#just waiting to be called Them in person tbh

[mocha000]

Impatiently waiting for the video omg. "You know I did not realize just how subby I made Yoongi when I wrote this but tbh I’m not complaining, I think it’s verry within the bounds of his charecter to want to depend on the others during these moments when things are changes in the pack structure." yeah i kinda love sub Yoongi. "there needs to be more lovey dovey bullshit! especially her calling him perfect for her later in the chapter like! yes! thats your mate honey!" true.

"sometimes i wanna take real yoongi by the ears and also tell him that he’s perfect." MOOD LOL "Honestly Namjoon deserves all the kudos for his self restraint, here he is in the nest, his omega’s acting cute and slutty and he’s just a good alpha and watches 🥰 need me an alpha like namjoon." yeah omg.

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

"we are also on the outside looking in at them too- so thats why i wanted to leave it up to interpretation like- whatever you most want to read him say to her is what he says." hmm ok. "yeah listen i know i was only letting hoseok have one mouthful but! but! i was running out of pretty ways to describe it :( maybe in the next chapter-" yes!! "because the only smutty bit in that is a yoongi x hobi scene that is 😵‍💫 a bit of a doosie."

"the quickest ive seen on forums is solid sucking for 9 hours straight which seems! a bit excessive! but i think with a bit of supliments you could very very easily make it happen." wow, that's crazy. i have been a little curious but wouldnt 9 hours hurt damn. "thank you for your comment once again <3 i’m glad that none of this slightly more extreme smutt than usual seems to have been too much <3 i always worry but i shouldn’t because you always leave such nice comments!" engrave this into your brain sweetheart. i love this fic omg!!

Before I Leave You (Pt. 80)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

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

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

W/c: 12.7k

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

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

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

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

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

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

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

"Even the pup?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He’s like still a beta? Right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your dick was perfect before though-"

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

"What? I'm just saying-"

“Don’t look at it!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Namjoon-” Jin scolds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nudges the underside of your jaw with his nose. "Come on, it's sorta easy" his teeth brush your mating mark and you gasp, the threat of a bite but not a bite at all. "and you like it."

The pack looms closer so close they can reach out and touch, can reach out and feel. "Should we watch? I think we should watch" “Yes. Definitely yes.” “Yes, I think we should, yes please.” "they're so pretty when they fuck."

But Jungkook huffs, a little bratty, a little bit upset that there's a knot he's not allowed to ride. "Can't I get one lick?"

"No Koo" Jungkook jerks against his hold.

"If I lick it, is it mine? While she rides it does it count if I lick it?” Jungkook gets dragged over Jin’s lap for that one, completely happy with it as the other omega lands several swats over his behind. Giggling as he goes.

The slapping sounds are distant. Jungkook's skin glows from the force of the hits but his cheeks are round from his smile sweet. A Spanking? You'd like one of those. Maybe you can provoke it from one of your packmates sometime later. You might need a settling after this.

Your brain is a mess of wants and instincts. But a spanking can wait. Yoongi's knot presses just under your pussy and you grind onto it experimentally. Tingles of pleasure filling your whole body. Good. It's so good. You snarl.

“No. No Jk- pup”

You are not paying attention as Jungkook tries to claw his way over to you; laughing, making a game of it. You and Yoongi are not speaking but you are communicating. Every grit of his teeth says mine, and every twitch of his hands on your hips says keep going. You look down at your mate and lick your teeth, polishing your canines as you eye him. The line of his throat. The pinkness of his nose. His chest- everything.

As Yoongi huffs, half fond. Cheeks slowly warm the more your eyes roam, the more you look and hunger. 

It’s not that you’ve never been a sexual creature and it’s not that Yoongi has never seen you want him. But too often have you been like Noodle. Too frequently has he been the steward of your lust, carefully encouraging it and letting you be fickle and safe. Every time you've had sex you've been timid. he’s always letting you know through every breath that you’re not too much and that you can have it in any way that you want.

But now- now you’re eyeing Yoongi like you want to eat him.

Your brain is too syrupy and slow to do more than grind against his knot (like I said, all bark, no bite) your pussy dribbles onto it. The glide of your slick hole so much against such sensitive skin, pressed between your body and his. An omega possessed. An omega on a mission. 

He’s been on the business end of many knots but this- this is different. Your eyes are open hardly blinking, Jungkook’s hands trail up Yoongi’s thigh to his hip.

"You're hiding it-" he whines, bratty. But gets snapped back into the alpha's waiting jaws. More spanks. until someone, Jimin maybe is tugging at Jungkook's cock between his legs while he gets plugged up by Namjoon's knot. Namjoon's the only one out of all of them that can truly distract Jungkook. Can possibly stop him from trying to covet Yoongi.

Yoongi's knot doesn’t belong to him. As his mate you have rights.

You push him back to lie in the nest and Yoongi lets you. It’s instinct to straddle him, to get him under you where he can’t move. Even though you don’t usually fuck like this with you on top. You don’t know why this in-heat version of yourself seems preoccupied with riding or not riding, maybe it’s a control thing or vulnerability.

Your body is unused to the heat, unsure of quite what the edge of want and don’t want to meet. Unsure if you want all the control or the complete lack of it. You are weak to your instincts. Weak, even though you know if you just lied back Yoongi would take care of you.

Your instincts give you neither choice nor reason nor want for anything, anything but this. Hoseok's hands slide up Yoongi's knees, touch your lower back, everything. Everyone everywhere touching both of you. Egging you on with their bare teeth and wildly sweet scents.

The head of Yoongi's cock slides up and through your slick, catching on your hole for a moment before it pops away,

You don’t know who guides Yoongi’s knot to your fluttering hole, only that it’s there. It’s easy to sink back, eyes furrowed as you concentrate on the feeling of getting Yoongi’s knot inside of you, cheeks warm at the eyes of the pack on you.

Beside you Tae paws at Jimin’s knot he makes a nose in his throat, but Tae’s all smiles. “Minnie likes it.” She croons in a singsong tone. Hooking an arm around his waist and sliding her hands under the elastic hem of his boxers to toy with him.

There is breath on the back of your shoulder, condensation turning your skin dewy. A hungry alpha ready to swallow you whole. Looming. You don’t look to see who it is, who's looking over your shoulder watching Yoongi’s face as you ride him.

You have a sinking suspicion it might be Hobi.

You fall into a slow rhythm appreciating the way that it feels, nudging at your entrance. Filling you routine. You’re getting better at this setting the pace on your own. Moving at a steady rhythm. A rhythm that makes you sigh and squeak. Your body feels so far away. The ache in your knees, the soreness in your hole, and the tiredness in you are all impermanent compared to the pleasure.

You focus on the feeling of your hands on his chest and the pleasure that comes with fucking yourself down on his knot. It’s a good knot. Not too big, not too small, just right. Everything about Yoongi is just right for you. You mewl as you speed up your pace. Instincts burning for more more more.

Sweat bleeds down your back and Yoongi’s jaw rolls, unblinking below you. Someone wipes away a bit of drool on your jaw and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Tipping your head back.

“Does it feel good pup, the way his knot feels in your little hole?"

"Not so little anymore," Tae snickers, "she's practically bouncing on it."

Yoongi’s knuckles are white with how hard he holds your hips, doing his best not to guide your rhythm or disrupt it. Someone's hand is in your hair, tugging and tangling with it, pulling you up and down.

Namjoon leans down to whisper in Yoongi’s ear. “Good huh? Pussy fucking you up hyung? Gonna be a little bitch and make a mess in our pup? Gonna put your little knot where you want and breed her?” 

Yoongi lets out an achy moan. And hope that you didn’t hear that. Or feel how it makes him twitch and pulse. Knot seconds from popping. Already mostly popped from before. He’s not going to last. Yoongi knows it will be quick.

"Bet you can feel how I fucked her open for you huh?"

Yoongi does not pause to push Namjoon’s face away as the alpha bites his shoulder- his ear- his everywhere. Namjoon's not nearly as unaffected as he pretends to be but Yoongi is too focused on you.

Yoongi has always been the perfect fit, not quite as long as Hobi or as thick as Jimin or the type of knot that makes you feel it for days after like Tae and Namjoon. It’s a good thing you’re a size queen because now you can fuck yourself down on Yoongi’s knot, regardless of the size it threatens to swell too.

Yoongi’s knot is about as thick around as Namjoon’s cock is normally so you still struggle to go all the way down, but stretching yourself around the wideness is good, feels nice. Sates the fire inside of you. His knot presses all nice and hot snug against that spot inside of you. You babble it, saying how good good good your mate is, how you can feel his cock stretching you out and breeding you. Almost mindless from pleasure.

Almost but not yet.

Yoongi slides his palm from your stomach up to your sternum, under the black shirt you wear, stroking over your skin lazily before his fingers tangle in the material, pulling it. using it to guiding and goad you into fuck him faster. Saying nothing. Eyes on you. Dark and heavy-lidded.

To shut you up (not because he wants you to shut up but because he wants to hold off from cumming for as long as he can). Yoongi gets his feet under him and drives his hips up. Fucking up into you. Faster and faster until you can tell you're almost taking all of it. All of it. As much as you can.

“That’s it, there you go baby. Fuck her like an alpha. She wants to take it, you just have to help make her.”

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

Beside you, Tae's hand works underneath the waistband of Jimin's boxers, a thumb hooked there lazily. Stilling for a second. Her knuckles wrapped around his knot probably. Hobi is tucked along Jin's side, hips stuttering working. Watching you and Yoongi. Namjoon grins, showing his teeth.  

You have almost all of his knot in you now, everything but the widest bit, just a little more, just a little and you’ll have it. You bounce up and down on it experimentally. You grin, very very convinced that you don’t have to wait for Yoongi’s knot to go down to continue.

Your mate's hands circle your wrists, holding them hard, pulling you down hard every time you pick yourself up, trying to keep you stationary. But Yoongi’s needs are very very far away in his mind.

It’s almost better this way, looking down at him, working your body down his knot. Testing the give and breathing through it the way that Namjoon has taught you to breathe through taking his knot. The pack all around, watching you and encouraging you. They're so close, it sort of feels like they're all fucking you this way.

Tae’s fingers dimple in your thighs and Jk rests his head along Yoongi’s tummy so he can watch his knot sink inside of you as a treat when he takes his spanking like a good pup. A strong hand in his hair to keep him from moving forward a few inches to lick. Pout on his face. When your pace stutters, body overtired from heat, Hobi's hand goes under your thigh to help pick you up, taking the weight of your body for you.

You finally get Yoongi’s knot inside of you, but it doesn’t stop there, you put your hands on his chest and pick yourself off of it again. It tugs but slips past the rim of muscle after a second, slick sliding down the big swollen curve of it. It takes some finesse, but your body gives way and his knot is once again hovering just on the precipice.

Then you sit yourself back down.

Jimin’s breathless curse against your throat feels almost guttural. You hardly hear it too focused on fucking Yoongi’s knot like a cock.

 “Fuck, omega's knot fucking is-” 

“It’s hot,” Jin says, leaning down to brush Yoongi’s sweaty bangs from his forehead. “How does it feel honey? Feeling your mate around your knot? All good? All nice and snug?”

“She’s-” Yoongi pants through it breath ragged, close to cumming, knot pulsating. “Warm” his voice is strained and he scrambles to reach for you. Yoongi’s lap, his whole stomach really, is covered in your slick. The slide is almost too slippery. If you weren’t concentrating so hard on keeping rhythm you’d tell him you love him.

“Overwhelming, feels like- feels like- fuck-”

But you know he already knows, can feel it in the way he touches you. The way he looks at you. Everything.

You squirt, wet noisy, little dribbles of cum flicking up across his chest, clamping down around his knot so hard that Yoongi has no choice. Your pace stutters and you sigh. You hardly notice the pleasure rocking through you, hardly notice as you start to tremble. Little ‘hng’ noises pushed from your throat with every sweet jut of Yoongi’s hips. Still fucking his knot all the way in and all the way out.

Yoongi fucks the same way he talks, sweet but firm. He cums that way too. Warm and slow. You feel every syllable and every drop.

But Yoongi has no words for the ecstasy of knotting you. Groaning deep, more guttural, more animal than you’ve ever heard him sound. Cumming, knot popping fully. Finally. Your legs shake and your head drops as it throbs and swells.

You finally stop riding him but he keeps pulling you down at the same second he sits up quick, until he's sitting with you in his lap. Wrapping his arms around you. Whipping your hair from your face, cupping your cheeks, forehead to forehead.

A bit of your squirt drips down the seam of his hip, the place where his thigh and stomach wrinkle. Staining the nest a darker shade of pink.

But there are hands to settle your giggles, his knot pulsates, and you feel wet and warm inside. You ease up and he holds you for a moment. Skin to skin. Breath to breath. Both of you panting through your comedown.

The others fall upon you.

Jin's hand cups your stomach, and Jungkook's teeth drive into Yoongi's shoulder with a quiet yelp and a 'yah jungkookie'. you love how grumbly yoongi gets when he's feeling sensitive but safe.

Namjoon tilts your chin up and kisses you, messy and filthy. When you part you feel dizzy from lack of oxygen. You can't yet register that you're panting, breathing heavily. Still sort of cumming. One orgasm blends into another. Having them around while Yoongi’s inside of you is so much. Good, but a lot as Tae strokes down your spine.

“Did good alpha?” You ask Namjoon.

“Did so well, so so so well taking Yoongi’s first knot.” Now he'll understand how possessive we can get of you. Now he'll get it.

Yoongi ignores him, but around you, the air is thick with the scent of the pack's pleasure. Hoseok ruffles Yoongi's hair than yours, you nuzzle into his wrist. Tae's hands are hungry, and exploratory.

(They watched you through all of this but never once did you wonder if you were pretty, never once did you worry about how it looked, if it was enough. There is a simple love that's here. A simple love between all of you. Through your heat- you've never once been self-conscious. With Yoongi’s knot snug in your pussy, and everyone praising you, you can't find it in yourself to be nervous or worried or feel anything but bliss).

There are familiar hands everywhere- reaching down, feeling where you and Yoongi are connected. The wet slick glide of an omega properly seated on a knot. Tae’s lips pressed against your tit while her delicate fingers paw at your pussy, not a kiss, not a suck, but a pout.

You let her until Yoongi hums, overwhelmed, and then lean down to bite her. Popping back, licking your teeth, echoing a soft "sorry" when you've realized what you've done.

Yoongi shivers as Jin runs a hand up and down his stomach, knuckles brushing yours. Namjoon crowds in behind you. Pushing you both down into the nest. His pack alpha herding tendencies are at play but he’s a warm and reassuring presence behind you. They all settle in to cuddle you and keep both of you safe until Yoongi’s knot goes down long enough to make sure that you’ve been adequately bred. 

Everyone's sort of lying on top of each other. Namjoon behind you, Jin behind Yoongi, Hobi trying and sort of succeeding in squirming his way in between Jin and Yoongi. the pack are noisy. but you sort of love the noise.

"You're pinching my skin hyung." "Wait wait wait, this will be more comfortable." "Namjoon she needs room to like-breathe." "Ow my knee like- cannot stay in this position." "Jungkook!"

The older omega lets Hobi muscle his way in. Pressing a kiss and a nibble to the back of his neck in admonishment. Jungkook sprawls across all of your stomachs and Tae rings the top and Jimin the bottom, guarding you and Yoongi against the door. Classic alpha.

Tae runs her hands over your hair, scratching at your scalp with her long fingernail. You push into her touch like a cat. She does it to you, then Yoongi. Yoongi’s hands skim up and down your hips and he’s breathing heavy.

“Love you,” he says.

he closes his eyes first but you just watch him. A chorus of voices join but you lean down, pecking him over his eyelids. Covering his body with yours. He doesn’t need to worry about anything.

Yoongi wraps his arms around you. Mumbling something into your ear quiet enough that the rest of the pack doesn’t hear. But let it remain a mystery. Let it remain for just you and him.

You rest and cuddle. And Yoongi keeps twitching inside of you. Every time you think that he’s done and that his cock can’t possibly give you anymore he starts to twitch again. Cuming just a little bit more.

It almost feels like Namjoon, who cum's a proportional amount to the size of his cock. Yoongi never normally cums this much, but you can't say you're complaining. One hand resting protectively over your tummy.

You hear Jin's familiar 'tsk' and fingers are at your hole. They guide a bit of spend back up into it. But your eyes are already closed.

You were already tired before and your heat still rages. It's not fire anymore. Something in you satiated. It's not a raging inferno but the kind of warmth that glows from coals, that sizzles on the edge of your skin, like deep-seated honeying of suns and far away stars teeming with wishes and life-giving warmth.

Yoongi decides that he wouldn’t mind doing this, just when you go into heat. He’ll get tests done later; Namjoon will drag him to the hospital after this week to take his blood and measure his hormones.

Dr.Pearl and another beta specialist will come to the conclusion that it’s both your mating mark and your slick that caused a momentarily biological shift that’s temporary at best and a one-off probably (it won’t be a one-off, Yoongi will grow a knot through every one of your heats after this). They’ll prescribe Yoongi less of your slick and a bit of distance from your scent during your pre-heat (both professional opinions that Yoongi will opt to ignore because seriously what the fuck?)

For now, you settle down atop him, keeping his knot safe inside, and go to sleep. Not before feeling each one of your packmates press a kiss to the place between your shoulder blades. Surprisingly sensitive, surprisingly ticklish. You feel it all. The brush of Hobi’s nose, the skim of Tae’s long hair. The plush feeling of Jimin's lips more like petals than skin. The brush of Jin and Namjoon’s stubble. The nibble of Jungkook's teeth.

Yoongi’s lips remain planted to your forehead, he sleeps that way through the rest of the afternoon. The little huffs of his breath tickle your baby hairs, and you can’t say that you mind.

Being the lowest member in the pack’s hierarchy means different things for each pack. Especially with two older omega’s in heat, and you below them in the hierarchy.

As the days drag on, you feel like a bit of a chew toy (not that you’re complaining).

As the lowest packmate in the hierarchy, you bear the brunt of it when their instincts shift from hungry to nesty. The breeding’s mostly done (mostly, but not quite) now is time for nesting, for preparing. It takes time for seed to take. That time that you spend cuddled close. Safe between Jin and Jungkook. Walled in on either side, safely tucked between their chests. Both of their heartbeats beat through either ear.

At least until you wake up.

You omega’s are a conspiratory little bunch. The nest is deep and colorful with many spots to hide. You do not try to hide from Jinnie or Jungkook, there is no need to. the alpha’s are who you hide from, peaking over the edge of an inner nest, the walls built up a bit like an igloo. The three of you playing a pretend game of hide and seek.

Hiding from them and the pleasure that they give you. Because they want to get in the way of all your fun.

It’s not getting in the way of the fun so much as it’s partaking in it, sticking their knots where you need them- but where is the fun in simply fucking? Foreplay is where all the fun happens anyway. Bouncing on a knot can get so boring.

Unless it’s Yoongi’s knot of course. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of that. His refractory period is a lot longer than the other alphas, even Namjoon who tends to knot for a good 30 minutes. You’ve had him 4? Maybe 5 times since the first? And now he slumbers, hips ringed with hickeys, cock lying limp and pretty pink against his stomach, utterly spent.

You’d ridden Yoongi until he was trembling, until his breath came out as gasps and not growls. Until his knot couldn’t even pop anymore and Namjoon had quite literally scruffed you to get you off of him. Too sensitive for anymore. Twitching duly when you’d popped off for the final time, a glob of cum leaking down your hole to your other one.

And yet, you could tell by the smell of him that Yoongi was drowning in ecstasy, nothing about his scent in pain or discomfort. You did a good job. Your pack had told you, you did.

But still, your mate needs his rest, in the meantime, the omegas can play.

The morning is thick and heavy, sunlight slow moving like honey when the alpha’s start to wake to the sound of soft breathy moans. the alpha's don’t immediately register that none of them are awake and that it’s purely omegan whines and whimpers that coat the air in the sound and smell of sweet pleasure.

Honey, cake, and cream.

Jungkook giggles softly, looking down and you can’t help but smile too- dopey. Fucked out. Fucked dumb. They’re not exactly surprised that you’ve gone non-verbal. Babbling only for Tae and Yoongi when they seriously prod you for a question.

This is just another spike of your heat only… you didn’t bother to wake your alpha’s up for it. You don’t really need your alpha’s knot when Koo is so soft and when Jinnie is- honestly very big for an omega, perfect enough for a bit of comfort in your hole.

But putting the pack omega’s cock all up inside you would not be good. You want to be good for Jungkook, your nestmate who has bitten you so thoroughly your skin aches from his teeth. From your chest to your shoulders and neck. To your hips and backside. Everywhere he’s bitten you up. So that anyone who sees you will know.

The three of you giggle and rub. What started as cuddling and a bit of grinding has become something different.

You and Jungkook hover above Jin lying down, Jungkook teased him a little bit ago for his grandpa's behavior, for not wanting to move and being too cozy. His omega cock stands hard and proud. Not terribly big, but not as small as Jungkook either. You and Jungkook seem not to notice the difference.

You and Jungkook sit perched above Seokjin, the pack omega’s hands roaming without care. His face is pink and his eyes are half closed, sleepy, and happy to let you and Jungkook take what you need.

At least Jin’s heat is near ending. Your and Jungkook’s roar in the meantime. You grind into each other, tummy to tummy, Jin below the two of you left to lazily rock up into the drippy sweet cleft between your pussy and Jungkook’s cock. It’s all very slick as you move against each other. Rubbing and grinding and giggling.

Hoseok blinks awake in the nest, picking himself up with a jerk.

A combination of your slick soaks Jin’s lap, and turns the grind sudsy, almost soapy as he slides up through your pussy kissing Jungkook’s cock. Omega’s do love to scent and rub and grind; you’re doing some mixture of the two. Not scissoring, but it would be scissoring if Jungkook had a pussy instead of the little nub he calls his cock. Jungkook reaches down, tapping his cock against your clit. You purr and squeak at it.

You’re… a bit of a mess, after having been fucked by every available alpha and Yoongi so hard like that earlier- your hole is a bit of a wreck, you're leaking slick and globs of alpha cum that Jin and Jungkook are only too possessive over. Pink when Jungkook reaches down to part your pussy with his hands and sees your wrecked entrance. He's too happy to smear it all over.

You can hardly blame Koo for his fascination, dragging his own little cock and forth between the mess. Putting his cock in (not that you can even close around it, small as Jungkook is) just to feel the heat of your body and what the alpha’s did to you.

It’s a good thing that most of Jungkook’s knot collection is locked safely away in the closet. Otherwise he might be tempted to see if you can take the largest one. The one that’s larger even than Namjoon that Jungkook's only managed to take on occasion when the pack feels like devoting multiple days into opening him up. The one that often leads to multiple days of aftercare because it actually is a little medically questionable for Jungkook to take.

Jungkook might have a bit of a thing for it; a size kink. thats never more apparent than when you're close. when he puts his hands around your waist and his hands almost meet. Watching you take things that look too big, that fuck you dumb like this is jungkook's favorite.

Now that the alphas aren’t making him feel so…so omegan, so fucked out. He’s sorry he missed most of it. He wants to see it again, wants to watch you get fucked open on namjoon's cock.

Jimin lifts his head from the nest, doing a double take and cursing when he realizes that it's not a wet dream just- just real. Namjoon rubs a hand across his jaw, sitting up on his knees in the half-darkness. Clearly he's been awake for a while. His hand goes ridged on Namjoon’s wrist but the pack alpha doesn't look down at him- he doesn't tear his eyes away from you three.

Namjoon’s cock presses up between his boxers, put on for modesty- and because normally omega’s in heat can’t be trusted not to get a little handsy. Hard, insistent. Now, Namjoon wishes that you'd get a little handsy. That would be better than just watching.

“You didn’t?…” he asks, trailing off. Namjoon swallows hard shaking his head. Namjoon already has his hand hooked into Hobi's collar, keeping him in place. Keeping him from interfering. Hobi lets out a lupine whimper. More a puppy than a man.

“Jin asked me not to intervene.”

The pack alpha’s restraint is legendary, especially when Jin giggles at the way you’re bouncing or trying to bounce on Jungkook’s cock. The pack omega tuts, and slips in besides Jungkook, half pushing him out of the way. Jimin starts, but there’s no reason to.

After fucking Namjoon there is more than enough room in your pussy.

The sight of you and Jungkook rubbing your used holes together is something that should honestly be recorded for the communal pack spank bank. The three of you pink-cheeked and healthy, and-

Knocked up. The three of you look like you’ve just been knocked up even though they know you haven't. Your skin glows healthy, your bodies supple and fed. Relaxed and loopy, showing the signs of the care the pack have lavished you with.

Jinnie's glowing too- skin smooth and blemishless, lips puffy and glossy from being kissed so much (as they should be). Although his glow is softer and less harsh. Jin’s heat is already ending, just another ten or so hours now. The fever quiets to a soft hush, a gentle need instead of a rabid one.

Was it the pack omega that dragged you and Jungkook to get off on top of him? It won’t be long now. Namjoon can tell you’re both close to cumming from the way you're shaking and the way Jungkook's breathing.

The slick glossy look of your thighs, your hiccups, the sight of Jin’s cock pressing between your slick folds, peaking out, rubbing against your clit, and the head of Jungkook’s little cock. The pack omega’s hands are hungry twitching as jin cranes back and inarticulately tucks his hands into both your holes. stroking both of them. Jin’s cheeks look round, pouting as he concentrates.

“Want pups, my pups, gimme,” you and Jungkook giggle, pressing sloppy kisses to each other’s mouths, Jinnie’s too- although the pack omega does little but pout and rock into the warmth. Into the wet.

The alpha’s watch and it’s torturous to keep themselves back. But they're good alpha's. When your and Jungkook's rocking reaches a fever's pitch and then quiets. Trembling and overwhelmed. Clinging to each other, threatening to topple.

When you’re finished there is more than one available knot, hard and aching, ready to sit on.

~-~

That’s not the last time that Jungkook seeks you out during his heat. far from it.

You’re not surprised that both his and yours have lasted longer than Jin’s (probably by a day or so). Your and his hormones spike and feed off each other, your heat spikes syncing until your packmates have to handle both of you at once. Your hand remains knotted with his, whining every time one of your alphas tries to cajole you gently away from him. Unwilling to be parted from him during knotting for comfort.

The lulls between Jin’s heat spikes get longer and longer while yours and Jungkook’s remain the same. Jungkook’s even speed up a little if anything.  

Jungkook loves going into heat with you- he really does, it feels like he’s always reaching, always craning his neck to watch you. The tender nape of his neck is bruised from the number of times that the alphas have had to scruff him docile. All of him feels Bitten and nibbled at every available opportunity.

Really, Jungkook's sort of in heaven.

The alphas never throw him around the same way they do when he's in heat. They don’t treat him like he’s delicate, like he’s precious, especially with you around to dote on and fuss with. You take the brunt of Jin’s protective instinct too.

Jungkook can be as bratty as he wants, bite whichever alpha he wants, and chirp as long as he needs to. Outside of heat they rarely ever hold him down and make him take it. They always hold back. Only in heat at his most vulnerable do the alphas really stop treating him like he's fragile.

He likes pushing their buttons and making them bite. Now, Jungkook does it because he can't stand it.

Cute aggression? It must be cute aggression.

He wants to squeeze and nibble and wreck you, Watching as jimin tucks his face into your neck as his knot twitches, your entrances stretched tight around it and your legs wide open so that Yoongi can gift tortuously small touches to your clit, all but torturing it as you seem to squirt and squirt and squirt.

So much until you’re dripping around the hollow of his wrist. Your petal pink lips parted, ready for a nibble. He'd barely satiated his desire to mark you up earlier. The haze of hormones is thicker than smoke in the air, turning his brain mushy as he listens to Yoongi beg.

“One more, just one more for me. You made me cum until I couldn’t anymore so now it’s your turn.”

You sob, but thats not a no. Your knees get brought up. Cute, plush, like a fucking stuffed animal. Jungkook once again, gets the inexplicable urge to squeeze you.

The alpha's have you both pressed chest to chest. Underneath you, Jimin continues to drive his cock in smooth efficient bunches, a knot already popped inside. You'd asked him to be mean with it and sob you do. Begging and pleading for more more more at the same time you say you can't take another orgasam.

Jungkook remains above you on his hands and knees. Namjoon lies along Jungkook's spine. Punching a groan from Jungkook’s chest with every impossibly long and thick drag of his cock. Making the omega feel all of it.

A fresh wave of your slick squirts against jungkook's chest and Jungkook's arms buckle. He sort of falls half on top of you. Yoongi hums and puts Jungkook back on his hands and knees so that he can keep touching your pussy. Jungkook rests his body against Yoongi's arm to keep himself up. Mouth open.

Jungkook thinks he might imagine it. He must, because he can feel Namjoon’s cock pressing against his tummy, feel it as the bulge kisses your skin the give of your belly button.

Your giggle feels like a punch to his gut. As your hand slides up his slick stomach to palm at the belly bulge, touch him the same way he touched Namjoon's cock through you. He loves it. He presses his forehead against yours, your eyes just as dilated and as gone as his. Rubbing his face against yours in a half kiss- half scent mark.

There's a lot of squirting, mostly from you. Jungkook likes watching you squirt. It's so pretty.

Jimin yanks his knot out of your hole, a move that he wouldn’t be able to pull if you hadn’t been knotted by Namjoon recently. Perhaps inspired by watching you knotfuck Yoongi. Pulling at you so hard that it honestly to god looks like it hurts, it looks mean. It makes you squirt violently again against Jungkook's straining abdominal muscles.

Jungkook bites your cheek. Hmm, squishy.

He bites the other side, and it blooms under his teeth.

You tremble and almost seem to pass out of a second. And then- really do pass out once Namjoon pulls back, reaches around Jungkook, and says something to Yoongi, who pulls his fingers away from your clit, you jerk trying to chase the pleasure. Only to run headlong into Namjoon’s hand, landing hard over your clit.

You gush through Namjoon’s fingers, soaking the place where he and Jungkook join. At the same moment Namjoon shoves his slick-coated knot into Jungkook’s hole.  

Your head lols back against Jimin's shoulder and you let out a single broken whimper. they're pushing you to your breaking point. (But you have a gut feeling that once you break and they put back together, you'll finally feel whole).

Across the nest, Jin perks up a little horrified. He's being fussed over by Tae and Hobi, happily doted upon while Hobi's knot rests safe inside. knot warming. Comforting Jin through the end of his heat. Hobi turns and Tae starts to get up to intervene but then- 

Jungkook giggles at your sobs, lapping at your tears. Clenching wildly and grinding back against Namjoon’s knot, the pack alpha moves him so that Jungkook can press his lips to your slack mouth.

You blink, dazed, look up at him.

“Meanie Joonie” Jungkook giggles, the omegaspace haze so thick he can hardly string a coherent sentence together. “Meanie Minnie! Meanie Yoonie! Again! Wanna see!” Jungkook moves, trying to get his hand in between your legs to spank your clit again, but his swats don’t do anything, too gentle.

Jungkook is literally getting the daylights fucked out of him right now, he hardly has the energy to lift his own head, let alone spank your pussy the way he wants.

oh, after this heat, after this, he's going to have so much fun figuring out how much you can take.

Yoongi's teeth look incredibly sharp, a little feral at being asked. But Jimin nods and fuckes his knot out of you and Yoongi spanks your clit again. You've never squirted so many times in a row but you leak like a faucet now.

The next flood of your slick lands on Jungkook’s cock. Jutting against your stomach with the force of Namjoon’s thrusts. He giggles again. Shifting closer away from Namjoon- hissing at the tension around his knot. So that Jungkook can press your slick stained and swollen tummies together better.

When he cums too seconds later, from another brutal press of Namjoon’s knot to his prostate and a mean pinch to the head of his cock- he giggles and uses his hand to spread his spend over your stomach.

You’re already lost to exhaustion. But Jungkook pecks your nose, tucks his face under your throat, and goes right to sleep. 

When Jungkook wakes, he's still like that. He's not being filled, and things are calmer.

The freshly fallen night is a hush on the edge of the nest, There is a different need coursing through him. A different sort of wanting. A physical hunger. His body is exhausted, sore, and bitten.

Your chest smells like Tae's lipstick, like her kisses. Jungkook’s pretty pretty pretty alpha, the prettiest alpha that is on the other side of the nest, talking with Jin and sharing soft kisses. She must have come over earlier to check on you, must have kissed you here.

Jungkook is dimly aware of her soft words, “Do you want a knot Jinnie? Some food? Some water? A cloth? How are you feeling? Does anywhere ache my love?”

Jin's answering hum is exhausted but happy. After a second he quietly admits, “My thighs hurt.”

Yoongi is summoned, Hobi too. To squeeze and help relax the pack omega. The sound of his squeaky laugh and shy moan a welcome return.  

Jungkook dozes while you and Jinnie rest, his body over your body, lined up chest to chest, nuzzling first at your throat and then lower when Jungkook's instincts tug at him. The pack is not as worried about him being snappy. They've long since decided that whatever happened at the beginning of the heat was just that- an anomaly at the beginning. Both of your instincts settling.

But now, Jungkook crouches over you like an alpha might. Protective.

Possessive.

There is something syrupy sweet in the air, just below your skin. Jungkook couldn’t smell it until he started nosing at your throat, but now he can. Something laces through your veins, something that smells divine, something that he can almost taste, like sugar only sweeter.

He begins to move lower.

Your breasts smell like Tae, like alpha, they’ve been given so much attention, teeth marks and bruises line your areolas, Tae has sucked your nipples pink and sensitive and stiff puffy already. Imprints of Jungkook’s pretty alpha and her pretty teeth stay there like a shadow, a bruise. There is a word you call her, 'mommy.' He likes it when you call her that. It has Jungkook’s pretty alpha smelling muskier and impossibly prettier.

Jungkook’s mouth is perilously empty, it's starting to bother him. Jungkook lips his lips. Dry.

Her voice comes distant now, your hands push at Jungkook’s shoulders when he noses, but only briefly before Jungkook’s pretty alpha tuts, holding you still and keeping you from squirming as he noses, pushing through your sweet skin, searching for something. Girl omega’s are so soft. So soft everywhere.

Jungkook loves it. Is this Omegaspace? Or pupspace? Or some combination of the two.

Something starts squirming underneath him, a chest rising and falling, a heartbeat beating rabbit prey fast. But the squirming stops as quickly as it begins. Jungkook's pretty alpha looms closer, coming to see what you're fussing for and cooing at your quiet squeaks and chirps.

Tae's wrist is close, close to Jungkook's teeth as she grabs your wrist and holds you steady. Restraining you gently. “Let Jungkook have at you pup, he’s been a very good omega, don’t you want to help soothe him?”

Of course, Tae does not notice that Jungkook's going after something new, and does not notice that this isn't normal soothing. Sucking at your chest is her favorite thing. She doesn't think anything strange of Jungkook's hungry licking and desperate sucking.

There is some sweet whining on the edge of Jungkook’s senses. Independent of the sweetness beneath his nose, the warmth reaches his lips and he opens his mouth to suck. His breath going ragged.

Closer, closer still, warm and soft against his face, like a nest made flesh, like Jungkook’s nest in one person.

Jungkook sucks at your chest, lips pressing once they find the source of it- of that smell. Your nipple on the roof of his mouth is exactly what he'd been missing. Comforting. You are so soft, so soothing. He likes it. There is no fire from heat with you here at his front and yet, Jungkook still burns. The sweet smell under your skin is closer this way. Jungkook needs it, needs you like water. Clinging.

His taste buds spark with something, just a little at first then more the more that he sucks. Jungkook makes a soft sound and Tae just shushes him. Alpha, he wants to speak, alpha found it! His squishy Omegaspace brain wants to tell Tae. The urge to show and tell is quickly overridden by the need for more.

It's so sweet. So fatty that Jungkook's head spins. Mouth filling with liquid that tastes like you, but a bit like Jinnie too.

You taste Milky.  

Jungkook's eyebrows come together and Tae teases, her fingers running against his cheek slowly filling. throat bobbing Her voice sounds like it does when she's grinning. Tae can be forgiven for not immediately realizing what’s happening because Jungkook is swallowing it down before any of it has a chance to make it to open air, gasping and sucking wildly. Hungry.

"Oh, tasting something good bunny?" Jungkook's sure she must be smiling even though his eyes are still closed. Still half asleep but waking up.

A little more, something hot and sweet fills his mouth, and Jungkook sucks it all down, more with every tight press of his lips. Your squirming stops and you sigh, going rim rod straight for a second and then relaxing.

You're staring up at Tae all dazed and cute, letting out sweet babbles of "mommy mommy-alpha mommy please." Your toes curling in the nest. But who knows what you're asking for.

tae reaches down and puts her fingers in your mouth, giving you something to suck at, quieting your desperate whimpers.

Jungkook doesn't like it, doesn't like her touching you. this milk is his- it belongs to him. The milk sweet and fatty fills his mouth, slowly at first, then more. You stop squirming below him, sighing in relief body going slack. Jungkook's arms go firm around your waist, holding you still, holding you close.

It's good, yummy even. Jungkook sucks more and more and more without really understanding. His heat-fried brain not sorting through the facts of the situation.

"Does Jungkook feel good little pup? Is he making you feel all tingly?" Tae teases, softly now, like she's conscious of the idea of waking everyone else up. She leans down crouching over to nip at your throat. Settling you. But there's nothing to settle, your head lol's to the side, staring blankly ahead. Whimpering. drooling around tae's fingers, she takes them out and slips them down your throat. stroking gently.

"Hopefully he doesn't bite you too sensitive because it's my turn once he's done, gonna squirm and cry for me gonna-" Tae breaks off, inhaling jagged.

Jungkook's tongue rolls against your nipple, keeping a small dribble from slipping down your body. Lips parted in ecstasy, a single drop drips from his tongue onto your skin, just a little.

But it's enough.

There is something pearly, dribbled down around your sternum. Almost translucent, but still white and cloudy.

Tae blinks like she can't really believe it.

Then she growls, loud, shocked. violent enough to wake the others. Whereas before she'd been stroking through Jungkook's hair, now her hand goes vicelike and tries to pull him off. Jungkook whines and squirms, unwilling to be parted from you until Tae growls again in warning.

Namjoon picks up his head from the nest at the sound. Jin blinks awake against his throat and Yoongi shifts and shuffles awake. Rubbing his eyes with a closed fist when he sits up.

When Tae finally succeeds in pulling him off of you, he looks almost hurt, pouting up at her. Tae's gaze eviscerates him. Their eyes narrow at the spill of it, the glimmer of milk on his lips. A bit of milk dribbles down Jungkook's cheek. Traveling down his collar bones to his pectorals and abs, gathering in his belly button, in the little furrow of skin between his lap and tummy.

Tae's finger gathers it on her fingertip and guides it back up to Jungkook's mouth, a breathless growl. Incredulous, near worshiping.

"Messy puppy."

How many more biological surprises could the pack possibly have in store for them? They're a little too tired to be particularly alarmed, and yet, they drag their bodies over. To make sure, to see.

To taste.

Hoseok hangs his head, his whine supine. "Jesus fucking Christ, you-" Namjoon looks away then looks back again. Like he can't quite bring himself to watch and can't quite tear his gaze away.

“I’ve only just gotten used to the idea of Yoongi knotting and now-"

Jin wordlessly rubs a hand over his face, Jimin doesn't say anything, trying to muscle Yoongi out of the way, looking down at you with something indescribable, at Jimin's movement, Namjoon's hands go to your elbow, your wrist, and Jin snaps.

"No, everyone behave. She is not a chew toy."

Everyone goes quiet, admonished. Tae continues to hold you, still looking down, and Jin realizes that if he's not careful, everyone is going to snap. Tae is going to snap. He can see it in the tremble of her body, the curl of her teeth over her lip, her control is seconds from snapping. Her scent spikes climbing higher and higher, almost smelling like she's in rut.

but you're his pup. jin bends under the force of his instincts, checking on your first. Jin leans over you, brushing the hair out of your eyes, and revealing your glassy fuzzy gaze.

"Daddy?" you ask, confused. Jin hasn't heard that name in a little while, not that he's complaining.

"Sweet little puppy, my sweet little pup, are you alright, is it too much?"

Your hand's press and release in the nest. "No just- just hurts- aches, Koo.” Your eyelashes flutter, “Koo makes it better.”

Jungkook is a possessive little thing, hisses and splutters and clings to your front. even as yoongi and namjoon try to get him off of you You squirm looking up at Tae and Yoongi and Jin, the haze cuts for a moment and they recognize your franticness as more than just overstimulation.

"Do you want us to get Jungkook off of you?" Yoongi asks, voice husky. Namjoon holds Jungkook prepared to wrench him off of you if you say so. Jungkook isn't in his right mind, but Yoongi can't help but watch as he sucks like a man starved, throat bobbing with every swallow. His cheeks warm and round-looking. Oh, oh this is-

Yoongi is getting hard. The skin around his new knot tugging. He really really thought that after this morning when you rode him like your life depended on it- that would have been that.

You nod then shake your head. "Want Mommy to choose- want Tae-tae."

Namjoon uses the hand in Jungkook’s hair to pick him up off of you for a second. Jin has to pinch the back of his neck to get his teeth to release. Your nipple is pink and bitten when his mouth finally leaves you.

They watch for a second, but it barely takes a moment before the milk is back, dribbling out, trailing down the curve of your breast. Jungkook is still half asleep. Shifting downward happily when he realizes the pack don’t mind it if he licks up whats spilled. Bending down to lap up what’s trailed down to your tummy and navel.

Tae's nostrils flare and her eyes are all pupil, dark and brown, and glassy. Yoongi jogs her out of her reverie.

"Tae." he asks, an edge of dominance to his voice that wouldn't have sounded the same yesterday, not before Yoongi had a knot. Yoongi shakes his head, wordlessly. And he sees Tae return to herself, just a little.

You squirm under Jungkook. Upset, lower lip wobbling. "No, I want, want Koo- it- it aches-" Tears bead at the edge of your eyes and Yoongi is not thinking, not truly, when he reaches down to feel.

You whine as Yoongi toys with your chest, fingers rubbing gently over your wet peaks, rolling them until more milk beads. Mesmerized. Slowly at first and then more aggressively, tugging at them until your back arches.

"Tae," Namjoon's voice is stressed, Jimin shuffles up beside her, offering a comforting touch on her shoulder. "Tae" Namjoon repeats, a bit more command in his voice, her gaze jerks up in his direction.

"Yes"

"Can you handle this without going into rut?"

"Yes alpha." Namjoon watches her for a second longer. Judging the haze in her eyes, and then tips his head down. Permission. But Namjoon is nearby, Namjoon is watchful and wont let any of them go too far.

It’s gentle- how the alphas manhandle you, placing you square in Namjoon's lap, reclining there for your mommy to have her turn. He can hold your wrists this way, you want to squirm, need to squirm. The ache is overwhelming. You just want to full feeling to end. Jungkook was so close to making it go away.

“Be still little treasure, sweet sweet pup, let Taetae have what’s hers.”

Jungkook tries to go back. But Tae doesn't let him, muscling him out of the way until she growls and nips. Speaking with snarls and whines and not with words. But Jungkook is but a pup beneath Tae's play wrestling. She's always been stronger than him and after a brief scuffle of push and pull, he whines. Resting his head on your shoulder.

Tae can hardly think through it. Her pup, her sweet little pup, chest swelling from her attention. Was it her sucking that did this? Was it her sucking that tugged your biological impulse until it shifted into real change?

You are so perfect she could cry, she could knot the air with how horny it makes her.

Tae looks at your face, your tears spill down your cheeks and your voice cracks, "Mommy?” you think if Tae checks, if she makes sure that you’re okay, everything will be fine.

Tae lowers herself gently over you, hair tickling your skin, and connects her mouth to your chest.

Tae is immediately gone, milk filling her mouth that tastes like ambrosia, like the heavens made liquid, like home. she grinds her popped knot against the nest as she sucks and sucks and sucks. immune to your squealing. Hand reaching down to paw uncaring of your overstimulation. You're as wet between your legs as you are on your chest. Her brain is a mess of more and more and more.

For a second, Tae's alpha convinces her that she's actually done it, she's actually pupped you. Why else would you be sweetening so much? Why else would you be like this, sweet and swollen on her tongue.

You're getting slick all over the nest again, Tae can feel slick gathering around her wrist, fingers losing their concentration, so focused on getting more milk in her mouth, sucking that she forgets to finger you properly. Your chest is so sensitive you feel like you could scream. Every suck makes you sob in overstimulation.

Above you, Yoongi curses.

Each packmate must have their turn with you, once they all rouse and confusion quickly melts away into downright giddiness. It's dizzying, your eyes are closed half the time, and the other half you're not sure you can make sense of what's infront of you either.

Brain settling into that place where everything feels good, where nothing matters but the pleasure and the soft praises falling from their mouths. Namjoon muscles Tae out of the way for a taste after she's turned slack-jawed and milk-drunk. And his spiky head pressed against your skin makes you feel- makes you-

Obey obey obey. You lose track of what’s happening, but your pack does give you what you want, what your body needs. You don’t have to squirm too much before someone, one of your alpha’s or is it Yoongi? Shuffling between your legs to bury his head in your chest.

Having them feed from you is a flurry of sensations. They bury their faces in your chest, hair tickles skin, stubble pressing. Someone giggles, Tae maybe. She presses a kiss to your button mouth. Eyes furrowed as you cry and cry and cry.

You don’t understand why you’re crying, why you’re overwhelmed. But you don’t need to think too hard about it or anything. Any needs that you do have are taken care of.

The pack always know what you need, that you need to feel steady, held and kept. the second you start to push. They restrain you.

Why would you even need a breeding bench when you have your packmates to keep you still? There are hands holding you down everywhere, your wrists, your ankles. Your knees. You push against their touch just to feel them put you in your place.

And as much as you struggle to admit it, you do feel better, and less tense. Less full. Less like a rubber band poised to snap when they pull back.

You cum like that, fingers in your pussy, mouth around your nipple. You don't know how much you have or how much milk they're taking from you but it's enough to leave the alpha's milk drunk and dopey. Even Jinnie is a little dazed from it when he has his turn.

It shouldn't surprise you that Yoongi is the gentlest, pushing Namjoon away after you've come, kissing him, cursing low at the taste in his mouth.

"Really hyung, your mate, fuck-"

"Fuck." Yoongi agrees. Nosing at your chest before he latches, lips sucking your nipple into his tongue, waiting for that first spark. And oh- oh- drinking from you feels like cuddling. You could call him a sap and you'd be right but there's something so instinctual about it. He knots and you give milk. Round and round your instincts go on the merry-go-round until both of you get off.

Who knows maybe your body stopped and waited to make the shift until Yoongi's did.

You only really squirm when Jin guides Hoseok down. He's blushy and tries to pull back, But the pack omega doesn’t take his shyness for an answer without a no. All pups need to eat, all pups need to get their fill. Your milk smells so sweet, so filling. Lifeblood and love and satisfaction made sustenance. Your body wouldn’t be milking up so nicely if it wasn’t for your alpha’s. They should taste the result of their efforts.

Hoseok only lets himself take one mouthful, shivers rising up and down his body before he moves aside and lets Jimin have a taste.

Jimin- who almost immediately tries to bite and snarl. Nipping at your skin when tae jerks him away from you by his hair maw open. He's barely had a sit but that's enough for Jimin to turn feral. Immediately straining, immediately pulled in your direction. A dark purple bruise is already forming around your nipple. Too rough, Jin fusses, pulling a blanket over to you, building a nest around your body.

"No Jiminie- bad!"

Namjoon takes Jimin from Tae. The alpha snarls and splutters but whines when Namjoon snaps at his throat.

You are not lucid, not really. Eyes closed and reaching for your packmates. Someone touches you, hands frantically checking your body- but you want to tell them that Jiminie really- he just got a little teethie. It's okay. You're fine!

Tae bends to kiss it better. They guard you while the sound of snarls sound from the other side of the nest. Namjoon dealing with Jimin. They guard you. Their sweet milky pup, who could possibly be more precious?

After Yoongi has another turn, you decide dimly that it's a good thing, your body moving the edge of its tolerance and doing this. Lactating. Swelling with milk. Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've gone into heat.

After a few minutes, the bellies of your pack are warm nourished, and full. It’s okay, you can sit here like this, open and still for each of them to take a taste. Sucking your nipples pink and puffy.

“Is it permanent?” Jungkook slurs when he’s woken up a bit, yawning until his jaw pops, milk-drunk and sleepy. Nuzzling into your shoulder while Jimin gives you so much attention that you’re squirming (this time wearing Namjoon’s collar since someone needed to hold onto him and keep him from biting).

His ass glows where he sprawls and every time he so much as threatens to growl Namjoon leans over and pinches his sore behind. A warning that everything, all that sweet sweet milk in his tummy. Belongs to Alpha. Jimin can only have it if he's good.

“Is it gonna be like this all the time?"

There is a computer-cracking light on the edge of the nest, a square of light that Namjoon clicks through. Licking his lips again, although your milk no longer coats them. He brought it out earlier when Jin had questions about Yoongi, but now he’s glad to have close access to it.

“It’s fairly common with female omega’s, something about the extra glands and phantom pregnancies.” Namjoon’s voice has gone from hoarse to strong. Your milk on his throat.

Namjoon looks at you, then blushes and looks away.

You don’t know if you’ve ever made Namjoon blush like that. You still lay prone, blinking up at Tae. Wordless. Your brain is small under the feeling of so much attention. A tension in you is released easily. 

Jin gets up from the nest, so quick that he goes dizzy, he’s wearing boxers now, boxers, and a big shirt. Jin too had tasted you. A few swallows. Good, it tasted so good. But your head lolls in the nest to the side, letting out little shallow breaths as Jimin sucks at your chest, your other breast still swollen looking.

Oh, Jin's little pup. You're being so good.

Jin’s instincts bear down on him. An impressive weight that makes him buckle. “I need to go cook something. If everyone's going to eat but her- that’s- I-” Jin huffs and makes to leave the nest in a huff. determined and not the least bit wobbly.

Hoseok trails after. Lips glossy from milk, too flushed to think straight, tripping on the edge of the nest and hitting the door on the way out. Embarrassed a little- but then again everyone is paying attention to you so it goes without teasing.

Huh, the pack omega is leaving the nest. Does that mean the heat is over?

No not quite, you and Jungkook still burn with fever. It's just Jin's heat that's ended. Who knows, maybe one sip of your milk had his body reacting, reassuring him that the work is done, at least one omega got pupped during this heat (you certainly did not get pupped, the contraceptive did its duty, but your confused body has Jin's confused as well).

Although you squirmed initially, the fact of the matter is that once everyone's had a sip, your nipple sucked hard and glossy- it’s a little hard not to need it. The release of pressure, the tension. Your body makes more the more they suck.

You try to enjoy breakfast once Jin's made it, feeling warm and sleepy, bites fed to your mouth. Chewing and swallowing obediently. But it’s hard, you’re so tired. Unable to hold yourself up no matter how much they try and get you to. Limp propped against Yoongi's chest, Namjoon's, your body so heavy and so tired and now sore the second someone stops sucking.

No sooner has Yoongi slipped one of Hoseok’s shirts over your head than has wetness started to gather at the front and an uncomfortable pressure began to build. They give up and take it off because Tae is eyeing you hungrily and really. Your whines of displeasure and teary eyes are too much for them to handle. Simultaneously denied and overstimulated.

Tae sets you back against Jimin’s chest, the alpha holding around your middle. She may have had one sip earlier but now that they’ve established that yes feeding from you is something you need she’s going to hog you.

She ducks low, kissing your nose, your lips, your chin before she buries her head where you’re softest.

“Mommy mommy please.” You whine as she teases, using just her lips to mouth there, waiting until milk beads, sensitive, slip down your skin to lap it all up.

“Oh little pup, don’t want to let any go to waste? We can’t have that. You’re so sweet like this. How good you are- how lucky we are. Alpha’s fucked you so good you can’t help but milk up huh? Wanted a pup so bad that your body caught on before a pup did huh? How cute. Aren’t we so lucky Minnie?”

“So lucky,” Jimin groans, holding around your middle, hands pressed to your stomach. Slipping lower as Tae sucks.

There is some hushed whispering, a rustle of bed sheets, you blink up at the ceiling, and then a vibration sounds, and you let out a broken, “oh.” as it starts.

You turn, look, and Yoongi grins, tears bead at the corner of your eyes, but it’s hard not to rock up into it. You remember- the alphas putting a collection of vibrators and knots and dildos on the edge of the nest, in case they needed them. But it's a good reward now, an easy orgasm that hits you warm.

Your body is hungry for pleasure, endlessly hungry for it in heat. Tae laps up the center of your chest while she switches from tit to tit, both milk and sweat. Feral as she does it, a look down at her says her eyes are dark, teeth sharp.

But she’s so careful, so gentle as she sucks. Yoongi turns the vibration up higher, and you jerk, or try to. Sandwich in on all sides. Surrounded by them, carried to the precipice of pleasure by the vibrator pressed to your clit, keeping you pinned there beneath the waves of pleasure. So much. Too much. Your body is so sensitive from the last three days of this. You can’t possibly handle it.

“Can’t cum again, can’t Mommy, too- too little. Too much.” You babble, but Tae tuts. Pulling off of you, a bead of milk on her pink lips.

“Good pups cum as many times as their Mommy wants them to, come on pup, make a mess all over Mommy’s dress for me."

You obey her with a broken whimper.

~-~

notes:

namjoon is so fucking horny when he's talking about yoongi's knot and i lowkey love it, how kinda like- obviously guided by hornyness he is.

also it is 1000% the mating mark that's making yoongi have a knot like- his biology is all fucked up because beta's aren't supposed to mate, the hormones in his body that keep him neutral are being kinda 'adjusted' by the m/c's slick and mark and hormones.

me 🤝 the m/c, wanting to bite yoongi's nose.

i really wanted the scene with yoongi and the m/c to kinda be like- a final opus and like super intense, how did i do?

i struggled with writing some of the dialogue in this initially- which is so /not/ how writing usually goes for me, usually the dialogue is very easy to me but i worry that i'm getting a bit repetitive with my kinks.

honestly why do i feel the need to make the smut poetic like??? is this only for me or is this a thing???? "Yoongi fucks the same way he talks, sweet but firm. he cums that way too. Warm and slow. You feel every syllable and every drop." like thats so pretty.

the m/c bites tae because she's making yoongi overwhelmed and that's the m/cs job 😠.

okay but the reason why i describe yoongi as breathing heavy is because i personally may have...stumbled uppon a audio of his breathes and him breathing heavy and fuck if that isn't hot.

part of yoongi's smutt scene was inspired by badoobee's 'real man' so yeah, i don't really really really like the message of her song, but it is sexy so 🤷‍♀️

yoongi with the life fucked out of him: 😵‍💫 mc: i did a good job 🥰 honestly though in my mind he has trouble being in the same room as her after she litterally rides him until he can't cum anymore.

honestly jk and her holding hands while they're both getting fucked is such a cute image like fuck i love them so much. i love this version of jungkook so much- i'll always be happy with his charecter in bily.

dang, i really did make jungkook's parts super super horny.

i feel like everyone who reads this should know it's completely possible to make yourself lactate just from nipple stimulation like- even if you're male. lowkey when am i going to write a normal non-abo total power exchange fic with cisswap taegi turning the m/c into their little milksub, and they decide (because the m/c's mommies know best) that they'll put her through a sucking schedule to see if they can make her chest turn milky as an experiment! only to offer her milk up to all their friends ie the rest of bts, bonus points if she starts leaking when they're at a normal friend gathering and it turns into everyone trying it.

Similarly to how yoongi always pops a knot after this, i think the m/c also lactates through every heat after this. and then one day in the distant future after one heat it just...doesn't stop. And the pack realize it's a sign that she actually /does/ want to be knocked up or at least her inner omega has decided she's ready to actually be bred.

is this self indulgent? yes. do i care? no.

even i have to admit that i'm a little bit tired of writing smutt at this point tbh...but luckily we have just one chapter after this with smutt! and it's mostly aftercare and a lovely little spanking scene <3

[fangdokja]

"The first time I touched death, I vowed it wouldn’t be the last."

❤︎ Synopsis. In a world where death feels more intimate than life, a young criminal profiler hides a dangerous secret: an insatiable obsession with killers, driven by the thrill of catching them—and the forbidden desire to get closer than anyone ever should.

♡ Book. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF) : Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Serial Killer/s (?) x Fem. Detective! Reader

♡ Novella. Hybristophilia - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 9,380

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, suggestive themes, fear play, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, BDSM, depression and mental illnesses, implied suicidal tendencies, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descriptions of gore, implied abuse, unhealthy family dynamics

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving mental illnesses, self-harm, and suicide, some plot details of the original story were purposefully made ambiguous to fit the platform.

♡ A/N. I was stuck in the plot introduction 70% since Dec. 22, 2024 with this work. I just couldn't get the vibes done right. Until I realized that this was 9k words and can be posted already, ahhhhhh. I literally could've posted this earlier hjadskadjdslad. This is technically really, really, REALLY old work, tbh dsfjjdfkdsl. Like same age as Paternal Privilege. Also, I was so formal before in this blog, now I'm just weird tbh. Crack energy. ngahhhh. low-key my writing vs. my personality wahhaah. Also that synopsis is just sheeeshhh. I'm so excited to write the Forbidden Fruits stories. Legit. Extremely challenging to write, but satisfying. I have an upcoming Yandere! Family, Yandere! Fans, and this one, Yandere! Serial Killers. Finally found what to do. Yes, ALL of it is smutty reverse harem stories. This Part 1 mostly focuses on Reader lore.

The rain poured like a ceaseless baptism, a torrent that washed the blood from the cracked pavement and whispered the sins of the dead into the gutter. The city was a wretched beast—a labyrinth of neon lights and suffocating shadows, where humanity festered and decay thrived. It was here, in this urban purgatory, that you carved your name into the annals of justice. Rookie detective, they called you, but you were more than that. A prodigy. A virtuoso of the macabre symphony that was murder.

You stood at the edge of the crime scene, your breath curling in the air like ghostly smoke. The corpse lay sprawled across the asphalt, limbs twisted in a grotesque parody of life. Blood had pooled beneath the body, glistening black in the dim, flickering light of the streetlamp. The victim’s face—what was left of it—was frozen in a rictus of terror, eyes wide, mouth agape in a scream that would never be heard. A masterpiece of brutality.

The others hesitated, their hands trembling as they cataloged the scene, but not you. You stepped closer, the leather of your gloves creaking softly as you crouched down to examine the remains. The scent of copper and decay clung to the air, an invisible specter wrapping itself around your senses. Your gaze traced the jagged lines carved into the flesh, the deep incisions that spoke of rage, of obsession. You didn’t flinch. This wasn’t chaos to you. It was a puzzle, and every grotesque detail was a piece waiting to be placed.

“Detective,” a voice called from behind, hesitant. “We… we’ve got a partial print. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

You straightened, the weight of your coat shifting as you turned to face the forensics tech. The young man’s face was pale, his eyes darting nervously between you and the corpse. He held out a tablet, the illuminated screen displaying a magnified fingerprint. You nodded, taking the device and scanning the data with a clinical detachment that belied the storm brewing within you.

“It’s a start,” you said, your voice as cold and sharp as the night air. “Run it against every known database. Focus on violent offenders, repeat killers. He’s not new to this.”

The tech swallowed hard, nodding before scurrying off. You turned back to the body, your mind already piecing together the profile. Male, mid-thirties to forties. High intelligence, methodical. The precise incisions suggested medical knowledge or at least anatomical familiarity.

This wasn’t a crime of passion; it was art. A performance meant to shock and awe. He wanted to be seen. He wanted to be understood.

“He’s watching us right now,” you murmured, your breath ghosting over the victim’s lifeless eyes. It wasn’t paranoia. It was intuition—a sixth sense honed through years of studying the darkest recesses of the human mind. You scanned the surrounding buildings, the windows like darkened eyes peering down at you. Somewhere out there, he was hiding, basking in the chaos he had created.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your thoughts. You answered without looking at the screen, your voice a curt acknowledgment. “Detective speaking.”

“You’re quite something, aren’t you?” the voice on the other end drawled, rich with mockery and amusement. Male, smooth, confident. “Standing there in the rain, piecing me together like a puzzle. You’re just as brilliant as they say, maybe even more.”

Your heart quickened, but your expression remained impassive. “Who is this?”

A low chuckle, dark and velvety. “Let’s not pretend, Detective. You know exactly who I am. You’re holding my work in your hands, aren’t you? How does it feel to touch my masterpiece?”

Your grip tightened on the phone, the rain sliding off your glove like quicksilver. “Why don’t you come show me yourself? Or are you too much of a coward to face me?”

“Oh, feisty,” he purred. “I like that. But no, this is much more thrilling, don’t you think? The chase. The anticipation. You and me, dancing in the dark.”

“You won’t get away with this,” you said, your voice a blade honed to perfection. “I will find you.”

“Oh, I hope you do,” he replied, his tone shifting to something almost tender. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you, Detective. Someone who understands. Someone who can truly see me.”

The line went dead, leaving you standing in the rain with the echo of his voice lingering in your mind. A shiver coursed through you, not from the cold, but from the thrill. The hunt had begun, and you were already neck-deep in the abyss.

As the city’s lights flickered and the shadows deepened, you turned back to the crime scene. The others glanced at you, their faces a mix of awe and fear.

They didn’t understand. They couldn’t. This wasn’t just a job for you.

It was an obsession, a dance with darkness where every step brought you closer to the edge. And you couldn’t wait to see how far you could fall.

────────────

The mansion you called home was a monument to perfection—gleaming marble floors, chandeliers dripping with crystals, and walls adorned with paintings worth more than most people earned in a lifetime. It was the kind of place where silence reigned, not out of peace, but from suffocating control. A mausoleum masquerading as a home. The air always smelled of polished wood and cold steel, sterile and lifeless.

Your family was the kind people envied. Your father was a titan of business, a man whose name alone could inspire fear or awe depending on who spoke it. Your mother was the perfect socialite, a porcelain doll of grace and poise who never let her painted smile falter. And then there was you—the heir, the eldest child, the one meant to inherit it all.

Except no one envied you. Not if they looked closely enough.

“You’re a disappointment,” your father had said, his voice as sharp and cold as the winter air that seeped through the cracks in the mansion’s walls. He loomed over you, his tailored suit immaculate, his cufflinks gleaming like little knives. His eyes burned into you, assessing, judging, and finding you wanting. “Do you even want this life? Or are you content to sit there like a damn ghost?”

You had stared back at him, your face a mask of apathy, your eyes dull and distant. “I didn’t ask for this life,” you said, your voice flat, emotionless.

His slap came fast, sharp, and deliberate. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to sting. “You don’t get to choose. You’re my child, and you will uphold this family’s legacy.”

Your mother had watched from the corner of the room, her wine glass clutched tightly in manicured fingers. She didn’t intervene. She never did.

You were a disappointment to her, too. You didn’t have your father’s drive or her charm. You were quiet, withdrawn, always lurking in the corners of rooms during parties, your shoulders slumped and your expression unreadable. People whispered about you. The heir to an empire, and yet you carried yourself like a ghost.

Your younger siblings—perfect in their roles—thrived under the weight of your parents’ expectations. They were ambitious, charismatic, eager to please. Everything you weren’t. You avoided them as much as you could, retreating to the library or your room where no one would bother you.

Books were your only refuge, but even they failed to hold your attention for long. You flipped through pages without absorbing the words, your mind drifting to an endless void of nothingness. School was no better. Teachers despised your lack of effort, your unwillingness to engage. You could solve equations and recite facts with ease, but you didn’t care enough to try.

“You could be top of your class,” one teacher had told you once, her voice tinged with frustration. “Why won’t you put in the effort?”

You had shrugged. “What’s the point?”

She had stared at you like you’d just confessed to a murder.

The truth was, everything felt pointless. The world was gray, flat, lifeless. Food tasted bland, music sounded hollow, conversations felt like static. The people around you moved like automatons, their voices blending into a dull hum that barely registered.

You dragged yourself through each day, waiting for something—anything—to spark life within you. But nothing ever did. You were a shell, empty and hollow, drifting through life like a leaf caught in a current.

At home, the pressure mounted. Your father’s glares grew colder, your mother’s smiles more strained. “Why can’t you be like them?” she had hissed once, gesturing toward your siblings as they basked in the glow of parental approval. “Why can’t you care about something?”

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t care about anything.

Until that day.

———

It was a Wednesday—cold, gray, and unremarkable. You had come home from school, dragging your feet up the driveway lined with perfectly trimmed hedges. The front door was ajar, but you didn’t think much of it. You stepped inside, the sound of your shoes against the marble echoing through the empty house.

And then you smelled it.

Iron. Sharp and metallic, it filled your nostrils, cutting through the usual sterile scent of the house.

You paused, your heart giving the faintest flutter of something you couldn’t name.

“Mom?” you called out, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

No answer.

You moved further in, the silence pressing down on you like a weight. The air grew colder as you approached the living room, the scent of blood growing stronger. Your pulse quickened—not from fear, but from something else. Something that made your skin prickle and your breath hitch.

The door was slightly open, light spilling out onto the polished floor. You pushed it open, and the world changed.

Your parents were dead.

Your mother lay on the cold tile floor like a broken marionette, her body contorted into angles no living thing could endure.

Her neck had been slit from ear to ear, the severed carotid arteries gaping open like grotesque mouths. The blood spray, arterial and bright, had painted the walls in erratic arcs, a grotesque mural of violence. Her head tilted unnaturally backward, the deep incision almost severing the spinal column.

The skin of her neck had been parted with surgical precision, revealing the glistening white cartilage of her trachea and the dark, meaty coils of severed muscle beneath. Her eyes—wide, glassy, and unmoving—stared into eternity, their sclera stained pink by ruptured capillaries.

Your father was slumped against the far wall, his body a macabre tableau of suffering.

His chest cavity had been torn open, the rib cage shattered and spread like grotesque wings to reveal the glistening viscera within. His sternum had been cracked apart, jagged shards of bone jutting outward, some piercing the flesh around them like cruel splinters. The cavity was hollow now, organs displaced or missing entirely—perhaps taken as trophies or discarded in the frenzy.

The lungs and heart remained, barely recognizable, its walls torn and sagging like deflated balloons. Blood seeped sluggishly from its ruined chambers, mixing with the viscous, bile-stained fluid pooling around his torso. His intestines, severed and spilling, snaked out across the floor in tangled loops that glistened under the harsh overhead light.

But for the first time in your life.

...

You felt alive.

The apathy that had gripped you for years shattered in an instant. Your heart raced, your breath caught, your fingers trembled. You should have been horrified. You should have screamed, cried, run for help.

But you didn’t.

────────────

You stepped closer, your movements slow, deliberate, as if approaching a sacred altar. The blood seeped into your sneakers, warm and sticky, but you didn’t care. You crouched beside your mother’s body, reaching out a hesitant hand to touch her lifeless face. Her skin was cold, waxy, but your pulse raced. Your fingers brushed against her blood, smearing it across your skin like a ritualistic paint.

The door creaked behind you, and you turned sharply, your heart leaping—not in fear, but in anticipation. Standing there was the man responsible, his silhouette stark against the dim light filtering in from the hallway. He was tall, his face obscured by the hood of his jacket, but you could see his eyes—cold, calculating, devoid of remorse.

He looked at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, a slow, crooked smile spread across his face.

“You’re not scared,” he said, his voice low, almost amused. “Interesting.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes locked on his. You felt something stir within you, a connection, a pull. You didn’t hate him. You didn’t want to run or scream. Instead, you wanted to understand him. To unravel the mystery of the man who had brought such beauty into your sterile, empty world.

“You’re different,” he murmured, stepping closer. His boots squelched in the blood, the sound sharp and wet. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re like me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a thrill that you couldn’t explain. You didn’t move as he crouched before you, his gloved hand reaching out to cup your face. His touch was cold, but it didn’t bother you.

“You’ll remember this day,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “And one day, you’ll thank me.”

He stood, pulling the hood tighter around his face, and turned to leave. You didn’t stop him. You didn’t cry out or beg for help. You just sat there, staring at the blood-soaked floor, your mind racing, your heart pounding.

In that moment, something inside you shifted.

You weren’t afraid of death.

You were fascinated by it, drawn to its cold embrace like a moth to flame.

You didn’t tell anyone about the man or his words. He was your secret, a shadow etched into your soul.

With the memory of his smile lingered in your mind, he would be a ghost that would haunt you for years to come.

────────────

You didn’t know how much time passed. Minutes, hours—it was meaningless. You were kneeling in the middle of the carnage, your school uniform soaked in blood that wasn’t yours. The hem of your skirt clung to the sticky floor, and the faint hum of the refrigerator in the next room filled the void of silence. The bodies of your parents lay sprawled before you like grotesque marionettes, strings cut and discarded.

You tilted your head, staring, unblinking. You traced the patterns of blood with your eyes—the way it spidered out in thin, spindly veins, pooling in the cracks of the marble. It was beautiful in its brutality, the symmetry and chaos mingling in a way that stirred something inside you.

A distant noise pulled you from your trance. The sound of footsteps. Heavy boots against the floor, muffled voices carrying through the still air. The door creaked open further, and the cold wash of blue and red lights from the police cruisers outside spilled into the room.

“Jesus Christ,” someone whispered, the words trembling on their lips.

You didn’t turn to look. You stayed where you were, your gaze locked on the corpses. The air seemed to grow heavier, oppressive with the weight of death.

“Kid?” a soft voice called out, tentative, careful. A man stepped into view, his face pale beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. He was a detective, judging by the coat slung over his shoulders. His badge glinted faintly at his hip. “Are you… Are you okay?”

You blinked slowly, tilting your head as you finally tore your gaze away from the bodies to look at him. His eyes widened slightly, and he took a step back, as though your stare had unnerved him.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice devoid of emotion.

He crouched down, careful not to step into the blood. His face softened, his voice lowering into a soothing tone, the kind reserved for skittish animals or traumatized children. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. I’m Detective Shiu Kong. Can you tell me your name?”

You told him, your tone as flat as ever. He glanced at the carnage behind you, his jaw tightening. “Did you see anything? Hear anything?”

You shook your head. “No. I just… found them like this.”

His eyes searched your face, looking for signs of tears, fear, something—anything. But you gave him nothing.

Another officer stepped into the room, his hand flying to his mouth as he gagged. “Oh, God… This is… It’s like something out of a nightmare.”

Detective Shiu shot him a look. “Pull it together, Itadori. Go secure the perimeter. Make sure no one contaminates the scene.”

Itadori nodded quickly and left, his footsteps retreating down the hall. Shiu turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening again. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out, I promise. But I need you to come with me, alright? Let’s get you out of here.”

He extended a hand, but you didn’t take it. Instead, you stood on your own, your legs stiff from kneeling so long. Blood clung to your shoes, leaving faint red imprints as you stepped back.

Another officer approached, this one a woman with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor. “We’ll need to ask her some questions,” she said softly, her gaze flickering to you. “But let’s give her some time.”

You allowed them to guide you into another room, away from the bodies, though the image was burned into your mind. The house felt colder now, emptier.

Behind you, the investigators began their work. You could hear their voices, low murmurs tinged with horror and disbelief.

“The killer had to have known them. This wasn’t random.”

“Look at the precision of the wounds. This wasn’t just rage—this was deliberate.”

“There’s no sign of forced entry. They let him in.”

The words filtered through the haze in your mind, but you didn’t react. You sat on the edge of a pristine white couch, your hands folded neatly in your lap, your bloodstained fingers leaving faint smears on your skin.

Shiu knelt in front of you, his face lined with concern. “I know this is hard,” he said gently. “But we’re going to catch the person who did this. I promise.”

You met his gaze, your expression blank. Inside, though, something stirred. Catch him? You didn’t want them to catch him. You wanted to understand him.

And for the first time, you spoke a question that sounded innocent, but carried a deeper, darker hunger. “What kind of person would do something like this?”

Shiu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Someone broken. Someone dangerous. But don’t worry, we’ll keep you safe.”

Safe. You didn’t care about being safe. You cared about him. About the mind that had created that tableau of death. About the hands that had painted your parents’ blood across the floor.

As the investigation swirled around you, as officers snapped photos and collected evidence, you sat in silence, a strange, budding fascination growing in your chest.

The world wasn’t gray anymore.

For the first time, it was alive with color.

────────────

The interrogation room was a sterile box—a windowless void bathed in the cold fluorescence of a single overhead light. It smelled faintly of bleach and despair, the walls closing in with an oppressive, airless silence. You sat in the center of it, small and motionless, like a porcelain doll abandoned on a shelf. Your hands rested on the table, palms upturned, the faint streaks of your parents’ blood still etched into the creases of your fingers.

On the other side of the glass, the detectives gathered, watching you in a hushed conference of disbelief and unease.

“She hasn’t cried,” one of them murmured, his voice tight. “Not once.”

Detective Shiu, the man who had been first on the scene, leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His brow was furrowed, his expression grim. “She’s in shock,” he said quietly. “Or maybe she’s too scared to process what happened. It’s not unusual in kids this young.”

“She’s twelve, Shiu,” another detective said, his voice wavering. “Twelve. I’ve seen kids lose it over their goldfish dying, and she’s sitting there like… like she’s made of stone.”

A younger officer, fresh out of the academy, spoke up hesitantly. “Her siblings… They’re in the next room. Crying their eyes out, clinging to the social workers like lifelines. But her? She hasn’t even asked about them.”

Shiu glanced through the glass, his gaze hardening as he studied you. “Kids process trauma differently. Just because she’s not falling apart doesn’t mean she’s not affected. Hell, it might hit her later—when she’s alone. When there’s no one left to be strong for.”

“Strong?” The younger officer scoffed. “She’s twelve. She shouldn’t have to be strong. She should be screaming for her parents.”

Shiu turned sharply to face him, his voice a low growl. “And what exactly do you expect her to do? She came home and found her parents butchered. Her entire world’s been shattered. Maybe this is her way of surviving it.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on all of them. Beyond the glass, you sat unmoving, your eyes fixed on the corner of the table.

“She’s been sitting like that for over an hour,” the first detective muttered, his gaze flicking nervously toward the one-way mirror. “Not a single word unless we ask her something directly. No tears, no outbursts. Nothing.”

Shiu rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion etched into his features. “What do you want me to say? That it’s normal? It’s not. But we don’t know her. We don’t know what’s going on in her head.”

The younger officer swallowed hard, his voice dropping. “The scene was… It was bad, Shiu. Worse than anything I’ve seen in years. The bodies were staged, for Christ’s sake. Staged like it was some kind of art project. And she sat in the middle of it like she didn’t even see the blood.”

Shiu’s jaw tightened. “I saw it too, rookie. And I’m telling you, that girl isn’t our priority right now. The killer is. Focus on the evidence.”

But the rookie couldn’t let it go. “Did you notice her hands? The way she was staring at them when we brought her in? Like she was memorizing the blood. Like it was… I don’t know, fascinating to her.”

“That’s enough,” Shiu snapped, his voice a blade that cut through the room.

But the words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

The group fell into an uneasy silence as they turned their attention back to you. Inside the room, you shifted slightly, your fingers curling against the table. Your movements were slow, deliberate, as though you were cataloging each sensation—the cool surface of the metal, the faint stickiness of dried blood.

“You said she’s the eldest,” another detective said quietly, breaking the silence. “She’s probably been under pressure her whole life. Heir to the family fortune, right? Big shoes to fill, parents pushing her to be perfect. Maybe she was just… conditioned for this kind of detachment.”

“Maybe,” Shiu muttered, though the doubt in his voice was palpable. “But that doesn’t explain why she’s so damn calm. I’ve seen soldiers with less composure after a firefight.”

Another officer entered the observation room, holding a folder thick with case files and photographs. She set it down on the table with a heavy thud. “Preliminary findings from the scene,” she said. “And it’s… a mess. No forced entry, so the killer either had a key or they were let in. The wounds are precise—surgical, almost. We’re looking at someone with medical training, maybe an ex-surgeon.”

Shiu opened the folder, his eyes scanning the grisly photographs. “Anything else?”

The officer hesitated, then lowered her voice. “The way the bodies were positioned… It wasn’t random. It was deliberate. Like he wanted to send a message. And the kids’ rooms? Untouched. He had the chance to hurt them but didn’t. This was about the parents.”

“Deliberate,” Shiu echoed, his voice a low growl. He glanced at you through the glass, his gaze darkening.

“She’s a victim, Shiu,” the officer said firmly, sensing his hesitation. “Don’t let your gut get in the way of the facts.”

He nodded slowly, though his eyes remained on you. “Get a full psych eval on her as soon as possible. And keep an eye on her siblings. They’ve been through hell.”

As the others filed out, Shiu lingered, his gaze locked on your tiny figure in the interrogation room. Your face was a blank slate, devoid of emotion, your eyes distant, like you were staring into another world entirely.

“Kid,” he murmured under his breath, his voice heavy with pity and unease. “What the hell’s going on in that head of yours?”

Inside the room, you shifted your gaze to the one-way mirror, your expression unreadable. Somewhere deep inside you, beneath the calm, beneath the emptiness, a quiet, gnawing hunger began to stir.

────────────

The funeral was a cold, desolate affair. Rain fell in relentless sheets, drumming against the black umbrellas that formed a sea of mourners. The sky, a bruised expanse of gray, seemed to weep for the tragedy that had hollowed out an entire family. The scent of wet earth and wilting flowers hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sterile tang of grief and formaldehyde.

Six children stood in a line, each a mirror of their parents’ legacy. Their faces bore the delicate symmetry of their bloodline, but grief had marred their perfection. Red-rimmed eyes, trembling hands, and heaving sobs betrayed their anguish. They clung to the adults around them—grandparents, aunts, uncles—like lifelines in an unrelenting storm. All except you.

You stood apart from the others, a silent silhouette against the backdrop of the open grave. Your posture was unnervingly composed, your expression a mask of indifference. The black dress you wore hung loosely on your slight frame, rain streaking the fabric like tears you refused to shed. While your siblings cried openly, you remained still, your gaze fixed not on the caskets being lowered into the ground, but somewhere beyond—into the void.

Detective Shiu watched you from a respectful distance, his sharp eyes missing nothing. The rain plastered his raven hair to his forehead, and his trench coat was soaked through, but he didn’t move. There was something about you that gnawed at him, something that refused to be dismissed as mere shock or stoicism.

When the priest finished his sermon, the mourners began to disperse, their sobs fading into the sound of rain. Shiu approached you cautiously, his boots sinking slightly into the mud with each step. You didn’t acknowledge his presence at first, not until he stopped beside you, his voice low and measured.

“You’re a strong kid,” he said, his tone laden with the kind of empathy that came from years of witnessing human suffering. “Stronger than most adults I’ve met.”

You didn’t respond, your eyes still locked on the horizon.

He followed your gaze, finding nothing but the skeletal outline of trees in the distance. “Your siblings,” he continued, “they’ve got people to lean on. Family. Support. But you…” He hesitated, studying you carefully. “You’ve been handling this on your own, haven’t you?”

Still, you said nothing.

Shiu sighed, his breath misting in the cold air. “I know it feels like the world’s ended. Like nothing makes sense anymore. But it’s okay to let it out, you know. To feel something.”

Finally, you turned to look at him, your expression as blank as the tombstones dotting the cemetery.

Shiu’s jaw tightened, his instincts flaring. He’d spent decades reading people, peeling back the layers they tried to hide. And you… You were like a locked vault, impenetrable and cold.

But then he saw it—a flicker, brief but unmistakable. A spark of something behind your eyes when he shifted the subject.

“The case,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. “We’re working hard to catch whoever did this. It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll get them. I promise you that.”

Your posture changed, barely perceptible. Your shoulders stiffened slightly, and your gaze, previously distant, sharpened just enough for him to notice.

“What do you know so far?” you asked.

The question was casual, but to Shiu, it was like a flare in the dark. Most kids in your position wouldn’t want to hear the details, wouldn’t want to relive the horror. But you… You were curious.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Not much yet. We’re looking into suspects. Someone close to the family, maybe. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. It wasn’t random.”

Your head tilted slightly, your expression unreadable. “Knew what they were doing?”

“Yeah,” Shiu said, his voice lowering. “The wounds were precise. Almost surgical. This wasn’t someone acting out of rage or desperation. It was planned. Methodical.”

For the briefest moment, your lips curved into something resembling a smile, though it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Shiu’s stomach churned.

“You’re interested in the case,” he said, more of an observation than a question.

You shrugged, your gaze drifting back to the open grave. “I just want to know why.”

“Why?”

“Why they did it,” you said simply. “Why my parents. Why like that.”

Shiu studied you for a long moment, his mind racing. He could see it now, the faint glimmer of fascination in your otherwise dead eyes. It wasn’t grief that drove you—it was curiosity. And that disturbed him more than he cared to admit.

“I’ll let you know when we find something,” he said finally, his voice tight.

You nodded, turning away from him and back to the grave as the caskets disappeared into the earth.

As Shiu walked away, a cold dread settled in his chest. He didn’t have proof, not yet. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t just a victim of this tragedy. You were something else entirely. Something he couldn’t name.

And deep down, he wondered if the killer hadn’t just taken your parents. He wondered if, in some twisted way, they’d awakened something in you.

Something that would never go back to sleep.

────────────

Detective Shiu Kong leaned back in his chair, the muted hum of the interrogation room’s fluorescent lights buzzing in his ears. Across the table, you sat motionless, hands folded neatly in your lap, posture unnaturally straight for someone your age. The muted gray walls and steel table seemed to swallow you whole, a tiny figure in an oppressive void. Your face was calm, eerily so—no tears, no tremors, no reddened eyes like your siblings. Just that neutral, detached expression, as if you were waiting out a dull lecture at school.

The detective studied you, his brow furrowed. His years as a profiler had trained him to see what others couldn’t, to read the nuances of behavior that betrayed inner turmoil. But with you? It was a blank slate. No tells, no cracks in the armor. If anything, your stillness felt intentional, like the quiet before the eye of a storm.

“It takes a village to make a killer,” Shiu said, breaking the heavy silence. His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the clinical environment around you. “Someone doesn’t just wake up one day and decide to do what they did to your parents. It’s… fragile, the way a person breaks.”

You said nothing, but your gaze flicked to him for the briefest of moments before returning to the cold metal surface of the table. It wasn’t much, but he saw it—a faint glimmer of something. Interest? Annoyance? He wasn’t sure.

Shiu exhaled, rubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw. “I know you don’t like to talk much,” he continued. “And I’m not here to force you. But… I’m curious. You’ve been through something no one should ever have to experience. I’d like to hear your thoughts. About the case.”

You finally moved, tilting your head slightly, your eyes narrowing as you studied him. For a moment, he thought you wouldn’t respond. Then, softly, you spoke. Your voice was quiet but carried a certain weight, an eerie calmness that unsettled even him.

“They weren’t sloppy,” you said, almost to yourself. “Not at all.”

Shiu leaned forward, elbows on the table, nodding for you to continue.

“The cuts,” you said, your tone clinical, detached. “Precise. Efficient. The carotid artery was severed on my mother. Do you know how hard it is to make that cut on the first attempt? There’s a lot of tissue in the way—muscle, skin. It’s easy to miss. But they didn’t. They knew exactly what they were doing.”

Shiu’s eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, letting you unravel your thoughts.

“And my father,” you continued, your voice taking on a rhythm now, faster, like a scientist presenting a theory. “They cracked his sternum. That requires force—an immense amount of it. Whoever did this either used a tool, or they’re physically very strong. Maybe both.”

You leaned back slightly, a faint crease forming between your brows. “But it wasn’t random. They didn’t damage the lungs. Or the heart. That’s unusual for a chest cavity opening, isn’t it?”

Shiu’s lips parted slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in surprise. “You’re right,” he admitted. “It is unusual. We assumed they were interrupted before finishing.”

You shook your head, the first real emotion flickering across your face—a faint, almost imperceptible trace of impatience. “No. That wasn’t the point. It wasn’t an unfinished job. It was… intentional. A display. Like they wanted us to see inside him.”

Shiu stared at you, his mind working overtime to process your words. “A display,” he repeated. “You think it was symbolic?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your voice tinged with a strange, almost morbid fascination. “Or maybe it’s a message. They took care to leave certain things intact. Why? If it was just rage, they’d have destroyed everything. But they didn’t. It’s methodical. Almost surgical.”

The room felt colder now, the air thick with tension. Shiu leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours. “And what do you think they’re trying to say?”

For the first time, you hesitated, your gaze dropping to the table. Then you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. “That they’re better than us. Smarter. More… evolved.”

The words hung in the air like a blade poised to drop. Shiu studied you, his chest tight with unease. There was something about the way you spoke—not just the content, but the tone. Detached, yet brimming with an almost manic curiosity. It reminded him of someone dissecting a rare specimen under a microscope.

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” he said carefully.

You shrugged, your shoulders barely moving. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Everything else is just… noise.”

Shiu’s brow furrowed, his gut instinct screaming at him. “You’re not like your siblings,” he said finally. “They cry. They grieve. You… don’t.”

Your gaze snapped to his, sharp and unyielding. “Is that what you want? Tears?” There was no malice in your tone, only a quiet challenge. “Would that make it easier for you to understand?”

Shiu didn’t flinch, but he felt the weight of your words settle heavily on his shoulders. “No,” he said softly. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze dropping back to the table. The room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the fluorescent lights. Shiu sat back, exhaling slowly.

“You’re smart,” he said finally. “Smarter than you let on.”

You said nothing, but the faintest flicker of an annoyed smile ghosted across your lips—a blink-and-you-miss-it moment that sent a chill down Shiu’s spine.

He knew then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you weren’t just a victim in this story. You were something else entirely. Something he couldn’t quite put into words, but that set every instinct on edge.

And as he walked out of the room that day, he made a silent promise to himself: he’d watch you. Not out of pity or duty, but because deep down, he knew that whatever path you were heading down, it was one he couldn’t ignore.

────────────

Detective Shiu Kong had seen too many young lives derailed by tragedy, twisted by trauma, but you—there was something about you that unsettled him deeply. It wasn’t just the apathy, the emptiness that radiated off you like a thick, suffocating fog. It was the moments where that apathy cracked, and something far more dangerous seeped through—an unnatural hunger, a sharpness to your gaze that reminded him of a predator observing prey.

Your family, as it turned out, hadn’t cared for you in the way families were supposed to. It was in the brittle silences of the house you were now trapped in, the way the distant relatives who took over arrangements barely addressed you, their perfunctory actions revealing more about duty than love. Your siblings clung to one another, huddling for warmth against the cold, but you stayed apart.

Always apart.

Watching.

Thinking.

Silent.

———

Shiu didn’t know what compelled him to watch over you.

He was a man who worked alone, who didn’t believe in getting attached to anyone, least of all children with gaping wounds that no amount of therapy could stitch closed.

But every instinct in his body screamed that you were a ticking bomb, and he couldn’t ignore it.

He noticed the small, alarming habits first. The way you would skip meals for days on end, your thin frame growing even thinner. The way you could sit for hours, unmoving, staring at the same spot on the wall like you were seeing something no one else could. The way you seemed to breathe only out of necessity.

Yet when the topic of death, of cases, came up, you transformed. Your eyes would sharpen, your monotone voice would take on a rhythm, a tremor of something almost joyous.

“You know, not eating won’t make the pain disappear,” he told you one day, sitting across from you in the dim light of the room you had claimed as your own. The windows were closed, the air stale.

You didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him. But then, in the stillness, you said, “What was the autopsy report for the victim in the Wyler case?”

Shiu blinked, caught off guard. “You’re not eating, and that’s what you’re interested in?”

“Yes,” you replied simply, turning your head just slightly to meet his gaze. Your eyes weren’t those of a child’s. They were ancient and cold, dissecting him. “The way they were dismembered. There were inconsistencies in the photos. It didn’t seem... human.”

For a moment, Shiu wondered if he should leave, report you to someone better equipped to handle whatever this was.

But then he sighed, his professional curiosity outweighing his unease. “The dismemberment wasn’t human, not entirely,” he admitted. “The killer used a custom blade, likely self-made. Something serrated, designed to maximize tissue damage while minimizing effort. Efficient but cruel.”

You sat up, for the first time showing a glimmer of true interest. “Efficient but cruel,” you murmured, as if tasting the words. “Like they wanted to see how far they could go before the body failed. A test, maybe.”

Shiu raised a brow. “That’s a very specific theory.”

You shrugged. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Make theories?”

Shiu leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “You realize this isn’t normal for someone your age, right?”

“Normal is boring,” you replied, your voice flat but tinged with something darker. “And you keep talking to me. So, maybe I’m useful to you.”

Shiu didn’t have an answer to that. He didn’t want to admit you were right.

———

Over the weeks, he started bringing you details of cases—not the classified, sensitive material, but enough to give you a taste of what he was dealing with. It was against protocol, sure, but Shiu wasn’t stupid. He saw how your apathy shifted when you had something to analyze.

It wasn’t about healing you; it was about keeping you from descending into something far worse.

“What do you see here?” he asked one evening, spreading out crime scene photos on the desk between you. The images were brutal—blood splatter patterns streaked across concrete walls, a body slumped in the corner, its throat carved open with surgical precision.

You leaned in, your fingers tracing the edges of one photo. “The blood arc here,” you said, pointing to a particularly vivid spray. “It’s too high for someone who’s left-handed.”

Shiu frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Because if they were left-handed, the angle would’ve been sharper, closer to this direction.” You gestured with your hand, mimicking the trajectory. “They used their right hand to strike, but... they weren’t dominant with it. See how the arc stutters here? Like they hesitated.”

Shiu stared at the photo, then at you. “That’s... not bad,” he said cautiously. “But why would they use their non-dominant hand?”

“To confuse you,” you replied, your tone matter-of-fact. “Throw off the profile. They’re probably ambidextrous, but they want you to think they’re clumsy. A false lead.”

Shiu shook his head, a grim smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got a knack for this.”

You looked at him, and for the first time, there was a flicker of something almost resembling emotion.

“I want to do what you do,” you said. “Study them. Understand them. I think... I could be good at it.”

Shiu’s chest tightened. He wanted to tell you no, to tell you to choose something else, something lighter, but he knew it would be a lie.

You weren’t meant for light.

You thrived in the shadows, where the unspeakable lived.

“All right,” he said after a long pause. “But if you’re serious about this, you need to take it seriously. No more skipping meals. No more locking yourself away. You put in the effort, or you don’t do it at all.”

You tilted your head, as if considering his words, and then nodded. “Deal.”

Shiu watched you carefully as you returned your attention to the photos, the faintest hint of life returning to your features. He didn’t know if he was helping you or enabling something far worse, but one thing was certain: you weren’t a victim anymore.

You were something else entirely.

────────────

The years between 12 and 18 passed like a blur of clinical precision and relentless hunger. You became the youngest graduate in criminal profiling, earning honors, accolades, and the kind of begrudging respect that even the most senior officers had to acknowledge.

But for all the brilliance you displayed on paper, your presence unnerved people. Outside of work, you remained distant, a spectral figure with dead eyes and an air of quiet detachment. In social settings, you were polite but devoid of warmth, a mannequin in human form.

In the field, however, you were a force of nature. Cases brought you to life in a way nothing else could. It wasn’t just work to you—it was an obsession, an itch buried deep in your psyche that only bloodied crime scenes and twisted puzzles could scratch.

To most, your drive was admirable, a testament to youthful ambition. To those who worked with you, it was terrifying.

———

It had been a week since the “Red Veil Butcher” case had been closed. A particularly brutal spree killer who targeted victims with surgical precision, leaving behind bodies that were less human than anatomical exhibits.

The debrief was supposed to be routine, a moment of closure for the department. The victim’s family was present, a grieving mother clutching her child’s scarf like it was the last tether to her sanity. Officers murmured words of comfort, offering coffee and awkward pats on her shoulder. You sat in the corner, silent, observing the proceedings like they were an annoying obstacle.

When one of the senior officers asked you for your thoughts, you didn’t hesitate.

“The mother missed key signs,” you said bluntly. “The killer stalked her daughter for months, even sent warning letters. She should’ve contacted the police earlier.”

The room went silent, save for the soft, choked sobs of the grieving mother. Every pair of eyes turned to you, wide with disbelief.

“Jesus Christ, have some empathy!” one of the officers hissed. “That’s her child.”

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “It’s the truth. She ignored the signs, and the result was fatal. If anything, she should—”

“Enough!” The commanding officer’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. “Leave. Now.”

You left without another word, though the rage simmering behind you was palpable.

———

Shiu Kong didn’t call you immediately. He waited, as he always did, giving you time to simmer in your own thoughts.

When he finally summoned you to his office, the look on his face was enough to tell you this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it.

You shrugged. “I said what needed to be said. She was negligent—”

“Stop,” Shiu snapped. “Do you think that helps anyone? Do you think saying that to a grieving mother is going to bring her daughter back? Or make her feel anything other than guilt?”

You narrowed your eyes. “It’s not about feelings. It’s about preventing the next victim. If people understood the consequences of their negligence—”

“This isn’t just about logic!” Shiu slammed his hand on the desk, making you flinch ever so slightly.

“Do you know why you’re still here, why you haven’t been pulled from this line of work entirely? Because you’re good. Damned good. But if you can’t figure out how to make people listen to you without alienating them, you’re useless. Do you understand that?”

You looked away, lips pressed into a thin line.

Shiu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, I know you don’t care about people. I know empathy doesn’t come naturally to you, and I’m not asking you to fake something you’re not. But you need to learn how to communicate in a way that gets results. That means learning how to mask your apathy, at least enough that people aren’t too angry or upset to work with you.”

“That’s... illogical,” you muttered. “Why should I—”

“Because obstruction is your worst enemy,” Shiu interrupted, his tone softening slightly. “And you hate inefficiency, don’t you?”

You froze, his words striking a chord deep within you.

“You don’t do this for glory or fame,” Shiu continued.

“You do it because solving cases is what makes you tick. So think of this as another skill to master—another tool in your arsenal. Learn how to handle people, or you’ll be left behind. And I won’t be able to protect you.”

You hesitated, then gave a reluctant nod. “Fine.”

———

You weren’t perfect, but you adapted. You learned how to soften your edges, how to mimic the empathy that people expected. You nodded at grieving families, offered hollow condolences, and kept your cutting observations to yourself until you were behind closed doors.

It was exhausting, like wearing a second skin that didn’t quite fit, but it worked. People stopped glaring at you. They started listening.

But in private, in the confines of your work, you were the same. Clinical. Relentless. Brilliant.

———

Shiu handed you a file one evening, his expression unreadable. “This one’s tricky,” he said. “The killer calls themselves ‘Red Rose.’ They leave roses at every crime scene, but no fingerprints, no DNA. Just the flowers.”

You opened the file, scanning the photos. The victims were posed in strange, almost reverent positions, their bodies adorned with thorny vines.

“They’re making a statement,” you said after a moment. “The roses aren’t just a calling card. They’re part of the ritual.”

Shiu nodded. “That’s what we think too. But what’s the message?”

You studied the photos in silence, then pointed to a small detail in one of the images. “Look at the way the vines are arranged. They’re covering the victim’s mouth and eyes, but not their ears. It’s symbolic. They’re saying... ‘Listen.’”

Shiu raised a brow. “To what?”

“To them,” you replied. “The killer thinks they’re silencing liars, people who ‘speak falsehoods’ or ‘see evil.’ They want their truth to be heard.”

Shiu leaned back, impressed despite himself. “You’ve got a knack for getting into their heads.”

You allowed yourself a small, almost imperceptible smile. “It’s what I do.”

By 18, you had built a reputation as one of the youngest, most promising criminal profilers in the field.

But Shiu knew the truth—you weren’t doing this out of a sense of justice or duty. You were chasing something deeper, darker.

And he watched, always wary, always waiting, knowing that one day, he might have to make a choice: save you from yourself, or let you burn.

────────────

It began as a whisper, a quiet, insidious thought that crawled into the back of your mind during the early years of your work. It wasn’t the murders themselves that fascinated you—though you would sometimes lie awake at night replaying the crime scenes in your head, each bloody tableau etched with clinical precision.

No, it was the murderers. The way their minds worked, their audacity to play God.

It was intoxicating.

You told yourself it was professional interest.

Shiu Kong often praised your ability to get into a killer’s head, to see the world through their eyes. It was why you were the best.

But you knew better. There was something else, something primal and shameful, that pulled you toward them like gravity. You could feel it in your chest, a tight, hot coil of hunger every time you interrogated one.

———

The first time it happened, you told yourself it was a mistake.

A lapse in judgment.

He was a sadist, a monster who had strangled six women in their own beds. You were supposed to be observing him, studying him.

Instead, you found yourself leaning closer, your breath hitching when his hand brushed yours. He smiled—a predator’s smile, sharp and knowing. He saw right through you, into the dark, hollow place you kept hidden from everyone, even yourself.

“You love danger, don’t you?” he had whispered, his voice like velvet laced with barbed wire.

You didn’t answer, but your silence spoke volumes.

Later that night, you visited him in his cell. The guards had left for their rounds, and the shadows swallowed the room whole.

It was dangerous. Reckless.

But when he pinned you against the cold, unforgiving bars, you had never felt more alive. His hands were rough, his grip bruising, and you let him do whatever he wanted.

You didn’t care about the consequences, only the searing heat in your veins and the dizzying high of being so close to death.

———

After that, it became a pattern.

You were careful—always careful. You never left evidence, never allowed your encounters to interfere with your cases. To the world, you were still the brilliant, detached profiler who closed cases with surgical precision.

But in the shadows, you lived for the moments when a killer’s hands wrapped around your throat, when you could feel their breath on your skin and the sharp edge of a blade against your flesh.

It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even lust, not in the conventional sense.

You didn’t care about them as people, and you certainly didn’t want a relationship. It was the power, the thrill of standing at the edge of the abyss and staring into the void. You were the perfect submissive, but not because you wanted to be controlled. You wanted to be consumed.

And then, when the moment came, you turned the tables.

They thought they had you, that you were theirs to break and discard. But you were always one step ahead. You let them believe they had won, let them take their pleasure and their power. And then you crushed them. Every time, without fail, you closed the case.

They ended up behind bars, or dead, and you walked away unscathed. It was a game, a twisted chess match where you always had the final move.

———

But there was one killer you hadn’t found yet. The one who had started it all.

Your parents’ murderer.

He was the first, the one who had opened your eyes to the beauty of chaos and the fragility of life.

You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. In a way, you were grateful to him. He had given you purpose, a reason to exist.

And yet, you wanted him more than anyone else.

Not to love him. Not even to kill him. You wanted to stand before him, to feel his hands on your skin, to let him carve his mark into you like he had carved it into your family. You wanted him to take you apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

And then you would destroy him.

Each case you worked on felt like a step closer to him, even though you knew it wasn’t. You chased every lead, interrogated every suspect with the same cold, detached intensity.

But when they weren’t him, you felt a pang of disappointment, a hollow ache that no amount of blood or violence could fill.

Every killer you encountered was a pale imitation, a placeholder to fill the void until you found him. You imagined what it would be like to face him, to feel his hands on your throat, to hear his voice whispering in your ear. The thought made your heart race, your breath quicken.

And, you never stopped. You couldn’t. He was out there somewhere, watching, waiting. And you would find him.

He was the endgame, the final piece of the puzzle.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Forbidden Fruits”: @uniquecutie-puffs , @belovedoftheanemoarchon , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi , @purple-obsidian , @waterfal-ling , @jjune-07 , @jsprien213 , @crimson-kisses , @tinandabin , @sashakittycloud , @songbirdgardensworld , @monamuskay

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

[bpdshan]

the funniest thing that’s happened to me recently is that someone seemingly tried to update my pronouns on the medical system but accidentally made it so that my actual name is now “They Them”

[choccy-milky]

ty to @icedmatchawoatmilk13 for sending this to me! i may have gone a bit overboard but this was so much fun to fill out/think about BAHAHA💖 ill still never get over how perfect the song sarah smiles is for them...the lyrics AND the fact that its an alliteration...im gonna do an animatic about seb and clora to that song one day i swear 😩 ((blank template by oakwolves!))

[danieyells]

Fun little factoid about Sho

In the game files there's some audio that's just like. "Generic Story Voices". The same ones that I got Kaito and Towa's incantations from. Generic audios were used in campus chats before they got fully voiced I believe, but now they're not used anywhere as far as I know.

One of Sho's is labeled 'Hyde'

And he uses 'Aniki' for him???

My understanding is generally that 'aniki' is kind of respectful and the fact that he uses a respectful term for the brother that he hates struck me as odd when I first found the file(then again he uses 'senpai' for pretty much every student older than him so far, so maybe he's just respectful in general?? Or maybe it's more of a sarcastic thing for Hyde?)

And then we got the 'I'm counting on you Shohei' bit and I was like. O h. Either he's actually fond of/respects Hyde a lot and has no problem being obedient towards him or he just. Speaks to him respectfully out of intimidation maybe? Or habit since he speaks restfully to other people? Idk. Why does he refer to him so respectfully. . . . . . . .i wanna know. . . . .tell us what their secret dealings are zzg. . . . .based on the way he talks to him in the campus chat he doesn't respect him like that but they were also in like a main hall of the building? Maybe in private he speaks and acts totally different?

[t-errifier]

today's mood is being all decked out in punk attire, helping old ladies walk to & from their car at the post office. she told me that she had a fall recently & she was too scared to take the steps on her own, so i held her hand for all of it. then when i waited to escort her back to her car, she was so touched that i did telling me 'there is a special place in heaven for people like you' - and her sweet little husband in the car was waving at me too ;A; it was the sweetest little interaction and i will be thinking about it all day today.

[fingertipsmp3]

Maybe I did this to myself but it does irk me when people see me knitting and they ask who it’s for and I say it’s for me and the immediate reaction is “you should sell it” yeah… let me spend at least a week’s worth of my free time making an item I like, want, and would wear just to sell it on etsy, making at most a £2 profit on materials and not being compensated for my time whatsoever 👍🏻

[faaun]

pls i need to provide updates

[jrueships]

so lame

[dandyshucks]

i havent even thought about what starter im going to choose omg... i don't think i have any preferences towards type, i usually just end up liking pkmn based on vibe and aesthetics LMAO, and I've never played any game except for platinum (and I haven't even finished my first playthrough of it....) so i have zero experience in choosing starters,,,, THIS IS EXCITING

[autistickaitovocaloid]

Boys when they find a 10 year old overdue library book in their shed.

[handfulofmuses]

The thing about this show is that they have all these ideas but they never really act upon it - plot generally comes before the characters. Xever and Bradford are good examples to that.

We see how Karai and Tigerclaw react to situations and Tigerclaw keeps arguing with Shredder too.

Tigerclaw was not fond of the idea of the alien invasion and was against Shredder mutating himself.

But we never really see things from Bradford’s or Xever’s perspective anymore aside from them becoming more or less the comic relief and shoved into the background.

Xever was living on the streets and was sent to prison because he was caught and then Shredder released him from it because he found Xever‘s skills useful to him.

“So you do all this because you owe Shredder?” “Mostly I like having a job where I get to crack skulls everyday.”

Which implies that unlike Bradford, there was never any emotional attachment. Xever is just here because of bad luck and although I don’t think the comics are canon, there was someone who betrayed him and he blames that guy that he met the Shredder.

Bradford did say he never understood the honor of the Foot Clan - and honestly, he doesn’t even know much about Foot Clan lore either. Bradford had to tell him about Splinter (granted this one probably was only between them to begin with) and Xever also did not know about the history regarding the helmet. He is so confused why Shredder just doesn't get a new helmet.

They seem to have worked for quite a while even before the mutation. And when he mutated? Shredder literally owned his legs and ability to breathe. It’s one way to keep him on a leash, this man can no longer live independently and has to rely on machines.

Although there is a certain respect he seems to hold for the Shredder as well - he tells Karai that Shredder is only worthy of that throne, he ran to him when Shredder was slammed into the ground one time and when the whole cult thing starts he says a lot has changed.

The whole thing between him and Raphael was kind of dropped and never touched upon. In the earlier episodes Raphael wanted to go to more extreme measures because Xever wins fights that way too. Raphael says that he can relate to Xever wanting to crack skulls every day, Xever basically pulled a “we are the same” on him and Raphael does not even deny it, Mikey even mentions that he and Xever make a good team. There was some kind of build up, but they didn’t do really anything with it.

It would have been interesting to see his side regarding Shredder going deeper into madness. This man caused an alien invasion and then just mutated himself as well. By the time the whole cult thing happens he just had enough because it becomes too much.

It is surprising that we never saw how Bradford reacts to the changes because honestly? They didn’t even do Ninja stuff anymore. The foot clan took such drastic changes because of Shredder‘s obsession with Splinter that I have a hard time to believe he wouldn't doubt him from time to time? Heck, their soldiers were replaced with robots. I don’t think he would have approved of Shredder mutating himself either.

Bradford is obedient to the Shredder and follows his orders, but he also questioned him before (mostly in regards to Xever) - he respects his master but he doesn’t follow blindly. Keep in mind, the guy said that Tatsu‘s offer is worth considering after he said he will make the Foot great again. Which implies that Bradford actually was not satisfied with the changes.

But this one was dropped so quickly again because he got killed again. He says the helmet is only worthy of Shredder but then in the next few seconds he is like hmmm maybe that offer is worth considering only … nothing happens with that. He just shows up saying the helmet is worthy of Shredder and Tatsu is killed. Was it because the demon guy was there and was currently using him as a puppet?

I like that scene but it feels so out of place, especially since we find out he was a mindless zombie all along and just gets killed again. I feel like the relationship between Tatsu and him could have been touched upon in the earlier seasons.

Why does he consider the offer? This man is introduced to us as Shredder‘s most loyal and this guy comes in like I will improve things again and Bradford is like " … hmmm"

It’s just that their point of views were so quickly dropped with the introduction of Tigerclaw, Bebop and Rocksteady. Even his relationship with Shredder was kind of replaced with TC.

Rockwell was betrayed and experimented on by his friend, but they never touch upon that anymore. He should have gotten a chance to confront him. But also … they have the cure to turn them back into humans, why is he still a mutant?

The mutanimals in general - they were these folks who stepped in while the alien invasion was going on yet they constantly are so easily defeated and have to be rescued from the turtles? Slash was so horrifying in his first appearance but they downplayed him a lot

Timothy was just entirely forgotten? They never mutate him back to normal

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

me when i once again get too much into working on bg characters instead of the main ones (<- i once read that bg characters should be as deep as the main even if they only appear a couple times and it haunts my mind still)

[reidmania]

safe by your side | Spencer Reid.

description ; after being in prison Spencer is more clingy than he’s ever been before

warnings ; mentions changing in front of him, its just fluff tbh. he is just a clingy baby and that hates when you arent by his side, angst if you drink a bottle of tequila spin 50 times and then squint.

a/n ; post prison reid makes me MMM just as much as baby season reid.

“What are you doing?”

The voice made you jump, your grip on the glass in your hand loosening for a millisecond, not enough for it to fall from your hands. You turned around from where you had been standing against the kitchen counter, glass of water in your hands.

You lock eyes with a very sleepy Spencer. His overgrown hair — which you adored — a mess, his eyes still full of sleep as he brought the back of his hand up to rub one of them, his cheeks were flushed — he woke up.

You waited till he was asleep to get yourself a glass of water. Ever since he had gotten out of prison there had been something in the air that made Spencer hate not being by your side all the time, you knew what it was and you had no issue with the extra attention, especially after he had been gone for so long.

“I was just getting water, love.” You placed the glass down on the counter, half full as you opened your arms for him, he wasted no time walking around the counter towards you. “You alright?” You asked.

He just hummed as his arms wrapped around your waist, his head bowed to lean into the crook of your neck. You could feel him inhale and exhale. Your arms wrapped around his neck, rubbing the back of it gently with your thumb.

He said something but it was muffled and inaudible by your skin. “What baby?” Your voice was gentle, aware that it was not only the middle of the night — but also that your husband was probably more sensitive right now.

He leant away a bit, now looking into your eyes while his arms stayed around your waist. “I woke up and you weren’t there” He said.

Your lip pulled into almost a frown as you felt the sadness in his voice in your chest. One hand removed from the back of his neck coming to brush hairs out of his face.

“Im sorry” You apologised gently. You partly hoped his extreme clinginess wore off before he went to back to work so he wasn’t suffering the anxiety he felt being away from you while trying to do his job.

He leant down to place a soft kiss on the crown of your head, you hummed appreciatively.

“Do you want some water?” You asked softly, both your hands now cupping his face softly, you could feel the warmth of his cheeks on the tips of your fingers, he shook his head in your hands.

You nodded, leaning over to grab your glass of water while staying in place in his arms. He didn’t say anything as you finished the rest of the water before discarding the glass into the sink, deciding you would take care of washing it tomorrow.

“Back to bed?” He asked, you could hear the tiredness in his voice just as much as you could see it in his eyes. You smiled fondly, nodding your head.

The two of you walked back to your bedroom, his arm still tightly around your waist, only leaving when you walked to the other side of the bed to crawl in.

The minute you were in place his arm was back around you tightly, your back pressed tightly against his chest as he placed a gentle kiss into your shoulder. “Hate when you’re not here” He murmured.

You frowned turning your head slightly to look at him, the only light in the room from the moon through a slip in the curtains. “Im right here” You reassured gently.

He nodded arms tightening around you as he let out a shaky breath, making you sigh in content.

You heard your name being called over the sound of the water in the shower, you knew who it was — there was only one person it could be. Basically finished your shower anyways, you turned off the water stepping out. “Im in here Spence.” You called out as you wrapped the white towel around you body.

You heard footsteps towards the bathroom door before it opened. “Hi” Spencer smiled — looking almost relieved when his eyes dawned upon your face. You wrapped your hair in a towel before standing up straight to face him. “Hey pretty boy, you alright?” You asked, taking a few steps towards him.

He nodded, arms wasting no time slinking around your waist despite the fact your bare skin was wet and only covered in a towel. “‘missed you” He muttered.

You had decided to shower while Spencer did work in his office at home — not yet returning to work but doing some at home to get back in the rhythm without all the pressure. He was okay with being in the office while you were in the kitchen only a couple rooms down because he could hear you moving around in there, getting a start on dinner for the two of you. — When he couldn’t hear you anymore, and then couldn’t see you in the kitchen thats when the panic set in.

You smiled as you removed yourself from the hug, opting for holding his hand as you lead him to your bedroom so you could change. “You should’ve told me you were showering I would’ve come with you” He didn't mean in any way other than innocently.

You two often showered together; it was a thing. While he was away on cases and then came home, not knowing how much time you'd have to spend together — showering together was one easy way to make sure you were spending the most time together.

“Sorry baby. We can shower again later if you’d like” You suggested, not minding showering again if it meant your boyfriend would be more comfortable.

Spencer nodded as he watched you change, there was nothing suggestive about the way he was looking at you, he just liked looking at you. You smiled as you tugged one of his hoodies on over your head.

“Do you need to keep working?” You asked, stepping back into his grasp, where his hands held your waist as your hands rested on his shoulder. He nodded leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips which made you smile.

“Can you sit with me?” He asked. Your heart swarmed slightly at the idea of him just wanting you around, while he was doing work. You couldn’t imagine saying no to him.

“Of course baby, want to come with me to check on dinner first?” You asked, it was something that needed a few hours to cook but you didn’t want to burn the house down in the process. He nodded.

He stood against the counter as he watched you check on the food quickly, eyes never leaving your every movement — if he couldn’t touch you, seeing you was enough.

You then followed him to his office, he sat on his chair and patted his thigh softly, encouraging you to sit on his lap, which you did with no hesitation. Your chest pressed against his, as one of his arms wrapped around your waist softly, holding you tight against him as he began doing finishing his work.

Every few minutes he would turn his head to check on you, or place a kiss to the side of your head, while you sat contently in his arms.

You’d never admit it, but you secretly loved the clingy side to Spencer. You missed him more than words could ever explain while he was in prison; and him wanting you around all the time was something you’d never complain about.

[nosyp]

Twst Third Years reacting to someone else calling you 'honey' or 'sweetheart'

First Years | Second years

A/N = Likes, reblogs and comments r apprecaieted btw!

Trey Clover

He raises an eyebrow. Like what did he just say?

“Honey? Sweetheart? That's a little forward, don’t you think?”

Gives the person a polite but firm smile, subtly stepping closer to you.

HE WILL try to keep things calm but is lowkey plotting how to make sure that never happens again. Like you should probably... do something about him.

BUT in private, he’ll ask you if you’re okay with it, but also makes sure to remind you he’s got your back.

Cater Diamond

He laughs at first, but the playful glint in his eyes slowly shift into something more possessive.

“Oh? So you think you’re that close to (Y/N)?”

Gives the person a teasing grin before pulling you closer to him.

“You know, I think I’m the only one who gets to call them that. So how about we leave the nicknames to me, yeah?”

When alone with you, he’s definitely more affectionate but might joke about it a bit more.

Leona Kingscholar

Glares at the person, his face darkening in the process.

“The hell did you just call them?” he scowls.

He doesn’t hold back. His tone DRIPPING with irritation.

“You’ve got some nerve. Back off, they’re mine.”

Will pull you closer to him, practically growling if the person doesn’t get the hint.

Vil Schoenheit

Freezes for a moment, then smiles, but it’s far from a kind smile. It's more of... getoutofmyfacebeforeismackyouintotomorrow typa smile.

“How cute, you think you’re that familiar with them.”

Casually places a hand on your shoulder, making sure the other person notices how close you two are.

His voice is laced with poison: “I think you should stick to more formal terms. After all, you’re not exactly their type.” ouch that kinda hurts.

Vil keeps it classy but is definitely claiming you in his own way. He's probably not gonna let you out of his sight after this.

Rook Hunt

He simply... smirks. He's entertained. He's slightly enjoying this... but of course with a possessive glint in his eyes.

“Oh? Honey, you say? You’re a bit too forward for my liking.”

Leans in close to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“(Y/N) belongs to me, in a way that no one else can even dream of.”

He loves the tension it creates, and you can expect him to be a lot more possessive afterward.

Idia Shroud

His face turns red, and he freezes up.

'W-Wait, honey? Who the hell do they think they are?' his mind races.

You can practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he starts muttering to himself, fidgeting nervously. He's like a kettle about to BURST.

'I-I don’t like it when other people call them that! I get to call them cute names, okay?' he thinks to himself.

He doesn’t show it on the outside, but internally, he’s definitely marking his territory.

He tries to listen in on the conversation to know more about him for... reasons. AND goodluck to his online reputation cuz it's gonna be non-existent or absolutely ruined in a matter of seconds.

Malleus Draconia

Stares at the person, unblinking.

“Did you just refer to them as honey?”

His voice is calm, but his eyes have a dangerous glint.

Steps closer to you, his presence overwhelming.

“No one else has the right to address them that way. They belong to me.”

Will silently observe, but you’ll feel his possessive nature once the clouds start getting dark and raindrops fall from the sky. Then the air around you seems to shift, heavy with his unspoken claim.

Lilia Vanrouge

He chuckles, but his tone is laced with amusement and something more.

“Oh? Sweetheart, you say? How bold of you, but I think you’ve got it wrong.”

Laughs to himself and then ruffles your hair affectionately.

“(Y/N) is mine, so maybe you should pick a more appropriate nickname.”

While playful on the surface, you can feel the possessive edge in his words.

A/N = I love third years the most tbh

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Last Christmas

♥ masterlist | request rules | 12 days of ficmas

♥ pairing: ex!lando norris x fem!reader x oscar piastri

♥ synopsis: last christmas was vulnerable. even more so after you opened up to your best friend lando and him comforting you turned into his confession of love... but the next morning a picture of his girlfriend—whom he never told you about, was the first thing you saw. out of what you'd call destiny, you befriend the two people he's closest too: his teammate and his new girlfriend.

♥ smau - fc: women on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: lando is a bit of a dick in this but it’s only bc its important for the plot lmao! <3

-Christmas Eve, 2023-

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by carmenmundt, georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, and more

yourusername when you’re insecure could be me could be her, you just run to whoever is winning 

view comments

user1 alright who broke our girl’s heart

user2 i’ll break his face

alexandrasaintmleux 🫂

lilymhe love you 🫶 call me whenever you need 

iamrebeccad we’re here for you ❤️

user3 guys WHAT HAPPENED 😭

user4 @/user3 whatever it was is clearly huge because all of the wags are here

user5 oh so this person SUCKS sucks

user6 the sabrina lyrics

user8 SAID THAT IT WAS ME AND YOU FOR LIFE !!

user9 NOW YOURE KINDA ACTIN LIKE I DIED!!

user10 my wife is getting her heart broken by a man 😞

user11 not the mascara running girl he didn't deserve you anyway whoever he was

carmenmundt if you need anything I'll always be here <3

yourusername ty carmen 💋

user12 i know lando just hard launched his girlfriend but i hope he’s still able to be there for yn 😓

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by landonorris, yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,019,943 more

mclaren who’s ready for bahrain?

view comments

iamimogen me !

♡ by landonorris

yourusername i’ll be there as always <3

oscarpiastri it’s been a while! can’t wait to see you again

user1 awww osc

mclaren what oscar said!!

blondie_wdj @/yourusername you’re always welcome in the garage

user2 being best friends with a driver means your also best friends with his engineer

blondie_wdj @/user2 so true

user3 i can’t wait to see lando’s gf in the paddock

user5 and her and y/n to be friends

user6 I hope there's no tension between them

user7 @/user6 lets not pit women against each other before they've even met !!

user9 where's yn's man

yourusername no idea 😔

liked by oscarpiastri, francisca.cgomes, lilymhe, and 130,583 more

yourusername after party

tagged; @/oscarpiastri

view comments

user1 STOP is that imogen?

user2 she’s so hot i fear 🫣

oscarpiastri finally made it onto your ig 🙏 I used to dream of days like this

yourusername you are now one of my elite employees

user8 the way lando isn't even in the pictures lmaooo

yourusername @/user8 he wasn't approved by the council

user3 so here for ynoscar tbh

user4 that's what I've been SAYING

user5 so glad lando has a gf so yall finally stop shipping her w him and let the oscarinas have something

iamimogen great to meet you 💕

♡ by yourusername

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Time Skip-

liked by iamimogen, user2, user8, and more

f1gossip y/n and imogen were spotted hanging out all night after the monaco grand prix. could this be the beginning of a new friendship?

view comments

user1 I BEG YOUR FINEST PAEDON?!

user4 they're so fucking cute oh my god

user2 i love it when the girl bsf and gf are besties 🥹

user9 it's mr steal your girl

user8 Imogen break up with your boyfriend ‼️

user7 yn lando Imogen poly when

...comments have now been disabled

-Hungarian Grand Prix-

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yourusername BUDAPEST, HUNGARY 📍

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user1 @/oscarpiastri again

user2 how did you recognize him by just his back? 😭

user3 crying because why is yn posting oscar more than lando posts his girlfriend

user4 RIGHT? I don't think I've seen her once on his main or jpg but Imogen posts him all the time :/

user5 its kind of weird since lando used to post dozens of pictures of yn

user6 anyone else notice that he hasn't liked or commented on any of yn's posts in months or am I insane?

user5 @/user6 YES I HAVE

user8 guys I think they went through a friendship break up or something

user4 @/user8 do you think its because of Imogen?

user8 @/user4 maybe

user6 @/user4 I don't think so since yn is with her all the time. I just haven't seen yn talk to lando publicly since last year

mclaren it's always nice to see you!

yourusername valid: all days paddock pass when?

mclaren 👀

user9 hungary is such a random race to go to lol

user10 she's mclaren's good luck charm trust

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yourusername YESSSSiogvdrs;okfeLI

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user1 SHES SO US

user7 SCREAMING

user3 ARE WE GONNA TALK ABOUT THE FACT THEY LET YN STAND DOWN THERE

user2 honorary wag !!

user4 oh the sheer amount of pictures she took of him

user5 that's a proud girlfriend if I've ever seen one

user6 she didn't even greet lando...

user10 she was probably caught up in the moment

user6 @/user10 me when I lie

user10 HELPPP 😭 I don't want to admit her and lando aren't hanging out anymore... they were literally best friends

user9 lets focus on the positives: oscar won and he's 100% into yn

-F1 Winter Break-

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iamimogen loving winter 🤍

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user1 she’s SO gorgeous

yourusername the prettiest

iamimogen @/yourusername no you!!

user2 stop i still love that her and yn get along 🥹

user3 right they’re so sweet

landonorris ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux stunning

iamimogen 💋

francisca.cgomes hottie

iamimogen love you 😘

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iamimogen I'm dreaming of a pink christmas

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user1 lando you need to step up your game

user2 him STILL not posting pictures about her is crazy...

user3 EXACTLY

user4 the way they've been publicly a couple for a year 💀

user7 pink pilates princess core

iamimogen you know it

user12 I feel like I'm the only one who thinks her and lando are cute 😭

user6 no they're cute there's just something... off?

user10 @/user6 exactly. I love them but what the fuck is going on with them and yn

user9 the only place were gonna find lando and yn together these days is Imogen's likes

user5 LMAO

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yourusername photo dump 🩰🎀

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user20 @/iamimogen not yn copying you 💀

yourusername omg i had no idea she invented the color pink. @/iamimogen i’m so sorry queen i had no idea 🫶

iamimogen @/yourusername that’s ok just make sure to give creds next time ❤️

user1 PLSSS they’re so unserious

user2 im obsessed with their friendship wait 

user3 they’re so fucking funny

user4 OSCYN HARD LAUNCH I REPEAT OSCYN HARD LAUNCH

user5 oh I fucking knew it

user6 its a christmas miracle

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yourusername stole your boy and your girl

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user1 THE GASP I GUSPT

user4 jaw is on the floor.

user3 LEAVING THE COMMENTS ON IS CRAZYYY

user5 what a bad bitch move

user7 SHUT UPPPP

user6 so this all WAS about lando?! I'm genuinely so curious now I need to know what he did!?!?!?

user8 oh my god yn is my favorite person

user9 y'all remember that post of her like sobbing last year? was that about lando...?

user10 FUCK OFF IMAGINE IT IS

user12 begging for a story time

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

end notes: i’m really fighting my demons (the urge to make a part two where yn ends up with imogen…) anyways I'm back with super late christmas fics haha !! they'll all be posted out of order from now on lmao

taglist; @sainzzreputaticn @theseerbetweenus @yawn-zi