#my brain tells me that this could easily be

[mocha000]

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

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

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

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

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

Before I Leave You (Pt. 80)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

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

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

W/c: 12.7k

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

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

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

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

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

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

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

"Even the pup?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He’s like still a beta? Right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Your dick was perfect before though-"

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

"What? I'm just saying-"

“Don’t look at it!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Namjoon-” Jin scolds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No Koo" Jungkook jerks against his hold.

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

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

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

“No. No Jk- pup”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have a sinking suspicion it might be Hobi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost but not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you sit yourself back down.

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

 “Fuck, omega's knot fucking is-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The others fall upon you.

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

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

“Did good alpha?” You ask Namjoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love you,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least until you wake up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honey, cake, and cream.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jin asked me not to intervene.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~-~

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

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

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

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

Really, Jungkook's sort of in heaven.

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

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

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

Cute aggression? It must be cute aggression.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook bites your cheek. Hmm, squishy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink, dazed, look up at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Possessive.

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

He begins to move lower.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You taste Milky.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it's enough.

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

Tae blinks like she can't really believe it.

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

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

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

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

"Messy puppy."

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

To taste.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes"

"Can you handle this without going into rut?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Above you, Yoongi curses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Really hyung, your mate, fuck-"

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

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

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

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

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

"No Jiminie- bad!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon looks at you, then blushes and looks away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You obey her with a broken whimper.

~-~

notes:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[michanvalentine]

I don’t want to classify anything—these situations all suck equally. But I’ve been thinking about the differences inherent in forms of abuse. I’m using the girls as a comparison to talk about Astarion, though all the companions in BG3 carry their fair share of trauma. Karlach was sold and had her heart ripped out against her will, replaced with an infernal machine, for the sole purpose of becoming a soldier and serving in a war that wasn’t hers. Lae’Zel grew up in a harsh, unforgiving society where weakness wasn’t tolerated. She was forged and sharpened like a blade to become an infallible, ruthless assassin in service to Vlaakith. The same can be said for Shadowheart, as if they were two sides of the same coin. Every punishment, every lesson, no matter how terrible, was delivered with the aim of training these "soldiers," dedicating their entire being to a cause. A cause they believed in—Karlach being the exception. Regardless, everything was for a specific purpose, almost regulated. Predictable, logical, consequential. Their results were recognized and approved (especially within the ranks of Shadowheart and Lae’Zel), perhaps even rewarded.

In my opinion, this is different from the abuse Astarion endured. Let me explain. Some of Cazador’s punishments were undoubtedly intended to instill terror and obedience in his vampire spawn, discouraging any form of defiance and shaping them into exactly what he wanted—tools for his own purposes (known only to him). Up to this point, the mechanics are the same as those for the girls. But Cazador is also a sadist, and this is where the dynamic changes, taking on an unpredictable and utterly senseless turn, especially for the one suffering it. It’s about gratuitous cruelty. Pain inflicted and endured without reason—just because. Because he feels like it. Because it amuses him. Because he can. And for the one subjected to this treatment, the mind can’t find a logical explanation to cling to. It shatters. It wanders in search of meaning that doesn’t exist, because the suffering isn’t due to a cause or a transgression—it’s purely a matter of whim.

You can’t tell yourself, I was given a mechanical heart to make me stronger in combat. You can’t say, I killed my training partner to prove to my people that I was the strongest (and be celebrated for it). Or, I tortured those people because I needed to develop these skills to become a better spy. These are horrific motivations, of course, but they’re still explanations that provide meaning. The brain needs meaning—it needs it to avoid breaking apart. It needs to understand, to form connections, to explain things. And if no reason exists, it creates one. And it’s easy to imagine that in a situation like Astarion’s as a vampire spawn, he might have found the meaning of his suffering in himself. He became the cause. I’m being punished because I wasn’t good enough, because I said something wrong, because I’m worthless, because I don’t deserve anything better, because I’m flawed and broken.

Astarion knows that Cazador is a sadistic bastard and that there’s no sense or purpose behind what he does to him. But this is the insidious work the brain does—it’s not rational, it’s not voluntary. Finding meaning is necessary, because otherwise, everything would be chaos, and that would be even more terrifying to conceive.

There’s also the unpredictability that plays a crucial role. Unlike Lae’Zel and Shadowheart, who are punished for some kind of transgression or to learn a lesson—and therefore know when to expect consequences based on their actions—Astarion could just as easily be punished for no reason at all. Simply because his master feels like it. One moment, Cazador is calm; the next, he isn’t. For no apparent reason (and there doesn’t even need to be a pretext—the vampire lord can do whatever he wants with his spawn. He doesn’t have to explain himself, right? They’re slaves with no human rights, unlike Lae’Zel and Shadowheart, who live in a structured and orderly—albeit hierarchical—context. Karlach, in this case, is closer to Astarion in concept).

As a result, the stress is overwhelming. There’s never a moment of peace or respite. You can never know when there will be consequences or for what reason. Everything is too undefined, too volatile, and this keeps Astarion constantly on edge. After all, the horror is inevitable—it will happen sooner or later because you’ll never be good enough, useful enough, quiet enough, etc. It’s exhausting—for the body, the mind, and the spirit. It also instills a fear that is no longer connected to or proportionate to a real, tangible stimulus. It becomes a generalized, ever-present fear and anxiety.

Anyway, just a small reflection on these differences because I need to ramble about things regardless of whether they make sense. By now, you know I write almost everything that crosses my mind, even though I should probably filter it better sometimes…

And yes, I know the girls’ situations are more complex than this. Here, I haven’t addressed many aspects that characterize their experiences and responses to them (like the frightening memory gaps Shadowheart struggles with). I just used a few points to talk about Astarion and what I believe is a unique aspect of his specific type of abuse. I hope I managed to get my point across.

[itsrainingpandas]

Ever since @vonspe released the NPC version of her OC Scipio, I have had a brain worm with him and my dummy gremlin Crow!Rook. So I wrote a thing!

Scipio belongs to Vonspe , I just admire her art and her drawings have given me joy in these here trying times. Hopefully I can return the favor in a small way. ❤️

Pick Your Poison

She was silent, creeping up on him, crouched with a dagger in her hand. He had his back to her and was none the wiser to the danger. Closer, closer, and then…with a fierce grin, Rook lunged for him.

She landed with the hilt of her blade at the small of his back, snickering. “Oh, Scipio,” she tsked, “You’ve gotten soft! You really should pay attention. You're dead now!”

A chuckle rumbled through him as he turned to peer over his shoulder, looking thoroughly unsurprised. “Am I?” 

Rook looked down. Scipio had shifted his arm behind his back in the split second before she had lunged, gripping a needle in his gloved hand. It was pressed against her leathers, and were this a serious scenario, it could slide past her armor and fill her with poison before she got a good stab in. 

Upon seeing this, Rook burst out laughing. “Oh, no! I’m dead!” She stepped back and resheathed her mageknife, delighted to be bested at her own game. “Oh, you got me. This is so tragic. You'll have to break the news to my many admirers.”

Scipio smirked, pleased with himself even before he said, “I'll be sure to let them both know.”

Rook made a face and moved as though she were going to punch his kidneys. He simply swayed out of her way, unperturbed, before regarding her with amusement. Her childish petulance melted as she grinned, looking back and forth between his eyes. They were striking in their color difference- one so dark it was almost black, one staggeringly blue. He seemed to give in to the fondness, poking at her playfully. “And what brings our Rook to this level of the Diamond today?” 

Rook leaned back against the counter that served as a place to get both drinks and poisons, and hopefully never the wrong one of the two. “I'm looking for a specific poison. Or– a friend of mine is looking for it. A poison.”

Scipio’s eyebrow arched in interest. “Anything fun?”

“No. It's the opposite of fun. Academic things.” Rook’s nose crinkled in distaste. She was never a good student, so she couldn't imagine how or why someone could keep researching past the required schooling. Scipio chuckled as if he could see her thoughts; he had known her as a fledgling, so he wouldn't be surprised by her disdain.

“And this poison,” he continued, rolling up his sleeves and tightening the ribbon keeping his long, dark hair back, “Viago didn't want to do it?”

“Between you and me, he's better at antidotes. Mixing poisons is more your specialty.” Her eyes narrowed in an attempt to look dangerous that was not enough to offset her small stature and full head of bright red curls. “But if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it and put one of your snakes in your boot.” 

“I’m beginning to think you just came here to threaten me.” 

“Me? Never,” Rook hoisted herself up to sit on the counter, pretending not to notice Scipio’s vaguely disapproving look. She spread her arms wide. “Come on, I wanted to see you! I missed you! Didn't you miss me, Tío?” 

He watched her a moment, and she noticed how tired he looked. Though, to be fair, Scipio always looked tired. After careful consideration, he shook his head and chuckled. “Oh, I suppose it is fun to hear Viago yelling again.” Rook laughed, the opposite of his laugh, loud and attention-drawing. 

"Now," Scipio began placing dubiously unmarked vials on the counter, “what poison is your friend looking for?”

Rook blinked as though she had never thought to ask. “I dunno.” She leaned back on the counter to the point where she could have easily rolled backwards off of it and landed on her head. She scanned the room, but it wasn't hard to spot the odd one out in the sea of Crows.  Rook gave a grand, sweeping wave over her head. “Emmrich! Over here!”

The professor appeared moments later, appearing harried by his standards and remarkably put together by anyone else’s. “Apologies, Rook,” he said sweetly, politely, “Manfred is quite fascinated by this place, so I was keeping an eye on him. I had to stop him from chasing one of the crows around…” he gestured to the birds roosted in the ceiling, who indeed seemed to be watching with some perturbation. Rook snickered at the mental picture before composing herself enough for introductions.

She held a hand out towards Emmrich in presentation. “Scipio, this is Professor Emmrich Volkarin. Emmrich,” Rook turned enough to loop an arm around Scipio’s neck, “this is my Tío Scipio.”

Emmrich smiled, brushing a hand back to smooth his hair which was hardly out of place. “Apologies, again. It's a pleasure to meet you, ah…” his eyes darted towards Rook, unsure, “I'm sorry, could you repeat…?”

“Scipio,��� the man finished, bowing slightly at the waist. “A pleasure, professore.” 

Rook hopped down from the counter. “What, he can't call you ‘Tío’?”

Scipio kept his eyes on Emmrich as he dropped his hand on top of Rook’s head. “You are on babysitting duty today, I see?”

She grumbled and pushed his arm away. Emmrich pressed a crooked finger to his mouth in an attempt to disguise an amused smile that did not help her mood. “I don't need babysitting!” Rook snapped. “You know, I make a lot of the decisions for our group.”

“That is true,” Emmrich offered amicably, his gaze shifting the significant height difference between the two Crows. 

“Hmmm,” Scipio considered the information before asking Rook, “So why do you come back here and act like a fledgling?”

Emmrich let out a sound of surprise before leaning on the counter, eyes bright with excitement. “I have noticed that she tends to regress when we come to Treviso! It's very interesting,” he pressed his thumb to his bottom lip, “I wonder if it's a response to childhood stressors. Perhaps–” 

“Emmrich!” Rook whined, betrayed. She would have stomped her foot if the idea of “regression” hadn't taken hold on her mind. But the professor received the complaint and stopped his analysis, mumbling apologies while at least having the decency to look sheepish. 

Scipio, however, had no such scruples. He tilted his chin down, conspiring.“If you do take notes, I’d be happy to review them. I always appreciate new material.”

Emmrich chuckled warmly, much too charmed for Rook’s taste. She groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I regret introducing you two,” she pouted. "Immediately regret it.”

They were now ignoring her completely, it seemed, exclusively focused on each other. “So, professore,” Scipio smiled faintly, “what poison are you looking for?”

“Ah, yes,” he startled as though he had forgotten why he had come, “I was hoping for concentrated magebane. You see, I want to test its effect on bone–”

“It won't corrode it, if that's what you're hoping for.”

“No!” Emmrich looked appalled by the very idea. “No, it was a thought I had. You see, if it could mark the deceased, then it might deter any necromancers who wander too far afield. Necromancy is a distinguished art, of course, but some do not wish to worry about their deceased. If those bodies could marked as unusable–” 

Rook sighed noisily. “All right, well, if you don't need me…” 

Emmrich didn't even pause, continuing to excitedly explain his theories to a thoughtfully listening Scipio. That was her answer, she supposed. 

Rook wandered around until she found Manfred, who was still peering up at the roosting crows in fascination. She wrapped an arm around the boney cut of his shoulders with a sigh. “I think I accidentally set your dad up on a date,” she murmured to the skeleton. Manfred let out a cheerful, gurgling hiss, though she suspected he had no idea what she was going on about. Well, nothing to do about it. Might as well take advantage of having lost her “babysitter.”

“All right, Manfred,” Rook clapped her hands together, “I'll teach you about the birds up there. But first: we’re going to work on you saying the word ‘shit.’”

Manfred squealed cheerfully once more. Just a fun little surprise for Emmrich later as revenge for the regression idea that would do nothing but prove his point.  

[pixiexdusts-world]

More than just friends

Kang Dae-ho x bestie!reader

I could tell something was up with Dae-ho the moment I walked into his apartment. Normally, he’d greet me with some sarcastic comment or a smug grin, but tonight he just stood there, looking like a kid caught stealing candy. For someone who had survived life-or-death games, you’d think he’d handle casual conversation better.

“You okay, Dae-ho?” I teased, tossing my bag onto the couch. “You look like you’ve just lost a game of marbles.”

He gave me this awkward half-smile, the kind that said he was trying too hard to act normal. It was weird seeing him like this—he’s usually so self-assured. It made me pause, my teasing fading into concern.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” I asked, sitting down and patting the spot next to me.

He hesitated before sitting down, rubbing the back of his neck like he was gearing up for something. “Can we talk?”

Now I was really curious. “Of course. What is it?”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just stared at the floor, his jaw tight like he was trying to figure out how to put something into words. I waited, giving him the space he needed. That’s how we worked—he didn’t open up easily, but he always came around eventually.

Finally, he looked up at me. “You’ve always been there for me. Through everything. And I… I don’t think I’ve ever said it properly, but you mean a lot to me.”

I felt my heart skip. This wasn’t like him at all.

“I care about you,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “Not just as a friend. As… more than that. I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I didn’t know how to say it, but—would you go on a date with me?”

For a second, I just stared at him. It was like my brain short-circuited. I had spent so long being his best friend, his safe space, that I’d never let myself imagine something more. But now that he was saying it, it all made sense—why my heart always felt lighter when I was around him, why I worried about him even when I didn’t need to.

Finally, I smiled, trying to hide the fact that my face was probably burning. “Dae-ho, I thought you’d never ask.”

The relief on his face was so obvious it made me laugh. He leaned back, letting out a breath like he’d just survived another challenge.

“Really? So, all this time you’ve just been waiting for me to figure it out?” he asked, his smirk creeping back in.

I rolled my eyes, nudging him. “You’re smart, but you’re clueless when it comes to this kind of thing.”

He laughed, and for the first time in a while, it felt like all the weight he carried was gone. “I’ll make it up to you. Dinner tomorrow? Somewhere nice.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You’d better. Impress me, Kang Dae-ho.”

He grinned, and in that moment, I realized something: we’d been through so much together, and now, we were finally stepping into something new. Something good. Something ours.

[ceratedfish24]

My little Snowbugs headcanon is that Scott is all good with innuendos and joke flirting but the moment someone compliments him unironically his brain starts doing dial up noises

Which is unfortunate for him because Tango will not stfu about every single little thing he likes about Scott meaning about 80% of the time his thoughts are incoherent

Yes!!!!! Scott getting flustered about genuine compliments is one of my favorite tropes. Someone please teach this man some self worth. Tell him he’s pretty and thoughtful and so so so very talented. After Scott’s minor breakdown after Skizz’s affirmation, Scott getting genuine compliments is so important to me.

I love the idea of Tango not catching on to how flustered Scott got the first few times he genuinely compliments Scott, but, after he realizes how red Scott gets about being complimented, he just starts speaking all of his complimentary thoughts aloud. Whenever he thinks of one, he doesn’t hold them back anymore. It doesn’t matter if he just said it an hour ago. He’s thinking about it again, and Scott needs to know. He needs Scott to know.

He loves the color Scott just painted his nails, and Scott’s hair looks so cute after his haircut.

Has anyone ever told Scott that his eyes are so pretty and blue that they’re almost iridescent?

Does Scott know how thoughtful Tango finds him to be?

Does Tango comment often enough on how he loves hearing Scott sing unabashedly, even though Scott doesn’t particularly care for his own singing voice as opposed to the fun he has when singing?

Tango is always so amazed by Scott’s cooking and baking.

Tango loves the shape of Scott’s nose.

Scott should know that Tango’s never met someone so graceful.

Scott is amongst the most considerate people Tango has ever met, and Tango needs Scott to know it.

Scott is a good friend, a fantastic neighbor, a kind stranger, a considerate coworker, and an incredible boyfriend. Tango needs to give him all of the credit that he deserves all of the time, and Scott absolutely cannot handle it. Everyone is shocked at how well Tango has Scott wrapped around his pinky, how easily Tango can fluster Scott. Tango always ends up getting the last word in when they’re flirting, now. Scott’s reputation as the Unbothered Flirt TM is in shambles.

In return, I think, Scott would be really assertive when complimenting Tango. A lot of people talk about how if Tango’s convinced that he’s bad at something, there’s no convincing him otherwise. I think Scott could do it. I think Scott could cross his arms and say “please don’t talk like that about my boyfriend. That’s a very mean thing to say about the light of my life.” and Tango would have no response to it. It gets to the point where Tango stops saying “I’m so awful at [task]” and starts saying “I want to figure out how to improve at [task]”. Skizz sends Scott a basket of goodies with a thank you note upon noticing the change in Tango’s confidence.

I love when a couple’s favorite activity is to build each other up.🩵 Thank you for the ask!!

[wchswift]

hii hii HEHEHEH this is so brain rot but i need a story where logan is a big time cuddler (i know he gives the best hug ever 😭) maybe he keeps that only to reader!!

ଓ IN HIS ARMS

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: logan is a big time cuddler, but he saves all his tender, comforting affection just for you.

word count: 1.3k

content: fluff, established relationship, implied sex, post-sex cuddles.

a/n: hiii, sorry it took me so long to write it 😭 I may have changed a little from what you asked, but I hope you like it <3

── english isn't my first language :)

Everyone around the mansion was well aware of Logan's grumpy reputation. He was the gruff one, all hard edges, and sharp looks, the not-friendly and indifferent expression to keep people not so close. To most, he's the Wolverine—reserved, intimidating, and always prefers little interaction. But of course, he had his exceptions, like you. You knew better.

Because behind closed doors, Logan was yours, and he’s the most touch-hungry man you've ever met. You know the man beneath the scowl who would hold you close until the rest of the world disappeared if he could. Deep down, he was the type who wouldn’t readily admit it, but he absolutely adored cuddling.

No one would believe it if you told them, but Logan is the best cuddler in the world. There’s something about the way he wraps his arms around you, how his broad chest and strong shoulders make you feel so small and completely safe. It’s like being surrounded by pure strength, and yet it’s soft, too—his touch careful, deliberate, filled with a tenderness that only you get to see. God this man knew how to hug.

Right now, his arms are wrapped around you as you settle against his chest, his warmth seeping into you like the coziest blanket. The room is quiet except for the soft hum of life outside and the sound of his steady breathing. Nights like this—peaceful, undisturbed—are your favorite.

You let out a contented sigh, your head resting against the solid strength of his chest. His heartbeat thumps steadily beneath your ear, soothing and grounding in a way only Logan can manage.

“You comfy, princess?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, snuggling closer.

Logan’s hand drifts lazily up and down your back, tracing slow, soothing circles. He’s always touching you like this, his hands finding you almost instinctively, whether it’s to ground himself or to comfort you. Maybe it’s both.

“You’ve got the best hugs,” you murmur, your voice muffled against his chest.

Logan chuckles softly, the sound a deep, rumbling vibration against your cheek. “Yeah? Don’t tell anyone. Gotta keep my image intact.”

You laugh lightly, shifting to look up at him. His lips quirked in a rare smile, the kind only you ever see. Before you can say anything else, he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering there like he’s savoring the moment.

Logan doesn’t say it, but you know this side of him—the warmth, the tenderness, the way he holds you like you’re the most important thing in the world—is something he reserves only for you. Around the others, he’s all scowls and clipped words, but in private, he’s the kind of man who craves touch like it’s air.

He didn’t always show it, though. Logan wasn’t the kind of man to give away pieces of himself so easily. It took a while to get that part of him. You vividly remember the first time he hugged you like this, back when he still had walls up, back when you weren’t sure what you meant to him.

You’d been having a rough day—a hard mission that made you doubt yourself, leaving you shaken and overwhelmed. You tried to hide it from everyone, retreating to the quiet safety of your room. But Logan noticed. He always noticed.

Without a word, he appeared in your doorway, his expression softer than usual but still guarded.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and gravelly.

At first, you nodded, trying to brush it off, but when he stepped closer and gently touched your arm, the dam broke. You let out a shaky breath, your eyes stinging, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him.

For a second, you thought he’d pull away—this was Logan, after all. But instead, his arms came around you, steady and sure, pulling you against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That was the first time you felt the magic of the Wolverine hug. His hold was strong but not overwhelming like he was shielding you from everything bad in the world. His hand ran soothingly up and down your back, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “I’ve got you.”

And he did. From that moment on, you realized that Logan wasn’t just a good hugger—he was the best. There was something about the way he held you like he could take all your worries and crush them with his strength. He didn’t need to say much; his arms said it all.

Now, it’s second nature. He doesn’t wait for an excuse to hold you—he pulls you into his lap while you’re reading, tangles himself around you when you’re in bed, and presses his face into your hair after a long day. His hands are always on you, whether it’s a comforting palm against your back, his fingers laced with yours, or his arm slung around your waist like he needs to keep you close. And you dare to say he loves it more than you.

After the sex, he’s especially clingy—not that you mind. Pulling you into his arms as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear, he will wrap himself around you completely. His lips leave lazy, soft, lingering open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder, hair, collarbone, cheek—anywhere he can reach. Each one feels like a promise, a reminder that you’re his. He let his hands roam lazily, tracing patterns on your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“You feel so damn good, princess” he’ll whisper, his voice rough but tender. And the way he holds you in those moments like he never wants to let go, makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe.

And the way he looks at you in those moments? It’s enough to make your heart stop. His usual sharp, guarded gaze softens, filled with a quiet devotion he doesn’t show to anyone else.

Around the others, he’s all grumbles and scowls, pretending he’s not the same man who just kissed you senselessly an hour ago. He keeps his distance—at least, as much as he can.

Even in public, though, there are cracks in his armor. His hand will brush yours under the table or he’ll rest his palm on your thigh. Sometimes, when he thinks no one’s paying attention, you’ll catch him watching you with an intensity that makes your heart race.

The others might tease him for being overprotective, for always keeping an eye on you, but they don’t see the real Logan. They don’t see how he softens when he holds you or how he presses his forehead against yours like you’re the thing that saved him.

“Love you,” he murmurs now, his lips brushing against your hair. His voice is quiet like he’s not ready to say it too loudly, but the words hit you like a warm rush all the same.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, those dark, stormy eyes soft in the dim light. “Love you too,” you whisper, brushing a kiss against his jaw before settling back into his arms.

Logan presses another kiss to the top of your head, his hand slipping under the blanket to pull you closer. He holds you like you’re his anchor, his steady presence in a chaotic world.

And as you drift off in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and strength, the rest of the world feels small and far away—because with Logan, you’re home.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[more-sonorous]

safer than you thought (vaguely javey)

recent discussions about trans canon era davey have put my fingers to the keys, so have this little hurt/comfort piece of what might potentially be a larger work

tw/ accidental outing (handled very well), and also davey's inner monologue isn't the kindest to himself

.....

Full sprinting across the Brooklyn bridge was not on David’s bucket list when he’d gotten dressed that morning, and he mentally cursed himself for that as his anxious feet stumbled along behind Racetrack. David felt like a horse that’d just learned how to gallop, bolting along behind a stallion in its prime. Racer was fast and graceful as he ran, one hand wrapped around David’s wrist in a vice grip that was almost bruising. Each footfall was more certain than the last and Racer's long legs were a blur of motion, his trousers (an old pair of Jack’s) hanging well above his ankles, patchwork socks still slightly on display. The scuffed heels of his boots were all David could focus on as he prayed for the strength to continue this sprint without stumbling, hearing the pounding footsteps of the menacing boys fast on their tail.

Soon David could feel his own blood pumping through his face, hot and heavy, incessantly noisy whooshing coursing through his ears. He didn’t know up from down or left from right as he devolved into helpless anxiety, letting Racer tug him along and praying they’d lost their pursuers at some point.

The moment they crossed the bridge into Manhattan territory, Race stopped dead in his tracks and David stumbled forward, hands on his knees. This was decidedly not good. His bindings were practically digging into his skin, the tightly wound bandages constricting his chest from properly expanding. Sweat beaded on his brow as he gasped feebly for air, clutching the fabric of his trousers in a wild panic.

“Yeah, fuck you!” Racer shouted incoherently, waving his fists despite the lingering pubescent cracks in his voice and the fact that they’d lost their pursuers a quarter of a mile ago. “Fuck alla you! When I tell Spot about this, she’s gonna kill your sorry asses! She’s gonna skin you and turn you into goddamn leather wallets! You better turn around and run! Go fuck yourselves!”

Maybe David would have laughed if he had the breath to do so, but the August sun was beating down hard on his back and the extreme heat in his face and ears wasn’t doing him any favors when it came to the breathing department. His clothes seemed to cling to him with sweat and every time he tried to breathe, he felt like he only got halfway before his lungs stopped expanding, trapped in the vice grip of his bandages. 

“That’ll fuckin’ teach them to try an’ mug me at my own sellin’ spot.” Race griped, sharply turning his head to spit at the bridge disdainfully. Relaxed and easy as if he hadn’t just ran a mile at full speed, he turned on his heel and sauntered over to David with a bark of a laugh. “Geez, Jacobs, I didn’t figure you was so shitty at runnin’. C’mon, pick yourself up ‘n we’ll go back to the lodgings and getcha a nice glass of lukewarm water.”

David really did want to pick himself up, but the trouble was that he couldn’t exactly breathe. Black spots were starting to dot his vision. Distantly, he knew that panicking wouldn’t do him any good, but he could easily recognize his own hyperventilation. Short, shallow breaths weren’t drawing any air in and suddenly his clothes were suffocating, and a very loud part of his brain was convincing him that he was going to die. Maybe he was, because he surely couldn’t round a corner and take his binder off in front of Race. Then all of the newsboys would find out he'd been lying to them and he’d lose all of his friends only months after making them, and he’d be lonely and strange and outcast all over again, and his life would be miserable all because he couldn’t catch his goddamn breath after running over the Brooklyn bridge. Now he was really and truly spiraling, clutching at his chest and gagging around his own useless gasping.

Immediately, his blonde companion’s demeanor changed. “Shit. Oh, shit. Shit, something’s wrong, huh? Davey, buddy, you okay?”

Race’s concerned expression swam into view as he crouched in front of David, cupping his sweaty face in both rough hands. Racetrack didn’t cringe away even as he felt the searing heat and saw how red David surely was. Instead he only looked even more concerned, his street-smart brain noticing the signs of asphyxiation with remarkable ease.

“Yeah, you need’ta sit.” He grumbled, and David was flickering in and out of sensibility as Race gripped him by the arm and tugged him into a slim alleyway between two buildings, somehow both forcible and gentle as he pushed David to sit. It was only getting worse. David’s mind was starting to swim and begging him to breathe, but a childish part of him was screaming with panic and sending hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Distantly, he knew that his bandages weren’t really that tight. All of this was mental, but he’d started panicking and now he couldn’t stop. The slight inconvenience of tight binding had transformed into a murder weapon in his delirious mind. He was going to die. He was going to suffocate right here in an alleyway and it was all because he’d tied his bandages too tight this morning. Seventeen years ending in such a stupid way made him cry harder, which expelled more of his dwindling air and sent all attempts at rational thought spiraling out of his brain.

Black spots grew darker and the image of Racetrack warbled like bathwater being kicked by an overeager child. “Let’s getcha out of this tie, yeah? Can’t be doin’ you any favors.”

David scarcely registered the lithe fingers tugging at the tie done loosely round his neck, and he was barely an inch away from unconsciousness as nimble hands undid the buttons of his waistcoat with remarkable speed. Maybe, if David had been alert, he would’ve seen the slight panic on his friend’s face as he pushed open David’s shirt. He could’ve seen the tremble in Racetrack’s fingers as he laid a hand over David’s rapidly rising and falling chest, wondering why his efforts weren’t doing any good. He could’ve seen terror building in big blue eyes as Race stripped David from his shirt and then his undershirt, and maybe he could’ve seen the gentle, sweet understanding flash across his friend’s face in a split second if he’d been looking— but he wasn’t. 

“Alright,“ Racetrack murmured, intelligent eyes flicking over the tightly wrapped bandages concealing his friend’s freckled chest. “Alright, Dave, ‘m not gonna look. But I gotta get these off, I think they’re makin’ it hard for you to breathe.”

He carefully looped his arms around David and undid the tight knots holding the binding of bandages together, eyes resolutely focused on the brick wall behind them. With two short, calculated movements, Race tugged the bandages off entirely and draped David’s discarded shirt over his chest. He then carefully turned his back to the other boy, making sure no curious passersby decided to peek into the alleyway.

It was wonderful to draw in a thick breath of the hot summer air. David’s chest swelled with the intake and a soft wheeze escaped his lips, oxygen finally filling his deprived lungs. He drank up gasps of the stuff as the spots began to fade and he finally spiraled back into consciousness, deep breaths evening out to a normal pace after about five minutes. He was too sapped of energy to do anything but sit there and let tears leak down his cheeks, because yes he was alive, but Racetrack knew and he was probably going to tell everyone. David let out a pathetic sniffle at the thought.

This caught Race’s attention and he turned around, concern etched into his face. “Aw, shit, Dave, don’t cry. Don’t cry, man. C’mon, put your shirt on and we’ll head back to lodgings so you can lay down somewhere comfortable.”

Man. David only hiccuped harder, reaching for his discarded bandage. He was in far too deep.

Immediately, Race snatched the bandage up and stuffed it in his pocket. “No way I’m letting you put this back on. We got at least a mile before we get back and I don’t want you suffocating again.”

“Race, please.” He begged, despising the weak vulnerability of his watery voice. This was a new low point– letting a boy two years younger than him tell him what to do. “Race, come on, I– I can’t go back without it on! Please– everyone’s gonna know! I can’t Racer, I–”

“No, Dave. I’m sorry, but it’s for the best. You’ll be okay. I promise.. Most of the guys are prolly out scrounging up dinner, anyways.” Grim and stern all at once, Race climbed to his feet with one catlike movement and stalked over to the end of the alleyway, standing with his back turned as if keeping guard. 

David sobbed. He sobbed as he tugged his undershirt on and sobbed harder as he buttoned his shirt and shrugged his waistcoat over his shoulders. Everyone was going to find out when they saw the swell of his chest beneath his shirt. They were all going to recoil in disgust. He could envision it already. Sure, there were girl newsies, but there were no girl newsies that pretended to be men and lied about their gender and name for months on end just because it made them feel sickeningly good. To think he’d actually started feeling comfortable and happy– of course that was ripped away from him. Too exhausted to be mortified, he was near the point of wailing when Race’s rough hands tugged him to his feet. David really longed for Jack’s gentle touches and then mentally slapped himself for that thought.

“Davey. Davey, c’mon. You’re gonna suffocate yourself again if you cry like that.” Race patted his cheek like he was trying to be gentle but didn’t quite know how. He only thought of Jack, who knew exactly how David liked to be touched without being told. He wanted to scream. David only noticed that Race was unbuttoning his own light blue flannel once the blonde was already shrugging it off, draping it around David’s shoulders. The extra drapery essentially covered his chest area, and nothing looked amiss with the additional layer distracting the eyes. Race slung an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s go, bud. I’m thirsty as hell. Y’know– Spot’s a great kisser but she sure as hell ain’t a great hostess. You know what I hafta do to get a cuppa water ‘round those parts? Actually, you don’t want to know. Spotty’s a sick bastard. ‘S why I love her. Though, people say I’m a sick bastard too, so I guess we’re a match made in hell. Wait, do Jews believe in hell?”

David barely managed to shake his head ‘no’, unable to understand why Race wasn’t addressing the elephant in the room. 

“Hah, weird. Where are evil people s’posed to go? Eternal Jewish jail? Shit, ain’t that a concept…” And he continued to yammer on, keeping David securely under his arm as they walked. Race didn’t seem to care that David wasn’t looking or really listening as they trudged through the ridiculously hot streets. David sweated his ass off and simultaneously tugged Race’s flannel down against his shoulders, despite the fact it was making him sweat harder. He probably stunk. It was the most miserable he’d been since Jack screwed everyone over at the rally. 

Somehow Race didn’t ask one question about David’s secret. He didn’t inquire about his old name or why he’d been lying. There wasn’t even a subtle accusation or anything. Instead they just walked and Race talked on and on about other things, his voice loud and commanding and normal in the summer heat. When they reached the lodging house, David wasn’t quite crying anymore, but he was confused and tired and a step beyond upset.

Rave shepherded him into the bunk room, where Les instantly barreled towards them. “Crutchie and I sold two hundred papes today! Can you believe it, David, can you—“

“Christ, what happened to you, Dave?” Crutchie asked with palpable concern, crossing the room in a few short strides. He pressed the back of his hand to David’s forehead and winced— David was sure his face was red as a rose with a sheen of sweat to match. “You’re gonna catch a heat death, Davey— what’s the deal, Race? Gotta look after other fellas when you take ‘em to Brooklyn— Les, can you go fix your brother a glass of water?”

“Sure.” Les frowned up at David, his eyebrows furrowed in the adorable way they always did when he had a particularly puzzling problem to solve. 

Crutchie led David over to one of the bunks and David collapsed onto his stomach, gratefully burying his face in whomever’s pillow this was. Crutchie gently patted his back before he straightened to stand tall. “On second thought, I’m gonna go wet a rag. Gotta cool you down somehow.”

His crutch plunked against the ground, quieter and quieter until David couldn’t hear him anymore. The mattress sank near his feet as Race sat, quiet for a moment. Then he awkwardly patted the back of David’s calf. “I ain’t a snitch. Don’t let that keep you up at night.” 

David didn’t have the energy to react, but relief crashed into him. What had he done to deserve people like Race in his life? The newsies made him feel more whole than he’d ever felt. Being with them made the ever-present pit in his chest seem to lesson. Something within him was happy and crooning around these brash, loud, sort of disgusting boys. He wanted to cry all over again but couldn’t manage any tears, so he just breathed deeply and gratefully. Racetrack wasn’t going to tell. His secret was safe. 

Their careful calm shattered as a flurry of footsteps entered the room, alongside an unmistakable voice, laced with passionate fury. “What the hell did you do to him?”

Racetrack stood to meet Jack, who barreled straight past him and dropped to a crouch at David’s bedside. Crutchie and Les trailed in behind Jack, each respectively carrying a bowl of water and a rag or a cup of cool water. David didn’t think he could handle the full force of Jack’s attention in his current state. He gulped down the water, focusing on the soothing temperature of the liquid. Race scoffed loudly. “I didn’t do shit. Some Brooklyn boys tried to mug us while we was heading home and I think the heat and the panic made Dave sick. You gotta calm down, Jack, I kept your boy safe.”

Your boy. David resisted a self-deprecating laugh. David wasn’t Jack’s anything. Maybe a very close friend, but he wasn’t Jack’s boy. Katherine was Jack’s girl. Katherine and Jack were each other’s in general. David had resigned himself to a life of awkward spectating, watching them love each other with nothing but a deep longing for Jack and pure need in his chest.

He thought about how much he wanted Jack very frequently. At first he’d assumed he was jealous. Maybe he wanted to be like Jack– gorgeous, confident, brazen, so obviously settled in his own skin. Then as time passed and they grew closer, David realized that no he wasn’t jealous. He didn’t want to be as harsh as the other boy and he didn’t need that charisma. They were different people. Different boys. David wanted to be with Jack. He wanted to kiss him and admire him openly and cling to him like Katherine did in private spaces. Jack, with his expressive brown eyes and his gorgeous smile. Jack, who deserved someone better than David. Someone like Katherine, who was gorgeous and intelligent and normal. David was broken and strange. Jack, stunning and wonderful as he was, would never return David’s affections— even in a hypothetical world where he knew who David was at home, behind closed doors, forced into skirts and called a name that didn’t really feel like his. Jack still wouldn’t want that person.

Still, David often found himself wondering… if he’d met Jack before he cut his hair and changed his clothes, would he have had a chance? 

Such thoughts made him feel ill. He wanted Jack to want him as he was, with his cropped curls and his comfortable clothes and as David, not as anyone else. Though, that was entirely impossible. He buried his face in the fabric beneath him as his stomach clenched in tight misery. 

“I can keep myself safe. I’m not some child that needs looking after.” He grumbled into the fabric of the pillow, earning a little laugh of agreement from Racer. 

“Yeah, I know, but that don’t mean I don’t worry about you.” Jack murmured, quiet and gentle as he threaded his fingers through David’s hair and tilted his head back. David didn’t often like meeting people’s eyes but he met Jack’s and his breath seemed to slip away. ”Mierda, Dave. Look at you… rough day, huh?”

Crutchie wordlessly handed Jack the ratty old washcloth, Les trailing anxiously behind him, but it honestly felt like David and Jack were the only people in the room. David, trapped helplessly in Jack’s orbit, drawn in by his beauty and his impossible charisma.

He let out a huff of a laugh. “You could say so.”

“Well, that’s what happens when I’m not around.” Jack crooned jokingly, but David could hear the subtle notes of guilt in his voice. Of course Jack was blaming himself– he’d been working at The World three days a week, which was the whole reason why David went to sell at the Sheepshead tracks with Racer in the first place. 

Normally when Jack was out, David and Les sold by themselves just fine. However, some days Crutchie and Les liked to combine their powers of ‘crippled orphan boy’ and ‘tiny orphan boy’ to sell massive amounts of papers. David would’ve preferred selling alone, but then Race extended an invitation, and people didn’t tend to invite David anywhere before he met the newsies, so he took the offer with little consideration of doing otherwise. He could tell, just by the furrow in Jack’s perfect brow, that Jack was blaming himself.

David wasn’t having any of that and reached out to carefully run his fingers through Jack’s hair, brave enough to cup his cheek. “It’s not your fault. I can see you thinking it’s your fault, Jack. Stop it. Okay? Nothing bad happened. Race was smart and he made the smart decision to run, and I’m just… well, I’m not as fit as you all, so I got winded and overheated. Everything’s alright. You can calm that protective head of yours.”

Delusional as he was, David could’ve sworn Jack angled his head further into the touch, and a guilty little smile tilted his full lips. “Read me like one of your books didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well…” David stared at the dripping washcloth in Jack’s hand, and the little puddle on the floor beneath it. “You’ll want me on my back, I suppose?”

“I’ll have you any way, Davey-mine.” Jack winked, and David felt like his whole head was resetting.

It just wasn’t fair. Jack had no right to flirt with him like that, like it was nothing, like it wasn’t ripping David apart piece by piece and forcing him to rethink how he wanted to put himself together. He wanted Jack so, so badly. It was almost ridiculous. 

Race and Crutchie cackled and David took Jack’s cap off his head to whack him with it as he rolled over, making sure Race’s shirt sat baggy over his chest. Jack only winked again and caught David’s hand in his own, threading their fingers together. “Jack Kelly, you are ridiculous.” 

“What are you laughing at?” Les whined, big brown eyes darting between all of the older boys. “Come on, guys, what does that mean? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, Lessy.” He sighed deeply and motioned his little brother over just as Jack carefully dropped David’s hand. He threaded his tanned fingers through dark curls to push David’s hair away from his forehead, replacing it with the damp cloth. David hummed thankfully at the cool touch and let his eyes flutter shut, wrapping his free arm around Les.

“You’re sweaty. And red.” Les remarked, carefully re-adjusting Race’s shirt to cover a bit more of his older brother’s chest. David’s heart swelled. 

David cracked an eye open and glared at his sibling, who was smiling an innocent grin, freckled cheeks turning his eyes into crescent moons. “Thank you for telling me, Les-kah.” 

The younger boy positively beamed. “You’re welcome. Hey- are you gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” David soothed, giving his little hand a squeeze. Les squeezed right back. “Just need to cool down, then we can go home. Ima will save us some dinner.”

“Okay.” Les glanced at the door. “So… I can go play marbles?”

He couldn’t stop his own laugh. “Yes, go play marbles.”

“Your brother’s in good hands.” Jack remarked simply, resting one of his warm hands on David’s shoulder. Normally David would absolutely melt at the touch, but all he felt was a spike of panic because Jack’s thumb was so close to something it shouldn’t be close to. David’s heart ran a mile a minute against his chest as Les pressed a kiss to his cheek and bolted off. Crutchie took his seat at the end of the bed as Jack dragged a thumb over the collar of the blue flannel draped over David. “Maybe we oughta get you out of these shirts–”

“No!”

“Wh– you’re gonna sweat to death. You got like, four layers on.” Jack argued, hand darting towards David’s buttons. David deftly slapped his hand away and Jack recoiled in shock, eyebrows shooting up because David never got rough with him like that. He was already feeling guilty. “Alright, I’m confused.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with a modest man, I always say.” Race responded easily, patting David’s ankle. “If he don’t wanna get naked for you, Kelly, y’can’t make him. You got Katherine for that, remember?”

Crutchie grinned. “Yeah, you at least gotta end things nice and easy with her before you ask Davey to go nude for you.”

Jack’s cheeks seemed to darken beneath his tan and the great, charismatic strike leader floundered for a fleeting moment before he stepped back into his easy personality and rolled his eyes. “That ain’t what I mean and you know it. Dave–”

“I’ll be fine with my clothes on. Really, Jack.” He tried to make himself sound relaxed and easy, but he was a notoriously terrible liar and Jack almost definitely heard the nerves twinging his tone. Thankfully he didn’t press– just sighed and flipped the washcloth over. 

David tried to ignore his sudden guilt for keeping such a secret from these people. Part of him was curling up in shame, telling him that none of his friends knew who he was. But this was who he really was, wasn’t it? When he was selling papers, dressed in trousers with short hair, that was the most comfortable he’d ever felt. They knew the real him. They just… well, they didn’t know the version of him that society said he was supposed to be, and that was still something that caused David a wild amount of guilt.

Jack began carefully dabbing the rag over his cheeks and David felt his own eyes fluttering shut, one hand coming up to loosely wrap around Jack’s wrist. Race carefully patted David’s ankle and got to his feet, just as Crutchie spoke. “We’ll leave you two to it. Let us know if you need anything, Jack.”

“Sure, Crutch.” He murmured distractedly, and David could feel Jack’s eyes on him like a searing brand. He wanted to disappear into the fabric of the uncomfortably stiff bunk beneath him, and that discomfort didn’t go away until he felt Jack’s gaze fall away.

He’d probably have to tell Jack what Race found out eventually, though the idea of doing so made him sick to his stomach. Thankfully Jack wasn’t speaking or trying to start some pointless conversation. He just occasionally passed the rag over David’s cooling cheeks, maybe re-situating it over his forehead. After what felt like eternity but could’ve been only fifteen minutes, David felt himself starting to give in to his own exhaustion as the rag grew warmer and warmer. Jack removed it entirely to re-dip it in the water, and as David was finally falling asleep, he could’ve sworn he felt a pair of lips ghost against his forehead. Maybe. 

But that would be ridiculous. Jack wouldn’t. Or at least David assumed as much. 

[comphy-and-cozy]

okay finally mentally prepared for this and instead of having tags 493028 miles long i'm going to put it all under a cut but to everyone reading this right now do yourself a favor and add this to your TBR immediately!!!!!!!

"You've been staring at him since he's arrived" okay and what of it mikko it's not my fault your former teammate is gorgeous

"JT missed you just as much" when I tell you I physically had to put my phone down and take a breath at this point (like... 10 paragraphs in... it was in this moment she knew she was fucked)

obsessed with the hints at prior fantasies and escapades and i would not complain if you decided to write about them in any fashion nicole

and how casually and easily mikko is like "yeah let's fuck that man"

casually making out with mikko rantanen in public only to be interrupted by the only man who could pull me away from him

"acting like you didn't tell me she'd never leave your bed if you had her" i love when we have the same brain<3

"what about former teammates?" put-phone-down-and-breathe counter: 2

'his crystal-clear desire that he wanted you in whatever way he was allowed to have you' pls this is gorgeous

as the resident compher queen i thought i'd be missing him in any scene he wasn't in but uh the entire bit in the bedroom before he arrives made me WEAK

"Fuck." put-phone-down-and-breathe counter: 3

I CAN FEEL YOU IN HER THROAT?!?!?!??! nicole you diabolical little- put-phone-down-and-breathe counter: 4

i really appreciate the effort you put into waxing poetic about his beauty bc he is quite pretty

“Keep your eyes on Comph, sweet girl. Show him how pretty you look when you cum.” put-phone-down-and-breathe counter: 5

the dirty talk is insane and truly off the charts you really went off with this one bestie

Mikko's secret motive to distract JT is really a cherry on top tbh

The cumplay I just. put-phone-down-and-breath counter: 6

Truly this has immediately risen to one of my favorite fics of all time - you really surpassed all expectations and while I know you didn't write this for me, it is so personal and special to me because I got to write the counterpart with you!!!!

Homecoming: Craving

i could eat that girl for lunch. she dances on my tongue, tastes like she might be the one.

summary: JT Compher is back in Denver. Unfortunately for you, your craving for him hasn't subsided. But fortunately, you are blessed with Mikko Rantanen - your boyfriend who seems to share your hunger towards his former teammate. word count: 8.7K warnings: smut! threesome (MFM, no explicit MxM but bisexual Mikko is heavily implied), oral (m & f receiving), ass-eating (f receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, fingering (vaginal + anal - f receiving), anal sex (f receiving), cumplay, dirty talk, and just general depravity. author's note: here it is. finally. my sister fic to @comphy-and-cozy's fic Homecoming: Crush. (which if you haven't already read it, go do that.) so much credit goes to her, from this beautiful header to the entire concept of this fic. i was just lucky that she dropped it in my askbox one night and it infected my brain as well.

“Didn’t think you missed him that much.”

The deep voice startles you out of your reverie, your eyes darting from the ginger that had occupied your attention since he stepped foot in the bar to your boyfriend Mikko sitting next to you.

“What?” you say, partially because you brain didn’t quite register his words and partially because your mind was still playing the images of JT’s fingers wrapped around his beer bottle. How the trace of liquor on his lips catches the dim lighting of the bar and how they could feel pressed against your own lips or against your –

“I said,” Mikko smiles, once again breaking your trace as you try to shake those fantasies out of your head. “I didn’t think you missed JT that much.”

Your heart flips in your chest, your eyes locking with his. There is a hint of mischief sparkling in his blue irises, one that only increases as he takes in your hesitation. Granted, you weren’t sure what he was implying – if anything at all. But you had managed to keep the… infatuation? Desire? Craving… you had for his now former teammate a secret ever since those feelings first appeared. You weren’t about to admit them now. Your silence gives Mikko time to elaborate but as soon as he does, you realize that your appraisal of JT Compher had been anything but subtle.

“You’ve been staring at him since he arrived.”

The heat rises to your cheeks before you can stop it, the embarrassment flooding through you unbridled.

“Oh. Um, yeah, um. It’s just, uh,” you stutter out, the gaze of your boyfriend not accusatory but still too much for your mind to handle. It doesn’t help your case when, in your stumbling, your eyes dart back to the man in question. Perhaps thankfully, your jumbled explanation is cut off by Mikko’s warm laughter and the sound instantly soothes you.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says scooting closer, his arm wrapping around you, hand gripping your waist as he pulls you into his body, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. You let some of the anxiety depart from your body, Mikko’s own heat helping you relax. You grab your drink, ready for the alcohol to put you even more at ease. It almost works until you feel the warmth of Mikko’s breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“JT missed you just as much.”

You weren’t sure if it was the words he said or how he said them – in that hushed sultry tone – that has you choking on your drink, the coughs coming in quick succession. Mikko doesn’t do anything to help you, probably enjoying your flailing. Eventually, your breathing rightens and you flip your head to stare at him with the most bewildered look painting your features.

“What?” you say, the only word that your brain could muster falling from your lips. It isn’t the clearest question but one Mikko intrinsically understands anyway.

“Neither of you were being very subtle,” he cooly explains. His blue eyes are still locked on your face, taking in the shift of your expression as the information sinks in. The fact that Mikko was able to read your desires so easily made you flounder but not as much as his words ‘neither of you’; a subtle implication that JT potentially wanted you the same way you wanted him.

Your eyes fall away from Mikko, trailing back towards JT. The redhead is still ignorant to your stare, still laughing with the other guys. You watch his movements: the way his plain white t-shirt stretches across his shoulders, the flex of his forearms, the spark in his dark eyes. Your observation is once again cut short by the shifting of Mikko behind you, pulling you closer to him as he deftly brushes your hair away from your shoulder, exposing your neck.

“Do you want to give him a homecoming you’ll both remember?”

You force yourself to take one of the deepest breaths you’ve ever taken, trying your damnedest to suppress the carnal hunger that had easily found a home in your lower abdomen. With quick look back at your boyfriend, you take in his expression: curious and ever patient. It would be romantic, the way he is looking at you, juxtaposed only by the fact that he had almost hauled you onto his lap, the heat radiating from him only increasing the fire already surging in you.

“Are you…” you start to say, a part of your mind still reeling from the fact that this wasn’t a dream brought forth from your subconscious because JT Compher was back in Denver. “You’d be okay with that?”

You finally manage to choke out the question, giving way to you need for your boyfriend’s former teammate.

“Did you forget about last summer already?” he says, one eyebrow quirking upwards, a teasing lilt to his reply. You feel another rush of desire as the images of skin still slick from the sauna and the phantom sensation of two pairs of hands on your body flash through your mind.

“I mean, with him?” you clarify. Summer was Mikko’s idea, one you gladly went along with but this… he never expressed any interest in JT. That craving was entirely yours.

“Kisu, you’ve indulged my desires. It’s only fair I return the favor.”

The smile that appears on your face this time is not shy or bashful. Instead, it is devilish, wicked. How you managed to find someone like Mikko – a man who never balked at your desires because he understood and sometimes shared them – was a miracle to you.

Your eyes once again slink back towards JT and this time, your gaze meets his. A sigh falls from your lips when you feel Mikko burying his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulders, his lips pressing against your skin. Your stare never leaves JT, your mouth falling open in a soft sigh as his brown eyes drink you in.

It takes a moment before an equally devilish smirk appears on his lips. He takes another swig of his beer as he watches your body react to Mikko’s kisses, that heady stare forcing flames to lick at your abdomen.

“Careful with those eyes, kisu,” Mikko whispers. “We are still in public.”

It’s a meant as a tease but you’d be damned if that knowledge doesn’t send another surge of heat through your body. You shift impossibly closer to your boyfriend, his hand moving to grip at your opposite thigh, finally pulling you into his lap. It takes all your strength to quiet the moan that wants to fall from your lips as your ass grazes against his groin, feeling how hard he is already, your eyes briefly fluttering close. Judging from the rumble that emanates from Mikko’s chest, you can tell that he feels the pulsing of your own core. You regain enough composure to shoot one last sultry look in JT’s direction before turning your attention to Mikko.

“You’re one to talk,” you quip, your hips rolling to subtly grind against him, a thrum of power humming through you as you watch his jaw clench and feel his grip tighten. Those shocking blue eyes re-open, a small grin appearing on his lips in response to your words and actions. You feel the hand that had been residing on the top of your thighs disappear, his fingers coming to trace your jawline, guiding your face so he can properly press his lips against yours.

You relax into the kiss, your body reacting the same way it always did when you kissed Mikko. It was so easy, so effortless, sinking into the gravity of him. Your own hand lifts to cup his face, your fingers deftly tracing the cut of his jawline, his stubble tickling your skin. Mikko’s arm wraps around your body, his hand now splayed across your stomach, his own fingertips coming to dip underneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against the smooth skin he finds there.

“Am I interrupting something?”

The deep voice that had haunted your darkest fantasies sounds from somewhere close by and you force yourself to pull away from Mikko. The heat that had been bubbling inside of you surges at the sight of JT standing in front of the corner booth table, his heavy stare dancing over your body perched on your boyfriend’s lap.

“You’re always welcome to join.”

If it was any other night, if it was any other person, if the previous ten minutes hadn’t already happened, your words would be a slip of the tongue; a poorly worded invitation for JT join the two of you in the cushioned booth. Any potential innuendo that could be attached would have been laughed off with a small chuckle and an embarrassed heat in your cheeks. But tonight… the only warmth that thrummed in your body was miles south of your face. You can see one of JT’s eyebrows jump up along with one of the corners of his mouth.

“Am I?” he asks, his eyes darting to Mikko.

“Like you don’t want to J,” Mikko chuckles, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Acting like you didn’t tell me she’d never leave your bed if you had her.”

Every piece of information that casually falls from your boyfriend’s mouth has your mind spinning, your own head tilting in curiosity.

“When was this?”

“Last year,” JT replies, finally sitting down, his jeans scratching against the cracked leather as he scoots in, his body crowding your space. “When you showed up at the gala in that silk dress. How Mikko let you out of the house, I don’t even know.”

“Like to show my girl off,” comes your boyfriend’s reply and you just know his lips are twisted into that cocky grin. “Share her with the world. With my teammates.”

It’s a verbal sparring of subtle innuendos and insinuations. JT’s brown eyes, now appearing even darker than normal – a combination of the low light of the bar and the desire that was barely hidden – flit back to meet your gaze.

“What about former teammates?”

The question hangs in the air, directed to both you and Mikko even though JT’s eyes never leave yours. He must’ve been able to sense that this craving was entirely yours and Mikko was just along for the ride. That assumption is only encouraged by the feeling of Mikko nuzzling into your hair, his voice a quiet whisper heard only to you.

“Go on, kulta. Tell Comph how much you’ve wanted him.”

The shiver runs through you – one of not only desire at Mikko’s quiet demand, but one of appreciation for the man holding you. The only man that you ever thought about spending your life with, something he knew – probably one of the reasons he was comfortable sharing you with his friends.

“If it were up to us, you’d already be in our bed,” you reply. Your words make it clear that you were still Mikko’s girl; that your lust for JT didn’t outweigh your love for your boyfriend.

You can see JT’s eyes flick over to Mikko and you once again intrinsically know the expression on his face, the seductive eyes that he is directing towards the redhead. If there was any shock, JT masks it well, his gaze returning to you with a small grin.

“Isn’t it? Up to you, I mean.”

“Are you that ready to be our plaything, Compher?” Mikko quips, his own desires getting bolder the longer the conversation goes. JT chuckles with him, undeterred.

“If that’s what you want me to be.”

If you thought the fire within you was blazing before, now it was scorching. JT’s deference to the two of you, his intrinsic understanding that he was the outsider in this situation, his willingness to submit, his crystal-clear desire that he wanted you in whatever way he was allowed to have you… it made you weak.

“This is supposed to be your homecoming present J,” you murmur, finally offering up the proposal Mikko suggested moments ago directly to him. “You sure you don’t want to call the shots?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” JT replies and you must restrain yourself from crawling off your boyfriend’s lap and into his, kissing him in full view of the bar and the rest of the Avalanche players.

“In that case,” you start to say, elongating the syllables as you glance back to Mikko, his blue eyes sparkling with a mischief that is surely reflected in yours. That devious smirk reappears on your face as you return your gaze to JT. “Do you remember our address? Or do you need a reminder?”

“I think I got it but maybe a text just in case. Definitely wouldn’t want to get lost and miss out.”

“We wouldn’t want you that either.”

The remainder of your time at the bar is a somewhat successful attempt at acting like it was the end of any other night out. The calm removal of your body from Mikko’s lap and all three of your bodies from the booth, the quiet departure of you and Mikko, unnoticed by everyone with the exception of JT, who had returned to the small group of Avs players under the guise of wishing them goodnight so he could return to the hotel before Detroit’s lights-out curfew – a curfew that wasn’t enforced until much later.

The instant you and Mikko are secure in his car, you lean over the center console and bring his lips to meet yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers tangle in your hair as he kisses you back until you pull away.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Anything for you, rakkaani.”

You sink back into the passenger seat, Mikko’s hand finding its usual place on your thigh as he drives down the Denver streets. The ride home is filled with the ambient noises of the city as well as a quiet discussion of how the night would go; what you wanted out of it, what he wanted, what JT would be comfortable with. The conversation lulls, the barebone framework of a plan in both of your minds.

It is in that silence that Mikko’s hand slowly starts to caress your leg, tracing the seam on the inside of your thigh higher, chuckling at the way you shift in your seat, impatient. Finally, the two of you come to a stop in the driveway and it is a scramble out of the car and through the front door, leaving the deadbolt undone for JT later.

Mikko wastes no time pulling you up the stairs and into the bedroom, his large hands cupping your face to kiss you again. Your body goes lax in his hold, hands reaching over his broad shoulders, twisting into the soft cotton of his shirt. Mikko’s lips trail down across your jawline and onto the soft skin of your neck, busying himself by sucking a mark into your skin. You are content to lean your head back and let him claim you, your only sounds contented sighs. That is, until Mikko’s hands deftly undo your jeans and slip under the waistband of your underwear. A soft moan falls from you as his fingers trace your slit and you can feel his chuckle against your skin as he finds you wet and wanting.

“That desperate for someone else?” he quietly teases. “My little kisu.”

It is hard for you to give a solid response; partially because of how amazing Mikko’s movements felt against you and partially because well… he wasn’t wrong. The fact that in a few minutes, your fantasy of sharing a bed with JT Compher would be coming true just made that fire in you roar stronger.

“How’d I get so lucky to have such a dirty girl all to myself?”

It’s that subtle confirmation that he was enjoying this just as much as you that made you pull away from him, his hands retreating as yours tug the material of his shirt over his head. He helps expose his bare skin to you, the sight of his sculpted body never failing to make you weak. Mikko’s hands quickly return to you, mirroring your movements by pulling your top off your body, revealing the dark red lace stretched across your chest.

“Did you think this would happen when you picked out this set?” Mikko questions, his hands tracing your sides to help tug down your jeans, the matching underwear snug against your hips.

“Planned on having you tonight,” you say, stepping forward, your fingers deftly come to rest on the front of his pants. “J’s just a pleasant addition.”

A grin stretches across Mikko’s face before he pulls you back to his lips. Your hands now blindly undo the clasp of his jeans, your fingers twisting into both waistbands as you pull at the material, leaving him naked. It is instinctive, the way you reach for your boyfriend, Mikko moaning at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him slowly.

“Kisu, need your mouth,” he groans and you smile, never tiring of the way you can make your 6-foot-4 boyfriend beg for you.

You gladly sink to your knees on the plush carpet, eyes bright as you look up at Mikko, hand still wrapped around the thickness of him. Your lips press against his thighs, working kisses up the skin. Your mouth briefly suckles his balls, feeling them tighten against your tongue before you slide your lips along the length of him. Mikko’s fingers comb through your hair, gathering the strands into a makeshift ponytail as finally wrap your lips around him.

“Perkele, always so good for me,” Mikko groans above you and you take more of him into the wet cavern of your mouth, tongue slowly tracing along every vein, moaning at the taste. You bob your head, relishing in the sound of Finnish curses falling from his lips.

“Fuck.”

A new voice sounds out and your eyes slide over to see JT standing in the doorway.

“Not sure what I was expecting but this wasn’t it,” he chuckles, the initial shock fading from his face as he steps deeper into the room. “Guess I took a little too long.”

“Nah, she’s just a desperate little slut,” Mikko replies, encouraging you to continue your movements against him. “Aren’t you, kisu?”

The question – along with the sight of JT now standing next to your boyfriend, his own dark eyes staring down at you – makes another rush of arousal flow between your thighs. Your only response is to stretch your mouth to accommodate more of Mikko, his head falling back as JT’s lips twitch in a smile.

“Look so good like this, baby,” JT whispers, crouching next to you, his hand tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, thumb brushing the mascara-stained tears off your cheek. “D’you like having your face stuffed with cock?”

“Why don’t you find out, Comph?”

JT moves out of your line of sight but you can still feel the heat from his body circling you. His hands find your hips and you can’t stop the way they roll as your back connects with JT’s chest. You moan when you feel his own erection against your ass, his hands trailing down in between your thighs. A soft moan falls from JT as he feels the ruined material of your panties, your arousal continuing to flood the fabric as he presses his fingers against you, your movements against Mikko faltering.

“So wet, sweetheart,” he whispers, the hand between your thighs disappearing, coming to trace up your body, cupping your breast, fingers teasing your nipples through the lace.

“Told you. My girl gets so turned on from sucking dick,” Mikko murmurs, his blue eyes looking down at you with filthy admiration.

You whine, their words making you even more desperate, one of JT’s hands coming to rest on your neck. Your movements against Mikko finally stall as JT’s lips connect to the column of your throat, sucking an identical mark next to the one your boyfriend had previously left. There is a gentle tug on your hair, calling your attention back to the man standing above you.

“Need me to take over?”

You hum an affirmative, your jaw going slack as you hold yourself still – a little difficult considering the heat of JT behind you, his lips now peppering kisses against your shoulders. With a quick blink up at Mikko, you let him slide deeper into your mouth.

“Fuck, Rants,” JT groans against your skin. “Can feel you in her throat.” His words are accompanied by a soft press against your neck, increasing the tightness around Mikko, making a loud moan fall from your boyfriend.

“Niin vitun hyvä,” Mikko mutters.

Your eyes stay connected with his blue ones, his hips lightly thrusting. You feel JT’s chin come to rest on your shoulder, his own gaze lifting to meet Mikko’s as his hand once again pushes on your throat. Mikko’s cock hardens in your mouth at both the sensation and the sight of two pairs of doe eyes looking up at him.

Another almost growled curse falls from your boyfriend’s lips before he pulls back, the sudden absence of him making the saliva and precum flow. You lick the remnants off your own swollen lips with a sigh as your body leans back against JT.

“She’s all yours, Comph.”

“Finally,” JT murmurs, his fingers reaching to turn your head to him, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss.

The mutual moans fall from both of you in response to finally tasting the other. Your hand finds the nape of JT’s neck, pressing him closer as you deepen the kiss, tongue gliding against his. JT’s other hand pulls your hips back, moaning into your open mouth as you grind on his still confined length.

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” JT asks, breaking the kiss to thrust against you again, pulling another whine from your lips. “How long have you been wanting this, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know. A while?”

You couldn’t quite remember when you started to view JT as something more than your boyfriend’s teammate, when your platonic glances took on a more carnal energy.

“Still can’t believe this is happening,” you continue, voicing your disbelief. “It’s surprising.”

“Surprising that I wanted this too or surprising that it took this long to admit it?”

“A little bit of both,” you reply, your gaze dropping to his lips before looking back into his eyes. “Imagine the fun we could’ve had if we had a whole season together instead of two days.”

There is no subtlety in the way JT’s irises darken in response to your words and you swear you can see every filthy image that passes through his mind at the prospect of sharing you for more than a single night.

“It’s a shame.”

“It is a shame,” he agrees. “Guess that means I’ll have to make the most of my homecoming present.”

“I guess you will,” you whisper, lifting your head to kiss him again.

The two of you stay there for a brief moment; kneeling on the carpet, pressed against each other, bodies writhing, soft moans and whines filling the bedroom. JT eventually breaks the kiss, forehead pressing against yours as those deep brown eyes capture you in his stare.

“Can I feel that talented mouth of yours?”

Your own eyes sparkle, a smirk appears on your lips with ease. There was nothing you wanted more than to feel the weight of him on your tongue – something you were sure he knew. Yet here he was, asking anyway. What a gentleman.

“Take off those clothes and get on the bed, then you will.”

JT kisses you once more time before pulling away, following your directions. The absence of his warmth makes you pout but that disappointment is quickly extinguished when you spin on your knees to watch him strip. Your eyes stay pinned to his body, relishing in the sight of his exposed skin – a sight that you only ever imagined.

You were lucky to say that your imagination didn’t come close to reality.

His ivory pale skin a delicious contrast to the fire red of his hair and beard. The way his muscles moved beneath his skin, a testament to his profession. The light smattering of hair across his chest and down his stomach, your gaze following its trail. The moan that falls from you is desperate when he takes off his pants and boxers, his hard length slapping up against his abdomen.

“Like what you see, kisu?” you hear your boyfriend ask from somewhere behind you. You glance back to find him sitting in the armchair in the bedroom corner, a hand around his cock.

“He’s so pretty, Mikko,” you reply, the words twinged with desire. Mikko just chuckles, his eyes lifting from your frame to JT’s, his own gaze raking across his former teammate’s naked form.

“He is, isn’t he?”

Your eager eyes reconnect to JT and you can see the shiver that runs through him, pinned under both of your hungry gazes.

“Fuck, you two are going to be the death of me.”

“Get on the bed, baby,” you whisper. “Let me take care of you.”

No more encouragement is need as JT quickly climbs onto the still-made bed, resting against the pillows before his eyes return to you. You unfold yourself from your kneeling position, now standing in front of him at the foot of the bed. The power you feel, the desire that thrums through you at the sight of JT patiently waiting for you makes you wicked. You decide to tease him more, your hands reaching behind your back and undoing the clasp of your bra. The material falls from your chest and you feel irresistible when you hear two different moans fill the room – one from someone who has seen you naked a hundred times and the other from someone who was seeing you for the first time.

You step forward, crawling on top of the mattress, your knees sinking in the plush sheets. Your siren eyes look up to JT as you move closer between his spread legs.

The sight of him makes your desire swell, a carnal need to taste his skin appearing. You lean down, following a similar path up his thighs as you did Mikko’s a few moments ago. Your lips move to his hipbones, kissing the taut skin there before following the cut of his body, JT’s stomach contracting every so often in response to your soft touch. You soon reach the base of him, your tongue darting out to lick his silken skin. A moan sounds from above you, encouraging you to drag up his length to the tip of him.

You see JT’s hands bury themselves into the sheets, his chest already heaving as he looks down at you. You take pity, closing your mouth around him, moaning at the taste of him against your tongue. It’s intoxicating and you don’t stop yourself from sinking further down, JT’s moans and soft grunts encouraging you to take him deeper.

“Fuck. God, you’re so good – she’s so good, Rants,” JT whines as you work your tongue against him, swallowing him inch by inch. You hear your boyfriend’s soft chuckle from somewhere behind you and it’s only a moment until you feel his hands on your hips, toying with the waistband of your underwear.

“Yes, she is,” Mikko practically growls, fingers twisting around the lace and dragging the material down your thighs. You moan against JT when the cool air of the bedroom hits your molten core, the whines only increasing when you feel Mikko’s lips trace over the curve of your ass to the place where the muscle meets your thigh.

Your focus on JT wavers when Mikko’s large hands pull at the globes of your ass, spreading you open and you hear him moan at the sight of your soaked pussy. Mikko doesn’t hesitate, diving into your core, his lips working against you. You have to take a few deep – albeit ragged – breaths before turning your attention back to JT, wanting to make him feel good.

It was his homecoming after all.

Mikko doesn’t make it easy, his tongue alternating between plunging into your heat and flicking your clit, muffled whines escaping you. His hand once again gropes your ass, opening you more and you can feel the electric shiver run down your spine as his tongue trails up, past your core, against the small strip of sensitive skin before circling your puckered hole.

You remove your lips from JT’s cock to let out a loud unbridled moan. You look back, eyes connecting with Mikko’s baby blues, your hips rocking as he eats your ass, one hand lifting to press against your core, not neglected for a moment.

“Sweetheart,” JT calls out, your gaze returning to him. “Don’t stop, please.”

You nod softly, little whimpers and whines still falling from you as Mikko continues his ministrations. The sensation steals all your attention and that realization causes you to reach out for one of JT’s hands, practically prying it from the sheets and guiding it to your head. You preen when JT’s fingers burrow into your hair, gently taking hold and pulling your mouth back onto his hard cock. You hum appreciatively as JT’s hips gently pulse, thrusting into your mouth.

A soft sigh escapes as you let yourself relish in the sensations at each end of your body. You trace every inch of JT in your mouth while your hips move against Mikko’s tongue still buried in your ass, his fingers caressing your soaked core. Above you, JT’s moans increase and underneath you, you can feel his rhythm falter. His stuttered sounds call Mikko’s attention, his lips disappearing from you.

“Gonna cum in that sweet mouth, Comph?” he asks, his voice heavy. JT’s only response is a strangled moan, his hand twisting deeper into your hair. “Go on. She wants it. Don’t you, kisu?”

Mikko’s question is punctuated with the press of his fingers plunging into your core. You moan, your eyes darting up to meet JT’s, hoping that your silent plea is understood. JT reads you with ease, even after only a few minutes of having you in bed. His movements increase, fucking your face as his head falls against the pillows. It is only a moment before he stills, holding you in place as his release hits the back of your throat. You gag lightly, his dick twitching in your mouth as his grip goes lax. You slide your lips against him, cleaning any remnants from his skin before remove yourself from him, eyes flicking up to see his brown irises trained on you.

A soft smile appears on your face before your mouth falls open in a gasp, Mikko’s fingers still buried inside you, thumb coming to press against your clit.

“You get so wet from being a good little slut,” he mutters, his hand working against you, forcing more of those delectable sounds from you. Your head falls to rest on the top of JT’s thigh, your body rolling.

“Please, Mikko, want your mouth back on me,” you whine, one of your hands reaching back to spread yourself open, an emphasis to your plea. Mikko’s response is a dark chuckle, fingers curling inside your core, causing your walls to flutter.

“Keep your eyes on Comph, sweet girl. Show him how pretty you look when you cum.”

That demand is all Mikko says before his mouth returns to your ass. It takes all your will-power to keep your eyes open and locked on JT as the dual sensations of Miko’s tongue and fingers pull you closer to the edge. JT just watches you; the way your body writhes, the way your mouth falls open, your tongue occasionally flicking over your lips as you whine.

“Feel good, sweetheart?”

You respond with a small nod, another whine falling from you. JT brushes the side of your face, his hand trailing down from your temple, across your jaw until his thumb presses against your plush bottom lip. You easily take the digit into your mouth, noticing the way JT’s eyes darken, his dick twitching with renewed interest.

“Gonna cum for me? Come on, sweetheart. Want to see it.”

JT’s quiet demand is all it takes for you to fall over that peak, your eyes finally closing as the warmth explodes from your core, the energy of your orgasm thrumming through your entire body. You can faintly hear Mikko moan, his tongue trailing down to your core to drink the sweet nectar of you.

“Such a good girl,” Mikko mutters, pressing a kiss against the base of your spine as JT removes his finger from between your lips.

Your body warms with his praise, your eyes fluttering open. The first sight you see is JT above you, his stomach clenching as he holds himself upright. Your eyes quickly dart to his length, semi-hard. Without hesitation you to reach up and grip him, your hand sliding with ease over the saliva-soaked skin. JT moans, his cock hardening again in response to your movements.

“Want his dick that bad, huh?” Mikko questions, his hand caressing the outside of your thigh and your gaze darts back to meet his blue eyes.

“Can I have it?”

“Like you have to ask,” he chuckles in response. His fingers trail down, hooking the underwear still resting in the crook of your knees. He carefully slips them off your body as he departs from the bed. “Why don’t you show J how pretty you look riding cock? What d’you say, Comph? You’d like that?”

“Fuck yes,” comes his desperate reply, your hand still working against him, a laugh falling from you and Mikko.

“Go on then, mirri. Take what you want.”

You don’t need any more coaxing, hand falling from JT as you crawl higher up on the mattress, one leg swinging over his body to straddle him. You lean down to kiss him, your hair creating a curtain your faces. JT happily accepts the kiss, moaning at the lingering taste of him in your mouth. Your hips roll, the sensation of your soaked folds gliding against him causing another moan to emanate from his chest. You movements continue until his dick is once again rigid underneath you. You tear away from the kiss, lifting your torso up, hands finding the sturdy planes of his chest.

JT simply looks up at you, pupils blown wide at the sight of you hovering above him. One of your hands traces down his body until you reach his cock. You gently grasp him, stroking him a few more times, spreading your arousal against his skin. JT’s hands find your hips, lifting and holding you steady as you align his length with your center.

The mutual moans that fall as you lower yourself onto him sound like something straight out of a porno. Your eyes roll back, chest heaving as JT sinks deeper into you, burying himself to the hilt.

“Shit, sweetheart. So fucking tight. So wet,” JT mutters from below you, his grip tightening so much that you’re concerned there might be bruises the next day. “God, Mik. Don’t know how you manage to leave this sweet pussy.”

“Knowing I get to come home to it every night helps,” Mikko replies, his quiet claim of you making your walls flutter around JT.

The two of you still, deeply breathing, memorizing every sensation, knowing that this might never happen again. The realization of limited time must hit JT because his hands start to pull at your hips, guiding you to grind against his cock. You follow his movements, gliding along his length, soft gasps falling from your lips at ever stroke of JT within you.

“You’re right, Mikko. She looks so fucking good riding me,” JT mutters, addressing your boyfriend who lingers at the edge of the bed.

“One of my favorite positions to have her in.”

The praise falling from both of their mouths encourages you more, your body moving in a more feverish pace. You lean your body back, hands switching from JT’s chest to his thighs, using that leverage to lift your hips. The new angle gives JT a clear line of sight and you hear his moan as he watches his length disappear into your center.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Fucking perfect cunt taking all of me,” he groans, his hands lifting from your hips to your chest, fingers teasing your nipples causing more moans to escape you.

You are so caught up in JT – the feeling of him inside you, the lingering taste of him on your tongue, the heat radiating from his body – that you almost lose track of what your boyfriend is doing. That is, until you feel the mattress shift under the weight of another body. You hear the bedsprings creak as Mikko appears behind you, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Look at you, kisu. Being such a good girl for Comph.”

Your only reply is to press your lips against his, having been deprived of his kisses for far too long. Mikko kisses you back just as fiercely, his hand coming to rest on the hollows of your collarbone. You can faintly hear JT curse underneath you as he pauses your movements, holding your hips still.

Mikko breaks away from you and you whine at the loss of both sensations. Mikko only smiles, his hand moving to your shoulder before he gently presses your body forward. You let him guide you folding yourself over JT’s body until your chests are pressed together. The proximity means that you trade Mikko’s lips for JT’s, an exchange that both you and he gladly accept.

You let yourself be engulfed in JT’S cinnamon whiskey taste and his scorching warmth. Faintly, you hear the click of a cap behind you and feel one of Mikko’s hands trace the curve of your spine. Another shift of the mattress, and you unabashedly moan into JT’s mouth when you feel the coolness of Mikko’s now lubricated fingers dipping between your ass cheeks.

“You want it, kisu?”

“Yes,” you whine, the single syllable word elongated in need. “Please, Mikko. Please.”

“Hold her still, Comph.”

JT follows your boyfriend’s orders, keeping his hold around your hips tight as Mikko’s fingers circle the ring of your ass, the skin now slick with saliva, your own arousal, and lube. When he deems you ready, the tip of his index finger presses into you. You moan, breaths becoming more rapid which JT notices. His lips connect to your neck to relax you, no doubt being able to feel your pulse jumping underneath your skin.

“Good, kulta?”

You can only nod frantically, the sensation driving you insane. Mikko chuckles, returning to slowly work you open, gently thrusting his hand until another finger slips in. The curse and whimpers fall from your lips freely at the dual sensation of Mikko in your ass and JT still seated deeply in your pussy. It is so much… and yet at the same time, not enough.

Your hands card through JT’s hair, pulling him away from the column of your throat, his dark eyes reconnecting with your lust-blown pupils.

“Move, J. Please.”

You see the barest nod of JT’s head before he is readjusting his hold on you, softly and slowly thrusting his hips up to meet yours. There is no stopping the downright pornographic moans that fall from you at the sensation of being stuffed to the brim by two absolutely beautiful humans. It makes your eyes roll back, your body tremble, your pussy flood. And when Mikko manages to slip a third finger past the rim of you, you shriek, your orgasm hitting you with the force of an oncoming train. Your whole body stills, eyes squeezed tight, mouth open wide as you let the waves of pleasure rush through you, groans emanating from both men at the feeling of both holes clenching.

“God damn,” JT curses. “Didn’t think this cunt could get any tighter. Fuck, sweetheart.”

“Y’gonna flood that cunt, J?”

Your boyfriend’s voice brings you back, his question making a new wave of heat flow through your already molten veins. You blindly start to press kisses against the column of JT’s throat, working your way up until your lips hover at the shell of his ear.

“Please. Wanna feel you. Wanna filled with you.”

Your desperate pleas make JT’s hips thrust a little faster, the sensitivity from your previous orgasm making your body go lax. Mikko’s hand disappears from your ass, his other hand coming to gently wrap around your throat, pulling your body upright. You gladly let yourself be manipulated, gladly drink in the sight of JT below you: his brow furrowed, his pink lips swollen from your kisses, his pale skin marked with the love bites that you had left.

You hear JT’s breath hitch in his throat, his head being tossed back against the pillows and you whine at the feeling of his warmth spilling into you. Mikko swallows your noises by kissing you, his hand staying against your throat. A possessive necklace, a reminder that just because he let JT have you, you were still his. A fact that you would never deny.

The two of you eventually break away from the each other, eyes darting down to the redhead still left panting on the mattress.

“Holy fuck, sweetheart,” he gasps and you let a soft giggle escape you at his exclamation.

Mikko’s hands depart from your body, his weight departing from the mattress at the same time. The lack of support causes your fall, coming to rest on the sheets beside JT, his brown eyes gazing at you, hand gently stroking the outside of your thigh.

“You are so… amazing. You know that?”

“Wouldn’t mind hearing it again,” you tease, JT’s own grin appearing in response to yours. He leans in to kiss you, his movements now softer and gentler than all the previous and you can’t help the way you melt into him. A different pair of calloused fingertips appear on your skin and you pull away from JT to see your boyfriend standing over you. His hand dips between your thighs, a simultaneous moan coming from you at the feeling of your soaked core, JT’s cum falling from your folds.

“Want more, kisu?”

“Always.” 

“So needy. Ready to spread those legs open for anyone.”

“As long as I get to have you too,” you whine, Mikko’s fingers still softly tracing your pussy. Mikko leans down, his large body hovering over you as he captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

“You’ll always have me, rakkaani.”

The quiet testament warms you from the inside out and you feel his arms slide against your skin, one slipping under your thighs, the other under your waist. You gasp as he uses his impressive strength to lift you off the mattress, your own arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers teasing his golden curls. Mikko walks across the plush carpet before sinking back into the armchair, gently manipulating your body so your back is once again pressed against his chest.

You moan as his strong hands toss your thighs over each of his own legs, spreading you open, putting you on display. Your ass presses against the hardness of him and you shiver in anticipation when you realize what’s coming. Mikko’s hand – the one that had not been previously buried in your ass – traces down your body, coming to dance over your cunt, groaning at the ease in which his skin slips against yours.

“How does she look, Comph?”

The name draws your attention back to the bed, JT now sitting upright, eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“So pretty. Love seeing that cunt drip.”

His vulgar words cause your pussy to clench, no doubt making more of your arousal and JT’s previous release seep from you. Mikko moans at the sensation of it on his fingers, gently guiding the moisture downwards.

“Ready to show J how good you can be?” Mikko mutters, his words just loud enough for JT to hear.

You watch as his eyes follow the path of your boyfriend’s fingers, his eyebrows jumping when the implication hits him. You nod your head, your own hand reaching between your thighs as Mikko lifts you up. It’s easy to find and wrap your hand around Mikko’s already slick length, holding it steady as he spreads you open, lining up before gently pressing into you. Your whole body shudders at the sensation of him sinking into you, his gentle voice reminding you to breathe. You follow his commands, forcing yourself to relax as you stretch to accommodate his considerable length, your eyes rolling back. Eventually, Mikko stills, fully sheathed inside of you, hips flush against your ass as your core clenches around nothing.

“Fuck, I can see why you wanted to keep her to yourself,” JT curses.

“Gonna be thinking about this tomorrow night during the game?” Mikko teases, the traded quips allowing you time to get used to the feeling of him seated deep within you.

“Don’t know how I’ll be able to think about anything else.”

You feel Mikko bury his face in your hair, hot breath hitting your skin, his next words for only you to hear.

“That’s the whole idea.”

A quick huff of laugher escapes you, your boyfriend’s competitive nature coming forward. You both loved JT but he was indeed the enemy now.

You turn your head to mouth at Mikko’s neck, muttering a quiet plea into his skin – one that Mikko hears and responds to immediately. His hands grip the back of your thighs, slightly lifting your hips as his own start to gently pulse. Your moans echo around the bedroom, every press of Mikko within you causing your core to clench, more arousal spilling from you, additional lubricant for the obscene show. Your gaze catches JT’s stare fixed on where you and Mikko are connected, watching intently like this was something out of porno – one meant just for him. Which, in a way, it was.

You whine, hand reaching out to JT. This was his homecoming after all and although you were sure he loved the view, you didn’t want him to feel left out. JT slides off the bed and walks over, his lithe frame standing in front of you.

“Such a pretty little thing,” the redhead murmurs, his hands dancing across your chest. Mikko’s teeth gently graze the juncture of your neck and shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

“He’s right, kisu. You’re always so good for me, so perfect.”

Their praise makes you moan. JT’s fingertips tracing down your body and eventually connecting to your soaked core makes you gasp.

His calloused skin collects your slick before slowly pushing into your core, moaning at the tightness of you around his fingers. Your hand shoots out, holding his wrist in an almost vice-like grip. You aren’t quite sure whether you mean to push him away, on the verge of overstimulation, or encourage him to keep going. But when you open your eyes and see those deep chocolate brown pools staring at you, you tug his wrist forward. A silent encouragement.

JT leans down, pressing his lips against yours as his fingers gently curl within you, your moans falling into his open mouth as he swallows every sound. Mikko’s breath is still hot against your skin, Finnish praise and guttural groans falling from his lips as he continues to thrust into you, his rhythm increasing. Your free hand comes to tangle in his blonde curls, holding him against your neck while your other hand releases JT’s wrist, reaching further. You finally manage to grab a hold of his cock, a hiss falling from JT as you softly stroke the skin.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines against your lips, seemingly on the verge of overstimulation himself.

“Please J, just one more. Let me take care of you, please.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your gentle words or your movements against his erection that causes JT to nod, letting you toy with him as he continues the movement of his fingers inside you. You recapture his lips in yours, your attention torn between your boyfriend’s hands on your skin, his cock stuffed in your ass, and JT’s hand pressed against your core. The ginger doesn’t seem to mind your sloppy handjob, moaning into your mouth anyway as you kiss him.

It isn’t long until Mikko’s grip adjusts, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you impossibly closer to him as his hips find an almost brutish pace, gasps and whimpers falling freely from your lips. JT gently removes his hand from your core before gently knocking your hand away from him. He takes a single step back, eyes returning to drink in the sight of both you and Mikko as your head lolls, your third orgasm of the night fast approaching. It only takes a few more pulses of Mikko’s hips before he falters, his teeth digging into the flesh of your shoulder as his orgasm hits him. The sharp sensation of his teeth coupled with the warmth of his release spilling into your ass causes you to cum. Every muscle in your body clenches, from your jaw down to between your thighs as the waves of pleasure roll over you.

Eventually, the intensity subsides, your thighs pleasantly shaking as your staccato breathing slows. Your eyes open to see JT still standing in front of you, his own hand now pumping his length. You smile up at him, sighing when you feel Mikko’s tongue laving over the indents that his teeth left in your skin, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your hipbones.

“JT, please,” you whisper, your voice slightly hoarse from your previous moans. “Want you to come. Wanna feel you on my skin.”

That seems to be all the encouragement JT needs, his hand now moving faster, small hisses and groans falling from his lips. He leans over you and Mikko, his free hand gripping the back of the chair to hold himself steady, eyes closing in overstimulated pleasure. You reach your hand upwards, cupping his jaw, your gentle touch drawing his gaze to you. You let your fingers brush through his beard, a small part of you wondering how pretty it would look drenched in your release. Your thumb moves to his mouth, pink and swollen from your previous kisses. A soft press against his plush bottom lip makes JT’s mouth fall open. You smile, softly guiding your thumb in, pressing against the firm muscle of his tongue.

“Perkele,” you hear Mikko curse from behind you and watch those brown eyes dart over towards your boyfriend, no doubt staring at JT like he was a meal. There’s no telling if your finger in his mouth or Mikko’s gaze is the final nail in the coffin but you find that you don’t care when JT’s eyes clench shut, gasps falling from him as you feel the warmth of him splattering against your stomach.

JT comes down, his chest heaving as he finds the strength to lift himself upright, your hand falling from his mouth as his eyes take in the sight of his cum on your skin. You smile, fingers still wet from his spit as you trace up your stomach, collecting the creamy release before lifting your hand to dip into your own mouth. A moan falls from you at the now familiar taste of JT against your tongue as you lick them clean.

“Does he taste good, kisu?” Mikko asks and you turn your head to stare into his blue eyes.

“Mmhmm. You wanna taste?”

Your boyfriend nods his head and your fingers dip down to once again collect JT’s cum. This time however, you hold out your lifted hand towards Mikko, who gladly takes you into his mouth. A moan falls from him as he suckles your fingers, his own tongue dancing over every inch of skin.

“You two are going to be the death me.”

You giggle at JT’s words, a repetition of the statement he spoke earlier, your gaze and hand falling from Mikko. Your eyes leap up to meet JT’s, his own head slightly shaking in disbelief, a crooked smile playing on his lips.

“Welcome back to Denver.”

“Best fucking homecoming I could’ve asked for.”

Translations (from Reddit & Google) Kisu/mirri: kitten [used for very sexy women] Kulta: baby/honey Rakkaani: my darling Perkele: shit/fuck Niin vitun hyvä: so fucking good

a/n 2.0: I do have a kind of funny/cute epilogue that I didn't include but I can post it if any of y'all are interested.

taglist: @laurenairay @fallinallincurls @svexhenthusiast also tagging @smileysvech because - as she said when this was first mentioned - this is very niche and has such a specific target audience (her)

sign up for my taglist here!

[waterfire1848]

Au where Zuko also is a prodigy + has white flames

Hello, anon!!

When Zuko is born, he's born as a powerful bender. Ozai is very happy to see a strong flame in his son and it keeps Zuko from being in danger of being killed. Zuko is allowed to be a normal kid for a few years (because Ozai knows an infant isn't going to firebend) and Ursa tries to raise him as best she can but Ozai is also pretty much there from the start which keeps Zuko from fully learning from his mom like he did in the show. Instead, Ozai raises Zuko and Azula to be mini versions of himself and since Zuko is also a prodigy now, Ozai has two weapons who want to earn his favor. Ursa, again, tries to do what she can for her children but there isn't much that can be done once Ozai gets his hooks in them. (Azula: Zuzu! Look what I learned! *Does a kata* Zuko: Yawn. I learned that move five weeks ago, Lala. And I got it down in one session. Azula: That's impossible! No one can master it that fast. Zuko: Well, I am father's oldest prodigy. The one who will be taking over for him one day. I think you are....Oh, how did that general put it? The spare. The forgotten child. Azula, angry: Yeah, well-have you learn the Flying Dragon move yet? Zuko:.....I'm going to very soon. Azula: I've already started. Zuko: I'll have it mastered by the end of the week. Azula: A move so complex even uncle struggled with it? I'm sure.)

When Lu Ten is killed and Ozai asks for the throne, Azulon orders him to kill Azula because Zuko is the older child, male, and a prodigy as well (Azula is powerful, yes, but Ursa and Ozai can always have another kid as far as Azulon is concerned since they already had two prodigies. The new child will just be a bit younger than their older brother. Nothing that would seriously hurt the family in the long run). Azula panics and flees to her mother, begging her for any kind of help. Ursa makes the same deal she does in canon but this time, since she did it for Azula and Ozai agreed to kill her, Azula starts to wonder if her father really is as amazing as she once believed him to be. She spends the next few years starting to doubt her father more and more but keeping quiet because she's not an idiot. There is no Agni Kai scene since Zuko never speaks out. Ozai raised him here. If anything, he would be congratulating the general on his plan. Rather, Ozai keeps both him and Azula around to train until they are 14 and 16 which is when Azula gets her blue fire and Zuko gets his white flames. (Zuko: White flames are better. Azula: Huh? That's interesting. I could have sworn blue fire burned hotter than white. Zuko: Just means you're going to burn out before me.)

Aang is still broken out of the ice by Katara and Azula is sent after them (because...again spare heir). Azula eventually catches up to them and pretty much partakes in Zuko's role in canon except she had the authority to throw Zhao off a boat. But, since Aang is constantly slipping through her fingers, Ozai takes her off of the mission and puts Zhao in charge. Azula, not wanting to fail in her first mission outside the Fire Nation, ignores her father's order to return home and follows the Avatar to the North Pole. Zhao still murders the moon (Azula: How did this man become an admiral?) and is then killed by the ocean spirit. Azula fails in getting the Avatar again but refuses to stop in her mission, making it clear to the team that she is still after them. Meanwhile, Ozai realizes Azula is not returning and sends Zuko after the Avatar and her. (Ozai: Azula is a failure. I have a task for you, my son. Capture the Avatar and your sister and bring them here. Do you understand? Zuko: I do, father.)

Zuko and Azula quickly start competing with one another to try and capture Aang. Zuko had more resources behind him since Ozai isn’t currently mad at him, but Azula has more experience fighting Aang (basically Zuko gets taken out by airbending and waterbending more than Azula does). Now, because both siblings trained under Ozai they’re both incredibly smart as well as powerful. Zuko knows Azula is going to get Mai and Ty Lee and decides to recruit Mai before Azula can get to her, so it becomes Azula and Ty Lee vs Mai and Zuko for who can capture Aang first. When Ba Sing Se comes around, both siblings have the idea to sneak in but while Azula and Ty Lee sneak in with the Kyoshi Warrior disguises, Zuko and Mai sneak in as refugees. In the upper ring with the Gaang, Azula believes she had the advantage and decides to act and capture Katara. Her plan is to use Katara as bait and then attack and capture Aang when he comes to free her. Meanwhile, Zuko and Mai are in the lower ring and make their way up to the upper ring while chatting which is when Mai realizes that the Zuko she knew is kinda gone. Zuko at 10 and Zuko at 16 are two very different people after 6 years under Ozai. She tries not to let it bother her but it’s very clear. Eventually, the final fight breaks out and ends with Azula aiming the lightning at Aang but Zuko, who refuses to let Azula win, takes the lightning blast and sends it back at her. The blast is strong enough to disorient everyone and knock Aang out, who is quickly captured by Zuko. He and Mai flee the city before they can be stopped leaving the Gaang without an Avatar (thankfully in a still standing Ba Sing Se) but with a captured Royal and acrobat.

Ozai isn’t happy. Zuko’s job was to bring Azula back but instead he just did half of his job. Zuko tries to argue that Azula is taken care of since she’s in enemy hands. (Zuko: I give her a week before they kill her for not giving up information. Ozai: I didn’t ask for the Earth Kingdom to kill her. I asked you to bring her back! Zuko: Father, please, I….I thought it would be a good idea for the war. Ozai: Explain. Zuko: Sozin’s Comet is coming soon but we haven’t been seeing a spike in morale- Ozai: You’re too concerned with regular soldiers, Zuko. Zuko: I know, but hear me out. How would citizens feel when they find out the enemy murdered the princess? The princess who was trying to save her nation from Ba Sing Se’s tyranny gave her life to defend the Fire Nation. Ozai:….Hmmmm. I will consider this. It’s not a horrible idea. You’re dismissed. Zuko: Thank you, father.) Meanwhile, Azula is very much alive and pissed at Zuko for abandoning her in the city. The Gaang knows they have to get Aang back if they want any shot at ending the war and, to do that, they have to get into the Fire Nation. Thankfully, they just so happen to know a familiar princess who knows the nation like the back of her hand. The Gaang make a deal with Azula and Ty Lee: they help them get into the Fire Nation in exchange for saving them from Earth Kingdom execution. Azula initially refuses, saying she doesn’t want to betray her father or her nation. However, it becomes clear to her that this might actually be a blessing, a way to return to the Fire Nation with the Avatar’s team, capture them all and stop the eclipse invasion: three birds with one stone. After talking to Ty Lee, Azula agrees and the five head off towards the Fire Nation.

[ganondoodle]

i dont know what the plan is now, i have never had a plan for anything, but i dont want to delete the previous posts bc it feels like im trying to sweep things under the rug or act like they didnt happen

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[ozcarma]

If all the AI fragments could each take an animal form what animals do you think they’d take?

furries of the fandom help me

[robinsnest2111]

sorry for disappearing. I promised I wouldn't do that again but it's always the thing I fall back on in desperate times. idk how to stop doing that

I'm just so tired and in pain, I wanna lay down and cry and never get back up again

[autisticlee]

everyone likes to tell me that real friends exist, the right people for me exist, i'll find them, I just have to look, keep trying. etc.

but no one tells me how, where to look, or how to know who "the right people" even are!

not to mention the fact that I'm getting too old to "make friends" because it's mainly expected of kids/teens to do that. older adults are supposed to have their people already. most adults my age already have their established friend groups that i'm not allowed to join. or they're all pairing off and prefer their partners over friends. or I just simply can't relate or bond with them because we have nothing in common.

[voiceshearingyouloud]

Finally properly sobbing after not being able to cry all day is such a great feeling

[dream-sans-mogai]

Anyway, because I'm considered a bigger creator within the mogai community and I have a responsibility to address things given my bigger audience-

Please remember that Tumblr, especially LGBT Tumblr concerning discourse and intracommunity issues, is a hyper niche, reactive, violent, sensitive community with next to zero basis in reality at large and you should not take any of its opinions as absolute fact. Especially the mogai community's opinions.

A lot of people on mogai Tumblr talk big game with very clearly fake the-whole-bus-clapped stories about the real world concerning acceptance towards mspec monos, Neopronouns and Xenogenders and it's my job as an adult and guiding voice to remind people these experiences may happen but rarely do and you absolutely should not just tell random people you use purr/purrs pronouns or your a bi gaybian or you identify as Chronosian or other things like that because it's really fucking dangerous even in hyper progressive places like new york, cali and Detroit. It can be deadly in many many small towns, including ones in progressive states. Especially dangerous in non accepting states.

I don't say this to burst your bubble or ruin your hopeful world view but many stories of acceptance are fake, even if some are true, most of the community is underage and just cause your teacher may approve of your Soniccharic identity, doesn't mean they won't tell your transphobic parents. It's scary and dangerous out here for trans and gay people rn and I won't be one of the idiots who tell you to run and frolic with your Xenogender pins Infront of increasingly hostile transphobes. I want the younger gen z trans people to survive and I won't lie to you about the reality of the battle we all are staring down concerning project 2025.

Most of the people telling these stories live in progressive states and do not tell you about the failed times or exaggerate the acceptance they supposedly received. I'm telling you from the mouth of someone who grew up in a tiny town in South Ohio with less than 1,000 people, it's still just as dangerous as it was 10 years ago. I still get followed in my home town. I still get stares in my home town. My actual home town, a place I grew up in where people knew me as the gnc dyke for a good while in my last 2 years of school. Do not spread this shit around to everyone. Nex didn't think they would become a victim, Brianna didn't think she would be one of the unlucky ones, plenty of those we've lost did not think they would die in hate crimes. I almost died in two of the hate crimes I've experienced.

You need to be really fucking careful and although I love than Neopronouns and Xenogenders are becoming more accepted by the larger LGBT community, you need to be very very VERY careful about what you do, what you wear and who you tell what because word spreads fast in suburbia and hate spreads faster. You do not want to be wearing a pin the day some white cishet magat decides he's tired of the "pedophiles" and chooses you as the first victim because you were the first he saw. Don't hide who you are but Be. Fucking. Careful.