. He sighs. “Okay, what exactly is going on here, Buck.” 

Before he can even think up a decent answer, Tommy twitches, stiffens and then pulls his hand up to scratch at his nose. He grunts, and takes a deep breath, and Buck watches in horror as it finally clicks what exactly Tommy is doing under the blanket. “This has got to be a prank,” Hen says, pulling off her glasses and covering her eyes. “Buck… tell me this is a prank.” 

Tommy continues to squirm and finally while holding his nose to suppress it, he sneezes. Buck yelps and Tommy mumbles incoherent apologies. The loft falls completely quiet; all eyes are now on him, waiting for an explanation. 

His phone rings first, and he expects it to be Maddie… but it’s Eddie— and he doesn’t need to deal with that— so he sends it to voicemail. 

Then Tommy’s phone starts to vibrate down stairs. “Ignore it,” Buck instructs when Ravi asks if he wants it brought up to them. 

About a second after it stops, Chimney's phone rings and he answers without hesitation, putting it on FaceTime.

“Oh… oh my god!” Eddie gasps. “You two didn’t…” he sounds like he’s crying and sucks in a breath. “You two idiots didn’t… did you?!” Buck glares at Chimney, but he is unfazed, turning the camera for Eddie to see them. “You did!” 

“I’m so lost,” Chimney says, looking at Bobby.

Hen is still covering her face and shaking her head. 

“These two—”

“Eddie…” Buck pleads— but really… What's the use in hiding details? “Whatever…” he groans and turns his eyes to the ceiling, and Eddie shares what he knows.

And apparently, he knows everything. 

So Buck wasn’t the only one who went to Eddie about his impulse body modification. Tommy had told him too— he texted Eddie after learning of his move to El Paso, and it just slid its way into the conversation. 

“How did you even find out about this?” Buck groans.

“Josh told me.” 

“Oh, but he couldn’t tell us so we knew what we were about to walk in on…” Hen says bitterly. 

“And since when do you and Josh talk?” Buck adds. 

“That is my business,” Eddie quips back. “You all  have fun with… yours.” He wiggles his fingers at them, laughs again, and ends the call. 

Chimney and Hen give each other strained looks, both clearly trying to hold it together. Bobby takes a deep breath, resting his hands on his hips and stares down at Buck. “Okay well we— we need to get you two… separated—” His lips tremble and he tries to stop the laugh but it bubbles out anyway. That's all the motive Hen and Chimney need to both double over. Even Ravi is laughing down stairs. 

Tommy makes a pained noise and Buck knows he has to be hurting from sitting like this for so long. “Yeah, yeah… laugh it up. Can we please figure out how to actually do that?” 

“Well we have to see what we’re dealing with first,” Hen says, grabbing the blanket without warning and lifting it up. “Oh my god…” she nearly chokes, and has to walk down stairs to compose herself. 

Yeah mortification was definitely not a strong enough word. 

It only takes the team five minutes to get them separated— Buck is sure it will take a lifetime to live it down. 

****

“Are you sure you don’t want to go in and get checked out?” Bobby asks; Tommy just shakes his head and puts his hand over Evan’s, where he is holding a frozen bag of peas against his jaw. “Alright,” he gives them both a smile— it looks more uncomfortable than when he was given the medal of valor at the ceremony. “You, uh— you two…” he looks between Tommy and Evan. “Well, I’m glad you… worked things out.” 

“That’s one way to describe what happened here tonight,” Chimney says, smiling smugly at the both of them.

Hen comes up beside Tommy and lays a hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s safe to say you can definitely keep up.” Tommy slowly lifts his eyes to her and she can’t hold back the laughter. “Maybe a little too well— you might wanna slow down actually.” 

“Uhm, what— what does that mean?” Evan leans in and asks; again… Tommy just shakes his head. 

Ravi hands Evan the little baggie the two rings were put in once they were removed. He doesn’t say anything, and just leaves. He pulls the door shut behind him, and then they are left alone, embarrassed, and sore in their respective affected areas. 

Evan holds the bag up and sighs. “That was… something.” 

“Yeah…” Tommy laughs, finally feeling like he can move his jaw again without it popping. “Next time, maybe we don’t go with the ball and hoop combo. 

“N- Next time?” Evan furrows his brow but his lips are already curling up at the corners. 

Tommy shrugs and grabs Evan’s hand pulling it to his lips. “If I have learned anything lately… it’s the importance of giving things another chance…” 

Evan’s smile widens. “Wow. That was— just wow...” he laughs and pulls Tommy into a kiss; he winces when just the slight movement hurts. “I’m sorry about your jaw, and your knees.” 

“I’m sorry about your… frenulum,” Tommy replies and Evan snorts. “Now I can’t finish what I started…” 

They both pout at that… for just a moment. “Yeah, b- but… my jaw doesn’t hurt,” Evan says with a suggestive smirk. “And your dick doesn’t hurt…” He bites his lip and tugs on Tommy’s hand to stand him up.

“This is true…” Tommy states. 

“So maybe we can finish what we started after all…” Evan leans in and brushes his lips over Tommy’s then turns and heads for the stairs, Tommy right behind him, and the silver hoop and tongue ring left behind on the table for next time. 

[hollyhomburg]

@mocha000

oooooh I will have to track it down and find the yoongi video for you!! I will see if I can track it down later- one of the like small things about writing chapter so far apart is that i loose alot of my inspiration videos/picutres :( I love videos of bts doing normal things theres something so like- domestic about it? Idk I just love the little things. 

Okay, but if i’m not careful i’ll just talk about girl dicks and nothing else like /seriously/ if you haven’t- see? see what i’m talking about! you cannot get me started on this!! honestly i struggled with the description of yoongi haveing a knot. like how would you describe it? i don’t have a dick so- it’s kinda hard for me to put myself in their shoes. The pussy stuff is alot easier for me to like- make up tbh. 

You know I did not realize just how subby I made Yoongi when I wrote this but tbh I’m not complaining, I think it’s verry within the bounds of his charecter to want to depend on the others during these moments when things are changes in the pack structure. 

tbh i love that hobi is like- kinda a bit of a creep in this, like just a little- he might really really like watching the m/c and yoongi fuck with knots invovled we might see…the return of his facination next chapter! but thats the last smutt chapter for a little while! promsie. 

Honestly how non-verbal they both get in this is also like- fucking me up, I love that they feel like they’re in their own little world but are also like- being taken care of by the pack, the subby fantasy. 

Okay but there should have been more I love you’s in this :( that’s my one self critisizm for it. there needs to be more lovey dovey bullshit! especially her calling him perfect for her later in the chapter like! yes! thats your mate honey! sometimes i wanna take real yoongi by the ears and also tell him that he’s perfect. 

lowkey love yoongi being so so so enamoured with her being milky though <3 i love it. esepcially with tae and yoongi <3 i’m so soft for them <3 especially with the kind of shifting dymaic of yoongi being both dom and sub depending on whose doing the fucking. the dirty talk in this chapter was like so so so hard. i’m glad that you liked it and apreciated it but- some parts of it took alot of edits. 

i love that the ‘if i lick it it’s mine’ stuff didn’t seem too campy, i wanted to remind everyone with this chapter that you know- they are all kinda kids, in their midtwenties-early 30’s like- theyre still gonna be goofy sometimes, they won’t always be perfect people or say things that arent like gen z or milienialisms. 

I love that both Namjoon and Yoongi are kinda both like “yeah fuck Dr.Pearl,” and the medical advice when it comes to the m/c like- they are very very confident that they can handle it themselves. and it’s so dumb of them! but also so cute!

Honestly Namjoon deserves all the kudos for his self restraint, here he is in the nest, his omega’s acting cute and slutty and he’s just a good alpha and watches 🥰 need me an alpha like namjoon. 

the chaos and familiarity shown in this chapter is actually probably my favorite part, someone mentioned it in the teaser but yes- it does feel very real when they’re all like talking over each other and communicating togeather to cuddle like- ugh, i think one of the biggest fantasies that i have as someone who enjoys bts content is just the friendship and simple intimacy that they have. i want this story to be like- a place where you can imagine you’re in the middle of that too. 

tbh i think spanking jk was the only way that the pack could keep him seated and paying attention while the m/c was riding yoongi otherwise he would have gotten up close and personal. in my mind- jk in heat doesn’t have like- a very good idea of body boundaries? like he’s a big puppy who doesn’t realize often “hey they’re having a private moment maybe i shouldn’t go over and cuddle them” like that’s his pack of course he would be allowed to get in the middle of it? 

as for what yoongi must have said to the m/c when they lean close and have their private moment- i think it could be anything, could be a little bit of praise or maybe just them telling each other they love each other. we are also on the outside looking in at them too- so thats why i wanted to leave it up to interpretation like- whatever you most want to read him say to her is what he says. 

listen i love love love jungkook in omegaspace, i love omegaspace in general actually, there is somethign so cute and silly with it <3 i love the added edge of veulnerability it makes in the story, esecpially during sexually intimate scenes. 

yeah listen i know i was only letting hoseok have one mouthful but! but! i was running out of pretty ways to describe it :( maybe in the next chapter- because the only smutty bit in that is a yoongi x hobi scene that is 😵‍💫 a bit of a doosie. 

OKAY ON THE LACTATION BIT- i have done a bit of reasearch on this topic 👀 for reasons, and apparently it can only take a few days of constant nipple stimulation to make your body start to lactate just a little like- the quickest ive seen on forums is solid sucking for 9 hours straight which seems! a bit excessive! but i think with a bit of supliments you could very very easily make it happen. 

thank you for your comment once again <3 i’m glad that none of this slightly more extreme smutt than usual seems to have been too much <3 i always worry but i shouldn’t because you always leave such nice comments!

until next time! 

Before I Leave You (Pt. 80)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: “Come on hyung, fuck her like you mean it.”

Tags: Groupsex, Mating cycles/in heat, fivesome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, slight Jungkook x m/c focus, praise kink, Knotfucking, dumbification, mind-break, Namjoon calls Yoongi a bitch once in like a sexy way, omegaspace sex, lactation kink, false pregnancy, some good ol' tiddy sucking, omega x omega content, scissoring, pussy spanking, excessive squirting, size kink, breif mention of monstercock dildos, overstimulation kink, forced orgasam (but not in a cnc way), knot milking, mommy kink, daddy kink, trans characters, discussion of girl knot/cock, girl on top, feral sex, biting, humor, this is soft and horny and funny and sweet.

W/c: 12.7k

A/n: Ahhhh i'm sorry it took so long for me to write this chapter- the good thing is the next one won't be that far off! Until then if you like this story and want to read a different version of the beginning that has like 5+ additional chapters of how yoongi and the m/c got together you can read it here.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

As you can expect, there is some clamoring around Yoongi.

Everyone reaches to feel, to touch, to check. Your hand is among the others tangling with Tae's fingers then Hobi's. Every touch is exploratory, curious, and coming to terms. Shocked and happy, weirded out and displeased. There are so many emotions that everyone's scents are all over the place. Surprised, excited, and scared.

Jungkook starts to tip his head, eyes open, leaning into Namjoon's space and falling, like he can't figure out which alpha to please with the scent of a new knot in the air. Jin lets out a shocked noise, not entirely upset but still.

“Wow is he bigger than Minnie and Hobi?” “I don’t know, but you should definitely measure.” “It feels so much less firm than a normal knot,” “Like squish mellow” “And he’s got that vein! I can see it pulse!” "Wow what the fuck, it’s so pink."

"Am I dreaming it's like my dream for everyone to have a knot."

"Even the pup?"

"Especially the pup. Have you seen Tae's dick? Girl knots are like- so ugh."

Until it gets too much, until Yoongi’s hips splay, and his head tips back, breath ragged. “Guys I’m-”

"Alright." Namjoon snaps, loudly. "Everyone back off. Give him some room."

You do not back up, you curl up around your mate's body protectively, still barely conscious of the fact that you're dripping into the nest below you. But you don't really think that Namjoon was talking about you and he doesn't make you move once you snatch your hand back. Resting it loosely on Yoongi's hip, clutching at his shirt like you think someone is going to take him away.

Namjoon eyes your hand and then your face. You tip your chin down demurely like there can't possibly be any way you'd missbehave. Namjoon huffs, shaking his head before he ducks down.

The pack alpha examines Yoongi’s knot under an appraising eye. His big hands turning it this way and that, Yoongi’s eyes roll back no one gives him shit for rocking up into Namjoon’s touch, needy.

Does knotting always feel this way? There’s pressure in his lower stomach, a tightening that makes no sense. That sort of feels like his self-control is spiraling away or dangling on the edge of a very precarious edge. Like all of him is about to break or perhaps be made whole.

Yoongi doesn't like thinking of sex as something necessary for love. But knotting certainly feels like a cross between the two.

No wonder why alphas are such knotheads. If fucking always felt like this, like the sex equivalent of a full body hug that lasts for hours, instead of a singular moment of euphoria and closeness. Yoongi would never want to fuck any other way. No wonder why they're so possessive too.

This feeling- Yoongi’s not addicted, not yet.  

You hook your chin over his shoulder to watch, sniffling. And Yoongi is a little too aware of you. The way your body lies against his arm, the dewy brush of his wrist on your stomach as you set your body against his. He must be going insane; he must have bit you again and given you a fresh mating mark. Because it feels like he can feel the mating mark wrapping around his cock.

You're a little more lucid because the pack’s sour scents cut through the breeding haze.

“Is Yoongi like- presenting?” Your voice sounds so small, so fragile. Yoongi bares his teeth at it. He tips his head into yours, nosing at the side of your face. Trying to reassure you. Trying not to bite. Hissing when Namjoon once again pulls at the skin of his knot.

“I don’t think so,” Namjoon says carefully, slowly. Reaching for Jin's glasses on the edge of the nest (because they're roughly the same prescription) so that he can take a look at the underside of Yoongi’s cock and the scent glands just below it.

They’re not puffy and not swollen like an alpha's. Alpha's knot to scent mark, not just breed. It's surprisingly a relief knowing that not all of Yoongi's biology has changed.

"He’s like still a beta? Right?”

“As far as I can tell yes.” Namjoon hesitates, poking at Yoongi’s knot harder. Eyes flicking up to measure his response. Yoongi does not snap at him, doesn’t do anything but lean against the column of Namjoon’s arm like he’s having a hard time holding his body up. When Namjoon puts his hand on the base of Yoongi’s throat, he doesn’t do anything but close his eyes.

"No- if you were an alpha you'd be biting my head off right now. You're definitely not presenting" Namjoon decides, begging that it's true. His own instincts are just a hum beneath his skin.

Namjoon might be a man of science, but he does trust his instincts more than he’d ever willingly admit. Namjoon's inner alpha is not chomping at the bit for a show of dominance and is not threatened by the sudden muskiness of another foreign knot. A shock in itself. Any scent of an unfamiliar knot combined with the smell of their omega in heat would make any of the alphas, even hoseok the tamest one, go feral. Packs work that way.

Beyond an extra layer of horniness, Yoongi’s thick chocolate scent has not changed. Not even a little bit once Namjoon sniffs and rolls the taste of it around on his tongue.

Namjoon presses the side of his face to Yoongi’s neck and closes his eyes. You can feel Yoongi’s heart flutter with how you’re holding onto his arm. After a moment namjoon pulls away. “You’ll be fine.”

You sag, a bit in relief. Yoongi? An alpha? If Namjoon says he’s not you believe him. Your brain is too hazy to think straight. But you decide you’re glad he’s not. Yoongi’s perfect- you’d hate it if something changed without his say-so. You babble, say it. And your mate covers his face.

“If I had to bet, I’d say it’s the mating mark. I’d like to take tests but-” Jin’s head jerks up, scent souring. Sensing a trip to the hospital before it’s even been said. Jungkook’s eyes on Yoongi don’t blink, grinning down at that knot with his hair in his face, already excited and dopey. As if talking about the hospital is enough to summon another seizure.

“After maybe. If it’s still a problem.” Namjoon caveats, pausing to rub down Yoongi’s arm, soothing him. Yoongi is still trembling. Still shaking so hard that he can't really move with any coordination.

“Has anything like this ever happened before?” Seokjin asks, carefully. Pillow over his bare lap. Namjoon has the good sense to at least put on some shorts. Jimin looks at Tae quickly and Tae does not return his gaze. Some secret soulmate conversation going on between them that you can’t read.

When you look up at Hobi- he’s watching your face. He doesn’t look away but after a moment he shrugs as if to say ‘Our beta has a knot- so what?’

“I’ve never heard of a beta popping a knot. I’m not sure. I think this might just be us.”

You groan, hiding your face under Yoongi’s chin. His breath heaves, and he turns back to you, nuzzling back.

“Is it my slick? Or the mating mark? Did I do this to him?” your eyes are wet, tears already threatening. You are already generally sensitive, and even more so in heat. Yoongi eases away your worries with a quick kiss to the side of your face. Cutting off your guilt before it has a chance to build.

“None of that now. If I had to change for anyone I’m glad it’s you.”

The pack is quiet around you, all in varying states of nudity. Quiet at the truth of what he says, how suddenly deep this has gotten. But he's right, you'd change for any of them. You wouldn't mind either. Yoongi rubs your cheek and you pull yourself half into his lap for a cuddle. Needy, too worn down to let it go. Yoongi’s hands go around your waist keeping you close. You melt into his arms, still sniffling.

"Your dick was perfect before though-"

"Sweetheart " he groans. You pull back from him, glancing down at his lap.

"What? I'm just saying-"

“Don’t look at it!”

Hoseok chokes back a laugh and tries to keep it in, but before you can help it everyone's laughing and covering their faces with their hands to keep from smiling. 

“You didn’t cum at all. Did you?" Namjoon asks, eyes dark. Yoongi starts to lift the hem of the shirt you wear, showing.

“No, I didn’t.” Yoongi can feel a bit of skin at the base of his cock, still loose, still half popped. If you weren’t more preoccupied with holding your mate and controlling your weepyness. You’d be more curious about the knot pressed between your legs.

Maybe this is just resource-guarding. Classic omega in heat, of course, the most valuable resource is your mate. 

“You know” Namjoon hesitates, looking from Yoongi to Jin. “Popping a knot without ejaculating sperm is kind of medically dangerous-”

“Namjoon-” Jin scolds.

“Sorry- without Cuming is actually kind of dangerous. Especially because it’s like, not typical for you to have a knot.” Namjoon licks his lips, "We should probably make sure that it's like- working."

You don’t know if it’s hornyness or just Namjoon being concerned for Yoongi’s health (probably a little bit of both) but you perk up. Blinking at the pack alpha who looks a little strained. A little like he’s trying not to look too much.

Across the nest, Jungkook shuffles forward, blatantly eyeing Yoongi’s knot like he’s just found his new favorite toy. But no sooner is he putting his hand on the beta’s tight before Jin is pulling him back the collar. "No no no pup, that's not yours yet."

He lets out a little bereft whimper but you hardly notice. Eyes bright and directed up at Namjoon. Like it honestly hadn’t occurred to you that now that your mate has a knot that means he can use it. Yoongi can knot you now. Pack Alpha is so smart! You don't know how it didn't occur to you yet but-

Oh, you really want that. You really want Yoongi to knot you.

The self-consciousness Yoongi felt earlier is entirely forgotten. You’re a little dumb in heat. A little floaty. Yoongi doesn’t mind. This is why you have packmates, to make these complicated decisions for you.

Yoongi’s hands are still firm around your waist. If Yoongi does have a knot now, for the time being, then you should get first dibs.

You whine, he was perfect without it really but you really really really like knots, your squishy omega brain is convinced that you need it. That it’s yours and your packmates are suddenly keeping it from you. You bare your teeth. No bite, all bark. You'd actually growl at them if Yoongi’s hands didn't clamp down around your waist. Hard. Harder than he usually touches you. It jogs you out of your reverie.

Marks. Kis fingers hold you hard enough that you could have bruises. Good. You want marks on you and on him. Your mating mark isn't enough. Not now, not with Yoongi having a knot.

“Should I, should you-” The pack settles in, ringing both you and Yoongi, as you stare each other down, both of your scents spiking wildly as you take each other in. Seeing each other in a new light.  

Yoongi laughs, deep and rough. And you get shivers down your spine. Your voice is high-pitched and squeaky from the strain. "Don't tease me."

He nudges the underside of your jaw with his nose. "Come on, it's sorta easy" his teeth brush your mating mark and you gasp, the threat of a bite but not a bite at all. "and you like it."

The pack looms closer so close they can reach out and touch, can reach out and feel. "Should we watch? I think we should watch" “Yes. Definitely yes.” “Yes, I think we should, yes please.” "they're so pretty when they fuck."

But Jungkook huffs, a little bratty, a little bit upset that there's a knot he's not allowed to ride. "Can't I get one lick?"

"No Koo" Jungkook jerks against his hold.

"If I lick it, is it mine? While she rides it does it count if I lick it?” Jungkook gets dragged over Jin’s lap for that one, completely happy with it as the other omega lands several swats over his behind. Giggling as he goes.

The slapping sounds are distant. Jungkook's skin glows from the force of the hits but his cheeks are round from his smile sweet. A Spanking? You'd like one of those. Maybe you can provoke it from one of your packmates sometime later. You might need a settling after this.

Your brain is a mess of wants and instincts. But a spanking can wait. Yoongi's knot presses just under your pussy and you grind onto it experimentally. Tingles of pleasure filling your whole body. Good. It's so good. You snarl.

“No. No Jk- pup”

You are not paying attention as Jungkook tries to claw his way over to you; laughing, making a game of it. You and Yoongi are not speaking but you are communicating. Every grit of his teeth says mine, and every twitch of his hands on your hips says keep going. You look down at your mate and lick your teeth, polishing your canines as you eye him. The line of his throat. The pinkness of his nose. His chest- everything.

As Yoongi huffs, half fond. Cheeks slowly warm the more your eyes roam, the more you look and hunger. 

It’s not that you’ve never been a sexual creature and it’s not that Yoongi has never seen you want him. But too often have you been like Noodle. Too frequently has he been the steward of your lust, carefully encouraging it and letting you be fickle and safe. Every time you've had sex you've been timid. he’s always letting you know through every breath that you’re not too much and that you can have it in any way that you want.

But now- now you’re eyeing Yoongi like you want to eat him.

Your brain is too syrupy and slow to do more than grind against his knot (like I said, all bark, no bite) your pussy dribbles onto it. The glide of your slick hole so much against such sensitive skin, pressed between your body and his. An omega possessed. An omega on a mission. 

He’s been on the business end of many knots but this- this is different. Your eyes are open hardly blinking, Jungkook’s hands trail up Yoongi’s thigh to his hip.

"You're hiding it-" he whines, bratty. But gets snapped back into the alpha's waiting jaws. More spanks. until someone, Jimin maybe is tugging at Jungkook's cock between his legs while he gets plugged up by Namjoon's knot. Namjoon's the only one out of all of them that can truly distract Jungkook. Can possibly stop him from trying to covet Yoongi.

Yoongi's knot doesn’t belong to him. As his mate you have rights.

You push him back to lie in the nest and Yoongi lets you. It’s instinct to straddle him, to get him under you where he can’t move. Even though you don’t usually fuck like this with you on top. You don’t know why this in-heat version of yourself seems preoccupied with riding or not riding, maybe it’s a control thing or vulnerability.

Your body is unused to the heat, unsure of quite what the edge of want and don’t want to meet. Unsure if you want all the control or the complete lack of it. You are weak to your instincts. Weak, even though you know if you just lied back Yoongi would take care of you.

Your instincts give you neither choice nor reason nor want for anything, anything but this. Hoseok's hands slide up Yoongi's knees, touch your lower back, everything. Everyone everywhere touching both of you. Egging you on with their bare teeth and wildly sweet scents.

The head of Yoongi's cock slides up and through your slick, catching on your hole for a moment before it pops away,

You don’t know who guides Yoongi’s knot to your fluttering hole, only that it’s there. It’s easy to sink back, eyes furrowed as you concentrate on the feeling of getting Yoongi’s knot inside of you, cheeks warm at the eyes of the pack on you.

Beside you Tae paws at Jimin’s knot he makes a nose in his throat, but Tae’s all smiles. “Minnie likes it.” She croons in a singsong tone. Hooking an arm around his waist and sliding her hands under the elastic hem of his boxers to toy with him.

There is breath on the back of your shoulder, condensation turning your skin dewy. A hungry alpha ready to swallow you whole. Looming. You don’t look to see who it is, who's looking over your shoulder watching Yoongi’s face as you ride him.

You have a sinking suspicion it might be Hobi.

You fall into a slow rhythm appreciating the way that it feels, nudging at your entrance. Filling you routine. You’re getting better at this setting the pace on your own. Moving at a steady rhythm. A rhythm that makes you sigh and squeak. Your body feels so far away. The ache in your knees, the soreness in your hole, and the tiredness in you are all impermanent compared to the pleasure.

You focus on the feeling of your hands on his chest and the pleasure that comes with fucking yourself down on his knot. It’s a good knot. Not too big, not too small, just right. Everything about Yoongi is just right for you. You mewl as you speed up your pace. Instincts burning for more more more.

Sweat bleeds down your back and Yoongi’s jaw rolls, unblinking below you. Someone wipes away a bit of drool on your jaw and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Tipping your head back.

“Does it feel good pup, the way his knot feels in your little hole?"

"Not so little anymore," Tae snickers, "she's practically bouncing on it."

Yoongi’s knuckles are white with how hard he holds your hips, doing his best not to guide your rhythm or disrupt it. Someone's hand is in your hair, tugging and tangling with it, pulling you up and down.

Namjoon leans down to whisper in Yoongi’s ear. “Good huh? Pussy fucking you up hyung? Gonna be a little bitch and make a mess in our pup? Gonna put your little knot where you want and breed her?” 

Yoongi lets out an achy moan. And hope that you didn’t hear that. Or feel how it makes him twitch and pulse. Knot seconds from popping. Already mostly popped from before. He’s not going to last. Yoongi knows it will be quick.

"Bet you can feel how I fucked her open for you huh?"

Yoongi does not pause to push Namjoon’s face away as the alpha bites his shoulder- his ear- his everywhere. Namjoon's not nearly as unaffected as he pretends to be but Yoongi is too focused on you.

Yoongi has always been the perfect fit, not quite as long as Hobi or as thick as Jimin or the type of knot that makes you feel it for days after like Tae and Namjoon. It’s a good thing you’re a size queen because now you can fuck yourself down on Yoongi’s knot, regardless of the size it threatens to swell too.

Yoongi’s knot is about as thick around as Namjoon’s cock is normally so you still struggle to go all the way down, but stretching yourself around the wideness is good, feels nice. Sates the fire inside of you. His knot presses all nice and hot snug against that spot inside of you. You babble it, saying how good good good your mate is, how you can feel his cock stretching you out and breeding you. Almost mindless from pleasure.

Almost but not yet.

Yoongi slides his palm from your stomach up to your sternum, under the black shirt you wear, stroking over your skin lazily before his fingers tangle in the material, pulling it. using it to guiding and goad you into fuck him faster. Saying nothing. Eyes on you. Dark and heavy-lidded.

To shut you up (not because he wants you to shut up but because he wants to hold off from cumming for as long as he can). Yoongi gets his feet under him and drives his hips up. Fucking up into you. Faster and faster until you can tell you're almost taking all of it. All of it. As much as you can.

“That’s it, there you go baby. Fuck her like an alpha. She wants to take it, you just have to help make her.”

“Come on hyung, fuck her like you mean it.”

Beside you, Tae's hand works underneath the waistband of Jimin's boxers, a thumb hooked there lazily. Stilling for a second. Her knuckles wrapped around his knot probably. Hobi is tucked along Jin's side, hips stuttering working. Watching you and Yoongi. Namjoon grins, showing his teeth.  

You have almost all of his knot in you now, everything but the widest bit, just a little more, just a little and you’ll have it. You bounce up and down on it experimentally. You grin, very very convinced that you don’t have to wait for Yoongi’s knot to go down to continue.

Your mate's hands circle your wrists, holding them hard, pulling you down hard every time you pick yourself up, trying to keep you stationary. But Yoongi’s needs are very very far away in his mind.

It’s almost better this way, looking down at him, working your body down his knot. Testing the give and breathing through it the way that Namjoon has taught you to breathe through taking his knot. The pack all around, watching you and encouraging you. They're so close, it sort of feels like they're all fucking you this way.

Tae’s fingers dimple in your thighs and Jk rests his head along Yoongi’s tummy so he can watch his knot sink inside of you as a treat when he takes his spanking like a good pup. A strong hand in his hair to keep him from moving forward a few inches to lick. Pout on his face. When your pace stutters, body overtired from heat, Hobi's hand goes under your thigh to help pick you up, taking the weight of your body for you.

You finally get Yoongi’s knot inside of you, but it doesn’t stop there, you put your hands on his chest and pick yourself off of it again. It tugs but slips past the rim of muscle after a second, slick sliding down the big swollen curve of it. It takes some finesse, but your body gives way and his knot is once again hovering just on the precipice.

Then you sit yourself back down.

Jimin’s breathless curse against your throat feels almost guttural. You hardly hear it too focused on fucking Yoongi’s knot like a cock.

 “Fuck, omega's knot fucking is-” 

“It’s hot,” Jin says, leaning down to brush Yoongi’s sweaty bangs from his forehead. “How does it feel honey? Feeling your mate around your knot? All good? All nice and snug?”

“She’s-” Yoongi pants through it breath ragged, close to cumming, knot pulsating. “Warm” his voice is strained and he scrambles to reach for you. Yoongi’s lap, his whole stomach really, is covered in your slick. The slide is almost too slippery. If you weren’t concentrating so hard on keeping rhythm you’d tell him you love him.

“Overwhelming, feels like- feels like- fuck-”

But you know he already knows, can feel it in the way he touches you. The way he looks at you. Everything.

You squirt, wet noisy, little dribbles of cum flicking up across his chest, clamping down around his knot so hard that Yoongi has no choice. Your pace stutters and you sigh. You hardly notice the pleasure rocking through you, hardly notice as you start to tremble. Little ‘hng’ noises pushed from your throat with every sweet jut of Yoongi’s hips. Still fucking his knot all the way in and all the way out.

Yoongi fucks the same way he talks, sweet but firm. He cums that way too. Warm and slow. You feel every syllable and every drop.

But Yoongi has no words for the ecstasy of knotting you. Groaning deep, more guttural, more animal than you’ve ever heard him sound. Cumming, knot popping fully. Finally. Your legs shake and your head drops as it throbs and swells.

You finally stop riding him but he keeps pulling you down at the same second he sits up quick, until he's sitting with you in his lap. Wrapping his arms around you. Whipping your hair from your face, cupping your cheeks, forehead to forehead.

A bit of your squirt drips down the seam of his hip, the place where his thigh and stomach wrinkle. Staining the nest a darker shade of pink.

But there are hands to settle your giggles, his knot pulsates, and you feel wet and warm inside. You ease up and he holds you for a moment. Skin to skin. Breath to breath. Both of you panting through your comedown.

The others fall upon you.

Jin's hand cups your stomach, and Jungkook's teeth drive into Yoongi's shoulder with a quiet yelp and a 'yah jungkookie'. you love how grumbly yoongi gets when he's feeling sensitive but safe.

Namjoon tilts your chin up and kisses you, messy and filthy. When you part you feel dizzy from lack of oxygen. You can't yet register that you're panting, breathing heavily. Still sort of cumming. One orgasm blends into another. Having them around while Yoongi’s inside of you is so much. Good, but a lot as Tae strokes down your spine.

“Did good alpha?” You ask Namjoon.

“Did so well, so so so well taking Yoongi’s first knot.” Now he'll understand how possessive we can get of you. Now he'll get it.

Yoongi ignores him, but around you, the air is thick with the scent of the pack's pleasure. Hoseok ruffles Yoongi's hair than yours, you nuzzle into his wrist. Tae's hands are hungry, and exploratory.

(They watched you through all of this but never once did you wonder if you were pretty, never once did you worry about how it looked, if it was enough. There is a simple love that's here. A simple love between all of you. Through your heat- you've never once been self-conscious. With Yoongi’s knot snug in your pussy, and everyone praising you, you can't find it in yourself to be nervous or worried or feel anything but bliss).

There are familiar hands everywhere- reaching down, feeling where you and Yoongi are connected. The wet slick glide of an omega properly seated on a knot. Tae’s lips pressed against your tit while her delicate fingers paw at your pussy, not a kiss, not a suck, but a pout.

You let her until Yoongi hums, overwhelmed, and then lean down to bite her. Popping back, licking your teeth, echoing a soft "sorry" when you've realized what you've done.

Yoongi shivers as Jin runs a hand up and down his stomach, knuckles brushing yours. Namjoon crowds in behind you. Pushing you both down into the nest. His pack alpha herding tendencies are at play but he’s a warm and reassuring presence behind you. They all settle in to cuddle you and keep both of you safe until Yoongi’s knot goes down long enough to make sure that you’ve been adequately bred. 

Everyone's sort of lying on top of each other. Namjoon behind you, Jin behind Yoongi, Hobi trying and sort of succeeding in squirming his way in between Jin and Yoongi. the pack are noisy. but you sort of love the noise.

"You're pinching my skin hyung." "Wait wait wait, this will be more comfortable." "Namjoon she needs room to like-breathe." "Ow my knee like- cannot stay in this position." "Jungkook!"

The older omega lets Hobi muscle his way in. Pressing a kiss and a nibble to the back of his neck in admonishment. Jungkook sprawls across all of your stomachs and Tae rings the top and Jimin the bottom, guarding you and Yoongi against the door. Classic alpha.

Tae runs her hands over your hair, scratching at your scalp with her long fingernail. You push into her touch like a cat. She does it to you, then Yoongi. Yoongi’s hands skim up and down your hips and he’s breathing heavy.

“Love you,” he says.

he closes his eyes first but you just watch him. A chorus of voices join but you lean down, pecking him over his eyelids. Covering his body with yours. He doesn’t need to worry about anything.

Yoongi wraps his arms around you. Mumbling something into your ear quiet enough that the rest of the pack doesn’t hear. But let it remain a mystery. Let it remain for just you and him.

You rest and cuddle. And Yoongi keeps twitching inside of you. Every time you think that he’s done and that his cock can’t possibly give you anymore he starts to twitch again. Cuming just a little bit more.

It almost feels like Namjoon, who cum's a proportional amount to the size of his cock. Yoongi never normally cums this much, but you can't say you're complaining. One hand resting protectively over your tummy.

You hear Jin's familiar 'tsk' and fingers are at your hole. They guide a bit of spend back up into it. But your eyes are already closed.

You were already tired before and your heat still rages. It's not fire anymore. Something in you satiated. It's not a raging inferno but the kind of warmth that glows from coals, that sizzles on the edge of your skin, like deep-seated honeying of suns and far away stars teeming with wishes and life-giving warmth.

Yoongi decides that he wouldn’t mind doing this, just when you go into heat. He’ll get tests done later; Namjoon will drag him to the hospital after this week to take his blood and measure his hormones.

Dr.Pearl and another beta specialist will come to the conclusion that it’s both your mating mark and your slick that caused a momentarily biological shift that’s temporary at best and a one-off probably (it won’t be a one-off, Yoongi will grow a knot through every one of your heats after this). They’ll prescribe Yoongi less of your slick and a bit of distance from your scent during your pre-heat (both professional opinions that Yoongi will opt to ignore because seriously what the fuck?)

For now, you settle down atop him, keeping his knot safe inside, and go to sleep. Not before feeling each one of your packmates press a kiss to the place between your shoulder blades. Surprisingly sensitive, surprisingly ticklish. You feel it all. The brush of Hobi’s nose, the skim of Tae’s long hair. The plush feeling of Jimin's lips more like petals than skin. The brush of Jin and Namjoon’s stubble. The nibble of Jungkook's teeth.

Yoongi’s lips remain planted to your forehead, he sleeps that way through the rest of the afternoon. The little huffs of his breath tickle your baby hairs, and you can’t say that you mind.

Being the lowest member in the pack’s hierarchy means different things for each pack. Especially with two older omega’s in heat, and you below them in the hierarchy.

As the days drag on, you feel like a bit of a chew toy (not that you’re complaining).

As the lowest packmate in the hierarchy, you bear the brunt of it when their instincts shift from hungry to nesty. The breeding’s mostly done (mostly, but not quite) now is time for nesting, for preparing. It takes time for seed to take. That time that you spend cuddled close. Safe between Jin and Jungkook. Walled in on either side, safely tucked between their chests. Both of their heartbeats beat through either ear.

At least until you wake up.

You omega’s are a conspiratory little bunch. The nest is deep and colorful with many spots to hide. You do not try to hide from Jinnie or Jungkook, there is no need to. the alpha’s are who you hide from, peaking over the edge of an inner nest, the walls built up a bit like an igloo. The three of you playing a pretend game of hide and seek.

Hiding from them and the pleasure that they give you. Because they want to get in the way of all your fun.

It’s not getting in the way of the fun so much as it’s partaking in it, sticking their knots where you need them- but where is the fun in simply fucking? Foreplay is where all the fun happens anyway. Bouncing on a knot can get so boring.

Unless it’s Yoongi’s knot of course. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of that. His refractory period is a lot longer than the other alphas, even Namjoon who tends to knot for a good 30 minutes. You’ve had him 4? Maybe 5 times since the first? And now he slumbers, hips ringed with hickeys, cock lying limp and pretty pink against his stomach, utterly spent.

You’d ridden Yoongi until he was trembling, until his breath came out as gasps and not growls. Until his knot couldn’t even pop anymore and Namjoon had quite literally scruffed you to get you off of him. Too sensitive for anymore. Twitching duly when you’d popped off for the final time, a glob of cum leaking down your hole to your other one.

And yet, you could tell by the smell of him that Yoongi was drowning in ecstasy, nothing about his scent in pain or discomfort. You did a good job. Your pack had told you, you did.

But still, your mate needs his rest, in the meantime, the omegas can play.

The morning is thick and heavy, sunlight slow moving like honey when the alpha’s start to wake to the sound of soft breathy moans. the alpha's don’t immediately register that none of them are awake and that it’s purely omegan whines and whimpers that coat the air in the sound and smell of sweet pleasure.

Honey, cake, and cream.

Jungkook giggles softly, looking down and you can’t help but smile too- dopey. Fucked out. Fucked dumb. They’re not exactly surprised that you’ve gone non-verbal. Babbling only for Tae and Yoongi when they seriously prod you for a question.

This is just another spike of your heat only… you didn’t bother to wake your alpha’s up for it. You don’t really need your alpha’s knot when Koo is so soft and when Jinnie is- honestly very big for an omega, perfect enough for a bit of comfort in your hole.

But putting the pack omega’s cock all up inside you would not be good. You want to be good for Jungkook, your nestmate who has bitten you so thoroughly your skin aches from his teeth. From your chest to your shoulders and neck. To your hips and backside. Everywhere he’s bitten you up. So that anyone who sees you will know.

The three of you giggle and rub. What started as cuddling and a bit of grinding has become something different.

You and Jungkook hover above Jin lying down, Jungkook teased him a little bit ago for his grandpa's behavior, for not wanting to move and being too cozy. His omega cock stands hard and proud. Not terribly big, but not as small as Jungkook either. You and Jungkook seem not to notice the difference.

You and Jungkook sit perched above Seokjin, the pack omega’s hands roaming without care. His face is pink and his eyes are half closed, sleepy, and happy to let you and Jungkook take what you need.

At least Jin’s heat is near ending. Your and Jungkook’s roar in the meantime. You grind into each other, tummy to tummy, Jin below the two of you left to lazily rock up into the drippy sweet cleft between your pussy and Jungkook’s cock. It’s all very slick as you move against each other. Rubbing and grinding and giggling.

Hoseok blinks awake in the nest, picking himself up with a jerk.

A combination of your slick soaks Jin’s lap, and turns the grind sudsy, almost soapy as he slides up through your pussy kissing Jungkook’s cock. Omega’s do love to scent and rub and grind; you’re doing some mixture of the two. Not scissoring, but it would be scissoring if Jungkook had a pussy instead of the little nub he calls his cock. Jungkook reaches down, tapping his cock against your clit. You purr and squeak at it.

You’re… a bit of a mess, after having been fucked by every available alpha and Yoongi so hard like that earlier- your hole is a bit of a wreck, you're leaking slick and globs of alpha cum that Jin and Jungkook are only too possessive over. Pink when Jungkook reaches down to part your pussy with his hands and sees your wrecked entrance. He's too happy to smear it all over.

You can hardly blame Koo for his fascination, dragging his own little cock and forth between the mess. Putting his cock in (not that you can even close around it, small as Jungkook is) just to feel the heat of your body and what the alpha’s did to you.

It’s a good thing that most of Jungkook’s knot collection is locked safely away in the closet. Otherwise he might be tempted to see if you can take the largest one. The one that’s larger even than Namjoon that Jungkook's only managed to take on occasion when the pack feels like devoting multiple days into opening him up. The one that often leads to multiple days of aftercare because it actually is a little medically questionable for Jungkook to take.

Jungkook might have a bit of a thing for it; a size kink. thats never more apparent than when you're close. when he puts his hands around your waist and his hands almost meet. Watching you take things that look too big, that fuck you dumb like this is jungkook's favorite.

Now that the alphas aren’t making him feel so…so omegan, so fucked out. He’s sorry he missed most of it. He wants to see it again, wants to watch you get fucked open on namjoon's cock.

Jimin lifts his head from the nest, doing a double take and cursing when he realizes that it's not a wet dream just- just real. Namjoon rubs a hand across his jaw, sitting up on his knees in the half-darkness. Clearly he's been awake for a while. His hand goes ridged on Namjoon’s wrist but the pack alpha doesn't look down at him- he doesn't tear his eyes away from you three.

Namjoon’s cock presses up between his boxers, put on for modesty- and because normally omega’s in heat can’t be trusted not to get a little handsy. Hard, insistent. Now, Namjoon wishes that you'd get a little handsy. That would be better than just watching.

“You didn’t?…” he asks, trailing off. Namjoon swallows hard shaking his head. Namjoon already has his hand hooked into Hobi's collar, keeping him in place. Keeping him from interfering. Hobi lets out a lupine whimper. More a puppy than a man.

“Jin asked me not to intervene.”

The pack alpha’s restraint is legendary, especially when Jin giggles at the way you’re bouncing or trying to bounce on Jungkook’s cock. The pack omega tuts, and slips in besides Jungkook, half pushing him out of the way. Jimin starts, but there’s no reason to.

After fucking Namjoon there is more than enough room in your pussy.

The sight of you and Jungkook rubbing your used holes together is something that should honestly be recorded for the communal pack spank bank. The three of you pink-cheeked and healthy, and-

Knocked up. The three of you look like you’ve just been knocked up even though they know you haven't. Your skin glows healthy, your bodies supple and fed. Relaxed and loopy, showing the signs of the care the pack have lavished you with.

Jinnie's glowing too- skin smooth and blemishless, lips puffy and glossy from being kissed so much (as they should be). Although his glow is softer and less harsh. Jin’s heat is already ending, just another ten or so hours now. The fever quiets to a soft hush, a gentle need instead of a rabid one.

Was it the pack omega that dragged you and Jungkook to get off on top of him? It won’t be long now. Namjoon can tell you’re both close to cumming from the way you're shaking and the way Jungkook's breathing.

The slick glossy look of your thighs, your hiccups, the sight of Jin’s cock pressing between your slick folds, peaking out, rubbing against your clit, and the head of Jungkook’s little cock. The pack omega’s hands are hungry twitching as jin cranes back and inarticulately tucks his hands into both your holes. stroking both of them. Jin’s cheeks look round, pouting as he concentrates.

“Want pups, my pups, gimme,” you and Jungkook giggle, pressing sloppy kisses to each other’s mouths, Jinnie’s too- although the pack omega does little but pout and rock into the warmth. Into the wet.

The alpha’s watch and it’s torturous to keep themselves back. But they're good alpha's. When your and Jungkook's rocking reaches a fever's pitch and then quiets. Trembling and overwhelmed. Clinging to each other, threatening to topple.

When you’re finished there is more than one available knot, hard and aching, ready to sit on.

~-~

That’s not the last time that Jungkook seeks you out during his heat. far from it.

You’re not surprised that both his and yours have lasted longer than Jin’s (probably by a day or so). Your and his hormones spike and feed off each other, your heat spikes syncing until your packmates have to handle both of you at once. Your hand remains knotted with his, whining every time one of your alphas tries to cajole you gently away from him. Unwilling to be parted from him during knotting for comfort.

The lulls between Jin’s heat spikes get longer and longer while yours and Jungkook’s remain the same. Jungkook’s even speed up a little if anything.  

Jungkook loves going into heat with you- he really does, it feels like he’s always reaching, always craning his neck to watch you. The tender nape of his neck is bruised from the number of times that the alphas have had to scruff him docile. All of him feels Bitten and nibbled at every available opportunity.

Really, Jungkook's sort of in heaven.

The alphas never throw him around the same way they do when he's in heat. They don’t treat him like he’s delicate, like he’s precious, especially with you around to dote on and fuss with. You take the brunt of Jin’s protective instinct too.

Jungkook can be as bratty as he wants, bite whichever alpha he wants, and chirp as long as he needs to. Outside of heat they rarely ever hold him down and make him take it. They always hold back. Only in heat at his most vulnerable do the alphas really stop treating him like he's fragile.

He likes pushing their buttons and making them bite. Now, Jungkook does it because he can't stand it.

Cute aggression? It must be cute aggression.

He wants to squeeze and nibble and wreck you, Watching as jimin tucks his face into your neck as his knot twitches, your entrances stretched tight around it and your legs wide open so that Yoongi can gift tortuously small touches to your clit, all but torturing it as you seem to squirt and squirt and squirt.

So much until you’re dripping around the hollow of his wrist. Your petal pink lips parted, ready for a nibble. He'd barely satiated his desire to mark you up earlier. The haze of hormones is thicker than smoke in the air, turning his brain mushy as he listens to Yoongi beg.

“One more, just one more for me. You made me cum until I couldn’t anymore so now it’s your turn.”

You sob, but thats not a no. Your knees get brought up. Cute, plush, like a fucking stuffed animal. Jungkook once again, gets the inexplicable urge to squeeze you.

The alpha's have you both pressed chest to chest. Underneath you, Jimin continues to drive his cock in smooth efficient bunches, a knot already popped inside. You'd asked him to be mean with it and sob you do. Begging and pleading for more more more at the same time you say you can't take another orgasam.

Jungkook remains above you on his hands and knees. Namjoon lies along Jungkook's spine. Punching a groan from Jungkook’s chest with every impossibly long and thick drag of his cock. Making the omega feel all of it.

A fresh wave of your slick squirts against jungkook's chest and Jungkook's arms buckle. He sort of falls half on top of you. Yoongi hums and puts Jungkook back on his hands and knees so that he can keep touching your pussy. Jungkook rests his body against Yoongi's arm to keep himself up. Mouth open.

Jungkook thinks he might imagine it. He must, because he can feel Namjoon’s cock pressing against his tummy, feel it as the bulge kisses your skin the give of your belly button.

Your giggle feels like a punch to his gut. As your hand slides up his slick stomach to palm at the belly bulge, touch him the same way he touched Namjoon's cock through you. He loves it. He presses his forehead against yours, your eyes just as dilated and as gone as his. Rubbing his face against yours in a half kiss- half scent mark.

There's a lot of squirting, mostly from you. Jungkook likes watching you squirt. It's so pretty.

Jimin yanks his knot out of your hole, a move that he wouldn’t be able to pull if you hadn’t been knotted by Namjoon recently. Perhaps inspired by watching you knotfuck Yoongi. Pulling at you so hard that it honestly to god looks like it hurts, it looks mean. It makes you squirt violently again against Jungkook's straining abdominal muscles.

Jungkook bites your cheek. Hmm, squishy.

He bites the other side, and it blooms under his teeth.

You tremble and almost seem to pass out of a second. And then- really do pass out once Namjoon pulls back, reaches around Jungkook, and says something to Yoongi, who pulls his fingers away from your clit, you jerk trying to chase the pleasure. Only to run headlong into Namjoon’s hand, landing hard over your clit.

You gush through Namjoon’s fingers, soaking the place where he and Jungkook join. At the same moment Namjoon shoves his slick-coated knot into Jungkook’s hole.  

Your head lols back against Jimin's shoulder and you let out a single broken whimper. they're pushing you to your breaking point. (But you have a gut feeling that once you break and they put back together, you'll finally feel whole).

Across the nest, Jin perks up a little horrified. He's being fussed over by Tae and Hobi, happily doted upon while Hobi's knot rests safe inside. knot warming. Comforting Jin through the end of his heat. Hobi turns and Tae starts to get up to intervene but then- 

Jungkook giggles at your sobs, lapping at your tears. Clenching wildly and grinding back against Namjoon’s knot, the pack alpha moves him so that Jungkook can press his lips to your slack mouth.

You blink, dazed, look up at him.

“Meanie Joonie” Jungkook giggles, the omegaspace haze so thick he can hardly string a coherent sentence together. “Meanie Minnie! Meanie Yoonie! Again! Wanna see!” Jungkook moves, trying to get his hand in between your legs to spank your clit again, but his swats don’t do anything, too gentle.

Jungkook is literally getting the daylights fucked out of him right now, he hardly has the energy to lift his own head, let alone spank your pussy the way he wants.

oh, after this heat, after this, he's going to have so much fun figuring out how much you can take.

Yoongi's teeth look incredibly sharp, a little feral at being asked. But Jimin nods and fuckes his knot out of you and Yoongi spanks your clit again. You've never squirted so many times in a row but you leak like a faucet now.

The next flood of your slick lands on Jungkook’s cock. Jutting against your stomach with the force of Namjoon’s thrusts. He giggles again. Shifting closer away from Namjoon- hissing at the tension around his knot. So that Jungkook can press your slick stained and swollen tummies together better.

When he cums too seconds later, from another brutal press of Namjoon’s knot to his prostate and a mean pinch to the head of his cock- he giggles and uses his hand to spread his spend over your stomach.

You’re already lost to exhaustion. But Jungkook pecks your nose, tucks his face under your throat, and goes right to sleep. 

When Jungkook wakes, he's still like that. He's not being filled, and things are calmer.

The freshly fallen night is a hush on the edge of the nest, There is a different need coursing through him. A different sort of wanting. A physical hunger. His body is exhausted, sore, and bitten.

Your chest smells like Tae's lipstick, like her kisses. Jungkook’s pretty pretty pretty alpha, the prettiest alpha that is on the other side of the nest, talking with Jin and sharing soft kisses. She must have come over earlier to check on you, must have kissed you here.

Jungkook is dimly aware of her soft words, “Do you want a knot Jinnie? Some food? Some water? A cloth? How are you feeling? Does anywhere ache my love?”

Jin's answering hum is exhausted but happy. After a second he quietly admits, “My thighs hurt.”

Yoongi is summoned, Hobi too. To squeeze and help relax the pack omega. The sound of his squeaky laugh and shy moan a welcome return.  

Jungkook dozes while you and Jinnie rest, his body over your body, lined up chest to chest, nuzzling first at your throat and then lower when Jungkook's instincts tug at him. The pack is not as worried about him being snappy. They've long since decided that whatever happened at the beginning of the heat was just that- an anomaly at the beginning. Both of your instincts settling.

But now, Jungkook crouches over you like an alpha might. Protective.

Possessive.

There is something syrupy sweet in the air, just below your skin. Jungkook couldn’t smell it until he started nosing at your throat, but now he can. Something laces through your veins, something that smells divine, something that he can almost taste, like sugar only sweeter.

He begins to move lower.

Your breasts smell like Tae, like alpha, they’ve been given so much attention, teeth marks and bruises line your areolas, Tae has sucked your nipples pink and sensitive and stiff puffy already. Imprints of Jungkook’s pretty alpha and her pretty teeth stay there like a shadow, a bruise. There is a word you call her, 'mommy.' He likes it when you call her that. It has Jungkook’s pretty alpha smelling muskier and impossibly prettier.

Jungkook’s mouth is perilously empty, it's starting to bother him. Jungkook lips his lips. Dry.

Her voice comes distant now, your hands push at Jungkook’s shoulders when he noses, but only briefly before Jungkook’s pretty alpha tuts, holding you still and keeping you from squirming as he noses, pushing through your sweet skin, searching for something. Girl omega’s are so soft. So soft everywhere.

Jungkook loves it. Is this Omegaspace? Or pupspace? Or some combination of the two.

Something starts squirming underneath him, a chest rising and falling, a heartbeat beating rabbit prey fast. But the squirming stops as quickly as it begins. Jungkook's pretty alpha looms closer, coming to see what you're fussing for and cooing at your quiet squeaks and chirps.

Tae's wrist is close, close to Jungkook's teeth as she grabs your wrist and holds you steady. Restraining you gently. “Let Jungkook have at you pup, he’s been a very good omega, don’t you want to help soothe him?”

Of course, Tae does not notice that Jungkook's going after something new, and does not notice that this isn't normal soothing. Sucking at your chest is her favorite thing. She doesn't think anything strange of Jungkook's hungry licking and desperate sucking.

There is some sweet whining on the edge of Jungkook’s senses. Independent of the sweetness beneath his nose, the warmth reaches his lips and he opens his mouth to suck. His breath going ragged.

Closer, closer still, warm and soft against his face, like a nest made flesh, like Jungkook’s nest in one person.

Jungkook sucks at your chest, lips pressing once they find the source of it- of that smell. Your nipple on the roof of his mouth is exactly what he'd been missing. Comforting. You are so soft, so soothing. He likes it. There is no fire from heat with you here at his front and yet, Jungkook still burns. The sweet smell under your skin is closer this way. Jungkook needs it, needs you like water. Clinging.

His taste buds spark with something, just a little at first then more the more that he sucks. Jungkook makes a soft sound and Tae just shushes him. Alpha, he wants to speak, alpha found it! His squishy Omegaspace brain wants to tell Tae. The urge to show and tell is quickly overridden by the need for more.

It's so sweet. So fatty that Jungkook's head spins. Mouth filling with liquid that tastes like you, but a bit like Jinnie too.

You taste Milky.  

Jungkook's eyebrows come together and Tae teases, her fingers running against his cheek slowly filling. throat bobbing Her voice sounds like it does when she's grinning. Tae can be forgiven for not immediately realizing what’s happening because Jungkook is swallowing it down before any of it has a chance to make it to open air, gasping and sucking wildly. Hungry.

"Oh, tasting something good bunny?" Jungkook's sure she must be smiling even though his eyes are still closed. Still half asleep but waking up.

A little more, something hot and sweet fills his mouth, and Jungkook sucks it all down, more with every tight press of his lips. Your squirming stops and you sigh, going rim rod straight for a second and then relaxing.

You're staring up at Tae all dazed and cute, letting out sweet babbles of "mommy mommy-alpha mommy please." Your toes curling in the nest. But who knows what you're asking for.

tae reaches down and puts her fingers in your mouth, giving you something to suck at, quieting your desperate whimpers.

Jungkook doesn't like it, doesn't like her touching you. this milk is his- it belongs to him. The milk sweet and fatty fills his mouth, slowly at first, then more. You stop squirming below him, sighing in relief body going slack. Jungkook's arms go firm around your waist, holding you still, holding you close.

It's good, yummy even. Jungkook sucks more and more and more without really understanding. His heat-fried brain not sorting through the facts of the situation.

"Does Jungkook feel good little pup? Is he making you feel all tingly?" Tae teases, softly now, like she's conscious of the idea of waking everyone else up. She leans down crouching over to nip at your throat. Settling you. But there's nothing to settle, your head lol's to the side, staring blankly ahead. Whimpering. drooling around tae's fingers, she takes them out and slips them down your throat. stroking gently.

"Hopefully he doesn't bite you too sensitive because it's my turn once he's done, gonna squirm and cry for me gonna-" Tae breaks off, inhaling jagged.

Jungkook's tongue rolls against your nipple, keeping a small dribble from slipping down your body. Lips parted in ecstasy, a single drop drips from his tongue onto your skin, just a little.

But it's enough.

There is something pearly, dribbled down around your sternum. Almost translucent, but still white and cloudy.

Tae blinks like she can't really believe it.

Then she growls, loud, shocked. violent enough to wake the others. Whereas before she'd been stroking through Jungkook's hair, now her hand goes vicelike and tries to pull him off. Jungkook whines and squirms, unwilling to be parted from you until Tae growls again in warning.

Namjoon picks up his head from the nest at the sound. Jin blinks awake against his throat and Yoongi shifts and shuffles awake. Rubbing his eyes with a closed fist when he sits up.

When Tae finally succeeds in pulling him off of you, he looks almost hurt, pouting up at her. Tae's gaze eviscerates him. Their eyes narrow at the spill of it, the glimmer of milk on his lips. A bit of milk dribbles down Jungkook's cheek. Traveling down his collar bones to his pectorals and abs, gathering in his belly button, in the little furrow of skin between his lap and tummy.

Tae's finger gathers it on her fingertip and guides it back up to Jungkook's mouth, a breathless growl. Incredulous, near worshiping.

"Messy puppy."

How many more biological surprises could the pack possibly have in store for them? They're a little too tired to be particularly alarmed, and yet, they drag their bodies over. To make sure, to see.

To taste.

Hoseok hangs his head, his whine supine. "Jesus fucking Christ, you-" Namjoon looks away then looks back again. Like he can't quite bring himself to watch and can't quite tear his gaze away.

“I’ve only just gotten used to the idea of Yoongi knotting and now-"

Jin wordlessly rubs a hand over his face, Jimin doesn't say anything, trying to muscle Yoongi out of the way, looking down at you with something indescribable, at Jimin's movement, Namjoon's hands go to your elbow, your wrist, and Jin snaps.

"No, everyone behave. She is not a chew toy."

Everyone goes quiet, admonished. Tae continues to hold you, still looking down, and Jin realizes that if he's not careful, everyone is going to snap. Tae is going to snap. He can see it in the tremble of her body, the curl of her teeth over her lip, her control is seconds from snapping. Her scent spikes climbing higher and higher, almost smelling like she's in rut.

but you're his pup. jin bends under the force of his instincts, checking on your first. Jin leans over you, brushing the hair out of your eyes, and revealing your glassy fuzzy gaze.

"Daddy?" you ask, confused. Jin hasn't heard that name in a little while, not that he's complaining.

"Sweet little puppy, my sweet little pup, are you alright, is it too much?"

Your hand's press and release in the nest. "No just- just hurts- aches, Koo.” Your eyelashes flutter, “Koo makes it better.”

Jungkook is a possessive little thing, hisses and splutters and clings to your front. even as yoongi and namjoon try to get him off of you You squirm looking up at Tae and Yoongi and Jin, the haze cuts for a moment and they recognize your franticness as more than just overstimulation.

"Do you want us to get Jungkook off of you?" Yoongi asks, voice husky. Namjoon holds Jungkook prepared to wrench him off of you if you say so. Jungkook isn't in his right mind, but Yoongi can't help but watch as he sucks like a man starved, throat bobbing with every swallow. His cheeks warm and round-looking. Oh, oh this is-

Yoongi is getting hard. The skin around his new knot tugging. He really really thought that after this morning when you rode him like your life depended on it- that would have been that.

You nod then shake your head. "Want Mommy to choose- want Tae-tae."

Namjoon uses the hand in Jungkook’s hair to pick him up off of you for a second. Jin has to pinch the back of his neck to get his teeth to release. Your nipple is pink and bitten when his mouth finally leaves you.

They watch for a second, but it barely takes a moment before the milk is back, dribbling out, trailing down the curve of your breast. Jungkook is still half asleep. Shifting downward happily when he realizes the pack don’t mind it if he licks up whats spilled. Bending down to lap up what’s trailed down to your tummy and navel.

Tae's nostrils flare and her eyes are all pupil, dark and brown, and glassy. Yoongi jogs her out of her reverie.

"Tae." he asks, an edge of dominance to his voice that wouldn't have sounded the same yesterday, not before Yoongi had a knot. Yoongi shakes his head, wordlessly. And he sees Tae return to herself, just a little.

You squirm under Jungkook. Upset, lower lip wobbling. "No, I want, want Koo- it- it aches-" Tears bead at the edge of your eyes and Yoongi is not thinking, not truly, when he reaches down to feel.

You whine as Yoongi toys with your chest, fingers rubbing gently over your wet peaks, rolling them until more milk beads. Mesmerized. Slowly at first and then more aggressively, tugging at them until your back arches.

"Tae," Namjoon's voice is stressed, Jimin shuffles up beside her, offering a comforting touch on her shoulder. "Tae" Namjoon repeats, a bit more command in his voice, her gaze jerks up in his direction.

"Yes"

"Can you handle this without going into rut?"

"Yes alpha." Namjoon watches her for a second longer. Judging the haze in her eyes, and then tips his head down. Permission. But Namjoon is nearby, Namjoon is watchful and wont let any of them go too far.

It’s gentle- how the alphas manhandle you, placing you square in Namjoon's lap, reclining there for your mommy to have her turn. He can hold your wrists this way, you want to squirm, need to squirm. The ache is overwhelming. You just want to full feeling to end. Jungkook was so close to making it go away.

“Be still little treasure, sweet sweet pup, let Taetae have what’s hers.”

Jungkook tries to go back. But Tae doesn't let him, muscling him out of the way until she growls and nips. Speaking with snarls and whines and not with words. But Jungkook is but a pup beneath Tae's play wrestling. She's always been stronger than him and after a brief scuffle of push and pull, he whines. Resting his head on your shoulder.

Tae can hardly think through it. Her pup, her sweet little pup, chest swelling from her attention. Was it her sucking that did this? Was it her sucking that tugged your biological impulse until it shifted into real change?

You are so perfect she could cry, she could knot the air with how horny it makes her.

Tae looks at your face, your tears spill down your cheeks and your voice cracks, "Mommy?” you think if Tae checks, if she makes sure that you’re okay, everything will be fine.

Tae lowers herself gently over you, hair tickling your skin, and connects her mouth to your chest.

Tae is immediately gone, milk filling her mouth that tastes like ambrosia, like the heavens made liquid, like home. she grinds her popped knot against the nest as she sucks and sucks and sucks. immune to your squealing. Hand reaching down to paw uncaring of your overstimulation. You're as wet between your legs as you are on your chest. Her brain is a mess of more and more and more.

For a second, Tae's alpha convinces her that she's actually done it, she's actually pupped you. Why else would you be sweetening so much? Why else would you be like this, sweet and swollen on her tongue.

You're getting slick all over the nest again, Tae can feel slick gathering around her wrist, fingers losing their concentration, so focused on getting more milk in her mouth, sucking that she forgets to finger you properly. Your chest is so sensitive you feel like you could scream. Every suck makes you sob in overstimulation.

Above you, Yoongi curses.

Each packmate must have their turn with you, once they all rouse and confusion quickly melts away into downright giddiness. It's dizzying, your eyes are closed half the time, and the other half you're not sure you can make sense of what's infront of you either.

Brain settling into that place where everything feels good, where nothing matters but the pleasure and the soft praises falling from their mouths. Namjoon muscles Tae out of the way for a taste after she's turned slack-jawed and milk-drunk. And his spiky head pressed against your skin makes you feel- makes you-

Obey obey obey. You lose track of what’s happening, but your pack does give you what you want, what your body needs. You don’t have to squirm too much before someone, one of your alpha’s or is it Yoongi? Shuffling between your legs to bury his head in your chest.

Having them feed from you is a flurry of sensations. They bury their faces in your chest, hair tickles skin, stubble pressing. Someone giggles, Tae maybe. She presses a kiss to your button mouth. Eyes furrowed as you cry and cry and cry.

You don’t understand why you’re crying, why you’re overwhelmed. But you don’t need to think too hard about it or anything. Any needs that you do have are taken care of.

The pack always know what you need, that you need to feel steady, held and kept. the second you start to push. They restrain you.

Why would you even need a breeding bench when you have your packmates to keep you still? There are hands holding you down everywhere, your wrists, your ankles. Your knees. You push against their touch just to feel them put you in your place.

And as much as you struggle to admit it, you do feel better, and less tense. Less full. Less like a rubber band poised to snap when they pull back.

You cum like that, fingers in your pussy, mouth around your nipple. You don't know how much you have or how much milk they're taking from you but it's enough to leave the alpha's milk drunk and dopey. Even Jinnie is a little dazed from it when he has his turn.

It shouldn't surprise you that Yoongi is the gentlest, pushing Namjoon away after you've come, kissing him, cursing low at the taste in his mouth.

"Really hyung, your mate, fuck-"

"Fuck." Yoongi agrees. Nosing at your chest before he latches, lips sucking your nipple into his tongue, waiting for that first spark. And oh- oh- drinking from you feels like cuddling. You could call him a sap and you'd be right but there's something so instinctual about it. He knots and you give milk. Round and round your instincts go on the merry-go-round until both of you get off.

Who knows maybe your body stopped and waited to make the shift until Yoongi's did.

You only really squirm when Jin guides Hoseok down. He's blushy and tries to pull back, But the pack omega doesn’t take his shyness for an answer without a no. All pups need to eat, all pups need to get their fill. Your milk smells so sweet, so filling. Lifeblood and love and satisfaction made sustenance. Your body wouldn’t be milking up so nicely if it wasn’t for your alpha’s. They should taste the result of their efforts.

Hoseok only lets himself take one mouthful, shivers rising up and down his body before he moves aside and lets Jimin have a taste.

Jimin- who almost immediately tries to bite and snarl. Nipping at your skin when tae jerks him away from you by his hair maw open. He's barely had a sit but that's enough for Jimin to turn feral. Immediately straining, immediately pulled in your direction. A dark purple bruise is already forming around your nipple. Too rough, Jin fusses, pulling a blanket over to you, building a nest around your body.

"No Jiminie- bad!"

Namjoon takes Jimin from Tae. The alpha snarls and splutters but whines when Namjoon snaps at his throat.

You are not lucid, not really. Eyes closed and reaching for your packmates. Someone touches you, hands frantically checking your body- but you want to tell them that Jiminie really- he just got a little teethie. It's okay. You're fine!

Tae bends to kiss it better. They guard you while the sound of snarls sound from the other side of the nest. Namjoon dealing with Jimin. They guard you. Their sweet milky pup, who could possibly be more precious?

After Yoongi has another turn, you decide dimly that it's a good thing, your body moving the edge of its tolerance and doing this. Lactating. Swelling with milk. Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've gone into heat.

After a few minutes, the bellies of your pack are warm nourished, and full. It’s okay, you can sit here like this, open and still for each of them to take a taste. Sucking your nipples pink and puffy.

“Is it permanent?” Jungkook slurs when he’s woken up a bit, yawning until his jaw pops, milk-drunk and sleepy. Nuzzling into your shoulder while Jimin gives you so much attention that you’re squirming (this time wearing Namjoon’s collar since someone needed to hold onto him and keep him from biting).

His ass glows where he sprawls and every time he so much as threatens to growl Namjoon leans over and pinches his sore behind. A warning that everything, all that sweet sweet milk in his tummy. Belongs to Alpha. Jimin can only have it if he's good.

“Is it gonna be like this all the time?"

There is a computer-cracking light on the edge of the nest, a square of light that Namjoon clicks through. Licking his lips again, although your milk no longer coats them. He brought it out earlier when Jin had questions about Yoongi, but now he’s glad to have close access to it.

“It’s fairly common with female omega’s, something about the extra glands and phantom pregnancies.” Namjoon’s voice has gone from hoarse to strong. Your milk on his throat.

Namjoon looks at you, then blushes and looks away.

You don’t know if you’ve ever made Namjoon blush like that. You still lay prone, blinking up at Tae. Wordless. Your brain is small under the feeling of so much attention. A tension in you is released easily. 

Jin gets up from the nest, so quick that he goes dizzy, he’s wearing boxers now, boxers, and a big shirt. Jin too had tasted you. A few swallows. Good, it tasted so good. But your head lolls in the nest to the side, letting out little shallow breaths as Jimin sucks at your chest, your other breast still swollen looking.

Oh, Jin's little pup. You're being so good.

Jin’s instincts bear down on him. An impressive weight that makes him buckle. “I need to go cook something. If everyone's going to eat but her- that’s- I-” Jin huffs and makes to leave the nest in a huff. determined and not the least bit wobbly.

Hoseok trails after. Lips glossy from milk, too flushed to think straight, tripping on the edge of the nest and hitting the door on the way out. Embarrassed a little- but then again everyone is paying attention to you so it goes without teasing.

Huh, the pack omega is leaving the nest. Does that mean the heat is over?

No not quite, you and Jungkook still burn with fever. It's just Jin's heat that's ended. Who knows, maybe one sip of your milk had his body reacting, reassuring him that the work is done, at least one omega got pupped during this heat (you certainly did not get pupped, the contraceptive did its duty, but your confused body has Jin's confused as well).

Although you squirmed initially, the fact of the matter is that once everyone's had a sip, your nipple sucked hard and glossy- it’s a little hard not to need it. The release of pressure, the tension. Your body makes more the more they suck.

You try to enjoy breakfast once Jin's made it, feeling warm and sleepy, bites fed to your mouth. Chewing and swallowing obediently. But it’s hard, you’re so tired. Unable to hold yourself up no matter how much they try and get you to. Limp propped against Yoongi's chest, Namjoon's, your body so heavy and so tired and now sore the second someone stops sucking.

No sooner has Yoongi slipped one of Hoseok’s shirts over your head than has wetness started to gather at the front and an uncomfortable pressure began to build. They give up and take it off because Tae is eyeing you hungrily and really. Your whines of displeasure and teary eyes are too much for them to handle. Simultaneously denied and overstimulated.

Tae sets you back against Jimin’s chest, the alpha holding around your middle. She may have had one sip earlier but now that they’ve established that yes feeding from you is something you need she’s going to hog you.

She ducks low, kissing your nose, your lips, your chin before she buries her head where you’re softest.

“Mommy mommy please.” You whine as she teases, using just her lips to mouth there, waiting until milk beads, sensitive, slip down your skin to lap it all up.

“Oh little pup, don’t want to let any go to waste? We can’t have that. You’re so sweet like this. How good you are- how lucky we are. Alpha’s fucked you so good you can’t help but milk up huh? Wanted a pup so bad that your body caught on before a pup did huh? How cute. Aren’t we so lucky Minnie?”

“So lucky,” Jimin groans, holding around your middle, hands pressed to your stomach. Slipping lower as Tae sucks.

There is some hushed whispering, a rustle of bed sheets, you blink up at the ceiling, and then a vibration sounds, and you let out a broken, “oh.” as it starts.

You turn, look, and Yoongi grins, tears bead at the corner of your eyes, but it’s hard not to rock up into it. You remember- the alphas putting a collection of vibrators and knots and dildos on the edge of the nest, in case they needed them. But it's a good reward now, an easy orgasm that hits you warm.

Your body is hungry for pleasure, endlessly hungry for it in heat. Tae laps up the center of your chest while she switches from tit to tit, both milk and sweat. Feral as she does it, a look down at her says her eyes are dark, teeth sharp.

But she’s so careful, so gentle as she sucks. Yoongi turns the vibration up higher, and you jerk, or try to. Sandwich in on all sides. Surrounded by them, carried to the precipice of pleasure by the vibrator pressed to your clit, keeping you pinned there beneath the waves of pleasure. So much. Too much. Your body is so sensitive from the last three days of this. You can’t possibly handle it.

“Can’t cum again, can’t Mommy, too- too little. Too much.” You babble, but Tae tuts. Pulling off of you, a bead of milk on her pink lips.

“Good pups cum as many times as their Mommy wants them to, come on pup, make a mess all over Mommy’s dress for me."

You obey her with a broken whimper.

~-~

notes:

namjoon is so fucking horny when he's talking about yoongi's knot and i lowkey love it, how kinda like- obviously guided by hornyness he is.

also it is 1000% the mating mark that's making yoongi have a knot like- his biology is all fucked up because beta's aren't supposed to mate, the hormones in his body that keep him neutral are being kinda 'adjusted' by the m/c's slick and mark and hormones.

me 🤝 the m/c, wanting to bite yoongi's nose.

i really wanted the scene with yoongi and the m/c to kinda be like- a final opus and like super intense, how did i do?

i struggled with writing some of the dialogue in this initially- which is so /not/ how writing usually goes for me, usually the dialogue is very easy to me but i worry that i'm getting a bit repetitive with my kinks.

honestly why do i feel the need to make the smut poetic like??? is this only for me or is this a thing???? "Yoongi fucks the same way he talks, sweet but firm. he cums that way too. Warm and slow. You feel every syllable and every drop." like thats so pretty.

the m/c bites tae because she's making yoongi overwhelmed and that's the m/cs job 😠.

okay but the reason why i describe yoongi as breathing heavy is because i personally may have...stumbled uppon a audio of his breathes and him breathing heavy and fuck if that isn't hot.

part of yoongi's smutt scene was inspired by badoobee's 'real man' so yeah, i don't really really really like the message of her song, but it is sexy so 🤷‍♀️

yoongi with the life fucked out of him: 😵‍💫 mc: i did a good job 🥰 honestly though in my mind he has trouble being in the same room as her after she litterally rides him until he can't cum anymore.

honestly jk and her holding hands while they're both getting fucked is such a cute image like fuck i love them so much. i love this version of jungkook so much- i'll always be happy with his charecter in bily.

dang, i really did make jungkook's parts super super horny.

i feel like everyone who reads this should know it's completely possible to make yourself lactate just from nipple stimulation like- even if you're male. lowkey when am i going to write a normal non-abo total power exchange fic with cisswap taegi turning the m/c into their little milksub, and they decide (because the m/c's mommies know best) that they'll put her through a sucking schedule to see if they can make her chest turn milky as an experiment! only to offer her milk up to all their friends ie the rest of bts, bonus points if she starts leaking when they're at a normal friend gathering and it turns into everyone trying it.

Similarly to how yoongi always pops a knot after this, i think the m/c also lactates through every heat after this. and then one day in the distant future after one heat it just...doesn't stop. And the pack realize it's a sign that she actually /does/ want to be knocked up or at least her inner omega has decided she's ready to actually be bred.

is this self indulgent? yes. do i care? no.

even i have to admit that i'm a little bit tired of writing smutt at this point tbh...but luckily we have just one chapter after this with smutt! and it's mostly aftercare and a lovely little spanking scene <3

[softcitrus2345]

Thinkin' Jayvik thoughts (to nobody's surprise)

I wanted to explore how their bodies would change with the added weight, how the fat would settle on them differently

Jayce has always been a big guy, his muscular, square-ish build giving him plenty of mass to start off with. I see him being more of a top heavy/barrel chested kinda guy once he gets bigger, carrying it all pretty evenly, but he still maintains that square shape, despite being much rounder and softer around the middle. He's still very strong, probably even more so now that he has all that bulk to give him some more leverage- man eats like he'll never see food again, especially after a long session in the forge-

Viktor however, starts off very thin, so it's more of a mystery to them both how he would start to accumulate the pounds over time. Once he starts gaining, it wouldn't be as noticeable at first, since it would start as his body just filling out to a healthy weight, opposed to his more gaunt, sickly form from act 2 season 1 and onward-

Eventually though, it shifts, from having just enough to finally provide some cushion and insulation so his bones don't protrude as much, to slightly plump. He looks healthier than ever, and finally has developed more of an appetite. He grows into a pear shape, most of the fat settling in his hips, thighs and lower belly. Jayce ends up making his braces a little more easily adjustable for both his leg and back, since he's been outgrowing them pretty fast as of late >;]

Anyway, here's some domestic Jayvik doodles I cleaned up last night-

I decided to do their season 1 looks as well as a little post-canon concept just for funsies~ ;p

I didn't add Viktor's braces in the first one since I wanted to show off the fun chonk, but I did add a bit of bruising where they would normally sit on his body

In the second one, his braces are now a part of his body, shown in his scars, similar to his hexcorized form from s2 ;]

They're so cute in both RAAAAGH..

Oh yea, also here's a little infodump about my

Jayvik Feedism Headcanons

Just based off of their characters, Viktor would be more of a passive gainer, with Jayce encouraging him to take care of himself more and actually eat regular meals, he'd sometimes forget how much smaller Viktor's appetite is compared to his own (big 6'4 beefy guy who works in a forge half the time) and Viktor would probably end up eating more than he should thanks to Jayce's coaxing and big wet puppy dog eyes when he asks him to finish off what he made for him

They're both scientists and work long hours in a lab together, so Jayce would probably bring more food to the lab to make sure Viktor doesn't skip meals (cause in canon he does severely neglect a lot of his own needs because he's so focused on just his own research, he forgets he's a human who needs to take care of his vessel-)

He would start to gain noticeably, and he ends up looking much healthier and more alive, he has more energy and stops looking so gaunt and underfed. He just looks thin, but not dangerously so

That doesn't stop his partner from continuing with the doting and favors, always insisting he have his fill, though lightheartedly

Vik starts getting noticeably fat and Jayce notices. And it drives. Him. Mad.

He tries to ignore it and act normal but it's definitely having an effect on him when he's messing up equations and missing chunks of Viktor's rambles about their projects because he's just. Staring.

I mean can you blame him, man's got the tummy tucked into the pants and everything, it's just begging to be freed atp-

Eventually Viktor makes him spit out what's got him so flustered and they both learn of their mutual attraction to one another

Bing bang boom they keep going, with Viktor now being very open and almost teasing Jayce with his growth, and pushing Jayce to eat more too and to gain with him.

Jayce, always eager to please, goes full in and just constantly stuffs himself in front of Vik, melting from all the praise and loving touches he gets. Sometimes he does it even when Viktor isn't there, just because he misses the feeling or when he's stressed about a project. Viktor finds it endearing

Jayce would do anything for him, and proves it time and time again when Viktor pushes him past his limits consistently, reduced to a panting, whining, burpy mess >:3c

He gets big. Like big..

And they both love it-

Anyway fat and happy gays I'll shut up now AAAGH.

[imaroyalmess]

DPax first meeting

but from Jazz's POV

Wc: 853

Jazz knows D-16 on a technical level. The same as how he “knows” every clause to the evacuation code or how he “knows” transformation cogs—theoretically, if not a bit muddled, but never personally. They’ve exchanged short introductions, a nod of recognition as they pass one another, amicable small talk on the occasions they stand next to each other on the train.

More than anything, Jazz trusts D-16’s work ethic. That mech follows protocol with a precision that even Elita-1 hums in approval of and hey, the more energon they mine, the less the piss off the cogged supervisors, the better.

What can Jazz say? The bot’s a damn good miner and he respects that.

This particular solar cycle they’re rearranging their berths to accommodate the new crew and D-16 is, predictably, off to the side, eyeing potential placements for his Megatronus Prime decal. Jazz’s dermas quirks into a half smile and jogs over.

“Hey, need any help there?” Jazz slaps D-16’s shoulder plate and D-16 pivots so the tips of Jazz’s digits only scrape the area lightly.

“I’m fine,” D-16 insists, optics flickering to Jazz in a brief acknowledgement before returning to the decal in his servos. “Are you—?”

Jazz grins. “Checking on you? You could say that. Or I’m making sure you don’t eat the newbies spark first, does that sound better to you?”

D-16 shakes his helm, Jazz’s signal that he’s reached his socialization quota of the day. He points at the decal. “Tilt it a little that way. It’s a bit—yeah, that’s it! Now it’s perfect.”

Jazz automatically reaches out to tap D-16’s shoulder plate again—habit from all his other comrades.

“Don’t,” D-16 warns. “You just fixed it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya.” Jazz throws his servos up in surrender, smirking grin still in full effect. “I’m over here if ya need anything. And you’re welcome.”

D-16 grumbles low enough that it can’t reach Jazz’s audials—probably either a curse or a thank you, there’s no telling with that one. Jazz strides off to his own berth, plain save for a data pad full of comics stowed away in a side pocket. Perhaps his name would fit across the sides…he’ll have to swipe some cosmetic paints to make it happen but wouldn’t it be cool?

“—the coolest.”

Taken aback, Jazz whirls around only to find that the mech wasn’t addressing him at all. The blue and red newbie is grinning, the corners of his intake almost splitting his face plate wide open. Which, woah, that’s a lot, but what’s even more woah is how he’s speaking with D-16…and D-16 is smiling back? 

“No fraggin’ way,” Jazz’s vocal chip comes close to short circuiting.

“You know,” D-16 begins, verging on chipper, “Sentinel says that Megatronus was—”

“—the strongest Prime to ever live,” the two of them complete together. The newcomer chuckles, followed in suit by D-16, dear Primus, Jazz has to sit down. This cannot be real.

“Orion Pax,” the other bot says, extending a servo.

“D-16.” He accepts the shake.

One of Jazz’s friends attempts to interrupt. “Hey, Jazz—”

Jazz cannot miss one klik of what’s unfolding so he waves an arm out. “Not now, not now.”

“So, you ever mine energon before?” D-16 inquires and that’s— D-16? Asking a question with the intent of getting to know a mech? It’s about work, which Jazz notes to discuss with him later, but it’s progress. Jazz is in equal parts proud as he is insulted.

“No, you?” Orion Pax asks back. His optics, very blue optics Jazz can see even at this distance, turn to D-16, that all-too-easy smile softened and blinding.

D-16 is as struck as Jazz is. “...no.”

Scratch that. He’s much more struck than Jazz is. Jazz forces a shut down to his voice box before the cackle can ruin their moment. What in all of Primus’ glory is D-16 thinking?

“I hear it’s dangerous,” he tacks on.

D-16 must be glitched. There’s no way he isn’t when his rank is splayed clear across his chest plate. Jazz takes all his pride back, shoves it deep within his spark and bites down on his glossa instead of slamming his helm into his berth several times. 

Orion Pax truly must be new because his optics don’t process the ranking badge at all. “Well, how about this? You watch my back and I’ll watch yours?”

A servo stretches out in a loose fist, waiting for an answering bump. Good and honest, and Jazz crosses his spark that this happened, D-16 beams. “Yeah. Yeah, alright. Sounds good…Pax.”

The two of them tap their fists together—which delights Orion to no end by the looks of it. It’s touching, if it weren’t for the fact that D-16 is the worst flirt in all of Iacon. Oh, he’ll deny it once Jazz approaches him but Jazz has two working optics, a fully functional processor, and a propensity for intruding.

Jazz sets a reminder in his HUD to teach D-16 how to flirt with his little Orion. Properly. In a way that doesn’t involve lying. Maybe he’ll get a proper thanks from D-16 then.

(Probably not.)

based on this tweet i saw a few days ago and couldn't stop thinking about D-16 straight up LYING

[iamquiantrelle]

GOLDEN BOY (chapter 2)────── iamquaintrelle

⌗ pairing : trent alexander arnold x black oc

⌗ summary : trent is having a quarter life crisis but will a smart-mouthed girl whip him into shape?

⌗ warnings : 18+ only!! (☁️☔️💕)

⌗taglist: @foreverisntenough, @trentswrld, @trentswhore @cinnaleaf @v6quewrlds @football-and-fanfics @eriks-girl @preetykookie @4ngryssgf @endlessmuse @noturbabe22 @bbgkoo

Tyler was still talking, going on about lighting concepts, but Trent's mind was spinning like he'd just done dizzy penalties.

April fucking Goodplenty.

The girl who'd rinsed him about his accent was apparently some hotshot photographer to the stars. No wonder she wasn't gassed about him being TAA - she probably shot Mbappé in his boxers last week.

"…could really elevate your brand," Tyler was saying. "Show a different side of you, you know? More artistic–"

"I fucked her last night."

Tyler's fork clattered against his plate. "What?"

"Well, almost fucked her." Trent grimaced, remembering. "Got proper mortal on tequila."

"You're taking the piss."

"Swear down." Trent tugged his collar down, revealing the art gallery of hickeys April had left behind. "She's got this mental cat named Pussy–"

"Bruv." Tyler put his head in his hands. "You're telling me you pulled the photographer I've been trying to book for three months? The one who told Nike to fuck off because their concept wasn't 'authentic' enough?"

"…yeah?"

"And you got liquor dick?"

"Oi!" The elderly couple at the next table turned to stare, and Trent lowered his voice. "It weren't just me, she was proper steaming too."

Tyler started laughing, proper belly laughs that had heads turning all over the restaurant. "This is peak. Absolutely peak. The one time your dick decides to go on strike–"

"Listen yeah," Trent cut in, "we can't book her. It'd be weird now."

"Are you mad? This is perfect! She already knows you, innit? Might even give us a better rate–"

"Ty." Trent's voice was serious now. "She proper mugged me off this morning. Slammed the door in my face and everything. Think she'd just take the piss if we tried booking her."

"Or maybe…" Tyler had that look he got when he was plotting something. "Maybe she'd want to finish what you started."

Trent's mind flashed to this morning - April in that silk robe, the way it had gaped open just enough to drive him mental. The absolute violation that would be, her directing him all professional-like while knowing exactly what he looked like in just his boxers.

"Nah." He shook his head. "Find someone else."

"Too late." Tyler's grin was pure evil as he held up his phone. "Already sent the inquiry last week. Got a meeting with her tomorrow."

"You're taking the fucking piss."

"Meeting's at two. Her studio in Shoreditch." Tyler stood up, dropping some notes on the table. "Don't be late."

"I'm not going."

"Yes you are." Tyler's voice had that tone that meant business. "This is exactly what we need for your image right now. Bit of edge, bit of artistry. Show everyone you're more than just the scouse wonderkid."

Trent watched his brother leave, then slumped back in his chair. Fucking hell. Tomorrow was going to be madness.

His phone buzzed - Tyler sending through the studio address. Under it was a message that made his stomach flip:

'She already confirmed btw. Said she's "very interested" in working with you.'

Christ. What had he gotten himself into?

Trent's Range Rover crawled through Shoreditch's narrow streets, his GPS having trouble trying to navigate the one-way system. Warehouse conversions and street art blurred past as his mind wandered to the night before last - to tequila shots and spiced vanilla and yellow-eyed cats named after Bond girls.

"Just round here," Tyler pointed, and Trent pulled up outside a converted factory building. Red brick, massive windows, proper East London trendy.

"Still think this is dead weird," he muttered, killing the engine.

"Stop being a pussy and come on."

The receptionist buzzed them through to a freight lift that looked like something out of a horror film, all exposed metal and dodgy grinding noises. When it finally wheezed to a stop, they stepped out into what had to be April's studio.

And there she was.

Fuck me.

The high-waisted jeans should've been illegal, honestly. Hugging every curve like they were painted on, leading down to these mental heels that had Trent's brain short-circuiting. The cropped jumper showed just enough skin to be professional but still have him thinking very unprofessional thoughts. Her hair was pulled back today, showing off cheekbones that could probably cut glass.

"Tyler," she smiled, all business now. "And… Trent. Nice to see you both."

The way she said his name had him remembering exactly how it sounded when she'd been leaving those marks on his neck. Speaking of which…

"Still sporting those love bites, I see," she smirked, gesturing for them to follow her into what looked like a meeting room. "Rough weekend?"

"Something like that," he managed, trying not to stare at her ass as she walked ahead of them. But fucking hell, those jeans were criminal.

The meeting room was all exposed brick and vintage furniture, mood boards covering one wall. April perched on the edge of the table, crossing those legs like she knew exactly what she was doing to his mental state.

"So," she began, pulling up some images on her laptop. "I've got some concepts I think could work really well. Break away from the usual footballer shoot - no watches, no posing with cars. Something more… raw."

Tyler leaned forward, interested. "Go on."

"I'm thinking black and white, minimal styling. Really strip everything back." She turned her laptop around, showing similar shoots she'd done. "Some torso shots, maybe even full nude–"

"What?" Trent choked out.

"Nothing gratuitous," she continued like he hadn't spoken. "All very tasteful. Think Greek sculpture vibes. Show the athletic form, the power, the vulnerability…"

"Nah," Trent shook his head. "No chance."

"Why not?" Those eyes fixed on him, challenging. "Scared?"

"I'm not scared," he bristled. "Just don't fancy getting my kit off for your camera, do I?"

"Wouldn't be the first time you've stripped for me though, would it?"

Tyler's eyebrows shot up as Trent felt his face heat. "That was different–"

"Was it?" She tilted her head, that infuriating smirk playing at her lips. "Because I seem to remember you being quite… willing."

"We'll think about it," Tyler cut in smoothly, ever the professional. "Maybe start with something less… exposed? Build up to it?"

April shrugged, standing up. "Your call. But I think you're missing an opportunity here. Could be something special."

As they headed for the lift, she called out: "Oh, and Trent? Might want to invest in some turtlenecks. Those marks look proper savage. Almost like you ran into a vampire or something."

"That what you are then? A vampire?"

Her laugh echoed through the studio - an unfiltered belly laugh that had him staring. Head thrown back, eyes crinkled, nothing like her professional photographer persona. Something in his chest did a weird flip.

"You're mental, you know that?" he said, but he was grinning despite himself.

"So I've been told." She winked - actually winked - and disappeared back into her office.

Outside, Tyler was already on his phone, probably lining up their next meeting. "That went well."

"Well?" Trent spluttered. "She wants me naked!"

"Not straight away though. We can build up to it–"

"I'm not getting my dick out for art, Ty!"

"No one said anything about your dick," Tyler grinned. "Unless… you thinking about showing her that too?"

"Shut up."

"Nah but seriously," Tyler pocketed his phone, turning to face him. "Did you see those other shots she showed us? Proper sick. Could really change how people see you."

Trent leaned against his car, thinking about it. The photos had been amazing - athletes looking powerful but vulnerable at the same time. Nothing sleazy about it. But still…

"She's just going to take the piss the whole time."

"Maybe that's what you need though?" Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Someone who doesn't treat you like TAA, Liverpool's golden boy. When was the last time someone actually challenged you properly?"

Never, if he was being honest. Even Sophie had just tried to mold him into what she thought he should be. But April… she seemed dead set on doing the opposite.

"Plus," Tyler added with a smirk, "think you might be into it a bit."

"What?"

"The way she mugs you off. Saw your face when she was giving it the big one about being scared. You proper love it."

"Fuck off," Trent laughed, but his neck felt hot. Was he actually into being challenged like that? The way she'd rinsed him about everything, how she kept him on his toes…

Christ. Maybe he did have a thing for it.

"Just think about it," Tyler said, already walking to the passenger side. "Meeting's in the diary for next week. Wear something nice."

Trent watched his brother disappear inside the car, then looked back up at the studio windows. Through the massive panes of glass, he could just make out April's silhouette, bent over her desk reviewing something.

Those fucking jeans though.

Maybe one more meeting wouldn't hurt.

Liverpool's training ground was freezing, typical January weather making everyone's breath visible in the air. Trent tugged at his high-neck base layer, grateful for the excuse of the cold to cover up April's artwork. Two days later and the marks were still there, like she'd been trying to brand him or something.

"Again!" Slot's voice carried across the pitch. "Press higher, Trent! Control that space!"

He pushed forward, finding that pocket between the defensive line in the practice match. The ball came to his feet like it was on a string - muscle memory from thousands of repetitions. One touch, two touch, whipped cross to Nuñez who buried it in the top corner.

"Better! Take five, lads!"

Trent grabbed his water bottle and phone from his bag, dropping onto one of the benches. His thumb opened Raya automatically - sad behavior really, but he couldn't help himself. Been glued to it since New Year's, swiping through posh girls and influencers without really seeing them.

Until.

"You're fucking joking," he muttered, nearly dropping his phone.

There she was. April Goodplenty, 27, verified profile with that little blue tick. Her first photo was something artistic - all shadows and angles, showing off those cheekbones that could probably slice bread. The next one had her on some beach in Bali, wearing this tiny white bikini that had his throat going dry. Then one of her working, camera in hand, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration.

The bio though: "If your profile's got you in a watch and suit, save us both the time and swipe left xx"

Trent snorted. Course she'd have that energy on here too.

His thumb hovered over her profile. Would she even swipe right on him? Probably saw him as just another job now. Plus there was that whole… liquor dick situation. Total violation that was.

Fuck it.

He swiped right just as Slot's whistle pierced the air.

"Let's go! Set piece drills!"

Back to work then. He jogged back onto the pitch, trying to focus on football instead of wondering if she'd match with him. They ran through corner routines, free kick patterns, all the stuff that should've had his full attention. But his mind kept drifting to spiced vanilla and burgundy nails and that laugh that made his chest do weird things.

"Trent!" Slot's voice snapped him back. "You're dropping too deep again!"

Get it together, lad.

By the time training finished, he was tired. The shower felt biblical, hot water washing away the January chill. He wrapped a towel around his waist and another around his neck to hide the love bites, heading for his locker when his phone lit up with a notification.

New match on Raya.

His heart actually skipped. What was he, twelve?

But there she was - April Goodplenty had swiped right. And she'd already sent a message:

"You get one second chance. Don't fuck it up."

His first thought was "Yes ma'am" but that felt a bit… eager. Instead, he sent back a salute emoji, trying to play it cool while his brain was doing cartwheels.

Right then. Where the fuck do you take a girl who thinks fancy restaurants are dead and probably knows every hipster spot in London?

He opened Google, typing "unique date ideas Liverpool" before deleting it immediately. Nah, that was basic. She'd see right through that.

What about… he thought back to her flat. All those vinyls, the art everywhere. The way her eyes lit up when she was taking the piss out of his accent.

Maybe he did have an idea. Something properly scouse, but make it interesting. Show her his Liverpool, not the sanitized version he usually showed girls like Sophie.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, a grin spreading across his face. Oh yeah. This could work.

Now he just had to not fuck it up.

**********************************************

Two-all against Man United felt like a kick in the teeth. Trent's yellow card was still burning him up - such a soft call from the ref after Rashford went down like he'd been shot. The crowd had lost it, Anfield turning into a cauldron of noise as Man United's number ten rolled around like he was auditioning for the Olympics.

The gaffer had given them the "point's a point" speech in the dressing room, but it didn't help the taste of ash in his mouth. Should've had that game wrapped up in the first half - hit the post twice, had a penalty shout waved away. Then Bruno's equalizer in the 89th minute... violation that.

And now he had to somehow get his head right for this date.

He'd picked Baltic Market - bit different from his usual spots, proper Liverpool but with an edge. Street food stalls, local artists, that indie record shop in the corner that reminded him of April's flat. No fancy tablecloths or sommeliers giving it the big one about wine pairings. Just real Liverpool culture, the kind tourists never got to see.

His phone buzzed - probably Tyler asking about the match. But nah, just his mum sending another article about his yellow card. Christ, did everyone have an opinion these days?

"This better work," he muttered, checking the time again. Seven minutes late. Maybe she'd ghosted. Wouldn't be surprised after that meeting, him acting all precious about getting his kit off–

"Didn't expect you to actually pick somewhere decent."

That voice. He turned and… fuck me.

The Balenciaga jumpsuit was doing criminal things to her figure, and those heels had her almost at his height. Her coat was probably worth more than his entire outfit, but she wore it like it was nothing. Those curls though - bouncing with every movement, making his fingers itch to touch them.

"Rough match?" she asked, and he could've kissed her for not going straight into analysis mode like everyone else after a draw.

"Something like that."

"Good thing I know just the cure." She nodded toward the entrance. "Shall we?"

Inside was buzzing - fairy lights strung across the ceiling, music from some local band floating through the air, the smell of about twelve different cuisines mixing together. April's eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas, taking it all in.

"Now this," she said, "is more like it."

They ended up at this Korean street food stall, April going in on some bulgogi fries while telling him about this shoot she did with some rugby player who kept flexing his abs between takes.

"Real tragic," she laughed, licking sauce off her fingers in a way that had his mind going places it shouldn't. "Like mate, I can see them, you don't need to keep pushing them out. Looked like he was having a fit."

"That what you want me to do then? Get my abs out?"

"Please," she rolled her eyes, but he caught the way her gaze flickered to his torso. "Your ego's big enough already. Plus, after that meeting... seems like you're scared of the camera."

"I'm not scared," he bristled. "Just don't fancy having my arse all over magazines."

"Shame," she smirked. "It's quite a nice arse."

Before he could process that, she was already moving on to the next stall, leaving him standing there like an idiot.

They wandered through the market, April stopping to chat with every artist about their work. She knew her stuff too - passionate about it all. Made him think about those art prints in her flat, how everything there had felt intentional. Not like his place with its designer furniture picked out by some interior decorator.

The record shop owner recognized him, but instead of the usual selfie request, he and April got into this massive debate about vinyl pressings that Trent couldn't follow for shit. But watching her get excited about it, those curls bouncing as she gestured, the way her eyes lit up when she found some rare pressing... it was doing something to his chest, making it feel tight in a way that had nothing to do with the match earlier.

"Trent?"

He blinked, realizing he'd been staring. "What?"

"I said, should we get out of here?"

Outside, the Liverpool air was bitter now. April pulled her coat tighter, those curls whipping in the wind, and Trent had to stuff his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch them.

"Listen," she said suddenly, turning to face him. "Let's cut the chase. I'm a busy woman, you're a busy man... so are we trying to fuck each other or are you pussy?"

Trent nearly choked on air. "I- what?"

"You heard me."

"You slammed a door in my face!" he spluttered. "Like, what are you talking about?"

"Sorry," she shrugged, not looking sorry at all. Those eyes were dancing with mischief again. "I saw you giving me the eyes at our meeting. And you swiped right on Raya, so..."

His brain was short-circuiting. This girl was actually mental. Completely off her head. Saying whatever came to mind like she didn't give a fuck about the consequences. And fuck him if it wasn't the most attractive thing he'd ever seen.

"You're actually mad," he said, but he was grinning.

"Maybe." She stepped closer, close enough that he could smell that spiced vanilla again. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes, the way her lips curved into that smile that spelled trouble. "But I don't see you running."

No, he definitely wasn't running. Not when she was looking at him like that, like she was deciding exactly how she wanted to ruin him. Not when those curls were right there, begging to be touched. Not when everything about her was a challenge he desperately wanted to accept.

"So?" She raised an eyebrow, and he could see the marks she'd left on his neck reflected in her eyes. "What's it going to be?"

The wind whipped around them, carrying the distant sounds of the city - cars honking, music from the market, someone laughing. But all Trent could focus on was the way April was looking at him, those eyes challenging him like always. Making him feel like more than just TAA, Liverpool's golden boy. Making him feel... real.

Fuck it.

"Your place or mine?"

Her smile turned wicked. "Bold of you to assume I'm that easy."

"You literally just asked if-"

"I know what I asked." She took a step back, and he immediately missed her warmth. "But maybe I just wanted to see what you'd say."

Christ. This girl was going to be the death of him.

"See you at the studio next week, Trent," she called over her shoulder, already walking away. "Try not to think about me too much."

He watched her disappear into the night, those curls bouncing with each step, that jumpsuit doing ungodly things to his mind.

Too late for that, wasn't it? He was already in too deep, and they both knew it.

The worst part? He was starting to think he didn't mind at all.

…………tbd