#how can you not see that she is you in EVERY way that matters

[hurlingdown]

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

[girlgenius1111]

chosen

alexia putellas x reader after insisting on going to r's childhood home to spend christmas with her family, alexia helps r navigate a rather difficult reunion with rather difficult parents. angst -> fluff / comfort :)

—

It was almost embarrassing, bringing Alexia home to a family so devoid of love. She’d insisted, though, never having met your parents, even though you’d met her entire extended family multiple times. She’d explained it adorably, that she wanted to see where you came from and the people that raised you. You weren’t entirely sure how to tell her that none of that was worth seeing, so with several complaints, you’d agreed to return home for Christmas. Alexia could be difficult like that; when she wanted something, she was like a dog with a bone. 

She wanted you to get to spend Christmas with your family, and she was making it happen. No matter what you said. 

What you absolutely couldn’t have, though, was Alexia getting to your childhood home unprepared. She had to know what she was getting herself into, and you did your best to prepare her. It started with small things, telling her how your mother was very religious, or how your father was quiet and probably wouldn’t speak much. But you couldn’t stop thinking of things to warn her about, until you were on the plane sitting next to her, a whole speech about your mother and her disapproval of your career falling from your mouth. 

“And she’ll probably say something about us getting real jobs, and I just don’t want you to–”

Alexia cut you off, grabbing the hand that was gesturing wildly as you spoke and giving it a firm squeeze. “Amor, I have been hearing that for years from people. I can take it.” 

Her smile was nothing but reassuring, and you weren’t sure how to express just how difficult your parents and your family could be. Your girlfriend knew that your relationship with your family was strained, but you’d always been very tight-lipped about the details. You were filled to the brim with anxious anticipation, and you could tell Alexia didn’t understand why you seemed to be dreading this. Christmas at home with your family should, theoretically, be an enjoyable and fun time. 

It wouldn’t be. It hadn’t been, in all the years that you’d been travelling back home for it, and you knew it’d be even worse this year, because every second your mind would be consumed with being terrified of what your girlfriend would be thinking. Of your family and the way they viewed you, the way they spoke and belittled you. The fear that she would realize just how ugly and cruel your family could be and decide she didn’t want that in her life was all consuming. 

You’d always heard that a person was the truest version of themselves with their family. This sentiment had always horrified you, your greatest fear being that it was correct. The version of you around your parents was the worst version of yourself, and Alexia was about to see all of it. 

But didn’t Alexia deserve to see what she was getting herself into with you? In the end, this was what had you convinced to let her come home with you for the holidays. She deserved to know all of the person she was with.

“Amor, hey.” Alexia called, cupping your cheek with one hand as you focused back on her, apparently having gotten lost in your thoughts. “Where did you go just now?” 

Her eyes were crinkled with concern, her fingers soft on your cheek, and you felt the sudden appearance of tears pooling in your eyes. Her brow knitted together and she leaned closer, gently kissing your cheek. 

You inhaled deeply, letting her hand in yours ground you into the present. “I’m nervous. I don’t think you get that–”

Alexia interrupted you again, covering your mouth with her hand. “I understand that your family is difficult. I understand that your relationship with them is not the best. But maybe this can be your chance to try to mend things, no? And I promise, amorcita, nothing I see from your family will make me love you any less.” 

Alexia kissed you again before pulling you into her chest as best she could with the arm of the airplane seat in between you. You let her hold you, wondering if she was telling the truth. If she’d really still love you after… what you were increasingly sure would be a disaster was over. 

—

It started as soon as you arrived. There were a few moments of peace on the drive from the airport to your parents house, with Alexia practically smooshing her face against the window to get a glimpse of your hometown.  

And then you’d arrived, and within a few minutes of your arrival, your mother had commented on your hair, your clothes, your career, and your lack of time spent at home. Alexia was quiet, as you knew she would be, because she still felt insecure about her English, and she much preferred to listen to it than to speak it. 

Your parents seemed to like Alexia, at least, commenting on how put together she seemed, and how kind it was of her to bring the bottle of wine she had with her as a gift for them. You were still tense, though, standing in the pristinely white kitchen with your parents and your siblings, discussing the plans for the day. It was the 22nd, and there were still things needed to be done before everyone arrived on Christmas Eve. Alexia stood at your side, just observing. 

“Alright, what else does everyone need to do?” Your mother asked, taking out a notepad and holding her pen at the ready over it, as if you all weren’t adults that could remember simple tasks.

“I need to get the ingredients for the Christmas cookies I’m going to make.” You stated, having done all of your shopping already and sent it ahead. 

“Really? You’re going to make those cookies?” Your mother replied, her fast twisting with disgust. You shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Yes, everyone normally likes them.” 

Your mother exchanged a look with your father, smirking as she looked back at her list. “Honey, no one eats them. I throw most of them out every year when you’re not looking.” 

Your face burned with embarrassment, and you shrunk into yourself, head bowed as you stared at the floor and willed everyone to stop looking at you. This was what you’d always done; instead of arguing back, you’d shut down. They could say what they wanted, but you didn’t have to let it hurt you. You weren’t exactly sure how to stop it from hurting, but they didn’t have to know that. 

Yet as your Mom turned to your sister to ask her what she had left to do, Alexia stepped closer towards you, grabbing your hand and taking a deep breath. 

“I like the cookies. And so does the team, they always ask you to bring them.” Her voice was soft, words accented, but the room was silent. Your mother turned to look at her, an odd expression on her face, and you sighed internally. You could feel nothing but deep gratitude for Alexia, sweet loyal Alexia who loved anything you cooked and and refused to let even you criticize yourself. 

Your Mother chuckled, a cruel sound that made you wince. 

“You don’t need to lie, Alexia, you’re already way out of her league. You shouldn’t have to eat her awful baking too.” Your Mother joked, a glint in her eye that told you she wasn’t really joking.

Still, Alexia seemed offended at your mother’s words, and you should have known she would be. Her grip on your hand tightened, and she stepped in closer. 

“No, she is a good baker, and I–”

Your father cut Alexia off, speaking for the first time since you’d arrived. “Well, the Spanish do have weird tastes. Excessively affectionate, too.” His eyes flickered down to where your hand was intertwined with Alexia’s, his meaning clear in his tone. 

You felt Alexia’s hand slip from yours, and you could see out of the corner of your eye that she had turned red. This was a step too far. Making Alexia feel embarrassed for showing affection towards you… you could take everything they had to throw at you, but they were not allowed to mess with the best person you’d ever known. 

You stepped forward, despite the light tug on the back of your shirt from Alexia, clearly telling you to let it go. You couldn’t let it go; you could handle the disrespect from your parents, but you wouldn’t let them do the same to Alexia. 

“That was rude, Dad.” Your voice shook pathetically, the big stand you were taking seemed pitiful as soon as you tried to speak. 

Again, your parents just exchanged amused glances, and you could see out of the corner of your eye your siblings rolling their eyes. It seemed as if no one was on your side, and you weren’t sure why you were surprised. That’s how it always went. 

Without another word in your direction, your Mother turned to your siblings, asking them what they had left to do. Of course, there was no criticism of the cake your sister intended to bake, even though it always came out dry. No one told your brother that the amount of alcohol he was planning on getting was absurd. It seemed the humiliation was only reserved for you. 

The old feeling was back, the one of deep loneliness. You’d spent almost 18 years in this house, feeling like an outsider. Whenever you returned, it was like you reverted back to the 18 year old that had left, no matter how much time had passed. You always felt like an irrationally angry kid in the face of how your parents treated you, and you hated it. Always second guessing yourself, always half sure that you were the one in the wrong. Your parents, your brother and your sister, they all agreed that you were the problem. You were alone, here, like you always were. 

Another tug on your hand, though, reminded you that you weren’t actually alone. 

“Come on, show me your room.” Alexia whispered, her hands gentle as she guided you out of the room. She was shocked, to say the least, at your family’s treatment of you. She’d known you had a difficult relationship but she didn’t imagine it was like this. You’d been home for 10 minutes, seeing your parents for the first time in almost a year, and they’d wasted no time trying to embarrass you in front of her. She was hoping this was a one off, though, perhaps an inside joke she had misunderstood. So, she let you lead the way to your room, taking in the small space more critically than she normally would have. 

Her room at her mothers house was left practically untouched from when she’d moved out. It was filled with posters of footballers and old memories. Your room here, though, was devoid of any sentiment. No pictures, no decorations, nothing that made it feel like it had been yours. Alexia wasn’t sure if your parents had cleared away any trace of you from the room, or if it had never really been decorated in the first place. She wasn’t sure which she preferred, honestly. 

But as you leaned into her wordlessly for a hug as soon as the bedroom door shut behind you, Alexia began to worry. Making you bring her here was starting to feel like a mistake. She didn’t have the whole picture, or even most of it. All she knew was that she hated the blank expression on your face, and she hated the way you seemed to shrink into yourself around your parents. Like you’d rather disappear than be noticed by them. 

—

It wasn’t a one off, the awkward moment upon your immediate arrival home. It had barely been 24 hours, but Alexia had witnessed at least 5 different instances of your parents treating you like an inconvenient annoyance instead of the daughter they hadn’t seen in almost a year. 

First, it was your mother asking about your plans for when football ended. 

“All I’m saying, honey, is that you are not going to be able to find a good job with your school records.” She tutted, before turning to Alexia. “I swear, she didn’t finish a math or science class with more than a C her entire time in school.”  

Your mother smiled, as if she’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Alexia’s face was one of both shock and horror. Her mami would never have said something even remotely close to what your mother had just said, even if Alexia had failed every class she’d ever taken. It was so unnecessary, and your girlfriend could see the weight your mother’s words had over you. 

It was more of the same from the day before; instead of saying anything in response, you just sank back into the couch, gaze fixed on the floor. This only seemed to mollify your mom, and as she kept talking, rehashing every test you’d failed, Alexia could see tears beginning to well in your eyes. 

“Her marks were so bad before she left for football, I don’t think she would have even graduated.” Your mother chuckled. It was untrue; your grades weren’t that bad. Not the best, sure, but you weren’t in any danger of failing or getting kicked out. Still, it was like your mouth was sealed shut, and saying anything in response wasn’t possible. You couldn’t defend yourself, you couldn’t even look up from the ground. It was pathetic. 

“Amor, can you help me choose what to wear tonight? I brought two sweaters, and I cannot decide.” 

Alexia didn’t wait for a response from you, standing and reaching for your hand, well past caring that your parents seemed to think of Alexia’s affection as something of an entertaining joke. You followed her down the hall and into your bedroom, her hand warm and soft in yours, only making the sob caught in your throat more difficult to keep in. 

As soon as you were safely in your sadly bare bedroom, though, she was wrapping you up tight in her arms. 

You tried to defend yourself, mortified at everything your mother had said, words mumbled into Alexia’s sweatshirt. “I’m not dumb. She made it sound like I’m dumb, but–”

Alexia cut you off, holding you even tighter. “You are not dumb, I know this. Do not listen to her, do not even think about it. You are so intelligent, mi amor, I promise you.” 

Your body began to shake in her arms, a quiet thank you breaking the brief silence. You were crying, and it was all Alexia could do to keep holding you until the tears stopped. What else could she say? 

But for every conversation that followed in which your mother attempted to belittle you or make you feel bad, Alexia would find an excuse to pull you away. 

When your mother expressed her distaste for your haircut, Alexia practically wrote you a poem in the garage about how much she loved your hair. 

When your father made a thinly veiled comment about how you were most definitely not invited to church the following day, as the other families would be judgemental about your lifestyle, Alexia was right beside you, trying to hold back her absolute fury. She forced a smile, telling your father it was better you both stay home, because ignorance and stupidity were not worth engaging with. 

When your mother suggested you eat a salad instead of the pasta you were going to order for dinner, Alexia very pointedly informed your mother that you were among the fittest on the team. And later, laying in bed, when she could tell you were still thinking about the comment, she… reminded you how much she loved your body. Twice. 

Alexia had an answer for everything, a way to make your chest stop squeezing whenever your mother opened her mouth. You weren’t sure how she was doing it, weren’t sure why she was possibly still here. After all of your flaws were explicitly laid out in front of her, she seemed only more determined to make it clear how much she loved you. 

It was easier, one you decided to just focus on Alexia and not what your parents had to say. With her there with you, it felt like this was a trip you could maybe get through. 

But then Alexia offered to take the family dog for a long walk while you caught up with your sister, by far your favorite member of the family. She thought it was important that you have time together, and she didn’t mind a bit of time away from the loud chaos that had taken over the house.  

She left with the dog, returning only 45 minutes later, with no idea what her absence had given the opportunity for. 

Alexia came back into the house, unhooking the dog from his leash, the smile falling from her face when she sensed the tension in the room. You were nowhere to be seen, and your parents looked beyond furious, clattering around angrily in the kitchen as they cooked. Your sister sat on the couch, guilt written across her face. 

“She’s in her room, go,” your sister whispered, catching Alexia’s eye and giving her a meaningful nod. It didn’t take a mind reader to understand what had happened. Things had been on the brink with your parents the short time you’d been home. It seemed everything had finally boiled over. Alexia moved towards your room as fast as was socially acceptable, knocking softly on the door before opening it. You were sitting on the floor at the foot of your bed, face wet with tears. 

“Oh, mí bebe,” Alexia whispered, shutting the door quietly behind her and lowering herself onto the ground next to you. Her strong arms pulled you into a tight hug, and you burrowed into her, not minding the chill of her skin from the cold outside. No hug had ever felt warmer. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, feeling guilt upon guilt at the fact that you’d brought your girlfriend into this environment, even if she’d insisted on it. How embarrassed she must be, to see you so easily humiliated by your parents. She must be rethinking everything, your whole relationship. 

But, as Alexia was often inclined to do, she surprised you, tenderly wiping away your tears and giving you a reassuring smile. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about, nothing.” She assured you, leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

“Then let’s go. We can get flights back to Spain. Be home before Christmas, spend it ourselves. Just us.” 

“You’d do that?” 

“Of course I would, amor.”

“You wanted to come here, though, I don’t want to ruin everything,”

Alexia cut you off. “I don’t want to be anywhere that makes you unhappy.” She said softly. You looked up at her finally, and the adoring expression on her face as she gazed down at you was almost overwhelming. 

“Okay.” You murmured, pressing your face into her shoulder. She held you close, pulling out her phone to buy tickets on the next flight out. Once that was done, she guided you away from the safety of her sweatshirt, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Get packing. I am going to speak to your parents.” 

“Ale,”

“No. I am. Stay here, pack. I will be back in a moment.” 

—

You couldn’t be sure what Alexia said to your parents. They didn’t speak as you left the house, and neither did either of your siblings. They all just watched you go, a somewhat impressed look on your sister’s face. Alexia wouldn’t tell you, either, saying she’d just told them what they needed to hear. 

The next half a day or so went by in a blur. You were emotionally exhausted from being home, and Alexia practically had to drag you through the airport once you’d landed in Barcelona. Before you knew it, you were at Alexia’s mother’s house for Christmas Eve. Eli had been delighted to have the both of you home, not saying a single word about how you were supposed to be at your family’s home. 

You could relax, finally, at Eli’s house with people you felt comfortable around. You loved Alexia’s family, loved how they all seemed excited to see you, asked you enthusiastic questions about your life. It was nice, spending the holidays with them. With Alexia’s arms around your shoulders, making sure you were always tucked into her side, and her family so happily chatting around you, it was so nice to be around a happy, loving family. 

Happy, though, wasn’t all you felt. You watched Alexia with her Mami, her cousins and her aunts and uncles. She fit so easily, smiling widely as she joked around with them. Alexia was loved by her family, but you were not. You never had been and you didn’t understand why.  

There had to be over 50 people in the house, and you were confident that no one would notice if you slipped off, just for a minute. Someone had noticed. Alba noticed the tears in your eyes, too, the ones you hadn’t even been aware of. So, while you darted off to the bathroom, the brunette went in search of her sister. 

She found her in a crowd of her uncles, in a heated argument about some football tactic. Alba didn’t have the patience to wait until the conversation had ended, and knew that if Alexia had seen you just a few moments before, she wouldn’t either. 

“Ale.” Alba said quietly, pulling on her sister’s arm. The blonde shook her off, barely turning her head to look at her as she did so. “Alexia, now.” 

With a roll of her eyes, Alexia exited the conversation. “Ay dios mio, what, Alba?” she huffed, dragging her feet as Alba yanked her in the direction of the bathroom. 

“Your girlfriend snuck away, and it looked like she was crying. Just thought you’d want to know.” Alba snapped with a frown, turning on her heel and stomping away. Alexia would fix that later, she thought. 

“Amor?” Alexia called, knocking quietly. “Are you in there?” 

She heard a deep inhale, and then your shaky voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a second.” 

Alexia tried the handle again. “Let me in, please.” 

A moment passed before the lock clicked open and Alexia practically threw herself through the door and into the bathroom. 

Your makeup was running, and you were desperately trying to mop up the tears still streaming down your face. 

“Come here.” Alexia said simply, opening her arms for you to collapse into. It was a good thing she was wearing a black sweater, or there’d have been mascara visible all over it. You sniffled against her for a few moments, and she didn’t push you to talk. She ran her hand through your hair, leaving a light kiss on the top of your head. 

You pulled away after a moment, reaching for a tissue, but Alexia grabbed one before you could, gently wiping away the tears and running makeup off your face. She had a frown set on her face, and you misunderstood the cause. 

“I’m sorry. I’m okay, you can go back to your family.” 

Her frown deepened. “Do not say sorry. What upset you? Did someone say something?” 

You shook your head, feeling more tears well up in your eyes though you knew you really shouldn’t be crying anymore about this.  “No, no one said anything.” You were wilting under Alexia’s stern gaze, so she made a conscious effort to soften, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. 

“Tell me what has you so upset.” She encouraged, pulling your body closer into hers. 

You exhaled shakily, not quite sure how to explain it without sounding like an awful, pathetic person. “I… it’s just…” 

Alexia sighed, resting her hand on your cheek and encouraging you to look up at her. “You can tell me, bebé. Whatever it is, you can always tell me.” 

“It’s hard.” You mumbled eventually, studying the floor under your feet very closely.  

“What is hard?” 

“Being here.” You admitted. “With your family who all adore you, and they should, it’s just that my family… they don’t… and I just want…” Your voice broke and you slammed your mouth shut, unwilling to allow yourself to break down again. 

“Amor,” Alexia breathed, engulfing you once more in a tight hug. “I know. It is not fair the way they treat you, I am so sorry. It makes sense that this is hard, I understand.” 

You held tight to your girlfriend, letting the smell of her perfume wash over you. Alexia always knew what to say. Always knew how to make you feel better. You didn’t deserve someone as good as her, you were sure of that. As if reading your thoughts, Alexia leaned away from the hug and cradled your face in her hands. 

“Let’s go home. I have a surprise for you there.” Her face was so earnest and hopeful, you felt your heart melt. 

“But your family–”

“They will understand, and I am pretty sure they will not even notice us leave anyway, it is so loud in here, everyone loves to hear the sound of their own voice.” With a fond roll of her eyes and a half smile, Alexia had you convinced. She made sure the makeup that had run while you cried was wiped off your face, before expertly leading you out of the house. As she said, most of her family was too busy chatting to notice Alexia pulling you through the crowd, though she did stop to say goodbye to her mother. Eli gave you a tight hug, sending the two of you on your way with a large shopping bag full of wrapped gifts. 

It didn’t seem to bother Alexia, leaving early. In fact, she seemed so excited about whatever surprise she had for you at home that she was practically bouncing in the driver’s seat. Her excitement remained all the way home, until you were sitting on the sofa in your shared apartment, hands dutifully covering your eyes. 

There was some rustling in the front hall closet, what sounded like a box falling from a shelf and Alexia’s voice quietly swearing. You smiled to yourself, hearing her footsteps approach, before something was placed in your lap. 

“Okay! Open!” Alexia sang, sitting on the edge of the coffee table just in front of you. Opening your eyes, you found a gift bag resting in your lap, puffy as though it was a bit too small for whatever was inside, tissue paper haphazardly covering the opening of the bag. “Come on! Open!” 

You chuckled, pulling the tissue paper out of the reindeer covered bag, and reaching in. Before you had even processed the fabric in your hands, Alexia was leaning in to kiss you, bursting with eagerness. 

“It is matching Christmas pajamas!” She burst out, grinning from ear to ear as you unfolded the red and white plaid pajama pants, white long sleeve shirts with a well decorated christmas tree adorning the front. 

You couldn’t help but match her energy, smiling back at her as she explained herself. 

“I looked up Christmas traditions we could start, just ourselves. I have a whole list, and this is the first thing on the list. New matching pajamas every Christmas Eve. A new… our family tradition.” 

It shouldn’t have surprised you, that Alexia thought of you as her family, but maybe you just weren’t expecting anyone to choose you when your family wouldn’t even do that. You dropped the pajamas into your lap, pulling her in for a soft kiss. “You’re the sweetest. I love it. And I love you.” 

“I love you more.” Alexia whispered, kissing you again before pulling you to your feet. “Let’s put them on and watch a Christmas movie!” 

It didn’t matter that Alexia didn’t particularly care for Christmas movies. Not when she was waiting for you on the bed, her set of pajamas looking adorable on her. Her fading blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun, and her face broke into a massive smile when she saw you in your set of pajamas. 

And as you laid in Alexia’s arms, plaid pajama covered legs tangled together as a Christmas movie played on the TV, it didn’t matter so much that you didn’t have your family to celebrate with. You had Alexia, and that was more than enough. 

—

have not proofread this so pls tell me if you find a typo

i hope you enjoy! i know the holidays aren't always enjoyable for everyone, and honestly it's gonna be a weird one for me, but i hope everyone feels loved and appreciated this year.

[mossangelll]

stray cat rescue

vi x reader

i’m so down bad for vi i could write like 20 absolutely filthy fics about her I NEEEED HER… ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

tw: detailed smut, reader is fem - 18+ mdni!!

Strobe lights flashed in the dingy club as you sobbed hysterically into your watered down martini.

Life was going great! You got a new job, adopted a cat and were even looking for a house with your boyfriend - you hated to brag but you knew you had hit the jackpot.

And then you found out your boyfriend of two years cheated on you. Two long years down the drain in the blink of an eye.

That was that. Your perfectly curated life was crumbling before your eyes and there was nothing you could do to make the situation better. No matter how loudly you protested, your friends, bless them, decided to drag you out of your depression-induced hibernation in order to lift your spirits. Needless to say, the night was a major fail.

You down the rest of your drink and stand up from the booth, resigning yourself to another night of sobbing into your poor cat’s fur.

Before you could make your escape, you bumped into a charismatic, muscular, attractive, no, very attractive woman - Vi.

She had a wicked smile and cocky demeanour as she told you she’d been watching you for a while, that she hated to see a pretty woman cry, that she knew the best way to cure a broken heart.

Now your makeup was running for a whole other reason.

Vi’s strong arms had manoeuvred you into a mating press, ankles dangling precariously over her shoulders as she lay off the edge of the bed and you watched her tattooed biceps bulge under the low light. Shit, she was so hot that just watching her made you wetter by the second.

“Fuck, princess,” she groaned into your pussy, the vibrations forcing another wail from you, making your eyes roll back into your head, “you’re absolutely dripping wet. Think you can squirt for me again, cutie?”

Her own low pants grew louder as she lifted her head from between your legs to look up at you. Her chiseled face was flushed a deep red, eyes glazed over and, fuck, the lower half of her face was drenched in your juices. If you didn’t know any better, you would think she was the one getting ate out.

But you weren’t one to question a gift horse in the mouth so you settled for roughly tugging tufts of her cropped hair in your hands to guide her mouth back to where it belonged. She groaned at this and you felt another pang of arousal hit deep within your core.

Her mouth returned to your sopping cunt but instead of eating you out like you hoped, her scarred lips left teasing, feather light kisses on the insides of both your sensitive thighs before plunging two thick digits inside of you without warning.

“Shit, you’re so tight, cupcake.” She hissed as her wrist flexed from the force of pistoning inside and out, fingers curling up towards the spongy spot with a come-hither motion that had you drooling from the mind numbing pleasure.

“Right there! Please, please don’t stop!” You keened and writhed, unable to keep still which made Vi chuckle, dark and full of sensuality.

“Can’t believe your ex just gave this up. Sure as hell can’t complain though.”

A rough hand manhandled your left tit, squishing and squeezing it in the palm of her large hand before she flicked your pebbled nipples, making you squeal in surprise.

Her eyes shot up from where they were glued to your heaving chest and a devious smirk spread across her face. She quickly yanked out the hand that was finger fucking you, blue eyes rolling playfully at your noise of indignation, to give attention to your neglected tit.

“You’re such a slut for me, crying out for me like this and I barely had to touch you.”

Her wet fingers left behind a trail of your sticky arousal that she promptly licked up so she could lather wet, sloppy kisses all over your chest that turned into sharp nips when she reached your delicate neck - you moaned breathlessly at every kiss and the thought of the dark marks you would find blooming tomorrow, only having enough energy to stroke her silky hair.

Once she had her fill, she dove back down to continue lapping up your wetness like a man starved. The way her tongue flattened against your crying pussy to lick a wide trail up to your clit made you feel like you were on the verge of passing out, nothing could feel better than this. Mounting pleasure built up inside of you, snaking up from the tips of your toes all the way to the top of your head like a pressurised can under a flame - you’re all but ready to burst.

But then she pursed her lips around your swollen clit and sucked down so hard your vision went white and you were convinced you must be convulsing as you came so forcefully.

You knew you squirted again as Vi’s pleased chuckles and loud slurps were a good enough tell tale sign for you - where had Vi been your whole life?

Her gravelly voice called out to you from beyond the thick fog that smothered you, the only thing that tethered you to the waking world, borderline snarling in the throes of satisfaction, “Think your little boyfriend could’ve fucked your brains out like this? Bet he didn’t know the first thing about making you feel good, doll.”

You started to come down from your high, thighs trembling and so, so sticky. The world had finally stopped spinning and you think it must be over, that you can turn over and go to sleep content and happy for the first night in a very long time.

It seemed that Vi had other plans as in your haze, she had enough time to put on an impressive a strap-on. Well, know you had proof she definitely wasn’t overcompensating for anything.

You gawked at the sheer size of the strap but somehow your pussy had became slicker at the thought of being pounded by her huge dick. Her sharp teeth flashed ravenously in the dim room as her well defined and sweaty body loomed over you- it was clear she was proud at the cum-drunk reaction she elicited from you.

She leaned down and tapped the side of your cheek and you instinctively opened your mouth, watching in morbid curiosity as she spat inside and claimed another part of your body. You yelped as she easily flipped you over and positioned you in doggy with a warm hand on the small of your back to arch it further.

You felt hotter by the second and another gush of arousal leaked from your pulsating core as you felt her plush tits and hard body drape across your back. Her hair tickled the side of your love-stained neck and you could feel the faintest touch of her chapped lips against the shell of your ear.

There, she whispered so lowly you had to strain just to make out the words, “God, I love ruining innocent girls like you that don’t know the first thing about a good fuck.”

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-two —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 5.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

B

"Hold him close to your chest, or he'll jump out of your arms. Here—like this."

Blue gently cradles the rabbit, then carefully tucks him into Ari's arms, guiding his hands to scoop under Grim's fluffy rear. She can't help but find it amusing that the boy who had taken her riding on such a large animal yesterday looks so wary holding a harmless bunny. A giggle bubbles up, and she bites her lip to keep it in.

"He's so... squirmy."

Blue keeps her hand on Grim, reassuring both the rabbit and him. "He's just ready for his breakfast. Want to help me feed him?"

"Sure."

Blue leads Ari to the hutch where the other rabbits are. She explains her morning routine, showing him how to supply the rabbits with enough grass, leaves, and berries to keep them healthy and plump. Not long ago, she was explaining this to Twix—the very person she forgot to say good morning to in a rush to find Ari outside. This time around, she wonders if Ari is genuinely interested or just being polite. She finds herself stealing glances at his face, studying his expressions perhaps longer than she should. His almond-shaped eyes and dark pink lips catch her attention.

He's cute.

It's not the first time the thought has crossed her mind since these strangers appeared. Cute like the men in her magazines, though he's not quite a man. Not in the way Ghost is. But he's taller than her by a head and two years older, evident in the notch on his throat and the deeper timbre of his voice.

But it doesn't matter. They are only here for a few days.

Blue closes the hutch and rocks on the soles of her boots. "Well, that was probably boring, huh? We could, um, go hunting if you want. Or to the pond. It's fun to swim there. Or maybe—" She pauses, mentally sifting through the limited activities available, frustration creeping in as none of them seem particularly impressive.

"This wasn't boring. Now I know rabbits are just as friendly as horses." He smiles.

"They are... except when Grim gets mad. Then he can be a bit of a jerk. Like if you accidentally step on his tail."

"I'd be pretty pissed if someone stepped on my tail, too."

"You don't have a tail."

"It's just a joke."

"Oh..." she fidgets with a strand of hair. "Right."

"The pond sounds good. It is fucking hot." Ari blows out a breath and swipes at the back of his neck.

"I know. So hot. Hot as balls."

Ari raises an amused brow. "Yeah, uh, hot as balls. Are you allowed to go by yourself, or do we need to ask your dad?"

"I get to do what I want," she lies easily with a shrug. "Buuuuut, we can ask Twix to go with us."

As long as Twix is with her, she suspects she can get away with not asking Ghost, who luckily is hunting with his old captain. It's not that he seems distrusting with these people as he did those first few months with Twix. Rather—she isn't thrilled about him knowing every little thing she does. She's never had anything just to herself. 

Twix is sitting on the porch, looking rather deep in thought as she skins a squirrel. Her hair is long, curtaining her face. When Blue asks if she wants to go to the pond, she agrees easily, claiming she has been meaning to cut her hair anyway with the encroaching warmth of summer. Nereida joins, too. 

Even early, the air is sticky, and the pond is cool and inviting. Ari rips his shirt off and jumps in without even a second to waste. Blue usually swims in her underwear and shirt, but she hesitates with her thumb in the belt loops of her jeans. She didn't consider that he would see her in her underwear. 

A soft touch to her shoulder. It's Twix. "Want me to grab you shorts real quick?"

"Um... yes. Yes please."

She changes into the shorts behind a tree. There is an odd pit in her stomach when she gets in the water. She doesn't quite know what it is, but it's similar to how she feels when she's scared sometimes. Ghost always tells her fear is a useless thing. It doesn't keep you alive. So she ignores it, shoves it down deep, and swims over to Ari with a purposeful splash that even wets Twix, who sits at the edge sharpening her knife.

"Damn. That's gonna cost you."

A splash is given in return, and then they are playing. High noon bounces shimmering light off the water as she tries to keep up with him, but at one point he sneaks up on her and she ends up with a mouthful. Nereida spends her time picking at some bunches of rosemary and Twix cuts her hair. But Blue doesn't notice any of that too much. When the water stills and they pause to catch their breath, Ari climbs onto a rock and shakes out his wet hair. She is quick to find a perch beside him. Absentmindedly, she pinches the bottom of her wet shirt to keep it from sticking to her chest.

"It's nice to have some place to swim so close by. Back at our old camp, there was lake but it was a few miles away, so my mom rarely let me go."

"I'm sorry, you know. About your mom. Mine is dead, too."

He half-smiles. "Thanks. I don't think about it too much anymore. My uncle and I have always been close so it helped to have him there." He nudges her shoulder. "You're damn lucky to have such a cool dad, huh?"

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, that guy is a beast. My uncle says they called him Ghost because no one could ever see him coming before suddenly, they were dead." 

"Oh, yeah, he is super cool," she quickly agrees. "He has taught me a lot."

"Shit, really?"

Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she shrugs to feign indifference. "I know how to throw knives pretty well."

"I gotta see that." His smirk etches a light dimple into his cheek. Then, his eyes flash behind her. "So what's up with his girlfriend?"

"Huh?" A divot forms between her brows before she follows his gaze, landing on Twix, whose hair is now just past her shoulders. She is wetting it, running her fingers through the newly cut strands. "Oh—Twix. That is not his girlfriend. She is my friend."

"You mean they don't sleep together?"

"Like in the same bed?"

"That's usually where people fuck, yeah."

He seems ready to laugh. She frowns, head tilting as confusion hums in her chest. "You mean like sex?"

He nods. "You know what that is, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I know all about it."

"You know they're probably doing it, right?"

"Ghost and Twix? No—no," she forces a laugh. "I mean, sometimes I catch him staring at her all weird. But I don't think—I mean, they hardly like each other and she is my friend, really, not his. He used to make me stay away from her, even. But I mean, they do spend a lot of time together now. It's usually to practice fighting and defense. Not to have...sex."

"Don't they share a room?"

"Just right now, because you guys are here."

Ari chuckles. "You really think they aren't fucking in there? She's really pretty. There's no way they aren't."

Blue looks back at Twix. Blue's fingers curl into the soaked fabric of her top. Her eyes flick back to him. "She would've told me if they were."

"If you say so."

---

T

Your thumb throbs in rhythm with the steady pump of Kyle's arms. Despite pressing it into your palm to dull the pain, the ache persists. You had nicked it while sawing off your hair, and now the taste of blood lingers in your mouth. You were still lapping at the painful pulse when the three men arrived to the pond, carrying a neon orange inflatable raft. They want to test it out on the water before embarking on the 35-kilometer journey across the channel. 

It is the third day of their presence and you can honestly say you've grown more comfortable, given that Kyle has gone hunting with you a few times now. He is easy to talk to, along with Nereida. Price—however—doesn't seem intrigued by you, or maybe you are insignificant in comparison to the rest that is on his mind. That's fair. You don't all need to be friends.

They've been spending most of their time gathering food. Ghost has been helping Price hunt deer to skin and dry into jerky they can take with them. Nereida showed you a patch of wild strawberries she found yesterday, boiling them down into jams before canning them. By having food with them, they will save time from having to hunt along the way. In perfect conditions, it would be a straight path, and they could make it to the Swiss mountains within a month or two. But it won't be a straight path, and obstacles are bound to hinder them.

Kyle audibly growls and straightens, wiping at his percolated brow. "This chamber just isn't inflating."

"It must have a hole somewhere. Check the seams," Price says.

Ghost flips the half-filled raft over with ease, running his fingers along the PVC. "Here." He taps what must be a minuscule puncture because you can't see it from where you sit. 

They patch it up with the little adhesive they have. The unease is noticeable as Kyle keeps pumping in air; they only have enough to cover a few holes, if they come across more. Finally, the six-person raft is full and they toss it onto the pond. Just the sight gets you thinking of all the variables they have to think of on the open water: the weather, currents, temperature. You had a friend in high school who swam across it once. She didn't get even halfway but having to pulled out, vomiting, and near-hypothermia. Open seawater is different than a pool. Unpredictable and quick to change.

"It seems sturdy." Nereida winds an arm around her husband's waist, pressing a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Don't worry about it."

"As long as it stays sturdy."

"It will," she assures him.

The cut has crusted over by the time evening settles and you have to will yourself not to pick at it. You find yourself alone with the horse, watching the sun set behind the trees, as everyone else eats. 

"You probably don't like being tied up here, huh? You'd rather be running around." The coarse mane engrosses your fingers. Cherry bobs her head and a wet muzzle brushes your elbow. It tickles and you smile softly. "I wonder what will happen to you once they leave," you whisper. "Horses can't fit in a raft, huh?"

"No, they can't."

A hand presses into her neck beside yours, the person's arm extending over your shoulder. You crane your neck at Kyle but his eyes are on the animal, thoughtful, brows lowered. You wet your lips and step to the side to bring more space between your bodies. 

"Not hungry either?" you ask.

Finally he looks at you, lips quirked at the side. "Nah. I had a big lunch." He stops petting her and crosses his arms, chin tilting. "Ever ridden a horse before?"

"Once or twice. As a kid."

His eyes almost lean dark green in the cast of orange light, but it must be a mere illusion. "Care to go for a ride?"

His eyebrow rises expectantly. You glance back at the cabin and then at Cherry. "Why not?"

He instructs you how to get on. You grip the knob of the saddle and flex your core, hoisting yourself with more strength than you've had to use in a few days. Kyle sits behind you and grips the reins after untying her. The last time you were on a horse was for a friend's birthday party; you trekked through a ranch on a white pony. Cherry is much taller than that one was, or maybe you're not fond of being so high up. You thread your fingers through her mane.

It is a silent ride at first as you try to ignore the sting on your butt, unused to firm leather seat. He must notice your discomfort because he tells you to relax and lean back. You do, until your spine brushes against his chest. It helps a little.

Cherry trots calmly through the trees, towards the circle of stumps that marks the east. 

"Do you think she will be able to take care of herself?" you break the quiet. 

"I'm sure she will be fine. Smart girl, huh, Cherry?"

The sun has disappeared but it isn't quite dark yet. "Are you scared?"

A breathy chuckle emits from behind you. He must realize what you are referring to—scared for the journey. "Yeah, always. I mean—I'm scared about Ari. He's the last family I got, and as old as he thinks he is, he's still young and naive. I still have to make choices for him."

"I was terrified of losing Joseph," you admit, and swallow. "He was so young and fragile. It felt like...like trying to keep an egg from cracking when your hands are made of stone. But at least I never had to take him to another country."

"That was your nephew? Joseph?"

You nod. 

"Tell me about him."

You rack your brain. "Well, he was seven. And he..." You smile to yourself. "He was the pickiest eater in the world, even when we were all starving. I could not get him to eat meat unless I practically burned it. And he liked to look at bugs. I did, too, when I was young. I used to dig up worms when it rained to show him." He hums a gentle laugh behind you. You find yourself lost in the thought of it for a second. "Sometimes I...I think about how once I die, there will be no one left to remember those little things about him. Then, he will be completely gone, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him this. You shake your head. "Sorry."

"Don't be. We gotta talk about shit like that or else we'll go crazy."

"I'm pretty sure I'm already crazy."

"Probably." A deer passes to the left and Cherry startles, but he is quick to soothe her with a flick of the reins and a stern—easy. She settles. "Are you scared?" he asks after a moment.

"Of what?"

"Of traveling so far."

"Well, I don't know if Ghost..." you trail off, absorbing the tone of his voice. You stiffen. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I mean how we're all leaving in a month."

"Wait—stop." You grip his hand over the rein with more force than necessary, urging him to bring Cherry to a halt. You twist your spine and gape at him. "What are you talking about?"

He eyes you with a frown, and rubs his neck. "Shit. I thought he already told you."

"No, he didn't. Tell me," you demand.

He clears his throat. "He, uh, agreed to come this morning, but only if we take another month to prepare and shit. Get his daughter ready, sort things out."

You try not tremble in anger as his words sink in, clenching your hands as your breath picks up. "Take me back," you breathe out, brain racing. "I want to go back now."

The ride back is silent. You feel shaken. Your nail digs deep into the nick on your thumb unthinkingly until there is a smear of blood over your fingers. The others are getting ready for bed when the two of you return, moon bright. You bite your tongue until Ghost leaves to his room, then you follow him, closing the door as gently as you can behind you.

He is halfway through peeling off his socks and stuffing them in his boots when you approach. "What happened to being a man of your word?" 

He looks up, resting his palms on his parted knees, looking far too relaxed for your liking. 

When he doesn't respond, you add, "You were supposed to tell me. You said you fucking would."

Your voice is low but harsh.

He stands, a calm understanding washing through his eyes. "I was about to tell you."

You throw up your arms but try to stay quiet. "Bullshit. You're just saying that now. You've had all day to tell me."

"I was waiting for the right time."

"You think I can't handle it," you accuse, an ugly snarl on your face. "That I don't deserve to be apart of these conversations even after everything I have done for you, and for her. I saved her life! You get pissed at me for not telling you about stupid things, meanwhile you don't communicate something so important like we are leaving with them in a month to fucking Switzerland. Does Blue know? Or do you keep your own blood in the dark, too?"

He growls quietly and takes hold of your chin, tilting your gaze to his. His touch is firm but far from bruising. "I am not lying to you. I wanted to have a conversation right now, where it could just be us. And no—I haven't told her. How I explain this to my child is not your concern." There is a command in his voice that forces you to calm down some, but your breath is still warm through your nose. He moves his hand to gently thumb a strand of shortened hair off your forehead, staring at it for a second, before gripping your chin again. "There is nothing I think you cannot handle. Now, who told you about this?"

Blotches of red crawl over your cheeks. "It doesn't...it doesn't matter."

He is visibly unsatisfied. He taps his thumb against your chin. "Tell me."

"It was...Kyle," you concede in an exhale. "He assumed I already knew."

His eyes darken. "It wasn't his place to assume."

"He didn't mean to." You reach up to pry his hand off, and he relents, leaving your jaw feeling sore. You rub it. "Why a month?" You try to change the topic.

He takes a deep, steadying breath and looks away, jaw flexing. "She needs time. I want to prepare her for all possible outcomes. I still don't think she is ready, but that doesn't matter. There won't be another opportunity like this in the future. I have to make her ready." He sits down on the edge of the bed and sits his elbows on his thighs, collecting his thoughts before adding, "And the weather is a big factor. Just because we have means to get across the water doesn't mean it will happen safely. The current is most predictable in July and August. We will wait until then."

You mentally sort through everything he is saying, willing yourself not to linger on the fact that you are beyond scared. Scared to leave the place you have finally felt safe in. Scared to clearly be the odd one out again. A tag-along. Everyone else in this group has a loved one looking out for them. You have yourself. You don't know if you have Ghost, really—not when Blue is the one he loves. His allegiance can only go so far.

"Okay," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. "A month, then. What about shelter? The nights will be our most vulnerable."

"We'll look for the safest places for the night. There'd be seven of us, so plenty of eyes to keep watch."

"And what if we run into a horde?"

"Well, we have plenty of ammo now for that." He flicks his eyes up to yours. "Thanks to you."

You nibble your cheek, palming your chest as if to calm your heart. 

"A month," he reminds you. "We will account for everything."

"Okay," you say again. There is a tinge of embarrassment over your outburst, but he doesn't seem fazed, as if you hadn't just barged in the room yelling at him. "Okay."

A click of his tongue. "Any more questions?"

"Not...not for now, I guess."

A few silent beats pass. The tension has left the room, leaving you with a wave of fatigue. Ghost must notice because he rises, gesturing to the bed. "Go on, then." 

The bed is yours again. Too exhausted to question it, you slip under the quilt, curling into a fetal position by the slanted ceiling. It's best to enjoy the warmth before you're back on the move. A week journeying through the woods was the worst you'd ever endured, barely surviving. Now, it'll be months, or however long it takes to reach the goddamn Swiss mountains.

The light flicks off. There is a groan in the mattress and heady warmth spills over you. Your eyes fly open. "What are you doing?"

"Getting some sleep."

You turn around to see him lying beside you, flat on his back, with his arms crossed behind his head. "Together?"

"Clearly neither of us fancies the floor."

You flush, feeling his firm thigh brush against yours. "Just... keep to your side."

"I'll be a gentleman, if you're worried."

"I'm not," you mumble. "How do you even sleep in that thing, by the way?"

"Like a baby."

"Don't you think it's weird that Kyle has seen you without it and I haven't?"

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Twix."

"And mental sanity doesn't suit you, Simon."

"Don't recall giving you permission to use that name."

"What, only your old captain gets to use it? How close were the two of you, exactly?"

Teasing him feels better than you're willing to admit.

He grunts. A pillow is thrashed against the side of your face. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir," you bite into the pillow.

Your instinct is to flinch closer to the edge, though it is difficult given the small size of the bed and the unnatural size of him. Your knees float off the mattress. Still, his sprawled-out position leaves points of connection. The bastard. Your back, his elbow. Your feet, his calf. Small touches that do a surprisingly good job at soothing the mess in your brain.

---

You awake. Warm and rested.

Safe.

Morning light streams in, turning the backs of your eyelids red. Your face nudges forward until your nose brushes against fabric—a shirt. Awareness settles in slowly. Your toes stretch and brush against another set of toes. You realize you’re curled close against someone.

He’s still on his back, his right arm draped across your waist, fingertips resting on your exposed hip. Your breath hitches, and you do your best not to flinch. Your face is nuzzled into his chest, close enough to discern ribs from muscle. His steady breathing and gentle rumbles indicate he’s still asleep. You’re ready to peel yourself away when you notice your leg is on top of his, practically trapping him.

Fuck.

You stay still, devising a plan to extricate yourself without him noticing the position you're in. Then, in one swift motion, you leap up, removing all contact, and breathe hard as if ripped from a nightmare.

His eyes open and he swears. "Jesus. What was that?"

"Just a dream," you lie. "Sorry for waking you."

You jump out of the bed and practically run out before he can say anything; before he can realize how odd it'd be for you to have a dream when you haven't had one since... since staying in his room.

You lock yourself in the bathroom and grip the counter, knuckles whitening in the attempt to erode the feel of his warmth that seems to linger. A lump is forced down your throat as you lean back against the wall and close your eyes for a moment. When they reopen, you look down and lift your shirt, only to find the indent of strong fingertips brandishing your plush hip. Jesus. Your stomach knots and unknots. 

"You didn't like that," you whisper to yourself. You brush your thumb over the marks, gently at first, then palming them hard as if to erase them. You drop your shirt and look at the mirror. "You did not like that."

Before someone can stumble upon you talking to yourself, you comb your fingers through tousled strands and slip out. It seems most others are awake. How could you and Ghost have slept so long? Usually, the two of you are up with the sun. 

"Hey. Morning," you greet when you spot Blue on the porch, belly down, as she plays checkers with Kyle's nephew. She glances over her shoulder. Something in her bright eyes seems...off, but you can't put your finger on it.

"Hi. Is Ghost up yet?"

"Hm? Oh, uh—not sure. I didn't check, really."

"Okay." She looks back at the game and says nothing else. You feel as though she saw right through you. Or maybe that boy has told her everything. Surely he knows about Ghost's plans? Kyle had to have told him. Maybe that is why Blue seems upset, but like he said, it isn't your place to say anything. 

You are itching for a hunt. 

It feels urgent, for some reason. Like you want to get out of here before Ghost can be up, too. You find Kyle and he suggests that the two of you take Cherry so you can get go further south where he claims there is a meadow to look for deer. It is difficult to ride with him behind you and a bow on your back, so he wears it for you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head.

"Awfully quiet this morning. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I talked to him," is what you give. "Last night."

"Ah. How'd that go?"

"It was fine. I mean, I am getting used to the idea."

"That's good. It'll be worth it, you know. Once we get there. Finally get to have a semblance of a normal life."

A normal life. You almost snort at the thought. 

The morning grows longer, and not even the haircut can save you from the sweat that gathers. You make it to the meadow after an hour of horseback that leaves your thighs bristling. He helps you down and ties Cherry to a tree. You wade through tall, bright grasses that sway in the humid breeze. It looks vaguely familiar, stirring something in your gut that has your boots frozen for a moment. 

Kyle looks back at you, noticing that you've stopped following. "Good?"

"I just—I think I've been here once before. When I was on my own. I came this way." Your eyes scan the surrounding trees, where the meadow feeds into the forest, and an a gnarly oak with distinctive branches catches your eye. "I definitely have been here. I slept in that tree."

You push into the meadow, shaking off the memory. Staying close to Kyle, you listen as he lightly shares memories from the military, careful not to startle any potential deer. He talks about his time in Afghanistan, mentioning that his brother was also there, but at a different base. Kyle didn't even know his brother had died until weeks later because he was out in the field.

"After Afghanistan is when I met Ghost the first time."

"Oh?"

He nods. "He was my lieutenant when I went to Russia. I was scared shitless of him at first. I mean, he had a bit of a reputation and I was only 22."

"He was good at what he did," you say.

"More than that. People said he was up to some shit outside of what he did, but that was just rumors."

You think you spot a streak of gold through the grass, but it is just a stalk of wild wheat. You look back at him. "What do you mean?"

"May have heard a thing or two about him killing a guy off-duty. Of course, unconfirmed, otherwise he wouldn't have been enlisted again."

He killed someone? Like actual murder? You're about to ask more, your mind flashing back to your face pressed against him an hour earlier. Then you spot a deer. Kyle sees it too and motions for you to stay quiet. Your boots are nearly silent as you draw an arrow, squinting to see clearer. There are three deer: an adult female and two fawns. You draw the string and aim for the adult, the easier target.

"I'll get the doe," you whisper.

"Gotcha."

The beady black eyes turn your way, and you hesitate for a moment. There's movement, a flash of grey, and the doe snaps her eyes in another direction. What is she looking at? Your brows furrow, arrow following her gaze, when the answer appears: a Grey launching toward the deer. The three deer run off, and you release the arrow, aiming for the Grey's head instead.

"Motherfucker. Ruined the kill," Kyle mutters.

You weave toward the corpse, surprised to see such a fast one alone, indicating a new infection. The stench is pungent, enveloping you in a thick cloud. You shudder. The Grey writhes, your arrow lodged in its neck instead of its brain. You draw another arrow and aim when a hand suddenly grips your shoulder.

"Twix," Kyle breathes in your ear.

"What?" 

You look away from the Grey and follow Kyle's gaze, your eyes widening in horror as you realize the terrible smell isn't from this single creature. It's hundreds. A dark, grey mist that unfurls through the trees. A growing chorus of agony as their tattered bodies collide—some limping, others hurtling forward in a grotesque dance, but all converging on the meadow.

[jinxvex]

heyy! if u take requests i was wondering if you would make an enemy sevika x reader, where they treat each other like shit until sevika has enough and fucks the shit out of reader 💪😊

♱ enemy. (enemy!sevika x reader) ♱

enemies to lovers is lowkey my fave trope so, let’s go!!

also sorry i haven’t posted! finals week… 🫠😓

cw: nsfw, kink city LOL!! sevika is v rough + punishes reader, possessiveness, BDSM elements, BREEDING KINK (oops), name-calling (slut, whore, bitch, etc), degradation/praise, cursing, arguing, a tiny bit angsty, spanking, she slaps your cunt once, choking, hair-pulling, doggy position, she eats you out!! it's sweet towards the end dw!

there's def more but OOP-

wc: 4.2K! (oops)

sevika hates you.

1. she hates the way your hips sway when you walk.

she’s definitely ALWAYS looking at your ass.

2. she hates how you talk and how you giggle under your breath when you laugh at something you shouldn’t. your voice sounds like music, like wind chimes in the spring that cause her vision to blur.

3. she hates the way your skin glows in the sunlight.

4. she hates how you dress and style your hair. you stand out. you personally customize your clothing, adding your own detailing on platform boots, jeans, jewelry, belts, accessories, tops, and jackets. your uniqueness annoys her beyond belief.

“what a fuckin’ show-off! this isn’t a fashion show,” she mutters under her breath to get a rise out of you.

5. she hates the way you talk back to her, even when she starts an argument first.

“well maybe you could learn something, you wear the same shit like… every day,” you respond briskly, already sick of her berating you as you’ve just walked through the doors of silco’s office.

she’s older than you, you should show some respect! you act so high and mighty like nobody can crack that tough persona you put on to protect yourself from the dark and dangerous streets of zaun.

she scoffs. her thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of her nose to alleviate the stress you’ve subjected her to. she cannot believe this.

“see? this… child is so incompetent! fuckin’ impossible to work with! she’s probably late to this meeting because she’s too busy playing dress up to actually do her job.” she directs towards you although not looking at you, opting to look at the tall chair covering silco’s body as she sits in the chair across from his.

silco sighs, clearly annoyed at both of your antics. he swivels around in his chair to face you both.

“actually, she was doing something i assigned her to. last minute, but she always gets the job done.”

sevika’s eyes flicker to you, and you smirk at her assumption that you were accidentally late.

she scoffs again and drags her grey-ish eyes back to silco as she leans to the left, almost trying to get away from you standing at her right with your arms crossed.

“you see… you two are my best. i cannot afford to have you both acting like children when doing business. it could threaten everything i’ve—we’ve built. one wrong move could tarnish this.”

you and sevika stay quiet as you avoid eye contact with each other, you taking a newfound interest in the bookshelf as sevika’s eyes burn holes into the ground. you knew deep down that silco was right.

“it's time you’ve both gotten along, for all of our sakes. don’t disappoint me again.”

…

you haven’t seen sevika since silco’s ‘lecture’ he gave you two a couple of days ago.

it's evening in zaun, streets and bars filling with people as the night threatens to begin.

you sat on the couch in the living room of your tiny yet, surprisingly homey apartment. your legs resting on the coffee table and you busy munching on cheap snacks, reflecting on the conversation that took place not too long ago. you were livid.

i mean, what else more did he want from you!

sevika was impossible. you tried to get along with her in the beginning but no matter what, she hated you!

she constantly finds new ways to poke fun at you, belittle you, and insult your intelligence. she obviously thinks you aren’t worthy of being a part of silco’s inner circle and that offends you.

and yes, she’s incredibly hot, but all of that was overshadowed the moment she decided you were a piece of gum on her boot!

you sigh incredulously, “damn… i need a drink.”

…

a few minutes later, you’re walking into the last drop and making a beeline for the bar.

as you sit down, your hands graze the edges of the countertop and you close your eyes briefly to let out a breath you’ve held in your throat for…

who knows how long?

that garners the attention of thieram, the kind bartender whom you’d had polite conversation with in the past. you’d taken quite a liking to his kind personality in the past.

“what would you like tonight, miss?” he smiles at you.

as you rummage through your mind for something to order, there isn’t much.

you aren’t a big drinker so it was hard to decipher what was good and what wasn’t because you simply don’t know.

“she’ll have the whiskey, best you've got.” you hear a gruff voice come from behind you. you hear the person’s rough steps come to a stop beside you and they sit.

“ugh.” you scoff out loud and roll your eyes dramatically as you avoid looking in her direction to your right.

sevika.

“coming right up…” thieram, not even wanting to know, swiftly walks off to make your drink.

“what do you want?!” you huff out in annoyance as you finally bring your head up to make eye contact with her.

“nothin’… just enjoying you strugglin’ to order. jus’ was painful to watch, doll.”

your eyebrows raise as your mouth opens and closes, you not exactly knowing how to respond. especially to "doll".

although her tone indicates that she was merely joking, you retaliate against her anyway for the way she’s treated you in the past.

“i- you know what?! if you’ve just come to gloat and make me feel like an idiot just go right ahead and fuck off!” you state. causing a vein to pop out of your forehead and your left eye to twitch in pure anger.

“i’m not in the mood for your shit” you restate your previous point.

“y’know? you’re such a pain in my ass. always bitching and complaining about everything, always in the way, you’re unbelievable.”

you pause your movements, surprised at the lengths she’s going to make you feel terrible.

“i think you look weak.” she finishes, smirking as your eyes threaten to spill with tears out of rage.

“you’re such. a. fucking. bitch.” you emphasize the b in the word bitch as you leap off your chair and stomp out of the bar, trudging back to the comfort of your own home.

thieram walks back over to the side of the bar you were just at and his face scrunches in confusion.

“uh… where’d she go?” he questions as he raises his hands, one hand occupied with your drink.

sevika is still sitting with her mech hand pressing into a tight fist on the counter and her human hand tightly squeezing the bridge of her nose.

she makes up her mind as she stands up and makes her way to your apartment, already having memorized where you lay your head at night.

tonight, you’ll learn respect. obedience.

…

you’ve just made it back to your apartment and you’re slamming the door shut. as you pace back and forth from your kitchen to your living room you’re met with complete and utter silence that taunts you.

“how do i let her get to me? every. single. time.” you’re thinking, mentally cursing yourself for being so stupid. for letting her see you upset.

you hear a loud knock at the door and you pause all moments, as you make your way to answer it, your thoughts race with ideas of who may be at your doorstep at this time of night.

you open the door and you’re met with none other than the sight of sevika. both of her hands clench into fists at her sides as she gazes at you darkly.

it’s almost eerie, her silence. you sense something in her demeanor that is different than usual. it feels… scary.

you both say nothing as she pushes her way into your home, back turned to you as she stops in her tracks.

“wha- what the fuck? g-get out!” you scream out.

her head cocks over her shoulder, one eye looking back at you in a silent warning.

you slowly back up against the door as she turns her full body around to corner you against it. her stare pierces deep into your soul, you feel as though a knife has been jabbed into your gut.

sevika is a scary woman. you know you stand no chance against her strength. that frightens you slightly but you hold your head up high and maintain eye contact with her to stand your ground.

her hands are placed on either side of your head, pressing into the rough, wooden texture of the door. you hear the wood creaking when she leans in, nose brushing against yours. the silence is deafening.

"hmm..." she cocks her head to the right, still looking deep into your irises.

"sevika, l-let me go. what are you doing?!" you try to reason with her but she is unwavering as she takes her mech hand and trails it dangerously slowly up your body from your thigh to your bare stomach, then your arms.

it lands on your neck and wraps around it loosely as a scare tactic. it works as your eyes widen and your shaky hands come up to move the machine off you.

your legs start to weaken and your eyebrows furrow as your underwear pools with your desire.

"so fuckin' pathetic, you are..." she growls, tightening around your neck, not too tight. but tight enough to where your breath hitches in your throat and you're slightly gasping for air.

"y'know, was gonna try and get along with you tonight, doll."

the pet name makes the wetness in your panties become unbearable.

she continues, "ordered you a drink, cracked a joke 'n everything..."

"but, you're a brat to your core, aren't you? should make you apologize..."

an idea pops into your head, another way to disrespect her. you ponder in your head about how you shouldn't. against your better judgment, you say it anyway.

"make me, then,” your eyes flicker down to her lips.

her cocky expression falters slightly—her eyes threatening to look down at yours as well. and if looks could kill, you would die instantly.

"show me your fuckin' bedroom. now."

you're then peeling yourself off of the door. she takes her hand off your neck and backs up to let you pass. you drag your feet, walking slowly to irritate her further. she doesn't like that one bit.

you feel a hand brush the back of your head and she's harshly pulling you up against her chest by your hair. you feel her warm breath tickling your ear, getting ready to humiliate you even more.

"f-fuck! ow!" you yelp out in pain.

"nuh-uh. hurry the fuck up. move." she whispers into your ear.

sevika lets you go, roughly pushing your head forward to emphasize her point. you decide not to push her as you speed up.

as you enter your room, you let out a shaky breath, scared yet excited about the events about to take place. you're not facing her when you hear your bedroom door slam shut. you stop dead in your tracks.

"what-uhm, what's gonna happen?" you question.

you gasp out in surprise as she spins you around to face her and pushes you onto the bed. your ass rests on the edge of it and you're sitting up straight. sevika towers over you, way taller than usual. she looks like she could devour you as she's undressing you with her eyes.

"gonna hurt you, sweetheart. gonna punish you for being such a mean little brat." she smushes your cheeks together with one hand, causing your saliva to pool from your mouth and wet your lips.

"should've done this ages ago... maybe you'd be better behaved by now."

"p-please. i-'m sorry."

it kills you inside, that you secretly love this. you secretly love the idea of her touching you. punishing you, hurting you until you’re utterly ruined.

you’ve dreamt about this moment in light of all the arguments, yelling, and fighting.

in one swift movement, she stands you back up and takes your place on the bed looking up at you hungrily.

“bend over my knee,” she demands.

you feign disgust, and fear, “wh-what?! n-no i-”

“lay the fuck down, and bend over my knee before i spank your ass raw.”

you obey. she scoots back further on your bed so you can maneuver your way to lay your stomach across her thighs. your upper body and legs rest on the bed as your ass is slightly positioned in the air.

you can’t see her face, but you know sevika’s smirking as she’s finally got you where she wants you.

she coos at you, tugging slightly at the loose shorts you threw on after you got home from the bar, “look at you in these little fuckin’ shorts, so slutty.”

she slides her hand up your outer thigh, moving closer to your ass.

all of a sudden, she pauses her movements.

she leans down, her mouth next to your ear, “we can stop at any time. jus’ let me know, doll.”

your heart clenches at her words, feeling the intense emotion behind them and now knowing deep down that she doesn’t want to actually hurt you.

it turns you on even more.

“want it vika, p-please.”

she lets out a sound that’s of a groan and a growl, “fuck yeah, baby. gonna punish you—gonna make it hurt,”

“gonna take it? gonna be a good girl for me?”

“ye-yes! yes!”

sevika hooks the fingers of her human and mechanical hand under the waist of your shorts and roughly tugs them to the floor.

“fuck… no panties too? my god,” she admires you.

you say nothing as her hand finds its way back to moving up your thigh and finally grips your ass, kneading the plush flesh.

“gonna actually do anything or?…” you get cocky, too impatient to feel her hands on you.

a loud ‘SMACK!’ sounds throughout the ambient space of your bedroom, the pain searing into the skin of your right asscheek, making you scream out into the bedspread.

“fuckin’ brat, like i said.”

you’re met with another ‘SMACK!’ in the same spot. you scream out again except this time, it sounds a hell of a lot more like a moan.

“can’t believe you’re gettin’ off to this. bein' my little painslut…”

she hits you again, “you like when i hurt you? don’t you, baby?”

“yes!” you’re repeating, face still smushed into the blankets.

“what was that?” she presses further as she tangles her hand into your hair and yanks it upwards.

“f-fuck! yes, yes!”

she spanks you again and again, alternating between each cheek until you’re sobbing.

although she hadn’t spanked you more than 15 times, you felt as though it was 10 times that much.

she’s soon rubbing a soothing hand over the expanse of your ass, attempting to calm the ache in your ass while neglecting the one in your cunt.

“my girl. did so good for me, baby. so, so good.”

she sits you up and props you up next to her. you wince as your ass meets the surface of your bed.

“we’re not done. gonna make this pussy feel so good, i’ve been neglecting her haven’t i?”

“mhm…touch me please.” you’re out of it, eyes lazily gazing into hers.

“suppose i should reward you?”

her hands caress the sides of your neck and she captures your lips in a gentle and passionate kiss.

as her lips meet yours, the world is silent, all you can think of is sevika.

the kiss soon turns sloppier, needier. your tongues clash against one another causing saliva to drip down both of your chins.

it’s disgusting really, the definition of swapping spit.

neither of you seems to care though. you both moan through the kisses, gripping at each other.

she breaks the kiss to tear your shirt off your body.

“such pretty tits… so beautiful.”

you lean in and peck her lips, “want you bad, vika. please just fuck me already,” you beg.

“you’re beggin’ me?”

“yeah,” you respond.

“fuckin’ beggin’ me, huh?”

“fuck yeah, baby,” you respond another time, your bedroom eyes never leaving hers.

this back-and-forth dirty talk makes the both of you so wet, that the need between you increases with each exchange.

“you don’t even realize how much of a whore you sound like when you say that shit, baby."

oh, you know.

“i love it,” she doubles back.

“gonna eat you first, get you ready for my cock.”

you pause.

‘she didn’t… did she?!’ you exclaim in your head, incredibly surprised she brought an entire strap-on to your house.

“mm… back the fuck up, lean up against the headboard.”

you do as she says, spreading your legs for her in the process.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

she kisses down your neck, stomach, and thighs—her mouth now dangerously close to your naked cunt.

“perfect pussy… so pretty and wet.” she blows cold air on it, admiring the way you clench as she does so.

she laughs out loud, “you’re clenching around nothing, baby… you need this dick in you.”

you don’t even notice you’re looking up at the ceiling, you then look down at her between your thighs—you notice her pants are pulled off. her mech hand is gripping her black plastic cock through her boy shorts.

it’s huge. you’re not sure if it can even fit inside you and that makes you crave it more.

you moan at the sight, “mhm! yes! need it in my pussy. wanna cum on it.” you manage out. your brain is mush!

“soon,” she promises.

she suddenly delves into your pussy, tongue experimentally licking around your folds, then your hole, and your clit.

you’re on cloud 9. your cunt twitches with need because you can feel every detail of her mouth dragging along your heat.

your moans are uncontrollable as she’s practically making out with your cunt, her spit drips onto your clean bed as she’s sloppily eating your pussy out.

she’s nasty with it, spitting on it, getting it dripping wet for you to take her.

“fuck! please!! gonna cum!” you yell out.

all of a sudden, you’re met with cold air. and your cunt is met with a thought to be forgotten ‘SMACK!’

you yelp out in pain and pleasure, the mix too overwhelming for your poor pussy to handle.

“you cum when i fuckin’ tell you to. ask me if you can come next time.”

“‘m sorry vika! promise i won't do it a-again.”

“yeah, yeah. turn around.”

you whine at the loss of her mouth on you; it just feels so good. but you listen anyway.

you’re in doggy facing the headband with your back slightly arched as you look back at her behind you.

she lifts her shirt over her head; she has nothing on underneath, giving you a full view of her sculpted abs. you graze them with your fingertips, amazed at how beautiful she is.

“beautiful, gorgeous…” you state to her and your eyes meet hers once again, showing her you mean what you’re saying.

she huffs out in…shyness? she looks down at the bedspread below you two and she tugs down her boy shorts, throwing them next to all of the other clothes that are splayed out on the floor.

“gonna put it inside, alright? gonna make you feel it.”

you look forward and your eyes trace the design of your headboard, anticipating her cock pushing inside of you, anticipating the delicious pain.

she eventually does push the toy inside of you, bottoming out quickly.

she gives you a moment to adjust. you both are breathing heavily and your nimble fingers grip at the sheets, mouth forming into the shape of an o because she’s so fucking deep.

one of her hands comes up to force your face into the pillows. she starts to move her hips slowly.

“fuuuuck, doll. arch that back,” she can feel the slow grind of your hips on her clit as you press back into her and arch slightly.

it’s not enough for her. she presses her other hand into the small of your back to truly get it so she’s as deep as she possibly can go in this position.

“oh my f-fucking god!” you’re moaning into the pillows, still as loud as if you were screaming.

she’s sped up now, her plastic cock digging into you swiftly yet deliberately.

“yeah…arch that shit, gimme that pussy, baby.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re still moaning into the pillow. you can feel every ridge, every detail of her.

your pussy twitches with need, your slick dripping down your thighs, cunt squelching and eyes rolling to the back of your head because of the rough way she’s handling you.

“can feel you around me, i swear. you’re so tight, baby, s-shit…”

she’s bullying your cunt relentlessly and her dirty talk is making you so unbelievably wet.

“you love this dick, don’t you? you love when i fuck this pussy, huh?”

“yes, vika! yes! just like that! love it!”

“say you’re sorry. say you’re sorry for being such a bratty little bitch.”

“hmmph!” you defy her, for fun perhaps.

she slows down tremendously compared to the pace she set before, giving you shallow thrusts to match your attitude.

“say you’re fuckin’ sorry or I’ll make sure this pussy never cums again. you’re only cumming from me, so you’ll do what the fuck i say.”

whew.

“c’mon, baby say you’re sorry so i can give you this dick. gonna make you cream on it so good if you just let go,”

she continues, “i know you want it… know you want it in your guts. know you want my cum in you," she's delirious.

gripping your hip with her free hand and your hair with the other, she lifts your head out of the pillow so she can hear you better.

you cave.

“i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry, baby. i promise i’ll be good! pleeease just fuck me! need you. need your cum…”

she leans down and kisses the small of your back, “see, now how hard was that?!”

she moves her hips at a faster pace than before, seemingly deeper as well. your face has found its way back down, voice muffled into the sheets.

“yeah, baby, take this shit—take it aaaaalll in this fuckin’ pussy. pussy’s so good for me.”

“oh f-fuck, ‘s so deep!” you look back at her once again. her teeth are biting into her bottom lip, hips snapping against your ass as she stares down at you wildly, watching the toy disappear inside of you.

you then meet her eyes, completely cockdrunk. you beg her again, “please v-vika… need your cum in my pussy. need you to knock me up.”

“give it to me, give me your cum! want it deep in me, wan’ it!”

she growls out, “f-fuck shit’s gonna make me cum.”

“fuckin’ pussy is sucking me in, gonna make me get you pregnant, baby,”

her hips are still pistoning into you, the room filling with sloppy wet noises and smacking skin.

“i’m b-begging you to let me cum, p-please!” you’re still looking into her eyes, kindly asking her for permission to soak her faux dick.

“who’s fucking you then? say my name, doll.”

“you, sevika! you!! you’re the only one,”

“fuck yeah, you whore. ‘m the only one that’s gonna be in this shit from now on. that’s right…”

“plea-”

“cum. i want you to cum on this cock, make it yours. cum all over it,” she’s thrusting against your g-spot as deep as she can with one of her legs on the bed and her hands on your hips. you have no choice but to just, take it.

her words cause the coil in your tummy to snap, your orgasm crashing down on you like a brick to your head. like if a large rock were to crush you and kill you instantly. it’s rough, it’s overwhelming.

“fuck!!” you scream through it.

“i’m cummin’ too!! not gonna pull out. i’m gonna put a baby in you, get you nice and full,”

“mhm!! yes!”

the combination of you urging her on and the pressure of her hips and your ass fucking back onto them causes her movements to stutter, “s-shit!”

her orgasm washes over her much like yours, both her hands on your hips making it easier for her cock to kiss your cervix and for her clit to feel it.

you both eventually come down from your highs. sevika pulls out of you and quickly yanks the toy off.

you’re still in the same position so she presses down on your back to get you to rest your body on the comfortable and soft surface of your bed. you’re expecting her to tug her clothes back on and leave, but she doesn’t.

she praises you for the rest of the night, rubs aloe gel on your ass to soothe the welts, and loves on you as if she’d never hated you in the first place.

“you did so good, baby.”

“i’m so proud of you, you’re amazing.”

“you’re so pretty… you’re mine now.”

…

needless to say… she’s ruined you for everyone else. your petty rivalry long forgotten and replaced with the feelings that you’ve both been hiding. and as you’re both waltzing into silco’s office for a second meeting, he’s hoping for but not expecting for there to be a change in your relationship.

he is stunned when he’s met with no more eye rolls, scoffs, and bickering.

‘wonder what’s gotten into the two of them…’ he wonders.

well, something has definitely gotten into you.

…

I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED!! finals are over so i am free from the shackles of college! (for now…)

hope you guys like it! tbh this took me forever because i couldn’t figure out the plot LMFAKOW😭😭

[bahablastplz]

Love me like this (OT8 x reader)

pairing: OT8 x reader omegaverse AU

summary: when you get your first ever heat well into your adulthood, the only thing you want to do is shut everyone else out. fortunately for you, your boyfriends have another idea.

warnings: omegaverse, virgin f! reader, uses she/her, oral f! receiving, oral m! receiving, face fucking, heat cycles, thigh riding, penetrative/unprotected sex, knotting, slight degradation, some mxm, spitting, bulge kink, some size kink, talk of safe words, mean dom! Chan, breeding kink, talk of mating bites, basically a huge orgy

wc: 10500 (jesus christ) notes: this is straight up filth (sorry) but also my first omegaverse fic!! here are there scents: Chan: petrichor/mint; Minho: vanilla/black tea; Changbin: jasmine/patchouli; Hyunjin: rose/vanilla; Jisung: bergamot/pink pepper; Felix: sea salt/sandalwood; Seungmin: lavender/fresh laundry; Jeongin: lime/grass; Y/N: caramel/brown sugar

You hadn’t seen the boys all day. Maybe that’s why they were so concerned when their first impression of you was the door slamming behind you on your way into the house. You didn’t mean to cause such a scene, but you did run here. You keep your head down and the anxious spike in their smells overwhelms you. You know you should explain to them what’s going on but you can’t find it in you, instead running toward your room as you ignore their calls after you. When a sharp pain hits your abdomen you trip a little bit, clutching your stomach. But with your instincts on high alert, you make it to your room before anyone can catch up to you, locking it behind you for safe measure. 

“I’m fine,” you call out a bit harshly behind you. “I’m fine. I just want to be left alone.”

You’re more than glad that you decided to put on the strongest scent blockers you own today or they would have immediately known what was going on. Your heart beats out of your chest and you know all you want to do is bundle up and seek safety and comfort, so that is exactly what you do. Once the bottom of your closet is cleared out, you drag your comforter off of your bed and spread it on the floor. You find every blanket and pillow in your room and add it to the pile. When you spot Chan’s hoodie, the one that you begged him for just the other day because it was drenched in his smell, you know you need it the closest to you. You throw it over your body despite how warm you are, grabbing your noise canceling headphones for good measure, and shut your closet door behind you. It would be just a matter of time before they come banging on the door asking what was wrong but you just can’t tell them. 

Your heat has started. 

And though this relationship with your boyfriends is new, you hadn’t quite crossed the physical barrier with any of them yet. You also haven’t told them yet… that this is your first heat. That’s why it came on so unexpectedly and why, perhaps, you’re so ashamed. Trying hard to ignore the pain shooting through your body and centralizing in your stomach, you shut your eyes tight and focus on your breathing. You just need to sleep. For now, that’s all you need. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You smell petrichor and mint before you see him. You’re encompassed by the familiar smell of rain that immediately soothes you and you know when you open your eyes that Chan will be there. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and your eyes finally flutter open. You take out your headphones and look at him, not saying anything. 

“Hey,” he says softly. 

“How’d you get in my room,” you mumble. You know you locked the door behind you so when you see Chan look at you sheepishly, rubbing his neck, you sit up to look at your door. Completely off of its hinges. “Chan,” you groan. 

“I know, I know,” he tells you. “I wasn’t trying to go all ‘controlling pack alpha’ on you, but I was really starting to get nervous, you know? You ran in here lookin like you were in pain, you didn’t answer anybody and you closed yourself in your room… I know you wanted to be left alone but it’s been about two hours and you haven’t answered anybody. I was really worried, okay? I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you answer. You understand. You really do. 

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks. His hand strokes your arm and it comforts you. The alpha notices your hesitation and sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Can I… can I scent you? I think it would calm both my alpha and your omega down a little… and you are wearing my hoodie. Do you want that?” You nod and crawl into his open arms, burying your face into his neck. You inhale deeply to get his scent and you notice his fingers lightly brushing over your scent patches. 

“Don’t,” you say into his neck. He retracts his hands instantly and you sit in comfortable silence, him rocking your bodies back and forth peacefully in an attempt to soothe you. 

“I started my heat,” you tell him finally. You feel him tense a little bit before he gains his composure. 

“We thought maybe that’s what happened…” he replied truthfully. You shoot him a suspicious look and you notice his face start to turn red. “We noticed… uh… we could sort of smell your slick.” 

“Oh my god that’s so embarrassing,” you groan. 

“It’s okay, love, it’s natural,” he answers softly. “Everybody has heats and ruts… you’ve seen your fair share of alphas in pre-rut in this house to know that.” 

“Not me,” you admit. “Everybody gets them… except for me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’ve never… gotten my heat before, Chan.” You can tell by his expression that he’s shocked and a little confused. 

“But you’re presented…? You’re an omega,” he points out. That much is obvious, you want to tell him. 

“I presented without going through a heat. I had… a pseudo-heat, basically. That first time my body produced just enough hormones that I presented but not enough to sustain a heat… and I’ve never had one since. They said my omegan hormones were too low.” 

“But you started it today?” he questions. You nod. “It’s understandable… I mean, you live with eight overly-hormonal alphas that are now courting you. It’s probably your body's natural reaction. Is that what’s got you so worked up?” You nodded again. “Why didn’t you tell us, baby?” 

“I was embarrassed,” you admit shyly. He grabs your cheeks so that you’re looking right into his eyes. 

“What is the worst that could have happened, hmm? Did you think we would tease you? Shame you?” You reluctantly nod your head from where it rests between his hands. “That would never, ever happen.” 

“I know,” you tell him. Logically you knew that but you couldn’t help the burning feeling of shame and embarrassment that flooded through your body. “I was… at the store… and some asshole alpha noticed that I started my heat… I didn’t know how he knew. I didn’t even know! But he made some uncomfortable comments and I got so scared… I ran all the way home.”

“You poor thing,” he coos. “Next time if you ever need us or you feel unsafe, you can call me right away. You can call any of us. We’ll always come to you, no questions asked, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“Can I scent you now?” he asks. You think about it for a second before nodding. Your body now feels like any threat is gone, maybe from Chan’s alpha pheromones that he’s been pumping out or maybe due to his reassuring words. You let him peel your scent patches off and your scent of caramel and brown sugar floods the room. With the undertones of Chan’s mint smell, the room almost smells overwhelmingly of a bakery. You know your smell is overpowering, sickly sweet and probably too strong but Chan inhales it straight from its source, burying your head in your neck. “Do you want me… or maybe another alpha… to take care of you for your heat?” he asks carefully. 

“I was going… I just… I can do it myself,” you tell him. His eyes widen. 

“For your first heat? Are you sure? It’s probably going to be a lot.” 

“It’s just… I’ve never…” 

“You’ve never had sex?” he asks. Your lack of an answer tells him everything that you need to know. “I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that, baby. If you want, whoever you might choose would be very careful and go nice and slow. They’d make you comfortable, love. Are you sure you don’t want to try? It’s up to you.” 

His words have you already starting to heat up more than before. You attempt to squeeze your thighs together but Chan’s thick legs are in your way. You’d forgotten that you were practically sitting in his lap. 

“Do you want that, baby?” he questions, noticing the arousal painted on your face and how your scent starts to sweeten the more you think about it. You nod eagerly. “Who do you want to pick for your first time?” 

You think and you think but you just can’t seem to pick one of your alphas over the other. The more you think about it, you’re not sure you can leave any one of them out of the situation… you’ve come to love each and every one of your boyfriends, you were sexually attracted to all of them, and they all make you feel comforted and feel like you’re at home. Your wolf cannot stand to have one and not the others, practically howling in protest. Your stomach twists when you think about how to express this to Chan. 

“Need… you all. I want everyone to be there.” His eyes widen slightly. You can tell he’s more than aroused by the thought of it. 

“You’re sure?” he asks, scanning your expression one final time. 

“Can’t choose. I want all my boyfriends.” 

There’s no judgment in his face whatsoever. You know your boyfriends have all had multiple partners for their ruts before so this wouldn’t be anything new… You were the last to be courted, the last to join the relationship, and so you were the only one who hadn’t crossed that barrier with anyone yet. You’re a little nervous but more than excited for the prospect of what’s to come, to finally cross the line with all eight of them. And you can't wait to tell them. 

When Chan asks if you want to move your nest into the den you agree. The makeshift nest in your closet just isn't going to cut it anymore. You need something suitable for all eight of your alphas. Chan clears the den before you enter and takes the time to explain to all of the boys what is going on while you work on building your communal nest. 

Spreading out your comforter widely across the floor, you start rummaging around the house to find items from everyone. You want the blanket on the couch, the one that smells a little bit like everyone… Chan’s hoodie, of course. Seungmin’s stuffed animals and Felix’s pillow get thrown into the mix. Changbin’s gym clothes, Jisung’s squishmallow, Minho’s dirty sheets… it’s almost perfect, though you almost cry when you find out that Jeongin just recently washed his favorite shirt. You knew it was the one thing that was missing from your nest, and maybe it was the hormones or the pain but that almost seemed like the last straw for you. Jeongin soothes you with his alpha pheromones and promises to heavily re-scent the shirt for you, which will have to do. Once the nest is an amalgamation of every smell swirling together you can’t help but roll around in it. You even find yourself starting to purr. 

When Chan opens the door to the den, you find yourself wanting to show your pack alpha the nest that you’re so proud of. 

“My nest. My nest, alpha, see?” you ask, grabbing his hand and inviting him into your nest. 

“Beautiful nest,” he tells you. You squirm in excitement and smile wide at him. “Did such a good job, omega. Are you ready to invite the other alphas in too?” You nod at him excitedly, your scent sweetening as your alphas enter one by one. With you at the middle of your nest and an alpha on either side of you, two strong pairs of arms engulfing you and three more alphas on each side, you fall asleep with your omega purring in excitement. 

“She fell asleep,” you barely hear Felix point out.  

“She must be emotionally exhausted. Building her nest probably took a lot out of her. She needs us now.” You smile contentedly, happy to be surrounded by the people you love before the throes of your heat take over. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You wake up to a delicious feeling between your legs. You let out a whine as you grind against whatever you feel behind you and it’s only the muffled groan you hear that truly stirs you from your sleep-filled haze. 

“Minho?” you squeak. Sitting up and looking around you, you realize everybody else is still asleep. 

“Mm,” he replies. You feel your face flush in embarrassment and you quickly go to hide your face behind your hands once you realize what you had been doing. He’s quick to grab your hands and put them at your sides, his cat-like eyes boring into your own. “Your heat’s really started, yeah?” You nod pathetically at him, clenching your thighs together to get a little bit of relief. “You can keep riding my thigh if you want to,” he suggests. You squeak when his hands take purchase on your hips, pulling you on top of him. Any protest gets stuck in your throat when his thigh slots in between your legs, placing pressure where you desperately need him most.  

You rock your hips back and forth slightly, scanning Minho’s face for any judgment. Instead, you catch a whiff of his scent spiking in arousal, his black tea and vanilla smelling remnant of a coffee shop. You can’t help but bury your face in his neck, inhaling deeply to better consume his smell. Tiny moans are punched out of you as he guides your hips into him, grinding you back and forth on his thigh. You know you have slick pouring out of you but you can’t seem to care when he feels this good. 

You can tell he’s restraining himself–he must know this is your first time doing anything, really. You've been fighting the urge to kiss him for too long but the sight of his lips caught between his bunny teeth is too hard to resist. You lurch forward, connecting your lips together despite the way your heart beats erratically. The way you squirm against him and the friction of his muscled thigh against your leg, it just isn’t enough. You need more. 

You smell a familiar wave of stormy petrichor and Chan is pulling you off of Minho’s leg before you can protest. He maneuvers your body effortlessly, getting you in the exact position he wants you–lying on your back, knees propped up. His lips trail down your body for a moment, meeting your neck to breathe in your caramel scent. He licks over your scent glands for just a moment as if he were actually ready to devour you, but Minho thankfully quiets your moan with a quick peck to your lips. 

Chan trails lower and lower still until he reaches your shorts, pressing long, open-mouthed kisses to your thighs that has your head spinning. 

His hand reaches between your shorts, fingering your clothed core. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, examining your expression. You nod apprehensively. “I want to use my mouth on you, pretty girl. If you feel uncomfortable at any time or want me to stop, just let me know, okay?” 

“Okay,” you whisper. That’s enough for Chan to slip your shorts and panties down your legs in one fell swoop, his fingertips hot against your skin. You immediately feel the urge to close your legs, especially since you know you’re dripping an obscene amount of slick, but Chan’s strong hands keep them open. The alpha shoots you a gaze that spreads hot throughout your whole body, stern in letting you know not to hide from him. Minho’s hand strokes your face, bringing you back to earth while you relax into his touch. 

When Chan’s tongue licks up your slit and attaches itself to your clit, it’s like electricity spreads through your whole body. You moan into Minho’s hand which has quickly attached itself to your mouth, muffling your noises. 

“Shhh,” he reminds you. You seem to have forgotten that there are six other alphas sleeping in the den at the moment and you’re grateful for his save. “If you want us to stop, blink your eyes three times,” he murmurs. You nod your head, eyes wide. Chan continues to lap and suck at the bundle of nerves between your legs, his fingers coming to grab the slick that spills out of you. Rather than pushing his fingers into you like you expected him to do he softly circles your entrance, getting you used to the feeling. Between Minho working you up on his thigh earlier and the liquid hot desire that you had been fighting off all day, it doesn’t take much to bring you to the edge. 

You can’t help but rock your hips into his face, seeking out more pleasure until his hands hold your hips down effortlessly. “Stay still,” he murmurs. “Take what I give you.” And you do—you take and you take and you take, relishing in every swipe of his tongue and calculated touch. When Minho reaches down to grab your breast over your shirt, thumbing at your nipple, you finally come apart. The two alphas help you through your orgasm, Chan watching you intently from his spot between your legs. He only parts from you with a soft pop once you’re done squirming and your ragged breathing has slowed. 

Finally you notice the smell in the room. It would have been easy to miss over your sweetened caramel and brown sugar, but sure enough— jasmine, lavender, rose, bergamot, sea salt, lime. It must be your heightened sense of smell that causes you to easily pick up the scent of the other six alphas, all in various states of rousing from their sleep. As if on instinct, your scent spiking during your release must have awakened them. 

When Felix opens his arms you gratefully accept his embrace. He has always smelled like the ocean, comforting and refreshing, but the scent comes out much saltier now. You can tell he’s trying to hide just how affected he is. 

“Hi Lix,” you mumble into his chest. He rubs soothing circles on your back. Your emotional connection has always run deep with Felix, even before he asked to court you. His touch and scent has never failed to comfort you, not even now. If he notices your lack of clothes he certainly doesn't comment on them, though you’re not sure if it’s for your sake or his own. 

“Was that okay?” Chan, ever the attentive and protective leader feels the need to ask. His alpha is running wild with the need to check in on you, pleasure you, dote on you… “How do you feel?” 

“Good,” you answer with a small smile. “Felt good.” 

You squirm in Felix’s lap a little. “Then why do you look so embarrassed, baby?” Whelp. You weren’t expecting for him to read you like an open book. 

“S not enough,” you mutter. Chan blinks at you for a moment, prompting you to go on. “I feel like I need something more…” 

“Awww,” Changbin coos. “Baby, do you need an alpha to pop a knot in you?” You find yourself letting out a small gasp at his words, red hot desire burning through your system. That’s exactly what you need. 

You lean towards Changbin and slot your lips together. He certainly wasn’t expecting it but eagerly accepts it and you moan into his mouth, not caring about the seven other alphas in the room currently watching. 

“Do you want a knot?” You’re not even sure who asked the question but you nod so enthusiastically that someone behind you snickers. 

“Who do you want, baby?” Chan asks you. You only have to ponder for a second before the answer is clear. 

“Changbin,” you confess. Maybe it was because he was the first one who suggested it or perhaps his tone, the slight condescending lilt in his voice driving you wild with desire. 

Chan hesitates for a moment and you freeze. Did you say something wrong? 

“I wouldn’t recommend that for your first time, love,” Hyunjin recommends gently. You furrow your brow and your scent must sour at his words—your omega already set her sights on him and you didn’t want anything to interfere. You whine in response. 

“Why?” you pout. 

“Changbin is, uh, the thickest one here? Um, it’ll be hard to take him for your first time.” Hyunjin flushes while you process his words. Oh. Oh. 

You know that the eight of them have been involved, some moreso than others who had previously established relationships in the group, but such an intimate response from Hyunjin surprises you for some reason. Unfortunately, his words don't quite sway you the way that he had hoped. If anything it makes you squirm even more thinking about the way he would fill you up deliciously. 

“Please,” you beg, though you don’t even know what you’re begging for. 

“Why don’t you start with Lixie?” Chan suggests. His words hit you hard when you realize you’re still in the alpha’s lap. Felix, your Lixie and his sea salt and sandalwood and gentle touches… 

“Felix,” you whisper into his ear. “Can I have you?” His eyes are blown wide due to lust and his scent spikes, telling you all you need to know but you wait for him to answer anyway. 

“Of course,” he drawls. His voice has always sent sparks right down to your core but even more so now, you can’t help but instinctively grind into him, causing both of you to let out a low moan at the sensation. Felix pulls down his sweats, the only layer of clothing separating you two, and gently lowers you down to the floor of your nest. You spread your legs open for him and watch as he stares at your glistening core; you have no time to be shy though, not when you’re so desperate that you start to whine. Felix lets out a low laugh before guiding his length between your legs, teasing your entrance with his tip. He pushes into you slowly and waits for you to adjust, your heat fluttering around him and your eyes rolling into the back of your head in bliss.

“Move,” you tell the alpha, and he’s gentle in the way he rocks his hips into yours, slow but deep. Both of your scents swirl around the room overtaken by your arousals and you can’t help but think it smells like salted caramel, and the thought of how perfect your scents compliment one another has you going crazy. “More,” you tell Felix as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your eyes flit to the other alphas in the room who all watch you intently, causing your body to flush more than it already was. Chan’s eyes bore into you and cause you to shudder, but when Felix presses his thumb to your clit and starts to go faster you lose your focus on the other alphas. 

He works you up surprisingly fast and he presses his body closer to yours when you start to writhe underneath him. “So good, omega,” he grunts. “Perfect, sweet omega doing so good for their alpha.” You don’t warn him before you cum because you yourself are not expecting it. Felix looks like he’s trying so hard to hold back and work you through your orgasm but there’s only one thing on your mind. 

“Knot, alpha,” you beg him. “Knot me, please.” Two more harsh thrusts and Felix spills into you, locking his knot into place as you continue to come undone around him with a loud cry. He brushes your hair out of your face and lowers his body onto yours, rearranging your figures into something more comfortable while you wait for his knot to go down. You sigh content in his arms, already feeling more satisfied than just moments ago. 

“You okay?” Felix asks and you hum in approval. You felt more than okay but you didn’t know how to express that. 

“Thank you, Lixie,” is what you say. You lay in his arms, trying not to squirm or think about his thick knot buried in your cunt lest you start to get yourself worked up again. 

“Jesus,” Jeongin finally says, breaking the silence. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Everyone snickers at the youngest, eager alpha and you can tell he’s not lying, a sizeable bulge in his joggers to prove his point. You try not to salivate. 

“C’mere,” you tell the youngest alpha. He looks at you with wide eyes and practically crawls to you, bringing your face into an unexpected, messy kiss. Jeongin has always smelled very citrusy, like lime and grass. His scent reminds you of summer and you fail to restrain from sticking your face right into his neck, licking at his sensitive scent glands. 

“Hi, baby,” he coos. He tries to act nonchalant and unaffected by your actions but his breathing tells another story. You palm at the bulge in his pants and he lets out a small gasp, not expecting it. He watches as you desperately try to get his pants down and reveal him. “Whatcha doing?” he asks finally. “Lixie’s cock isn’t enough? It’s still buried inside you, baby.” 

You flush at his words, feeling hot all over. As if to punctuate his point, Felix pulses from where he is inside you, causing you to let out a low groan. “Wanna touch you,” you pout. 

“Yeah?” he smirks. He wastes no time now in pulling down his joggers, watching as your gaze is transfixed on his cock. It’s endearing, he thinks, that you’re suddenly so obsessed with him and making him feel good. Once revealed your jaw drops at his length; long and skinny but pretty, just like him. You reach your hand up to touch him, to wrap your hand around his girth but he slaps your hand away lightly. He tsks at you, instead pushing his hips forward to rest his cock on your lips, tapping it against them for good measure. “Come on, baby, you can take it,” he urges. With the innate urge to please your alpha you open your mouth and suckle on the tip, tasting his pre-cum coating your mouth. He’s delicious, just as you would have assumed, and you moan around him as he pushes forward slightly. 

Felix curses behind you; you suppose that in your quest to help out the alpha in front of you, you’ve been slowly grinding your hips into the alpha still locked into you with his knot. You couldn’t help it, really, the sight in front of you is just too arousing to be helped. But Felix’s hands grab a hold of your hips, stilling you. 

“Just one more minute,” Felix groans. “My knot… it’s starting to go down.” His voice is pained from overstimulation and so you do the best you can to not move a muscle despite the way the heat between your legs pulsates with need. You focus on Jeongin instead, bobbing your head forward and backward in an attempt to get all of him in your mouth. One of his large hands takes place in your hair, grabbing it but not harsh enough to hurt. It’s just enough for him to be able to take control of your head, using you to take over his own desires. Even still the alpha restrains, not pushing far enough into your mouth for you to choke. When you open your eyes to stare at Jeongin above you he is the epitome of beauty, his toned abs and v-line prominent from where his shirt is now lifted with the corner placed into his mouth. He looks downright sinful with the way he stares down at you with dark eyes. 

You’re manhandled the second that Felix finally pulls out of you. A pair of hands are on your hips and you’re being pulled off of Jeongin and onto all fours, another alpha pushing into you before you have time to truly comprehend what is going on. The smell of roses and vanilla floods your senses and you know that it’s Hyunjin’s doing, eager to please you and fill you up before you have to beg someone else to do so. You’re thankful you can reach Jeongin even better in this position with no need to crane your neck. Jeongin pushes in once again, using your mouth as Hyunjin rocks his hips into you from behind. 

You feel so full like this, your head starting to feel cloudy when the only thing you can see, smell, or feel are your two alphas. They set up a brutal yet sturdy rhythm between them, Hyunjin in your guts at the same time Jeongin hits the back of your throat. You feel something wet run down your face and Jeongin coos when he sees the tears from your lower lashes start to spill, quick to run his thumbs on your cheeks to wipe them away. He grabs your hair and pulls out, holding you up as he asks if you’re alright. You nod and shut your eyes again, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. The only thing you crave at this moment is your alpha and his cock, the need to be thoroughly used for his pleasure while Hyunjin gives you pleasure of your own overwhelming. 

Jeongin chokes out a breathy moan when he’s close, spewing praises in your ear that are downright filthy. His grip on your head gets a little more harsh and your face is straight against his pubic bone as he rocks his face into yours two, three more times until he’s spilling his warmth down your throat. 

“Fuckk,” Hyunjin groans from behind you. “She’s so tight, she’s clenching around me.” Before you even have time to recuperate, Jeongin is pressing his mouth into yours in a searing, messy kiss. You moan straight into his mouth, unexpecting of the sudden affection. 

 “You gonna cum baby?” he whispers, a sly grin on his face. “Gonna cum on alpha’s knot?” Your eyes roll back in your head, focusing on the pleasure building up. You rock yourself back onto Hyunjin’s cock, feeling the precipice of your orgasm. 

“Close,” you warn. “Hyunjin, please…” Jeongin grabs your chin and makes you look up at him and the sight of the alpha above you… 

You and Hyunjin come apart at the same time, your powerful orgasm shaking through your body and causing his knot to slot in place as he releases inside of you with a groan. 

Your ears start to ring with the power of your orgasm and you vaguely recognize Hyunjin lay you down on your stomach, his body slumping on top of yours as gently as he can muster. Someone strokes your hair and you lean into their touch, sighing contentedly. When Hyunjin finally pulls out you let out a whine of protest but somebody pulls you into their arms, holding you close. You’re rocked back and forth as someone whispers into your ear and it’s soothing. You’re surprised when the smell of lavender and laundry hits your nose because Seungmin has never been this gentle or doting on you before. 

You blink your eyes open to see him staring softly down at you. It makes warmth flood your heart because you and Seungmin… have always had a playful, teasing relationship full of banter. He wasn’t one to coddle you or necessarily go out of his way to say kind things to you. He was more the type to show his love through actions than through physical affection or words of affirmation. Like memorizing your coffee order, giving you his hoodies to wear, folding your laundry for you when you’ve had a bad day, or taking you out to the arcade or to watch baseball games with him. His love was often unspoken and so the way he holds you so close to his chest, it makes light tears flood down your face with adoration. 

“Seung,” you whisper. His hand strokes through your hair. He must be feeling a certain type of way, or rather, knows this is exactly what you need right now. Especially as a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen and he cradles you even closer. 

“You feelin okay?” he asks, voice laced with concern. “You can take a break if you need to.” You shake your head, the proposition of not having every one of your alphas distressing enough for a whine to leave your lips. “Hey, we’re not going anywhere, pup,” he tells you. “If you need an alpha cock that bad, there are eight of them to choose from.” 

There’s the Seungmin you know. You hate to admit how his words are sent straight to your core. You’ve always loved your banter and teasing nature, and right now it has you red hot to your bones. You feel the slick pour from your legs and you whine again, shoving your head straight into his neck. 

“You’re gonna act all shy now?” he scoffs. “Gonna act like you didn’t just choke on Jeonginnie’s cock ten minutes ago?” Your body burns at his words and you squirm in his lap, causing him to chuckle. “I can give you what you need if you ask nicely, pup,” he tells you, laying you flat on your back. You cover your face with your hands and he growls, pinning your arms at your sides. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

“That was pathetic,” he laughs. “You can do better than that.” 

“Seung, please,” you babble, squirming desperately beneath his gaze. “Want you… need you please alpha, it hurts, want your knot, please take care of me…” Well, that seems to be exactly what he was looking for as he lets out a pleased shudder at your words. You watch, licking your lips as he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down just enough to let his cock out. He teases it against your folds but doesn’t make you wait long before he pushes in, gentle but deliberate in his need to satiate your desires. 

You let out a content moan at being filled by him. His arms on either side of your head, he starts rocking his hips into yours. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he softly grinds into you. 

When you hear a wet sound behind you, you immediately turn your head. Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Jisung on his knees with Minho’s cock shoved down his throat, one hand gripped harshly in his hair as he maneuvers him the way he wants. The sight is sinful, pornographic, nauseatingly attractive as your boyfriend looks so pliant and submissive for the other. 

A light smack to your face draws your attention back to Seungmin. “Dumb omega,” he says in a teasing lilt. “Pay attention to the alpha that’s fucking you, yeah?” You nod pathetically at him, trying hard to concentrate despite the lewd sounds that come from behind you. He makes it so easy to pay attention though, his cock bullying in and out of you in a way that has you seeing stars. You’ve always wanted to see him like this, for him to lose his composure because of you. And he’s still holding together so well, barely audible panting and low groans escaping his throat when his hips slam against yours just right…  You want more, though. You want his smug grin to be wiped off of his face, want to see him lose himself to the pleasure in the same way you are. Right now, ‘this is for you,’ is what he’s telling you, and though he’s feeling good he’s only focused on you, his omega, and fucking her dumb through her heat because that’s what you need. You’re leaning up on your elbows before you can process it and pulling him into a messy, wet kiss–one that distracts him long enough for his pace to falter and for you to push him onto his back. 

“What–” Seungmin starts, taken aback. His eyes widen slightly and his brow furrows in confusion but you’re taking charge of your pleasure now, using him while showing him you’re not all dumb omega, that you can take care of him just as well. You grab his hands and place them onto your breasts, squeezing around his hands so he gets the point to hold them the way you want. And he immediately responds, kneading the flesh and thumbing around your sensitive nipples. 

You start rocking your hips and the satisfaction you get when he lets out a groan and throws his head back is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You want him to make that sound again and again, want to ride him until you make him pop his knot inside you. And when your hips slam up and down into his, completely setting the pace and feeling his big cock hitting all the right places inside you, you feel smug. Smug because Seungmin has his eyes closed in pleasure, his mouth open and panting, unable to control where he puts his hands. The stoic, smarmy alpha act is gone and now all he can focus on is your tight pussy and the pleasure you give right back to your alpha. And you’ve always loved his voice, his singing beautiful and melodic in all the right ways, but now… Now? You would hear those pitchy whines every day for the rest of your life if you could. 

The best part about this new position is that it gives you a perfect view of the show you were missing. As you bounce rhythmically on Seungmin’s cock you eagerly watch your Sungie get his throat fucked relentlessly. His big round eyes are scrunched shut, face dripping saliva and tears as he moans around Minho’s cock, pistoning into him at a brutal pace. The hand is still tight in Jisung’s hair, effectively holding him in place for him to just use… And Minho’s face is cat-like, predatory with narrowed eyes and a sly grin. You clench around Seungmin, losing your pace as you turn your focus to the show in front of you, your heart beating rapidly when Minho turns to look you in the eye and watch the way you chase your own pleasure. A thin glean of sweat coats his features and when Jisung gurgles around him, making a lewd pathetic sound, Minho throws his head back with an open mouth. You think it might be the most beautiful scene you’ve ever witnessed in your life. Then Minho pulls his cock out of Jisung’s mouth with a wet pop, and Jisung sticks his tongue out as if expecting what comes next. When Minho finishes all over Jisung’s face and eagerly laps up what he can, you cum too, the sight too irresistible to ignore the way your body wants to respond to it. And so you grind yourself against Seungmin again and your pussy squeezes him so deliciously, as if trying to milk out every last drop. It’s no surprise he follows suit, pumping you full of his release as his knot settles comfortably at your entrance. 

You let out a loud, dramatic sigh as you collapse into Seungmin’s arms, relishing in the way he strokes your hair and draws little symbols on your back. There he is–the soft Seungmin that's comforting and caring, and not the Seungmin you usually see on a daily basis. You’ll take it, never one to complain about cuddles or a little gentle caress from your alpha. You nuzzle into his neck, letting that fresh lavender smell overwhelm your senses as you relax. You even start to doze off a little bit, your muscles tired from overexertion and your head nestled comfortably in the crook of Seungmin’s neck. Even though you’re both a little sticky from sweat, your bodies feel like they were meant to be pressed together like this. 

It doesn’t take long for Seungmin’s knot to deflate but you find yourself letting out a whine in its absence. “Shhh, pup,” you hear him coo. You vaguely find yourself thinking you want more, need more but you’re flooded with the potent scent of petrichor that makes you feel so pliant and sleepy you can’t help but succumb to sleep. You want to whine, curse Chan for using his pheromones on you but you can’t bring yourself to when you feel a wave of security and comfort engulf your senses. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You’re in an in-between state where you can hear what’s going on around you but you can’t move, limbs and eyelids too heavy and protesting the signals your brain is sending. 

“That was so hot,” someone says, barely audible. That at least floods you with warmth and satisfaction–your pack thinks you’re hot. 

“I feel bad for making her fall asleep but she needed it, she was starting to push herself,” someone says, changing the subject. You can at least put two and two together and figure that it’s Chan expressing his regret. “Even if she sleeps for a few minutes, her body needs it.” Someone else hums in agreement. 

“Was mean,” you slur. You slowly regain use of your extremities, fingers twitching then your whole hand. It takes some effort but you’re able to rub the sleep from your eyes. 

“Sorry baby,” Chan sighs. He strokes your hair with deft fingers and you think you can forgive him, just this once. It is your first ever heat, after all, and who would you trust but your one and only pack alpha?

“You owe me one,” you say with a pout, and you open one eye to shoot him a playful glare. 

“Anything,” he concedes. “But I think you have other company.” As you sit up and wiggle away from a sleeping Seungmin’s grasp, you notice the subject in question. A whiny, squirmy Jisung, eyes flickering between you and Minho at rapid speed. 

“Please, hyung,” he squeaks. “She’s awake now, please? I’ll be good. I’ll be so good,” he babbles. Minho just watches with his arms crossed and squints at you, the hint of a grin splaying on his face. When he waves his wrist dismissively at the younger alpha he all but leaps into your arms. He kisses your face wet and erratic and you realize he smells more like Minho’s vanilla than his own bergamot. That thought alone, that Minho has already laid his claim on him is enough to have you squeezing your legs together, remembering the scene from not long ago. 

His arms grope every part of your naked flesh within reach and you feel thoroughly felt, thoroughly wanted. You moan his name and babble and grab him back, arching your back in an attempt to press your core against his. He doesn’t protest–you’re so wet that his length accidentally slides into you and makes a loud squelching sound that causes you both to squeak. When Jisung ruts into you it’s desperate, messy and all-consuming. He barely pulls out before pushing back in, trying to savor the feeling of being inside you without having to fully leave. 

A hand on his shoulder causes him to jump and it’s Minho with his devious smile. He still wants to have control over the situation, over Jisung, and his presence serves as that reminder. “Don’t you dare think about cumming before your omega,” he orders. “Only pathetic alphas can’t please their omegas, right Sungie?” Jisung nods frantically, his grip on your hips both bruising and grounding. 

You’re not expecting Minho to bend down and start lapping at your clit so it takes you by surprise, your legs thrashing out only to be held in place by the two alphas. His precision counteracts Jisung’s reckless abandon, his eyes narrowing and darting between watching you and Jisung. As if to add fuel to the fire, he occasionally tongues at your entrance making sure to pay attention to Jisung’s length pistoning in and out of you. 

“Good job,” Minho purrs condescendingly. You’re rocking your hips up in a desperate attempt to get Jisung deeper, to feel Minho’s tongue right where you want it. “Look at how you’re making our baby omega feel.” Jisung’s eyes are half-lidded at the alpha’s statement, his tongue sticking out as he pants and whines. 

“M close,” you warn Jisung. You watch him closely, no longer paying attention to Minho or his actions. 

“Oh god,” he whimpers. “Please, please cum. I’m gonna–gonna fill you up so good. Gonna cum so deep, can’t hold it anymore, y/nnie, please–” 

Your orgasm crashes over you and Jisung explodes the second he feels you clench around him. He cums and cums and you feel his warmth so deep inside you, his cock pulsing as his release hits him just as hard as yours. His knot locks in place and you both let out a sigh of relief. He collapses onto you and you hold him tight, watching Minho rub circles into his back and your face alternatively. At one point Minho reaches in between yours and Jisung’s bodies just to thumb at your clit which makes both you and Jisung whine at the oversensitivity and for Minho to smile devilishly. 

You think Jisung might have fallen asleep by the way his breaths even out, not even budging when his knot finally deflates. When you shoot Minho a frantic glance he is already moving, taking Jisung in his arms and prying him off of you. Though he whines at the separation he immediately curls up into Minho’s arms so he can’t be terribly distressed. 

You throw an arm over your eyes and smile. You even let out a light laugh because how can this feel this good? How can your alphas take such good care of you, be with you during your first ever heat (which is supposed to be stressful), and make it so comforting and pleasant? 

You smell jasmine and patchouli before you even see Changbin and you already want to press your legs together. Changbin is the thickest one here, Hyunjin had said. It’ll be hard to take him. You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge but you’re already second guessing yourself when Changbin fills you up with his thick fingers. Just two of them and you feel so full, but then he pulls his fingers out and sucks Jisung’s release from his fingers. The sight is almost obscene but your heart rate picks up, clearly intrigued by his actions. 

“Want a taste?” he asks with one eyebrow quirked. You open your mouth and then shut it again before nodding at him shyly. You’re expecting for him to reach down in between you again, to find more of that white substance to scoop up and feed you but instead he leans forward, grabbing your jaw by the hinges and forcing your mouth open. 

“Tongue out,” he demands. You do as you're told, sticking your tongue out as wide as it will go. Changbin leans even closer and spits directly onto your eagerly waiting tongue before lightly slapping your face, signifying for you to close your jaw and swallow. You do taste Jisung a little bit, a bitter mix of salt and his signature bergamot smell. For good measure, you stick your tongue out again to show Changbin that you swallowed every last drop. He smiles at you and you return it happily until he pulls down his pants. 

Fuck. 

They weren’t kidding–he was thick and long, his girth almost resembling a can of soda. You crawl backwards instinctively, wanting to say something intelligent like ‘there’s no way that’s going to fit inside of me.’ Of course, no words form and Changbin responds to your hesitation by grabbing an ankle, pulling you towards him alarmingly fast. 

“It’s okay,” he coos. “Alpha will take good care of you, alright?” You whimper but nod your head, watching as he drags his length up and down your center. He positions his tip at your entrance and you can already feel the stretch. You’re well-lubricated with enough slick and cum now to at least make it a little easier–you’re not sure how you would manage without–but you still feel inch by inch stretch you out. 

“Big,” you complain, squirming under his intense gaze. You can tell he wants to make some snide remark in return but instead he just blushes, his ears turning red to indicate your words have some sort of effect on him. 

Finally he’s seated all the way inside of you and if you look down you can even see the slightest bulge in your tummy. He must see it too because he groans and flings his head back. 

“Woah,” Hyunjin comments from somewhere behind you. “That’s so hot. He’s in her guts.” You laugh as Changbin says something filthy to him in return. 

He hasn’t even started moving yet, staring at the bump in your stomach. When he presses down on it you both moan, the pleasure heightened. 

“Look at that, babe,” he instructs. “While I fuck you full watch the way my cock hits your little tummy.” He starts in earnest then, the way he thrusts into you at full force enough to knock the air out of your lungs. He punches little noises out of you every time your hips connect though he’s not exactly quiet himself. 

“That’s gonna be me next,” someone whispers in your ear. You look up to find an intimidating Chan lingering over you and he grabs you, positioning himself right behind you so he can hold you still while whispering improper words in your ear. “Gonna fuck my omega so good, hmm? Gonna stuff you full of my cock over and over again.” You squirm but he has a vice grip on you, leaning forward to nibble on your ear. His hot breath against your skin has your body running hot but you feel him everywhere, smell him and his petrichor with every breath you take. Even while Changbin is fucking the living daylights out of you Chan is there, distracting you from every other sensation. “Take what we give you,” he snaps when you move again. “Are you so cock-drunk and greedy that you won’t listen to your alphas?” 

You shake your head, tears pricking at your lash line. “No, Channie, alpha, I’ll be good, gonna be good,” you promise. Changbin grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half while he bullies his cock in and out of you. 

“Too much,” you wail at a particularly deep thrust and you hear Changbin scoff. 

“Too much?” he mocks. “You don’t think your alphas know what’s too much for you? Silly omega.” 

His words cause your toes to curl and your body to tense and before you can even warn him you cum around him so tightly you swear you black out for a second. 

“So tight,” he comments and you let out a high-pitch sound and close your eyes tight while your orgasm continues to pulse. He fucks you so hard and fast through it that your body is overwhelmed and fuck, you’re cumming again. 

Chan and Changbin both watch as your release squirts out of you, covering his lower abdomen and causing him to glisten in a way that’s obscene. But boy did that do something to Changbin, the scene so hot that he pushes his hips into you one final time and stills as he finishes. You cry out when his knot locks into place, not used to an intrusion that large and you think there’s no way you could move, you’re just too full. 

When you lean your head back you see Chan smiling at you with a glint in his eyes you’d never seen before. 

“What?” you ask him as he leaves small touches along your body, paying close attention to your collarbone and shoulder. 

“Nothin,” he responds quickly. He waits a beat and then… “You need to take a break before we start? Need to take a nap?” It’s sweet that he’s checking in on you when you know he’s been dying for a chance to ravage you, his scent giving him away. 

“Not a chance in Hell,” you laugh. “Alpha, you better fuck my brains out or I’ll find someone else to do it.” You’re bluffing and you both know it, his eyes darkening at your attempt to rile him up. You’ve heard about Chan and his tendency to get in these moods, his need to put people in their places and essentially… tame them. You knew you could push his buttons and he would show you a side of him you’ve never seen before while simultaneously trusting him to reduce you to a whiney, submissive omega for him. It’s what you wanted. He knew it too. You can tell when he tongues at the inside of his cheek and smiles, looking up at the ceiling as if to calm himself down. 

“Cute,” he comments as if he’s talking about you and not to you. “Very cute. But when I have you crying because you can’t cum again and alpha’s cock is too much for you, remember that it was you who tried to be cute, and it was you who riled me up, yeah?” You gulp nervously. Chan looks… predatory, observing you as if determining when the right time is to strike. 

“I could’ve been so sweet to you,” he continues on. Your breath catches in your throat. “You could’ve gotten sweet, loving Chan to help you through your heat, to fuck you slow and gentle. But that’s not what you want, right? You want the big mean alpha to ‘fuck your brains out?’ 

Changbin’s knot deflates and you wrap your legs around him in a last-ditch effort to get him to stay, to maybe fool Chan into believing that his knot is still locked deep inside you. But you’re not that lucky because Chan is quick to laugh and grab your legs, prying you off of Changbin as if you weigh nothing. 

“Don’t be smart now,” he warns. “Finish what you started.” He pulls you close to him, sitting you down in his lap on his prominent bulge. He kisses you once harshly before trailing down, sucking a large mark onto your neck right below your scent gland. His teeth nip right where your mating bite would be, teasing you. 

Your eyes flicker to everyone else who seems to be watching in awe. Hyunjin has crawled into Changbin’s arms now that he’s available but both of their eyes are glued to you as if watching a cinematic masterpiece. 

“He’s so hot when he gets into his ‘alpha’ mode,” Felix whispers to Seungmin. You wanted to agree with him but your senses are so overwhelmed with petrichor and mint. Chan’s scenting you, claiming you as his as thoroughly as he can for the other alphas to see. 

“They can’t help you,” Chan comments when he sees you shoot Minho a desperate look. He gives you a fake pout in return. “It’s me and you, omega. Your safe word is pineapple, okay? I will only stop when you say that word, otherwise it’s game on.” You nod at him and he grips your chin harshly, making you look straight into his eyes. 

“Words.” 

“Yes, alpha.” 

Someone lets out a shaky breath. 

He’s quick to maneuver you the way he wants, positioning you on your knees with your back facing him. You turn behind you to look at him but he grabs the back of your neck and pushes you face first into your nest. You hear him unbuckling his belt and you want to look so bad, to touch but he positioned you a certain way and you don’t want to disobey already. 

Chan says nothing as he pushes his length into you, grabbing your hips and letting out a groan as he bottoms out. He pulls out and slams back in, causing you to lurch forward. Your hands grab at anything, a pillow or t-shirt in order to ground yourself as he sets a brutal pace. 

At some point you hear him scoff and he reaches forward and grabs your arms, holding them behind your back. This lifts your face and chest off of the ground and he uses this new leverage to pound into you.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Perfect little cunt. Gonna… fill you up. Gonna make you round with my pups.” You gasp. You would have never thought he had such a filthy mouth and here you are, looking at the unfiltered version of him. 

“Chan,” you moan, clenching around him. His thighs slap against the back of yours and you can feel him so deep inside of you that you let out sounds that can only be described as animalistic. Your orgasm builds up so fast that you barely have time to warn him, letting out a loud cry instead. He fucks you through it until the afterwaves have worn off and your head slumps forward. He lets go of your hands and gives you a second to recuperate and then he’s lifting you up again, cradling you in his arms. 

You’re about to question what he’s doing before he slides into again and you squeak. He shushes you and grabs your thighs, lifting you up and down on his cock. 

“You’ll let me use you, omega, right?” he grunts. “Let me use you like a little toy until I cum?” You nod and blink tears away at the overstimulation–you want to do this, want to be good for him. His grip will likely leave Chan-shaped fingerprints in your hips and that thought alone makes you feel warm, your wolf liking the thought of your pack alpha claiming you for everyone else to see. You throw your head back and Chan lets out a groan as if he’s in pain. “Don’t do that,” he whines. “Don’t show me your pretty neck like that. You’ll make me want to bite you.” 

You gasp, your heart beating twice as fast in excitement. You’ve talked about mating bites before, but since the relationship was still so new you had assumed everyone would wait until the courting phase was over. But that thought of being his, belonging to him and the pack? 

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he grins. He bounces you up even higher just to slam you back down onto his cock, relishing in the way your face scrunches in pleasure. 

“Her scent spiked,” Seungmin comments intelligently. “She really wants you to bite her.” You want to make a snide remark, to tell him to shut up but nothing comes out besides a broken sound. 

“Yeah?” Chan teases. “Would omega like it if I put a bite right… here?” He leans forward and places his teeth right on your scent gland, right where a large hickey was already forming from his previous actions. He bites you, lightly, not enough to mark or seal the bond, but it’s enough to make you cum again. 

You’re surprised, he’s surprised, and you practically convulse from the intensity of it. His hips stutter and he falters, clearly taken aback. 

“Gonna… gonna, fuck,” he gets out. You can tell he was going to say something that probably would have made you squirm from the lewdness of it but he can’t get it out because he thrusts once and then twice before he releases inside of you. He throws his head back and opens his mouth to let out a loud cry and he looks angelic in a sense, a thin sheen of sweat covering his features and thick muscles that makes him look like he’s glowing. You help the best you can, weakly lifting your hips to help him ride through his orgasm but his knot locks into place and he holds you so tight in his arms you think you might suffocate. He cradles you towards his neck and places you right into his scent gland and a sense of serenity washes over you. 

You’re thoroughly spent. You feel satiated, no longer thinking about your pleasure or the desire that had overcome you. You can rest and you very well could fall asleep in Chan’s arms right now, with his cock still seated inside you but you know his protective inner alpha would never let him. Jeongin brings you water to drink out of a straw and you oblige, drinking every last drop in record speed. Minho is close behind with a sandwich–when did he even leave the nest? But he hand-feeds you every bite as you breathe in the scent of your eight boyfriends. Your nest smells like love. It smells like home, like the eight people who have vowed to take care of you.

Chan hears you sniffle and immediately tenses. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Are you hurt? Was I too rough?” 

You laugh as you pry yourself away from his neck to look at him, grabbing his face with two hands as you plant a kiss to his lips. When you pull away he gives you a confused look, brows furrowed with pursed lips. 

“I just love you,” you confess. “I love you all.” He lets out a sigh of relief when he realizes the tears were happy in nature. 

“We love you too,” he replies with a kiss. “We’ll have to talk about this mating thing, you know.” A blush creeps up your face when you remember how eagerly your body reacted to the prospect of getting bit. 

“I know,” you answer. “Just… want to be yours.” 

“Babygirl you already are.” 

When his knot finally deflates a pair of strong arms lifts you off of him. Changbin helps you lay down and Seungmin is waiting with a wet cloth to wipe you clean. You don’t even have to lift a muscle but you do, leaping into the arms of a sleepy but sated Felix. You nuzzle close to him and Jisung clings to your back immediately. You register a flurry of hands and legs all moving together to join the cuddle pile taking place in your nest but your eyes flutter closed and you let out a content sigh. 

You knew that one day you would have to get your heat and though you were apprehensive about it, you should’ve known you’d have your pack to help you get through it. You should’ve known it was okay to open up to them about in the first place and you should’ve known they would take care of you without blinking an eye. Now you know and it has only reinforced your love and trust of them. 

You fall asleep in seconds surrounded by the warmth of your alphas, your boyfriends, your pack. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @lostgirlinthewoodss masterlist thanks for reading <3

[thesecondhandwoman]

Can I request a Caitlyn x fem!reader where during the final battle, reader got heavily injured like a big gash at her back or something and Caitlyn saw what happened but couldn’t do anything cause she was fighting Ambessa. In the end is all fluff, reader and Caitlyn got treated for their injuries and reader now has a big scar on her back and got a little insecure but Caitlyn kissed her back saying she’s still beautiful

BEAUTY IN SCARS

Caitlyn x f!reader

Synopsis: Even with scars that remain permanent, Caitlyn’s love for you will never remain temporary. And she proves it every time she sees your discomfort.

Request: Anon 🤍

The battlefield was chaos. Smoke and fire painted the sky in hues of destruction, the acrid scent of gunpowder thick in the air. The war between Piltover and the Undercity versus Ambessa’s forces and Viktor’s creations had reached its crescendo, a desperate clash that would determine the fates of countless lives. Amidst the chaos, Caitlyn was a picture of precision. Her rifle was an extension of her body, her movements fluid and calculated as she kept her sights on the enemy. Every shot she took was deliberate, every decision measured.

But no matter how focused she was, even without that rifle no longer in her hands, her heart refused to stay calm. Her sharp blue eyes darted through the haze, searching for you.

You weren’t far, your figure darted through the rubble, weaving past explosions and gunfire to help those who couldn’t help themselves. Caitlyn had begged you to stay back, to let others fight, but you wouldn’t listen. You never did when it came to protecting people.

Her chest tightened every time she caught a glimpse of you. You weren’t a soldier, nor did you claim to be, but your courage put seasoned fighters to shame. Yet that courage terrified Caitlyn. You were too kind for this world of blood and violence, too soft-hearted to carry the weight of what this battle demanded.

Still, Caitlyn trusted you. She had to.

Her attention snapped back to her current opponent: Ambessa Medarda. The towering warlord moved with the grace of someone who had seen a hundred battles and won them all. Her spear swung with a force that made the ground tremble, and Caitlyn had no choice but to meet her head-on.

Ambessa’s blows were relentless, each one forcing Caitlyn to fight with every ounce of skill and speed she had. The stakes were high, but Caitlyn didn’t falter. She couldn’t afford to.

And then she heard it.

A scream.

Your scream.

Her heart stopped. Time seemed to slow as Caitlyn turned her head, her breath catching in her throat. Through the smoke and flames, she saw you. You were on your knees, blood staining your shirt as it spread from a deep gash across your back.

Her world tilted on its axis.

“Y/N!” she shouted, her voice breaking with desperation.

Your body collapsed before you could get another word out, slumping against the floor motionlessly as blood began to ooze from your back. Caitlyn wanted to drop everything, to run to you, to make sure you were okay. But Ambessa’s spear came down again, forcing her to dodge.

Caitlyn grunted, her eyes quickly darting back at Ambessa as she swung her spear back at her. Her movements became faster, more deliberate. She poured every ounce of her strength into the fight, her only goal to end it and reach you.

By the time the battle ended, the forces of Piltover had prevailed. Both fights from Piltover and Zaun remained, but their numbers were broken from start to finish. Caitlyn didn’t care about the victory, the cost, or even her own injuries.

She sprinted through the rubble, ignoring the ache in her muscles and the blood dripping from a gash on her forearm, or the way her eye was currently blinded, dripping with the same red substance. She found you lying still amidst the debris, your chest rising and falling faintly. Relief and panic warred within her as she dropped to her knees beside you.

“Y/N,” Caitlyn whispered, her voice trembling. “Stay with me. Please.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, and you looked at her with a weak smile. “Hey baby,” you rasped. “You okay?”

Caitlyn’s throat tightened. “Don’t—don’t worry about me,” she choked out, her hands hovering over your injury. “You’re the one who’s bleeding out far more than I am.”

“Mm, guess I beat you at something else yet again..” you joked faintly, your voice trembling with pain.

Caitlyn let out a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob. “Stop talking,” she ordered, though her voice was soft. “Save your strength. I’m getting you out of here.”

Ignoring her own injuries, Caitlyn lifted you into her arms. You winced, a weak groan escaping your lips, and she shushed you gently, her voice trembling. “I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

Every step back to the medic’s tent felt like an eternity. The adrenaline carried her forward, her arms trembling under the weight of not you, but the fear of losing you.

The days that followed were excruciating.

You had been stabilized by the medics, the wound treated as best as they could manage. But the damage was deep, and the scar it left behind was jagged and unforgiving. Caitlyn stayed by your bedside, refusing to leave even when her colleagues insisted she needed rest. She spent hours watching over you, her thoughts consumed by guilt and fear.

When you finally woke, Caitlyn was the first thing you saw. She sat slouched in a chair, her hair unkempt and her arm in a sling. Her eyes were bloodshot, but they softened the moment you met her gaze.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice hoarse from exhaustion.

“Morning,” you croaked, your throat dry. Caitlyn immediately moved to help you, holding a glass of water to your lips.

“Slowly,” she murmured, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

Once you’d had your fill, she set the glass down and took your hand in hers, squeezing gently.

“You stayed,” you said softly, your voice filled with quiet gratitude.

“Of course I stayed,” Caitlyn replied, her lips twitching into a faint smile. But the guilt in her eyes was impossible to miss. “I should’ve—”

“Caitlyn,” you interrupted, squeezing her hand. “You did everything you could. Don’t blame yourself.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded, unwilling to argue with you in your fragile state.

As the days turned to weeks, Caitlyn noticed a change in you. You were quieter, more withdrawn. You avoided mirrors and hesitated whenever she offered to help you change or clean your wound.

One evening, Caitlyn found you standing in front of a mirror, your shirt discarded as you stared at your reflection. The scar across your back was stark, a jagged reminder of what you had endured.

You flinched when you saw Caitlyn in the reflection, hastily pulling your shirt back on. “I didn’t hear you come in,” you mumbled.

Caitlyn stepped closer, her expression unreadable. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not hiding,” you said quickly, though your voice wavered.

Caitlyn gently took your hands in hers, pulling you close. “Please don’t lie to me,” she said softly. “You don’t have to face this type of discomfort alone.”

Your lips trembled. “It’s just the scar, Caitlyn. It’s ugly, and every time I see it, I don’t feel like myself.”

Caitlyn’s heart ached at your words. She cupped your face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Y/N, that scar is a testament to your bravery. It’s proof that you stood up for what you believed in, even when it cost you.”

You shook your head, the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you. “I just, I don’t know how to feel normal again.”

Caitlyn’s gaze softened, and she leaned down, her forehead resting against yours. “You are more than normal. You’re extraordinary.”

She gently lifted your shirt, her fingers tracing the scar with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. “This scar doesn’t make you any less beautiful. If anything, it makes me love you even more.”

She leaned in a little, her lips lightly parting above your scar, ghosting the sensitive skin. “May I?” She asked softly.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded, watching from the mirror as Caitlyn pressed her lips to the scar, her kiss lingering like a promise. “You’re breathtaking,” she murmured. “And no scar will ever make me think different.”

[starfilmz]

close to you | rafe cameron

summary: you and rafe are together and no matter how long you two have been together, he still gets jealous. even if you’re admirers are 80% girls.

a/n: basically the jealousy trope but girls. bc i love girls :D

navigation

rafe cameron wasn’t the type to get jealous. at least, that’s what he told himself, day in and day out. but when it came to you—his girlfriend, the one person who had him wrapped around her finger—he couldn’t help but feel a pang of something every time a group of girls swarmed around you.

it was always the same. the way they’d giggle, whisper behind their hands, and act like they had some secret world he wasn’t a part of. he didn’t mind the guys; they were easy enough to brush off. a few sharp words and they’d back off, retreating into the background where they belonged. but the girls? it was different. they didn’t look at him like they were trying to size him up or steal him away. no, they acted like he wasn’t even there.

and that, to rafe, was a problem.

“you look good today, yn,” a girl would say as she sidled up beside you, eyes lingering just a little too long.

"thanks," you'd smile, not noticing the way rafe’s jaw clenched. you were always polite, always kind to everyone, but it did little to ease the tension in his chest.

he’d stand there, arms crossed, waiting for the moment to pass. but it never did.

“i can’t wait to see you at the next surf competition, yn! i’m sure you’ll crush it like always.” one of the girls would chirp, grinning like she had just made the most profound statement in the world.

rafe’s fingers dug into his palms as he glanced over at you, a possessive, yet proud look flashing across his face. he had to remind himself that it was because of you that all these girls were so…obsessed. you had that effect on people, on both guys and girls alike. it didn’t matter how many times he told himself he should be happy for you, that you deserved all this attention—there was still that sharp edge of irritation whenever you were in the spotlight.

“yeah, can’t wait to see you in action again,” another girl added, leaning in a little too close to you.

rafe resisted the urge to step in, though the thought of it brought an all-too-familiar feeling of frustration. you weren’t just his girlfriend—everyone knew that by now. yet somehow, you seemed to be this magnet for attention. people loved you. especially the girls.

but it wasn’t just the compliments or the giddy talk of your next competition that bothered him. it was the fact that these girls seemed to have no problem showing up at boneyard parties just to catch a glimpse of you.

“i heard yn's gonna be at the party tonight. i’m so excited!” one of them said to her friend, eyes practically sparkling. “i’ll be there early so i can get a good spot by the bonfire.”

rafe rolled his eyes, his hands curling into fists. you didn’t even notice them, didn’t care about any of this. you were just trying to enjoy yourself, trying to live your life, but it was like everyone wanted a piece of it. and most of all, they wanted a piece of you.

finally, rafe couldn’t hold it in any longer. as the girls continued to talk and laugh around you, he walked up, his presence undeniably commanding. he slid his arm around your waist, pulling you close, his face a study in controlled frustration.

“let’s go,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. the girls hesitated, looking from him to you with a mix of confusion and intrigue.

“rafe, don’t,” you whispered softly, reaching up to touch his arm, trying to calm him down.

he gave you a tight smile, but there was something unspoken in his eyes. his possessiveness wasn’t something he liked, but when it came to you, it was almost uncontrollable.

“i’ll catch you guys later,” he said, his tone colder than usual, and with that, he guided you away from the crowd.

as soon as you were out of earshot, you let out a soft laugh. “you’re a little dramatic, you know that?”

“i don’t like them around you,” he admitted, his voice low but serious. “it’s not like i think you’ll do anything, yn. but you’re mine. and i hate how they act like you’re some prize to be won.”

you raised an eyebrow at him, a teasing smile on your lips. “and i’m supposed to be okay with you making a scene every time some girl talks to me?”

“you’re my girl,” rafe repeated, his eyes narrowing with that familiar intensity. “why would i want anyone else thinking they can just get close?”

you shook your head, a playful smile curving your lips. “you know i don’t belong to anyone, rafe. but i’m with you. only with you.”

he snorted, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. “that’s not the point. the point is—i’m not sharing, not now, not ever.”

“we’ll see about that,” you teased, pushing his shoulder lightly as you continued to walk away from the crowds.

rafe couldn’t help but laugh, even though he was still a little irritated. at least, for now, you were his—walking beside him, oblivious to the crowd and the chaos you left in your wake. he could live with that, for now.

“just don’t let them get too close next time,” he grumbled, eyes scanning the horizon as if daring anyone to make another move.

you rolled your eyes, but there was something in your expression that softened. “okay, rafe. i’ll try. but i can’t promise anything.”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips said it all. for now, at least, he had you all to himself. and that, for him, was more than enough.

[samcvrpenters]

word count: 1.8k+

pairing: secret service! caitlyn kiramman x criminal! assassin! fem reader

summary: after betraying her, caitlyn vowed to hunt you down and make you pay for your crimes. but her vengeance slowly turns into more and she finds herself wanting your affection and attention

warnings: weapons, violence, a not very well written fight scene, mentions of death

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

is she meant to be grateful for your incompetence? for your ungraceful, egotistical betrayal to the national security agency? if you even think you’re correct on any of those assumptions then you’re dreadfully wrong, because she has vowed to hunt you down and lock you up in a blacksite never to see the light of day again.

she never expected it.

how could she? you were ever so kind and polite to her since the first day you met her in the office.

it may have been a little suspicious; your wide eyes and happy smile supported that, yet her judgement became clouded because, well, it was the first time she saw someone so happy to jump into such a job, and she wanted to trust you.

she instantly had put in an application to become your handler, and it took many discussions with her superiors and her own handler to allow her into the position, but when she was given it, she took it with enthusiasm.

she wanted to lead you.

she believed you could do marvellous things for the agency and she wanted to make you feel like you could reach your potential if she was the one who was looking after you— if she was the one who was ready to take care of you.

your aim was a little shocking, to say the least. in a good way, though. maybe that should have pointed to the fact you had done this before.

but caitlyn was blinded by her own adoration for you and she had made every single effort to make you better than you ever were before, so she adjusted the small things that you were unable to do and she did make you better.

looking back on it, she should have known.

she sits in her office now and she dwells upon the fact that you had betrayed her and her trust.

she’s wearing gloves, and her fingers are tapping against the mahogany table, which is covered in knife marks. she should be glad she’s took it out on the furniture. not on anyone else, because she doesn’t want to get into as much trouble as you have.

where even are you?

she doesn’t know.

she wants to know, but she’s unable to find out because you keep your tracks so well hidden that she can’t locate you in the slightest. she’s proud, in some way. she taught you that. but at the same time, treason is treason. and it’ll be treated severely, like any other criminal would be treated.

the phone rings. a loud, sharp sound that causes caitlyn to flinch because the unfortunate loss of you has caused her a lot of grief.

she reaches for it, her hand wrapping around the material, a clicking noise signifying she’s answered it, and the other person on the phone speaks instantly, like it’s such an important matter that everything else can wait for this.

her eyes widen when the voice says that they’ve found you.

at first, she’s ecstatic. she wants to embrace you and hug you and tell you that everything will be okay. because you had to be manipulated into this. this isn’t your fault. but that’s not how it works, and she’s forced to change her mind as her hand reaches for the gun on her desk.

and then she’s walking out, and the door slams behind her when she doesn’t even have the courtesy to shut it quietly.

in an instant, all thoughts of what to do with you when she gets you is flooding through her head, drowning any feelings she has. she needs to arrest you. if that doesn’t work, shoot you. and if that doesn’t work, shoot you again. and again. and again. and there’ll be blood everywhere and your blood will forever coat her hands and her gun and her mind and she’ll never be able to unsee it.

she’ll hallucinate.

she’ll always see you— bullet holes over your body and your body drenched in red. she knows that’s how it’s going to work.

she finds you.

she will always find you.

“you need to stop!” her usual honeyed voice is twisted with malice, some sort of callousness that stops her typical self from entering the conversation.

because she’s here to arrest you.

not love you. again.

perhaps that’s what hurts so much: the fact she shared so much of herself with you and she allowed you to touch her and hug her and embrace her and comforted her. now all of that is gone and she knows she needs to make you pay.

“you’re not even aiming your gun at me, agent kiramman.” your voice rings sharp in return and your eyes are fixed through the scope of your suppressed sniper rifle. “how about you try to intimidate me and then i’ll stop?”

how do you know without even looking?

it doesn’t matter, because she’s scrambling to pull her handgun from her holster, her finger resting against the trigger guard as she takes a step forward.

she isn’t putting her finger on the trigger. yet.

but the muzzle of her gun is pushing through your hair and to the back of your head.

“come with me. and i will make it a lot safer for you. it’ll be a lot easier for the both of us if you comply.” why is she being so stern? this isn’t how she usually acts with you.

oh well.

does it truly matter? no. not really. because you know she won’t pull the trigger because she doesn’t want to see blood pouring from your head whilst she cries against your corpse.

“you won’t pull the trigger.” you drawl, hands tightening against your sniper rifle, which is mounted on a stand for the time being. “i know what you’re like. and i have too much faith in the fact that you love me that i don’t believe you’d be able to shoot me.”

it’s true.

she still loves you. even with what you did.

“stand up.” her voice is a hiss and she shoves the gun against your head again, jaggedly, as if she doesn’t actually care about your health. but if that was the case, she would’ve shot you already. “stand up and we might take it easy on you.”

you can get out of this situation in a heartbeat. she knows that. are you just entertaining her? do you want to play with her heart? her feelings? do you want her to experience these contrasting emotions of hate and love?

“you’ve gotten predictable, agent kiramman.” what’s with the formalities? are you trying to seduce her, or something? manipulate her? distance yourself from her? she’s not sure. “because i know you won’t do anything. how about you lower your weapon and i’ll lower mine, and we can talk, hm?” you sound like you’re mocking her.

her hand is gripping the gun tighter, and she’s shoving it against the back of your neck instead, and with that, you whip around.

grabbing onto her hand, you roughly push her arm up, above your head, so if she did decide to pull the trigger (whether it be out of surprise or pure anger), you wouldn’t get shot.

and you’re pushing her against the roof of the building, twisting her arm back behind her body, before managing to get her onto the surface and looking up at you.

it’s like she didn’t even try to fight back.

but you’re gripping onto her shoulders, keeping her against the surface of the roof, nails digging through her clothes and into her skin.

“are you just going to lay there?” you hiss out. if she was being rough, you might as well do the same. “say something. do something. get up, caitlyn! aren’t you mad?”

but she’s staring up at you.

it’s as if she can’t look away from you because she’s so enamoured by you.

and then she snaps out of it, and her knee lifts into your abdomen with no caution whatsoever, and you find yourself groaning and letting go of her shoulders. she’s pulling herself up and round to grab your own arms, rolling you over onto your back and she’s pulling you up so you’re sat up, before shoving you back down again.

your legs are wrapped around her waist and it’s almost as if you’re trying to pull her back around so you can roll her over again.

“stop trying.” she breathes out, and she’s moving her hand to grip the back of your hair.

a rather compromising position, which would be seen as something different if the two of you weren’t trying to fight each other.

“fuck you.” you groan out, and since your other arm is free, you manage to smack a punch right across her face, a satisfying crunch erupting from her nose to prove you’ve broken it.

she groans in response, and lifts both hands to cover it, the fabric of the gloves absorbing the blood as she covers it.

and you’re running back to the sniper in the time that you have and opening up the case next to it and pulling out your own handgun. the one you were given to by the nsa.

it was surprising that you had kept it.

“emotional entanglements are unacceptable in a professional, dangerous environment yet are inevitable. is that what you said, caitlyn?” your head tilts to the side and your finger rests against the trigger, ready to pull it if needs be. “if that’s true, then why have you become so attached to someone that you’re meant to arrest? to kill?”

a step forward and you’re closer to her.

she’s not moved, her hands still holding her nose before she pulls them away once the bleeding had subsided.

“it’s unfortunate, really. i enjoyed being in your bed yet your affiliation with the person i was meant to kill in the agency made it stop.”

a sigh escapes your lips at her silence.

“i’m giving you the opportunity to run away, caitlyn. be blind. not brave.”

she needed to act like she had never seen you. and that would make everything so much easier because then you wouldn’t have to worry about her reporting you and she wouldn’t have to say a word.

you were making this easier on her, but she wasn’t making this easier for you.

she doesn’t know why she takes the opportunity. she just does. maybe she doesn’t want to hurt you, and she doesn’t want you to hurt her, but she leaves the rooftop and she’s sprinting down the stairs and back to her car.

“false alarm.” that’s the only thing she mutters to her partner as she steps into the car.

she’ll find you one day. officially. it’ll be printed on documents that she was the one who find you. but to say she’ll take you in? no. she’s sure it will read that she decided to join you.

no matter what the cost is.

[na0koz]

Toxic jinx finding out that your a virgin and taking your virginity/ how she would handle it

toxic!jinx masterlist

MDNI. cw: top jinx, that’s kind of it..

she would like that a lot.

all jinx wants to do, when you boil it down, is to claim you as hers. to prove you belong to her. taking your virginity is honestly like the highest way to do this, in her books at least.

she’d want to do literally everything to you that same night. she wants you to experience everything, and always remember her as your first, no matter what it is.

jinx will start off gentle, with something you’re likely familiar with already: using her fingers on you. she’ll keep to the outside of your dripping pussy at first, teasing you as you whine and twitch under her grip, until finally she plunges one of her fingers into your hole.

she loves watching how you react to things, especially things she does. this is like her dream. to see exactly how she can make you feel good. she adds another finger, and starts to fuck them in and out of you.

you whimper and hide your face in her neck, embarrassed by how sensitive you were already just from some simple teasing, as well as the lewd position she had you in. legs spread in her lap, holding your wrists in her free hand up by your chest. she coaxes your face back out with her free hand clutched to your jaw.

“wanna see you, baby.” she sounds stern yet her voice drips with sweetness, with love.

though, jinx doesn’t make you cum. not yet. she can’t have you tapping out when she’s barely even started. her first objective is to learn exactly what you like and what gets you whining so sweetly into her ear.

she gently manipulates your limbs into a new position, on your back with your legs spread wide. she lays on her stomach between your thighs, grinning to herself as she finds herself face to face with your pussy, puffy and glistening from how her fingers felt around it minutes before.

her breath ghosts your thighs, making you twitch under her tight grip on your hips. she giggles slightly at your reaction.

“let me get a taste of you, ‘kay?” jinx asks, looking up at your with wide eyes. she wants this and you can hear it in her voice, feel it in the air.

you nod and she grins again. she leans into you and kisses your clit, the sensation coursing through you. your back arches off the bed before she pushes you back down. can’t have you running off.

finally, jinx starts to eat you out, and god is she good. you’re not really sure where she got all the experience from, but you really couldn’t care less when she was unravelling you on her tongue. as she prodded and poked your desperate hole, you got closer and closer to your release.

she can’t take it anymore, she just has to make you cum. she needs to see how you move, what sounds you make, how your pussy takes it.

she coaxes your orgasm out with her skilled sucks and licks, revelling in the taste of you only getting better as you cum over her chin and into her mouth.

jinx honestly feels like she could pass out right now. she’s dreamt of this so many times, not that she’d tell you, she thinks it would scare you a little.

she grins and laps up your release. you swear you hear her humming an ‘mmm’ sound. you feel like she’s gonna beg you to do this a lot now you’ve let her break the seal of your first time.

she looks up at you with wide eyes as she licked the last drops of you from her lips.

“you like that, hm baby?”

you nod frantically, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. you don’t think you’ll mind if jinx wants to do this to you every single day.

she grins to herself for the millionth time that night while mentally patting herself on the back for making you cum the first time round.

when she crawls backs up to you to cradle your head, jinx notices your teary eyes drooping. as your breathing slows, she takes it upon herself to clean you up and get you dressed. she is surprisingly good at doing this without waking you, almost suspiciously.

she thinks she’ll let you sleep before she tries anything else on you.

[woso-story]

The Weight Of Love And Loss - Part Four

Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part One Two Three

The morning of the meeting, your nerves felt like they were eating you alive. Every step toward the café felt heavier than the last, as though the gravity of your decision was pulling you back. For days, you’d debated whether to come at all. You’d imagined every possible outcome: Alexia apologizing, Alexia blaming you, Alexia trying to win you back. But no matter how much you rehearsed your responses, nothing prepared you for the reality of seeing her again.

The café was quiet as you approached. It was early, not many people around. Through the glass, you could see Alexia already sitting at your old table, her back slightly hunched, her hands wrapped tightly around a mug.

For a moment, you stopped in your tracks. Memories of the two of you flooded your mind—happy days spent in this exact spot, laughing, dreaming, planning your future together. The air had always been warm with love back then. But now? Now it felt like that love was gone, leaving only bitterness and heartbreak behind.

You inhaled deeply and pushed open the door.

---

The bell above the door jingled softly, drawing Alexia’s attention. She looked up, her eyes meeting yours instantly, and she stood, as if she wasn’t sure whether to stay seated or greet you. She hesitated before giving a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Hi,” she said quietly. Her voice was small, unsure, and it tugged at your heart in a way you weren’t ready for.

“Hi,” you replied curtly. No warmth, no familiarity. Just the distance you’d carefully built since the day you walked out of her apartment.

“Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea?” she offered, almost nervously.

You shook your head. “No. Let’s just get this over with.”

The words were sharp, but you needed them to be. You needed to protect yourself, to keep the walls you’d built from crumbling the moment she looked at you with those pleading eyes.

Alexia flinched slightly but nodded, sitting back down. You followed, keeping your distance, your arms crossed defensively as you waited for her to start.

---

The silence between you stretched on painfully. Alexia fidgeted with her mug, her eyes darting between you and the table. You resisted the urge to fill the void, to make it easier for her. This was her meeting, her chance to explain. You weren’t going to make it easier for her.

Finally, you sighed, irritation creeping into your voice. “If you’re not going to say anything, I’m leaving. I don’t have time to sit here in silence.”

“No—wait,” she blurted out, her voice breaking slightly. She looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But I need to try.”

---

Alexia took a deep breath, her hands clasped tightly together as if trying to hold herself together. “I’m sorry for everything. For the way I treated you. For shutting you out. For not listening. I thought I was doing the right thing, trying to focus on getting better, but...I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you in the process.”

You stayed silent, your expression unreadable.

“When I got injured, I felt like everything I’d worked for my whole life was slipping away,” she continued, her voice cracking. “Football isn’t just a job for me—it’s who I am. And losing that...I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was angry, scared, lost. And instead of letting you help me, I pushed you away. I thought I could handle it on my own. But I couldn’t.”

Her voice broke completely now, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I swear, I didn’t. But I did, and I hate myself for it. I hate that I made you feel like you didn’t matter, because you do. You always did. You’re...you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I ruined it.”

---

Her words hit you harder than you expected. For months, you’d begged her to open up, to tell you how she felt. And now, here she was, pouring her heart out—but it was too late.

“You’re right,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “You did ruin it.”

Alexia flinched as if you’d slapped her, but you didn’t stop.

“I tried, Alexia. I tried so hard to be there for you, to support you, to love you. But you didn’t let me. Every time I tried to talk to you, you shut me out. Every time I needed you, you weren’t there. And do you know how that felt? To feel like I was invisible? Like I didn’t matter?”

Tears were streaming down your face now, but you didn’t bother wiping them away. “You broke my heart, Alexia. Piece by piece, over months. And I can’t just forget that.”

---

Alexia sobbed quietly, her shoulders shaking as she tried to compose herself. “I know,” she whispered. “I know I messed up. But...please. Please give me another chance. I’ll do better. I’ll change. Just...don’t give up on us.”

You shook your head, your heart aching at the sight of her so broken. “It’s not that simple, Alexia. You hurt me. And I don’t think I can trust you not to do it again.”

Her face crumpled, and she covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a sob.

“I think we need time,” you continued, your voice shaking. “Time to heal. Separately.”

Alexia’s tears fell freely now, her shoulders shaking as she cried. “I can’t do this without you,” she whispered. “You’re my rock. You always have been.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Your rock? I felt more like your punching bag these last few months. I took every hit, Alexia. Every argument, every hurtful comment, every time you brushed me off. I took it all. And I broke because of it.”

She sobbed quietly, her hands trembling as she reached for yours. “I’ll fix it. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just...don’t leave me.”

You took her hands in yours, your heart aching at the sight of her so broken. “You need help, Alexia. Real help. Talk to a sports psychologist. Work through everything you’re feeling. Because I can’t be the one to fix this for you. I tried, and it nearly destroyed me.”

Her tears fell harder, but she nodded slowly, her grip on your hands tightening.

After a moment Alexia’s sobs quieted, and she wiped at her face with shaking hands. “So...that’s it?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“For now,” you said softly. “You need time to heal. And so do I. We can’t do that together.”

She nodded slowly, her tears falling silently now. “Is there still a chance for us? Someday?”

You hesitated, your heart breaking all over again. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if it’s meant to be, we’ll find our way back to each other. For now, we have to let go.”

Her face crumpled, but she managed a small, shaky smile. “Okay,” she whispered.

You stood, your heart heavy as you looked at her one last time. “Take care of yourself, Alexia,” you said gently.

“You too,” she replied, her voice trembling.

And with that, you walked away, leaving behind the woman you once thought you’d spend forever with.

As you stepped out into the crisp morning air, a single thought ran through your mind: Maybe someday.

But for now, you needed to heal. Alone.

[zaim8778]

New Gotham Rouge

Okay, in Danny's defense, it sounds like a very good idea when he thought about it. Danny is currently laying on top of the clocktower looking at the smog filled sky. A few stars can be seen occasionally while he is staring and thinking about his decision.

When Danny is outed as Phantom. He ran away as his parents tried to capture and cut him open. He hid in a nearby cave for a few days as he thought of what to do when he suddenly had a brilliant idea. Let's fake his own death!

Danny stole a few parts and materials around Amity Park and made a makeshift bomb and rushed towards the GIW base. He freed all the ghosts and made a cinematic scene of exploding himself thus taking the whole building with him.

Danny also sends the ghost to set up a few bombs in his house after making sure Jazz, Sam and Tucker are not there. Just as he 'exploded' himself, the house also exploded destroying the portal and all the remaining research paper about anything ghost related.

Danny dove into the ground as the explosion distracted everyone and chose one direction to fly towards. A few hours later, he found himself in Gotham and surprisingly there is a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham. He flies around invisible while looking for a place to stay and he lands on the clocktower to rest after flying for so long.

Now, Danny doesn't know what he should do because he realizes one key component in staying alive for him. Obsession. Contrary to popular belief (Sam), his obsession is not protection. It is love. Love as in any act of love will fulfill his obsession. Him protecting his town is an act of love towards his town people. Him loving and studying space is an act of love towards himself. Him not taking revenge against his family and people that wrong him is an act of love towards humanity.

So, long story short, he needs to find a way to fulfill his obsession. He is laying on top of the clocktower and suddenly a very good idea comes into his mind.

A few weeks later

-Batcave-

Dick: Are you still searching for the glitter thief?

Tim: Yes. And it's driving me insane how little clue there is of this thief. I even tried asking Selina and even she is impressed by this thief's MO.

Steph: Are you sure you need to be stressing about this thief? It's probably a group of kids stealing glitters just because they can.

Tim: Are you telling me a group of kids can do a heist better than Selina? And this thief or group of thieves for some reason only stole biodegradable paint and glitters from all across the city without us finding where they store them? There must be something I am missing.

Suddenly, an alert appears at the batcomputer and catches everyone's attention. A live broadcast is showing Joker standing in front of a switch as Commissioner Gordon hanging from a rope on top of a pool of acid. Every single batfam suits up and rushes into Gotham to find the Joker before anything can happen.

Joker: Hahahaha. Good evening Gotham and Bats! Today, I have a dear friend of yours playing my game. In front of me is a switch to activate a time bomb that will explode a whole district if not dismantled. You have 20 minutes to dismantle the bomb and with every minute that passes, I will slowly lower the Commissioner into the pool of acid.

Joker then walks slowly towards the switch and flips it.

Joker: Your time starts now! HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Batman and the crew rushes towards Gotham as they turn Gotham upside down for the bomb. 5 minutes passed and they become desperate enough that they even roped in some of the rogues like Penguin, Harley, Ivy and Croc. But no matter what they do, they can't find the bomb.

Just as the last minute passes, everyone expects a big explosion engulfing Gotham. Except there is no sound at all. In fact, it is eerily quiet. Everyone turns on Joker live broadcast to see even the man is confused. He turns around and sees Gordon having his feet inside the pool of acid like nothing is happening.

Suddenly a giggle appears. Everyone that hears the giggles starts to get goosebumps as suddenly, a kid with a half clown facemask at the bottom of his face, a green leather jacket, black jeans and white hair appears behind Joker. His hands are holding his stomach as his giggles turn into laughter that is eerily similar to Joker.

???:Hello everyone. I am Trickster. And I am here to crash the party.

Everyone: ????

Trickster: Hehehe, it's so funny to see everyone's confused expression. But no worries I am here to have fun. See, I even have your toys with me.

The Trickster phases his hand into his body and pulls out a very familiar brick. He throws it to Joker and the Joker runs away screaming and trips on his feet falling down the stairs.

The Trickster: Hahahahaha. Do you see his face? Hahaha. Oh boy, I should have recorded this. Hey this is a live stream right? Someone clip that. Anyway, I have defused the bomb. And the acid isn't actually acid. It's just colored water with a light beam at the bottom. I still can't believe he doesn't check the acid pool first.

The Trickster then goes towards Gordon and pulls him down from the rope. After Gordon touches the ground, he unties him and pats Gordon's shoulder.

Trickster: Well I guess this is good enough for the apology.

Gordon: Apology?

Trickster: *Rubbing his neck* Yeah, about that. I was the one that glitter bombed your office last week. I mistook your office for another corrupt policeman and accidentally placed it on your desk. I am also technically the cause of you getting caught today. In my defense, you shouldn't startle me like that.

Gordon: Wait, you're the kid that punched me.

Trickster: I'm not a kid. I'm 16. Plenty old if you ask me. Whatever, here is your phone. Go call Batman to pick you up. I want to go back to sleep after having fun tonight. Adios.

Gordon: Wait-

Trickster then disappears into thin air like he is never there in the first place. If not for his phone in his hand and later confirmation from everyone that watched the live stream, Gordon might have admitted himself into Arkham.

That is merely the start of the many incidents involving Gotham's newest rogue the Trickster.

[very-annoyed-crow]

In third life there are no previous winners, but i would like to note grian and scar agree that no matter who wins in the cactus ring, third life can be considered a double win. Spoken word makes it so, grian kills scar and the watchers deem him sole Victor of the game. The sun beats down upon the sand.

We move on to last life. Grian our first Victor meets his end by the blade of one scott smajor who goes on to claim victory of that game. The sun sets to night and the stars in the sky glow.

See double life, pearl and Scott stand alone at the end of the game. It may be by Scott's own hand that he meets his end, but the watchers need a Victor and the emotions in his decision allow his sacrifice to her to count. Pearl caused smajor's death and as so is crowned the victor and the moon out shines the stars above.

Martyn is the first winner we see take the title with vigor and bloodthirst. Time is limited and so in blood he will steal mere minutes. A choice made to kill his own teammate at the end, again we see the stars fall to allow a new Victor to rise. And so the human joins the group. Maybe a comet passes by as his time ticks down.

Scar did not want to be the villain of this storyline but the watchers gaze was heavy and the scrolls left little room for bargaining. If it is a villain they want, then a villain he can play, and so he does. The moon may be red tonight but it is day when she falls trying to escape him. "She's dead scar, you won" He is crowned the victor and the earth seems to hum but that may be the secret keeper.

Pluto hums in the sky without a moon as cleo steals an invalid yet celebrated win.

In wild life we see many a twist to the rules and wonder what will happen next with anticipation. Some adapt to the wildness better than others and Joel did not shy away. Taking to every twist like a fish takes to water, Make it wild they whispered, and so he was. He hunts his way through players to the final match. The sun beats down over the mountain as he snipes grian down. A Victor's blood to secure his win. I wonder how the world will sing for him yet. The revving of a car in the distance or perhaps that was thunder?

Each time a new winner is crowned the final life of a previous winner is taken by their hand. Who will be next? The watchers await in excitement.

[nsharks]

pls give us some blurb😔 I'm so sad today😔😔😔

Here is my revised preview for the next part!

B

"Hold him close to your chest, or he'll jump out of your arms. Here—like this."

Blue gently cradles the rabbit against her chest, then carefully tucks him into Ari's arms, guiding his hands to scoop under Grim's fluffy rear. She can't help but find it amusing that the boy who had taken her riding on such a large animal yesterday looks so wary holding a harmless bunny. A giggle bubbles up, and she bites her lip to keep it in.

"He's so... squirmy."

Blue keeps her hand on Grim, reassuring both the rabbit and him. "He's just ready for his breakfast. Want to help me feed him?"

"Sure."

Blue leads Ari to the hutch where the other rabbits are. She explains her morning routine, showing him how to supply the rabbits with enough grass, leaves, and berries to keep them healthy and plump. Not long ago, she was explaining this to Twix—the very person she forgot to say good morning to in a rush to find Ari outside. This time around, she wonders if Ari is genuinely interested or just being polite. She finds herself stealing glances at his face, studying his expressions perhaps longer than she should. His almond-shaped eyes and dark pink lips catch her attention.

He's cute.

It's not the first time the thought has crossed her mind since these strangers appeared. Cute like the men in her magazines, though he's not quite a man. Not in the way Ghost is. But he's taller than her by a head and two years older, evident in the notch on his throat and the deeper timbre of his voice.

But it doesn't matter. They are only here for a few days.

Blue closes the hutch and rocks on the soles of her boots. "Well, that was probably boring, huh? We could, um, go hunting if you want. Or to the pond. It's fun to swim there. Or maybe—" She pauses, mentally sifting through the limited activities available, frustration creeping in as none of them seem particularly impressive.

"This wasn't boring," Ari says with a chuckle. "Now I know rabbits are just as friendly as horses."

"They are... except when Grim gets mad. Then he can be a bit of a jerk. Like if you accidentally step on his tail."

"I'd be pretty pissed if someone stepped on my tail, too."

"You don't have a tail."

"It's just a joke."

"Oh..." she fidgets with a strand of hair. "Right."

"The pond sounds good. It is fucking hot." Ari blows out a breath and swipes at the back of his neck.

"I know. So hot. Hot as balls."

Ari raises an amused brow. "Yeah, uh, hot as balls. Are you allowed to go by yourself, or do we need to ask your dad?"

"I get to do what I want," she lies easily with a shrug. "Buuuuut, we can ask Twix to go with us."

As long as Twix is with her, she suspects she can get away with not asking Ghost, who luckily is hunting with his old captain. It's not that he seems distrusting with these people as he did those first few months with Twix. Rather—she isn't thrilled about him knowing every little thing she does. She's never had anything just to herself. 

Twix is sitting on the porch, looking rather deep in thought as she skins a squirrel. Her hair is long, curtaining her face. When Blue asks if she wants to go to the pond, she agrees easily, claiming she has been meaning to cut her hair anyway with the encroaching warmth of summer. Nereida joins, too. 

The pond water is cool to the touch. Ari rips his shirt off and jumps in without even a second to waste. Blue usually swims in her underwear and shirt, but she hesitates with her thumb in the belt loops of her jeans. She didn't consider that he would see her in her underwear. 

A soft touch to her shoulder. It's Twix. "Want me to grab you shorts real quick?"

"Um... yes. Yes please."

She changes into the shorts behind a tree. There is an odd pit in her stomach when she gets in the water. She doesn't quite know what it is, but it's similar to how she feels when she's scared sometimes. Ghost always tells her fear is a useless thing. It doesn't keep you alive. So she ignores it, shoves it down deep, and swims over to Ari with a purposeful splash that even wets Twix, who sits at the edge sharpening her knife.

"Damn. That's gonna cost you."

A splash is given in return, and then they are playing. High noon bounces shimmering light off the water as she tries to keep up with him, but at one point he sneaks up on her and she ends up with a mouthful. Nereida spends her time picking at some bunches of rosemary and Twix cuts her hair. But Blue doesn't notice any of that too much. When the water stills and they pause to catch their breath, Ari climbs onto a rock and shakes out his wet curls. She is quick to find a perch beside him. Absentmindedly, she pinches the bottom of her wet shirt to keep it from sticking to her chest.

"It's nice to have some place to swim so close by. Back at our old camp, there was lake but it was a few miles away, so my mom rarely let me go."

"I'm sorry, you know. About your mom. Mine is dead, too."

He half-smiles. "Thanks. I don't think about it too much anymore. My uncle and I have always been close so it helped to have him there." He nudges her shoulder. "You're damn lucky to have such a cool dad, huh?"

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, that guy is a beast. My uncle says they called him Ghost because no one could ever see him coming before suddenly, they were dead." 

"Oh, yeah, he is super cool," she quickly agrees. "He has taught me a lot."

"Shit, really?"

Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she nods. "I know... I know how to throw knives pretty well."

"I gotta see that." His eyes flash behind her. "So what's up with his girlfriend?"

"Huh?" A divot forms between her brows before she follows his gaze, landing on Twix, whose hair is now just past her shoulders. She is wetting it, running her fingers through the newly cut strands. "Oh—Twix. That is not his girlfriend. She is my friend."

"You mean they don't sleep together?"

"Like in the same bed?"

"That's usually where people fuck, yeah."

He seems ready to laugh. She frowns, head tilting as confusion hums in her chest. "You mean like sex?"

He nods. "You know what that is, right?"

She quickly recovers. "Yeah, of course. Ghost told me all about it."

"You know they're probably doing it, right?"

"Ghost and Twix? No—no," she forces a laugh. "I mean, sometimes I catch him staring at her all weird. But I don't think—I mean, they hardly like each other and she is my friend, really, not his. He used to make me stay away from her, even. But I mean, they do spend a lot of time together now. It's usually to practice fighting and defense. Not to have...sex."

"Don't they share a room?"

"Just right now, because you guys are here."

Ari chuckles. "You really think they aren't doing it in there? She's really pretty. There's no way they aren't."

Blue looks back at Twix. She is pretty. And she has actual boobs. Blue's fingers curl into the soaked fabric of her top.

Her eyes flick back to him. "She would've told me if they were."

[thesummerstorms]

You know that conversation you can have with Emmrich where he asks what your plans are for your body when you die?

I think Arsinoë accidentally horrified him. Not by clinging to non-Nevarran ideals about cremation, but by telling him she never thought anyone would care that much one way or the other.

She would be dead, so she wouldn't care. And honestly, a majority of compradi die as Fledglings without graduating; she thinks their bodies were probably burned (since you have to do something with bodies) but they certainly don't have funerals, so it certainly wasn't worth worrying about then.

Emmrich interjects, trying to wrangle his own shock long enough to point out that she's not a Fledgling now, so surely...?

Well if she dies now, Arsinoë all but shrugs, it would depend on the circumstances, wouldn't it? She isn't someone important like a Talon or the scion of an established Crow family. She certainly isn't Caterina Dellamorte, who warrants something verging on a State Funeral.

If she died, there is still a non-zero chance it would be at another Crow's hands, in which case it's anyone's guess what happens after.

If she dies honorably fulfilling a contract, then Viago might feel obligated to do something if he isn't pissed off at her failure and she's isn't still in Exile. He's her mentor, so probably he would manage at least a small pyre. Maybe even a flower or two for the flames if he's letting himself feel sentimental. Teia would probably be there because Viago was.

But just as often, when a contract goes wrong, there's no time to go back for the body. The mark get ahold of it, or whoever's left on the contract has to focus on survival rather than the dignity of a corpse that can't feel any of it.

But really, none of that would matter to Arsinoë, would it? She'd be off wherever dead souls end up going, or maybe in oblivion, who knows. She doesn't have any family to be horrified by her corpse unless you count Viago, who is Fifth Talon, has bigger things to worry about, and will get over it.

But anyway, why do you ask, Emmrich?

Emmrich is too aghast to answer clearly at that point because every single point of Arsinoë's answer goes so deeply against everything that is ingrained in him as part of the Mourn Watch, from the belief that a corpse just doesn't matter to her sincere belief that no one would care enough about her for any particular mourning rights.

And the thing is Emmrich does care. It's his professional duty to care, but he's also become fond of his young friend and he cannot handle imagining that she could die on this mission or the next and potentially receive no rites at all.

Cue Emmrich starting to plan how he's going to have Rook interred in the Grand Necropolis when the time comes. It may involve some string pulling, especially if (hopefully) she dies not on this mission but in the distant future, and even more so if he precedes her and has to leave the job in one of his colleague's hands. But Maker help him, there will be a plan and her death will be respected.

When it comes to light, Neve is uncertain and a little weirded out, but also a little offended by all this. She's fallen in love with Rook, but even before that, the respect between them would have warranted a pyre and Arsinoë's name on the Wall of Light if there was no one else to arrange things. Is this why she's never asked about what happened after Varric-

Lucanis is horrified by the idea of Arsinoë as one of the spirit-possessed skeletons in the Necropolis or one of the jewel-eyed skulls in its many niches; he snaps at Emmrich about Nevarran obsession and respecting Rook as Antivan.

Emmrich refuses to budge. She expected the Crows to do nothing for her. She deserves better, deserves to be remembered, even if she isn't Nevarran.

Lucanis seems fully stunned by the idea that Rook believed this in the first place, given Viago's attachment. Given Lucanis's own growing feelings. Emmrich does soften a little bit when he sees that Lucanis truly didn't realize, but he also doesn't fully divert his plans.

Gathering a grave-dowry is normally left to a lover or family member if the deceased was themselves unable, and Emmrich is neither. But needs must, and though his friend now seems attached to Neve and Lucanis, hearts can be fickle. A plan is better. So he puts away small things here or there, eyes which of Rook's enchanted rings and amulets she seems to favor just in case.

It almost helps him live with the knowledge that Arsinoë believed she would die unmourned. Almost.

[as8bakwthesage]

How Revenge Consumed the Administrator (Part III)

Part I - Part II - Part III

Spoilers below

So, she's on death's door, she's given up all of her remaining Australium in order to watch him die. But I think it's more than just that.

She not only wants to look her best, but she also wants to look exactly how she looked like when she first met him, face to face. I think she wants him to see her, at least one more time, as she was. She wants him to see the face of the woman who ruined him.

And right as the final moment is about to arrive, Miss Pauling and the Mercs walk in. And Miss Pauling asks her one question:

The Administrator's response?

And it's fitting. She's been doing this for so long, it's consumed her every living moment. She's been alive for so long, living as a ghost of a person, all for the sole purpose of torturing someone she hates. And it was all thanks to the Australium.

I think when we saw the Administrator talking about "it" in the previous chapter, we assumed she was talking about Australium. But that isn't the case. The Australium is what allowed her to keep going for so long, it was a tool to her. There was no big world ending or world dominating plan for her. It was so personal, so intensely personal that it consumed her entirely. Until there was nothing left. The reason doesn't matter anymore.

But upon seeing Miss Pauling, The Administrator has a glimmer of hope.

There's more! Of course there's more! The Engineer had been wrong! It can continue! In her delirium, she begs Miss Pauling to tell her if she found more. Perhaps she can keep this going again! Perhaps she can extend Zepheniah Mann's suffering even longer! Perhaps- perhaps...

But Miss Pauling hesitates. She hides the Australium behind her back. She considers the woman in front of her. And I think she feels pity.

This facial expression right here. You can see Miss Pauling realising just what the Australium has turned her boss into, you can see her realising that the woman she looked up to all this time... was someone who should have been dead a century ago.

And perhaps, as a mercy, she tells the Administrator:

And you can see the exact moment the Administrator realises that it is finally over.

In disappointment? Relief? I think it might be a combination of both. But regardless, she'd make these last moments count.

She turns back to the man who destroyed her... and she laments.

She's trying to process all of her feelings, all of this time she spent doing this. She's angry, she's horrified, she's mourning. All the time lost and wasted. She could have done anything. Could have been anything. She was smart enough, and she knew this. She falls to her knees, and weeps.

But even still... she wipes her tears, and grins.

And then she proclaims:

Because at the end of the day, no matter how much time she wasted, no matter how much pain and energy she put into this... it was all she ever was. She knew this when she tried to kill herself all those years ago. She knew this the moment her parents died.

In the end? It was worth every single moment.

She takes his body down, holding it. And I genuinely believe that they are both dead here. They've been alive for so long that when the Australium is gone, they both turn to dust. Not even the bones remain. There is no way to bring them back now, and I highly doubt that either of them want to come back.

"Just you and me" until the bitter end.

~~~

The Administrator has become one of my favourite characters of all time and it is solely because of this amazing end to a comic series I have been following since I was tween. And it's solely because of just how fucking personal her motivations are. It's not grand or glorious or even anything to do with the world. She doesn't give a shit. She's not your typical villain, she's not Grey Mann.

She's caused so much pain and turmoil just because of her insatiable desire for revenge. And not just revenge, but to torment the man who ruined her life. But at the end of the day, she ruined and fulfilled her own life. And even though it was so bleak and terrible, it was her happy ending to finally die.

Just... wow. What a send-off to a character. What a brilliant fucking character. Massive props to the writers and artists for conveying such a complex yet still absolutely cruel and vicious character. It is so much better than a typical "take over the world" plot and her character is better for it.

This was the best holiday present ever.

Anyway, uh... thanks for reading this! I hope you enjoyed my ramblings!