#the firm hold of her arms around his chest

[moonlightwritingf1]

Good Girl | LN4

✨ summary ━━━━━━━ A quiet night in takes an unexpected turn when Y/n decides to spice things up, leading to a heated and intimate encounter that deepens her connection with Lando in ways neither of them anticipated.

✨ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

✨ word count ━━━━━━━ 5.4k

✨ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, unprotected sex, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), creampie

Based on this request.

The soft light of the TV flickered across the room, highlighting the sharp lines of Lando’s jaw and the gentle curve of Y/n’s lips. The movie they’d seen a dozen times before played in the background, its dialogue drowned out by the quiet hum of the city outside her apartment. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering skyline of London, but neither of them was looking at the view.

Y/n sat cross-legged on the couch, her body turned slightly toward Lando, though her gaze was fixed on the screen. She couldn’t focus. Not when his hand rested casually on her thigh, his thumb absently tracing small circles over the fabric of her leggings. It was maddening, that touch—light enough to tease, heavy enough to make her pulse quicken. She shifted, pretending to adjust her position, but the truth was she wanted to feel more of him. Needed it.

Lando, ever the observant one, noticed. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back into the cushions, his eyes never leaving her. ��You good?” he asked, his voice low and laced with amusement.

“Fine,” she replied quickly, her tone clipped. Too clipped. She hated how easily he could unravel her composure. She prided herself on being strong, unshakable, but around him? That facade crumbled like sand slipping through her fingers.

He chuckled softly, the sound sending warmth pooling low in her stomach. “You’re not fine. You keep fidgeting.” His hand slid higher on her thigh, just enough to make her breath hitch. “What’s on your mind, love?”

She opened her mouth to protest, to deflect, but something in his gaze stopped her. Those piercing blue/green eyes saw right through her, always had. He knew her better than anyone else ever had, and it terrified her. But tonight… tonight she didn’t want to fight it. Tonight, she wanted to give in.

Swallowing hard, Y/n moved suddenly, shifting her body until she was straddling his lap. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and for a moment, his playful smirk faltered, replaced by something darker, hungrier. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, her fingers brushing against the base of his neck as she leaned in close, her lips hovering just above his ear.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I wanna be a good girl for you.”

Lando froze, his breath catching audibly in his throat. She felt the tension ripple through his body, his hands tightening instinctively on her waist. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, strained. “Y/n…”

Her heart hammered in her chest as she pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, and she could see the hunger there, the barely restrained need. It mirrored her own. “Say it,” she urged, her voice soft but firm. “Tell me.”

For a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself, his jaw clenching as if holding back a flood of words. Then, slowly, his hands slid up her sides, his thumbs brushing teasingly against the underside of her breasts. “You want to be good for me?” he murmured, his tone dripping with intent.

She nodded, biting her lower lip to stifle the whimper threatening to escape.

His smirk returned, sharper this time, more predatory. “Then take this off,” he said, tugging lightly at the hem of her oversized sweater. His voice was a command, but his touch was gentle, almost reverent.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the hem of her sweater, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside. The cool air of the apartment kissed her skin, raising goosebumps along her arms. Beneath, she wore only a simple black bralette, its lace detailing doing little to hide the hardened peaks of her nipples.

Lando’s eyes raked over her, his gaze burning with an intensity that made her thighs clench. “Beautiful,” he breathed, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples through the delicate fabric.

She gasped, arching into his touch, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Lando…”

“Shh,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss just below her jaw. “Let me take care of you.”

His lips trailed down her neck, each kiss sending sparks of electricity racing through her veins. His hands left her breasts, moving instead to her hips, gripping her firmly as he guided her movements. “Ride me,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Slow. I want to feel all of you.”

Her breath hitched, the air between them thick with anticipation. Her fingers trembled as they found the button of his jeans, her movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s hands rested on her hips, steadying her, but he didn’t rush her. He let her take control, his gaze locked on hers, dark and unyielding. She undid the button, then the zipper, her fingertips brushing against the waistband of his boxers. The fabric gave way easily, and she reached inside, wrapping her hand around him. He wasn’t fully hard yet, but the weight of him in her palm sent a shiver down her spine. She could feel him stirring under her touch, responding to her closeness, her warmth. “You’re so soft,” she murmured, almost to herself, her thumb tracing the length of him. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to make his breath catch. Lando’s grip tightened on her hips, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep still. “Keep going,” he urged, his voice rough, strained. “Don’t stop.” She obeyed, shifting slightly to straddle him more fully. Her hand moved slowly, up and down, her touch firm but gentle. She watched his face, the way his eyelids fluttered, the way his lips parted as his breathing grew uneven. With every stroke, she felt him grow harder, thicker, until he was fully erect in her hand. “There you are,” she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips. She leaned forward, her chest brushing against his, her breath warm against his ear. “All for me.” His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Y/n…” Her name came out as a groan, low and desperate.

She hesitated for only a moment before shifting off his lap, her legs trembling slightly as she stood. Lando’s hands lingered on her hips, his grip firm, as if reluctant to let her go. His gaze followed her every movement, dark and unyielding, a silent command that made her pulse race. She reached for the waistband of her leggings, her fingers fumbling with the fabric.

“Let me see you,” Lando said, his voice low and gravelly, his eyes never leaving her. His words were quiet but heavy, a quiet demand that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/n’s breath hitched as she tugged the leggings down her legs, letting them pool at her feet. She stepped out of them, her bare skin exposed to the cool air of the apartment. Her hands hovered at the edges of her lace underwear, her cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and hesitation.

“All of it,” Lando murmured, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. His lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he watched her.

She nodded, swallowing hard as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and slid them down to join her leggings on the floor. Completely bare now, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her, searing every inch of her skin. 

Her breath hitched as she leaned over, pulling open the drawer of the coffee table. Her fingers brushed against the smooth foil of the condom wrapper, its cool texture grounding her in the moment. She retrieved it with trembling hands, the faint crinkle of the packaging breaking the quiet tension in the room.

Sliding back into position, she tore the wrapper open with practiced care, the latex smooth and cool as she rolled it down his length. Her touch was deliberate, almost reverent, her fingers steadying as she ensured everything was perfectly in place.

Lando let out a sharp exhale, his grip tightening on her hips, his fingertips pressing into her skin with a possessive intensity. His gaze locked onto hers, dark and unwavering, the weight of his desire clear in every breath.

"There you are," she murmured, her voice a mix of satisfaction and playful confidence as she leaned closer, her lips hovering near his. "All protected. All mine." She then stood still for a moment, letting him take her in, before stepping forward again and settling back onto his lap.

Then, rising up on her knees, she positioned herself over him, her body trembling with anticipation. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, she sank down onto him, her breath catching as he filled her completely. A soft moan escaped her lips as she settled into his lap, her thighs pressing against his. Their bodies fit together perfectly, as if they were made for this, for each other.

Lando’s head fell back against the couch, a guttural sound escaping his throat. His hands gripped her hips tightly, guiding her movements as she began to rock against him. “Fuck, Y/n…” he breathed, his voice ragged. “Just like that.” She moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him inside her, the way he stretched her, filled her. Her hips rising and falling with deliberate precision, each motion drawing a low groan from Lando’s throat. His hands gripped her waist, guiding her rhythm, but his eyes were fixed on her chest, the way her breasts swayed with every movement. The black lace bralette clung to her skin, barely containing her as she rocked against him.

“Take it off,” he commanded, his voice rough, almost guttural. His fingers traced the edge of the fabric, teasing but not touching. “I want to see you.” Her breath hitched, but she obeyed without hesitation. Reaching behind her back, she unhooked the clasp and let the bralette fall away, exposing herself fully to him. Her nipples hardened instantly under his gaze, the cool air brushing against her sensitive skin. Lando’s eyes darkened, his lips parting as he drank in the sight of her. “Fuck, Y/n…” His hands slid up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. “Play with them for me.” Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t hesitate. Bringing her hands to her chest, she pushed her breasts together, her fingers pinching and rolling her nipples as she continued to move on top of him. The sensation sent sparks racing through her body, her moans growing louder with each passing second.

Lando watched her intently, his breathing ragged, his grip tightening on her hips. “That’s it, love. Just like that.” His voice was thick with praise, and it only spurred her on further. She loved this—loved how much control he had over her, how much pleasure he could draw from her with just his words. Leaning forward, Lando captured one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cry out. His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, alternating between gentle licks and sharp pulls that had her trembling above him. His free hand reached up to tease her other breast, his fingers mimicking the motions of his mouth. Y/n was a mess, her movements becoming erratic as pleasure coiled tight in her core. “Lando… oh god…” she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him. “I can’t… I can’t…” “You can,” he growled against her skin, his teeth grazing her nipple before soothing it with his tongue. “You’re doing so well for me, Y/n. Such a good girl.” His praise sent a shiver down her spine, her body responding instinctively to his words. She loved this—loved being obedient for him, loved how he made her feel wanted, cherished, *his*. Her pace quickened, her hips rolling in a rhythm that had them both gasping for air, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony.But as the tension built, her pace quickened, her hips rolling in a rhythm that had them both gasping for air. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body arching as pleasure coiled tight in her core. “Lando…” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she clung to him. “I… I can’t…” “Yes, you can,” he growled, his hands tightening on her hips, urging her on. “Come for me, love. Let go.” And she did. With a cry, her body shuddered, waves of pleasure crashing over her as she fell apart in his arms. Lando followed soon after, his own release tearing through him with a force that left him breathless, his grip on her hips bruising as he held her close. For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies still connected, their breaths mingling in the quiet room. Then, slowly, Y/n collapsed against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath.

Lando’s grip on her hips loosened as she slumped against him, their chests rising and falling in unison, the heat of their bodies still mingling in the air. His fingers brushed the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead, tucking them behind her ear with a gentleness that contrasted the intensity of moments before. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he shifted beneath her, his hands guiding her hips just enough so he could slip out of her. The sensation made her shudder, a faint whimper escaping her lips as she remained draped over him.

His eyes stayed on her as he reached between them, his fingers deftly rolling the condom down and off. He tied it quickly at the top, a practiced motion, before tossing it aside onto the carpet, the quiet thud barely audible over the sound of their breathing. Y/n didn’t move from his lap, her legs still straddling him, her body still trembling faintly from the aftershocks.

Lando’s arms wrapped around her again, pulling her closer as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. His hands trailed up her back, fingertips tracing the curve of her spine, his touch soothing yet possessive, as if to remind her she was still his, even in the quiet aftermath.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice filled with both awe and tenderness. “Every time, you amaze me.”

Y/n smiled faintly, her eyelids growing heavy as she let her head rest against his shoulder. “I just… wanted to be a good girl for you.”

He chuckled softly, his chest rumbling beneath her. “Oh, love,” he said, his tone laced with affection, “you’re more than good. You’re perfect.”

The room was still steeped in the heavy, sated air of their lovemaking. Y/n’s skin was still flush with warmth, her body humming with the echoes of pleasure that Lando had drawn from her. His fingers traced lazy patterns along her spine, the touch so light it felt like a whisper, yet it sent shivers cascading down her back. She pressed herself closer to him, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of her own thoughts.

Lando’s hand paused at the base of her neck, his fingers curling gently around her nape. His lips brushed against the top of her head, the gesture tender but laced with something more—something possessive, something that made her stomach flutter.

“You know what happens to a good girl like you after this?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, the sound of it vibrating through her like a second heartbeat.

She lifted her head slightly, her eyes meeting his. Those blue/green eyes, always so full of mischief and warmth, were dark now, pupils blown wide with something that made her breath catch in her throat. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her lips still tingling from the way he’d kissed her so thoroughly just moments ago.

“She gets spoiled,” he replied, his hands sliding to cradle her face. His thumbs brushed her cheekbones, the touch gentle but deliberate, as if he were memorizing the contours of her face. “Completely spoiled.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, though the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her. “Spoiled how?” she asked, her voice teasing, though the way her pulse quickened under his gaze gave her away.

He leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against hers, their breaths mingling in the short space between them. “First, by me making sure you’re completely taken care of,” he murmured, his tone dripping with promise. “Every muscle relaxed, every part of you feeling nothing but pleasure. And then…” His hands slid down to her lower back, applying just enough pressure to make her arch slightly into his touch. “By showing you exactly how much I adore you—again and again.”

Her breath hitched at his words, a blush creeping up her neck, spreading across her chest. Despite the exhaustion settling in her muscles, she felt a renewed surge of energy, her body already anticipating his next move.

“Lando…” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, caught between disbelief and need.

He grinned, the corners of his mouth curving in that signature playful smirk that always undid her. “Still want to be my good girl?” he asked, his hands moving with deliberate precision, reigniting every dormant nerve ending with his touch.

She nodded, unable to form coherent words as she pressed herself closer to him, her body already answering for her.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with intent. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

And with that, he shifted, his hands gripping her waist as he carefully lifted her off him. She let out a soft gasp as he laid her back against the couch, her body sinking into the plush cushions. 

His eyes stayed locked on hers, unwavering, as he knelt between her thighs. The weight of his gaze was heavy, possessive, and it sent a wave of electricity down her spine. His hands slid up her legs, the calloused pads of his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake, slow and deliberate.

She couldn’t control the shiver that ran through her body, her muscles tensing then relaxing under his touch. His smirk crept back, wicked and knowing, as his eyes darkened. The air between them thickened, charged with a tension that made her pulse quicken, her body instinctively arching toward his.

“Spread for me,” he commanded, his voice firm but soft, the kind of tone that made her body obey before her mind could catch up.

She did as he asked, her legs falling open, her heart pounding in her chest as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the inside of her thigh. His breath was warm against her skin, and she could feel the heat of him, the promise of what was to come.

“Lando…” she breathed, her hands gripping the pillows beneath her, her body already trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his lips trailing higher, closer, until he was right there, his breath ghosting over her most sensitive spot. “Let me take care of you.”

His tongue darted out, a soft, teasing lick that made her hips jerk off. He chuckled darkly, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her in place. “Stay still,” he ordered, his voice low and rough, the kind of tone that sent sparks racing through her veins.

She bit her lip, trying to obey, but it was impossible when his mouth was on her, his tongue working her in slow, deliberate strokes that had her moaning within seconds. He took his time, savoring her, his tongue flicking and swirling in ways that made her see stars. Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly, but he didn’t falter, didn’t speed up. He kept his pace maddeningly slow, drawing out every ounce of pleasure until she was a writhing, incoherent mess beneath him.

“Please…” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she arched into him, her body trembling on the edge.

His lips pulled away from her with a soft, wet sound, leaving her trembling, her body arching off the couch in desperation. His tongue ran across his bottom lip, savoring her taste, his eyes heavy with a heat that matched her own. Hungry. Unrelenting. His hand moved between his legs, calloused fingers wrapping around the base of his cock with a practiced ease, already semi-hard from how much she’d unraveled beneath him. The sight of her—legs spread, chest heaving, her arousal glistening under the dim light—was enough to make him throb in his own grip.

He began to stroke himself slowly, his eyes locked on hers, his other hand still gripping her thigh, pinning her in place. Every pull of his hand drew a soft groan from his lips, the sound raw and unfiltered, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the way he worked himself, already so hard again. The thick vein running along his length pulsed under the rhythm of his strokes, the taut skin glistening with the same heat that pooled between her thighs.

Her breath hitched, her core clenching in response, and she could feel the dampness trickle down, making her squirm under his gaze. “Lando…” His name came out as a strangled whimper, her hands clutching at the cushions, her hips lifting off the couch as if begging for more.

He smirked, that wicked, confident curve of his lips that always melted her resolve. “What do you want, love?” His voice was low, rough with the edge of lust, but it wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something possessive. His thumb circled the head of his cock, smearing the bead of precum that had gathered there, and she shuddered, her eyes fixated on the motion.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his voice sharp yet so sweet it made her whine. One hand remained on his cock, the other sliding back between her legs, his fingers brushing over her soaked folds, teasing but not giving her what she needed. He pressed one finger against her clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, and her hips bucked, her moan loud and unfiltered.

Her lips parted, her words sluggish, her mind too fogged with want to think straight. “I want… I want you…” Her voice trembled, her gaze flickering between his face and the way his hand moved over himself, each stroke making him harder, more ready for her.

“Where?” he pressed, his fingers dipping between her folds, sliding through her wetness before pulling away again, leaving her clenching around nothing. His hand on his cock tightened, his pace quickening, and she could see the tension building in his body, the way his abs flexed, the corded muscles in his arms straining with every stroke.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, her thighs shaking as she tried to keep herself open for him. “Inside me… please.”

His groan was primal, his body drawn toward hers like a magnet. “Fuck, baby,” he rasped, his breath shallow, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance. But he didn’t push in—not yet. Instead, he let his tip glide along her folds, teasing her clit with every pass, the sensation making her cry out, her hands clawing at the couch cushions.

“Say it again,” he growled, his voice thick with need, his hand still wrapped around himself, squeezing the base of his shaft as if to stop himself from losing control.

“Please, Lando… inside me.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her body trembling with the effort of holding herself together.

He rewarded her with a single thrust, the head of his cock sliding into her just enough to make her feel the stretch, the heat, the sheer size of him. A low moan escaped her lips, and he pulled back, teasing her entrance again, his thumb rubbing her clit in tandem with the slow, torturous glide of his cock.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his pace on his own length faltering as he focused on her, on the way her body reacted to him, the way her hips lifted off the couch, desperate for more. “And so fucking wet.”

He angled his hips, pushing into her again, deeper this time, the stretch making her gasp, her hands flying to his biceps, her nails digging into his skin. “More…” she whimpered, her voice breaking as he retreated again, leaving her clenching around his emptiness.

“You want more, baby?” His voice was pure sin, his lips brushing over her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he teased her with every gentle thrust. “Then show me how much you need me.”

The challenge in his tone made her hips jerk, and she clawed at his back, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him into her. “Please, Lando…” her voice cracked, her body trembling beneath him.

“Good girl,” he rasped, his mouth crashing onto hers, swallowing her moans as he thrust into her fully, filling her completely. “That’s it, love,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “Take it. Take all of me.”

She could only nod, her body arching into his, her nails digging into his back as he drove her higher and higher. The pace was relentless,, his hips snapping against hers with a force that left her breathless. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, every nerve in her body alight with pleasure.

“Lando… I can’t…” she gasped, her body trembling, every muscle coiled tight as the pressure built inside her. Her nails dug into his back, her hips arching desperately against his, chasing the release that hovered just out of reach.

He slowed, pulling back slightly, his breath ragged against her ear. “I’m close,” he growled, his voice thick with restraint. “I need to pull out—”

Her hands shot up, gripping his shoulders tightly, stopping him mid-motion. “No,” she breathed, her voice shaking but firm. “Don’t pull out. Stay inside me.”

Lando froze, his eyes locking onto hers, wide with surprise. This was new—this was *different*. They’d always been careful, always used protection. But now, her words hung in the air between them, raw and unguarded. His chest heaved as he searched her face, his expression a mix of disbelief and something deeper—something possessive, primal.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough, his hips still pressed flush against hers, not daring to move until he had her answer.

She nodded, her lips parting as she fought for breath. “Yes. I want you to… I want all of you.”

A low groan escaped him, his forehead dropping to hers as he cupped her face in his hands. “Fuck, love,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “You have no idea what this means to me. Letting me claim you like this…”

She shivered at his words, her body responding to the intensity in his tone. “Please, Lando,” she begged, her legs tightening around his waist, pulling him deeper. “I need you.”

That was all it took. With a growl, he surged forward, his thrusts growing harder, faster, each one driving her closer to the edge. His hands gripped her hips, holding her steady as he pounded into her, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice dark and commanding. “Take it, love. Take everything I give you.”

Her moans grew louder, her fingers clawing at his back as the tension inside her snapped. She came with a cry, her body convulsing around him, waves of pleasure crashing over her in relentless succession. He followed her over the edge, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside her, his release hot and unrestrained.

For a moment, they stayed like that, locked together, their breaths mingling as they rode out the aftershocks. When he finally pulled back to look at her, his eyes were soft, filled with awe and something that made her heart ache.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Letting me have you like that… trusting me like that. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

She flushed, her cheeks burning, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she nodded, her lips curving into a shy smile. “Yours,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

He kissed her then, slow and deep, his hands cradling her face like she was something precious. And as they lay there, tangled together in the aftermath, she knew she’d never felt more wanted, more cherished, in her life.

She lay boneless beneath him, her body still trembling from the intensity of her release. He carefully pulled out of her and tucked her against his side, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Her body shuddered as she felt him slip out of her, the sensation sending a soft moan from her lips. A warm trickle of his release leaked down her thighs, the evidence of their passion both intimate and primal. Lando’s breath hitched as his gaze locked onto it, his eyes darkening with a mix of possessiveness and raw adoration.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent, as though he couldn’t believe she was here, like this, with him. He reached out, his fingertips brushing lightly against the corner of her wound, tracing the trail with a touch so tender it made her quiver. “Taking me so well. You’re perfect like this.”

She blushed deeply, her skin heating under his gaze, her body still tingling from the intensity of what they’d just shared. She shifted slightly, her legs instinctively pressing together, but his hand stopped her, his touch firm but gentle.“Don’t,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving hers. “Let me see you. Let me take care of you.” 

His praise wrapped around her like a warm embrace, her shyness melting under his unwavering attention. She nodded, her lips trembling as she fought to find her voice. “Lando…” His name came out as a soft plea, a mix of vulnerability and something deeper, something that tied them together in this moment beyond just the physical.

“My good girl,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before trailing his lips down to her cheek, her jaw, her neck. Each kiss felt like a promise, a reaffirmation of everything they’d just shared. “So beautiful. So perfect for me.” He propped himself on his elbow, his fingers brushing away the hair that clung to her damp skin, his gaze softening as he looked at her. 

“I’ve got you, love,” he whispered, his voice steady and sure. “Always.” She snuggled into his side, her body still humming from the intensity of their connection. Her eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion creeping in, but a playful smirk tugged at her lips.

“Two rounds,” she murmured, her voice teasing and light, though it carried a hint of pride. “I got two rounds out of you tonight.”

Lando chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. His hand paused on her arm, his thumb brushing over her skin in slow, lazy circles. “Don’t get too cocky, love. You might’ve worn me out, but I’m not done spoiling you yet.”

Her smirk widened, and she tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Round three, then?”

He groaned, half-laughing, half-exasperated, as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Later,” he promised, his voice thick with amusement. “My dick’s officially retired for the night. Give it a few hours, yeah? Then we’ll see about round three.”

She giggled softly, the sound muffled against his chest as she nestled closer. “Fine. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, his tone warm and affectionate. He pulled the blanket over them, wrapping them both in a cocoon of warmth and safety. His arms tightened around her, holding her close as if he never wanted to let go.

She fell asleep in his embrace, a smile lingering on her lips as she floated on a cloud of contentment. Safe. Loved. Wanted. And though she didn’t know what the morning would bring—whether his tenderness would hold through the night or if the daylight would reveal the cracks in their differences—she allowed herself this moment. This peace. Because right now, wrapped in his arms, she felt like she could conquer anything. Even the uncertainty of tomorrow.

[greengoblinswifey]

Has dadbf Rafe ever gone too far sexually with her? Like maybe she had to use their safe word because she felt overwhelmed? I can see him absolutely crumbling inside knowing he pushed her too far

a/n— dbf!rafe is back, loved this <3 reminds me of the line in 505 by artic monkeys “but I crumble completely when you cry”

Rafe had you pinned beneath him, his hands gripping your wrists above your head. His kisses were rough, heated, everything was fast and relentless. The pressure of his hand on your throat was firm, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, “You’ve been such a brat all week. Thought you could push me and get away with it? Hm slut?”

You tried to respond, but the intensity of his actions made it hard to breathe, not just physically, but emotionally. His body pressed you into the mattress, and his roughness wasn’t the usual thrilling kind. It felt too much, too rough, overwhelming.

“Rafe—” you tried, your voice faint and shaky, but he didn’t catch it as he kept going. You managed to choke out the safe word that you both had agreed upon, your heart racing.

He froze instantly, his grip on your wrists loosening as his eyes darted to yours in alarm. “What?” he whispered.

You swallowed hard, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you repeated the safe word softly, your voice breaking.

He immediately pulled back, his hands releasing you completely as he scrambled off you, sitting on the bed with wide, panicked eyes. “Oh my God, baby, I— I’m so sorry,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

You sat up slowly, wrapping your arms around yourself, trying to steady your breathing. “I just, It was too much. I felt overwhelmed.”

Rafe’s hands were trembling as he reached for you, but then he stopped himself, unsure if you wanted him to touch you. “I didn’t realize—I didn’t mean to—I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.

You nodded, trying to calm both yourself and him. “I know. You stopped when I needed you to. I’m okay now.”

But the look on his face was devastating. He looked like a man who had just shattered something precious. “I should’ve been paying more attention. I—fuck, I hate myself for this,” he muttered, running a hand through his buzzed hair in frustration.

His gentleness returned as he grabbed a blanket and carefully wrapped it around you. “You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice full of regret. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

He stayed beside you, stroking your curls and kissing your forehead as you calmed down. “I’m so so sorry,” he repeated over and over, his voice barely above a whisper.

When it was time to sleep, you turned away, still feeling unsettled. Rafe didn’t push it. He tucked you in, brushing your hair out of your face before whispering, “I love you.” You didn’t respond, and he quietly moved to the chair in the corner, leaving you to rest.

You woke up in the middle of the night to find the space beside you empty. Rafe was sitting on the edge of a chair in the corner, his head in his hands.

“Rafe?” you called softly, sitting up.

His head snapped up, and his face was etched with guilt. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

You climbed out of bed and padded over to him. “What’s wrong?”

He sighed, his shoulders tense. “I feel like shit. I pushed you too hard, and I hurt you. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You knelt in front of him, placing your head on his knees and looking up at him. “Rafe, I’m okay now. You stopped when I needed you to. That’s what matters.”

“It’s not okay,” he said, his voice cracking. “You trust me, and I broke that tonight.”

You shook your head. “No, you didn’t. You listened when I said the safe word. You took care of me. That’s what trust is.”

He still looked unconvinced, so you stood and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek to his chest. His arms came around you slowly, and he exhaled shakily.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured into your curls, holding you tightly.

“I know,” you whispered back, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “I forgive you.”

He kissed you softly and whispered, “I love you,” as his lips trailed along your forehead and cheeks.

“I love you too,” you replied, curling up with him on the bed. This time, when his arms wrapped around you, they felt like home. You both drifted off, holding each other close.

[jungwnies]

F1 GRID | it was never meant to be (2/2) continued...

୨ৎ : featuring : carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : your ex f1 boyfriend regrets letting you go so easily.

୨ৎ : genre : reconcilation, heartbreak, angst, sad themes, moving-on ୨ৎ : tws : moving onto someone else, unforgiveness ୨ৎ : word count : 1491

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

୨ৎ find part one here ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 : buy me a ko-fi ☕️

ʚ・carlos sainz

you were just finishing up at the checkout when the cashier smiled and said, “that man behind you paid for your things.”

you froze, confused. “what? i didn’t ask anyone to—”

“i did,” carlos said, stepping up behind you.

you turned quickly, instantly feeling your frustration rise. “carlos? what are you doing here?”

“i saw you walk in,” he said. “i didn’t mean to surprise you. i just… wanted to talk.”

you shook your head, annoyed. “why would you pay for my stuff? i didn’t ask for your help.”

“i know,” he said quietly. “i didn’t ask, but i wanted to. i’ve been wanting to talk to you. to apologize.”

you felt the anger well up in you again. “you already apologized, carlos. and i’m not interested in hearing it again.”

“i’m not just apologizing,” he said, his voice softer now. “i was wrong. i let myself get caught up in things that weren’t real. i thought i was doing the right thing, but i hurt you. and i’ve regretted it every day since.”

you crossed your arms, holding your bag tightly. “you hurt me, carlos. you chose her. and now it’s too late.”

“i know it’s late,” he said, stepping closer. “but i love you. i never stopped loving you. and i’ll do anything to show you i’m serious. i’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

you looked away, trying to keep your cool. “it’s not that easy. you don’t just get to mess things up and then expect everything to be fine.”

“i don’t expect it to be easy,” he said quickly. “but i want to try. i’ll prove it to you, every day if i have to. please, just let me try.”

you felt a tug in your chest, but you held firm. “fine,” you said finally. “we can try. but i’m not promising anything.”

carlos nodded, relief flooding his face. “thank you. i’ll do whatever it takes.”

as you turned to walk out, you felt a small weight lift off your shoulders. maybe this could work. maybe he could prove he was serious. time would tell.

ʚ・charles leclerc

you hadn’t expected to see charles here, not today. but there he was, standing in front of you, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. the second his eyes met yours, his whole expression changed.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, full of hope and regret.

you crossed your arms, fighting the urge to walk away. “what’s there to talk about? you made your choice.”

he shook his head, his face filled with guilt. “i know i messed up. i’ve thought about this so much. i should’ve chosen you. i’m sorry, i never wanted to hurt you. i never stopped loving you.”

the words felt familiar, like you’d heard them before, but this time, his eyes looked different—genuine. still, you couldn’t ignore what he had done.

“you chose everything else, charles,” you said quietly. “your career, the pressure, the public… and i was just left behind.”

he stepped a little closer, his voice tight with emotion. “i was wrong. i was stupid, and i’ll never forgive myself for it. but i swear, i love you. only you.”

you didn’t say anything at first. his words lingered, and you could feel the weight of everything between you. slowly, the walls around your heart began to crumble. could he really be sorry? could he really change?

weeks passed, and slowly, charles did everything he could to prove that he was serious. he didn’t just talk about how sorry he was—he showed it. he kept reaching out, always there when you needed him, even in the small ways. and bit by bit, you started to let him back in.

one night, after all the time that had passed, you looked at him and realized something. he wasn’t the same. he’d grown. and maybe, just maybe, he deserved a second chance.

“i was an idiot,” he said, his voice raw. “i didn’t know what i had until i lost it. i’ll spend the rest of my life trying to show you i’m the man you deserve.”

you smiled a little, your hand finding his. “maybe you’ve earned it,” you said quietly.

he smiled back, relief flooding his face. for the first time in so long, you both felt like maybe, just maybe, you could start over.

ʚ・lando norris

lando sat alone in his apartment, his gaze fixed on the window as he stared out at the city. the silence around him was suffocating, a constant reminder of everything he had lost. the photos, the headlines, and the moments with her that had slowly become real. he had let it happen, let the illusion become something more. and now, all he had left was regret.

he ran a hand through his hair, the weight of it all pressing down on him. he had promised you it was just for the cameras, a quick pr stunt to keep his image clean. he never meant for it to go this far. but now he knew he had made a mistake—one he couldn’t fix.

it had all slipped away from him so easily. you had been there, always. but he had pushed you aside for something superficial, something he thought was more important. the career, the spotlight, the endless demands from the outside world. he had taken you for granted. and now, he didn’t know how to fix it.

he let out a deep breath, his mind replaying every moment when he had hurt you, when he had chosen her over you. the look in your eyes when you walked away, when you told him that it was too late. he had never wanted to hurt you. but he did. and now, he didn’t know how to make it right.

a part of him knew he didn’t deserve forgiveness. he had failed you in every way possible. and now, he was left with the bitter taste of realizing just how much he had messed up. he had chosen everything else over you, and now, there was nothing left to choose from.

he sank into the couch, his head in his hands. there was no turning back. he had made his choice, and now, he had to live with it. but the thought of never having you again, of losing you for good—it was a pain he couldn’t escape.

it was too late. he had let you go, and now he had to suffer the consequences.

ʚ・oscar piastri

oscar sat in the corner of the driver’s lounge, his eyes fixed on the floor, hands running through his hair in frustration. lando noticed immediately and walked over, plopping down in the chair across from him. “what’s going on, mate? you look like you’ve been run over.”

oscar scoffed, shaking his head. “i screwed up, lando. i lost her… and i don’t even know how.”

lando raised an eyebrow. “what do you mean? what happened?”

oscar’s voice was heavy with regret. “i thought i could handle everything—media, sponsors, the pr stuff. but i got too caught up in it, and now… she’s gone. and i don’t think she’s coming back.”

lando’s face hardened. “so you went for the pr stunt, huh? you really thought you could juggle it all and not hurt her?”

oscar’s hands tightened into fists. “i didn’t mean for it to happen like that. i thought it was just for the cameras. but i started caring about her—more than i should’ve. and now i’m stuck with this mess.”

lando leaned forward, shaking his head. “you’re an idiot, oscar.”

oscar looked up in shock. “what?”

“you heard me,” lando said, voice firm. “you let the world tell you who you were supposed to be. you let her go thinking you could keep playing the game. and now? you’re alone. because you didn’t fight for her.”

oscar’s throat tightened. “i didn’t want it to go this far, lando. i tried to make it work, but… i messed up.”

lando crossed his arms, glaring at him. “yeah, you messed up. you had the chance, but you blew it. you could’ve stopped it, but you didn’t. you let it slip away.”

oscar’s chest tightened, the weight of it hitting him. “what do i do now?”

lando sighed. “nothing you can do now, mate. you made your choice, and now you have to live with it.”

oscar sank back in his chair, the realization settling in. “i don’t deserve another chance, do i?”

lando shook his head. “no, you don’t. but maybe you’ll learn something from this. just don’t make the same mistake again.”

oscar stared at the floor, the guilt gnawing at him. he had taken it all for granted. and now, there was no going back. the silence stretched between them, and he knew lando was right—he couldn’t fix this. he had lost you, and the consequences were his to bear.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[mrsarnold]

ekko x fem!reader(in a relationship) where they’re reunited after the war (maybe she’s sister to vi and jinx) and he’s comforting her bc jinx is gone (SHES ALIVE i say as i’m dragged to a hospital) 🫣

i miss you, im sorry . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

syn : in the request

pair : ekko x fem!reader

warn : pure fluff, crying, mentions of death..

note : im sorry this took so ling to get out

The aftermath of the war weighed heavy, the acrid smell of smoke still lingering in the air. You stood in the corner of an abandoned building, your arms wrapped around yourself as you stared blankly at the shattered skyline of Zaun. The city felt emptier now, a graveyard of what it once was.

“Hey,” a voice called gently behind you, familiar and grounding. Ekko.

You didn’t turn at first, unable to will yourself to move. Your heart ached too much. The guilt, the loss, and the unbearable truth of what happened to Jinx—your sister—pressed down on your chest like a vice.

“She’s gone,” you whispered, voice breaking, your throat raw from holding back tears. “She’s gone, Ekko. I couldn’t save her.”

His footsteps were quiet but steady as he came closer. He didn’t say anything at first, but his presence felt warm, even in your storm of grief. When his arms slipped around you, pulling you into his chest, the dam broke. You let out a choked sob, clutching onto him like he was your lifeline.

“I know,” Ekko murmured, his voice heavy with understanding. “I know.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, tears soaking into his shirt as he held you tighter. He pressed his cheek against your hair, rocking you gently like the motion alone could steady the chaos in your heart.

“I tried, Ekko,” you cried. “I tried to reach her, but she wouldn’t—she wouldn’t listen. And now she’s—”

“She was hurting, too,” he said softly, cutting through your spiral with a calmness that was uniquely his. “You did everything you could. She made her choice, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. It’s not, okay?”

His words cracked something in you, and you leaned into him fully, feeling the warmth of his heartbeat against yours. His hand rubbed slow, comforting circles on your back as your sobs gradually quieted into hiccups.

“I don’t know what to do now,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

“We figure it out,” he said, his voice firm but tender. He pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up so your eyes met his. His gaze was soft, full of love and determination. “We’ll get through this. Together. You’re not alone in this, alright?”

You nodded shakily, the tiniest glimmer of hope flickering in your chest. It didn’t erase the pain, but Ekko’s presence was enough to remind you that you still had something to hold on to.

And for now, that was enough.

[muiitoloko]

Is there anymore difficult woman coming soon🫣👀

Title: Through Gilded Bars

Summary: Caught between passion and betrayal, a young wife struggles to reconcile her resentment with the unexpected warmth of her husband’s love.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut

Author's Notes: I finally managed to finish this chapter 😮‍💨

First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth and Ninth part here.

Also read on Ao3

The next morning, the house was cloaked in a rare, serene quiet. The rhythmic patter of rain on the windows had softened to a gentle drizzle, and the faint scent of damp earth wafted through the window of your shared bedroom. You stirred awake, the warmth of the duvet enveloping you as you became aware of the solid presence beside you.

Karl was still asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily, the faint gray light of dawn casting soft shadows on his chiseled face. The gray hair at his temples glinted in the light, his mustache twitching faintly as he dreamed. His strong arm was draped possessively across your waist, holding you close as though even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go.

You gazed at him for a moment, your mind replaying the events of the night before. The intensity of his touch, the vulnerability in his words—“I love you so fucking much”—lingered in your memory like a brand. You had never imagined this dynamic, this strange pull between you and Karl, could evolve into something so intimate, so tender, and yet so consuming.

Careful not to wake him, you slipped out of bed, grabbing a robe from the chair and tying it loosely around your waist. Your legs felt weak, your body sore in unfamiliar places, a reminder of the night’s passion. A soft blush crept up your cheeks as you glanced back at Karl, his face relaxed in sleep, looking younger and almost innocent.

You padded quietly to the bathroom to freshen up, splashing cold water on your face to steady the whirlwind of emotions still coursing through you. As you toweled off, a thought struck you—what now? What did last night mean for your marriage, for the tenuous relationship you had been navigating with this man?

The answer seemed both simple and impossibly complex. You couldn’t deny the connection that had formed between you and Karl, but what terrified you was the depth of it. How quickly the walls you had built around your heart had crumbled under the force of his devotion.

When you returned to the bedroom, Karl was awake, propped up on one elbow, his hazel eyes tracking your every move. His gaze was soft, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you.

“Good morning, liebling,” he said, his baritone voice rough with sleep but warm with affection.

“Good morning,” you replied, your voice quieter, still unsure of how to navigate this new intimacy.

Karl patted the space beside him, his smile widening slightly. “Come here,” he said gently.

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the belt of your robe, but the vulnerability in his expression softened you. Slowly, you crossed the room and slid back into bed beside him. Karl immediately pulled you into his arms, his embrace firm and comforting, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his tone laced with genuine concern.

“Sore,” you admitted with a shy smile, your cheeks flushing as you avoided his gaze.

Karl chuckled softly, the deep rumble of his laughter sending a pleasant shiver through you. “That’s to be expected,” he said, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your arm. “But I meant... in here.” He placed a hand gently over your heart, his hazel eyes searching yours for any hint of unease.

You swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to where his hand rested against your chest. “I don’t know,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Last night was... a lot.”

Karl’s expression softened even further, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he tilted your face toward him. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I want you to know that nothing has to change unless you want it to. You’re still in control, schatz. Always.”

The sincerity in his voice took your breath away. For a man who was so used to control, to power, Karl’s willingness to let you lead this new dynamic was both surprising and deeply touching.

But the soft, tentative warmth of the morning faded the moment you shook your head and slipped out of Karl’s arms. The air seemed to chill between you as you adjusted your robe, the knot at your waist tightening with the same tension building in your chest. You turned away from him, your shoulders stiff with resolve.

“What’s wrong, liebling?” Karl’s voice, rough from sleep, cut through the quiet. He sat up fully, the sheets pooling at his waist, his hazel eyes narrowing as he studied you.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, lips pursed. “What’s wrong?” you repeated, your tone sharp as you crossed the room to the window. The drizzle outside mirrored the storm inside you. “What’s wrong, Karl, is that I let myself forget who you are—what you’ve done.”

Karl sighed heavily, the sound carrying both frustration and a hint of guilt. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the weight of his body causing the mattress to creak. “I thought we were past this,” he said quietly, his baritone voice laced with weariness.

You turned sharply, your arms crossing over your chest as you faced him. “You thought wrong,” you snapped. “You’re still the man who destroyed my father’s business—my family’s livelihood—just to get to me.”

Karl’s jaw tightened, his hazel eyes darkening with emotion. “I wanted to do things differently,” he said, his voice rising slightly as he pushed himself to his feet. He towered over you, his chubby frame imposing but somehow softened by the vulnerability in his expression. “I wanted to court you properly, but your father wouldn’t let me near you! He called me unworthy, threatened to send you away.”

You scoffed, stepping closer to him, your chin tilted defiantly. “And that justifies what you did? Manipulating him, ruining everything he worked for? You didn’t just hurt him, Karl—you hurt me. You took away my choice.”

Karl ran a hand through his gray hair, his frustration evident in the way his fingers raked through the strands. “I rebuilt his business,” he shot back, his voice rough with defensiveness. “Your family is one of the richest in the region now because of me. I made things right.”

“It’s not about the money, Karl!” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger as you stepped closer, the intensity between you crackling like a live wire. “It’s about your manipulation. You didn’t ‘make things right.’ You decided what was right without considering anyone else—without considering me.”

Karl’s eyes dropped to your lips, his breath hitching as you leaned closer, your voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “You can’t buy my forgiveness, Karl. You can’t undo the damage you caused just because you feel guilty now.”

His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you closer until your bodies were nearly touching. His hazel eyes burned with a mix of anger and desire, his voice dropping to a husky growl. “You think I feel guilty? No, liebling, I don’t feel guilty for wanting you. I’d do it all again if it meant having you in my bed, in my life.”

Your breath hitched at the intensity in his gaze, but you refused to back down. “And that’s exactly why I can’t forgive you,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “Because you don’t see what you did as wrong. You think wanting me justifies everything.”

Karl’s grip on your wrist tightened slightly, his other hand moving to cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice softening as his thumb brushed against your skin. “Everything I did, I did because I love you.”

“You don’t love me, Karl,” you shot back, your voice firm even as your body betrayed you, leaning slightly into his touch. “You love the idea of me. You love the control.”

He growled softly, his thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip, his hazel eyes locked on yours. “You’re wrong,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you. And no matter how many times you argue with me, no matter how many sharp words you throw my way, I can’t stop loving you.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding as his lips hovered dangerously close to yours. “You can’t win this argument, Karl,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both defiance and something deeper, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

His lips curled into a small, self-deprecating smile, his breath hot against your skin. “I know,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I never can. You’ve always had the upper hand, liebling. Always.”

Your lips parted, ready to fire back another retort, but Karl closed the distance before you could speak. His mouth captured yours in a kiss that was equal parts desperation and surrender, his hands pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

You hated the way your body responded, hated the way his touch made you weak, made you forget every reason you had to push him away. But as his lips moved against yours, as his hands roamed your body with a possessive tenderness, you couldn’t deny the pull between you—the magnetic force that always seemed to bring you back to him.

And Karl, for all his faults, knew he was powerless against you. Even as he tried to assert control, to bend you to his will, he found himself hypnotized by you—by your strength, your fire, your lips that could silence him with a single word or ignite him with a single kiss.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against your mouth, his voice a low, breathless growl. “You drive me mad, liebling. Do you know that? Every time you argue with me, every time you defy me, it only makes me want you more.”

You smirked, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Good. Maybe you’ll finally learn that you can’t always get your way.”

Karl chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin as he rested his forehead against yours. “With you,” he murmured, his voice full of reluctant admiration, “I never stand a chance.”

Karl’s baritone voice rumbled with satisfaction as he kissed you deeply, his strong hands sliding over your body with renewed hunger. “You’re mine, liebling,” he murmured against your lips, his tone thick with desire as he eased you back onto the bed. The warmth of his body enveloped you as he pressed his weight into you, one hand loosening the belt of your robe while the other tangled in your hair.

“Karl,” you began, your voice breathless but stern, “we shouldn’t—”

He silenced you with another fervent kiss, his mustache brushing tantalizingly against your skin. “Hush,” he growled, his hazel eyes dark with a primal intensity. “Let me worship you properly.”

The cool air kissed your bare skin as your robe fell open, and Karl’s large, warm hands roamed over your curves with deliberate care. He lowered his mouth to your neck, his lips and teeth teasing the sensitive skin there. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, his voice rough as his lips moved lower, tracing a heated path down your chest.

You arched into his touch, your body betraying the protests on the tip of your tongue. “You’re insatiable,” you scolded, though your voice lacked conviction, trembling as Karl’s mouth found the peak of your breast, his tongue flicking over your nipple.

Karl chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “When it comes to you, yes,” he admitted, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, his touch firm and possessive. “You’ve ruined me for anything else, schatz.”

He shifted, aligning himself with you, and you gasped as he entered you in one slow, deliberate motion. The fullness of him was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you breathless. Karl groaned, his head falling to your shoulder as he began to move, his thrusts deep and unrelenting.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “So tight, so perfect for me.”

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you moaned his name, the intensity of his movements leaving you trembling beneath him. Karl’s lips found yours again, his kiss bruising and hungry as he drove you both toward release.

When the two of you finally collapsed into a breathless heap, Karl pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his chest heaving with exertion. “Stay in bed, liebling,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll have Liselotte bring you breakfast.”

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue, and Karl dressed quickly before leaving the room, his expression smug and content as he descended the stairs to the dining room.

Karl entered the dining room with a spring in his step, his usual commanding presence softened by a rare smile. Johann was already seated at the table, sipping his coffee, while Elisabeth sat stiffly across from him, her face pale and drawn.

“Good morning,” Karl greeted warmly, taking his seat at the head of the table. He exchanged a knowing look with Johann, who raised an eyebrow in silent question.

“Did you sleep well, Karl?” Johann asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity.

Karl smirked, reaching for the coffee pot. “Indeed,” he replied, pouring himself a cup. “And I’ve had a wonderful morning, too.”

Johann chuckled, shaking his head, but before he could respond, Elisabeth abruptly stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Her face was flushed, her expression unreadable as she excused herself hurriedly.

Karl’s brow furrowed as he watched her leave, concern flickering in his hazel eyes. “What’s wrong with Elisabeth?” he asked, turning to Johann.

Johann shrugged, feigning ignorance. “She hasn’t been feeling well,” he said vaguely, though his tone suggested there was more to the story.

Karl frowned, waving over Anna and Liselotte, who had been standing nearby. “Anna, find out what’s troubling Elisabeth and prepare some tea for her,” he ordered, his tone firm. “And Liselotte,” he added, turning to the younger maid, “take breakfast upstairs to my wife, along with some ointments to help with any soreness.”

Both women nodded quickly, hurrying to carry out his orders. Karl leaned back in his chair, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Elisabeth’s sudden departure and the lingering satisfaction of his time with you. He took a sip of his coffee, his hazel eyes flickering with a mixture of concern and smug contentment.

As Johann continued to watch him with quiet amusement, Karl couldn’t help but smile, his thoughts drifting back to the woman resting in his bed upstairs. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he knew one thing for certain: you were his, and he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Liselotte was bubbling with excitement. As she helped you untie your robe and guided you toward the bathroom, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"You must tell me everything!" she exclaimed, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “What was it like? Did Herr Hoffmeister treat you well?”

You felt your face grow hot as you stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over your skin, washing away the tension and soreness of the night. “There’s nothing to tell,” you said quickly, your voice wavering as you tried to maintain your composure. “It’s none of your business.”

Liselotte let out a dramatic laugh, covering her mouth as if to stifle her amusement. “Oh, don’t be modest, ma’am! The whole house heard you last night—and this morning too!”

Your hands froze mid-lather, your heart dropping into your stomach. “What?” you asked, turning to gape at her through the steamy haze of the bathroom.

“The walls in this house are thin,” Liselotte said with a smirk, her tone teasing but not unkind. “Anna and I could hardly believe it—Herr Hoffmeister’s bed is notoriously quiet. But with you, well…” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands, wishing the floor would swallow you up. “I can’t believe this,” you muttered. “It’s humiliating.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Liselotte said, her tone softening as she handed you a fresh bar of soap. “It’s perfectly natural. You’re married, after all. And, if I may say so, Herr Hoffmeister is a very lucky man. You’ve made him happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

Her words only deepened the flush on your cheeks. You busied yourself with rinsing your hair, avoiding her gaze as she chattered on. But eventually, her persistence wore you down.

“Fine,” you said with a sigh, leaning against the cool tile wall of the shower. “If you must know… Karl was kind. He was careful and gentle. He made sure I was comfortable.”

Liselotte’s eyes widened with delight, and she clasped her hands together. “I knew it! Beneath all that sternness, Herr Hoffmeister has a heart after all.”

You gave her a wry look. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. He’s still the man who ruined my father’s business and forced me into this marriage.”

Liselotte tilted her head, studying you with a thoughtful expression. “Does it feel different now? Between you and Herr Hoffmeister?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. The warmth of Karl’s touch, the sincerity in his voice, and the way he had held you last night lingered in your mind, complicating your feelings. “I… don’t know,” you admitted finally. “I still hate him for what he did to my family—and to me. But not as much as before.”

Liselotte nodded, her expression encouraging you to continue.

“I hate feeling like a prisoner in this place,” you said, your voice softer now. “But somehow, it doesn’t feel as oppressive anymore. Karl… he’s not as cruel as I thought he’d be.”

Liselotte smiled knowingly as she handed you a towel. “Love works in mysterious ways,” she said, her tone teasing yet warm. “Maybe Herr Hoffmeister isn’t the villain you’ve made him out to be.”

You sighed, wrapping the towel around yourself as you stepped out of the shower. “Or maybe he’s just a villain who happens to be good at kissing,” you quipped, though the faint smile on your lips betrayed your conflicted emotions.

Liselotte laughed, helping you into a fresh dressing gown. “Either way, I think you’re beginning to see that life here isn’t so bad,” she said, her voice gentle. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll find a way to be happy.”

You didn’t respond, but as you made your way to the bedroom for breakfast, you couldn’t shake the strange feeling that she might be right. Whether you liked it or not, Karl had begun to chip away at the walls you had built around your heart—and that thought was both terrifying and oddly comforting.

The morning sunlight streamed softly through the lace curtains of your bedroom, casting a warm glow over the cozy space. You sat in bed, a tray balanced carefully on your lap. A small feast had been prepared for your breakfast: freshly baked bread, an assortment of cheeses, slices of cured ham, and a steaming cup of coffee. Beside the tray sat a small collection of jars, their labels handwritten in elegant script. You picked one up, examining the thick glass and its contents, curiosity piqued.

“What are these?” you asked, holding the jar up for inspection. You removed the lid and sniffed the contents, the sharp scent of mint filling the air.

Liselotte, busy rifling through your wardrobe, glanced over her shoulder. She held a flowing cream-colored dress in one hand and a light blue one in the other, her brow furrowed in concentration. “The ointments are to help with the bruises and soreness, ma’am,” she said absently, her tone almost casual, as though this were an everyday occurrence.

You raised an eyebrow, your hand instinctively brushing over your hip, where Karl’s firm grip had left a faint ache. “Bruises?” you asked, chewing on a piece of bread.

Liselotte smirked, setting the cream dress aside and holding up the blue one against the light. “Well, I heard the headboard was doing most of the heavy lifting last night,” she teased. “And judging by how loud the two of you were, I’d say Herr Hoffmeister wasn’t exactly gentle.”

Your cheeks flushed crimson, and you quickly lowered your gaze, fumbling with the jar in your hands. “I don’t need a play-by-play,” you muttered, though the corner of your lips twitched in amusement despite your embarrassment.

Liselotte laughed softly, finally deciding on the blue dress. She laid it across the chair by the vanity before turning her full attention to you. “If it helps, the ointment works wonders. Anna swears by it—used it after her back gave out from scrubbing the floors last winter.”

You nodded, uncapping the jar again and dipping your finger into the cool, smooth substance. The minty aroma was soothing, and as you rubbed a small amount onto your wrist, you felt an immediate cooling sensation. “It’s nice,” you admitted, setting the jar back on the tray.

Liselotte clapped her hands, a playful grin on her face. “I told you! Herr Hoffmeister spares no expense when it comes to your comfort.”

You rolled your eyes, not believing Liselotte’s exaggerated claims, but you humored her with a small smile, tearing off a piece of toast and handing it to her. “Here,” you said, shaking your head. “Take this and hush. You’re like a hen clucking in my ear.”

Liselotte accepted the toast with a mischievous grin, but she wasn’t deterred. If anything, her enthusiasm grew. “Oh, no, no, ma’am,” she said, biting into the toast and waving a hand for emphasis. “You don’t understand! Herr Hoffmeister went mad preparing for your arrival. He wanted everything perfect.”

You arched an eyebrow, leaning back against the headboard as you sipped your coffee. “Perfect?” you repeated skeptically, giving her a pointed look. “Karl Hoffmeister doesn’t strike me as the sentimental type.”

Liselotte let out a dramatic laugh, nearly choking on her toast. “Sentimental? No, perhaps not. But determined? Oh, absolutely. You should have seen it, ma’am. The whole household was in a frenzy! He had the entire garden replanted just for you.”

You blinked, taken aback. “The garden?”

“Yes!” Liselotte exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement. She set the rest of her toast down and moved closer, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “Do you think those roses just magically bloomed overnight? No, Herr Hoffmeister ordered them all imported—imported, ma’am—from some fancy place in Holland. He said they were the finest in Europe, and only the best would do for his bride.”

You stared at her, unsure whether to laugh or roll your eyes again. “You’re making this up,” you said, though your tone was more amused than accusatory. “Karl Hoffmeister doesn’t strike me as the type to fuss over flowers.”

Liselotte’s jaw dropped, her expression a mixture of shock and playful outrage. She set down her toast dramatically, brushing the crumbs off her hands before marching over to the bed. “You don’t believe me?” she gasped, clutching her chest as though you had wounded her pride. “After everything I’ve told you?”

You smirked, leaning back against the pillows. “Liselotte, it’s not that I don’t believe you,” you teased, “but Karl Hoffmeister obsessing over flowers? It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

Liselotte let out an exasperated sigh and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of bed with surprising strength. “Enough of this nonsense!” she declared, her cheeks flushed with determination. “If you won’t take my word for it, I’ll show you myself!”

Laughing, you stumbled out of bed, clutching your robe around you as Liselotte dragged you across the room. “Liselotte, for heaven’s sake!” you protested, though there was no real anger in your voice. “I’m not even dressed!”

“Hush, ma’am,” Liselotte replied, waving off your complaints as she placed you firmly in front of the bedroom window. She pulled back the lace curtain with a flourish, gesturing dramatically toward the garden below. “There! Behold the fruits of Herr Hoffmeister’s labor!”

You rolled your eyes at her theatrics but humored her, peering out the window. The garden stretched out before you, a sea of vibrant colors and carefully curated blooms. Roses in every shade imaginable lined the pathways, their petals glistening with morning dew. Tall, stately tulips swayed gently in the breeze, their colors so vivid they looked almost painted. A wisteria vine climbed gracefully over an ornate archway, its purple blossoms cascading like a waterfall.

Liselotte pointed to a cluster of delicate white flowers near the fountain. “Those are snowdrops,” she said, her voice brimming with pride. “Imported directly from Holland. And those over there—” she gestured to a bed of vivid orange blooms “—are marigolds. Hans himself planted them!”

You blinked, surprised by the revelation. “He did all this… for me?”

Liselotte nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes! Herr Hoffmeister was very clear. He wanted everything to be beautiful, perfect, and meaningful. He said you deserved nothing less.”

You stared out at the garden, your fingers lightly gripping the windowsill. You had looked at this view dozens of times before, but it had always seemed like part of the prison Karl had built around you. The beauty of the flowers had been overshadowed by your resentment, their colors dulled by the bitterness in your heart.

But now, as Liselotte pointed out each bloom and explained their significance, you found yourself seeing the garden in a new light.

“Those roses,” Liselotte continued, her voice softening, “he said they reminded him of you—strong, beautiful, and resilient.” She gestured toward the wisteria arch. “And that wisteria? It’s a symbol of devotion. He insisted it be placed where you’d see it every morning.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you took it all in. The meticulous care that had gone into every detail, the thoughtfulness behind each choice… it was overwhelming. For the first time, you truly saw the garden, not as a gilded cage, but as a gift—a testament to Karl’s effort to make you feel at home, to make you feel cherished.

Liselotte’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You’re not a prisoner here, ma’am,” she said gently. “Herr Hoffmeister didn’t build this place to trap you. He built it so you’d feel like the queen of this estate.”

You turned to her, your eyes wide with emotion. “I’ve been so blind,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been so angry with him… I never stopped to notice.”

Liselotte smiled warmly, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “It’s understandable, ma’am. But now that you see it, perhaps it’s time to let go of some of that anger. Herr Hoffmeister may be stubborn and overbearing, but his heart is in the right place.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze returning to the garden. The vibrant blooms seemed to shimmer with a new brilliance, their colors brighter than you had ever noticed before. You felt a small, unfamiliar warmth stir in your chest—a tentative hope that perhaps, just perhaps, Karl’s actions weren’t entirely selfish.

As Liselotte continued to point out the different flowers and their meanings, you found yourself smiling, truly appreciating the beauty of the garden for the first time. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to wonder if there could be more to this life with Karl than you had ever imagined.

Meanwhile, in her own bedroom, Elisabeth buried her face in the pillows, ignoring the tea Anna had carefully placed on her bedside table. The fragrant steam curled upward, but she didn’t care. Tea wouldn’t soothe the ache in her chest or silence the echo of Karl’s voice calling out your name.

Elisabeth curled her fingers into the soft fabric of the pillow, her nails digging into the material as if it could somehow absorb her frustration. Karl had broken her heart again without even realizing it, his obliviousness cutting deeper than a deliberate slight ever could.

It was cruel to love a man who didn’t love you back—crueler still when that man looked at another woman with the kind of devotion Elisabeth could only dream of. He didn’t see her. Not as a woman. Not as someone who could match his fire, his passion. To him, she would always be the little girl who trailed behind him in the gardens, begging to ride horses and hear his stories.

The memory made her stomach churn with humiliation. She could still hear the teasing affection in his voice as he ruffled her hair, calling her mein kleines Mädchen—his little girl. It had been years since then, and Elisabeth had grown. She was no longer the child he remembered; she was a woman now—a woman with desires, with ambition, with the determination to claim what she wanted.

And what she wanted was Karl Hoffmeister.

Elisabeth buried her face deeper into the pillows, her lips trembling as a fresh wave of tears threatened to spill. But amid the heartbreak, there was a spark of defiance, a smoldering flame fanned by the memory of something Karl had said to her days ago.

"All’s fair in love and war."

The words rang in her ears, looping endlessly in her mind until they became a mantra. At the time, she’d thought nothing of it. Now, the phrase took on new meaning, seeping into her thoughts like a poison—or perhaps an elixir.

If all was fair in love and war, then she wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t stand by and let you win Karl’s heart without a fight. Karl might not see her now, but he would. She would make him see her—make him crave her—no matter what it took.

Elisabeth pushed herself up from the bed, her tear-streaked face hardening with resolve. She smoothed her dress, the silk clinging to her figure in a way she knew was alluring. Standing before the mirror, she studied her reflection, noting the flush in her cheeks and the brightness in her eyes. She was beautiful. She was desirable. And Karl would realize that soon enough.

But how? How could she make him look at her the way he looked at you? How could she shatter the image of the little girl he’d once known and make him see the woman she had become?

The answer was simple: she would seduce him. Slowly, deliberately, she would chip away at his defenses until there was nothing left but raw desire. She would play on his weaknesses, his unspoken fantasies, until he couldn’t resist her. And when the moment came, she would make him hers.

Elisabeth licked her lips, imagining the feel of his calloused hands on her skin, the weight of his body pressing her into the mattress. She could almost hear the growl of his voice, low and commanding, as he whispered filthy promises against her ear.

"You think you can tease me, mein Schatz? Think again."

Her breath hitched at the thought, heat pooling low in her belly. Karl was a man of control, but she had seen the cracks in his armor—the way his hazel eyes darkened with lust, the way his mustache twitched when he was holding himself back. She wanted to push him to his breaking point, to make him lose that ironclad restraint and take her the way she knew he wanted to.

"Do you know what you’ve done to me, Elisabeth?" she imagined him growling, his large hands gripping her waist as he pulled her flush against him. "I’ve been dreaming of this—of you—for far too long. Now that I have you, I’m never letting go."

Elisabeth shivered, the vivid fantasy leaving her breathless. She knew Karl would resist at first. He would try to cling to his sense of propriety, to the idea that you were the only woman for him. But she was patient. She would wear him down, inch by inch, until there was no room in his heart—or his bed—for anyone but her.

"You’re mine now, mein Liebling," she murmured to her reflection, her lips curving into a sly smile. "All’s fair in love and war, remember?"

With renewed determination, Elisabeth turned away from the mirror and rang the bell for Anna. There was much to do, and she couldn’t afford to waste time wallowing in self-pity. If Karl Hoffmeister wanted a war, then she would give him one. And this time, she had no intention of losing.

The kitchen was alive with the usual morning hustle. The warm scent of freshly baked bread and brewed coffee mingled with the faint aroma of herbs wafting from the simmering pots. Gustav, the head cook, worked with the precision of a master conductor, directing the staff like an orchestra.

Anna leaned against the counter as she polished silverware, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief. "I tell you, Gustav, with all the racket the bosses were making last night—and this morning too—it won’t be long before we see little ones running around here."

Hans paused in the middle of meticulously arranging a tray. He turned to Anna, his expression a mix of disapproval and exasperation. "Anna," he said sternly, his voice low and clipped, "it is highly inappropriate to comment on the personal lives of Herr Hoffmeister and his wife. Show some decorum."

Anna rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by his reprimand. "Oh, lighten up, Hans," she retorted, waving a hand dismissively. "You’re acting like I’ve committed some great sin. Everyone knows the bosses are finally getting along. That’s reason enough to celebrate, don’t you think?"

Gustav chuckled from his position by the stove, shaking his head as he stirred a pot of soup. "I think Anna’s just eager to see babies crawling around the halls, making a mess of all her hard work."

Anna grinned, not the least bit offended. "And why not? This house has been far too quiet for far too long. A couple of chubby little Hoffmeisters would do us all some good."

Hans sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re incorrigible," he muttered, shaking his head. "First I’m chasing Frau Hoffmeister through the gardens at Herr Hoffmeister’s orders, and now the two of them are… rolling around in bed like a couple of lovesick teenagers. It’s confusing."

Anna’s grin widened, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Confusing? Oh, Hans, you should’ve heard them. It wasn’t just the bed creaking. I thought the headboard was going to come clean off the wall!"

Gustav let out a hearty laugh, nearly doubling over as he stirred the soup. "Anna, you’ll be the death of me," he said, his voice booming through the kitchen. "Poor Hans here looks like he’s about to faint."

Hans’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he straightened his posture, his composure slipping under the weight of Anna’s teasing. "This is a respectable household," he said stiffly. "We should not engage in such… crude speculation."

Anna smirked, unbothered by his admonishment. "Crude? Oh, come now, Hans. Even you must admit it’s nice to see Herr Hoffmeister with a smile on his face. He’s been brooding for months, and now he looks like a man who’s just won the lottery."

Hans opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. He closed it again with a huff, shaking his head as he resumed arranging the tray. "You’re impossible," he muttered under his breath.

Anna’s grin only widened as she picked up a cloth and began polishing the silverware with exaggerated vigor. "Call me what you like, Hans," she said, her tone playful. "But mark my words—before long, there’ll be little feet pattering through this house. And you, my dear butler, will be chasing after them just like you chased after Frau Hoffmeister."

The image of Hans, red-faced and flustered, running after mischievous children caused Gustav to laugh so hard he had to set down his ladle. Even Heinrich, the older stable hand who had just entered the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, let out a deep chuckle.

Hans sighed again, though this time there was a faint, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn’t understand the dynamic between you and Karl—the constant push and pull, the fiery arguments followed by moments of intense passion. But one thing was clear: whatever was happening between the two of you was shaking up the household in ways no one could have predicted.

Upstairs, Liselotte was still bustling about your room, her chatter filled with excitement as she helped you dress. But even her enthusiasm couldn’t drown out the faint echo of laughter and clinking dishes from the kitchen below—a reminder that the staff had their own opinions about the newfound warmth between you and Karl. If only they knew how complicated things truly were.

The morning sun broke through the clouds, bathing the Hoffmeister estate in a soft, golden light. Inside his office, Karl sat at his mahogany desk, a thick pile of documents spread out before him. These were contracts and accounts from his factory—papers he had neglected for far too long. But now, with the estate quiet and his cousins in town, it seemed like the perfect time to focus.

Except he couldn’t.

Karl leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes kept drifting to the door, his thoughts wandering upstairs to where you were resting. He had left you alone, wanting to give you time to recover and process everything. But the pull to check on you was growing stronger with every passing minute.

With a frustrated sigh, Karl tossed the pen onto the desk and pushed himself to his feet. He needed a break, and he needed to see you. His heart was a strange mix of concern and anticipation. He made his way upstairs, his heavy footsteps echoing in the empty hallway. Reaching the bedroom door, he knocked softly before pushing it open.

The room was empty.

Karl’s chest tightened as a sense of déjà vu washed over him, memories of your attempted escape flooding back. He was about to call for Hans when Anna appeared in the hallway, carrying fresh linens.

“Anna,” he said sharply, his baritone voice tinged with urgency. “Where is she?”

Anna blinked, startled by his tone, before offering a reassuring smile. “She’s at the stables, Herr Hoffmeister. The puppy got himself into a bit of a mess playing in the mud. She insisted on washing him herself.”

Karl exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief coursing through him. “Thank you,” he muttered, his voice softening. He turned on his heel and headed downstairs, a wry smile tugging at his lips. Of course, you would be at the stables, caring for that little troublemaker.

The closer Karl got to the stables, the more he could hear your voice. It was soft but firm, tinged with amusement as you scolded Mouse. “Stay still, you little rascal! If you keep squirming, I’ll just leave you muddy.”

Karl chuckled under his breath, stepping carefully over the muddy puddles that dotted the path. As he entered the stable, the sight before him made him pause. You were crouched beside a wooden trough, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly damp from the humidity. Mouse, the tiny puppy, was a muddy mess, squirming as you tried to rinse him off with a bucket of water.

“You look like you’re losing this battle,” Karl drawled, his baritone voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Startled, you turned to see him leaning against the stable doorframe, arms crossed and a playful smirk on his lips. “If you’re just here to tease, Karl, you can leave,” you retorted, though the corner of your mouth quirked up in a smile.

Karl pushed off the doorframe and walked toward you, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. “Nonsense. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you to handle this alone.”

Before you could protest, Karl crouched beside you, his larger hands easily holding Mouse in place. “Now, you focus on cleaning him. I’ll keep him still,” he said, his tone commanding but not unkind.

You huffed but obliged, scooping water from the bucket and pouring it over Mouse’s muddy fur. The puppy let out an indignant bark, shaking vigorously and splattering both of you with water and mud.

“Mouse!” you exclaimed, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

Karl let out a deep laugh, the sound rich and warm. “I think he’s winning,” he teased, his hazel eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Oh, really?” you shot back, grabbing a handful of water and flinging it at him. The droplets hit his shirt, leaving dark, wet splotches.

Karl’s eyebrows shot up in mock offense. “You dare?” he growled, scooping a handful of water from the trough and splashing it at you.

A shriek escaped your lips as the cold water hit your chest, soaking the front of your dress. “Karl!”

He grinned wickedly, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Fair’s fair, liebling.”

But you weren’t one to back down. Grabbing another bucket, you flung its contents at him, drenching his shirt completely. The fabric clung to his chest, revealing the broad, solid frame beneath.

Karl’s laughter rumbled as he retaliated, and soon the two of you were engaged in a full-blown water war.

The stable air smelled of hay, earth, and faint traces of rain. You and Karl were laughing so hard your sides ached, your laughter mingling with the sound of Mouse barking and darting between your legs. The bucket of water you had hurled at Karl left his shirt clinging to his broad chest, the wet fabric outlining the strong frame you’d been too angry to appreciate before.

At the back of the stables, Heinrich smiled to himself as he finished brushing a chestnut mare. His weathered hands moved in smooth, practiced strokes, his eyes glancing occasionally at you and Karl. The two of you were soaked, splashing water at one another like children, Mouse bouncing around and barking gleefully. The dog’s antics made Heinrich chuckle softly.

“Come here, Mouse,” he called, his deep, gravelly voice calm and familiar. Mouse hesitated for a moment before bounding over to him. Heinrich scooped the muddy pup into his arms, giving you and Karl a knowing smile as he exited quietly through the back. He’d leave you to enjoy this rare, unguarded moment.

With Mouse gone, Karl’s hazel eyes flickered with a mischievous light as he turned back to you. Water dripped from his gray hair, and his mustache was damp, giving him a slightly disheveled but oddly roguish appearance. “Now, liebling,” he drawled, his baritone voice low and teasing, “I believe you’ve drenched me enough.”

You raised your chin defiantly, unable to suppress your grin. “You deserved it,” you quipped, stepping back slightly, but your soaked dress clung to your legs, limiting your movement.

Karl’s gaze darkened as his eyes roamed over you, the wet fabric leaving little to the imagination. Your dress, now nearly transparent, hugged your curves, the swell of your breasts and the soft lines of your thighs clearly visible. His throat worked as he swallowed, his voice rough when he spoke. “You’re testing my patience, schatz.”

You arched an eyebrow, your lips curving into a playful smirk. “Oh? And what are you going to do about it?”

Karl didn’t answer with words. Instead, he lunged forward, his large hands gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. The heat of his body contrasted sharply with the chill of your wet clothes, making you gasp. His hazel eyes burned into yours, and his voice dropped to a husky growl. “You’ve made quite the mess, liebling. Now, I think it’s time you cleaned it up.”

Before you could retort, his mouth captured yours in a searing kiss. It was rough, demanding, and full of the passion that had been building between you. His hands slid down your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as he pressed you against one of the wooden support beams.

“Karl,” you murmured breathlessly when he broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. His mustache tickled your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You tried to maintain your composure, but the way his teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear made your knees weak.

He chuckled against your neck, the sound vibrating through you. “You can’t tease a man like that and expect to walk away unscathed,” he murmured, his hands sliding down to your thighs. With a swift motion, he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

“Karl, we can’t,” you protested weakly, but your hands tangled in his damp hair, betraying your words.

“Why not?” he growled, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “No one’s here. Just you, me, and this stable.” His hands roamed your thighs, pushing your dress higher as he carried you toward one of the empty bays filled with fresh hay.

The world outside faded as he laid you down gently on the soft hay, his large frame hovering over you. His hazel eyes locked onto yours, filled with a mix of desire and tenderness that left you breathless. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he traced a finger along your jawline.

Your heart pounded as you reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing over the faint stubble on his cheek. “And you’re insufferable,” you whispered, though your tone was soft, almost teasing.

Karl smirked, leaning down to kiss you again, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that made your body arch against him. His hands explored your curves, his touch firm but reverent as he peeled the soaked fabric of your dress away from your skin. Every inch of you that was exposed to the cool air was soon warmed by his touch, his lips following the path of his hands.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with need. “Every inch of you, mine.”

You shivered at the possessiveness in his tone, your own desire flaring as your hands worked to unbutton his soaked shirt. The fabric clung stubbornly to his broad shoulders, but you managed to push it off, revealing the strong, slightly weathered body beneath. Your hands roamed over his chest, the warmth of his skin igniting a fire in your belly.

“Karl,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and need.

He silenced you with another kiss, his hips pressing against yours in a way that left no doubt about his intentions. His movements were deliberate, slow but confident, as he aligned himself with you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. When you nodded, giving him silent permission, he entered you with a slow, deliberate thrust that left you gasping.

The intimacy of the moment took your breath away. Karl’s usual dominance was tempered by an unexpected tenderness, his movements careful and controlled as he worshipped every inch of you. The hay beneath you was soft, the scent of earth and horses mixing with the faint saltiness of his sweat as you moved together, your bodies finding a rhythm that felt both natural and exhilarating.

His hands gripped your hips as he thrust deeper, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was almost desperate. “I love you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw and vulnerable. “I love you so damn much.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his words, and you found yourself whispering his name like a prayer as the tension between you built to a crescendo. When release finally came, it was overwhelming, your cries mingling with his low, guttural groans as you clung to each other, your bodies trembling with the force of it.

For a long moment, the two of you lay tangled together in the hay, your breaths mingling as you slowly came back to reality. Karl brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hazel eyes soft as they gazed into yours. “You drive me mad, liebling,” he said softly, his voice filled with both amusement and affection.

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Good,” you murmured, your voice still breathless. “Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

Karl chuckled, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “You’ve done more than that,” he said, his tone serious now. “You’ve changed everything.”

As you lay in his arms, surrounded by the scent of hay and the fading warmth of your passion, you couldn’t help but feel that he was right. Everything had changed—and for the first time, you weren’t entirely sure that was a bad thing.

Karl’s body kept you warm, his broad chest rising and falling against your cheek as his lips brushed over your shoulder in slow, tender kisses. His mustache tickled your skin, drawing a giggle from you, though your mind was only half-focused on his attentions.

Your gaze wandered to the other stalls across from you. That’s when you saw it. The horses. They stood there, large dark eyes fixed on you and Karl, their heads poking out over the stall doors like curious spectators. One mare flicked her tail, her ears swiveling forward, while a large stallion gave a loud snort, shaking his mane as if in disapproval.

You froze, heat rising to your cheeks. "Karl," you hissed, your voice urgent but quiet.

He hummed lazily, clearly distracted as he kissed the curve of your shoulder. "Hmm?" His baritone voice was a deep rumble against your skin.

"Karl!" you repeated, a little louder this time. You grabbed the edge of the blanket he'd draped over the two of you, clutching it to your chest and trying to shield your bare body from view.

"What is it, liebling?" he asked, finally lifting his head to look at you, his hazel eyes still clouded with contentment.

You nodded toward the stalls. "The horses," you whispered harshly, your voice rising in pitch. "They're staring at us!"

Karl turned his head slowly, his brows furrowing in mild confusion. Sure enough, the horses remained unmoving, their unblinking eyes fixed on the two of you. One of them gave a soft whinny, as though in agreement with your observation.

Karl blinked, his expression blank for a moment. Then, to your disbelief, he burst into laughter—a deep, hearty sound that filled the stable. He leaned back slightly, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe the absurdity of your concern.

"Karl!" you hissed again, your embarrassment deepening. "It's not funny! They're... they're watching us!"

He chuckled, his broad shoulders shaking with amusement. "Liebling," he said, his voice thick with laughter, "they’re horses. They don’t know what we’re doing."

"How do you know that?" you shot back, your tone defensive as you gestured wildly at the equine audience. "They look far too interested for my liking!"

Karl raised an eyebrow, clearly struggling to keep a straight face. "What do you think they’re going to do? Write a report? Tell Heinrich?"

You glared at him, your cheeks burning. "It’s not about what they’ll do, Karl. It’s the principle of the thing. They shouldn’t... see this!"

He turned to look at the horses again, this time with a more serious expression. He studied them for a moment, his hazel eyes narrowing slightly as if he were considering your point. Finally, he let out a mock sigh and shrugged. "Well," he said, his tone deadpan, "I suppose I could have them moved to the other side of the estate if it bothers you that much. Perhaps Heinrich could arrange for some privacy screens."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "This isn’t a joke!"

Karl leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. "Oh, but it is, liebling," he murmured, his voice rich with amusement. "A very funny one."

You peeked at him through your fingers, your glare only making him laugh harder. His whole body shook with mirth, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny, grudging smile tug at the corners of your lips, despite your mortification.

Suddenly, a sharp cough interrupted the moment, and you both froze. Your heads whipped around to see Heinrich standing in the stable doorway, Mouse tucked under one arm and a bucket of water in the other. His weathered face was impassive, but his gray-blue eyes twinkled with barely concealed humor.

"I see the two of you have been... busy," Heinrich said, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement.

Karl cleared his throat, quickly pulling the blanket up to cover the both of you more modestly. "Heinrich," he said smoothly, though the faint pink tint in his cheeks betrayed him, "what can I do for you?"

Heinrich raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between the two of you and the very muddy patch of hay you were lying on. "Just thought I’d bring Mouse back," he said casually, setting the puppy down. "Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever it is you’re doing."

You buried your face in Karl’s chest, groaning in embarrassment. Karl, for his part, simply gave a small, sheepish smile. "Thank you, Heinrich," he said, his tone as dignified as he could manage under the circumstances.

Heinrich nodded, tipping his cap. "I’ll leave you to it, then," he said, his voice carrying a faint chuckle as he turned to leave. As he exited, you swore you heard him mutter, "Young love... always causing a mess."

Karl looked down at you, his hazel eyes filled with both amusement and tenderness. "Well, liebling," he said, his baritone voice low and teasing, "it seems we’ve given everyone in this stable quite the show."

You groaned again, swatting at his chest. "This is all your fault."

He laughed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your temple. "I’ll take full responsibility," he promised, his voice warm with affection. "But I must say, it was worth it to see you like this."

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile, your earlier embarrassment fading in the warmth of his embrace. "You’re impossible," you muttered, though your tone lacked any real bite.

Karl chuckled, his hand gently stroking your hair. "And you, liebling, are irresistible," he murmured, his voice soft. "Horses and all."

[saeslove]

🕸️ 017 . threads of comfort

synopsis after encountering spider-man from a late-night walk, only to you share a conversation about love, self-worth, and moving on, with Spider-Man encouraging her to stop waiting for someone who doesn’t show up. wc 211

devastated by the fact that michael kaiser had ghosted you after the day you hanged out at your house, you tried to be understanding. after all, he was going through a lot, but you couldn’t help hoping he’d turn to you for comfort. walking along the sandy beach, the chilly wind whipping through your hair, you couldn’t shake the loneliness. it was late, and you decided it was time to head home.

as you walked towards the bus stop, you were suddenly confronted by two imposing men, their builds intimidating enough to make you feel small and powerless. your heart raced as you realised you were completely alone on the beach. was this it? were you about to be robbed?

fear gripped you, and you cursed yourself for not heeding your friend’s advice to head home earlier. the men finally noticed you, and with a menacing step in your direction, panic set in. you turned and ran as fast as you could, only to trip over your own shoelaces. the men caught up to you quickly, and before you could react, you felt a firm hand cover your eyes. you heard thuds in the distance, the unmistakable sound of punches landing.

as he removed his hands from your eyes, you blinked, still in a daze. the air around you felt charged, and your heart was still pounding in your chest. the man in the red and blue suit was standing just a few feet away, hands raised in a non-threatening

“hey, are you okay? don’t worry, i’m not here to hurt you," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, though there was a slight hint of nervousness in it.

you stared at him in disbelief. "spider-man? you saved me? thank you, i didn’t know what would’ve happened to me if you weren’t there. i was so terrified.” you started crying.

he panicked slightly. "hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? they can’t hurt you anymore, see? what’s a beautiful lady like you doing out here anyway? it’s not safe."

"guess you scared them off for me," you replied, still catching your breath. "i was just getting some fresh air."

his eyes brightened, as if a thought had just clicked. "say, are you afraid of heights?"

you shook your head, still trying to collect yourself, the adrenaline still pulsing through your veins. "no, not really."

"good, but you better hold on tight."

before you could process his words, spider-man gently scooped you up in his arms, surprising you with his strength. "wha—" you gasped, your hands instinctively gripping onto his suit.

"don’t worry, i’ve got you," he reassured you as he leapt, using the webbing to swing you both into the air.

you let out a small yelp of shock as you soared high above the streets, the wind rushing past your face. the world below you suddenly seemed so small.

"spider-man what are you—" you started, but he was already weaving through the buildings, moving with a fluid, graceful motion that made it look effortless.

"you said you needed fresh air, right?" he said with a grin in his voice.

this was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. and despite the shock, a part of you felt exhilarated, your heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

you glanced at him, trying to make sense of it all. "this is insane."

he chuckled. "you think? you should see it from my point of view." he tilted his head slightly, looking down at you. "better now?"

the view of the city lights twinkling beneath you, the sound of your breath mingling with the rush of the wind, it felt surreal. you nodded, still in awe, though part of you couldn’t help but feel something else stir deep inside you.

maybe it was the danger, or maybe it was the way spider-man had seemed so effortlessly cool and composed, but you realized, for some reason, this was one night you’d never forget.

"yeah," you finally managed, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "this is better."

he finally came to a stop at the tokyo bridge, gently setting you down. as you took in the view, you felt his hand subtly rest on your waist.

"i’ve got you," he said softly, his voice steady. "so, how’s the fresh air?"

you sighed, looking out at the scene before you. "it’s complicated. the guy i thought i liked, he ghosted me. i get it, though, but i just wanted to be there for him, you know? i guess i just wanted him to lean on me for a change.”

"well, i think you’re right to want him to lean on you. but you deserve someone who won’t make you wait around. you’ve got a lot to offer. trust me, anyone who doesn't see that is missing out."

“it’s just hard, you know? i really want to be there for him.” you then look at him, a bit more open than before, asking, "how do you stay so sure of yourself? it’s like you never doubt anything."

he chuckles softly, a confident grin spreading across his mask. "i don't have time to doubt, honestly. life moves fast, and if you're not sure of yourself, you're just holding yourself back. i learned a long time ago that you have to keep pushing”

he steps a little closer, his voice lowering slightly as he adds “so, tell me more about this guy of yours. what makes him so special that you’re willing to wait around?”

you hesitate for a moment, “he's complicated. he's not perfect, but i thought maybe we could figure it out together. but i don't know anymore. it feels like i’m always the one trying, and he’s not showing up the way i need him to."

your words hang in the air, a little uncertain but opening up to spider-man in a way you hadn’t expected.

he leans casually against the railing, “you know,” he says after a moment, his voice calm but firm, “it’s not your job to wait around for someone to figure out how they feel about you. especially if they keep leaving you in the dark. you deserve more than that.”

the words hit harder than you’d like to admit.

“why do you even care?” you ask

he shrugs, a playful lilt returning to his tone. “it’s kind of my job. saving people, listening to them when they need it. besides, you’ve got this way of looking out for everyone but yourself. someone should return the favour.”

“thanks,” you say with a steady voice.

“anytime,” he replies, stepping back and shooting you a crooked grin through his mask. “now, how about i swing you home? unless you feel like talking to more shady guys on the beach.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “i think i’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

series MASTERLIST

notes from lily ❦⋆ : talking about himself babshaha

TAGLIST

@mixolya @x3nafix @96jnie @tamashithe2nd @cookielovesbook-akie @yuiearyi @noomimi @stargirljas @jhsluvv @sof888a @livelaughloveshidou @swagkittybear @axquella @passw-0-rd @hwaassaa @bbladie @tofumiarchives @justanotherweeb666 @metaphorically-here @ravenbc @levihanmyotp @rybunnie @adrnmyknight @etherealrin @shosuki @90s-belladonna @wwastro @shr00mfairy @pan-kojiwa @pctterheadd @shumeow-h [tell me if i missed out anyone]

comments & reblogs appreciated!

@ saeslove 2025 do not plagiarize, translate, or rewrite my writings without my permission !

[acknowledge-reigns]

Mami & Papi | Good Boy pt 2 | Jey Uso x Damian Priest x Rhea Ripley (SMUT) 18+!

(Not my gif)

Description: Part two of Good Boy.

Warnings: Dom/sub, multiple partners, threesome, sub!jey x Switch Rhea x Dom Damian, praise, degradation, orgasm delay and denial, edging, begging, petnames, honorifics (Mami and Papi), oral, handjob, teasing, swallowing, cum swapping/cum kissing.

My masterlist can be found here

MDNI!! 18+!!!

The room is dimly lit, with only a few candles casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Rhea and Damian are seated on a plush sofa, their eyes fixed on Jey who is kneeling on the floor in front of them.

Jey looks up at them with a mixture of anticipation and submission, his big brown eyes wide and his body trembling slightly. He was desperate. The duo known as the terror twins hadn't let him cum in almost a week.

Rhea smirks, enjoying the sight of him on his knees. She runs her fingers through his curls, tugging gently.

"Such a good boy," she purrs, her voice low and seductive. "On your knees for us."

Damian chuckles, his eyes raking over Jey's body.

"He has been such a good boy, hasn't he?" he says, his gaze lingering on Jey's erection.

Rhea nods, her hand still playing with Jey's hair.

"He has," she agrees. "He's been so patient, waiting for us to let him cum."

Jey whimpers, his body arching towards Rhea's touch. He's so desperate to be touched, to be allowed to cum.

Damian grins, enjoying the sight of Jey's desperation.

"Look at him," he says to Rhea. "He's practically begging for it."

Rhea looks down at Jey, her eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and desire.

"You want to cum, don't you baby boy?" she asks, her voice dripping with teasing.

Jey nods eagerly, his eyes pleading with her. "Yes, Mami." he says.

Rhea chuckles and looks over at Damian.

"Should we give him what he wants?" she asks, her hand moving from Jey's hair to his chin, tilting his head up.

Damian pretends to think about it for a moment, then smirks.

"I suppose he's been good enough," he says. "He deserves a reward."

Rhea grins and turns her attention back to Jey.

"Stand up," she commands, her voice firm.

Jey quickly gets to his feet, his body trembling with anticipation.

Damian stands up as well, towering over Jey. He circles around him, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Look at him, so eager to please," he says, his hand trailing down Jey's back.

Jey shivers at Damian's touch, his eyes following the other man's movements. He's completely under their control, and he loves it.

Rhea steps closer to Jey, her body pressed against his. She runs her hands over his tattooed chest, her touch light and teasing.

"You're so beautiful like this," she whispers in his ear. "All ours to play with."

Damian comes up behind Jey, his chest against his back. He wraps his arms around Jey's waist, holding him in place.

"You're our good little toy," he murmurs, his lips grazing the back of Jey's neck.

Jey's breath hitches as Damian's lips touch his skin. He can feel Rhea's hands on his chest, her touch sending shivers down his spine.

"Please..." he whimpers, his body aching with need.

Rhea smiles at his pleading, enjoying the sound of his desperation.

"Please what, baby boy?" she asks, her hands trailing lower.

Jey's face flushes with embarrassment, but he can't hold back his desires any longer.

"Please let me cum," he begs, his voice trembling.

Damian chuckles darkly, his grip on Jey tightening.

"Such a needy little thing," he says, his breath hot against Jey's ear. "We'll let you cum, but only when we're satisfied."

"Do you me to ride your face while Papi makes you feel good?" Rhea teases.

Jey's eyes widen at Rhea's suggestion, his cock twitching at the thought.

"Y-yes please..." he stutters, his voice filled with excitement.

Rhea grins, pleased with his reaction. She looks over at Damian, who is also smirking.

"I think he likes that idea," she says, her hand wrapping around Jey's cock.

Damian nods in agreement, his eyes dark with lust.

"I think so too," he says, his hands sliding down to Jey's hips. "Get on the bed, baby boy."

Jey obeys immediately, scrambling onto the bed and lying down on his back. He looks up at Rhea and Damian, his body trembling with anticipation.

Rhea and Damian climb onto the bed as well, each of them straddling one of Jey's legs. They look down at him, their eyes roaming over his body.

"You look so good like this," Rhea says, her hand tracing the lines of his abs.

Rhea grins and positions herself above Jey's face, her thighs on either side of his head.

"Are you ready, baby boy?" she asks, looking down at him with a playful glint in her eye.

Jey nods eagerly, his mouth watering at the sight of her. He can feel Damian's hands on his hips, holding him in place.

Rhea lowers herself down, her pussy hovering just above Jey's face. She teases him for a moment, her body tantalizingly close but not quite touching him.

Jey lets out a frustrated whine, his hands gripping the sheets tightly. He tries to lift his head, desperate to taste her.

Rhea chuckles at his eagerness and finally lowers herself down completely, her pussy pressing against his mouth.

"Good boy," she says, her voice low and sultry.

Jey moans against her, his tongue darting out to taste her. He licks and sucks at her folds, his movements desperate and hungry.

Rhea gasps as Jey's tongue works magic on her, her hands gripping his hair tightly. She grinds against his face, her body trembling with pleasure.

"Fuck, he's so good at this..." she moans, throwing her head back.

Damian watches them with a smirk, his hands still holding Jey's hips in place.

"He's such a lil puta," he says, his voice rough with desire. "Look at him, he's practically drooling for it."

Jey can't deny it, he's completely lost in the taste and scent of Rhea. Not to mention Damian degrading him in Spanish always gives him butterflies. He's moaning and whimpering against her, his body writhing beneath her.

Rhea continues to ride Jey's face, her movements becoming more frantic as she nears her climax.

"I'm so close," she pants, her eyes locked on Damian. "He's going to make me cum so hard..."

Damian grins and moves his hand to Jey's cock, wrapping his fingers around it. He starts to stroke him slowly, teasing him with a light touch.

Jey's body jerks at the sensation, his moans muffled by Rhea's pussy. He tries to buck his hips, but Damian's grip on him is too strong.

Damian chuckles and tightens his grip, denying Jey any chance of relief.

"Patience, baby boy," he says, his voice dripping with amusement. "You'll get to cum when we say so."

Rhea throws her head back and cries out as she reaches her peak, her body trembling with the force of her orgasm.

"Oh, god... yes..." she moans, her grip on Jey's hair tightening as she rides out her climax.

Jey eagerly laps up her juices, his face covered in her cum. He looks up at her with a dazed expression, his eyes glazed over with pleasure.

Rhea climbs off of Jey's face and moves down to his cock, replacing Damian's hand with her mouth.

Damian moves up to straddle Jey's chest, his cock inches away from Jey's lips.

"Open up, baby boy," he says, his voice firm but gentle.

Jey obeys, his mouth opening wide as Damian slides his cock into Jey's mouth, groaning as he feels the warmth and wetness envelop him.

Jey struggles to take all of Damian's length, his eyes watering as he gags slightly. But he doesn't pull away, instead he relaxes his throat and tries to accommodate him.

Damian grips Jey's hair tightly, holding his head in place as he begins to thrust in and out of his mouth.

"Good boy, take it all," he grunts, his eyes locked on Jey's face.

Rhea is expertly working Jey's cock with her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head and her lips forming a tight seal around him. She bobs her head up and down, taking him deep into her throat.

Jey is completely overwhelmed by the sensations, his body caught between the pleasure of Rhea's mouth and the fullness of Damian's cock in his throat. He's moaning and whimpering around Damian's length, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Damian increases the pace of his thrusts, his hips moving faster and harder as he nears his own climax.

"Fuck," he growls, looking down at Jey with a possessive glint in his eyes. "Such a good little cocksucker..."

Rhea can feel Jey's body tensing beneath her, a sure sign that he's close to cumming. She redoubles her efforts, sucking him even harder and faster.

Jey's body goes rigid as he reaches his peak, his hips bucking upwards as he shoots his load into Rhea's mouth. He lets out a strangled cry around Damian's cock, his eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy.

Rhea swallows every drop of Jey's cum, licking his cock clean before pulling off with a satisfied smirk.

Damian grips Jey's hair tighter, his hips jerking as he reaches his own climax. He holds Jey's head in place as he shoots his load into his mouth, grunting loudly as he does so.

Damian grabs Jey's chin and forces him to look up at Rhea.

"Kiss her," he orders, his voice firm but gentle. "Show her how much you enjoyed it."

Jey's face is flushed and he's still breathing heavily, but he obeys Damian's command. He leans up and captures Rhea's lips in a messy, cum-filled kiss.

Rhea moans into the kiss, tasting Damian's cum on Jey's tongue. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him closer as they continue to make out.

Damian watches them with a satisfied smile, enjoying the sight of his two lovers kissing passionately. He runs his fingers through Jey's hair, gently massaging his scalp. "Such good lil pets."

Eventually, Rhea pulls away from the kiss, a trail of cum and saliva connecting their lips. She looks down at Jey with a smirk.

"You did so well, baby boy," she says, her voice low and sultry. "Such a good little cumslut."

Jey doesn't even try to hide the shy smile spreading across his face at their praise.

"Thank you, Mami and Papi," he whispers, his voice hoarse from the rough treatment.

Damian chuckles and leans down to nuzzle Jey's neck.

"You're welcome, Mi Amor."

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: In the cold of a nearby neighborhood, Joel’s condition worsens, and tensions rise as you and Ellie do everything you can to keep him alive. Desperation and doubt linger as you search for answers, only to uncover something you never expected—a letter in Joel's bag.

Inside the still coldness of the basement, somewhere east of Colorado State University, where you’re certain those men won’t track you, you’re huddled over Joel. You and Ellie rip into any fabric nearby—blankets left behind, clothes from your bags—anything you can find. The dim light filtering through a small, dirt-smudged window barely illuminates the room, but it’s enough to see the blood soaking the small mattress you found for him.

“Keep pressure, El,” you say, your voice trembling as you fumble for another strip of fabric. The cloth in Ellie’s hands is already soaked through, dark red seeping into her fingers as she presses down on the wound. Turning back, you grab more, switching out the saturated material for something marginally cleaner.

Joel’s body shudders under your touch, his groans low and guttural. His skin is pale, slick with sweat, and every fevered sound he makes feels like a knife to your chest. Seeing him like this—fighting, slipping—makes you want to scream. But you don’t. You can’t.

“Ellie,” you say suddenly, your voice barely above a whisper. She looks up at you, wide-eyed, her hands still holding firm against Joel’s side. “We need a first aid kit. Something to stitch this up. If we can’t stop the bleeding—” Your voice cracks, but you force yourself to continue. “There’s no use.”

Ellie’s face pales, her breath catching as your words sink in. For a moment, she looks as though she might crumble, her lips trembling as she stares down at Joel. “Okay,” she says finally, her voice small. “Okay. I’ll go look.”

“There was a mall,” you tell her, speaking quickly now. “About a mile away. I saw it when we were riding in. Go there. Take Callus and your gun. Take Joel’s, too.” You grab your bag, yanking it open with shaking hands. “Take whatever you need from here. You’ve got this, kid. Do you hear me?”

Ellie swallows hard, her jaw tightening as she processes your words. “What about you?” she asks, her voice wavering.

“I’ll stay,” you say, your throat tightening as you glance down at Joel. His face is pale, sweat beading on his forehead, and his breathing is shallow. “I’ll guard him. Keep pressure on the wound. Keep the bastard alive.”

“But what if they—what if someone—”

“I’ll handle it,” you cut her off, your voice firmer now. “Joel can’t be moved like this. We’ll just slow you down. You’re faster, Ellie. You can do this.”

She hesitates, her eyes flicking between you and Joel, the fear in her expression so raw it twists something deep in your chest. But then she nods, determination setting her jaw. “I’ll be back,” she says, gripping her gun tightly.

“I’m counting on you,” you whisper, holding her gaze. “Be careful, Ellie. And don’t take any risks you don’t have to.”

She nods again, her lips pressing into a thin line as she grabs the supplies, slinging her bag over her shoulder. With one last look at Joel, she turns and disappears through the doorway, her footsteps fading into the distance.

As the silence settles around you, you glance down at Joel again. His face is slack, his breaths shallow, but his eyelids flutter weakly. “You’re not leaving us, Joel,” you whisper, pressing harder against the wound despite the tremble in your hands. “You’re not leaving me, dammit. Not like this.”

Somehow, the basement feels even colder now, the chill creeping in through the cracks and settling into every corner. You sit beside Joel, your back pressed against the wall, your knees pulled to your chest as you watch him shiver uncontrollably. His teeth chatter, the sound sharp and rhythmic, and every breath he takes comes out in foggy bursts of air, a stark reminder of how cold it’s gotten.

You shift closer, tentatively placing a hand on his arm. His skin burns under your touch, feverish and damp with sweat, and it makes your chest tighten with panic. His body feels wrong—too hot, like he’s burning up from the inside out. Every labored breath he takes sends another rush of fog into the cold air, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

“Joel,” you whisper, leaning closer. “Hey. You gotta stay with me, okay?”

His head turns slightly, his eyes fluttering open just enough for you to catch the faintest glimpse of brown beneath his heavy lids. He doesn’t speak, just groans softly, his teeth still chattering so hard it seems to shake his entire frame.

“Shit,” you mutter, brushing damp hair away from his forehead. His skin is slick, his breath shallow and ragged. You glance around the room for something—anything—to help stabilize him. But you’ve used everything, and there’s nothing left. Panic swirls in your chest, but you push it down, forcing yourself to act.

You tug at the zipper of his jacket, pulling it open as you slide your hands beneath the layers. His body radiates heat, and for a moment, you hesitate. He’s feverish, burning up, but the freezing air around you is a bigger threat now. You need to keep him warm—keep his body from going into shock. His skin may be hot, but you know the cold is getting to him quickly.

Carefully, you maneuver yourself closer, slipping beneath his jacket and pressing against him. The heat from his body is almost overwhelming, and the dampness of his clothes clings to your skin, but you ignore it. Wrapping your arms around him, you adjust until your chest is flush against his side, your head resting just beneath his collarbone.

“You’re okay,” you whisper, your breath brushing against his neck. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Joel stirs faintly, a soft groan slipping past his cracked lips. His arm moves weakly, holding you against him.

“Save your energy.” you murmur, holding him steady. “ Let me do the work for once, alright?”

The words are shaky, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. His body is too hot, the fever taking its toll, and it makes you feel helpless. But you press closer, letting your body warmth stabilize him as best as you can.

“Just stay with me, Joel. Please. Don’t—don’t leave me like this. Not when I...”

You falter, the words catching in your throat as tears threaten to spill. Your head rests gently against his chest, and you close your eyes, letting the quiet between you fill with everything you can’t quite say.

“Ellie needs you.”

Hours later, Ellie’s voice pulls you from the restless fog of sleep.

“Hey,” she whispers, crouched beside you with a medkit clutched tightly in her hands. You blink, grogginess weighing down your limbs as you untangle yourself from Joel’s side, slipping out from under his jacket. The cold rushes in immediately, biting at your skin, but the sight of Ellie’s determined face and the kit in her hands ignites a spark of hope.

You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you reach for the kit. The unmistakable smell of alcohol wafts out when you open it, revealing gauze, a small bottle of antiseptic, and the tools needed for sutures. Relief floods through you, threatening to spill over in the form of tears.

“Ellie,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you glance up at her. “You found it.”

She lets out a long, shaky sigh, her shoulders dropping as she nods. “Yeah. Took a bit, but I got it.”

You press your lips together, a mix of pride and gratitude swelling in your chest. “Good job, kid,” you murmur, setting the supplies beside Joel. He’s still feverish, his breathing shallow but steady, and you brush his damp hair away from his forehead before reaching for the suture needle and thread.

“I’ve done this before,” you say, your voice steady despite the nervous tremor in your hands.

“You have?” Ellie asks, her wide eyes flicking between you and the needle.

“It’s been a long time,” you admit, your mind drifting back to distant memories of your father and Frank. They’d come home with their share of injuries—cuts, gashes, wounds from their stubborn insistence on doing things the hard way. “But yeah. I’ve stitched up worse than this.”

Ellie swallows hard, her face a mix of determination and apprehension. “What do you need me to do?”

You glance at Joel, your fingers brushing his cheek as if to steady yourself. “I’m going to need your help holding him down if he wakes up,” you say softly, looking back at her. Your voice is calm, but the gravity of the moment weighs heavily in the air. “He’s not going to like this. It’s going to hurt.”

Ellie nods, determination settling in her expression. “I’m ready.”

You draw a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. The needle feels foreign in your grasp, but the movements come back to you as muscle memory takes over. You glance at Ellie again, her hands poised to steady Joel, and together, you begin. The room is filled with nothing but the sound of Joel’s uneven breaths and the faint clink of the needle as you work, every second stretching into an eternity.

Everything is quiet except for Joel’s ragged breathing and the faint rustle of your movements as you sit by his side. The air feels heavier now, the kind of stillness that presses into your chest and makes it hard to breathe. Ellie had gone out to scavenge, her promise to return with whatever she could find still echoing in your mind, but the hours since she left feel like an eternity. 

Joel’s skin is pale and slick with sweat, his fever unrelenting, and every shallow, uneven breath feels like it could be his last. You keep checking his chest, watching it rise and fall, each movement anchoring you to the present, holding you back from spiraling into fear. But even that tether feels fragile, like it could snap at any moment. He needs antibiotics, and he needs them soon.

You try to focus, your trembling hands moving to your bag as you search for anything useful. Nothing, it was everything you remembered you’d put in there. Nothing useful.

You move to his bag. Spare ammunition, rags, water—anything to help. Your fingers brush against random odds and ends: loose bullets, a dented canteen, an old, frayed cloth. None of it is enough. None of it feels like it will make any real difference.

And then your fingers touch something else, something that stops you cold. The texture is different—thicker than paper, folded neatly, as if it were placed there with care. Your breath catches as you pull it out, your heart pounding in your ears.

It’s a letter.

The edges are worn, but the folds are crisp, precise. Just as you remember. The weight of it in your hands feels disproportionate, as though it holds something heavier than just ink on a page. Your throat tightens as you turn it over, and the sight of the handwriting makes your stomach drop.

It’s unmistakable. The scrawling, familiar penmanship. Your father’s.

You blink rapidly, your vision blurring as the realization settles in. It’s addressed to Joel. The neatness of the fold, the careful way it was placed in his bag—it all feels deliberate, significant. You knew this letter. You’d given it to Joel yourself, back in the relative safety of your own home, trusting him to understand whatever your father had needed to say. But now… now it felt different, heavier.

He had kept it. Not as something to glance at once and discard, but as something worth carrying. Even through all this. Even now.

For a moment, you just sit there, staring at it, your mind racing. Why had he kept it? What did it mean to him? The questions tumble over each other in your head, tangling with the emotions already threatening to overwhelm you. Your fingers tremble as they grip the letter tightly, and you realize your heart is racing faster than it should be.

But before you can process it fully, Joel stirs beside you.

“Joel,” you whisper, leaning over him. His eyes flutter open, glassy and unfocused, but there’s something there—some faint spark of awareness. “Hey, you’re awake.”

His gaze flickers to you, his lips parting as he tries to speak. His voice is a raspy whisper, barely audible. “Go,”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “What?” you choke out, leaning closer, your throat tight and your eyes beginning to well. “Joel–” you whisper and your heart aches, a desperate kind of panic seizing you. You’ve never felt so useless in your life. If only you could do something, get medication, food, anything.

Joel’s hand shoots out, his fingers clutching the collar of your jacket with surprising strength. He pulls you closer, his eyes burning despite the fever dulling his gaze, “You take that girl and you go.” His voice cracks, but he doesn’t show weakness. He shoves you back with more force than you expect. You stumble, landing hard on the cold cement floor, your palms scraping against the rough surface. It stings, but not nearly as much as the ache that’s growing in your chest.

Your fingers twitch, tightening around the letter still clutched in your hand. The emotions bubbling inside you threaten to spill over, a storm of sadness, frustration, and anger knotting in your chest. How could he do this? How could he think you’d leave him behind, like he’s just some burden?

You swallow hard, blinking rapidly to chase away the tears stinging your eyes. But it’s no use. They gather anyway, blurring your vision as you look back at him.

Joel’s head lolls slightly, his breathing shallow and uneven, but that fire—his unrelenting stubbornness—still flickers in his gaze. It makes the ache in your chest even worse, anger and anguish twisting together into something almost unbearable.

You push yourself up slowly, your legs unsteady as you stand. The letter feels heavier now, the weight of it digging into your palm. Without a word, you turn toward the stairs, your movements stiff and mechanical.

Ellie’s voice breaks the silence as you reach the top. “Hey,” she calls, stepping inside, her breath visible in the cold air. “I saw a deer! But, uh... I lost it.”

You force yourself to nod, your expression unreadable. “Good,” you say, your voice quiet and strained. “That’s good.”

Ellie frowns, glancing between you and the stairs leading to the basement. “What’s going on? Is Joel okay?”

You avoid her gaze, brushing past her as you grab the rifle leaning against the wall. “He’s fine. I need some air,” you mutter. “Watch over him for now. If anything happens, you know what to do. If anyone shows up, lure them out on Callus before doubling back, you hear?”

Ellie’s eyes widen, her concern obvious. “Wait—what? Where are you going?”

“I’ll get the deer,” you say, your voice tight. You adjust the bow in your hands, avoiding her questioning gaze. “Just... stay here. Keep him safe.”

Ellie hesitates, her mouth opening like she wants to argue, but she doesn’t. Instead, she nods slowly. “Okay,” she whispers. “Be careful.”

“I will,” you reply, already stepping outside.

The cold hits you immediately, the sharp wind biting at your cheeks as you walk into the trees. The letter feels impossibly heavy in your hand, each step making its weight seem more unbearable.

You don’t go far, just enough to put some distance between you and the ache still sitting in that basement. When you find a tree at the end of the yard, you sink down against its trunk, the rough bark pressing into your back.

The letter is crumpled slightly in your grip, your fingers shaking as you stare at it. For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to unfold it. But the emotions swirling inside you—grief, anger, love—demand an outlet.

With a deep, shaky breath, you smooth the paper against your lap and carefully unfold it. The familiar scrawl of your father’s handwriting blurs as tears prick at your eyes. Slowly, you begin to read, the world around you fading as the weight of his words pulls you under.

[mocha000]

Good dose of hot and sweet. Thank you for another great ch!

I'm so tired but we must read and review.

"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." SHARE WITH THE CLAS PLSPLSPLS AHH!

Hot: "Especially the pup. Have you seen Tae's dick? Girl knots are like- so ugh." true. "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." aww hugs. but yoongi is feeling delirious/horny ehe "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." subby ahh. "Marks. His 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." "Every grit of his teeth says mine, and every twitch of his hands on your hips says keep going." "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." "Yoongi’s knuckles are white with how hard he holds your hips, doing his best not to guide your rhythm or disrupt it" ooh is he going to take over soon?? 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 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." that got me good ahh! "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)." i like that he's a little pathetic omg. "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." "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." aww. "Yoongi fucks the same way he talks, sweet but firm. He cums that way too. Warm and slow." ahhh "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." “One more, just one more for me. You made me cum until I couldn’t anymore so now it’s your turn.” "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." "But now, Jungkook crouches over you like an alpha might. Protective. Possessive. There is something syrupy sweet in the air, just below your skin." ohh the milk!!"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." SCREAMING AHH! "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." "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." Ahh dom mommy!

hot pt 2: “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?” “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."

Lol: “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." “You know” Namjoon hesitates, looking from Yoongi to Jin. “Popping a knot without ejaculating sperm is kind of medically dangerous-” "If I lick it, is it mine? While she rides it does it count if I lick it?” classic lol "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." “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." ""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!" love the chaos. "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?)" yeah lol "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." "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." lol your purple pic was accurate. "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." “Jin asked me not to intervene.” best alpha lol "Cute aggression? It must be cute aggression. He wants to squeeze and nibble and wreck you" "Jungkook bites your cheek. Hmm, squishy." Jk having cuteness aggression during all this is so funny lol "Jungkook's eyebrows come together and Tae teases, her fingers running against his cheek slowly filling." i imagined jk's face and it looks so funny omg. "No, everyone behave. She is not a chew toy." lol I say Hobi should go first! a chew toy for puppy! "Jungkook is a possessive little thing, hisses and splutters and clings to your front." "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.

“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." Lol their mix of responses. "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" YEAHH

"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." cute. "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." Aww :( "Yoongi's knot doesn’t belong to him. As his mate you have rights." yes lol

"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." he's still getting spanked?? lol "Whipping your hair from your face, cupping your cheeks, forehead to forehead." so sweet. Very cute that Yoongi lets her take charge for almost all of it.

"(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)." AWWW TT "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." cute.

"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." i want pets! how nice. "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." ?? praise? "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)." hell yeah! "There's a lot of squirting, mostly from you. Jungkook likes watching you squirt. It's so pretty." aww.

"(But you have a gut feeling that once you break and they put back together, you'll finally feel whole)." pretty line. "“Meanie Joonie” Jungkook giggles, the omegaspace haze so thick he can hardly string a coherent sentence together. “Meanie Minnie! Meanie Yoonie! Again! Wanna see!”" CUTE! i feel like we havent seen him in omegaspace in a while. the pack fighting over her milk lol "You are so perfect she could cry, she could knot the air with how horny it makes her." aww. "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." he's so cute TT "Hoseok only lets himself take one mouthful, shivers rising up and down his body before he moves aside and lets Jimin have a taste." boo.

"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." oh no :( "Their sweet milky pup, who could possibly be more precious?" eep im soft. "Namjoon looks at you, then blushes and looks away. You don’t know if you’ve ever made Namjoon blush like that." ohoho. how cute.

"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." ohh. "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." yeahh!

"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." LOL "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." true. hot and cute.

"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." :O ok but is it easy? "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." damn hot af.

"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" i cant get tired of your smut! spanking?! ahh yes

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

[prozac-shaped-urn]

whY is that literally 17 second long clip of j kissing the neck of a david koresh in waco the aftermath so fffffUCKing hot?? nothing happens. they don’t even lock lips. just a chirpy breathless grunt and some smooching sounds.

something is wrong with me.

[geneviveleocardius]

some husband material headcanons with simon riley

late-night garage dances are his quiet way of loving you. when the house is quiet and you’re both waiting for your daughter to get home from a party, he’ll pull you into a slow dance. he doesn’t say much, just rests his chin on your head as the two of you sway to soft music in the dim light.

if you’re too tired to shower, he’ll gently coax you into letting him wash your hair. his hands are rough but so careful, massaging your scalp in a way that makes your shoulders relax instantly.

when you’re at the beach, you trace your name on his back with sunscreen, leaving the rest bare. later, when the tan sets in and your name is etched on his skin, he looks at it in the mirror and smirks. he loves the quiet claim you have on him, even if he pretends to roll his eyes when you point it out.

simon takes his time applying sunscreen to you at the beach, even though he could be quick about it. he’s meticulous, rubbing it in gently over your shoulders and back, making sure you don’t miss a spot. “can’t have you burning, love,” he says softly. he always uses it as an excuse to trail his fingers along your skin, a subtle moment of affection.

he’s big on touch, even if he doesn’t always initiate it. his favorite moments are when you lay your head on his chest at night and trace the scars on his arms. he doesn’t always talk about them, but he likes the way you don’t shy away from them either.

he’s the kind of dad who stays up until he hears the door click after a late night out. he’ll mutter about the time under his breath, but he softens immediately when your daughter leans in to give him a quick hug before heading to bed.

if he hears you sigh in frustration while cooking or doing something around the house, he’ll quietly walk over, take whatever you’re holding, and finish the job without a word.

he doesn’t say it often, but he loves being domestic with you. folding laundry, fixing things around the house, or even grocery shopping together is calming for him.

simon keeps a picture of the two of you tucked in his wallet—a candid photo of you laughing. when he’s away, he takes it out to remind himself what’s waiting for him back home.

he’ll let you put ridiculous face masks on him during a lazy evening, even though he grumbles about it. “this better not make me smell like a bloody fruit salad,” he mutters, but he stays still for you.

he’s terrible at hiding his smile when he hears you laugh. even in the most mundane moments, your happiness is his favorite sound.

sometimes, he’ll sneak up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and sway you gently to a song only he can hear.

if your child ever talks back to you or says something disrespectful, simon doesn’t let it slide for a second. his voice is calm but firm as he says, “that’s your mum you’re speaking to. apologize—now.” he rarely raises his voice, but the weight behind his words is enough to make them realize they’ve crossed a line. later, he’ll sit down with them, explaining why respect is non-negotiable. “she does everything for us. you don’t ever treat her like that, understood?”

when you have surgery, simon steps into full caregiver mode, even though it’s not something he’s entirely used to. he carefully helps you into the bath, always making sure you’re comfortable and secure. his touch is gentle as he washes you, murmuring, “tell me if anything hurts.”

he dries your hair after the bath, combing it slowly so it doesn’t tangle. “you’re still as gorgeous as ever,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

he insists on carrying you to bed, even if you tell him you can walk. “don’t argue with me, love. you’re meant to rest.” he tucks you in, makes sure you have everything you need, and stays close by in case you need him during the night.

simon takes every opportunity to teach your child the importance of kindness, especially toward you. he models this by being gentle with you, always showing them how love and respect are expressed.

he’s a firm dad, but never unfair. when he has to scold your child, he always makes sure they understand why their behavior was wrong, but he’s quick to reassure them that he loves them no matter what.

during your recovery from surgery, simon takes over all the household duties. he’s not a great cook, but he’ll follow recipes to the letter to make sure you’re well-fed. when something doesn’t turn out quite right, he mutters, “bloody hell,” but doesn’t stop trying.

[fakebwitch]

reader being obsessed with rafe’s biceps and he wants to please her

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

rafe is obviously aware of how fitnessed and perfect his body is, and he also knows how obsessed you are. when you two fuck your hands are always somehow on his body, from when you ride him, holding yourself on his muscular legs or placing your hands on his chest, or when y’all are doing missionary, your nails dig into the skin of his back as he thrust hard inside you or tighten around his biceps.

speaking of biceps, they were your favorite thing. I mean, you loved every single thing about his body, his back, his shoulders, his abs, his thigh but biceps would do it for you everytime. you would drool every time you see him wearing one of his short-sleeved polo shirts, putting his muscular arm in perfect view, your eyes would carefully observe every single contraction, asking him to open a simple bottle of water or fix something that you had voluntarily broken just to enjoy the sight of his arms at work.

you loved having his strong arms holding you close to him, there was nothing that made you happier when at night, after a long day, his arms wrapped around your figure pulling you towards him, his grip firm as the heat of his body began to expand to yours.

rafe wasn’t stupid, he noticed after a short time your continuous eyes on his biceps, how you somehow tried to always have a hand on them and how you wanted rafe’s arms always around you. he was always ready to tease you about it, you would laugh everytime trying to hide your flushes.

obviously this obsession of yours grows when we talk about sex. having him chocking you while pounding into you, watching at the way his biceps flexed made you clench around his length, or when his fingers were buried inside your tight hole, you would force yourself to keep your eyes open even though all you wanted to do was to throw you head back just to watch the way his arm was contracting at the speed he was using and his veins on full display.

one day he proposed you something that left you in disbelief, not like you have never thought about something like that before but hearing him say it to you was totally different. you had stopped from grinding onto his bulge, looking at him with wide eyes while he just looked at you with his usual cocky smirk, your pussy clenching around nothing just at the idea.

“you’re just so obsessed princess, bet you wouldn’t mind riding it instead of grinding on my dick, would you?” he had proposed to you, his gaze fell down indicating what he was referring to, your hand tight around his biceps. you stared at him for what seemed like hours not knowing what to answer, suddenly you felt like you wanted to disappear. “don’t get shy on me now baby, use your words mhm?” he incited you, his hand moved from your hip to rest on your cheek, slowly rubbing his thumb on the soft skin as you rested your head on it, enjoying his warm touch.

“yeah… i would- i would love that” you answered, you didn’t even know where you had found the courage to accept something so dirty but that you wanted at the same time so much. rafe’s grin widened even more noticing the shyness in your voice, he could feel that you were insecure about it, he was quick to put his lips on yours in a small kiss. “don’t worry baby I got you, just use me like you prefer” he whispered to you a few centimeters from your lips, you bit your lip hearing such words, your most perverse dream was coming true.

“uhh f-fuuck… rafeee” you gasped moving your hips quickly, your head thrown back while you fully enjoyed the pleasure of your clit in contact with his contracted muscle, your moisture scattered all over the area, sliding along the elbow. “I know baby I’m here, keep going” he incited you, he looked at you from below with eyes full of lust groping his cock in the pants, a mess of his own pre cum in his boxer while enjoying the scene of his pretty girl rubbing herself on his biceps.

“i’m gonna- gonna..” your voice broken as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to reaching the peak, your legs began to hurt and your movements slowed down, you felt tears forming at the corners of your eyes worried that you wouldn’t be able to reach your orgasm but rafe was right there, and without you being able to say anything else he put a hand on the back of your thigh, pushing you to continue rubbing yourself on his biceps.

“there you go baby… make a mess all over me”. In no time you reached your orgasm, an almost pornographic moan came out of your lips as your movements stopped abruptly, your cum began to drip on his skin. slimy sounds filled the room while rafe helped you ride your orgasm with some other small push, before you fell in the place next to him, your legs tingled from the effort you had subjected them to.

“that’s it princess, was it good?” he asked you observing your fucked-out expression then moving his gaze to his arm, completely covered with your wetness.

“the best fucking thing ever.”

[littlelamy]

I'm not your enemy

credits: thank you to @mad3ylncline

The sandy building groaned under the weight of time, its cracked walls and sunken roof barely holding together. Dust and grit hung in the air, and the dim sunlight streaming through broken slats created an eerie haze around the tense group.

Rafe stood at the center of it all, the map clutched tightly in his trembling hands. His chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths. He glanced between John B, Sarah, JJ, and Kie like a trapped animal, his paranoia simmering just beneath the surface.

“Rafe, baby,” you said gently, taking a small step toward him. Your voice was steady, but your heart was hammering in your chest. “Just give John B the map.”

Rafe’s head snapped toward you, his jaw tightening. His eyes were glassy, tears threatening to spill over. “No!” he barked, shaking his head violently. “You’re just going to screw me like everyone else in my life!”

His voice cracked, and the rawness of his words echoed off the fragile walls. His fingers curled tighter around the fragile parchment as though letting go of it would unravel him completely.

“I know you will,” he muttered, his voice breaking as he looked at you. His hands trembled, and his gaze darted between you and Sarah. “You all will.”

You took a tentative step closer, hands raised to calm him. “Rafe, no one’s trying to screw you over,” you said softly. “We just need the map so we can find the crown. That’s it.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife. “Oh, yeah? And then what?” His gaze fixed on Sarah, a storm brewing in his eyes. “You’ll just take it for yourselves, won’t you, Sarah? My own sister would rather side with them than with me!”

“Rafe, that’s not true,” Sarah said, her voice trembling. She took a cautious step forward, but JJ grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

“Don’t,” JJ muttered under his breath, his eyes never leaving Rafe. “He’s a ticking time bomb right now.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Rafe snarled, his voice rising as he took a step back. The fragile map crinkled under his grip, and the group collectively tensed.

You watched him closely, your chest tightening at the desperation in his eyes. This wasn’t just anger—it was fear. He felt cornered, betrayed, and utterly alone.

“Rafe,” you said again, your voice calm and unwavering. “Look at me.”

His gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, his hardened expression softened.

“No one here is your enemy,” you continued, taking another step closer. “I’m not your enemy.”

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “They’ll screw me over, just like they did Dad, just like everyone else.”

“They won’t,” you insisted, your voice firm. “And even if they try, I won’t. I’m here, Rafe. I’m always here.”

He stared at you, his chest heaving. The cracks in his armor were widening, the vulnerability he worked so hard to hide bleeding through.

“Rafe,” Sarah said softly, her tone cautious but sincere. “This is what Dad would’ve wanted. He would’ve wanted us to work together.”

Rafe let out a harsh, bitter laugh, tears welling up in his eyes. “Yeah? Like you worked with him? You let him die!”

Sarah’s face paled, her breath hitching as the accusation hit her squarely in the chest. “He died taking a bullet for me, Rafe,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “He died protecting me.”

Rafe’s lip quivered, and tears began streaming down his face. His hands shook as he clung to the map, but the anger drained from his expression, replaced with pure sorrow.

Sarah’s heart broke as she stepped toward him. “I’m so sorry, Rafe,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. Rafe stood stiffly for a moment before his shoulders sagged, and he let himself lean into the hug. His tears soaked into her shirt as his walls crumbled, his sobs muffled against her shoulder.

When Sarah finally let go, her own tears glistening on her cheeks, Rafe turned to you. His face was still streaked with tears, his vulnerability laid bare in a way you’d never seen before. Without hesitation, you reached for him, your hands gently cupping his face.

“Rafe,” you murmured, brushing a tear from his cheek. His blue eyes locked onto yours, searching for something—comfort, reassurance, hope. You leaned in, your lips meeting his in a sweet, tender kiss. His hands instinctively found your waist, grounding himself in the moment.

When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his. “You’re not alone,” you whispered. “You’ll never be alone as long as I’m here.”

For a moment, it was as if the rest of the world melted away. Rafe exhaled shakily, his grip on the map loosening as he let the weight of his pain lift, even if just a little.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled softly, taking the map from his trembling hands. As the group exchanged nervous glances, you kept your focus on Rafe, your fingers brushing his one last time.

“We’ll figure this out,” you said quietly, holding his gaze as the group began to move out of the crumbling building.

He didn’t respond, but the flicker of hope in his eyes was enough.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'baby fever' - 18+ logan x f!reader

summary: after your first baby is born, logan realises he doesn't want to stop at just one. (4.4k) tags: erm no one look at me, logan has baby fever, fluffy beginning, established relationship, breeding kink, blowjob, p in v, wet & messy, nipple play, overstimulation, creampie (lots of them oops), lots of dirty talk, clit play, missionary + doggy style, dom!logan & kind of sub!reader, crying from pleasure, rough sex, kind of body worship, for the 'home' prompt for logan promptober.

logan swears he’s dreaming, he must be. there’s no possible way he got this lucky, right? he’s holding his own baby girl in his arms, bouncing her on his hip by the bedroom window, watching on in awe as she eagerly takes in the world around her.

the light dances in her eyes while the world passes by behind the glass, birds singing, trees swaying gently, autumn leaves twirling in their yearly gentle dance. everything is new to her, and logan can’t help but be struck by such a profound love. everything feels new to him now too.

he never thought he’d have this, never thought he’d deserve it. still doesn’t believe he deserves it but accepts the role with more honour than any other role he’s been bestowed before it. a father, him, logan, a father.

her eyes droop, and his smile widens more than he thought possible. he makes his way through to her room as he mumbles sweet little words of affection to her in a voice so high pitched that no one would recognise it's his.

you watch on from the bed, a warmth spreading in your chest. you could watch him like this all day. he was a natural, the paternal instinct coming so easily to him. logan had always felt this deep-seated need to protect. though he spent so many years in solitude with no path and insisted he preferred it that way, you knew differently from the moment you met him. logan was a pack animal, through and through.

his eyes land on you as he returns to the bedroom and approaches you, standing at the edge of the bed, reaching out to cup your cheek in a loving gesture. thumb tracing across your soft skin, he speaks, “you look tired too.”

you smile, eyes closing as you lean into his touch, “maybe a little.”

parenthood hadn’t been entirely easy, but you couldn’t have anyone better by your side.

logan carefully makes his way into bed beside you, pulling you against his firm chest as his hand finds your hair and begins to thread through the strands. you hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, soothing you, lulling you, though he could achieve that with his presence alone.

his eyes settle on the window, head tilting to the side. you can practically hear it, the cogs turning. logan might have seemed like a steel trap to others, but he may as well be translucent to you. “what’s up?“ you ask sleepily.

“oh,” he murmurs, he shouldn’t be surprised at this point that you’re alerted by his silent mannerisms, “just. . . thinkin’.”

and he was, thinking about you, about the baby.

“‘bout what?” you yawn.

logan pauses, “. . .would you ever want another one?”

your eyes shoot open and you lift your head to look up at him, you find his expression and realise he’s serious.

he flushes, just a little, but you notice, “never mind.”

a small laugh of disbelief leaves you, “logan howlett, do you have baby fever?”

he flushes deeper, what did that even mean? logan scoffs and you visibly see him retreat into that shell inside his mind.

“oh baby,” you grin, cuddling against his chest as you lean your chin against his shirt to continue gazing up at him lovingly, “you want another baby, huh?”

groaning, he rolls his eyes, “quit it.” he’s beetroot red now, a sight he only reserves for you, though it’s not as though he can help it.

but damn, the baby was only born a few months ago - he was already thinking of your second? the thought fills you with warmth, but more prominently, need. your eyes land on his flushed face as you bite your lip, wondering if he is thinking about filling you up right this very second.

". . . what'cha thinkin' 'bout?" you ask sweetly with feigned naivety as your hand slides down his torso to find the- oh. oh. he's already hard. you know what he's thinking about.

logan groans and tilts his head back when your hand makes contact, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. "nothin'," he lies, his hand covering yours making you squeeze around his length through the material.

your breath catches in your throat, a heat rising in your chest. "is that right?" you whisper, trying to stay in control. the thought of him taking you, hard and deep, whispering filth about how he's gonna make you a momma again over and over is making it hard to resist rolling over onto your back for him.

and he can sense it, can see it in your face, the way your brows twitch as he grows harder under your touch. it's so cute, actually, how hard you try, knowing he's going to pounce any minute.

but he plays your game, he lets you remain 'in control', though you're anything but.

slowly, you sit up on his lap and begin to unbuckle his belt. time isn't exactly a luxury you can both often afford, what with a newborn baby, but you're too in the moment to care about speeding things up just yet.

his hands rest on your hips, digits digging into the skin as he practices restraint. he wants nothing more than to buck up into you, to throw you on the bed and take you. but he waits. like a good boy.

once he's freed from the constraints of his jeans and underwear, you hum softly at the sight of him, long, thick and ready. your mouth waters at the view, and his eyes widen when you begin to lower your head towards his begging, leaking tip. slowly, oh-so slowly.

logans large hand cups the back of your head, easily engulfing you in his grasp as he guides you lower until he feels it. your tongue. it teases across the tip before you're suddenly wrapping your lips around him. his eyes widen further, letting out a grunt as you take him by surprise.

"holy fuck," he huffs in a grin, "hungry for my cock, huh baby?"

you know now that your control is gone, given up happily and submissively. you know it in the grip he has on your hair, the way he's easing you up and down on his cock. and you'd give him everything if you could, the stars in the sky, the whole world if it were possible.

"that's it, get me nice and ready. . ." he mumbles, losing himself a little in the pleasure, the words dripping from his tongue like honey.

you're not sure what deal logan made with the devil to have the ability to talk as sweetly yet as filthy as he does, as well as he does, but you feel entirely grateful as his sinful words serve to dampen your underwear. you moan against his hardening cock, savouring the way every prominent vein feels against your soft tongue.

he pulls you back, looking into your lustful hazy eyes. you look so pretty like that, he thinks, lips red and swollen from sucking so well, eyes hooded and unfocused because you're thinking about how good that cock would feel stuffed deep somewhere else.

"c'mere," he coos, a hand on your hip guiding you forward to sit closer on his lap, "we need to get you nice and ready too, don't we?"

a growl rumbles from the back of his throat as his eyes travel down the path of your body, resting at the apex of your thighs. he purrs in delight when he notices you're already soaked through to your shorts. "wow, that worked up just from suckin' my cock, baby? you really do want me. . ."

you're bright red, shifting needily on his lap. it's always like this, he drives you to the brink of insanity with need before he's even started. you crave him, crave that thick length filling you so perfectly like it always does, and fuck, you'd give him a baby, you'd give him a hundred babies if it meant you get to experience this over and over again.

"shh," he whispers, his thumb snaking down to tease you through your shorts, applying just enough pressure to have you panting, "there we go, gettin' you nice and ready for my cock, my pretty girl. . ." his eyes flit to yours before returning his gaze to the soaked fabric.

"i am ready," you whine through a choked moan. you're literally dripping.

logan shakes his head, tutting, "tsk, tsk. . . need you extra ready for what i'm gonna do to you, you think i'm just gonna cum in you once?"

holy fuck. your head spins, reeling at his words as you feel your pussy clench around nothing. the ache between your legs grows, almost unbearable, pleading to be filled, used. his name leaves your lips in what can only be described as a needy mewl.

"no," he continues, grabbing your chin and pulling you closer, "see baby, i'm gonna cum in you, over and over. 'till you're nice and full, it's all i've been thinkin' about." his breath ghosts against your lips, "and you're gonna take it like a good girl, aren't you? gonna give me another baby?"

you moan breathlessly, how can you even respond to that? instead you nod quickly, swallowing hard as you try in a futile effort to stop your head from spinning.

but he loves you like this, needy, panting, desperate for his cock. sure, he might have been the one blushing earlier, but you're certainly a pretty shade of red now.

"use your words," he whispers against your lips, teasing you with the promise of a kiss, and a whole lot more.

you feel yourself clench again, his thumb still rubbing soft circles against your clit through your shorts, "please."

"please what?" logan grins, loving how your face twists in frustration.

a whine, "please fill me up, want to give you another baby, please? please, fuck, just fuck me."

he can't help but laugh softly at the needy words spilling from your lips in a desperate attempt to coax him inside. and it's working. his body thrums with pleasure as he remembers how good you feel, how he fits inside you like you were made for him, how good you take it when he gets a little rough.

"that's a good girl. . ." he hums, gripping your hips and flipping you over onto your back. his towering muscled form looms over you, your body opening up automatically, legs spreading and hands by your head. you want him to take you, take all of you. now.

"love this body, was made for me y'know. . ." logan mumbles lovingly as he kisses his way down the column of your throat, hands rubbing at your hips before they begin to inch up your shirt. it rises until it covers your face, and he keeps it there as he nips at your chest. "hm, no bra?" you feel his devious smirk against your skin, tongue beginning to flick teasingly at a nipple.

your back arches, the sensations amplified by the loss of sight. fuck, he loves to watch you squirm like this, and those noises you make. . .

he gives equal attention to both nipples, licking and sucking and kissing your breasts with increasing intensity, smirking all the while. finally, he pulls the shirt from your head, your breath catches in your throat as you look down at him and meet his hungry gaze.

logan begins kissing along your tummy, nuzzling against your soft skin, so close to where you want him yet so far. you want to beg, but you don't get the chance, because soon he's pulling down your shorts along with your underwear. he's greedy too.

kissing the skin that's exposed to him, his kisses trail down your mound, ending at the top of your glistening slit. "ah," he grins, eyes glowing like a man of great discovery, "there she is, she's missed me huh?"

all breath escapes your lungs as he licks a stripe along your pussy, groaning at the taste as he does so. he buries his face in you, licking and nudging your clit with his tongue as he devours you. logan swears it feels better for him than for you, could eat you out all day, but that's not what he's here for this time.

"you're so wet, holy fuck," he swallows, panting softly against your skin, "so good for me, so good, just-" giving a few quick kisses to your pussy, he pulls back and removes his shirt, "don't move."

you almost laugh, why would you want to go anywhere? with a man like logan who worships the ground you walk on, kisses you like it's the first time every time and fucks you within an inch of your life every time - you'd be crazy to want to be anywhere else but here, beneath him, where you belong.

he's worked himself out of his jeans and boxers too, admiring the view beneath him as he takes his cock in his hand, slapping it against your slit. with each squeak that escapes you, his smirk grows wider, "love those noises you make, just for me."

you gasp and arch your back as he begins to rub his tip against your wet folds. you're not sure who he's teasing more, himself or you. a moan slips from your lips each time his cock glides up against your clit, sending sparks to your core.

"that's it, feel how hard i am?" he whispers, "yeah, gonna cum so hard in that pretty little pussy, baby, is that what you want?"

you can hardly take it anymore, "god, yes."

he grins, positioning himself as he hooks your knees on top of his arms as he presses down, almost folding you in half. you gasp and grip the sheets at this new position, and gasp even louder as he quickly and easily slips inside of you. "fucking hell," logan huffs, "i hardly even had to move, you want it so fuckin' bad don't you? feel how deep i can get like this?"

and god, you can. you're not sure you've ever felt him this deep. all you know is how good it feels, his cock straining against your tight velvet walls, finally filling you.

when he begins to move, it's like nothing else. he starts at a slower pace, slow deep strokes as his hips meet yours, driving his cock even deeper as you open up to him. his eyes flutter shut and you admire him above you, knowing you're making him feel as good as he's making you feel.

you find your voice again, and speak up, "your cock feels so good baby, don't stop. . ." you get what you secretly wanted, a moan sneaks from his lips. it's soft, wanting, mirroring the need in your own voice. "fuck, love it when you moan for me. . ."

his eyes snap open, a flash of vulnerability and then his lips are crashing against yours. he kisses you with a deep passion as he moves inside you. logan loves the man he becomes when he fucks you, loves that he can let go, be soft, be rough, be whatever he feels. you'll accept him either way, because you're always a spent mess in the end. all for him.

"takin' my cock so well, always do," he huffs against your lips, driving himself a little deeper, wet sounds filling the air as he slips in and out, "gonna feel even better when i make you cum a few times, when you're so sensitive, taking every last drop i give ya."

you moan and pant, nodding, wordlessly begging him to continue.

"and you'll take it, huh, baby? take it cus you wanna make me a daddy again?" he growls, pace increasing as he fucks you harder, primal instinct taking over, "wanna make me proud and let me fill you as many times as i can? many times as i want?"

holy fuck, you can hardly think straight. in fact, you can hardly think at all. there's one thing, one thought swirling around the base of your skull, you don't want him to ever stop.

you clench around his thick cock and his brows lower, pressing his forehead against yours as he pounds you into the mattress. the bed is squeaking, begging for mercy as he continues, but you feel too good for him to hold back anymore. "baby please-"

"baby please what?" he snaps back, panting as he leans further into you, pushing your legs back until they're almost at your ears. you'd be shocked at your own flexibility if you could think at all. "please fill you up? please make you a mommy again? please what, huh? speak, baby, i can't hear you."

gasping at his tone, you feel your pussy flutter around him. he's gonna make you cum, fuck, you're gonna cum so hard. "i- baby i'm-"

but he doesn't let you finish your sentence, not that you'd make much sense at this point anyway. his cock twitches inside you, almost begging to be milked, begging to fill you until you can't take any more. "gonna cum?" logan whispers, already knowing the answer.

and you can't answer, because you're a mess, gasping and moaning and writhing as his cock makes light work of your wet pussy. his thick length glides in, and out, driving deep to meet your cervix with every thrust.

"cum on this cock," a firm command punctuated with a deep thrust that knocks the air from your lungs, "c'mon, make me cum, you wanted it, didn't you? want me to knock you up nice and good."

your orgasm approaches, a warmth spreading through your lower stomach, rising and rising each time his hips meet yours in his relentless pace. you want to tell him that it feels so good, but your words get caught in your throat. and all at once, your climax rips through you.

it comes in waves, building until your walls are spasming around him and he's cumming too, hot white ropes of cum pushed deeper and deeper as his pace quickens. you're both cursing, panting as his cock pushes it deeper and deeper as your pussy flutters and gushes.

even as the climax fades, he doesn't falter. "told you," logan growls, leaning up to grip your thighs, lifting your lower half to the perfect angle as he keeps it suspended in the air in his tight grip, "gonna cum in that pretty little pussy as many times as i can, 'till i know you're carrying my baby."

it's so overwhelming, in the best kind of way. you wriggle as he begins fucking you again, the new angle causing your eyes to roll back as he hits a certain spot that has you sobbing. it feels so fucking good, both his words and his actions causing you to throb.

"that's it, i know you can take it," he soothes you, "that's my girl, c'mon. . ."

tears prick at your eyes, the pleasure once again building to a crescendo. you don't want him to stop, don't want him to ever stop. though you're so very sensitive, and so very tired, you don't fucking care, all that matters right now is him and the messy love you're making.

he feels a tightening in his gut, his mind spiralling, obsessed with the idea of having another child with you. "you like it when i breed you?" he whispers suddenly, testing the waters.

fuck, that word. did he just say he was. . . breeding you?

logan feels the way you clench around him at the mention of the word and he grins, "yeah, you like that don't you? take that fucking cock like a good girl, let me breed you."

"please-" you beg, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. he's really into this, and so are you, unlocking a whole new side to one another as he fucks you fervently.

how can he resist when you beg so sweetly? he's so sensitive, but his need for release chases him, overwhelming him with how intense his second orgasm is. he spills into you, gasping and grunting as his grip on your thighs tightens. "oooooh f-fuck," logan groans, "feel that? feel me fucking my cum even deeper?"

you're both lost in pleasure now, and with his stamina you know he's not done yet. he grips your hips, flipping you onto your tummy as he grabs your ass, pulling it up for him. keeping his cock nice and warm inside you, he pauses for a few moments.

"can you take another one?" he asks, panting. he'd never push you past your limits, leaning down against your back to give you a gentle kiss on your neck.

your second release is coming, and though you're exhausted, you need more. "yes," you reply, gripping the pillow as he immediately begins to move.

his head tilts back, his palm sliding down your spine, feeling your soft skin beneath his calloused hand and the sensation of your body bouncing back against him. one hand grips your hip as he begins his movements, slowly fucking you, taking his time.

he knows you're close, and he knows your second release will have him cumming a third time, so he focuses on your pleasure. "that's it baby, taking it so well. . ."

you groan into the pillow beneath you, muffled by the fabric. it all sounds so wet, both your release and his dripping from your aching cunt. you know you'll be sore tomorrow, but who the fuck cares? he's fucking you so good you're not sure you'll ever be able to think clearly again.

he's reduced you to a puddle, wet and begging for more.

"such a good girl for me, lettin' me breed you. . ." his hand trails around your front, tickling down along your tummy until he finds your clit. it's swollen, sensitive, and as soon as he begins to play with you, you're a squealing mess.

he grins against your ear, groaning roughly, "you can take it, know you can, make me cum one more time."

you bounce back against him, feverishly chasing each movement, each time he pounds you sending you spiralling further and further into pleasure.

"gonna fuck a baby into you," he kisses behind your ear, "feel all that cum?"

a whine is all you can manage, sweat causing your hair to cling to your forehead, whole body hot and desperate. all for him, always for him.

"yeah you do, take it," he snarls, huffing as he feels his own release build once more. oh god, this one might destroy him. you feel too good wrapped around him like that, the way your wet pussy takes him in so gladly, cause it's his. you're his.

"'m gonna cum-" you cry, sobbing into the pillow as your thighs shake till you can't take it anymore. you're flat against the bed now, his body behind you, taking, pounding against you relentlessly like a man deprived.

but he can't speak, can only communicate in growls and gasps as he explodes inside you, sending you propelling towards your orgasm. it hits you like a bullet, deep, hard, teetering on painful but quickly replaced with so much satisfaction that your screams sound like howls.

he continues working your clit beneath you, slowing his pace until you're both a sweating, panting mess of limbs.

it takes him a while before he can find words, bringing a hand to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear so he can see those features of yours he loves so much. "you alright?" logan asks with that rare soft voice he adopts when he's caring for you. his warm baritones make everything better, voice alone better than any sex.

"mh," you nod, world slowly returning to you in bits and pieces. he pulls out of you, taking a second to admire how very full of him you actually are. he can't help but bite his lip at the sight, watching as his cum leaks from your tight hole, fluttering from the loss of contact.

"didn't go too hard?" he asks, carefully and tenderly turning you onto your front as he grabs some spare pillows.

you shake your head, a smile curling on your lips as you bask in the afterglow, loving how sweetly he takes care of you. he lifts your hips with ease, placing some pillows below.

your eyes lock on one another and he grins, "what?" he asks, "said i was gonna get you pregnant, didn't i? gotta keep your hips elevated, keep me inside."

a flush falls upon your cheeks and you laugh breathlessly as he relaxes into the bed beside you, nuzzling into your neck. he fits against you so perfectly, arm wrapping around your waist while he presses gentle kisses to your skin.

but you feel a mischevious smirk tug on his lips against you, "what is it, logan," you ask in a drawl, grin taking over your features.

"well, was just thinkin'-"

"never a good idea, you, thinking. just leads to trouble," you tease.

he scoffs, "shut up," before continuing, "what're we gonna name out third baby?"

your eyes widen, "third?" he must have made a mistake, maybe he's too fucked out to think straight. you know you are.

"yeah," he grins, his hand snaking from your waist to rest on your tummy, giving it a gentle pat, "after this one."

"more?!" you gasp, slapping his hand with a giggle. "logan howlett." ugh, he's the worst.

he loves that reaction from you, he thinks it's cute you assume he's joking.

except, he isn't joking.

"yeah, c'mon, you think i'm gonna be able to stop at just two?"

you flush deeper, feeling his warm palm splay across your stomach as you tilt your chin down to look into his eyes.

"need names. lots of 'em." logan's eyes sparkle, he's trouble, always has been, and you love it. but you start to wonder if you should have bought a bigger house.

"start makin' a list. now."

[wriokitty]

i adore you (can’t you see you’re meant for me?) — ft. sylus

sylus likes to sleep late in the mornings, and you like to admire him. the two are just a series of steps that bring you to where you are now: on top of him

— word count: 4.7k words — it’s literally all pure filth with no plot idk what to say atp

— before you read: female reader ; established relationship ; sleepy sylus ; banter and teasing ; reader rides his abs (do not look at me) ; praise kink (it goes both ways tbh) ; blow jobs ; cum eating ; reader has an obsession with his veins (it is her not me okay?) ; sylus wraps his hand around her throat (but no choking) ; body worship + one clit kiss ; nipple play ; morning sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; creampie ; do not be fooled it is all pretty soft i promise

— comments: i am new to this game and i haven’t gotten too far go easy on me for this one :( i dedicate this to all my sylus loving nonnies in my inbox thanks for helping me figure out this game LOL. and kass. ily kass

Sylus sleeps more when the sun is out than when it’s not. You don’t mind it so much—not when the view is what it is.

(He’s pretty, and so is the sun. The two combined make for an even prettier picture. You think, if you weigh your options, there are certainly worse things out there than sitting beside your sleeping boyfriend and waiting for him to wake up.)

It’s hard to keep your hands to yourself, though. His hair is too tempting not to brush away from his face. And while your hand is right there, it’s a little impossible not to cup his cheek for a moment. And, well, if you’re already touching him, you might as well let your hand slide down to his chest and rub circles against the skin. He leans into your touch subconsciously anyway—it’s not hurting him. It’s helping.

(You like telling yourself plenty of things to justify your hand and his skin having an early morning rendezvous.)

“Bored, sweetie?” His voice is always deeper when laced with sleep than it usually tends to be. You stiffen, moving to pull your hand away, an apology already prepared on your lips for waking him when he catches your wrist, eyes still closed. “I didn’t say to stop, did I?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you huff, letting him guide your hand back to his bare chest. It rises and falls slowly, so warm and firm under your palm that it’s a little dizzying.

“Am I?” He cracks an eye open, “I was just enjoying a little tenderness. I wonder why I can’t ever seem to receive something so sweet when I’m awake.”

“Precisely this reason,” you say flatly. He raises a smug brow. Just to humor him, you add, “Your ego can’t handle it when you’re awake.”

“What, that you find me too irresistible not to touch?”

“Sylus, go back to sleep,” you grumble, shuffling away from him with a face that feels unbearably hot under his half-lidded gaze. “You’re easier to get along with that way.”

“I don’t know,” he all but purrs. In a swift motion—swift enough that you let out a shrill squeal—his hand tugs at your arm and pulls you close enough that he can hoist your body to sit on his lower belly. “We get along pretty well when we’re wide awake, don’t you think?”

His hand hikes up your (well, technically his) shirt and rests on your hip, nothing but the thin fabric of your panties separating you from him as you’re seated on top of him. You shiver lightly when his thumb caresses your hip bone, a satisfied hum pulling from his throat at the feeling of goosebumps rising against your skin. 

“Sylus,” you breathe, squirming over him—but you can’t say much else because you cut yourself off with a soft gasp when you hear the distinct sound of something tearing. 

Fabric. 

More specifically, your fabric. Your underwear—which was a rather nice pair too, you think woefully—is torn into two pieces, one held in Sylus’s hand like some form of victory, while the other falls against his belly with nothing holding it together around your hips. 

You blink. He gives you a large Cheshire grin.

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says, not so apologetically, “They were just in the way.”

“I liked those!” You hiss, glaring at him, “They were nice!”

“What, you don’t think I can buy you more? I could buy them faster than I could rip them, I’m sure.”

You have your doubts about that last part—but it’s still persuasive enough that you’re no longer as mad as you were just a moment ago. But you’re still petulant, pouting as you huff, “You ruin everything.”

“Mmh,” he hums, closing his eyes, voice still a low drawl from sleep as he says, “Are you sure? Because I can feel you dripping already, sweetheart.”

Shame floods your system quickly, but lust is faster. Stronger, too, perhaps—because you don’t have it in you to be ashamed for too long before you grow impatient. With a deeper pout, you press your hands against his chest, leaning lower until your mouth hovers over his. 

“Can you blame me?” You breathe against his lips. “Just look at you.”

He stiffens. Just barely, of course. Just enough that you can hardly even detect it, but you do. You do because you know him. And you know that when Sylus teases, it’s really just to deflect from his need to shift the attention to yours—like he doesn’t want you just as bad. Like he’s not just as hard as you are wet in his boxers. Like he doesn’t need to feel you just as badly as you need to feel him. 

But he likes to keep the upper hand. It starts with two hands on your hips, firmly squeezing them before slowly rocking them against his abs. Your bare cunt (courtesy of him destroying a perfectly good pair of panties) glides along the ridges and indents of his muscle. Very well-defined ridges and indents of muscle, too. You tense, letting out a shaky gasp as your clit rubs against his hard-planed physique. 

“If you like it so much, why stop at just a look?” He chuckles, “You’re more than welcome to feel, too, sweetheart.”

He’s so sickeningly proud of himself, you can’t help but think bitterly as soon as your hips start grinding against him of their own accord. He’s so pleased and amused and deeply content with the sight of you falling apart over him. His eyes are hungry, and they don’t stray away from you for a single second. They don’t miss a single twist in your expression, nor do they have the decency not to stare shamelessly at the image of where your pussy meets his midsection, where your slick pools and coats his skin and makes it glisten as you make a mess on him. 

He hums, large hands leaving your waist buried in their frames as they guide you at a slow, steady pace. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grins—and oh, he’s aggravatingly happy as he laughs breathlessly, “You look like you’re about to fall apart. Don’t worry, I’m right here. You can’t fall far.”

You would say something smart if you could. Maybe even reach back and palm over his crotch that’s rudely tight against his boxers. But you can’t. Not when your clit rubs against his warm, heated skin and leaves jolts along your spine. All you can manage is a pathetic, “S-Sylus, please—”

“Oh? Please what? Please more?” He coos.

Something of a dull ache builds into this deep, throbbing need to feel your walls hug around something. To constrict around and latch onto something warm and big and full—something like him. Something like the way he fucks you into the mattress and makes you feel like he’s so deep in you, you can feel him in your throat. 

That’s what you want—but of course, you’re naive if you think that’s what he’ll give. For now, at least. For now, he’ll tease, and tease, and tease until he can watch you crumble just the way he wants to witness. And you’re close to that, too—you know it, and so does he. He can tell by the way your wetness drips onto him in a messy pool, making your cunt drag against him easier, smoother. He can tell because he can all but feel the quiver of your walls clenching around nothing, empty and desperate for some sort of building friction. And he can especially tell because of your face—that devastating look on your face when you’re so close to the edge you can just practically cling to it with the tips of your fingers as it dangles teasingly in front of you. 

“More,” you plead, “Want you. Want to feel you.”

“Oh, but you’re almost there,” he says in faux sympathy, soothing you with a sleepy, smug little grin. “Surely, you can take it just like this, can’t you? You’re better than that—I know you are.”

His words take you to the edge. You plummet off of it, in fact, practically collapsing against his chest as he holds you upright with a firm, strong grip and guides you through your orgasm. You gush around nothing, making a wet, sticky mess on his skin as you cum against him, grinding your clit as much as you can along every indent along his hard, built muscle. 

“Sylus,” you whimper, “oh—f-fuck.” Your body quivers for a few more moments before you slump against him, burying your nose into his neck. “You’re despicable,” you bite the skin lightly.

He laughs. It’s low from the sleep that’s still clinging to his voice but boyish enough that your heart skips a beat. “Am I? You seemed to enjoy it.”

You shuffle to curl into him more, but your leg brushes against the bulge in his underwear—a small, barely-there sound pulls from his throat. Something caught between a gasp and a moan that makes you pause before you grin against the crook of his neck.

“Guess I should pay you back, hm?” 

He watches, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded as you pull away and kiss from his collarbone to his pecs. A rise of goosebumps litters his skin, too—just like they did on your skin earlier. You silently revel in that victory, making your way lower, lower, lower. But it’s painfully, obnoxiously, ridiculously slow. 

“Don’t be a tease, sweetie,” he hisses, grunting as you kiss down his torso, the well-defined muscle of his abs flexing under every touch of your lips. 

“Who, me?” You blink, batting your lashes sweetly, “Oh, I’d never, baby.”

Your lips graze over the skin that’s still marked with your essence as you kiss and suck along his torso, a trail of marks left in your wake and declaring him yours. You can taste yourself from just a few moments ago—the moments when you rocked your hips into him and fell apart, when he held you through it with a sleepy smirk. The image of his smug face makes you glance up at him with a flustered look, and almost as if he already knows, his gaze is on you. Waiting. Smug here in person just as much as he was in your memories.

“What a naughty thing,” he drawls, teasing glint in his eyes. “Did you get a taste of yourself? I’m sure now you have an idea of why I find it so…addictive, don’t you?”

He’s filthy. Cocky, too. And more often than not, he’s absurdly prepared with smart comments. Just to even the playing field a little, you decide he could use a little relentless teasing of his own. 

“Oh, I can think of a thing or two just as addictive,” you smile innocently—and just like that, you lean in to kiss against a pale, blue line across his porcelain skin, pulling away to admire the veins that mark his body. Something in you aches for him all over again—something that you don’t like to admit happens from just the sight of something like his veins. But you pay careful attention to them anyway, leaning down and pressing soft, feather-like kisses against his lower belly, feeling him stiffen tightly underneath you as his breath gets labored and slightly erratic.

He’s impatient. You glance down at him, cock hard and strained against his boxers, the beginnings of a wet patch dampening the skin from pre cum dribbling from his tip. You almost feel bad. 

Almost. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of your games?” He grits, involuntarily twitching his hips to chase some friction. 

“I could ask you the same question,” you snort. 

“Yet, it seems I’m always the one spoiling you,” he retorts. 

There’s some bit of merit to that, you suppose. So you give in, humming as you kiss along his v-line, one finger looping under his waistband while giving a small tug downwards. He lifts his hips instantly, letting you pull off the offensive piece of clothing that separates him from your touch. 

It’s flushed, his cock. Swollen, flushed with a pretty rosy shade at the tip, and glistening with leaking pre cum. You lean and give the thick vein along the underside a series of kisses tracing upwards before pressing a delicate one to his tip. He groans, and his cock twitches at the contact, his eyes fluttering closed as he bites his lip. 

“Pretty,” you observe, smiling softly at the sight of him. 

He scoffs, lips almost a pout as they curl into a frown. “Then do something about it,” he insists. 

You think you’ve sufficiently teased him enough, so you do—you take him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, as your tongue and the wet heat of your mouth envelop him and make him tense for a moment before his body goes slack. A deep, throaty groan rings through the room, the sound making something do a flip in your lower belly. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, breathing heavily. “You…you’re so good at this.”

The praise does something to you that you’re not proud of. Some flash of an ache deep in your core that you don’t want to focus on, so you pay closer attention to him instead. Your tongue swirls over his tip as your head bobs up, tracing down that pretty vein of his as you take him down your throat once more. What you can’t fit in your mouth—because there is enough of him that you can’t fit in your mouth—you pump with your fist, wrapped around the base of his shaft. 

Sylus has a lot of veins. You admire them long enough to know them all by heart. The ones along his hands that you love to trace when you hold them in yours. The ones along his arm that you love to eye when he’s working out. The ones along his abdomen that you trace every once in a while with the tip of your finger when you have him to yourself in private. And the long, pretty one along this inner thigh—the one you see only when you’re like this: between his spread-out legs with your mouth around his cock. 

Your free hand moves to lay over this thigh, gently rubbing into the skin as if to anchor him as he throws his head back and groans. Your eyes are trained on him, staring up at the twists of pleasure in his expression and the crinkles in his eyes as he closes them tightly and moans. But you don’t have to look at your hand to know your thumb is tracing along that vein. You know it better than you know yourself, you think—his body is so easy to memorize. So easy to get to know and keep ingrained in your brain forever. 

His thigh flexes under your touch, and you hum around him, the vibrations around his length making his breath hitch as he curses under his breath. 

You pull away with nothing but a string of saliva connecting you to him, his eyes glancing down at you sharply for the interruption. But you smile, equal parts soft and equal parts smug. Gently, you press a wet kiss to his thigh, right over the same pale blue line you traced just moments ago, as you murmur, “You’re so pretty. You know that?”

“I’m flattered,” he says tightly, warily staring down at you with hungry, desperate eyes. “I’m sure you can save the flattery for later, though, can’t you?”

“But what if you think I’m just using you for your body?” You gasp dramatically, “Can’t have that, you know. I have to appreciate you more.”

“Teasing can easily be reciprocated, you know, sweetheart,” he grits, “Or have you forgotten that so quickly?”

“Oh, I’m aware. I’ll take my chances.” Your lips trail up his thigh until it reaches the base of his cock. You press another kiss against it, murmuring a quiet, “I love you.”

His cock twitches—it’s like it responds to every soft word of affection and every littlest bit of praise. For all the denying and for all the impatience, too, Sylus loves the attention. Thrives under it, even—it does something to his ego that you know you probably shouldn’t help stroke, but you can’t help it. 

You press one more kiss to his swollen tip before murmuring, “Mine,” and then you take him down your throat once more—faster this time. Your head bobs up and down his length, lips wrapped around him as you swallow every now and then. 

His hand flies to his hair, tugging at the soft, silvery strands as he groans deeply, hips pushing up to meet your pace and thrust deeper into your mouth. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he hisses, “Just like that, sweetheart—shit.”

He spills down your throat not too long after. Warm, sticky ropes of cum that paint your mouth with every twitch of his cock, filling you enough that some spills from the corner of your mouth, dripping along your face and collecting at your chin. You swallow what you can, working him through his orgasm, listening to the sweet, lust-hazed sounds he makes as pleasure burns through every nerve of his body. 

He slumps back when he’s finished, panting with an arm over his eyes while you wipe your chin and swallow before climbing up his body and slumping on top of him. He wraps an arm around your waist instantly, humming lowly as his large, warm hand rubs into your lower back. 

“Had your fun?” He raises a brow. 

You grin cheekily, kissing his jaw as you murmur, “I think you had more fun than me, but what do I know?”

He chuckles. It’s low, and the sound vibrates through his chest so that you can feel it under you. There’s a small bead of sweat along his temple, and his face is flushed a soft shade of scarlet that you admire—it brings out the deep crimson of his eyes even more from here. 

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper. 

“How many times will you remind me of that?” He asks, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting your face up, and inspecting you carefully. “You’re making me feel bad. I haven’t reminded you how stunning you are nearly enough times.”

“You could always start now,” you wink, “It’s never too late.” He laughs again. Deep, genuine, soft. Sylus is a lot of things. You think your favorite is in love. 

“Do I really have to remind you?” He whispers, voice husky as he slowly shifts your body to lay under his, flipping you over as he hovers over you. “You don’t already know how beautiful you are—how you drive me insane?”

“A reminder wouldn’t hurt,” you blink innocently. “What if you’re secretly getting tired of me?”

His eyes flash with something dangerous at that. You only meant it as a joke, of course—he loves deeply. So deeply, you don’t think you’d escape him even if you wanted to. (Not that you do, of course. You’re quite happy knowing your place is beside him.) You know he’s never tired of you—quite the opposite, in fact. 

But you like teasing him. Getting under his skin enough that his hand moves to your throat and wraps around it firmly—not quite tight enough to block your air flow, but enough to serve as a light warning. 

“You think I would get tired of you?” He challenges. Offended. In disbelief. “Tired of this?”

Just like that, the familiar sound of fabric tearing rings through your ears again. It’s a sound you seem to be getting more and more used to the longer you date Sylus. And yet, every time, it pulls the same sound of disbelief from your throat as you gasp at his audacity. But before you can speak, before you can scold him for ripping your (his) favorite shirt straight off of your body, his hands curve around your tits, molding against them perfectly as if they were made to cup them. His thumbs roll over your nipples, humming in approval as you whine softly at the feeling. 

“Sylus,” you pant. (Regretfully, you think that’s the only collection of syllables you can manage anymore on this fine morning.) “W-wait—”

“Wait?” He pretends to gasp in shock, “But we’re just getting started. I was just about to show you all my favorite parts of you—they never get old. Would you like to see?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he leans down, latching his lips around one pebbled nipple, sucking and nipping lightly at it as his thumb rolls over and pinches the other one. Your back arches into his touch, a soft moan spilling from your lips as he grins against your chest. 

“Here’s a favorite, for starters,” he murmurs. “And here—” he kisses along your belly and makes his way to your hip bone, biting lightly at the flesh and making your breath hitch, “—this is certainly a memorable place too, isn’t it? Can’t keep my hands off of it.”

Finally, his hands slowly pull your legs apart, exposing the wet, dripping mess that is your cunt, folds puffy and waiting for him. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your clit, smiling at the small whimper you let out from the sensitive touch before he says through a low, breathy whisper, “This, however…this has to be my favorite part of all.”

“Okay,” you whine, pulling at his arms with a plea, “I get it, okay? I need it, please.”

“Well then,” he huffs out a soft laugh, “Who am I to deny?”

He’s level with you before you can blink—mouth on yours with a heavy, heated kiss that sends your brain into a fogged state as you kiss back. All you can register is soft flesh, pressure against your mouth, the taste of his tongue on yours, and hot and heavy breath seeping into your lungs while he inhales yours. It’s slow, the way he kisses you—but still undeniably needy. He chases after your mouth as soon as you pull away to breathe, a soft gasp pushing past his throat at the loss of contact. As if it might kill him. As if he might die without your breath down his throat, keeping him alive. 

“Do you want it, sweetheart?” He breathes erratically, “Because I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

“I want it,” you practically beg, “I want you.”

He’s hard again—stiff between his legs and throbbing at your words enough that his cock does a little jerk on its own, like it’s responding to you itself. He drags it along your entrance, rolling slow circles against your folds and coating his tip in your slick, earning a sharp inhale from you as he groans at the teasing friction against the head of his cock.

“I always want you,” he breathes. 

He pushes past your folds as he speaks the words against your mouth, letting you swallow up the low moan he lets out as your walls wrap around him little by little. It’s painstakingly slow. Inch after inch after inch until the blunt head of his length presses deep into you, nudging against a soft, sensitive spot in your walls that makes your whole body react with a quiver. He curves into you perfectly, thick and deep and so, so full. 

“Ready?” He smiles tenderly, gripping the fat of your thighs and hooking them around his waist, leaning to kiss one of your knees as you melt into the mattress and nod. 

“Please,” you whine, “Need it—need you.”

There’s a sharp thrust of his hips at that—he pulls out until he’s almost completely left your warm cunt before slamming back in past your folds, pressing mercilessly against your sensitive spot. It’s partly because he has your body memorized but mainly because his body is practically made to mold into you. It’s like he fits you perfectly, curves into the shape of your body like the shape of his was hand-made to pair with yours. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you see past his exterior the most. When his eyes hold the most emotion, staring at you like he can’t believe you’re his. When his hands shake for once because he doesn’t know if he deserves the weight of you in his hold. When his breath is the most labored and uncontrolled because you steal every breath from his lungs, and selflessly, he gives up air for you. When sweat coats his skin and makes his hair cling to his forehead because when he loves you is when his body is most responsive, most affected. 

When Sylus fucks you is when you love yourself most. Because how could you not when he pays such close attention to you? Thumb finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles just the way he knows drives you crazy, watching your face closely for every reaction? How could you not when close is not nearly close enough, when he presses his chest against yours and buries his face into your neck to all but melt under your skin? It makes you feel desirable. Beautiful. Lovable. 

So easy to want.

So easy to lose control to.

So easy to need. 

“You feel that, don’t you?” He mumbles, panting harshly as he grunts when you squeeze around him at the sound of his labored voice. “Feel me? How badly I need you? How crazy you drive me? Feel how hard I am for you? Don’t tell me you think I’d ever get tired of that.”

“I know,” you whine, “I know, I know, baby—I promise.”

You let out a small squeal when he angles your leg higher, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pressing harshly where you need him most with his tip in a dizzyingly punishing pace and a harshly rough deepness that makes your vision blur. Almost go blank, even.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands.

“I love you!”

“Tell me you need me,” he adds, so selfish and needy for your approval. To know you’re nothing without him like he’s nothing without you. 

“N-need…fuck, I need you,” you stumble over your words as your orgasm comes closer and closer, creeping up on you enough that you can’t catch your breath fast enough to keep up with him.

“Tell me you’re mine.” This time, it comes out as almost a plea.

“Yours,” you sob, body on the precipice of breaking all over again, “Yours, yours, yours.”

You cum as soon as you say it. Harder than maybe ever—it’s like being reminded that you’re his makes your body react tenfold. You fall apart with a shrill cry of his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a bruising kiss as your nails press indents into his skin. 

He groans in pleasure at the slight pain, melting against your lips, an open-mouthed, wet kiss working him up to his own orgasm. His first one was a slow build-up—but this one happens quickly, coming out of nowhere and hitting him full force, his hips stuttering for a moment and losing rhythm as he sloppily thrusts into you. 

Yours. Yours. Yours. 

Your voice rings in his ears, aiding him through his pleasure as he fucks his thick, sticky release deep into your folds, sharp thrusts that match the harsh twitching of his cock. 

“Ngh,” he grunts, “Sh-shit, sweetheart.”

Finally, when you’re both done, breaths frenzied and harsh as you try to make up for the lost air in your lungs, he slumps over your body and hides his face into the crook of your neck, practically purring as your shaky hand buries into his sweaty locks and strokes the soft, silvery strands. 

It’s quiet, just the sound of your breathing eventually shifting from heavy to slowed as you finally catch it, the quivering of your body dissipating, too. Your fingers journey their way from his scalp to the back of his neck, lightly making a feather-soft trail along his bare back as he shivers from the touch.

“Don’t fall asleep after I showed you a good time,” you pout, “It’s rude.”

“You were the one that woke me for a good time,” he mumbles, amused. “That’s equally as rude.”

“I did not,” you huff, “You were the one who escalated it. I just wanted a peaceful morning.”

“I don’t know,” he grins against your skin, pressing a chaste, warm peck where it's closest to his lips, “I’m feeling pretty at peace, wouldn’t you agree?”

so uh..........basically i got the card where u measured him for clothes and i saw a vein in his abs and lost my mind. so. here is the product of that. i REFUSE to be told this is not a completely totally normal reaction. thank you!

[ddejavvu]

omg pls pls pls hotch x nerdy reader like everyone would think you’d be the perfect match with spencer, having the biggest love of reading and all things art, literature, sci-fi and all things nerdy but NOPE it’s hotch who catches your clumsy eyes and he wouldn’t have it any other way!

You're right in the middle of reading about the USS Enterprise's next big adventure when your novel is rudely whisked from your hands, and a strong arm wraps around your waist, yanking you back into a firm chest.

"You were going to fall down the stairs," A deep timbre comes from behind you, and you glance around bewilderedly to find yourself, in fact, at the entrance to the stairwell instead of the elevator. Evidently you'd been too engrossed in your reading to realize you'd gone past the elevator bay and into the stairwell, and you'd have fallen right down the concrete steps if it weren't for Aaron's help.

"Thanks." You stammer, struggling to free yourself from his tight grip, "Aaron- Hotch, lemme go. I'll pay attention from now on, just- don't let anyone see us."

"I don't care if anyone sees us right now. I care that you were so distracted that you almost fell blind down at least one set of stairs, if not seven." His eyes are stern as they regard you, but loving as the reason.

"I know! I know, I get too into it." You try prying your book from his hands but he flips your bookmark into place and tucks the pocket sized novel into his suit jacket lining, "Hey!"

"I'm confiscating this until you're back from the deli. You can have it back when you're sitting down at your desk."

"Agent Hotchner, that's hardly your right to take away a subordinate's property."

"It's my boyfriendly duty to make sure that my girlfriend doesn't plummet to her death with her nose in a book."

You're definitely stable on your feet now, and you try one more time to shimmy out of his hold to no avail, "Aaron! Someone's really going to see, come on."

"Promise me." He glares at you, a slight squinting of his eyes that makes you understand every single squirming unsub for their fear of him.

"Okay, okay! I promise." You nod vehemently, and he lets your waist go. You straighten your blazer, smoothing a hand down your trousers, "Now, can I please have my book back? I promise I won't read while walking anymore."

"You can have it back when you get back from the deli." He repeats, "You can pick it up from my office when you bring me a pastrami sandwich on rye."

"Pickles?"

"Extra. Here." Aaron fishes his wallet out of his pocket, handing you his card, "Get something we can split for dessert. And you'd better not have a backup novel hidden in your purse for the walk there."

For the record, you do, but Aaron's firm glare is enough to dissuade you from using it.

"I don't! I'll be back in twenty minutes." You promise Aaron, tucking his card into your pocket and entering the stairwell on purpose this time, "Be careful with my book!"