#like thread the chain through the poor little guy's body. not tied up

[re-whump]

thinking about a tiny vampire strung up on a silver chain like a pendant

[radio-ghost-cooks]

simm!master whump pt 2

tags: sleep deprivation, blood/bleeding, tied up, electric shocks, description of (poorly done) stitches, passing out, unethical experimentation, Torchwood, that should be its own warning, simm!master, it/its Master, poor baby 😟, hurt/comfort is coming guys, pt 2 of ???

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The Master passed out at some point. It knew they were prodding at its hearts when it lost consciousness because it could still feel them beating in its chest, far drier than any internal organ should be ("Oh my god, I can feel how dry my guts are. I can fucking feel them. Oh my god, make it stop"). As it shook itself awake, it shivered at the feel of cold metal looped around his arms and legs. Still chained up. The next thing it noticed was the room. It was no longer bound to a table, but propped up against a cold concrete wall. There was a single large observation window across from it. A metal chair was the only piece of furniture to be found. A chair. A stupid thing to be in there, especially since the chains that shackled the Master to the wall were too short for it to reach ("They're teasing me. They're doing this on purpose"). Finally, finally, it registered the throbbing, aching pain coming from its front. It wished it hadn't. Thrashing around in its chains, screaming, it could feel its own cut skin sliding against itself, blood leaking from the seams and dripping down its torso. It looked down to find large, haphazard stitches sewn into its body, just barely tight enough to keep its innards from spilling out onto the concrete in a bloody mass. The string was too large. It was more like cotton twine than surgical thread. The Master could feel every single stitch than ran from its chest to its abdomen; stitched in so loosely that they warped and curved as it moved.

"Good morning, Subject TL301," came a voice, echoing through the room, "I do wish you would stop that screaming. It's giving the poor medical team an awful headache." The Master simply continued to writhe on its back, anger beginning to bubble in its chest. It was a Time Lord! Their superior! To be treated like a living cadaver was not only cruel, but insulting! The voice sighed. "Come now," she cooed, "Don't be like that! If you won't keep your voice down, we'll simply have to keep you quiet, you know." It didn't like the sound of that.

Still flailing about, it bit back its cries, not wanting to find out what would happen if it didn't. But oh, gods, was it hard. It was so very hard. It wanted to scream until its voice went hoarse, demanding for this torture to end. It wanted its pain to be heard by every living thing. Although its tears stung the gashes on its body, it yearned to wail as loudly as it could. But no. It couldn't.

Slowly but surely, The Master's muscles began to tire. Its once frenzied movements became little more than feeble jerks of its arms and legs, making the chains jingle ever so softly. It found its eyes growing heavy. It was so tired. It was tired of having to feel.

The Master drifted into an uneasy sleep, panting out its exhaustion. And then it felt like every single nerve was on fire.

The woman's voice came again. "Ahh, very sorry 301, but one of our researchers has requested to study the effects of sleep deprivation on Time Lords, and it seems you're our only specimen." Gods, how could she sound so calm? So composed as the Master's eyes flooded with tears? It wouldn't be allowed to sleep. It might never sleep again.

At first, it wasn't too difficult to stay awake. It focused on the feeling of its own innards resting heavy inside it. It focused on how gross it felt after having all those human hands grabbing it and maneuvering it around. It focused on the blood. The white-hot pain. It allowed itself to bathe in the sickening sense of betrayal in its bones; the leader of its own people had bartered it off for technology made by inferior species. That's all it was to the Time Lords. A thing to be traded to the highest bidder.

After wallowing in its own misery began to fail, it slipped back into an unwilling sleepiness. Then came another shock, this time causing it to curl in on itself, forcing thin streams of blood out from its wounds. It wanted to rip its own nerves out. Even its brain felt the pain, making its head pound somehow harder than it had before.

Ten hours. It went on for ten hours. It wasn't allowed to shut its eyes for any more than a few seconds before another jolt of electricity rocked its body. And once those ten hours had passed, it was hauled back into the operating room and strapped into place (like it even had the energy to fight it anymore), ready and waiting for the stitches to be unceremoniously ripped from its body.

As The Master's eyes drifted shut, finally, after being shocked so many times it was sure one of its hearts stopped beating, it realized: the only time it was ever going to rest was when it passed out from agony during a vivisection.

[ultravioletrayz]

soccer dad!miguel who yawns and grumbles as his eyes adjust to the early morning sun, groggily preparing Gabriela's container of frozen orange slices for today's game. It had come time for Gabi's team to play against that team once again, and Miguel was definitely less than thrilled. As he stacks slices of oranges inside the little pink lunchbox, he grows anxious about how Gabi will be treated on the field... and how he will be treated by that #10 kid's bitchy aunt after his protective outburst at their last game.

soccer dad!miguel who wakes Gabriela up and helps her get ready for her game. He gives her a long and encouraging pep talk as he watches her through the reflection of her vanity mirror, which is covered in stickers and toys dumped on the desk. He ties her hair up in a ponytail, his big, strong hands practically covering her whole head and making it easy for him to hold all of her beautiful brown hair back, but the poor guy fumbles with the tiny hair tie. Miguel listens to Gabi's optimistic predictions about the game as he straightens her shin pads and ties the sparkly blue laces threaded through her cleats.

soccer dad!miguel who refuses to let Gabi walk on any surface other than grass when she's wearing her boots. He paid too much money on the stupid things to have the studs wear down so early on in the season. Plus, what kind of a dad would Miguel be if he made his sweet little all-star stumble around the place when he could carry her instead?

soccer dad!miguel who plays rock songs in the car on the way to the game to get Gabriela hyped. It's become a bit of a tradition, the two of them headbanging to Alice in Chains, Van Halen, Guns 'n' Roses, etcetera. Miguel always has to fix Gabi's hair once he parks the car, loose strands poking out all over the place, the two of them giggling as Miguel shares his last few words of motivation with his angel.

soccer dad!miguel who carries Gabriela out of the car, and immediately spots you with your nephew. You're standing outside of your car with your nephew sitting sideways in the backseat with his little legs dangling out of the car, allowing you to tie his shoelaces and pull his socks up. As Miguel watches you acting so caring, as opposed to how dismissive you were at the last game, he can't help but be drawn to you once again, and this time not just for your body and snarky attitude. You were probably just as protective of your nephew as he is of Gabi. It makes his heart flutter when he starts to fantasise about you being the mother Gabriela desperately needs, and it makes his dick twitch at the thought of his neglected needs being satisfied by a pretty girl like you.

soccer dad!miguel who snaps himself out of his ridiculous thoughts and carries his daughter over to where her coach is setting up their pre-game drills. Gabriela seems to have noticed her dad's staring, a confused, wide-eyed look on her face.

"Papá, why were you looking at #10's tía?" Gabi asks quietly, making Miguel splutter a bit as he tries to laugh it off. Obviously, he couldn't let his daughter know that he wants to fuck her rival's aunt and make her a mother figure for Gabi. It was insane.

"No te preocupes por eso, princesa. Just sizing up the competition." Miguel whispers, pinching Gabriela's cheek to make her laugh, before putting her down on the grass and watching her run over to her teammates.

soccer dad!miguel who always picks the prime spot on the sidelines to spectate the game. He couldn't care less about the fact that his huge, muscular frame blocks the view of every stuck-up soccer mom behind him. He just cares about Gabriela and showing his support.

"¡Sigue así, Gabi! ¡Vamos!" Miguel cheers loudly as Gabi sprints with the ball, trying to make a play against the defenders.

"Hey, dumbass, do you mind? Nobody else can see." A voice from behind Miguel scolds, and his sharp red eyes narrow as he takes a guess at who it could be. He looks over his shoulder to see you, tongue in cheek and arms crossed over your chest, making your delicious tits spill out of your top.

"Not much point in me moving, your nephew's getting his ass kicked 2-0." Miguel scoffs, purposefully trying to rile you up. He had already tried being nice after the incident from the last game, he wasn't about to make the same mistake and look like a fool again.

"You're gonna get your fucking ass kicked if you don't move." You hiss, shoving Miguel out of the way and standing beside him so that you can cheer on your nephew as he helps his team stop Miguel's daughter from scoring against them. He stumbles a bit, that slight contact between your arm and his making him fight back a pathetic moan. You were fucking insufferable, but god damn you were hot.

soccer dad!miguel who spends the remainder of the game either cheering on Gabi as she plays... or arguing with you. The two of you bicker like children, Miguel throwing digs at your nephew's soccer skills while you make empty threats and refrain from making similar comments about his daughter, having already seen how crazily protective he is of his little girl and not wanting to get beat up by a grown man. By the end of the game, the argument had gotten heated, the two of you accidentally scaring off all the other spectators with your yelling and swearing, all over an under 9's soccer game.

"You and your nephew are both fucking brats. I wouldn't be surprised if he grew up to be a slut like you, too!" Miguel shouts, not even really believing the words he's blurting out. But you always seem to have a snarky comeback, he just wants to shut you up.

"You don't even know me, or my nephew. You're just mad that you and your kid are fucking loners ever since the actual slut in this situation decided to leave your pathetic ass! Don't project your sad bullshit onto me." You counter, having heard about Miguel's divorce a little while ago from one of the other parents, deciding to use that against him.

Before Miguel can retaliate, Gabriela and your nephew come rushing over, tears streaming down both of their little faces as they're accompanied by the referee and the club manager for the field you're at. You and Miguel are in deep shit now...

PREV. PART, NEXT PART

tagging people in part 2:

@rxckstarss @ghost-lantern @lauraolar14 @rhythmloid @lazyjellyfish300 @shadofireshinobi @t4naiis @laufftuhh @grapejuicenads @xxsugarbonesxx @lounilu @faimmm @kerwin290710

[helenazbmrskai]

Bad Omega, Sweet Omega JJK (M)

Pairing – Omega! Jeongguk x Reader

Genre – Werewolf AU, Smut, Angst, fluff, Omega Going Into Heat AU

Summary – [This year Jeongguk’s heat leads to unexpected discoveries. You always thought that Jeongguk hates your guts even though his wolf liked to cuddle you. Until you find yourself in a sticky situation in the bathroom while the pack members try to break down the door.]

Warnings – angst, jeongguk is a little feral at the beginning, he corners you and licks your neck, sexual tension, multiple sex scenes, scenting, kissing, lots of licks, dom! jeongguk but also sub! jeongguk he switches but mostly dom gukie I think (yeah I don't know what happened to me guys my hand slipped), unprotected vaginal sex, hair pulling, making out, bondage (guk is tied up), werewolf heat sex, dirty talk, jeongguk is needy, overstimulation, face sitting, oral (both receiving), fingering, blowjob, handjob, body worship, tongue fucking, multiple orgasms, knotting, raw penetration, possessive guk, big dick guk, size kink (because it's me), edging, rough-(ish) fucking, creampie(s),  scent kink, biting/marking (one bite to be exact and it's not gukie), implied cockwarming, period sex (!), guk is your personal heater, cuddles, aftercare, shower sex, confessions, lovemaking, breast play, biting kink, slow fucking

Word Count – (10k)

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⤷ Part of Bad and Sweet Trilogy

”I got the chains. Can I come in?” You whisper-yell through the door, pacing around the backyard when no one answers even though you knocked twice and called every pack member except for one who you know won’t reply. It seems like everyone is occupied for some reason. Unsure if you should drop it off and book it or wait for someone to reply to your text messages you start chewing on your lower lip anxiously.

You don’t know what to do. After weighing your options you choose the latter and take another peek at your device. You came this far so you shouldn’t give up now. It’s literally a life and death situation you can’t let them down.

You know they’re home, they wouldn’t let poor Jeongguk be alone when he’s in heat.

It’s your wellbeing that you’re kinda worried about. They said that an omega in heat can smell you even from a mile and while you were never particularly good at math even you know that the numbers are not in your favour so close to the packhouse.

You feel like a burglar looking around every two seconds to make sure no one sees you when you in reality are checking out the place for threats. It’s eerily quiet outside.

To be honest, this is not how you planned to spend your weekend. You’re sure the girl who checked you out at the store thinks that you’re into some kinky BDSM shit or worse. She thinks you’re some nasty kidnapper or a serial killer!

You could feel it in her stare that she was judging you hard as she ringed up all those chains and heavy locks that Namjoon asked you to bring to replace the broken ones. You can’t exactly say you buy them because you’re friends with a bunch of werewolves.

Well at least she didn’t dial the cops as soon as you stepped out, that’s something to be grateful for.

You can’t even imagine how bad his heat is this time considering that he ripped two chains and the spare one! And now that you can hear the growls and grunts coming from upstairs you know that the door is hanging by a thread as well to keep him locked away.

Now you understand why Namjoon asked you to bring the chains asap. Damn, omegas are hard to handle. It must be even harder on Jeongguk. The boy is a muscle pig.

You really shouldn’t be here right now but you’re the only one available as Jimin’s and Taehyung’s girlfriends are busy with a family reunion or something along the lines like that.

You admit that you’re guilty of not listening to their ranting as you were busy ogling at Jeongguk shirtless. Who can blame you though? He was working out and sweating.

There isn’t a woman on this planet who could have looked away respectfully when he’s such a snack.

Besides the point. They can’t just ask someone considering that not many of their friends know about their family’s secret. So it really comes down to you only.

Finally, you hear someone unlock the door that grabs your attention and gets you out of your daydreaming.

”Did you get it?” Taehyung asks through the creak, you can only see his eyes through the slit of the door. Poor guy looks exhausted which makes you worry your lip even more at the sight. He didn’t open the front door wider for you. Probably to keep your scent outside. Normally you would roll your eyes and make some remarks but this time you just nod and point at your backpack where everything is.

Now’s not the time to joke about how that sounded like you’re about to hook him up with some good weed.

You wonder where everyone is as the house gets eerily quiet for a minute, with no grunts or heavy panting to disturb the silence. Taehyung needs to open the door wider for you to pass him the bag and that’s when you hear it. There’s a bang that awfully sounds like a door just got yeeted off the doorframe upstairs and some panicked yells follow the sounds of heavy breathing and even heavier footsteps. They yell Jeongguk’s name that screams trouble to you.

You spoke too soon. You’re fucked.

Your eyes widen when Jeongguk appears sweaty and disoriented with two pack members in tow trying to get a hold of him but with little to no success. Taehyung grabs you by the shoulder on impulse. He immediately shuts the door behind you, you hear as the lock turns.

Your heart is beating so fast that you’re afraid it will break free from your ribcage. You keep looking between the door and the guys as panic settles in. What do you do now?

”What are you doing?! Why did you lock me in too?” You whisper the words close to Taehyung’s ears while you can’t keep your eyes off Jeongguk who is struggling to break free from Jimin’s and Yoongi’s hold. Taehyung pulls you behind him protectively with an apologetic smile on his face.

”Sorry but he saw you. He wouldn’t let you go now and we need to keep him inside the house.” It makes sense (you’re a woman) but it doesn’t mean you’re any less nervous to be here. He could tear you limb by limb or fuck you till you’re unable to even stand upright. Either way, it would be humiliating if Jeongguk jumped your bones in front of his pack members. A chilled shiver runs down your spine at the thought.

You heard stories of a werewolf’s heat from the girlfriends but Jimin is a beta and Taehyung is an alpha.

Jeongguk however is an omega and his heat is very different from what you heard from the boys.

Their wolf comes out so strongly that they can’t think clearly. You remember Hoseok mentioning it to you that when an omega’s heat hits he can’t control his urges and it doesn’t matter in the heat of the moment who is there all he can think about is breeding his partner. It doesn’t matter that normally Jeongguk couldn’t even keep eye contact with you for more than five seconds before he has to look away. If you come across him while he’s in this state he will not hesitate to bend you backwards and fuck you that makes a different kind of shudder run down your spine.

The closest room where you could hide is in the bathroom on your right. Taehyung nudges you in that direction while he joins the two boys to help out, they’re relieved that he has the chains. But their relive it’s short lived though when Jeongguk somehow twists his hands out of their hold and grabs the door handle before you could close it.

You can barely hear their yells through the door and the rattle of the knob as you are now, face to face with Jeongguk and his glowing gold eyes laced with hunger. You could see the sweat collecting along his hairline but he still smells oh so nice, inhaling his manly scent makes you dizzy.

All you can hear is the blood rushing through your ears making everything sound like you’re underwater as you watch his face contort into a painful grimace.

You hold your breath when he gets close enough that you can feel his shaky exhale of breath on your face. Too close for comfort but you’re afraid to move in case it sets him off. He didn’t do anything yet and you’re not sure when they will be able to open the door so you refrain from making any sudden movements.

”J-Jeongguk, w-wait a minute!” You step back until your back collies with the cold tiles of the bathroom wall when he moves. You spoke too soon again. The cold sensation makes goosebumps appear on your skin as you shudder. Nowhere to go now he cages you between his muscular arms on either side of your waist. He’s shirtless you can’t help but look at his defined stomach and admire his muscles flexing with the motion of holding you between them.

This is not the right time to ogle at his fit body but you’re only woman while he’s a very attractive species of man right in front of your eyes. Heat or not. You should be scared shitless but weirdly, you don’t really feel that you’re in danger even when he’s standing this close to you.

He’s the youngest in his pack but definitely the most packing in terms of muscles. Any other day you wouldn’t think even for a moment that the sweet Gukie can be intimidating and make you shake in your boots.

What’s even crazier than that is that you’re not that scared to stand this close to him. Something in his eyes tells you that he won’t hurt you. He looks feral but there’s this tenderness in his eyes only reserved for your gaze to pick up on.

You don’t know if you should believe your instincts. You still jump when he ducks his face lower and licks the sweat off your cheek, startling you. He drags the wet muscle down your jaw licking the expanse of your skin as if you’re the tastiest ice cream on a sunny day.

”D-Don’t hurt me!” You yelp when you feel his tongue lave on your pulse point. There’s no way he can’t smell the fear on you as he keeps nibbling on your earlobe. He licks your entire neck, you can feel his sticky saliva coat your skin.

You’re so shocked that you barely register his hard on pressing to your stomach until he rolls his hips into you. His fingers dig into the dip of your hips to keep you in place.

He fucking whimpers at the contact that makes you feel a colourful palette of emotions. You let out a gasp of surprise that emits a deep growl from within his chest at the sound nothing like the sweet mewl he let out not too long ago.

The door bursts open the moment Jeongguk’s hand moves to hold your waist with who knows what kind of intention in mind and three werewolves are pulling him out of the room before you could blink twice. Everything happens so fast that your human senses are unable to keep up.

Your heart clenches painfully inside your ribcage as you hear him mewl and beg for them to let him go. He was so quiet until now. Taehyung is next to you inspecting your body for any injuries but you shake your head to reassure him that all your limbs are intact. Taehyung can smell Jeongguk's scent on you as his saliva started to dry on your neck. You’re more than fine just a little shell shocked.

”I’m fine. H-He just licked my neck.” Automatically your hand comes up to feel your neck except for the saliva that transferred on your fingers from your skin – there are no marks. He didn’t bite you or hurt you. Jeongguk is normally so shy and sweet. You never saw him acting this animalistic before. The sounds he made mere minutes ago left you hot and bothered and you’re glad no one mentions the change in your scent.

The boys made sure the new chains will hold on so you could open the bathroom door again. You hear his whiny voice, he’s telling the boys something but it’s too far away that your brain can’t make out the words only his sorrowful whimpers that pulls on your heartstrings. Jin rubs your arms to comfort you misjudging your distress but you’re too far away in your mind to register his soothing words in your ears.

Yoongi is the first one to come down, his face tells you nothing so you immediately ask him if he’s alright. If Jeongguk is alright. He then looks at you. His expression renders everyone speechless in the room. Yoongi looks deep in thought for a second.

”We have a big problem.” There’s dead silence inside the kitchen as everyone gathers around the table anticipating Yoongi’s elaboration on the subject. You sit between Jimin and Hoseok when Yoongi speaks up again. You know something is wrong when he only looks at you and he seems apologetic for some unknown reason.

”Jeongguk thinks Y/N is his mate.” If you were drinking something you sure would have spit it out by now. This is not what you were expecting your weekend to look like. Far from it. What kind of nonsense is this. Everyone around you is shocked, Taehyung is the first one to get his thoughts together and ask his hyung to repeat that.

”But we know Y/N for years and he never mentioned it once! Are you sure it’s not just his heat talking to get laid?” You can understand why Jimin would be sceptical. It’s not like there were many times where you and Jeongguk spent time alone without the guys if anything it always seemed like that he’s been avoiding you as much as he could.

This is a serious matter wolves don’t just go around calling just anyone their mate though.

It’s not something that happens overnight either. If you’re really his mate that means that he knew it for years! You don’t want to go there yet without a real confirmation but it would at least make sense why he was so shy around you. It’s rare for humans to be mated to werewolves but what’s even rarer is an omega having a human mate. It’s nature’s doing that omegas are mated to alphas 99.9% of the time and Jeongguk calling you his mate would make you the rare 0.1%.

”Even if we’re in heat we don’t claim someone is our mate when it’s not confirmed by our wolves. You know that as well as us, Jimin. He’s not coherent enough to come up with a lie, all we say and do during this time, it’s the truth. It’s a misconception that we say anything just to get laid.” Taehyung shifts from Jimin to you to explain and you nod. Understanding. Still a little out of it as you try to process this new information.

You’re Jeongguk’s mate. It should make you feel weirded out. But you can’t lie to yourself. You occasionally thought about Jeongguk as more than a friend, daydreaming about things involving him either innocently or not. Who do you try to deceive? It happens more than just a few times. The draw you always felt towards him makes perfect sense now that you know you’ve been fated to be together.

It was obvious that you had some kind of effect on him even before today as he always became tongue-tied as soon as you appeared in his peripheral. Realisation draws upon you that even when you meet up with the boys your eyes are searching for his before you greet anyone else.

You assumed that he’s not so fond of you when in reality it was the opposite really. You could also see why he didn’t want to tell you. It’s rare that his mate is a human. You hope that he’s not ashamed of you though. You might not be an alpha but you’re still his.

”What do we do now? I don’t understand why it’s bad news. I mean it’s sudden but-” You gulp avoiding everyone’s eyes before you continue. ”It’s n-not like I’m opposed to the idea.”

Yoongi snorts at my bashful state giving my shoulder a little squeeze of reassurance before the topic shifts. It’s evident that you had the biggest crush on Jeongguk since forever. Everyone in the pack knew about it except for Jeongguk.

”We told you that omegas are different right?” You nod, they talked about a few differences between their pack dynamics and how their heats differ from each other’s but you don’t know that much to be completely honest. It felt invasive on your part so you only listened when they offered to talk about it, you never outright asked.

”It’s painful to go through our heat without a mate but for an omega-” Taehyung trails off, unsure if it’s the best to tell you considering that it will put you in a place where a hard decision needs to be made by you and knowing you, you will want to help even though you’re not sure about it yourself.

”It will take a toll on his health sooner or later and now that he made skin to skin contact and inhaled your scent he can’t possibly think about anything else but to mate you. I don’t know if his body can handle his rut without you this time.”

You vividly remember how Jeongguk begged the boys to let him go, how he cried in agony when they dragged him away from you. He looked completely disoriented. At first, you thought that it’s impossible for his eyes to only focus while looking at you but now it doesn’t seem too far fetched. Maybe all he could see and focus on were you in front of him but so far away while his mind was full of unquenched lust and you’re the object of his desires.

”I can help him.” Their shoulders visibly relax after you offer. It must be hard for them to see their youngest suffer alone like that but they don’t want to force you either as you’re their friend as well. You can’t blame them for wanting the best for him. It seems like things will be a little backwards in your relationship but Jeongguk is not a normal guy either and you shouldn’t be coy now for both of your sakes.

You can picture how mortified he will look once the fog disappears from his mind and realises what happened. He will probably blush like crazy avoiding eye contact like always.

You can’t wait to see that. You just hope things will turn out well in the end.

”Can you uh, in the meantime go somewhere else? I would feel better if no one heard us- you know.” The boys coo as they see the blush spread across your cheeks.

They tease you a little but eventually agree to leave the house until Jeongguk’s heat passes.

Taehyung is reluctant at first he tries to convince you to have one of the boys stay just in case something happens but you reject the idea. The new chains should hold and you don’t think Jeongguk will hurt you. He could have, in the bathroom but he didn’t.

You promise to be careful.

”Just one more thing you need to know before we leave.” Jimin catches you by your sleeve pulling you back to get some distance between you and the boys who pack a few things before they leave. You’re confused why he suddenly asked you to talk to him privately.

”Just a few tips as a wolf.” Jimin winks and you look away to hide your embarrassment.

”I suggest you take a long shower before you go into his room, he will not like you smell like us. It would be even better if you could wear something of his so your scents would mix.”

He takes a whiff of air and chuckles. ”Not that I can’t smell him on you.” Your eyes widen before you look away and blush.

”It makes sense I guess. Anything else I should know?” You push your embarrassment to the side as you ask him. Jimin is not awkward about it at all it’s natural for them to go into heat and talk about this stuff so it’s time that you get yourself together. You need to know everything if you want to help Jeongguk through it properly.

”You know that omegas are normally mated to alphas. It’s a natural instinct to please our mate but it’s different from how we act since we’re more of the dominant side.”

”I’m not an alpha though. This will make a huge difference, isn’t it? What should I do, I’m just a human.” You kind of panic that you might not be able to please him, give him what he wants and craves. What if you can’t help him through his heat because you’re not a wolf? Jimin places a reassuring hand on your head and smiles to soothe your nerves.

”To please his wolf you need to think like an alpha Y/N. Make him submit to you. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a wolf you’re his mate, it doesn’t change his instincts to respond to your advances. He will want you to take control and tell him what to do. An omega only thinks about how to please their mate otherwise he will be anxious and think that you don’t want him or he’s doing something wrong.”

”Tell him what to do, got it.” You smile at him, feeling a little bit more confident than before and he returns your smile nodding.

”Tell him to prep you well too, he won’t be able to hold back his knot and it will be too painful if you’re not stretched.” You never thought that a day will come when you talk about sex with Jimin, you’re getting shy again as you listen to his explicit advice on how to handle an omega in heat.

”Also don’t tell him that I told you but he likes to be called a good boy.” Jimin winks.

”Maybe you should call Tae’s fiancé she can tell you some good advice as a human mate.” He adds as an afterthought before he leaves with the others.

The living room gets quiet as they gather their stuff and leave, you stand there for a moment before you sprung to action. Thinking about that Jeongguk must be in so much pain, it’s been a while since they dragged him back upstairs so you shouldn’t keep him waiting too long.

You need a shower to get ready to see him. You take Jimin’s offer and take your time scrubbing your body with the products you find inside his bathroom and dress up in his long shirt with your underwear underneath. Not wasting time to get fully dressed as it will come off soon enough, hopefully. You’re excited but a little nervous too.

Jeongguk is a handsome wolf and a true sweetheart deep down behind his shy doe eyes.

It seems surreal that he choose you as his mate but you wish he would have told you in better circumstances. Or told you at all considering that he blurted it out in the heat of the moment to his hyungs.

You didn’t know what to expect when you opened the door. But to see his chained form curled in on himself on a single mattress on the ground without a bed frame does things to you. The restraints are probably for precaution as you heard they break them frequently out of frustration.

Remembering the advice from Jimin you try to appear as someone confident when you approach him. Deep breath. You got this.

Order him around, please his wolf by praising him – you give yourself a silent pep talk on your way to his body laying on the ground. You can do that. It’s Jeongguk, your sweet omega that happens to be your mate. It doesn’t matter that you only found out mere hours ago.

He could smell you the minute you opened the door and stepped in. But he refuses to look at you as he makes himself appear smaller to chase away the painful throb of his erection that sends heatwaves through his body now that your sweet scent is potent in the air. Inhaling it strongly from the source makes his head foggy.

He couldn’t get the taste of your skin out of his head since he got to experience it in the bathroom. He wants to lick every crevice of your body until you’re drenched in his scent. It felt so right to push your body flush against him.

You’re confused when he pulls away from your touch, he’s shaking. You have your eyebrows in a deep furrow as you try to figure out what’s wrong. He mewls when you touch his warm skin, he’s burning up. He’s deeper in his heat than you originally thought.

”Look at me.” You hold him by his biceps as you turn him around to face you. Your voice is gentle and coaxing.

He could easily outpower you with his supernatural strength but instead, he lets you move him around as you please and when your eyes meet with his needy darkened pupils you have to bite your lips to hold back a frustrated groan.

Jeongguk is so pretty. You feel guilty that you get to ogle at his body when he’s clearly feeling unwell. Entirely under the spell of his heat. He’ll definitely be the death of you in all of his sweaty glory. He looks so submissive at this moment.  

Maybe the boys were right about one thing. The moon goddess never makes mistakes.

You naturally like submissive partners you have more experience with them so dominating a pretty wolf in heat should be a piece of cake. You can’t believe that you are lucky enough to bag a handsome boy like Jeon Jeongguk.

”I’m here Gukie you don’t have to suffer anymore. I’ll help you.” You kiss his cheek then his nose. Lastly, you place a kiss directly on his chapped lips. Jeongguk moans when he feels your mouth on him. He shyly reciprocates he moves in tandem with you but the sweet lip locking turns greedier when you decide to pull on his hair. His tongue swipes over your lower lip asking for permission that you give him without question.

You suck his tongue into your mouth while your hands eagerly map out his torso.

The sound of the chains grow louder in your ears as he tries to roam your body but the restrains doesn’t let him touch you like he desperately wants to. He lets out a frustrated huff when you kiss along the line of his jaw. As an attempt to make him feel better you catch his wrists to position them above his head.

Your fingers intertwine with his in a loving gesture as you capture his lips in a slow kiss full of tongue and passion surging through your veins. Not feeling close enough you straddle his hips. His sounds grow louder as you begin grinding down on his prominent erection.

”Y- Y/N.” Your name leaves his kiss swollen lips like a mantra when you stand. The protest dies on his tongue when he sees you undress. There’s a flesh of recognition you catch in his eyes. He realises that you’ve been wearing his shirt and now you’re taking it off in front of him. Standing in your blue panties and nothing else.

You inhale sharply when Jeongguk kneels, his hand is on your calf as he inhales deeply nosing along your left thigh.

”Wanna taste you. Ugh, you smell so nice. Can I bury my face in your cunt? Please? Can I?”

You gulp down the pent up saliva in your mouth. You never in a million years had thought that he’ll beg to eat you out, saying such explicit things with no shame.

Your panties are soaked with your arousal after kissing Jeongguk and making out with him for a while. You wonder how your body will react when his lips are wrapped around other parts of your body. The colour where it conceals your centre the material turned to a darker blue, the sight makes the wolf salivate.

Feigning your confidence you push at his chest, gently laying him down flat on the mattress. His eyes light up like Christmas lights when he catches what you’re trying to do.

”Yes, yes! Please sit on my face. I want to lick you all clean. I won’t waste a drop I swear. I’ll make you cum on my tongue until your legs are shaking. My mate’s sweet cunt deserves to be licked clean. Hmp-!” You waste no time in positioning your legs on either side of his face. His dirty mouth manages to rile you up enough that when your pussy hovers over his eager face your centre is dripping. The chains leave him enough space to grip your thighs with his firm hands pulling you down until he can reach you to make the first lick to your cunt.

Your spine immediately arches as he buries his face between your sticky folds. The tip of his nose rubs against your clit as his breath fans across your sex teasing you. He’s inhaling your heady aroma until he can’t hold back anymore and dives in with a long lick. His moan is guttural and animalistic as he enjoys your taste.

His eyes are closed tightly and there’s a furrow to his brows. You recognize the expression he makes when he eats something delicious and your face burns with embarrassment.

Your cunt throbs the more Jeongguk turns you on with his eagerness. But the shy feeling doesn’t last long since he makes sure you can’t think about anything else.

The only thoughts you’re allowed to have is how the visual of his face drenched in your arousal could bring you alone close to the edge. A close second to how his swollen lips and vigorous tongue is about to send you over to the gates of heaven.

His jaw works hard as he slurps loudly, sucking on your pink clit Jeongguk is fuelled by the shameless moans that you bless his ears with – with each stroke of his tongue. He doesn’t relent until your legs are shaking and about to close around his head if it weren’t for his tight grip on your thighs you might have crushed him. He keeps fucking you with his tongue his moans are almost louder than yours and the vibrations it sends to your core is the last push you needed to come undone.

Jeongguk lets you move your hips as you enjoy the last waves of your orgasm. He keeps still under you with his tongue out while you grind down on his face, whimpering as the overstimulation settles in. Your legs are shaking wildly as you try to get down from your high. It doesn’t help how Jeongguk keeps flicking his tongue from your clit to your convulsing hole as he cleans you of any remains of your orgasm.

Jeongguk sends you a wolfish smile, satisfied to see you have a hard time catching your breath. He places a calming peck to your inner thigh before he lets you go and plop down on your ass next to him. Jeongguk’s face shines with your cum he cheekily licks his lips as his eyes stray from your face to your cunt that glistens in the lamplight. The wolf can smell the sweetness of your cum and his saliva mixed in. His cock is rock hard as he tries to wait till you gather yourself.

Your pleasure and comfort is his first priority even though he’s straining every muscle in his body to keep himself from ramming into your spent cunt and mark his territory by cumming inside your fertile pussy. His cock throbs painfully as he imagines how tight you’ll be around him as he penetrates you with his wide cockhead. He’ll fuck you raw and cum inside. He’ll knot you and paint your walls white to make sure every wolf and man out there knows that you belong to him.

You have no idea what Jeongguk’s been thinking about while you were collecting yourself after the intense orgasm he coaxed from you but judging by the stare he gives you it must be deliciously sinful.

Your gaze is fixed on his bulge, it seems painful so you palm him over his slacks trying to return the favour but Jeongguk rips your hand away from his clothed erection.

You’re startled at how roughly he tore your hand away from him that makes you look away in shame.

Maybe you read into his actions wrong and he finds your touch repulsive somehow. His wolf sensing your negative emotions Jeongguk pulls you to him by a hand on the back of your neck and plants a messy kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue. You’re still confused by his previous outburst but you try again. Inching closer to the tent in his pants and rub the heel of your palm over his entire length.

Jeongguk breaks the kiss to whimper into your neck. His hands find leverage on your shoulders as you massage his cock over his clothes. Judging by the outline, his dick is massive not only in grith but long enough to fill you up and curve just where your pleasure spot is.

”Stop.” Jeongguk grips your hand when it tries to slide under the material of his pants. ”I don’t wanna waste any of my seed. My cum belongs to be spurt deep in your pussy.”

”But- I want to taste you too.” You don’t relent this time. Knowing that you’re stubborn if you want something Jeongguk lets go of your hand and helps you by lifting his hip so you can get him out of his clothes. He’s so big. You lick your lips, mesmerised how your grip can hardly wrap around his base.

Jeongguk watches you with half-lidded eyes. He lets you take care of him slipping back to submission as you show him the dominance that his wolf recognises with delight.

Your fingers work his shaft like magic, his precum aids an easy glide. You don’t need to use your spit to make his cock slippery as your hands can set a faster pace without any resistance. ”Your cock is so wet Gukie. Does eating my pussy turned you on this much?”

You twist your fingers skillfully, dragging the sensitive skin up and down until he chants your name between heavy pants. He chokes on his moan when you engulf the tip of his cock in your mouth without warning, tasting him for the first time.

”Yes! Hmmph- Y/N. You’re so delicious. I want your taste on my tongue forever.” You hum around his cock, pleased by his answer. Your tongue rolls around the head collecting the bead of precum you reach lower following the throbbing vein down his shaft and then you suck. Jeongguk throws his head back and mewls.

”I’ll cum! Please Y/N stop or I’ll c-cum down your throat! Fuck, please I can’t t-take it. Your mouth is so w-warm and wet.” You continue stroking his cock as you pay most of your attention to his sensitive cockhead. But right before he could tip over the edge you pull away. Ripping the orgasm from him that it’s just out of his reach.

Remembering the piece of advice from Jimin you reluctantly pull away and settle down on your back again. You spread your legs wide and beckon Jeongguk to come closer. He does so eagerly following your body on all fours until he hovers above you.

You really want to skip this part as he managed to rile you up enough to drown in your arousal you remember that his knot is no joke. If you don’t want to feel like you’re being ripped in half you need a little stretch before you let him fuck you.

You share a heated kiss that turns slopy real soon, your moans interrupting the flow of your intertwined tongues as Jeongguk ruts his bare cock along your folds.

”Need your fingers or your huge cock won’t fit. We can’t have that won’t we?”

You run your hands through Jeongguk’s sweaty hair, you need something to focus on to keep yourself to the plan when his cock catches onto your clit each time he thrust back and forth. You can tell from his desperate rutting that he wants that too but decides to listen to you and guide his long fingers to your fluttering opening.

You’re glad to have something in you even though it’s not as good as his cock would feel. His fingers are thick and long and he certainly knows how to use them as you feel another orgasm approach you all too soon. His pace is ruthless as he thrust his digits in and out. He mainly focuses on stretching you as he adds a third finger but can’t help himself as he dips down to latch his mouth onto your sensitive clit.

He doesn’t hear you when you tell him to stop before he could send you over the edge again. Your taste invades his senses – you can see how his eyes turn gold whilst his fingers fuck you mercilessly until you’re cumming around them.

Jeongguk is insatiable or maybe it’s the wolf in him that encourages him to wreak you. His wolf won’t be satisfied until your legs shake like jelly and your eyes are filled with tears of pleasure.

You focus on his flexing biceps as he keeps his full body weight above you for a moment. His cock finally sinks into your heat that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head in overstimulation.

Jeongguk’s cock fills you up to the brim, slides home in your wet cunt with ease. It would be surprising if it wasn’t thinking back to the long foreplay that he subjected you to. Jeongguk’s stamina and self control is no joke but knowing that he kept a huge secret from you for all these years tells you that he had time to practice.

He’ll have to do a lot of making up to you but right now you just enjoy the sharp thrust of his hips. The bliss that shows on his face how heavenly your pussy stretches around his grith is worths more than all the money in the world. Knowing that you’re the source of that pleasure. His hands are all over your body. Kneading your breasts, feeling up your tummy where he can feel the outline of his cock move in and out.

Wants to dive deeper and make your moan sound higher as the airy sounds you let out fill his wolf with pride. He imagined this too many times that his self control is slowly slipping from his fingertips as he thrust harder drilling you into the mattress until he feels the base of his cock swell. Letting him know that he’s getting close.

Jeongguk draws tight circles with the tip of his thumb to coax one more orgasm out of you before he releases.

He makes you cum for the third time tonight. The pleasure is numbing as you start to feel his knot enlarge plugging your pussy up tightly so his cum doesn’t spill.

You don’t feel the pain from his knot as you blackout for a moment or two from the exhaustion that overwhelms your sore muscles when your body realises that Jeongguk is finally done with you. The gold hue is slowly vanishing from his doe eyes as you both bask in the afterglow. His face is securely tucked between your breasts cushioning his head from either side. Sweat and cum is everywhere as Jeongguk rolls onto his back once his knot ebbs away.

There’s a charged silence between you as you both try to regain your breaths.

You relax when Jeongguk pulls you into his arms he doesn’t care that you’re both gross and sweaty. He happily noses along your neck, smelling that his scent is all over you.

You release him from his chains knowing that he’ll be more in control now that he knotted before you succumb to sleep. You decide it’s enough reassurance for now as you soon drift off from exhaustion.

The next couple of days are intense. He wakes you up by slipping inside your spent count he whines into your ear when you don’t react to his advances at first.

You’re still sleepy and worn out but he manages to coax your moans out with his precise thrusts against your sweet spot. He shoots another load in you then goes back to sleep not bothering with slipping out as he cages you between his arms.

Jeongguk doesn’t let you out of his sight until his heat passes on the third day. But before that, he fucks you on every surface of the room, against the wall, with your ass up in the air bend over the dresser. From behind on all fours on the mattress.

By the time he’s knocked out you’re sore everywhere and you barely get yourself to walk a few metres to the bathroom for a well deserved clean up. You grab Jeongguk’s clothes from the dryer and set out a fresh pair for him to change into when he wakes up.

It gets easier to move around after you get used to a slight ache between your legs so you start on breakfast. You help yourself to two servings, making sure that you’re not eating too fast to avoid throwing up. Helping Jeongguk out with his heat took out everything of you, you no longer question why Taehyung and Jimin’s partners need a week to recover and feel like a human being again.

You can hear Jeongguk’s feet pad down the stairs, he sends you a bashful smile when your eyes meet. It’s awkward as you don’t know where you stand with him right now. During his heat, you had no time or the energy to discuss the elephant in the room but you can’t avoid the topic any longer. You refuse to pretend like nothing happened either. Your heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

”Were you ever planning to tell me?” It’s you who speaks first. Jeongguk avoids your eyes at all costs that speak more than any of his words could. It’s probably the exhaustion catching up to you after the intense fucking but your eyes fill up with tears.

Jeongguk panics when he sees the first roll of your tears slide down your cheeks. He’s about to say something when the front door opens and voices start to filter through the living room. They probably got your text that his heat is over. Still in his clothes, you stand up and walk to the front door leaving a panicking Jeongguk behind.

”Call me if you finally have something to say otherwise don’t bother.” You say it to the boy behind your back. Your voice is weak and Jeongguk wants to wrap his hands around you and tell you how much you mean to him. How sorry he is.

Instead, he watches you walk out. The boys look behind you they exchange a confused gaze before they jab Jeongguk for answers. It seemed like you didn’t even hear them say hello to you as you walked out. They could tell that you looked like you were about to ugly cry.

Jeongguk has to deal with six angry brothers as they all give him the stink eye for hurting you. He got several comments during the week about how he should get his head out of his ass and man up. For the record, Jeongguk knows that he needs to apologise to you sooner or later.

This is not how he expected his heat to go. He was dead set at spending it alone this year like every other year before but then he smelled you. You smelled so tempting so delicious. If he closes his eyes he could still remember how you tasted when you sat on his face. The reason why he kept it a secret from you is stupid now that he thinks about it. He ruined his every chance at being with you by not telling you about the mate bond that he could sense from the very beginning.

You had a boyfriend at the time you got introduced to the boys. You were Taehyung’s friend first but when you accidentally discovered that he’s a werewolf you joined the gang.

Jimin and Taehyung’s girlfriend immediately took a liking to you, you seemed to fit in with them perfectly. It wasn’t even a full year after that you finally broke up with your boyfriend but then he didn’t know how to bring it up with you.

He avoided you for at least half of the year after you joined it would have been weird if he suddenly started to act different around you. He dug his own grave there with his boundaries.

He kept waiting for the right time until it blew up in his face and now you’re hurt. You haven’t been visiting and the boys made sure that Jeongguk knew it’s because of him. They had a whole meeting addressing the issue. Jeongguk had to tell them everything and while they were still mad at him they could also see where he’s coming from.

After they heard Jeongguk’s side of the story they tried to spam your text messages.

All of them encouraged you to reach out and talk it out with the young werewolf but you were always a stubborn one. You told Jeongguk that if he wants to tell you something then he has to reach out first when you left the packhouse that day.

You initiated the first talk and he didn’t even say anything. Sure the boys interrupted you but he didn’t look like he was going to speak anytime soon. The girls came over to cheer you up. You couldn’t say no to wine and chicken. They told you that they gave a piece of their mind when they saw Jeongguk.

You didn’t like to hear how he has been moping around the house after you left. A part of you thinks that he deserves it but another part is still in love with him. You don’t like to see him sad.

He’s a big eater but the boys told you over text that he skips meals and locks himself up in his room instead of hanging out with them. It’s clear they try to butter you up and reach out first.

After the first month, you begin to lose hope that Jeongguk will ever reach out to you.

What’s worse is that you really miss him. You miss his smile, his adorable doe eyes that he keeps avoiding you with, how he works out in the morning. His laugh, everything about him is perfect. In your eyes anyways and today you’re in a particularly shitty mood.

You try to distract yourself from your period cramps by watching some show on Netflix but you can barely concentrate on the plot. A knock on the door interrupts you but you pay it no mind it’s probably one of the boys or your girlfriends checking up on you so you yell that they can come in.

You’re in no shape to get up as a particularly hard cramp makes you cringe and fold your body in half from the pain.

”Are you alright?” Your eyes shoot open when you hear his voice. He was the last person that you thought would visit and while you’re on your period nonetheless.

”Fine. It’s just that time of the month.” You grit out. Your hair is a mess and you’re in your least appealing clothes but Jeongguk still thinks that you’re beautiful. He can smell the iron in the air but it doesn’t disgust him he’s more worried about you in pain.

”What do you think you’re doing?” Your bewilderment is showing but you let Jeongguk manoeuvre your body as he pleases. He lets your head down to rest against his thighs as he sits. One hand is rubbing your tummy while the other reaches for the remote to choose another movie. You can’t lie this position is very comfortable and thanks to his werewolf genes he’s like a living furnace. His hand is so warm against your stomach that you can already feel the pain ebbing.

”I don’t like to see you in pain.” You didn’t expect an answer like that. Jeongguk looks at his hand laying on your stomach, his hands are big he could cover most of it. Fuck. Why do you have to be horny while you’re on your period? This is not the time to remember how good his tongue felt or how deep his cock- ok you’re not going down that road. You have to remember that Jeongguk can fucking smell your arousal.

You were supposed to be still mad at him and not cuddling on your couch when he haven’t reached out for a full month after he fucked you to the moon and back! He lied to you!

”I’m not in the mood for your games Jeongguk. If you have nothing to say then please leave.” It takes everything in you to move away from the comfortable position. As soon as his hand leaves your stomach the pain comes back but you try to not show your discomfort.

You have your back to him as you sit up. You expect him to do as you said. Leave. But he surprises you by hugging you from behind. Your back is firmly pushed against his chest you could hear his heart hammer around in his chest as if he’s nervous.

You have no idea how nervous he is. He’s here to apologise and maybe mend what can still be fixed between you but he’s afraid he’ll say all the wrong things again. The past month was hell. He watched Jimin and Taehyung being all lovely dovely with their mates and a deep longing settled into his heart.

He wants that with you too. Taehyung could see how the younger boy has been struggling so he decided to sit down and talk to him. Taehyung knows well how it feels to want your mate that’s so close but still out of reach. He has been in love with his best friend for a long time. Their situation is somewhat similar as Taehyung confessed when his heat kicked in. His mate reacted differently but the situation was different and Jeongguk was foolish enough to let you walk out that door.

Jeongguk realised that his hyung is right. He can’t be sure that you won’t forgive him. He has to try and try some more until you give in. Jeongguk swears that he’ll treat you right. He thanked Taehyung for his advice and drove to your place. He found you on the couch with a thick wool blanket draped around your shoulders and a pained expression etched into your beautiful features.

Even before he asked what was wrong he could smell your period blood. Your temperature rises and your heart rate quickens he knows all the signs. He doesn’t know what to say or how to start so he decides he’ll try to show you with his actions.

It seems to backfire though as you pull away.

”I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing that comes out as he presses himself against you, his arms are wrapped around you tightly – afraid that you’ll slip through his fingers if he lets go.

”For what?” You try not to sound too hopeful. Your heart is beating as fast as his. He could hear it and it calms him down. Knowing that he’s not the only one nervous.

Jeongguk takes it as a sign to continue when you place your hand on his that is around you.

”I should have told you. I knew that you were my mate the moment our eyes met for the first time. Your boyfriend was right next to you. I. I didn’t think I should tell you. T- then you broke up but the time never was right. You thought that I didn’t like you and I didn’t know how to change that. Even now I keep saying the wrong things that make you cry. I’m really sorry Y/N.” His arms hold you even closer as he tries to apologise. He hopes that he’s saying all the right things for once.

”I love you Jeongguk.” Since he initiated the hug it’s the first time that you let yourself relax and fall against his chest. He can’t believe his own ears. If it’s possible his heart beats a little faster at the confession you shyly whisper into the air. He spins you around to catch your lips and seal your confession. His eyes flash gold for a second before it turns back to his original dark doe eyes that you’ve fallen in love with.

His tongue asks for permission that you give him with a content sigh. Jeongguk doesn’t shy away to devour your lips now that the air cleared between you he keeps one hand buried in your hair and the other fondles your breasts under your worn out shirt. His calloused fingertips on your naked flesh send goosebumps all over your body. He has a lot of making up to do. Never a better time to start than the present and you’re not complaining. Your cunt is already throbbing to have something inside that’s way bigger than your tiny little tampon.

Your breasts are more sensitive to the touch than normal thanks to your period. Even after a few flicks with his thumb over the rosy buds, you could feel yourself getting wetter. His familiar scent is enough to rile you up as you playfully bite his shoulder when he grips your breasts a little harder. You seem to discover a weak spot as Jeongguk throws his head back with a loud moan.

”A werewolf with a biting kink. Who would have thought?” Your laugh is short-lived as Jeongguk doesn’t appreciate your humour at the moment. Your little bite made his cock harden within seconds. He’s a bit sad that he doesn’t get to eat you out this time he really loves how you taste but he’ll make sure to do so some other time once your period is over. Jeongguk flips you over to rest on your back but you stop him before he could rip your and his clothes off and have his way with you.

”Guk we can’t do it on the couch. I’ll never be able to clean the blood from it let’s go to the bathroom.” Jeongguk agrees and lets you stand up. He doesn’t give two shits about your couch but he respects your decision. The bathroom is an easier place to clean and he plans to make a mess.

Jeongguk helps you strip down and while he gets rid of his clothes you remove your tampon and throw it into the bin. The warm water helps your tense muscles relax instantly. It helps when Jeongguk kneads your shoulders the innocent action makes a loud moan rip from your throat that reminds Jeongguk what he should be doing instead. The massage could wait he needs to stick his dick inside you.

You’re so wet and warm. Warmer than normal. He’s not in heat but it feels good to be buried in your tight cunt. If anything he prefers this as he gets to keep a clear head.

You close your eyes when he starts moving. You know yourself that you’ll blush if you see the mess you make but Jeongguk is not bothered by the blood at all, the water washes it away anyway. This is different than before and your heart flutters when Jeongguk keeps you close as he thrusts in and out sloppily. He’s not in a rush to finish he simply enjoys your tight walls sucking his cock in. You accommodate his length so well even though he knows about his impressive size.

Your cramps are long forgotten as Jeongguk makes you feel so good. His curved tip rubs against your bundle of nerves every time he dives back in. He pinches your sensitive nipples while the other unoccupied hand finds your clit to throw you over the edge of bliss you cry out his name when your orgasm hits. Jeongguk releases his load soon after you come down from your high. Both of you clung to each other for a moment longer before you start cleaning up.

The young werewolf has a hard time keeping his hands to himself as you wash the sweat and blood away. You let him run his soapy hands all around your body, you’re glad that he doesn’t try anything other than help you. Your mood has improved and your stomach doesn’t hurt anymore but you still feel a little under the weather because of the symptoms. Jeongguk grabs every opportunity to cling to you as you make yourself some tea. He kisses your shoulder, your neck and your cheeks every so often to show his affection. It feels good to be wrapped around him.

He spends the night at your place before you drive back with him to the packhouse in the morning. Everyone is ecstatic to see you two together it also has been a while since you all got to hang around like this. You missed everyone. You remember how Jeongguk teased Taehyung and his girlfriend when they finally got together and they made sure to tease him right back now that you’re officially a couple.

”They grow up so soon. First Jimin then Taehyung and now our Jeonggukie has found his mate.” Seokjin pretends that he’s wiping away his tears he speaks directly to Namjoon but he makes sure everyone hears him loud and clear. You enjoy how everyone keeps roasting Jeongguk so you just laugh and leisurely play with your lover’s longer stands. The youngest groans when the girls giggle and agree with Jin.

”You oldies should pick up your game. How is it that all the youngest found their mates but you’re all single.” Jeongguk bites back then earns a glare from Hoseok and Yoongi who are seated on the other side clearly trying to watch a film instead of paying attention to the conversation. Not that it’s possible when everyone is so loud.

”Sorry to interrupt but. Guys listen. We have something to tell you.” Jimin holds his girlfriend close one hand is on her stomach as their smiles reach ear to ear. Everyone gasps loudly.

”Wait! No way.” Even Jeongguk sits up straighter as the lovebirds share a cute giggle.

”We’re having a baby!” Jimin announces. The couple shares a sweet kiss before everyone stands up to congratulate and share a hug. You leave Jeongguk’s side to envelop your friend in a warm embrace that soon turns out to be a girls only group hug when Taehyung’s fiancé joins. You all giggle and share your enthusiasm when you catch the boys doing the same with Jimin while they laugh and hug each other. Last month Taehyung’s engagement now Jimin’s baby is coming. What an eventful year. You didn’t think that this year will bring your own happy ending as well but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

Your gazes meet with Jeongguk in the middle of the chaos as everyone celebrates. You both have warm smiles on your faces.

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter One

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2101

Chapter Warning: Bad Language Words, tiny bit of angst

A/N: I started this on AO3 awhile ago. Now that I have a blog dedicated primarily to just Marvel/Bucky, I thought I’d add it here, too. Enjoy!

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission.  

Bucky heard his phone buzz as he was tugging a butter-soft tee over his head. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand next to his bed as he worked his arms into their respective holes.

9:36

Steve was long in bed already, so the text most likely wasn’t from him. Sam was on a me me kick-- No, what did he call them? Memes!-- of a disgruntled cat which he swore reminded him of the super soldier. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were him. Or possibly Nat. She picked up the new issue of Guns & Ammo the other day and was sending him pictures of a Mossberg MC1sc 9mm she was drooling over.

Smoothing the body of the shirt over his torso, Bucky ambled over to his bed. He snatched up the phone from the navy blue comforter and flipped it over. To his amazement, the text wasn’t from Sam or Nat. Or even Steve.

(917) 460-5480 work thing boring af. kinda tied one on. might be late meeting you tomorrow

He blinked several times at the message, uncertain how to respond. It was a wrong number, right? Bucky hadn’t made plans with anyone for tomorrow that he could remember. Plus, everyone he knew had the same work thing. And it was rarely boring.

Definitely a wrong number.

He set the phone down near the clock, choosing to ignore the text. Hopefully, whoever this person was, figured out quickly they were texting the wrong number and moved on.

Bucky pulled back the covers before climbing into bed. His body melted into the mattress, muscles relaxing for the first time since breakfast. Training had been non-stop all day today. It felt good to just be, for once.

He grabbed the book he was reading off the nightstand and opened it to the spot he left off. He cleared his mind, as best he could, and concentrated on the words on the page.

A few pages in, his phone vibrated alive again. Another text message.

(917) 460-5480 sis dont be mad youd be drinking too if you had to sit thru one of these business dinners

Bucky sighed. He had hoped his radio silence would have clued this person into their mistake. Wishful thinking. Before he could punch out a reply, another text came through.

(917) 460-5480 timmons is droning on about this new client. kill me now

He quickly typed out a reply:

(917) 308-3117 I think you sent this to me by mistake.

Bucky watched the text indicator pulse as this unknown person worked out their response.

(917) 460-5480 haha very funny sis

Bucky huffed at this person’s disbelief, thumbs working on typing out his next message.

(917) 308-3117 I’m not trying to be funny. I can’t be someone’s sister when I’m a man.

He set the phone down on the nightstand again, hoping this person finally took a hint. He opened his book back up to the current page, taking a deep breath.

The room’s silence was broken again by the loud thrumming of his phone skittering across the surface of the black wood veneer.

(917) 460-5480 how does kevin feel about this so close to the wedding???

(917)460-5480 will you still need a wedding dress or will you just get a tux???

(917) 460-5480 am i still your maid of honor???

Bucky chuckled at this girl (no, young woman) asking the essential questions.

(917) 308-3117 Your sister did not get a sex change. Yes, she will still need a wedding dress. Yes, you are still her maid of honor. Like I said before, wrong number.

An almost immediate reply came through.

(917) 460-5480 prove it

Bucky grew slightly irritated at the insinuation. Why couldn’t she take his word for it? He exhaled loudly through his nose.

(917) 308-3117 How?

A few moments passed before the device juddered in the palm of his large hand.

(917) 460-5480 selfie

Bucky blanched at the request. He could feel the color drain from his face, only to immediately heat with a blush. A selfie? That is the last thing he wanted to do.

Although he’d been exonerated for his crimes as The Winter Soldier, he still knew about the dislike people felt about him as a person, in general. They couldn’t get past the brainwashing or other persona. God knows he still struggled with it.

He couldn’t go broadcasting his face through texts to a stranger. What if she was one of those who didn’t understand he had no say in what he did or what happened to him under Hydra’s control?

What if he ignored the solicitation? He could do that. Maybe even turn off his phone.

She did seem the type to be very persistent until she got what she wanted.

True to form, another text rang through.

(917) 460-5480 i will keep texting until i see your manly face

One corner of his lips quirked higher. Yup, persistent.

He navigated to the camera app on his phone and switched it to selfie mode. He stared at the damp locks falling to his shoulders. His beard would require a trim soon, but it wasn’t scraggly. Luckily, he’d had the hindsight to shave his neckbeard in the shower earlier.

Was he considering this? Some girl says jump, and he asks how high?

He combed metal fingers through his hair, blowing out a breath.

(917) 460-5480 im waiting

Bucky growled at the text, running a hand over his face. “Okay, okay. Give me a second,” he said to his phone. He held it up to head height, half an arm’s length away.

Click!

He previewed the picture, assuring himself it didn’t reveal too much. It was, somehow, off-center, containing a bearded chin and half a smirked mouth, one nostril, and a half-lidded eye.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bucky pulled the messaging app back up and then sent off the picture. He tossed the phone aside, not wanting to watch the taunting blinking dots as he waited for a reply.

The picture was barely recognizable, but someone like Steve or Nat could tell it was him. It would be okay. No one would know.

His phone vibrated violently near him on the bed. Bucky cautiously plucked the device up, debating whether he wanted to read her reply. What if it said, “Holy shit! You’re The Winter Soldier!”? The hope of this woman thinking he was just some regular guy knotted up his stomach. He didn’t know why he cared so much about whether this stranger thought he was The Soldier or not. He had no control over who believed the lies perpetrated as truth through the media. He could only wish for the best.

He blew out the breath he was holding in and eyed the phone’s screen.

(917) 460-5480 is it fair to say men shouldnt be allowed to have long eyelashes??

Bucky laughed and immediately thought of poor Steve.

(917) 308-3117 You should see my buddy’s. The girls swoon and complain at the same time.

He quickly added to the message thread:

(917) 308-3117 Am I correct to assume you believe I’m a man and not your sister?

The response was swift.

(917) 460-5480 oh shit ur not my sister

(917) 460-5480 this isnt 9173083447?

Bucky laughed again, the tension in his chest slowly unfurling.

(917) 308-3117 Unfortunately for you-- no.

(917) 460-5480 ugh im such an idiot sorry for the shit i said

(917) 308-3117 Don’t worry about it. I had a good laugh at your expense.

(917) 460-5480 oh god now i feel like a bigger ass

Bucky suddenly felt like backpedaling. He hadn’t meant for her to feel bad about her mistake. It was cute in a roundabout way.

(917) 308-3117 Please don’t be embarrassed. It was the highlight of my night.

(917) 460-5480 me forcing u to prove ur a man was the best part of ur night??

Bucky thought for a moment. Was it the best part? The training sessions had become monotonous lately, even with the new agents. The team hadn’t been on any missions in a few weeks, so it was pretty accurate to say he was bored around the compound.

(917) 308-3117 I suppose it was. Work’s been a little slow, and there’s only so much training you can do before it becomes tedious.

(917) 460-5480 training? r u in the military? ooh, r u an athlete??

A laugh bubbled up from his chest. It was comical to see her try to guess his profession. His selfie hadn’t announced who he was to her after all.

(917) 308-3117 Something like that.

(917) 460-5480 so mysterious! r u some assassin who needs to keep his identity secret? is that y ur selfie only showed a quarter of ur face??

He paled at the implication. Maybe she did know and was yanking his chain. How did he block numbers again?

Another text came through from the mystery woman:

(917) 460-5480 not that i mind u have a luscious mouth

Bucky guffawed at the comment as flames rose beneath the skin of his cheeks. He hadn’t remembered blushing this much in such a short amount of time in decades.

(917) 308-3117 How much have you had to drink tonight, doll?

(917) 460-5480 doll?? what r u my grandpa??

He chuckled again. God, he was old enough and then some.

(917) 460-5480 enough to not want to shoot my brains out but not enough to know this dinner isnt a party

(917) 308-3117 Maybe you should get back to your dinner? I don’t want to get you into trouble.

He regretted the text the second he pressed send. Was he trying to get rid of her? No. Or was he looking out for her? This person he knew nothing about. She was more entertaining than the recurring nightmare he’d been having for the last week, that's for sure. He'd cling to this unknown to avoid slipping into that black abyss.

(917) 460-5480 aww does the military-trained assassin athlete mchottie not want to talk with me anymore?? 🙁

(917) 308-3117 No!! I’m honestly concerned you’ll be reprimanded if you pay more attention to your phone than Timmons.

The last thing Bucky needed was to feel more guilt, especially if it was at the expense of someone’s livelihood. His shoulders were already heavy enough.

(917) 460-5480 thats sweet but dont worry ur pretty little head over me timmons wouldnt last a day w/o me

(917) 460-5480 timmons may be the boss but i run that office

He simpered at her swagger. He could only imagine what kind of office she worked in because, again, a total stranger. Did he want to get to know her more, or was this a one and done thing? Would she wake up tomorrow and want to continue the conversation or blow him off for the drunken mistake her first text had been?

Bucky stared at his phone for several more minutes, pondering precisely what he was doing and what his expectations of the night were. It’s not like he was going to meet her in person, right? Was he that delusional? He was an Avenger now. He didn’t get a social life. Not that he had one before but still.

He was startled from his reverie as the phone shook in his hand.

(917) 460-5480 did i scare you away??

(917) 308-3117 No. Just thinking about tomorrow.

(917) 460-5480 shit a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie must have a lot to prepare for mentally ill let u get ur rest

He smiled at the gesture. If only she knew.

(917) 308-3117 Send me a text when you get home. I want to make sure you arrived okay.

(917) 460-5480 such a gentleman! i don’t want to wake u if ur asleep tho

(917) 308-3117 I doubt I’ll be sleeping, but it’ll help ease my mind.

(917) 460-5480 alright ill shoot a text ttfn

(917) 308-3117 ttfn?

(917) 460-5480 ta ta for now god u r a grandpa

(917) 308-3117 Yeah, yeah

Bucky’s mouth split into yet, another grin as he set his phone down once again on the nightstand. He picked up his discarded book and found his place on the page. After a few minutes of re-reading the same paragraph over and over, he slipped the bookmark into the gutter of the book. His mind was too preoccupied with the thought of some random girl in the city at a boring work dinner. He realized he hadn’t stopped smiling since they temporarily said goodbye.

Maybe there was a good chance this conversation would carry into tomorrow.

CHAPTER TWO

[rubbrfrk9]

REBORN

I HAD A NAME. I used to be somebody.

I had a profession, dignity, a position in the class structure.

Nowadays, I see through a cracked lens - society is broken, and the people participating in it are all prisoners.  The people you see shuffling in the great to and from, every morning, every evening - they’re miserable.  Ask any one of them if they wouldn’t leave their life, and - perhaps after some hesitation - they would say Yes.  

Even the ones who have kids - the ones in love - all of them.  In fact, those with ties to other people are the first ones to get in line.

For me, it was curiosity that opened the door.  If one follows the classic Hero’s Journey, the arc that every myth and story takes, I heard the Call - just like you - through a buzzing, pixelated source… the great and sordid world of the internet.  

One wrong step can put you on an entirely different path.  

When you look back, the path you were on is obscured by the surrounding environs - pressed firmly closed, as though no thing had ever once passed through.

I should introduce myself before I preach anymore.  I am rubbrfrk9.  You’ve read the stories on the website, you might’ve seen my name watermarked on pics as you scroll by on your tumblr feed.  

That hasn’t been our name always.  But what our name was before does not matter.

All hail the Rubbered One!

And if you’re reading this, then you’re as curious as I was.  

Do you dare follow your own Call?

If you do, keep reading.

THE CALL COMES FOR YOU. You don’t come for it.  The Call has been there, waiting, for you to pick up the other end, for as long as you’ve been alive.

Like I was saying, for me, it was curiosity.  It seems like it is for you, too.

I was always a curious guy.  It’s how I became a teacher, I guess.  I loved to learn about shit.  Endless amounts of shit.  The subjects that interested me were sucked dry by my voracious need to know.  On top of it all, I was cursed (blessed?) by a need to collect, a completionist’s frenzy, and so I found myself needing not just to know, but to know it all.

Everything.  A question could not go unanswered.  I was a very vocal kid, always asking the dread “Why?” to anyone who had the faculty to answer.  Of course, I learned quickly that faculty does not imply ability; and later still, that ability does not imply honesty.  Soon enough, I started shutting up and consulting other avenues of information - books.  I loved books.  I read anything I could find, from my mother’s tawdry romances on the back of the toilet to magazines at the doctor’s office - but my preferred genre was Horror, without a doubt.

I loved to read stories of unfortunate people, blind to their predicament, be lulled to the predator in the story.  I loved how the protagonists were slowly overcome by a sense of dawning knowledge, and were thus able to conquer - or not - the abiding horror.  The best ones were when the hero failed, in my opinion - those dark, twisted passages of despair and helplessness …

I was a weird kid.  

I didn’t have very much luck making friends.  I didn’t really understand what a “friend” should be.  I knew that it was some sort of social construct, but I hadn’t figured out how it worked yet.  Taking the time to do that analysis set me back, quite substantially, in the invisible school of society.  Maybe, at heart, I was always a bit of a freak, even before I came out.  

Funny to think of that, now, sitting here, writing from behind my gas mask and full rubber suit.  

All hail the Rubbered One!

I love how tightly it encases me.  How tightly it erases me.  

Slowly, now.  Don’t give up too quick.  Finish the story first.

As I was saying.  Curiosity.  After college, I became a teacher.  A professor.  Very highly regarded in my field, but poor with social interactions.  Dates?  Of a professional courtesy, only, and as awkward and dry as a lecture.  Actually, for me, lecturing was my second home, aside from my tidy and obsessively-ordered apartment.  I loved standing at the podium, talking about the books we read together.  How they are structured, and how events, following a certain chain, can be transformative.  

Although sometimes, horrific.

Life that is contained entirely within the snowglobe of acadæmia becomes brittle, after a time.  Even the most relentlessly anti-social of us have a heartbeat, a pulse, and a sexual drive.

Most sexual drives will tend towards the obligatory, the procreational.  Attractiveness, physicality, congruence, intercourse, and then the subsequent emotional tangle.  Sex is more than just a body meeting a body a-comin’ thru the rye - it is a rendezvous of energy, some of which we can’t even begin to understand.

Some kind of cosmic interplay happens during sex.  

Something so bright, so chimeric, that I was blinded just thinking about it.

I fled from it, like a medieval monk from a vision of God.

SPARE TIME. I spent most of my time in my apartment in my bedroom, perched with my skinny knees up, my face obliterated by the powder-white light of my phone.  I’d scroll endlessly.  And always pictures of men.

I’d known I was gay way before most people do, but I’d never bothered to “come out” or anything that obvious.  I just kept my feelings to myself, for as long as I could - which may not have been the healthiest thing to do, in hindsight, and when they finally vibrated at the seal on the pressure gauge, I spewed it out all over the internet.

Tumblr was my outlet.  You could find something for every kink, from men transforming into donkeys to using politics as a sexual tool.  I considered myself omnisexual.  I could be convinced, really, to like anything.  Except a few things.

I never really got into the big “full fetish” scene.  I’d, of course, seen the pictures go by - of Folsom, Folsom Europe, even some kinksters trying to make a name for themselves, become influencers, with pictures so heavily edited and filtered they almost looked fake.

But for me, my kink was - get this - intimacy.  I loved pictures of men, beautiful men, kissing, embracing.  Tangling together, with bliss inscribed on their faces.  And it was that expression that did it for me - the bliss, the complete and total walling-off of any worldly concern but the physical, the presence of another’s lips, breath, proximity -

It got me off, every time.  Imagining myself in those positions.  Wearing those clothes.  Caught up in those bedsheets.

Then, I’d stare into the mirror, and flex my coming-along biceps.  My quads.  I’d get dressed for the gym, and I’d go work out for an hour.  

I loved my routine, even if I felt the dreary recalcitrance to wake up every morning and head to work, just another body with the other bodies, shuffling to and from.  The night time is when I felt the surge of life - I would be free of the grimy shackles of the city, I would pound through the tumblr feed, I would shower, I would go workout.  

Life was half-bliss.

But as anyone who has half of bliss will tell you, it is never enough.  You must go searching for the second half of bliss - and I found mine on the night in question.

Knees up, one foot tapping a heel in idle, anxious rhythm.  Eyes greedily consuming, picture after picture, and then -

My thumb hovered over the screen as if about to lay a fingerprint down on a reader.  I stared.

The picture, my gateway, was a bedroom picture much like any other I saw in my daily feed, except for one crucial ingredient - one of the men was entirely encased, from head to toe, in shiny black rubber.

The rubber was so shiny, so depthless, so reflective, that it almost seemed as though its host was Not - as though there were some kind of blotting-out, erasing, blankening … And yet, this Not Person was being encircled by the arms of another man, a strong man, by the looks of it, his biceps bulging around the Rubbered One.

Even now, looking back on it, I find it insanely difficult to pry my eyes away from the memory of that reflective rubber.  That shiny, reflective black rubber.  And the detail!  I could see the hollows of the eyes, the imprint of the big toenail, the curls of the ears down to the tragus - it was truly as though this was not a suit being worn, this was a suit that was animated, had breath and energy of its own.  

Perhaps it was, in hindsight, seducing the man which embraced it.

I don’t know how long I stared at the picture.  A long time.  I was fascinated with everything about it - the mess of clothing on the side of the bed, socks and shirts strewn around, as if someone had melted and left only their garments as markers that they ever existed at all.  Even a pair of glasses lay askew on the carpet, next to a pair of jeans and Chucks.

If I listened, I could almost hear my own heartbeat, beating in time with the glints of light off of that rubber surface, as though the Rubbered One were moving, in infinitesimally small increments, writhing on the bed in either pleasure or agony -

I blinked, shook my head, and pressed down deliberately on the screen, for the little “Save Image” dialog to appear.  I needed to see that again, sometime.

It was a lot sooner than I thought.

I had to excuse myself from my lecture.  I was shaking, and my breath was wobbly in my mouth.  Words had come out gummily, and I was worried that someone would be convinced I was having a stroke.  I’d send in a TA to finish off the lecture, not that anyone in the darkened hall was paying attention anyway.  

I went into the nearest bathroom, a single-room lavatory, and sat down hard on the toilet.  Instantly, my hands fished out my phone from my pocket and called up my Photos.

There, on the top of the digital heap, was the faraway glisten and shine of the Rubbered One.  I sighed in relief, in pleasure.

You would too, if you’d seen the picture.  Don’t judge me.

A whisper of triumph, of pleasure, of satisfaction, threaded through my mind as I opened up the picture.  There it was again.  That endlessness, that Void, that Nothing.  I craved it, and I didn’t know why, and I needed to know why, and to know why, I needed to keep looking.  I needed to keep looking to stop looking.

The Rubbered One had moved.  I remember its legs being in a different scissor - left on top of right, and now it was right, on top of left.  

This did not frighten me.  Perhaps it should have.  Pictures are not supposed to move.

But in my addled state of mind, I was blissfully unaware of the warning - or even, really, of the thought itself.  It slid right out of my head, as if on a glossy sheet of black ice.  I smiled, warmly, the shuddering ceasing.  

Then, surprising even myself, I unzipped my pants, and hauled out my cock.

Nothing would stop me.  I was a man determined.  I could even smell the rubber, could feel it lifting, wafting out of the screen of my phone.  That smell, that smell that I have no words for - something utterly inorganic, but somehow seductive for that very reason.  

I jerked off, right there, in the bathroom around the corner from the lecture hall.  I sat so still, my hand doing all the work, that the motion-sensing lights clicked off, leaving me alone, lit only by the powdery light of my phone.  There, in the enclosing, mummifying dark, I jerked myself off and came with a jagged, oblique moan that slid out of me, catching me by surprise.  

I may have even been in such a hurry to get inside that I didn’t even lock the bathroom door.  This suspicion came to me as I exited, stuffing myself shakily back into my khakis and my blazer.  You see, the door had opened seamlessly, with no hint of a lock dis-engaging.  

In fact, the momentary thrill of being caught as I masturbated to the Rubbered One flicked a little shiver of pleasure up my shaft anew, and I started shuddering so much that I had to grab the wall for fear of falling over.

All hail the Rubbered One!

There was no way I could go back to my lecture now.  I fled the campus for the safety of a local coffeehouse.

OTHER THINGS STARTED HAPPENING. Like how I thought I was having a stroke, before?  I found that, when I spoke, my mouth felt oddly compressed, as though I had lockjaw.  I went to the doctor, but when they told me to “open wide and say ahhh” I had no trouble - my jaw, seemingly re-oiled, complacently opened its full width, and I made the obligatory noise.  

Nothing wrong with my temporo-mandibular joint, advised the healthcare professional.  

And yet, as soon as I left the office, trying to speak to the Uber driver, to give him directions to my apartment, the same muffling, mysterious pressure returned, and I was only able to speak in tight, restrained tones.  

It didn’t occur to me until much, much later, that this was the voice of someone wearing a rubber gas mask, much like the one I am wearing now.

After awhile, I stopped talking altogether.  Of course, this did make it rather difficult to be a professor, and so that had to stop, too.

But what does a mute member of society do, when the one thing they have in life is a degree in English Literature?

Well, the first step is despondency, and denial.  I spent a month at least, just searching tumblr for more pictures of the Rubbered One.  Sure, there were plenty of pictures - the fetish for rubber has never been a subtle one - but none of them had that same irresistable sheen and shine, that fathomless Void, of the Rubbered One.  I’d exhausted most of the blogs.  I kept returning to the photograph I had saved to my cloud - and jerking off to it, again and again, like a desperate man.  Like a junkie.  If I went without, or even thought about going out, my hand developed such a tremor that I looked afflicted with tardive dyskinesia.

It got so bad, and the attacks so frequent, that I eventually just made the picture my home screen on my phone.  That way, if the tremors started, a quick pocket-dig and finger-flip would open up the likeness of the Rubbered One, and instantly, I would calm.

And (he?  It?) continued to move.  Perhaps, now that (he?  It?) knew that I had noticed the movement, it happened more and more, and faster, as though I were watching a video rather than a photograph.

Now, in addition to the slow, sensual scissoring of its legs, the Rubbered One was turning its head, away from the suckling devotion of its prey and turning to look at me, choosing me, directing its energy towards me.

I already had my rubber in the mail.  It took some doing, some difficult work, some self-measuring, but before long the order was placed and the shipment was made.  It was, of course, a link that I’d seen on tumblr, from one of the many rubber fetish sites.  Drone, and a series of numbers, I think.  One of the ones that’s talking about being absorbed into a Hivemind, a Central Core.  Nothing that ever really appealed to me.

The only thing I wished to absorb into was the Rubbered One.  

I ached, yearned, to be the man in that picture.  I was even jealous of him.  Who was he to show his devotion to such a being, such a beautiful entity?  Would not I be a better candidate for the first apostle position?  

But I knew, somehow, deep inside, that I wouldn’t even be considered until I had donned my own rubber.

Here’s where it gets a little weird, right - this is usually the point when in the story, the protagonist gets a little real, sizes himself up, maybe learns something about themselves.  Call me crazy, I know, but at this point, I just knew on the inside, so strongly, that I would never be worthy of the Rubbered One if I wasn’t Rubbered myself.

And so I waited, agonizingly, nearly tearing my hair out, for the package to inch itself across the ocean to my apartment mailbox.  I’d ordered the full suit, of course, the one that most closely approximated my photograph.  

I was utterly consumed, I was ablaze with obsession.  For the first time in my life, I felt an utterly overwhelming feeling - a lack.  I felt as though I lacked something that I had had for just a moment - one sweet moment, hovering, crystalline - and now that I no longer had it, I could never live a whole life again.

And everywhere I went - watching with a hawk’s eye the slow drainage of funds from my bank account - I smelled it.  Rubber.  There was even an auto repair shop, blockaded on one side with piles and piles of tires - I altered my daily neighborhood walk so that I could slowly amble by it, inhaling the thick, gray smell.  The more of it I could get on me, the more I wanted.  If there were a cologne that smelled of rubber, I’d wear it - hell, I’d bathe in it!  I twitched for it to be near me, on me, inside of me.

THE DAY MY NEW FACE CAME IN THE MAIL. I was wearing rubber gloves, made for chemical and construction workers, pressing them to my face, and inhaling as deeply as I could, when my phone made its little ringing noise to signify that a package was Delivered.

It could only be one thing.

It would only be a matter of moments before I could prostrate myself in front of the Rubbered One.

I hooked up my laptop to my flat-screen television, where the Rubbered One had also become my desktop wallpaper.  I opened up the picture file and let it sit, in the middle of my living room, the picture of Him.

Again, I fell far into His Nothingness, His All-Consuming Void - He turned on the bed, in the picture.  He silently got up.  He moved so subtly that it was impossible to tell if my hallucination was real, or some sort of digital magic.  He kicked, as if insulting, the pile of clothes left by the bedside.

The whole time, He kept his head, His black eyes, His shiny face, impassive and monstrous, but so aloof, so superior - His direct gaze - riveted on mine.

All hail the Rubbered One!

With barely a shimmer, He stepped out of the frame of my television and deliberately into my living room.  Tendrils of black squirmed out around the square of my screen, lashing to and fro idly, almost amusedly.

None of this seemed unreal, or even fantastical.  It was simply as it was - I was in a sort of ecstasy, like the kind the saints have, all-consumed, raptured.  The Rubbered One had chosen me!

Go, He told me without speaking.

I was on my feet, I was sprinting, I was dashing, my hands, still in their gloves, slippery on the door knob.  I was down the stairs before I realized I was barefoot, or that I was still wearing the heavy-duty black rubber gloves.  And there it was - my Rubber.  It was, of course, still in the box, it needed to be freed -

I cradled it in my arms.  I inhaled, as deeply as possible, again.  I could smell it, whining at the edges of my nostrils, begging to be freed.  I felt it, inside its cardboard prison, shifting and rustling.  Whispering.

I brought it upstairs with as much care as a mother would bring home her day-old newborn, but once inside, slamming the door behind me, I pillaged the drawers for the scissors, tearing into the box that would dare imprison my -

And there it was.  Still in a sad, folded-up heap, but it was mine.  

Now, said His voice in my head.  I didn’t have to turn around to know that He, the Rubbered One, was standing behind me - had moved silently from the living room to the kitchen.  I felt Him questing at the edges of my consciousness, starting the interview process.  

I felt a strange mix of craven desire and hot-blooded lust twist through me.  How I wished to possess the Rubbered One!  And how I wished to be possessed by Him!

I began to don my Rubber.  I felt it coo as it met my skin, as I replaced my own with its black sheen.  I saw my toes go, then the top of my foot - ankles, calves and shinbones, kneecaps and thighs - I watched as the black tide continued its creep up my body, as quickly as night follows dusk.  

The Rubbered One put His hands on me and I was nothing, I was everything.  I was part of a gigantic, moaning chorus of voices, I was absolute silence.

I saw Him reach out to me, his Nothing fingers and Nothing hands, his Void arms, his Void body.  I saw Him pull my self to His, and I felt us as we docked, somehow, for an imposssible moment, sharing the same physical space.

Then, with a sound that reminded me of a slurp and a sucking, closing noise, I was no more.

RUBBERBORN. I ceased to exist as I knew myself.  

I had a name.  

I wasn’t much of somebody, but I was somebody.  

Now, I was part of a growing, aching consciousness - I was part of a vast, growing hunger.  My thoughts were no longer my own.

All hail the Rubbered One!

I buzzed and chirred, excited beyond words.  I was ramrod hard, even in the rubber, which smoothed everything away, everything - all emotion, all thought, all nerve, all worry.  All features of my face - gone.  All features of my body - slurped up.  

I stood in front of the mirror.  All sign of the Rubbered One was vanished.  I could see, somehow, through my suit, though it had no eyeholes.

I saw through Rubber eyes.

I understood that I was Rubberborn.  That this was my destiny.  

The words “my” and “me” and “I” and “mine” were erased, scratched out heavily.  I was plural, now.

We were plural.

We stand in front of the mirror, staring at ourselves, our new body.  A mere morsel in the face of our hunger.  

Do you feel it?

As our eyes swivel slowly, tracking across the room, away from the mirror.  Looking into the camera lens backwards.  Do you feel the chilly fingers of our gaze landing on you as you read?  Playing along your bare shoulders, the pliable, delicate skin of your arms?

The Rubberborn understand and acknowledge that this body can be used for purposes that satisfy the hunger.  

They gave it the name rubbrfrk9.  The name you know, the author of these stories you read, curious in your own way to know how the rubber feels.  The same name you’ve seen watermarked on pics of us as you scroll by on your tumblr feed.  

Or maybe you already know - maybe you’ve already felt the ecstasy, struggling into your own shirt or pants.  Gloves or socks.  Mask or hood.  

Perhaps all of the above.  

Perhaps the voice of the Rubbered One is even now mingling with your own thoughts.  Sinuous, twisty, shiny and smooth.  Silken whispers, just an undercurrent of sibilant breath in the background, there.  If you strain, you can make it out.  Can hear our voices.  

We can sense you.

We know.

We are coming.

Say it with us now: All hail the Rubbered One!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Victory in Anticipation (Coldwave) - Chapter 3

Fic: Victory in Anticipation (Ao3 Link) - Chapter 3/3 Fandom: Flash, Legends of Tomorrow, Norse Mythology Pairing: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart Sequel to Victory in Waiting - read first

Summary: Leonard Snart is dead and his soul has gone to Valhalla, the home of heroes, and that’s the end of the story.

Well.

Not quite.

Warnings:  references to genocide, torture, animal cruelty; Norse mythology appropriate torture shown on-screen

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Len’s so cold he can feel it in his bones.

He’s lost feeling in his fingers long ago. He used every minute of the head start he got, walking the crooked ways in the shadows where even Heimdall has trouble seeing him, but cat-fur-cloak or no, he can’t hide forever and eventually the alarm was raised. The hounds caught his trail some while ago – he’s not sure how long, time doesn’t seem to work right here in the place between the worlds, the mountain stream that drizzles down the gigantic tree roots that Ed called Ygg-something – but they only found the clothing he took with him in the pack. He left it half in a frozen lake, the one with the strange moving shapes under the water. Dead shapes.

Draugr, if such a term can be applied to creatures that weren’t human to begin with.

Jötunheim is –

It’s a graveyard.

There had been some glorious years in Len’s youth when his father had been in jail and his mother still alive; she’d enrolled him in the Hebrew school down the way at the local Reform temple to keep him busy in the afternoons until she finished work. He’d picked up what smatterings of religion he knew about there.

They’d covered the Holocaust, the Shoah, because of course they did – they watched the movies, heard the stories from people’s families, saw the pictures. Every year on remembrance day.

That experience is the only reason he can look upon the ruins of a world murdered in whole and keep moving.

There are bones lying unburied in the fields. Buildings torn open like crabshells to get at the people hiding within. An entire capital city razed to the ground.

Some of the bones are very small.

Others are gigantic.

Not all look human.

It doesn’t matter. They were people, and they are dead, and from what Ed says, it was all to prevent some sort of stupid prophecy. Disgust doesn't even begin to describe Len's feelings on the subject, but he can't think about that now. He has to focus on surviving.

It’s very cold.

Ed says that the coldest place in the universe – the Norse universe, anyway; Len thinks the deepest, darkest parts of space spotted by the Hubble might beg to differ – is called Niflheim, and that before, it was confined into its own realm. He said there was a chance it might be bleeding over into Jötunheim.

Bleeding is the wrong word.

Flooding might be a better one.

The icy water is seeping in everywhere he looks, turning every low point into mud that he has to trudge through, a roiling mist creeping in at the edges of his vision that freezes everything it touches to the point of shattering, and it’s so cold. It’s so incredibly cold.

There’s ice on his fingertips.

Len tries not to look at them. He knows very well what the penalties of frostbite are, and his hands –

He gave up one hand for Mick before.

He’ll give up both to get back to him if he has to.

The apples Iðunn gave him are helping; he’s spacing out the bites. They warm him up inside and let him keep going, but even with the strict rationing he’s been imposing on himself, he’s running out.

The crooked paths are long and twisted, and he’s so very cold. He’s walking along the stream – it keeps trying to lose him, quick turns and dips through ditches, doubling back at odd points that definitely weren’t doing that when he was looking ahead earlier – and he has to keep his eyes firmly fixed to the ground lest he run into an ice-trap, which is like a pothole but with a Venus flytrap’s teeth made of sharp icicles.

He’s pretty sure he heard one of the hounds fall into one, pained whimpers and yips as the ice spread over the dog’s legs, inching up his body toward his heart in veins of ice.

The one-handed war-god hadn’t cared.

There’d been a loud crack of sound, and then there hadn’t been any more wounded noises.

Len wishes he had his gun with him. He’d show the bastard what it means to be cold.

There’s a cave in sight; the stream leads straight there, almost grudgingly, like it’s annoyed that Len’s gotten this far.

At this point, Len just hopes the cave is warmer than where he is now. He can’t hear the dogs anymore – though he’s not sure if that’s because they’re no longer following him or because his ears have frozen over. It’s taking everything he has to keep moving.

He swallows the last piece of apple he has and forces his legs to move, one after the other.

The cave remains stubbornly far away, or maybe he’s just moving slow.

His hands have stopped shaking. He remembers that that’s a bad sign, but he’s not sure he remembers why.

He’s almost there.

He’s almost –

The cave entrance is right in front of him.

Len reaches out with frozen fingers and manages to wrap his hand around the stone.

He pulls himself forward –

Hands shoot out from within the cave and pull him in.

Len gasps in negation, both from the idea of being caught and from the terrible warm emanating from those hands, the warmth of cave, the burning warmth, the –

“Hey, Lenny,” a familiar voice says.

Len squints up at a blur that is coalescing into an even more familiar face.

“Mick?” he asks, scarcely daring to believe it.

“Yeah,” Mick says gruffly, his hands like brands on Len’s frozen shoulders. “It’s me. I came to get you, but it looks like you got most of the way out all by yourself.”

He pauses.

“What’s with all the cat hair?”

Len laughs till his eyes fill with tears.

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Mick was kind enough to bring Len’s parka with him, which – once the cat fur is brushed off, and it comes off so easily now, when before no mud or wind or branches could dislodge it – he wraps around Len’s shoulders and then slides his arms around him, helping him warm up. They sit at the entrance of the cavern and Len leans in, tucks his head under Mick’s chin the way he hasn’t in years.

Len watches the ice drip off his fingers with fascination.

His fingers still work. He has no idea how he got that lucky.

Mick very considerately blows on his fingers as they defrost.

Len permits it until his brain defrosts enough to realize what Mick’s doing, at which point he flips Mick off.

“How’d you survive Jötunheim?” Mick asks, leaning his chin against Len’s head.

“Cat fur to hide me from sight; clothing to distract the hounds,” Len says. “Golden apples to keep me going.”

Mick nods.

They sit in silence for a few minutes.

There’s a thought wiggling in the back of Len’s mind. He stays still, stays quiet, and lets it come forward until it’s loud enough for him to hear.

Then he asks, “How’d you know about Jötunheim? How’d you get here, anyway? Where is here?”

Mick hesitates, which is unlike him.

“I think,” he says slowly. “I think – it’s time for you to meet my family. My parents.”

And he takes Len by the hand, urging him to stand up, and Mick leads him, hand-in-hand, deeper into the great cavern, past the stalactites and the rock.

Igneous rock.

Almost like those videos he’d seen as a kid, educational ones. The inside of a volcano.

And inside –

There’s a man.

“Fuck,” Len says, because that’s just obscene. The man’s half naked, clothing in tatters; he’s splayed out on his back, his arms bound down, his legs bound down, all on three enormous stones, and above him there is a tree with a frankly enormous snake with glistening fangs fully extended, thick gobs of poison dripping off of them in a steady stream, like a leaky faucet. A woman sits by his side, her legs splayed out in exhaustion, and she holds out a mostly-filled bowl with scarred hands to catch the poison before it hits the man’s face. His face is scarred, too, but even as Len watches the scars are sinking back into his skin, little by little. His hair is red, and his face –

His face has Mick’s facile expressions, his sharp chin. Mick’s broad jawline Len sees in the woman, his eyes, his neck.

“Fuck,” Len says again, with even more feeling this time.

These are Mick’s parents.

These are -

Thereupon they took three flat stones, and set them on edge and drilled a hole in each stone –

Maybe Len should have stayed to listen to the end of that story, but whatever. He’s even more glad now that he punched that skald right in his smirking face.

“Mother,” Mick says. “Father.”

The woman looks up, and a smile crosses her weary face. “My little wildfire,” she says. “You have grown large and strong at last.”

Mick’s hand squeezes tightly on Len’s to the point of pain.

The man turns his head and slits his eyes open. “My boy,” he croaks, lips dry, throat echoing with the sound of screams through years uncounted. “My little bright one.”

“Father,” Mick says again, and his voice shakes.

“Come and embrace me, little one,” his mother says. “I would give my soul to embrace you, but I cannot spare my hands.”

Mick doesn’t move at first, so Len untangles their fingers – it takes some effort – and gives Mick a little push in her direction.

Mick looks at Len, eyes wide and lost.

“Go on,” Len urges, then looks at the whole set up. Dropping his voice, he adds, “Ain’t there anything that can be done for him?”

Mick shakes his head mutely, but definitively, and then goes to his mother’s side, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around her.

“And when you are done,” Mick’s father says, amusement threading through his voice despite his circumstances, “you really must introduce us to your companion. Though he will have to forgive our poor hospitality; I fear that I am a bit tied up at the moment.”

Len really could get to like this guy. He’s a dick. He’s chained to a rock with a poisonous snake perched a meter above his head, and he’s still a dick. And still making puns. Now that’s devotion to the art.

“My name’s Len,” he offers. Despite the association with his father, he tends to prefer to introduce himself by his last name in an attempt to keep some emotional distance. But, well – this is Mick’s family, and so it’s his family too, he guesses.

Admittedly, this was not what he was imagining, insofar as he ever imagined it. Which he hadn't.

But to be fair, when was Mick ever what he imagined, what he could have imagined? He’s always been so much more.

Besides, not like Len can really cast any stones. He’s an einherjar, now, and one that escaped; that’s not exactly normal either.

Len shoves his hands into his pockets, fingering the feather he used as a token to escape. Yeah. Definitely not normal.

“Len is my bride,” Mick says, and Len flushes. He’s never going to get used to Mick saying that, and it’s been – decades, now. Mick says it with such pride, though, that Len’s given up all attempts at suggesting alternatives. At least Mick’s usually content with saying ‘partner’.

“You have found a bride!” Mick’s mother says, smile lighting up her face, and Mick’s father grins happily, too. “And are you happy?”

“No one could make me as happy as Len does,” Mick says, and means it, and Len flushes even more.

“He seems very fine indeed,” Mick’s father offers, mischief dancing in his eyes. “You must tell us all of his good qualities – how you met, of course, and how you won him – we must judge ourselves how fine a bride you have won, for only the best is good enough for our boy –”

“You must release me, my son,” Mick’s mother says quietly.

Mick’s father’s smile fades and his eyes go wide, white all around. “Not yet,” he protests. “Not yet; surely it is not so soon –”

“If it were longer, I would have waited, my love,” Mick’s mother says. Her eyes are sad. Mick releases her, and his eyes are wide, too, fear and sadness and frustrated anger all. “I cannot delay further.”

Len looks from one to the other to Mick in bemusement. He’s not sure what they’re talking about. He should have listened to that story till the end, even if it was about Mick and his brother being brutalized by uncaring gods. What is it that she has to do that makes them so scared? So sad?

The snake shifts its great, shining coils, tensing like a spring about to pop, its dead-looking eyes glimmering in anticipation.

And then the woman pulls away the bowl, fuck, why?

The poison, without any barrier, falls down straight onto the guy’s face, and he screams – his flesh sizzles – the poison eats away at him like acid – his back arches in inhuman contortion – the ground shakes –

The woman walks as quickly as she can manage towards the cliff, going to pour away the poison; she has to walk, not run, because she’ll spill it otherwise, because it is acid, the poison, that’s why her fingers are so scarred –

Mick gives a cry of pain, like he, too, is being burned alive by acid poison just watching this happen to his father, and Len always knew that Mick loved his father, not like Len and his own, and then Mick – because Mick’s a self-sacrificing idiot, and Len’s always known that too – Mick sticks his own hands between the snake and his father.

And then Mick screams.

He screams and he screams and he screams, but he keeps his hands cupped together, trying to catch as much of the poison as he can even as it drips down to his father's face.

He screams.

No.

No.

Len did not come all this way, he did not survive the endless tedium of Valhalla, befriend the greatest and least of the creatures of the lands of the gods, did not capture Ratatoskr and learn his secrets, did not steal a feather from Muninn and evade the hounds of Tyr, walk the crooked paths and survive the dead wasteland of Jötunheim, only to find Mick and then watch him suffer.

Len dashes forward, desperate to find some way to help, something, anything to make it stop – it’s just chains, holding him down, surely, and Len knows chains, there must be some key, some lock, some way – he reaches for his pockets, his lockpicks, but he doesn’t have any lockpicks, they were all lost on his way to Valhalla and there weren’t any others there, but he does have Muninn’s feather, which tapers to a long point at the end, maybe he can use that –

His fingers close over the feather, and suddenly he sees it, the knot at the high left corner, the lock that binds the chains together.

Len uses the feather and his nail in combination, desperately prying the lock open, and it’s only years of experience being cool in the face of all provocation, years of practicing on every type of lock in existence no matter how loud or noisy, no matter if the police are shooting at him or Mick’s lit the whole place on fire again, that lets him keep his focus now, with Mick screaming and Mick’s father screaming, too, as the poison burns through Mick’s hands and falls upon his face, Mick’s mother sobbing as she hurries to the edge –

Len pops the lock.

He grabs Mick’s father and pulls him away from the stones, from the snake, throws the two of them into Mick to get them away, away from the snake and the rocks and everything - and suddenly, abruptly, everything is dead quiet.

The screams stop, the sobs stop, the hissing stop, even the damnable plop-plop-plop of the snake’s venom stops.

“What have you done?” Mick’s father asks blankly. His face is healing even as Len watches, much faster than before, zipping back up like a Hollywood special effect. Even Mick’s hands are healing impossible-fast, bubbling flesh calming, turning back from blistered red to his regular ruddy tone.

It’s only after a few moments of everybody staring at him – all of them, Mick and his mother and his father and even the snake are all staring at him – that Len realizes that it wasn’t a rhetorical question.

“I…got you away from the snake?” he says hesitantly. He’s not sure why they’re all gaping at him.

“'None who wish to can release him',” Mick’s father quotes. “How did you get around that? No one who wants to let me out of my bindings can do so; that’s the spell and the curse that binds me.”

“Well, I didn’t,” Len says, blinking. “Not really. I mean. It wasn’t really my primary objective or anything.”

“What?”

“I didn’t particularly care one way or another about releasing you,” Len clarifies. “No offense, you seem cool and all, but I met you, like, five minutes ago and yes, your situation sucked and all, but I’m pretty used to ignoring terrible things.”

“Then what did you want?” Mick’s father demands.

“I wanted Mick to get his hands out from under that stupid snake,” Len says blankly. Isn’t it obvious? “And he wouldn’t do that if you were still there.”

They stare.

“It was hurting him,” Len emphasizes.

They all stare at him a few seconds longer, and then Mick’s father starts to laugh, high and clear and incredibly amused. “Oh, my son,” he laughs, bending over at the waist. “My son, my son! What a bride you have brought before us!”

“Do you know what you just did?” Mick asks Len, his eyes still wide with shock.

“Uh,” Len says. He’s getting the sinking feeling that more just happened than he thinks what he did really warrants.

“Do you know what happens when he is released?” Mick’s voice actually cracks in the middle of that sentence. He’s clearly under a lot of stress; Len has no idea why. It’s not like Mick doesn’t know about Len’s skill at picking locks.

“I may have left before hearing the end of that story,” Len confesses.

Mick’s father howls with laughter.

“Do you even know what Ragnarök is?” Mick shrieks. It's very unlike him.

“No one ever said!” Len says defensively. “All the other einherjar wouldn’t talk about it! And it’s not like I ever looked up Norse myths before, okay? Other than, like, that one Xena episode…technically it was a Hercules episode, but it came on at the same time as the regular Xena episode…and I only saw half of that, too…”

Mick puts his head into his hands that way he always does when Len does something beyond belief. Mick’s mother wraps her arms around her son and hides her smile in his shoulder.

“What gold is this,” Mick’s father says, utterly delighted. “I would not change it for the world; this is the finest joke I have ever heard.”

“Lenny,” Mick says, his voice slightly muffled by his fingers. “Ragnarök is the end of the world.”

“What,” Len says.

“The sun turns black, earth sinks in the sea; the hot stars down from heaven are whirled; fierce grows the steam and the life-feeding flame, till fire leaps high about heaven itself,” Mick’s mother says, her voice lyrical. “Now Garm howls loud before Gnipahellir; the fetters will burst, and the wolf run free; much do I know, and more can see, of the fate of the gods…you didn’t know?”

Len opens his mouth, then closes it again when nothing seems to come out.

After a few seconds, he finds his voice. “So, uh,” he says. “Most awkward meet the parents ever, or most awkward meet the parents ever, am I right?”

And Loki’s laughter fills the room.