#we could use a little light and a little love :')))))

[jayybugg]

drunken confessions

Theodore Nott x FemRavenclaw!Reader

Summary: Theo drinks a little bit more than he should....

Warnings: Drinking, No use of Y/N, Only mentions being in Ravenclaw once, and very cute???

Word Count: 1.6K

Note: Long time no see, my loves! I took a really long hiatus abruptly because life was kicking my ass badly. I decided that my first fic back should be a Theo fluff because who would I be if I didn't give this boy all of my attention? I hope you guys all enjoy it.

Banners by @cafekitsune

Music boomed through the Slytherin common room as you tried to navigate the sweaty bodies and screaming teens. You were trying to find Theodore, the person who had invited you. It was a celebratory party for Slytherin winning the quidditch game against Hufflepuff. You were in the Ravenclaw house but are good friends with many people in Slytherin.

"Oy," Draco pulled you to the side, "Looking for Theo?"

"Yeah, you've seen him?" you asked, gripping his arm so no one could separate you both. Draco nodded, pulling you to a separate room where Pansy, Daphne, Blaise, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo sat.

"Finally, you're here." Daphne pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear, "Drunk pants over there have been asking about you for the past hour."

You glanced over at Theo, who was very drunk. "He never drinks this much." You whispered back to Daphne. She shrugged. "He caught the stitch. Winner of the game tonight."

You nodded, walking over to Theo and sitting next to him. He immediately grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. "I've been waiting for you all night," Theo said, speaking slowly so his words didn't get slurred.

"I'm sorry. Why'd you drink so much without me?" You asked, tapping softly on his wrist. "I didn't mean to." Theo said, "Won the game, so people had given me a bunch of drinks."

You nodded, allowing Theo to go back to being the life of the party. Enzo sat down next to you, to keep you company as the party continued.

"So, what's your excuse for not being at the game tonight?" Enzo asked.

"That project for Transfiguration. My partner is an idiot who waited last minute to do his part, so I had to help him. I feel bad for missing it." You said, taking a sip of your water.

"Theo was upset that you weren't there. Probably what motivated him to win the game. That boy is obsessed with you," Enzo said, nudging you. You cleared your throat, feeling a sudden sense of nervousness. "We're just friends, Enzo."

"For now." Enzo wiggled his eyebrows. You laughed at him, rolling your eyes.

Did you like Theo? Yeah, but you didn't think he would like you back. He had a lot of girls on him and he could choose any of them. You were so wrapped in your mind and your conversation that you didn't notice that Theo had wandered off until you heard your name being called.

"Take Theo back to his dorm, please!" Blaise pleaded as he and Mattheo held a nearly blacked-out Theo up. You hopped up, grabbing Theo from them.

"Oh, hey, pretty girl." Theo drunkenly grinned at you. You smiled back. "You should've stopped drinking, Teddy."

"Really should've." Mattheo agreed. "You know where his dorm is. Don't worry about cleaning up down here, we got it."

You nodded, saying your goodbyes to everyone before walking upstairs to Theo's room.

"Pretty girl." Theo dragged out the pet name. "Your hair is so soft."

"Thanks, Teddy." You opened the door to his room, switched on the lights, and put him on the bed.

"Come on, let's get you in pajamas." You tapped his nose lightly, making him smile at you.

"You're so pretty, pretty girl. That's why I call you 'pretty girl' because you're so fucking pretty. Sometimes I think you're otherworldly because of it," Theo gushed, falling back on his bed. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the compliments flowed from Theo's mouth.

"Thank you, Theo. Here, put this shirt on." You handed the shirt to Theo, who shook his head no. "I like to be shirtless."

Theo pulled his shirt over his head and threw it in the hamper. You tried your best not to stare at his chest before handing him a pair of pants.

"You're taking good care of me, pretty girl. I wish you could always take care of me. Merlin, I love you so much." Theo spoke again. You felt your eyes widen as you looked at him. "What?" You said softly.

"I love you like I'm so in love with you. I just want to be with you all the time." Theo continued. You cleared your throat, pushing him under the covers. Theo was clearly saying anything to you because he was drunk. If Pansy or Daphne were here, he would probably say the same thing. You forced yourself to repeat that to yourself repeatedly so you could believe it.

"Get some sleep, Theo, goodnight." You switched off his light as you swung his door open. "Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you." Theo said.

You quickly shut the door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself. You didn't know how to interpret what had just happened. Theo admitted to being in love with you. Or did he? He was drunk, so he probably wasn't serious. Yeah, he was drunk. You took a deep breath before making your way back downstairs.

Mattheo saw you hurry down the stairs and raised his eyebrow at you, "You good? Is Theo okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. I'm just gonna go back to my dorm," You said. Mattheo eyed you, "What happened?"

"What? Why would anything happen?" You asked, diverting your eyes anywhere but to Mattheo's.

"..."

You sighed, glancing down at your feet, "Theo said he was in love with me."

The room froze as everyone turned their heads to look at you. Suddenly, you felt tiny. "What? Why are you guys staring at me like that?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just...." Daphne glanced at everyone, "We didn't expect Theo to confess that when he was drunk."

"Yeah, I had galleons on an angry confession followed by an angry, passionate kiss," Draco said, causing Pansy to hit him in the arm.

You blinked. Confess? Confess as in.... he's been holding this in for a long time?

"Wait, so he's telling the truth, and you all knew it?" You asked. Everyone made noises in agreement.

"I mean, everyone can see how head over heels he is for you. You were the only one denying it." Blaise said. Your face felt hot, and you shook your head, "I'm going to my dorm."

Everyone laughed, bidding you goodbye.

Theo woke up the next day with a terrible headache.

"Ahh, there's our champion." Blaise's teasing voice caused Theo to groan.

"Why would I ever drink that much?" Theo asked, mainly to himself. Enzo laughed, setting a cup of water and some medicine on Theo's bedside. "I don't know, but it was quite entertaining to see you get taken care of by your pretty girl." Enzo's voice was teasing and light.

Theo's face immediately heated at the idea of acting like a fool in front of you. "Did I do something stupid in front of her?"

Blaise and Enzo shared a look before shrugging. Theo looked at both of them. "What? What did I do? Oh, Merlin, tell me I didn't embarrass myself."

"I wouldn't say you embarrassed yourself," Blaise said.

"But sober Theo definitely wouldn't have confessed to her that he's in love with her," Enzo said.

It took Theo a moment to realize what Enzo had said before his face turned completely red in shame and embarrassment.

"I told her I was in love with her?" Theo groaned loudly. That was not how he pictured confessing to you. Well, he never pictured confessing his feelings to you because he was scared and had no intentions of doing it.

"It's a good thing, don't you think? I mean, she finally knows." Blaise said, "Although she might need some convincing because she thinks you only said it because you were drunk and probably didn't mean it."

Theo hopped out of his bed, finding the nearest t-shirt before slipping on his shoes. He had already confessed how he felt and if it's already out there, there's no point in hiding it.

Theo spirited to your dorm, not muttering a good morning to anyone as he pushed past them. Finally, he got to your dorm and banged on it until he heard your feet shuffling.

"Teddy?" You asked groggily before focusing your eyes on the out-of-breath and frizzled Theo in front of you, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I meant it."

"What?"

There was silence between you two. He knew you knew what he was talking about, so it didn't take long for realization to take over your face.

"I meant it." Theo repeated himself, "Every word I said last night while I was sloppy drunk was true."

"I have been trying to work up the courage to say something about it for the last year or so. Granted, I didn't think it would be while I was drunk."

"How long?" You tilted your head to the side, with a hint of amusement gracing your face.

Theo's face flushed pink, as he knew you were teasing him, as well as being genuinely curious. "Since first year. When I saw you on the train to school."

"You didn't even speak to me until third year."

"I was nervous." Theo let out a breath. "I watched you, though."

You held back a laugh as Theo immediately turned even more red. "That was creepy. I didn't mean it like that! I just— we've shared a lot of classes and— I'm going to shut up."

You stood on your tippy toes, kissing Theo's flushed cheeks. "I've had a crush on you since second year."

"Really?"

You nodded, smiling. "So what now?"

"Um, will you go on a date with me? Maybe next weekend after the quidditch game?" Theo asked, feeling more nervous than ever.

"I would love to, " you smiled. And I won't miss this game, I promise."

"I'm holding you to that." Theo smiled back.

You gave Theo another kiss on the cheek. "It's still early. I'll see you later, okay?"

Theo nodded, and you smiled, closing your door. Theo stayed there for a few more seconds until he realized he probably looked crazy for just smiling at your door.

Who knew getting drunk had some perks?

[mapiforpresident]

Its Always Been You

alexia x reader

~~~

The stadium lights cast a soft glow over the pitch as you and Alexia jogged toward the center circle. Training had ended hours ago, but the two of you lingered, just like you had so many times before. The empty stands echoed with the faint sounds of your laughter as you passed the ball back and forth, the simplicity of it grounding you in a way few things could.

It had been this way for as long as you could remember. You and Alexia, side by side, growing up in the small fields of Mollet del Vallès, dreaming of someday making it big. You’d shared everything—trophies, heartbreaks, and countless late-night talks under the stars about life and love. But it wasn’t until this past year that you truly understood how much she meant to you.

"Still got it," Alexia teased, nudging the ball toward you with a grin.

"Always," you replied, stopping it effortlessly under your foot. "But you’re slowing down, old lady."

Alexia laughed, rolling her eyes. "I’m six months older than you. Don’t push your luck."

You smirked, but the familiar ease between you made your chest ache. You weren’t sure when it started—this shift in your feelings for her—but now it was undeniable. The way her laugh lit up your world. The way her eyes held yours a second too long. The way being around her felt like coming home.

“Remember when we were kids and used to stay out here until it was too dark to see the ball?” she asked, a wistful smile tugging at her lips.

You nodded. “Your mom would come yelling, telling us to get inside before we caught a cold.”

“She always thought you were the bad influence.”

“Me? You’re the one who insisted on practicing corners for hours,” you shot back.

Alexia shrugged, her smile turning softer. “Maybe. But look where we are now.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, everything stilled. Time, space, the years you’d spent as teammates, friends—everything came rushing back. You thought about all the people you’d dated, all the moments you’d tried to fill the void that only she could seem to occupy. It had taken you thirty years to realize it, but Alexia had been right there all along.

The silence stretched too long, so you nudged the ball toward her and said, “How about a little one-on-one? Let’s see if you’ve still got it.”

Alexia grinned, accepting the challenge. You both fell into the rhythm of the drill, laughter mixing with the sound of your feet pounding the turf. She was quick, as always, and for a second, you forgot about the feelings bubbling beneath the surface. You were just two players, pushing each other like you’d done your whole lives.

Then you lunged to steal the ball, and your foot caught hers. Alexia stumbled, and before you could stop your momentum, you fell on top of her.

“Lex! Are you okay?” you asked, heart pounding as you scrambled to brace yourself, your hands on either side of her head.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, laughing breathlessly. Her hands instinctively landed on your waist to steady you.

You looked down, your faces only inches apart, and froze. Her eyes met yours, wide and glinting under the lights. Time seemed to stand still. You could feel the rise and fall of her chest beneath you, her warmth radiating against you in the cool night air.

“Y/N…” she said softly, her voice almost trembling.

Before you even registered what you were doing, you leaned in. Your lips brushed hers, tentative at first, as if you were testing the waters. But the moment her mouth moved against yours, the hesitation melted away. You kissed her like she was the only thing tethering you to the earth, pouring years of unspoken emotions into that single moment.

When you finally pulled back, your heart was racing, and so was hers. Her cheeks were flushed, her gaze searching yours for something—reassurance, maybe, or an explanation.

“I—” you started, but Alexia’s hand moved to your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just… was that real? Because I’ve been dreaming about it for a while.”

Your lips parted in surprise. “You have?”

Alexia nodded, her hand still resting on your face. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. I just didn’t think you felt the same way.”

A shaky laugh escaped you, more disbelief than humor. “Are you kidding? Lex, you’ve been my whole world. I just— I didn’t realize it until recently.”

She smiled then, a slow, breathtaking smile that made your chest ache in the best way. “I guess we’ve been wasting a lot of time, huh?”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “But we’ve got forever now.”

She nodded, her forehead pressing against yours as she whispered, “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Promise you’ll hold me close,” she murmured. “Don’t let me go.”

You smiled, leaning into her touch. “I promise.”

The two of you stayed there for what felt like hours, tangled together in the center circle under the Barcelona sky. For the first time in your life, everything felt exactly as it should.

~~~

requests are open especially for:

Patri x reader x Pina

Alexia x reader

Mapi x Ingrid x reader

Lena Oberdorf

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.77)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Tae and Hobi help Yoongi during your first wave of heat.

Tags: Yoongi x Tae x Hobi x m/c, Dom! Yoongi, dom! tae, switch! hobi, Sub! m/c, Foursome, heat sex, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, fertility kink, control kink, mommy kink, talking her through it, dirty talk, exhibitionism and Voyeurism, teasing, flirting, biting, a tiny hint of mind break, a bit of pillow riding, dumbification kink, size kink, dirty talk, hole check, inspection kink, fluffy smut, no hurt just comfort, okay slight hurt because Hobi has anxiety, coming prematurely, cum play, sleepy sex, brief referenced Somnophilia,

W/c: 14.4k

A/n: thank you guys for being so tolerant of my brief absense, i didn't intend to take so long to update this but unfortunately sometimes living through historical events can be really tough to get through. i can't belive we made it to the 77th chapter! i always thought it would be nice to get to this point because you know- seven is bts's number <3 bily is way too long lol

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

The hunger of the heat finds no respite and no quiet, not even under darkness where lovers touch finds seemly eyes blind. Your descent into fever is fairly controlled given how long it's been since you've gone into heat. It's gentle even as your body surrenders itself completely to your instincts.

But there is nothing dirty to it. Nothing that leaves you feeling filthy and used. Going into heat with the pack leaves you feeling clean of your insecurities and anxiety. The last little bit that clings to you burned out by the heat like Bitter weeds burned out so that sweet tall growing love can take the place of the barren fields.

It’s easy to burn. Lights just like that.

The next three and a half days progress in a haze of lust and love and comfort. If asked, you’re not sure that you could articulate just what it’s like- the thrall of heat. The fever that burns through you, simmers your bones to dry kindling and hungry wind. The fire that craves not for food or water or air, just their touch. Just them.

I would love to say that your, Jungkook and Jin’s heat goes well- but in all reality it doesn’t. In reality- it’s a bit of a shit show.

One omega in heat is generally chaotic, but 3 is a horny hurricane of slick, cum, and tears. Your packmates are bound to get exhausted at one point and fail to fulfill your needs through the own simple fragility of their bodies. Your alphas aren’t indestructible or immune from exhaustion, as much they like to pretend otherwise.

Normally Jin and Jungkook are a bit of a handful. On account of being a little older, Jin is sweet but a little demanding.

Willing to scruff the alphas just to sit on their knots and all but bully Namjoon into letting him hog his (Something that Namjoon only sometimes allows.) Possessive and protective of them. Often sleeping with one hand pressed to Namjoon’s stomach, his throat, or when the heat fever spikes particularly high- wrapped around his knot. Protecting it, keeping it safe. To make sure no one steals it.

Jin gets incurably sleepy during his heats, Awake one moment and fast asleep the next. Easily worn out. Jin’s pout is never far from his plush lips, eyes always about to narrow when someone denies him his requests (usually for his own good).

Jin has asked for…strange things in heat before. For the alpha’s to breed each other, knock each other up. For them to knot his jaw if they won't knot his hole (often already occupied). Stuff like that.  

But he’s softer sometimes. More maternal. Checking their bodies obsessively for wounds, keeping them in the nest no matter if they need to eat or pee or go let Noodle out the back. Licking their scent glands raw to soothe until the heat fever burns so bright that he can’t resist any longer.  

By comparison, Jungkook is a big bunny rabbit.

Insatiable and energized with every wave of heat, Jungkook turns twitchy and needy in the heat fever. Just as happy to bounce on a knot as he is to take a pounding. Jungkook requires stamina, Jungkook requires energy. Often laconic or non-verbal. Jungkook does not like it soft, likes hair pulling and biting and his knees scraping against the nest. Pulled from one knot to the next.

The pack is no stranger to waking up to Jungkook astride them, powerful thighs straining to lift himself up and down in the omega’s half-asleep state, sleep fucking his way to an orgasm. Their pj's pulled low or ripped if he's eager enough. Cute little gasps echo off the tall ceilings as he takes his pleasure at a dreamy pace. One of the alpha’s staring up at him sleepy, stretched out, happy to have a bit of a break from moving.

Jin honestly doesn’t know where all the energy comes from.

Sometimes the pack tie him up and fill his holes with some silicone just to get a break. With barely 10 minutes between his heat spikes at his worst. He’s willing to take anything- a spank to his cock, a knot meanly fucked in and out of his hole all loose when he’s too far gone. Anything and everything until the spikes get less searing and the fire ebbs from flames to embers.

Edging and overstimulation are the pack’s best friends when it comes to Jungkook’s heats. That’s what Jungkook needs; to whine and whimper and flinch at every touch until it’s worn out of him. Until pleasure becomes pain and then goes back again. Flip-flopping until Jungkook can’t tell if it hurts too much to keep going or if it feels too good to stop.

It’s a good thing he’s equally soothed with a plastic knot as a real one, that he’s happy so long as he’s filled and plugged up so that no cum escapes. Precious and warm and his alpha’s gift. Evidence of their claim and devotion.

Evidence too of what bonds the omega’s together.

Nestmates do this, they take their breeding together in their nest during a heat. That’s what’s good and right. What Jungkook’s instincts crave. There is safety in numbers. The more pups the better.

(never mind the fact that out of heat, jungkook plans to be pupfree forever thank you very much).

But everyone knows not to take the things said during a heat seriously. that all that talk of breeding and pups is just that- talk. what matters is the devotion and the sentiment. Yes I am planning on keeping you forever. No you don't have to worry if I'll love you forever, let me claim you, let me show you in a way that matters.

It’s cute even if it is a little gross, how possessive omegas can get of alpha cum during heats. Their bellies going swollen and messy with it. A little plug does wonders to soothe any of Jungkook’s discomfort. A spank to his hole before one is shoved in even more so. The cherry on top.

The pack has learned how to meet his needs well, even at the expense of their own. That’s one thing that separates your alpha’s from the others, they don’t think about their own pleasure at all, they don’t think about their own needs- only yours.

I want to share my side of the nest with you, I want to talk you through it- the pain and the pleasure. I want you to feel love in every kiss, every bite.

The pack has wondered many times over the last year where you fit on the spectrum from bratty to obedient, from lethargic to energized.

Would you pout and whine like Jk? Bouncing on their knots for a bit of reprieve? Or would you be like Jin- bratty and needy in all the best ways? A princess and the pee, the omega and the knot. It’s all very fairytale.

But compared to Jin and Jungkook, you’re a bit of an angel.

They thought after so long your heat would hit hard, that your body would make up for time lost and leave it long and drawn out and brutal. That your lack of heat for so many years would reward you with spikes that never end and pleasure that went too far. That it would be rough.

Yoongi would never want to abandon the others, but even he has to admit that you need to be his priority sometimes. You’re more delicate than the others. That is a fact that he's never been able to ignore.

But he need not worry. If anything, your heat just makes you more gentle, soft, and round at the edges where your anxiety and fear can sometimes turn you a bit prickly.

Something about the heat just wears all of your energy out of you, makes you sleepy and soft, hurtling down through Omegaspace so far that you can’t really feel anything if it’s not good, brain a mess of good pup, good alphas breed good puppies, knot good puppies too, pup pup pups.

You are completely pliant and suggestible. Tears forever hovering on the edge of your waterline summoned by the slightest edge of disapproval. Good, you just want to be good. To part your legs and let them have the sweetness between them. You don’t need to be needy; you hardly even need to ask before someone is there. Someone is always always there.

The need builds to a fever's pitch, a fire burning through you. You’ve never felt so touch-starved before. Your skin dimpling with gooseflesh the second you feel even the slightest warmth, the slighted brush of possible body heat. There is something frantic in you, the hot flush crawling under your skin that stills only when they touch you.

Is this what overstimulation feels like to Jimin? Is this what he feels like when he holds Tae? does he feel the same sense of lingering relief? You watch the ceiling spin as Yoongi heaves you up. Everything is in slow motion. Putting it together second by second. Everything slow and drippy like syrup.  

The thing about omega's in heat is that they're a little bit dumb.

Like, there's no way that you could have ever conceivably run away from Yoongi and Tae and Hobi, no way that you could have escaped given your small size and their height. your run is doomed from the start.

The heat hormones are a little intense, a little hard to thing through.

You can't get over how good the pack’s hands feel, how calloused and intentional, bird bones and painted nails. Slightly rough and always firm. Calloused between the thumb and forefinger from pencils or firearms.

They’re always so gentle. So gentle that you feel every touch as not hunger but love instead. Maybe that’s what heats are? The need for love and pack sated by your bodies, that would find no satisfaction in it otherwise. There is no lust without love for any of you. You wouldn’t have gone into heat without them and their tender love and care. The love has always been there and this is no different.

You don’t have to question if they need you and want you the same way that you do. The scent of arousal is heady on the air, not just from the omega’s- but from them too. You can scent it; how they’re feeling. Their hunger.

It’s as if they've just come from in from out of the cold. It conjures up images of warm fires inside honeyed houses, of someone washing your face and you trust them not to get soap in your eyes, of waking up in the nest with your eyes still closed, the warmth all around you. Someone buttoning up your coat. Something warm and sweet to eat in your hands, sugar on the edge of your tongue, crystals of sweetness glittering and dusting deserts like starlight.

Only you are that sweet thing, you are that warmth. Your alpha's are the ones that have come in from the cold. 

There’s this mischievous victorious edge to Jimin’s scent, the vanilla sweeter and smokier than usual. The concerned edge to Hobi's- the caramel all warm and melty but with a sharp hint- like his anxiety has turned syrupy by proximity to the omega’s in heat. The calm edge to Tae's; roses in the morning, cinnamon sugar sweetness for breakfast even if it will spoil you for later.

But Namjoon- you hiccup when you breathe it in too deep. A shudder runs down your spine.

Namjoon smells so much richer than usual. Mouthwatering and potent. Dangerous and musky. Namjoon smells like a threat and a promise. Like a storm coming that you cannot evade. Namjoon smells like an ache. Your lungs flutter around it, your breath going heavy, and your eyes roll back briefly.

You feel drunk on it, almost tipsy from it. So good that just catching it in the air makes you slick up, and it turns the tops of your thighs all glossy underneath the big shirt you wear, the big shirt that gets pulled this way and that when Yoongi and Hobi and Tae pick you up and drag you from the hallway into the nest room.

You squirm, trying to get to him at the end of the hall as they move you. Their single-minded focus is getting you somewhere safe and comfortable even as the fever climbs and climbs. Your skin turning hot beneath their touch so quickly that they share nervous glances.

One moment your skin is sweet warm to the touch, the next your pulse is racing and you’re burning up. Cheeks pink, temples damp. Your pupils are so dilated it turns your eyes dark and glassy, so little of their usual color visible.

You’d be worried and teary at Hobi's scent but it’s just so fun.

You’re having a hard time holding onto your worry. Being restrained by them feels like playing this way. His hands go hard around your wrists as you push and giggle. His thin bones pressed to your fragile ones. Grinning up at them a little feral, a little heat addled.

You try to push and roll away futilely, unable to put any real force behind it as Tae grabs your ankles and Yoongi takes you around your middle. You catch sight of his grin as you squirm. And his hands go harder around your waist. Pausing to tickle at your ribs before they toss you- a little unceremoniously- into the center of the nest.

Your body is bare from their touch for about two seconds but you still don't like it. No sooner has a whine started to build in your throat. Nuckles brushing the nest, belly up, staring up at them dazed. Then your alphas and mate descend on you. Depressing the nest with their knees and feet, rushing and hurrying to cover you.

The whole house is full of the sound of snarls, wet slaps, and the burning haze of arousal. The hormones drip to a slow build. Setting everyone on edge. Even Yoongi breathes through his teeth. You try to kick at Tae's thigh just for fun but pull back once Yoongi’s fingers scrape your ankle in warning.

Tae doesn’t seem to like your squirming, taking your wrists in both of her hands and pressing them into the nest until you feel it in the bones of your wrists. With firmness comes clarity.

Holy fuck. Tae's so hot.

Her hair spills over her face and her eyes are dark.  The hem of her dress pulls low, and you try to lean up to nuzzle into it, lips curled into a snarl, a laugh. You could bite her. You want to bite her. You try too- but it’s hard to bite her when all you want to do is laugh.

Yoongi's fingers continue to tickle against your ribs, laughing and giggling through your very first spike of heat, ticklish. Squirming, held down until your breath goes ragged and you sag back against the nest, your surrender is just as sweet as the rest of you. You're so dizzy you're unable to fight against them. The heat zoomies worn out of you.

You laugh until you hiss. Curling to the side just a little as you double over in pain. A wave racks through you. Burning and stinging from your stomach outwards.

Yoongi stills, one hand on your knee, eyes wide. Tae lets your wrists go so you can clutch at your stomach. Holding your face through it. Hobi's hand is hard on your shoulder, knuckles white, expression stricken but unsure.

"Oh my little honey, don't worry, we'll make it better, shh just-" She's a little more panicky than the rest of them are. Her hand goes to Yoongi’s hip, his waistline, all but tugging at his shorts as if to say ‘do something.'

Yoongi holds your stomach too. Alarmed by your trembling. "Are you- do you need-“a knot, hovers on the edge of his tongue.

But you just blink. “Yoongi- it's too much- it burns- Sore- so sore here.” You touch your stomach gently, but it's so sensitive it still makes you hiss, eyes watering. Yoongi's hands slowly press to yours, flat, long fingers covering yours.

It's gone as quick as it comes, the wave ebbing after a stiff peak. And after a moment with more of Tae's shushing. You relax, stretching back out in the nest. Breathing heavily until you aren't. Until the cramping and the aching need want need to be filled in your head quiets.

Yoongi's fingers swirl on your stomach, gently. It's sensitive, but it actually does make you feel better. “You ran, do you want us to wait for Namjoon or-" You’re already shaking your head no when Yoongi cuts off. Letting your legs flop open so that he can shuffle forward closer. Nudging at the back of his hips with your heels.

You don't wonder why Yoongi mentions Namjoon. He's the pack alpha, and the right to breed you first in heat is his as dictated by old laws and rules. It’s stupid, but it’s instinctual. If you weren't mated, Yoongi might be tempted to ask Namjoon for permission.

Yoongi huffs at the mere idea of it.

But Namjoon isn't like that. He cares about your wants first. His own ego is very far down on his list of priorities and probably ranks just after Noodle's well-being in terms of Namjoon's pack alpha running task list.

Dominance is its own kind of submission.

And, judging by Jin's snarling from the other room- he'll be preoccupied for at least the next hour. You don't know if you can wait that long. A whine drips out of you, a sound small and weak. The fire starts to tickle in your tummy, insistent.

Hobi shuffles closer to you. Bare-chested, his red shorts looking tight. Looking unsure. "You did run, do you not want-" us, does not come out.

You shift, futile in your efforts to try and get comfortable, it's impossible with the weight of your instincts pinning you down, the pervasive ache that's sort of everywhere.

“Nah, just ran cuz it’s fun. Not cuz I didn’t want you to fuck me.”

Yoongi huffs and Hobi's grin cracks. His anxiety dissipates, fond with it. Yoongi's fingers itch up your thighs, parting them just a little so that he can shuffle forward closer to you. Until you can feel the heat from his tummy against yours.

You can feel so much. Your whole body one big nerve ending. You can feel the slight fluff and softness of the peach fuzz on his tummy dragging against yours as he gets closer. The feel of his slender but strong fingers circling your ankles. All of it.

You like this, you always like it when Yoongi's close.

“Glad we cleared that up, it’s not like I can’t literally see you slicking up but-“ you laugh and try and swat at him. He drops one of your ankles to catch your hand and tangles it with his for good measure.

A small smile hovers on the edge of his lips. He searches your face, smiling at what he sees your dopey smile and endeared indignation. The heat might be new, but this is so familiar his heart aches with it.

“If you’re gonna tease me while I’m in heat can you at least make it good?” Your breath goes heavy. Warm and sweet, fluffing over him. Everything; the sweetness to your scent, the ruddiness of your knees, the messy fluff of your hair over the pastel pillow, and the relaxed sprawl of your body is a siren song for Yoongi.

Above you Tae and Hobi stay quiet. Just watching. Tae drags a lock of your hair away from your face. Patient while you and Yoongi flirt.

“I thought you liked my teasing.”

Your tone sounds petulant even to you, “I do just not-”

Yoongi presses your knees apart, up towards your chest abruptly cutting off your words as you let out a broken moan. He puts a bit more force behind it than usual, putting you on display, spread. The hem of your shirt hides nothing as you feel yourself clench and his gaze flickers down.

“There you are, now I can see that you like it.” Your entrance looks swollen and pink but inviting. Winking at him. Tae perks up, looking not at you but down.  

“Fuck don’t-“ you strain. Palming at his hands, inarticulate.  

“What? Don’t you want them to see how messy you are? How messy you get for us. You make it so cute when you slick up without meaning to, so flustered.” The dirty talk makes your bones crack like kindling, makes you gush fresh.

The smile on his face widens just a bit, and you hiccup through the shudder that rocks through you. Your body burns, your stomach churns, and your skin simmers where he touches. Stoking your craving for more more more.

A breeding press. That's what Yoongi's just put you into. Knees to your chest, your sensitive heat slit ripe and wet between your thighs, ready for the taking. A breeding press in front of two alphas, in front of Tae and Hobi, watching with wide dark eyes. Your mate presents you for breeding. An invitation.

“Hold her.” Yoongi’s command is not snapped or growled out but Hobi and Tae follow suit regardless. Hobi fumbles, grabbing one wrist and Tae grabs the other.

Ready. Settled. It’s a bit of a strange show of dominance. But inside, Yoongi isn’t surprised that you needed a firm hand. To be held down and puppeted and propped. To know that they’re in control before you let your alpha's breed you.

He says your alphas- but he's the only one you're looking at. The only one you're whining for.

It’s hard to articulate your hands or your mind, tongue wrapped around a sound that can only be an endless whimper. Tae leans low when you try to squirm again. Her teeth nip at your ear, a shock to your system that makes you leak a fresh gush of slick half onto Yoongi's lap.

You have to be spilling and dripping by now. You try and press your legs back together and hide but Yoongi keeps you spread. His thumb skims the apex of your hips, the dewy fold between your thigh and pussy. Teasing.

“No pup, settle.”

You obey, unable not to. Sprawled there with them looming over you. Tae's fingers hover around your throat, manicured fingers rubbing soft against your scent gland, sensitive and tender. Achy. So achy you tilt your neck and show her your throat. Dizzy. The only thing solid is Yoongi’s hands and your instincts that tell you to try and get them closer.

Your instincts know what you need.

All of you sort of hurts. A bone-deep ache that has pinned you here as well as their touch. The ache that turns you free for them to poke and prod and love at. Each moment of their absence a physical wound, each kiss and brush of skin- a band-aid.

Belly down, you need to get belly down and show them. Need to show your alpha’s and your mate that you can be good- that you’re worth breeding. That you can take all of the love that they have to give and more.

You just can’t move your body; can’t make it cooperate- you feel so heavy and tired all of a sudden. Falling slack. All the fight going out of you.

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard now was it?” Yoongi’s voice is a deep purr.  

You are missing things, the seconds slipping away as you start to sweat and whimper. You don’t see Hobi's stricken expression as tears start to gather at your waterline or Tae's eyes, dark but sympathetic. You don’t see or feel the way that Hobi trembles as he holds your wrists perfunctory now that you've gone limp.

But still, he holds you. the touch goes tender where moment's ago it had been firm. Hobi doesn't notice, Hobi doesn't see.

But Yoongi does. Yoongi sees all of it, holding your knees still, fingers rounding out over the bone, rubbing up and down your thighs, an inch higher with every pass, until the cool pads of his fingers are brushing your shirt. Shushing your whines as he shuffles between your legs and the meat of his thighs meets your ass. Shirt fluffing up to your belly button from this position.

If the other alphas smell good, then Yoongi is the heat in the back of your throat and the compass by which you fly home. Your scent spikes watching him settle on his knees between your legs, your toes pressed to his stomach still in your socks. White, to the upper ankle.

Yoongi takes them off, slow, fingers sliding over your calf. squeezing firmly, releasing the tension. Setting them to the side the way he'd fold laundry, casual, like he's not making you hiccup.

You can feel yourself clench when you register that there is hardness at the front of his shorts. Yoongi smells good, drippy, and chocolatey. You want him all over you. The fabric at the front of his boxers brushes your heat slit, rougher than the pads of his fingers, and you feel like you might just pass out.

Sensitive- your body is oversensitive. You can feel everything, the tickle of Hobi's breath as it hitches when he sees the mess between your legs. Sweet nectar to the hummingbird thunder of his heart in his fingers. Tae's soft growl rippling from her chest. Small chest vibrating with it.

Yoongi lets your hips relax and slides his hands up your hips to your waist instead. Bypassing where you’re sore for him entirely to go under your shirt, the rough pads of his fingers skimming up your midline as he says, “let’s get rid of this sweet honey.”

There are pet names everywhere. Pup, honey, little treat, sweetheart. On the edge of every line as he coaxes you to sit up. Sweetening every sentence. They’re unable not to add them, each nickname more loving than your own name.

How could you deny them the pleasure of it on their tongue. You like the way they say it, pup. Like you’re small and sweet and worth caring for. Worth claiming in a way that’s permanent like this. You trust them enough to see you like this, at your most vulnerable.

A shout comes from the hall. A loud repetitive smacking sound the backtrack to Yoongi’s deep satisfied hum. You toss your head to the side, looking towards the door with a loud whine. Hopeful to summon the other omegas here. Here where nothing is scary, and everything drips as slow as syrup on a cold day.

But you hear only hisses and snarls in response. A dark sound that becomes Jungkook’s giggle and something hitting the wall with a loud thud. A knee- or maybe someone’s hand.

The other omegas are not as easy to catch and soothe as you are. It will take one knotting each before the alpha’s manage to settle them and cajole them back into the nest. You go right away, no need to be disobedient.

Jin hisses loudly and goosebumps erupt on your arms. It has nothing to do with feeling cold on the contrary; the heat fever tears through you. You didn’t realize you were overheating until Yoongi disrobed you. Your mate is so good. So good at anticipating your needs. Guiding your shirt off of you with a gentle hum until Hobi can grab it and get it over your shoulders. All of this is so gentle.  

Yoongi’s hands stay on your back, making you lie back down slowly, supporting you so that your abdominal muscles need not strain. Hobi tosses the shirt into some forgotten corner where it’s doomed to be used as a cum rag in the foreseeable future. You blink up at them, two of your alphas and your mate.

Why won’t they- why can’t you-

Yoongi’s hand presses flat against your stomach, quieting your sweet whines. You are entirely unselfconscious of your body like this, unaware of the marks or rolls on your body or the soft plush to your stomach. There is only Yoongi’s eyes on you, maintaining contact as he sets you back where he wants you. One hand on your shoulder, the other on your waistline.

Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes darting from place to place, feeling his hardness grow. You look so flushed and healthy, your body glowing from within from the fever. You look- you look-.

Yoongi cringes internally but you do look ready. Fertile and sweet and glowing from fever. Ready for pups, ready to be knocked up, ready for breeding. If Yoongi was an alpha, god help them all. He can’t imagine what it feels like to the others. To have you flushed and cute and willing like this.

What wouldn't he do? What wouldn't he give for your happiness?

What would Tae write about this moment? Yoongi imagines himself as a fly on the wall, a poem inside her head.

I think of you in all the softest colors, collect moments for you in the palm of my hand, give you love until its nicknacks and keepsakes, slip through my fingers, too many to count, your pocket and bowl overflowing. You are that, my overflow and my undertow, I dreamed of you, I dreamed for you, and yet, you are still here. My bedtime story, my good night kiss. the moon to my firefly, the sugar on cream.

For a second, he imagines it. You pregnant. You bred.

Your stomach round and taught. He imagines watching you get bigger and bigger until you're waddling around. Your chest sweetening with milk, already supple now nipples pebbling in the cold. To imagine them bigger is honestly- Yoongi cannot think about it without throbbing and twitching. The hardness a heavenly jut against your cunt. Just as weepy and needy as the rest of you.

You look so healthy too. A lump comes to Yoongi’s throat at the realization. You’d have it so easy carrying the pack’s pup like this. But even then- Yoongi wouldn’t let up, on the contrary. He'd probably rival Jin and namjoon in their protective instincts and their doting. He’d cave to all your cravings and leave in snow or rain and sleet to get you whatever your pregnancy cravings might ask.

He never thought he had a thing for it; pregnancy and breeding is more an alpha's wheelhouse but you…All round and full of them. It wouldn't even matter who got to you first, whose seed would take all of that is your choice.

But Yoongi imagines your scent going milky, imagines how sleepy and brody you'd get. He wonders if you'd take to carting one of your stuffed animals around. Would your instincts prepare you to cling to everything small and cute and soft?

He already treats you like fine china- but pupped? Your mate wouldn't let you lift a fucking finger. He decides right then, he won’t let you do a lick of the work in this heat. All of your pleasure should be by their hands shouldn’t it? That’s just an extension of love, right? Dictating what pleasure you get and if it’s enough- should be up to them- you clearly aren’t thinking straight enough to decide if you need a cock in your cunt. That should be left up to him.

(Clearly, the heat is getting to Yoongi)

Contraceptive, you took the contraceptive, didn't you? Yoongi should remember that. He shouldn't be so giddy for something that is impossible now and for all real likelihood may never happen or is years and years away. This is only your first heat. His instincts should honestly chill, he shouldn't be reacting the way the alpha's do.

Even if there is truly no harm in pretending.

Why does his chest feel so tight? Why do his muscles feel poised to fight? His pulse beats a little quicker, a little harder, as if in response to you.

Yoongi's breath goes deep and ragged. “My little honey.” He says, voice husky, and you squirm. A little happy. A little overwhelmed by all the attention.

He picks you by your hips, turning you over, guiding you to present the way that all good little omega’s do. Tummy down and ass up. You blink dazed as they move you, losing yourself a little more with each moment.  Tae puts a pillow under your tummy and the crinkle of the waterproof pillowcase distantly assures you that whatever mess you make will not ruin the fun.

The room spins with the smell of them, the pet of Tae's fingers down your back as Yoongi spreads your knees so he can kneel between them. Stroking gently over your spine, pressing it to curve and arch for them.

“So good for us, so good presenting yourself, so so cute.” Her voice is quiet and honey-sweet. And you don’t know why but you suddenly feel like crying.

You want to cry in relief, you might actually cry over the praise. You are pinned there- beneath Yoongi’s touch and by his eyes as he looks down at you. He pauses to turn your cheek to the side so that he can better watch your face. Tae shuffles forward, picking your chest up and lying your half in her lap, your cheek resting just below the hem of her dress against her plush thighs. A predicament you've found yourself in many times.

You peer up at her, teary-eyed. Fists tangling with her dress, clinging to it, to her. You need something to steady you. Something to hold onto when your brain feels like a feather fluttering in the wind. Dazed and fuzzy. Omegaspace has never felt so intense before.

your lower lip juts out, glossy and pink. “Mommy it hurts.”

She bends low, pressing a kiss to your brow. The brush of her skin against yours makes you dizzy. It feels so good to be touched and loved like this. To feel someone touching your body so gently like it’s precious.

Who knows, maybe to them, you really are.

She nuzzles forward, her forehead finding yours. Her nose going that way then the other. Pecking your lips once, twice, and then again.

“I know pup, we’ll make it better.”

You whimper, and Tae sets your cheek against her thigh so that you can rest there through whatever happens next, one hand wraps around her ankle, and your other reaches back blindly to tangle with Hobi's.

Neither of them stops Yoongi. Neither of them tries to get in the way- it’s Yoongi’s right- as your mate- to do with you what he wishes during your heat. To fuck you this way and that. To take precedent and priority.

If only yoongi understood that.

Yoongi leans over you, letting his lap make contact with your ass, grinding forward almost immediately as you jerk back. You’ve never heard Yoongi sound so dark, his voice so rough.

“It’s so tough, isn’t it? Feeling so many instincts all at once huh? Being so small and scared right? You just wanted us to chase you, make sure we could catch you- make sure we’re worthy.”

He digs his fingers into your hip bones pressing you down into your knees. Your cheek turned to the side, nuzzling into the fabric of Tae's dress. You blink up at Tae dazed, eyes feasting on the way that her dress- flimsy and partially see-through- slips down her shoulders- pulled askew in your chasing.

From the hall- you hear the sound of groans and moans. You don’t know why your other nestmates don’t just come willingly. It feels so good, so soft and safe underneath you.

You didn’t think you could feel so safe.  

Gone is the instinct to run, gone is the instinct to hide and cower- now all you can do is whine and part your legs, the ache there so deep there you feel it in your teeth. But Yoongi grinds his half-hidden hardness where you’re needy and sensitive. The fabric of his boxers quickly darken with slick. He doesn’t go quick, he savors it.

The fact that Yoongi doesn’t have a knot doesn’t cross your mind. Not even once. He’s still the first one you want.

…not the only one you want of course, but him first.

Yoongi cannot actually read your thoughts, so he leans low, pressing kiss after kiss into your spine, dragging his lips down to the dimples of your hips before he rises back on his knees. A look so soft in his eyes- Hobi and Tae feel a bit like they’re intruding on something.

“Whose knot should you take first honey, Taetae’s, or Hobi's? Or do you want me to decide for you? Tell me who you want, honey- anything.” He promises, voice husky. And Tae can tell he means it. Anything that you’d want right now, he’d give.

You whimper, shaking your head against Tae’s hand, her touch, a finger-popping into your mouth to sate your need to suck. You can’t speak- couldn’t even if you wanted to. But that’s alright, you’ve got packmates to do that for you.

“I don’t think she wants either of us Hyung,” she says, hushed, gentle in her tone- nothing in it telling her how hurt she is or if she’s even hurt at all at not being chosen first. You don’t catch the way that Yoongi’s eyebrows raise, the way his cheeks heat.

For all of his dirty talk earlier, he is completely surprised that it’s him and not alpha and a knot that you ask for first.

Oh, how intimate it is to be needed like this.

You look up at him, shy but needy, you need him- oh how you need him- you couldn’t imagine feeling this way without him here. Couldn’t imagine it feeling so good without his touch. The press of his palm on the small of your back, the rub of his thumb against your rib. It’s so much. It's too much.

You tug one arm underneath you under your chest, the other hovering, holding Hobi's hand behind you blindly. Your fingers, his fingers tangled. You rest your cheek on Tae's thigh and look back as Yoongi shuffles forward. The elastic of his boxers pulled down his hips. The head of his cock pink and glossy with pre-cum.

There is some scuffling in the hall too, a high-pitched “please please please” that can’t be Jin. You’ve never heard him sound desperate like that. Hobi's hot breath dusts the back of your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed as one of Yoongi’s hands leaves your waist to guide his cock. Only to shoot open again. Gasping at the familiar prod.

The thickness is just right, his body heat and his heartbeat you can feel as he fills you more and more. The comfortable stretch that you’ve become so accustomed to. No pain now only pleasure that makes your body hum and tingle from your toes to the top of your head, hair standing on end.

Hair that Hobi pets over. Shushing your full body shivers and hiccups as Yoongi slides home gently. All the way in. Hips flush. Pushing out the rest of your lucidity as he slides in to the hilt.

From that moment on- your heat is a blur. A dizzying cocktail of pleasure, pain, and comfort. Descending down and down and down now that you’re safe. Now that your mate is here.

Yoongi slides all the way in without any resistance. You’re wetter and tighter than usual, so tight around him that he’s sure your clit twitches against the pillow with the strength of your clench. He takes a moment through your mewling to calm himself, certain that if he’s not careful, if moves even a little tiny bit, then he’s going to cum early and muck this all up.

The moment passes between one breath and the next. Yoongi’s hands tremble where they hold your waist. Thumbs rubbing circles on the small of your back, breathing heavily.

"Shh shh shhh little pup, there you go, just like that. So full huh? I know you're sensitive but that's what you needed, isn't it?"

He makes the mistake of looking up at Hobi, and then that’s almost all it takes. His lips are glossy, looking not at him but at the place where both of you connect. The wet hot gush of your cunt stretched around Yoongi’s thickness.

His eyes are so dark they reflect everything, the curve of your bodies, the paleness of Yoongi’s chest a bright speck on his eyes, as fleeting as any star. He licks his lips, barely resisting the temptation to rock forward into the pillow between his thighs.

Barely.

You gasp against Tae's thigh, but her eyes are dark and trained on the same spot. Her lower lip pinned between her teeth like a butterfly to a wall. Keeping a filthy-sounding growl at bay.

There is something about the narrowness of Yoongi’s waist in between your legs and the broadness of his shoulders that makes her feel a little bit crazy. Yoongi has always been beautiful in a way that is neither alpha nor omega. Strong in a way that is an attribute and not a chosen quality.

The gentleness in him is a choice as he pulls you back on his cock, one hand goes to your shoulder, and the other stays on your waist, pulling you back and forth on him. Mindful of everything. The hot squelch of you and the pleasure tugging firm in his gut is secondary to the gentle way he guides you. Gentle and slow but firm.

Yoongi's hand is on your shoulder. Your cheek on Tae’s inner thigh, Yoongi's knuckles brush the inside of Tae's thigh every time he forces you back on his cock. Every warm gasps brushes her skin and Yoongi’s knuckles.

She greatly enjoys this; watching and waiting for her turn. She might not mind waiting forever if it’s Yoongi doing the taking apart. Tae can put you back together later. They can go like that again and again and she’d never mind going second.

Tae picks your hair off your cheeks so that all of them can see your slack lips, your eyes half closed in bliss. Your breath comes out in little 'hng' sounds. Like a moan stuck in your throat.

Her mouth is dry, and you gasp against her thigh when Yoongi grinds deep and stays there. Testing the resistance of your body and marveling at how there isn’t any now. He can feel it deep inside; a place that’s usually impenetrable shifts open bit by bit as the heat settles in you. A little tightness just at the head of his cock that’s maddening.

Fuck, Namjoon will be able to reach there, Yoongi probably could with his fingers, if you hadn’t taken the contraceptive, Namjoon could have put his cock right there and-

It must be your hormones. It must be the mating mark. That must be why he’s so close to cumming so quick. Rocking inside, just to savor the feel of you.

There’s no one alive who's felt this, no one alive who knows what you taste or smell or feel like during your heat. Yoongi will savor this for a moment. Maybe forever.

If the others would only listen, would they let him linger for as long as he wants to? His end barrels past him, flush with the knowledge that it’s him, him making you pant and blush, him making you clench and drip and moan and-

Fucking hell- Yoongi’s almost going insane.

He cums like that, holding your hips flush to his for a handful of seconds, rocking through it, breathing heavily. But he doesn’t flag, doesn’t go soft, just keeps fucking you after a few seconds, cock twitching and throbbing hard.

Fuck. It's so wet and hot, he can feel his cum in you, feel the way it's kept warm and snug. His spend turns frothy around the base of his cock too quick as he sets about fucking you faster, endlessly craving more. The clench of your cunt is not quite enough to keep it from escaping without a knot.

It’s okay, you don’t need to worry about wasting it, Yoongi has more than enough. Yoongi usually doesn’t cum so much, but he’s so distracted by you that he doesn’t notice.

Tae and Hobi grin at him, nostrils flaring because they can scent Yoongi's cum on the air. They know. The feral curve of their teeth eggs Yoongi on. He's not pulling out and he's not stopping until your eyes roll back.

Your eyes go wide when you feel it, giggling softly and reaching down to touch your tummy. Nuzzling into Tae's thigh, as much as a response that they'll get. Your giggling cuts off with a broken hiccup as Yoongi starts up again.

Hobi's watching you, fringe in front of his eyes to the point where Yoongi can't read him. Doesn't have the mind to right now, wholly focused on you. 

But the tops of his cheeks are pink, and he can’t quite meet Yoongi’s eyes. On the other hand, Tae can’t look away from you, your hand gripping her thigh hard to hold yourself steady through the waves of pleasure and the brutal never ending breeding. Every time Yoongi juts forward, no matter how gentle. It feels like fire.

Out in the hallway someone snarls loud. You fall limp, clenching so hard that you all but force Yoongi out of you, he just laughs, deep and low, before guiding his cock back in. Not finished with you at all yet but not quite letting you cum.

Neither is the heat, licking at the back of your throat. He won't stop fucking you no matter how many times you almost cum, at least not until the fire ebbs. You hiccup, squirming.

"No pup, we're not done yet. Just a little more, just a little more and then you can cum, are you gonna make it pretty and squirt for me? I know mommy wants to see you all messy."

He’s jogged out of his reverie by the appearance of Tae's hands. Covering his, helping, pushing you back against his cock. Her eyes meeting his. You mewl blindly. Blinking away tears that Hobi pauses to wipe away.

Yoongi wishes she’d move so that he could duck down and kiss you. Is almost about to ask her to do just that so he can when she speaks.

“What does she feel like- what's it like?” Yoongi hisses, feeling his cock twitch, feeling you clamp down tighter in response to it. Aware that Tae can watch his stomach tremble on the exhale. Hobi looks away, a bit overwhelmed.

“She’s very-” Yoongi cuts himself off as you push back into him, intent on starting the fucking again. But the others soothe you. Stop your pushing, make you go slow. Thighs trembling, drawing out your pleasure. You mewl but it just gets shushed away by Tae. A mild scolding that just heats your blood further.

"Be good pup, I know you can wait and take your breeding like a good girl." She turns back to Yoongi, completely unfazed.

“Very very wet. She’s warming up. It's Hot.”

Hobi presses you down, hands on your shoulders, keeping you presented and at their mercy. There will be time for roughness and more roughhousing later. You keen at the harsh contact, the feeling of being pinned. Hoseok swallows so hard that the two of them can hear it, but Hobi's dominance is a fragile thing.

“Yeah, she is.” Hobi goes bright red, flushes, stutters. "I meant inside."

“I know what you meant.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. Hobi's cock jumps in his shorts partially at the embarrassment of his slip-up, and partially because when Tae leans to nuzzle she nips at his scent gland in reward.

Hobi likes this, being made to wait. Different than the way that Tae likes it. But if he stops to think about it he'll get insecure. So he lets the humiliation, the control, wrap around him like a blanket. These are the people he trusts to be vulnerable with. The people who decide when Hobi has a chance to knot or be knotted. Same as you.

How strange it is, to be equal to an omega in heat and a female omega no less. Hoseok is not used to this. Not the same way that he is with Jungkook and Jin and their heats.

It's good that the others are going first, to show Hobi that it's not scary. You peer up at him with unsure eyes. Like you're checking too. Hobi's anxiety is a low simmer. Barely there but not entirely gone. Threatening to flare should something trigger him.

You're not glaring at him, you're just looking. Eyeing him like you know he's anxious. Your hand twitches. And he moves to hold yours before he thinks better. You don't reach for his knot between his legs, already throbbing. You don't do anything but hold his hand, turning away from Tae's thigh briefly to nuzzle into your tangled fingers.

Tae's eyes are dark pools of honey. And her scent spikes, nice. You turn away from Hobi to resist the urge to bite his wrist. Pain and Hobi are not things that you want to put together. Pain and Hobi are things that your brain, even heat-addled, does not like to combine.

You press your face into Tae's thighs. Half under her skirt. Hiding there. Hiccuping, breathing heavy. Unaware of the dynamic emerging above you. She waits for another breath, watching Yoongi. The four of you go still.  

Below him, you start to hiccup. It's nice being filled, but you want Yoongi to move already. Your fist tangle in Tae's dress again. Eyes wide and staring blankly, And it’s like you can’t figure out where to grip, where to grab to keep yourself steady.

But all of this is very routine, if they keep you just there, on the edge. build you up and set you down gently, your eventual Orgasam will keep the next wave of heat at bay for a little longer and your body will have more time to recover. It's a balance, giving you what you want and what your body needs.

you mewl and cry below them, sniffling. you've never been denied before. you don't know why, with your tummy already hot and heavy with yoongi's cum, they're keeping you right on the edge.

Tae massages the back of your neck and you pant little mewling breaths against her thigh. it's not a scruff but it's close because a scruff might just make you cum.

You drag your teeth against her thigh when it gets too much, your cute little canines leave little red lines that vanish as soon as they’re there. Tae just coo’s down at you before flicking her eyes up at Yoongi. Waiting and expectant.

She cocks an eyebrow at him and inside of you, his cock twitches. “Were you going to move or….”

“Yeah- sorry,” Yoongi flushes at the momentary awkwardness, the same awkwardness that dissipates immediately as he starts fucking you again.

He’s thankful you’re so vocal. Drowning out the wet slaps and his own broken curses. You’re so wet- the slide is so easy. So good. Your little 'ah ah ah's are so melodic. Joining the chorus of Jungkook's yelps and Jin's snarls.

You’re being touched everywhere, Yoongi’s hands big on your hips, Hobi’s hand down your back, and Tae cradling your face telling you it’s going to be alright. Every touch stokes the fire to burn harder. You like being touched like this, casually while Yoongi has you. You’re close almost from it alone.

Between your legs you start to drip, first down the generous curve of Yoongi’s cock, then onto the nest below. Staining it with the evidence of your sweet surrender.

“There you go,” Hobi says, low and husky as you fall into a rhythm. Your cheek rests against Tae's thigh, panting openly, hiding a little under her skirt. Hobi's finger strokes over your cheek, and you turn away from the touch, not because you don't want it, but because it's embarrassing. Having them watch you so closely like this, at your most vulnerable.

“Awe, pups so shy huh?” Tae teases, and you nod, blinking away tears.

Tae says something far above you, something that sounds too suspiciously like a command, but it's not meant for you. Hobi's hands go to your face and turn you to where they can see you. His thumbs rub up your jaw, cupping your cheeks, and keep you from hiding away in Tae's skirt.

He doesn't say anything and he doesn't need to as your lower lip quivers. There is no one to hide from, no one here that wouldn't love all of you. There is no part of you, dark or pink or otherwise, that these three- Tae, Hobi, Yoongi- don't know yet and love anyway.

Above you sunlight hits Hobi’s hair, turning it red-brown golden. The light Falls on Tae's dress strap too, across Yoongi’s chest and the veins in his hands, throbbing with a heartbeat from here. And you are breathless breathless breath-

“Deeper want it-“

No sooner have you asked for it than is Yoongi adjusting his position. Barely pausing at his steady pace as he hooks an elbow under your knee, all but picking your hips up so he can fuck into you at a punishing pace. The weight of your body pushes him deeper. Hitting a new place inside of you that’s so sensitive you tremble. Popping through some hidden resistance.

Yoongi keeps it steady, not stopping when you gasp, when you drip below you, hitting his legs as you soak the nest below you. Christening the heat nest with the first wave. Your first orgasm that only builds, a first peak that promises another. You gush a little, squirt a little more, every time yoongi slides into you to the hilt.

From this angle you’re completely unable to push back against it. Even less in control and at the mercy of the pace Yoongi sets faster and faster. Carving out a new feeling in you with every thrust. A space in your tummy just for Yoongi, warm and tight and perfect. Pleasure but also hunger for more more and more.

Any other day the wet sounds of your pussy clenching hopelessly around his cock would make him shy- but now all Yoongi can do is give you more. Chasing his building pleasure. A second climax that is stronger than the first. Building you up to your relief as quickly and as gently as he can.

You can’t remember your last heat, the handful of them that you had with Geumjae, you think you were left alone for most of it. You know it wasn’t anything like this.

Hobi pauses and reaches to touch your stomach.

Your eyes shoot open, looking up at him and the half-hardness tenting in his pants. because of you. for you.

Yoongi and you are honest to God so pretty when you fuck. Hobi hasn’t seen this too much before. Sure- little hints of it here and then. both of you tumbling out of the nest room looking sleepy and sated, He's seen Yoongi's hands wander or your touch linger. But this is-

Yoongi is so gentle with you but also firm. Dominant in a way that takes Hobi's breath away and makes his head feel fuzzy. Forcing you back on his cock, punching little “ah ugh’s” from your throat. So gentle in the way that he takes you apart. unyeilding in the pleasure he demands from you.

And the dirty talk-

"Right there yeah? That's the spot that you like isn't it? cute little omega you're doing so well. So cute, don't worry, i'll give you everything you need. I know, it's so much right? It's not too much, i know you can take it, thats my girl- there just like that."

Hobi's going to go insane, Hobi's going to cum in his pants before he's even gotten inside of you. just from the sound of Yoongi's rough voice. husky from the effort. He's already wet, the front of his boxers turning dark from it. Knot already half popped just from watching and-

Tae pulls at your hair, making your neck arch so she can wipe a bit of drool from the corner of your mouth. Cooing, touching your tongue where it lolls out obscene and cute at the same time. Hobi strokes over your stomach, saying nothing, just watching.

He hopes you can’t feel the tremble in his hands or the rapid thunder of his heart or smell his arousal. His hardness, prominent enough that if there weren’t blankets, you’d be able to see. Your eyes are glassy and wide as Yoongi breeds you, Hobi physically sees the haze descend as you get closer and closer to Cumming. Cheeks and chest flushed and pretty. Your eyes flutter closed. Hobi's hands are still on your cheeks. Tae has the same idea.

Your lips open in a perfect little oh. Yoongi thrusts forward particularly hard, and the wet squelch is filthy enough that he almost looks away. Tae's voice is a deep purr.

“Don’t close your eyes honey, I wanna see.” Yoongi laughs at Tae, Teeth gritting.

“Fucking.” Yoongi pants, driving his hips faster. “Bratty” his pace falters, “Alpha.” Tae's pink lips stretch in a smile.

Tae pets through your hair. And it’s gentle but somehow more ruthless that all they do is watch. You’d blush, but your blood is already hot from the heat.

You sob and Yoongi’s face cracks into a grin. “That’s it, there you go for us, cum for me-”

It builds and builds until you’re right on the edge, you stumble over it when the second wave of Yoongi's cum turns your insides hot. That and the barest touch of Hobi's fingers against your clit that has you clenching wildly around him, clenching too hard, almost forcing his cock out if it weren’t for the way he puts his weight behind his next thrust with a broken groan.

Your ears fill with a ringing sound. High-pitched, mind blank. Staring up at Tae without really seeing her. Going just a tiny bit cross-eyed. Just for a second.

When you finally stop seeing stars. Tae is smiling down at you lazily. A satisfied smirk on her face.

Your slick drips down your midline, just a little. You usually get very very wet when the pack gives you proper attention, in heat- your usually slick production is amped up. If you could feel anything right now, you'd be embarrassed.

The world is a collection of sensations. The ringing in your ears. Yoongi's kiss against your mating mark. The sensitivity of your body against the nest; the fabric damp beneath your belly as they turn you onto your back to wipe up your stomach. The blankets replaced. Someone mentions something about getting towels for the next wave and where did Jinnie put them? In the closet or out in the hall?

They set you down gently. Yoongi stretches your leg out straight and makes sure it doesn’t cramp.

There is a drop of water on the end of your nose. You're crying.

Yoongi doesn't move from between your legs, he stays inside. Because an alpha wouldn't move after breeding an omega, wouldn't be able to take their knot out. Yoongi is accustomed enough to omega's in heat to know when to move and when not to. He'll rest here, in your warmth and wet and mess until you tell him to move.

But still, it’s not enough. You cry, cheeks wet, unsure why exactly. The hunger and rabid wanting animal in you is not quiet. The fever does not ease. It hardly even goes down.

Hobi sits up, nervous, about to go bother Namjoon, knotting or not. The hair on the back of Yoongi’s neck stands up. But Tae shushes both of them rubbing your tears away, bending low to kiss them until she moves you off of her lap.

You barely register Hobi's husky voice. “Did so well, so good ug-omega.”  Hobi's flush and his shyness escape your notice. But you do peer up at him, lips pressed to the meat of his thumb. Mumbling, sleepy and sniffly. 

“Good? Not scary? Not hurts?” You ask, your words a little scrambled from the heat.  

He leans low to kiss your brow. Lingering there for a second, leaving his lips there. Make eye contact with Yoongi over the top of your head. Looking sweaty and victorious and a little bit like he’s gloating as he shakes his long hair out of his eyes. Tae's hand splays on his stomach, bullying up behind him, saying something filthy into his ear, before she swirls her fingers through his tummy hair and then reaches lower.

“Not scary at all.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Your breath hitches, You feel something prod at your sensitive entrance. Something bullying its way in next to Yoongi. The stretch burns but it feels so good. It’s the itch you needed to scratch, the last thing your body was missing. It quiets the fire in you, the flames of wanting ebbing.

You don’t even register that it’s Tae's fingers, sneaking in next to Yoongi and holding you open a little, curling just a bit to simulate the stretch of a knot and press against the scent gland in your pussy, close to your special little spot. Has she had to do this before for Jungkook and Jin? Is this a normal predicament for Yoongi? What does it feel like to have Tae's fingers by his cock and you so warm and wet outside?

Yoongi's pants, pants as Tae…sort of holds his cock while it's in you. He gives a faint twitch and she laughs behind him, hardness pressing against the curve of his hip. Forgotten about it for now.

The extra stretch calms your instincts and the fever ebbs a little. Your sweat cools. Your heart rate slows. Eyelids heavy, starting to get sleepy.

“Thanks Tae.”

You hear the sound of kisses, slow and sloppy as you doze. Comforted by the stretch at your entrance and Yoongi’s cock. You collect moments like seashells. Hobi sprawling out, more relaxed than before. Hand combing through your hair gently. Careful not to snag.

Tae's knees accidentally pressing against your hips. Yoongi strokes up and down your stomach, your sides, everywhere. Your hands pulled to your chest. Unable to focus on anything other than how full and filled you feel. Bred and taken. Claimed by the mark on your throat and the warmth in your tummy. All full, finally full.

The stretch makes you feel a little better- makes the need not quite so frantic. It can wait for later, the need for the others tearing through you. You can take this moment of peace right now.

your mind drifts, the seconds and minutes drifting away.

Warmth comes and goes, There is someone holding a straw with a cup to your lips. Hobi is along your front, half sitting up. The glass is dewy with condensed water. His hands damp.

Was he just standing up? Did he go to the kitchen and leave the safety of the nest just to give you some water, that's so lovely and so sweet. Your instincts tell you that you should let Hobi pup you for that.

As a treat.  

You know you won't be awake for long, your thoughts are slippery to hold onto at best. Yoongi rests inside of you and doesn’t pull out. he Lets you cockwarm him and keeps you filled even though he’s going just a little soft. Tae pulls her fingers out once your fever goes down, ebbing until your body temperature returns to a stable baseline and the next wave no longer threatens to flare.

Hobi pokes the straw against your lip, and you suck blindly, obediently. Without opening your eyes. Non-verbal. They’re talking- you register dimly. You don't need to be concerned with what they say, you know they'll look after you regardless of if you're listening.

You rub your cheek against Tae's thighs. You love her thighs, they're so soft and warm. You hope you get to spend all of your heat like this, your head propped up in Tae's lap.

Well…maybe not all of your heat. You'd also like to sit in her lap too, preferably with her knot inside of you. But that can wait, she’s not going anywhere and you’ll make sure of it.

Your fever flares as your heat-addled thoughts run rampant, eyes closed and scent sweetening. It garners the attention of your pack, falling quiet above you.

“Do you think-” There is a hand on your face, your cheek, feeling you for fever. Tae's chipped fingernail polish flashes in the light.

“Not yet. We've got like, half an hour probably? Maybe a bit less?”

The slapping sounds in the hallway have finally quieted and the sound of your pack omega’s purring lulls you into a soft state. Your eyes flutter closed. Jinnie will be here soon, Jinnie is purring so you should purr too.

You fall back asleep, the rumbling in your chest a light lullaby. Above you, your packmates go calm and quiet.

"She smells so calm, it's so- it's so-" Tae rubs down Yoongi’s side, but Yoongi doesn’t look up. Looking down at you, eyes full of some unreadable emotion that is actually not unreadable only because they know Yoongi so well, his breath comes quicker, and he blinks quick.

Lowering his body, getting as close to you as possible. But he doesn’t relax, doesn’t blink so as to not miss a single moment looking down at you. Hand on either side of your body, depressing the nest. Your purring peters off as you actually fall asleep but- but-

Crouched over you, you don't even stir. Your chest rises up and down. Evenly. You nap without worry.

Hobi wants to tell him it’s alright. And it is alright if he needs to cry. Hoseok understands. Sometimes getting what you want finally- the person you love healthy and happy- Can bring up a happy sort of sadness.

Sadness, unfortunately, has its way of sticking around.

You doze below Yoongi, completely unworried and unburdened by any of it, and what a lovely lucky thing that is. For a single moment, Yoongi wishes that nothing would change. That you’d never leave this room and stay just like this. Happy and safe and satisfied forever.

He hovers, lingers in the moment. Tae and Hobi hold him. Letting him process it for a breath or two. The moment will end whether Yoongi wants it to or not.

Tae and Hobi don’t bring it to your attention and you slumber on, unaware. Gently pausing, getting up, abdominal muscles straining. Each of them presses a kiss to either side of your mate's face. Silent in their loveing but Yoongi finds it no less reassuring.

The next time you blink away the haze you can see evening yellow streaming through the window. Casting all of your loves in honey shadows. You don’t think to count for bodies, you’re too focused on the task in front of you.

The very very big task in front of you.

Your instincts sniff it out like blood on easy prey. Your cheek is still on Tae's lap. And there is a scent a few inches from you that makes your fever spike again. Your eyes flutter open and you see it.

Her hardness is right there, poking up through the translucent fabric of her dress. Flush with her stomach and visibly pink and hard. Barely contained by her panties in a way that you know must be uncomfortable.

Tae has such a pretty cock, such an unfairly pretty dick. No doubt, she's still hard because of your heat hormones. Hard and thick and lovely bulging in her skirt. Just looking at it makes your eyes water, your tongue feels slippery and hungry in your mouth.

You start to shuffle forward only to be momentarily distracted by movement in the door.

It’s a little comical the sight of someone so small carrying your big buff omega. Jiminie handles Jungkook like he’s nothing, like he hardly weighs more than a pillow. both of Jimin's hands underneath his knees. Jungkook's arms loosely wrapped around the alpha's neck, kept snug against his front.

Jungkook looks blissed out and dazed. His strong neck and shoulders are bitten up and dotted with red semi-circles. His chest is too- at least from what you can see of it. He's bundled up so close to Jimin's chest, it almost makes his usually muscular form look small. He's probably feeling small and omegaspacy like you are.

He's still knotted to Jiminie judging from the tender and careful way that Jimin carries him.

Jimin deposits both of them in the nest without any unintentional pulling or unknotting the omega. You perk up a little, chin balanced on Tae's knee to watch. Hobi cranes his body, bending backward without getting up, twisting and reaching so that he can get his hand in Jungkook’s hair.

“How is he?”

“Little fucker tried to bite my knot.” Tae giggles, her tummy makes her cock jiggle. You’re so close. All you have to do is press your mouth to the fabric and it will practically be inside. Your tongue is already pushing out and-

She shuffles away, every inch a heartbreak. You are too tired to chirp.

She reaches back mirroring Hobi's position, long chestnut hair spilling in the nest, arching her back and looking at both Jimin and Jungkook upside down so she can tangle her hands in Jungkook’s raven-dark hair. So that her other hand can settle on Jimin’s calf. Sporting several bite marks of his own.

You're too tired to whine or chirp to get her attention. But across the nest, Jungkook shifts. Restless.

“Do we need to muzzle you like we muzzle Joonie, Koo?”

Koo has little more than a huff in response. Uncharacteristically tired after being thoroughly put through his paces by Jimin. But it’s only the first wave, and like I said, hormones take a while to build

For everyone, not just omegas.

Whatever quiet moment Jin and Namjoon are having in the hall comes to an end as Namjoon carries him in, bridal style and no longer knotted to the pack alpha. Not all of you can be as dexterous as Jimin is. Jin doesn’t look like he minds, happy to be placed next to you. Taking Hobi's spot or close to it. It's almost like Namjoon puts Jin on top of your little puppy pile.

It's where Jinnie wants to be, on top of his pups.

Namjoon’s hands linger, but only just, he stands up straight but then ducks down to run his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, messing it up.

“Oh, my fucking god-” Yoongi says, a little incredulous. Already flushing even though Namjoon hasn't even spoken yet.

“Proud of you,” Namjoon says. A grin that is ever so slightly hassling on his face.

Yoongi's cheeks and ears go splotchy. “I’m fucking my mate Jonnie, it’s not something I need a participation trophy for.”

“We could get you one- engrave it ‘best cock in the fucking world’ or something. whatever you want.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“I was hoping you’d take it as some light flirting, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“I’m literally still inside of our omega and you want to flirt with me?” He’s more perplexed than he is annoyed. He looks a bit like a fluffed-up cat, astounded to realize the toy he's been caught playing with is, in fact, plastic and not a mouse.

Beside you, Hoseok flushes and you know it has everything to do with Yoongi calling you ‘ours’ and not just ‘mine’. Namjoon got the job done. Yoongi is no longer looking down at you like he might cry.

“He called your cock great; I think that hardly classifies it as ‘light’” Tae says.

“Guys, I am literally still-“

Jimin pushes Jungkook to the side, all so that he can grind his knot in again, deep, still not going down enough to pull out. The omega lets out a choked whine, at Jimin’s mercy. “I am too- never stopped me.” He turns to Tae. Hips rocking in circles. Absent-minded.

Jungkook tangles a fist in the nest and takes it with sweet little 'hng' noises. “That dress is honestly-“ Jimin trails off, Jungkook lets out an aborted whine at the pulsing in Jimin’s knot.

Tae just raises her eyebrow at him. If Jimin wasn’t red before he is now, especially once her eyes flick down to where he’s knotted to Jungkook. Pushing at his streached rim. Little cock helplessly weepy. His abdominal muscles faintly glossy from drying slick.

Yoongi splutters and you smile against Tae's thigh. Purring your agreement with Jimin. Now if only your hands would cooperate in taking off her dress or at least hike it up-

But Jinnie shuffles over. Still a little non-verbal in Omegaspace, just like you and Kookie. But to the point where his sentences are broken but sure, said with a pout and a command.

“Needed to check, needed to make sure." The others move for the pack omega, parting like the river over a stone. you don't immidatly register it, letting out a petulant whine when yoongi starts to move away.

Jinnie touches your tummy gently, delicate in the way that he sets palm against flesh. Finding it swollen and heavy. Perfectly soft and delicate. He touches you like someone would touch a flower, worried about the slightest brush too bruising.

You’re momentarily distracted by it. The warm heat of Jin’s palm, the flushed pout to his lips and cheeks. Pretty- your pack omega is so pretty in heat. You look up at him, sprawled. Yoongi twitches hardening inside of you as Jinnie bends low to nose at your stomach. Dark hair tickling your belly button.

Jin presses his nose just above your waistline and sniffs deep. when he breathes out it's a purr. Loud and satisfied.

He picks himself up and looks down at you with eyes that reflect no light, no anything. Dark and round like stones. "Bred omega, good packmate, good-"

Outside a bird putters close to the window. Jimin’s head jerks in it’s direction. Taught body relaxing the second he realizes it. Namjoon blinks down at you and Jin slowly.

Yoongi is still somewhat hard but pulling out, and even though it's been 30 minutes since you came, it still garners him a small mewl of displeasure from your throat. He doesn’t let any of his cum slip out. Forcing the little that does come out back in with the tips of his fingers.

but jin needs to see, needs to check, he pulls apart the dewy folds of your cunt with his fingers, nuzzling with his nose, you're so sensitive you jerk, all but mewling when he dares to lap at your entrance. soothing where you got stretched. happy to find you unharmed.

You twitch and tremble. Above you, Tae laughs.

Jin's voice is a deep hiss. "More- more not yet."  He rubs his face into your stomach and thighs once more, makeing sure you're scent marked, that the alpha's who defile you will be able to smell him on you before they knot you. before he gets up on his knees and scents them. Hobi first, then Tae, then Yoongi.

He might get a little bit of your slick on them, his cheeks wet in patches with it. it's a little goss but honestly, Jin doesn't notice.

"Good pups. Best pups"

Above all of you, Joonie looks on fond. His knot is still half-inflated at the base of his cock. Still hard and achy and yummy, looking entirely too large to be real. As is normal. Everyone is bare besides your trio that helped you through your first wave and as you realize this, Jin tugs at Hobi's boxers. Displeased.

But you are not paying much attention to Hobi and Jin, still looking at Namjoon. At his knot between his legs. You clench down hard when you look at it, Yoongi’s fingers direct your gaze back up to him. Raising his eyebrows almost in challenge.

Namjoon's scent thickens on the air, but so does Tae's

Hobi ducks away at Jin’s attention and Jin won't let him rest, sniffing at the hollow of his throat, all but backing Hobi up against a wall. Like Jin’s worried he doesn’t believe him. “Best pups” he repeats again, like he's worried hobi doesn't belive him.

 “We haven’t even done anything yet-”

“Still. Best. Pups.”

You turn to Hobi, whining, and finally breaking your eye contact and the weird half-tension between you, Namjoon, and your mate. Namjoon finally gets off his feet. Sinking into the nest and shuffling up behind Jin, half pinning him to the nest. Distracting him from quite literally herding Hobi by pawing at his legs. Jinnie has pretty legs, strong thighs and muscular calves. They part when Namjoon prods, more instinct than conscious choice.

Namjoon's hands shift the pack omega's legs apart and start to guide his cock back, not for another round but maybe for comfort. Perhaps he's been influenced by Yoongi's cockwarming to soothe. (That's a nice idea, isn't it? All of their omega's warm and bred full, all at once). Obviously trying to settle whatever instincts are currently rocking through Jinnie.

But Jin makes a noise, alarmed and not entirely interested.

Namjoon is already half inside but he pulls Jin off his cock anyway. His knot falls, heavy and wet with slick and spend against his thigh. He sets Jin down. “Fuck.” The pack omega throws his head back against the nest and blinks away his daze the same moment that Jungkook sighs and pushes back against Jimin before the elder of the two finally pulls his knot free with a gentle hiss.

You assume, more than see- as Namjoon’s hand finds its way between Jin’s thighs to push his spend back into the omega’s hole. You still don’t know how Jin manages to take Namjoon unprepped- even inside of heat.

A whine starts to build while you look at it, how are you supposed to choose?

“Wanna switch?” Namjoon offers reading the pack omega in the way that only sort of soulmates do. You perk up, trying to push yourself onto your palms unsuccessfully.

Jin nods, messy hair fluffing. “Too sleepy, can’t sleep on your knot, s’too-” Jin licks his lips, eyes darting down to look at it. “-Distracting.”

Jimin’s hand is already on Jinnie’s ankle and Jk sits up on his hands and knees. He and Tae make eye contact and before you know it he’s shuffling over to her and she’s starting to shift.

It’s casual like that- your alpha’s talking about which omega to breed next and who needs it most. You’re the only one still blissed out and at ease. Maybe just because you had three packmates to settle you and they only had two.

But you don’t like it. The way that Tae moves away from you.

Your attention ping-pongs back and forth from Namjoon to Tae. Completely unaware of the pack alpha's dark eyes on you. The thing about omega's in heat is that they're a little bit dumb.

Jungkook watches you move, watches Tae jostle you. Pupils dilating in alarm. His own pleasure momentarily forgotten. Your hands tighten on Tae's thighs, a needy whine building in your throat.

“Wait- my mommy- mine-” You chirp. But Tae is already moving away.  

And before the others can even breathe Jungkook is jerking in Tae's direction. Lip lifted in a soundless snarl, answering your call first. The quickest.

“Kookie don't you dare.” "omega." “Wait don’t-”

Jk is quicker and stronger in heat. Too quick for Jimin to grab him or for namjoon to dive. He jolts, but at the last second you curve your arm over Tae's hip and his teeth hit you and not her. Hissing and spluttering, a smarting pain that honestly to God shocks you.

Jungkook’s teeth are still embedded in your skin as you look down. Cheeks hot, eyes wide. the rest of the pack falls silent. A bit stunned. But Jungkook just hurtles on, crouching over you and growling and hissing. Jungkook’s nose presses hard into your cheek as he bares his teeth. Licking them. glaring up at tae. “My pup- mine- alpha bad- alpha made omega sad-”

Tae lets out a crushed sound, upset.

Namjoon wastes no time, the first one to move after being shocked still. Getting up on his knees only to drag Jungkook back and away from you. Drawing him over his lap in quick succession, landing several swats over his ass. hard and loud. landing one over his cock for good measure and jungkook folds, breathing heavy. After the third hit to his cock, Jungkook’s yelps become moans.

Namjoon gives him no mercy when he pulls him onto his cock in one fluid movement, not bothering to prep him. Jungkook likes the sting, the stretch. Eyes rolling back.

Tae pulls you up onto her lap. Her cock trapped between your stomach and hers. But she’s not looking at your face but at your wrist. Yoongi shuffles behind you, inspecting it tilting it gently so that the red marks catch the light and they can see the damage jungkook did.

Your skin already already going purple and dark from a bruise.

“Are you alright- are you-” You are not worried about the pain in your arm, only the searing need between your legs. Tae has you in her lap, right where you want to be (unless?). You fumble with her skirt. Tearing it this way and that, hungry and insistent.

Her knot- you need her knot. You grind your hips together hot and filthy. Your pussy against her cock, her dress trapped between both of you. The fabric is rough even though you can feel her body heat through it.

“Mommy- mommy please-”

The room spins, and you're so dizzy you can't even think straight. Jungkook biting you must have sent you hurtling into your next wave of heat, which is not good. Not good at all. If your spikes are too close together at the beginning of your heat then they just won't end at all. A prolonged fever is too dangerous.

She barely pauses before she pulls up the hem to her skirt, letting her cock- pink-tipped and pretty- pop free of the honestly tiny panties, the bow at the front crumpled. You rub against it, turning it wet. The fire flows, sparking hotter and hotter and hotter. She grabs your hips, alarmed.

But Yoongi grabs your waist. Keeps you from putting it inside your hole, clenching around nothing, empty. You wail. You want it. Yoongi tucks his chin over your shoulder, hands running up and down your sides to try and soothe you.

"Wait little honey, let's get mommy nice and wet like this first." He guides you like that, to rub your cunt up and down Tae's length, every push of the head of her cock through your pussy makes you moan and twitch, wetter and wetter. Tae looks down, and it's not just your slick, but Yoongi's spend wetting her cock. Creamy, milky white tinged clear. Fuck.

at the base of her cock, her knot skin feels tighs and swollen, you rub low, getting it nice and wet too.

Yoongi does not let you go further, does not let you put in. his voice is husky in your ear.

"I want you to cum like this before you have her, you have to show Mommy how messy you get just from this, have to show her you're good for a knot too. A big pretty cock like that won't fit in unless you're nice and wet okay honey? You're too tiny to take it without cumming first and besides-" yoongi hesitates.

"don't you want to show them? jinnie and joonie and kookie?"

You nod, eyes glassy. Outside of heat, you might not believe him but right now Yoongi's words are gospel. At least your fever stops it's climbing, it doesn't get any better, but it doesn't get any worse. yoongi heaves a sigh of relief.

You really are unable to choose when you're in heat like this. It's not just useless talk. It really should be left up to Yoongi or the others, or else you'll hop from knot to knot, the heat fever frying your body and brain.

When you look over, Jungkook rides Namjoon. Facing you and pouting. Parting his legs so that you can see where they join. Mumbling something unintelligible that the others can’t make out. But your packmates keep you separated on opposite sides of the nest.

Behind him you hear the hush. “Is Koo? Rejecting her?” they hardly dare risk saying it out loud. “I don’t think so.” But still, the pack is not quite sure what just happened. why jungkook tired to bite you after tae moved away from you.

Deep in Jungkook’s chest, his instincts sing. My pup, alphas need to stay next to my pup, the pup needs pretty alpha. But words remain as effervescent as lucidity, the words just out of reach

Tears hover at the edge of your waterline, across the nest Jungkook watches you, sniffling too. Every time he even thinks of squirming away from Namjoon’s knot to get to you the alpha pulls him back onto it. After a few thrusts, Jungkook is too heat-addled to think straight. Too fucked up to glare at you (he's not glaring, he's staring at you with determination.)

In the nest still lying prone, Jin yawns, stretching out, toes curling. Showing off his cum stained tummy, his flushed cheeks, and the pretty round curve of his body. Raising his eyebrows at the alpha’s in your nest.

Your nest. Yours’s, Jin’s and Jungkook’s. Full of your pretty alpha’s with their pretty knots. 

Tae's cock rubs up between your legs, head bumping against your clit and you jerk, only to be met with Yoongi's sushing.

It's so different to have them so close, to have them fucking right here close to you. You're almost more interested in watching Jungkook and Namjoon fuck than you are in getting fucked by Tae. Almost. Your body grids forward unbidden. Eager even if your mind is hazy.

Jin's a bit more lucid (the three of you share a single brain cell in heat, and Jin will keep it in his front pocket for the foreseeable future.) Your packmates sit at attention watching as Jin parts his honey thighs just a little in invitation. His cheeks are rosy as he raises an eyebrow at them.

“Well? Who’s next?”

Three hands shoot into the air. Then after a moment, you shakily raise your hand too.

~-~

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Notes:

part of me did not like the intro of this chapter like at all, almost deleted all of it so many times but? it's so hard putting so much effort into parts of this series that i know will probably never see the light of the final version and then choosing to delete them, like yes the wordcount might be high and this stuff might be a little wordy but? people always wanted more of bily so even months later i'll give it to them.

so i re-read a really good fanfic that was set in like, victorian/viking stuff? and it totally altered my brain chemistry and i feel as though i was writing in a way thats a bit more like, old timey? maybe you can tell because i felt like this chapter was alot more like- flowy than usual.

honestly i'm super proud of the line "Flip-flopping until Jungkook can’t tell if it hurts too much to keep going or if it feels too good to stop." like ugghhhhhhhh thats a good one.

also the line 'each nickname more loving than your own name.' was a very very small refrence to call me by your name, just a little. i do think that the m/c is not very comfortable with her own name, or your name- whatever that may be like- it's very clear that i avoid using y/n as much as possible. i think it appears in the story a good like 10 times after almost a million words? (i double checked and it in fact appears 21 times in the entire story- thats actually mind boggling to me tbh)

the part where yoongi is talking about how healthy the m/c looks was directly inspired by a conversation i had with @trifoliumrex because her ideas are always always so impossibly good i can't resist putting them into the story.

if it's not clear, yoongi is definitly feeling the effect of the m/c's addictive slick and her hormones, he is equally as heat addled as the pack is, he's just never felt the true effects of an omega in heat before because he's never been mated to the person in heat so yeah- it's the mating mark! this won't be the last time we see him acting like an alpha because of the marks.

yoongi *his cock almost in the m/c* so who you fuckin? m/c: the fuck? you?

can we just apreciate how ridicilously hot it is that tae's tiddies jiggle when she growls like??? fuck me right?

now personally i love woumb fucking but i know it's not everyones cup of tea so i hope i skirted by it just perfectly

that moment where yoongi is talking about how there's no one alive whose felt her in heat is a direct dig at geumjae. yoongi does hate him a lot you know- even if he couldn't kill him.

i am so soft for boys that cum too quick but also have no refractory period like i am so into it it almost makes me feel like i'm not a lesbian. i think it's so /cute/.

tbh, i think it's actually fucking adorable how it's thoughts of namjoon penetrating the m/c that has yoongi cuming too soon. like fuck he's so into how namjoon fucks her and how big his cock is- do we think yoongi has a size kink and that that itch is scratched by namjoon fucking her? like just imagine at the begining it was namjoon fucking yoongi that got him off and then he goes out and gets a mate thats even smaller than him who could hardly take namjoon's cock at the begining...ugh i love that.

(tmi but) i always end up subconciously edging myself when i write smut chapters because obviously this is all stuff i'm into and i've got to sit and finish it and wait to like... take care of myself until after i'm finished or else my interest in writing goes away immideatly. i just know that if mommy tae where here she'd make me cockwarm her while i write the chapter and that is a fantasy i'm going to reward myself with later.

i think that this chapter sounds and feels alot different because the process was so drawn out and so much different than other chapters because i had to pause.

i realized while editing this that i needed more of hobi in it so! i hope you enjoy how the wordcount jumped!

yoongi is so horny but also hopelessly sentimental in this my god.

the m/c is so dumb and horny in this chapter like what do you mean she wants namjoon and tae's knot both at the same time? like she can't even take one of those at once without prep normally let alone both-

[lolaandthens0me]

I get asked this all the time, "So, how did you get into this whole diaper thing in the first place?"

I thought I'd take a moment to talk about it!

I am not a "factory-installed" abdl, but rather an "after-market upgrade".  I was first introduced to diapers and the whole abdl scene through my ex. They, being a longtime DL, told me about their diaper fetish pretty early on in our relationship.  I was only 18 or 19 at the time and thus quite innocent and inexperienced in kink and sexuality in general. I was at first a little confused by the thought of being turned on by diapers, but very open-minded to learn about and discover why this fluffy, absorbent plastic-backed thing did it for them, and for so many others I came to find out!

They encouraged me to do a bit of investigating and education on my own into the world of AB/DL to see if I could find something about it that spoke to or resonated with me.  I popped my online-kink cherry on the Tumblr of old. The Tumblr where porn, especially diaper porn, reigned like golden rays of sunshine. You could find it all and see it all on Tumblr back in the day. I quickly stumbled upon lots of ddlg content, and here was this thing that seemed to incorporate my budding, but long held interest in being submissive *and* my ex's interest in diapers. And ~voila!~ MisterAndLola was born.

We focused on building a ddlg dynamic, including the use of some AB stuff like onesies, cute socks, Goodnites, and calling them Daddy. We started our first Tumblr blog, TheDiaperedandtheDamned.  We began to take some cute pictures and post them on Tumblr and Reddit. I bought a few toys and coloring books, decorated our Guest Room with some decals and fairy lights, and started to try to wet in my pull-ups. 

It turns out, it was a lot harder than I thought! I would practice wetting while sitting on the toilet and when home alone. I was extremely nervous about leaking, and was struggling to get my potty-trained brain and body to let go. My ex had the thought -  why not get some adult diapers and try those?  I would surely not leak using those and it might make me feel safer or more comfy in the thought of "unpotty-training" my mind. The crazy thing is, it worked. And there I was, wearing diapers.  I believe the first couple I tried were ABU Lavenders and DC Amors. I felt extremely silly, but also shyly naughty wearing these crinkly, poofy undergarments. And the thought of peeing my pants, wherever I was, started to turn me on.  The taboo factor of willingly peeing in my "underwear" as a thriving, strong adult woman felt delicious.  I loved the feeling of being naughty. 

The first time I finally full-on wet my diaper, I immediately felt burning humiliation. And that also made me feel deliciously naughty. It turns out, I really have a thing for pee. My own, others’, it excites me and always pushes my button.  I don’t have an inherent fetish for diapers, but I think I do for pee, or more generally, liquids.  Even the feel of my own slippery wetness when I’m aroused does it for me.  And being covered in cum…yup…that does it for me too.

After months of growing and exploring and trying on the role of “little girl”, I realized that I really don’t find a lot of joy or fulfillment in age play.  The ddlg dynamic wasn’t really working for me or my partner at the time. But the fondness and growing arousal for being in and peeing in diapers…that was just beginning. Thus, my diaper kink was born.

[keepingitformyself]

especially for tender ones like us

A/N: hehehehehehehehehehehehe synopsis: humor, anxiety, and the salvation of love.

pairings: natasha romanoff x reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: no?

MASTERLIST

please do not repost my work anywhere for any reason at all. if you do see this happen to any of my stories, please let me know. thank you x.

natasha tries not to stumble over her words when she suggests staying in, instead of going out. she does not mean to, but she does. 

how could she not? could you really blame her for wanting a quiet night? something that isn’t so public. she wanted to see you, of course, but she wanted to see you in a space you could be comfortable in, without any of the outside world and free from any distractions.  

you listen intently through the other line, you fight the giggle at catching her little stutter. she can’t see, but you smile widely at the whole thing.

“yeah, we can stay in. i can cook us dinner,” you nod. natasha’s shoulders drop in a quiet sense of relief at your words. her lips curl into a smile. “i’d like that. i can’t wait.”

although this would only be the fourth time you had met up together, to natasha, it felt like the first every single time. 

you continue talking for a little while more. natasha shares details about her day, work, and what she ate during lunch. she tells you how on her way to grab her usual coffee order, an americano, she decided she’d switch her order to a matcha latte after having had you recommend it to her. she tells you, 

“it was good, but not nearly enough caffeine for me to keep up with,” she said, her tone light but teasing. and while it hadn’t become her new favorite drink, just knowing she’d tried it for you was more than enough. her words sent your thoughts spiraling, a warmth blooming in your chest. you were certain that if she were standing next to you, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss her right then and there.

but you can’t do that so instead, you just fall back on your bed like a high schooler talking to her crush. 

when you finally do meet up the following evening, natasha is buzzing with nerves she doesn't understand. she has taken down whole regimes and has fought aliens from space, yet she seems to draw the line when it comes to facing you. 

she knocks on your door, her other arm clutching a brown bag containing wine and flowers. a reasonable offering if you’re having dinner with someone you want to impress. 

when you answer the door, you're wearing a cream-colored knit sweater. 

“i thought i heard pacing out there.” you joke. 

natasha’s cheeks flush as she tries—and ultimately fails—to fight the smile tugging at her lips. “i wasn’t pacing,” she says, though the slight crack in her voice gives her away.

you step aside and invite her in, and neither of you acknowledges the quiet intimacy of the moment. it feels like more than just dinner, more than just a simple evening in your apartment.

you’re about to cook for her, and somehow, that feels monumental.

natasha’s nerves are a mess, though she can’t quite figure out why—or maybe she can. maybe it’s the way your presence makes her feel unsteady, as though the ground beneath her shifts whenever you’re near.

but natasha doesn’t want to be nervous.

she saw once—a penguin mistaking a sleeping walrus for a rock. the penguin had been caught completely off guard when the walrus stirred, nearly crushing it before it scurried away just in time.

natasha had found it funny at the time, the way surprises can sneak up on you. but now, thinking about it, it doesn’t feel so funny. it feels… unnerving.

surprises are bad for the heart, she thinks. she’s been taught her whole life to avoid them, to anticipate every possibility before it unfolds.

but knowing too much, being too prepared—that can hurt, too.

her thoughts are interrupted by your laughter, light and unburdened, as you guide her toward the kitchen. your smile is so easy, so genuine, and she can’t help but feel how good it is to exist in this space with you.

she offers to help you cook, but you shoo her away instead. you make her watch.

she sits there, with her hands on her lap, and just stares. and she can’t help the look of longing on her face. the kind of thing that suggests she wouldn’t mind this being a constant. 

you made pasta for the evening. nothing too spectacular, but natasha had treated it like you were a top chef and had spent hours crafting everything with your bare hands. 

and then once you’ve plated food for you both and you’ve gotten down to a few bites, you notice the small sigh natasha lets out. the flutter of her eyes as she takes in the meal. 

you smile at her reaction as you move some of the food with your fork. 

“do you like it?”

she looks at you, mid-chew, her mouth stuffed with the food, but she manages a smile. 

“yeah, uh, yes it’s good. it’s so good,” she says, hand over her mouth. 

you continue eating, talking about everything and anything. the night was filled with small moments that would bleed into much deeper ones. you laughed, she smiled, you smiled, she laughed. the kind of things one feels they become when around those who make you tender. 

and you don’t know how or when but you try not to notice how little by little natasha seems to retract a little. 

you decide maybe she needs a small moment for herself and start cleaning up the table. she offers to help, but you wave her off, insisting she relaxes. 

she tries to, but realistically, natasha doesn’t know how to relax. so she sits back and stares at you like she isn’t sure what to do with herself. she isn’t used to this at all. spaces like this–warm, cozy, comfortable.

the impending guilt comes. it’s all so layered. she feels so much at once. the nervousness, the anxiety, the fear of loss, the fear of not being present enough. 

natasha doesn’t know how to be here without sacrificing so much. 

after a while, natasha speaks up. 

“i should probably get going.” her voice too casual to sound like she meant it. she tries not to notice the look of disappointment on your face when you turn around to face her. 

“you don’t have to.” you find yourself saying, not wanting her to leave. 

she hums, something that says she’s already made up her mind. she gets up and gathers her things. 

you follow her to the door, or at least try to—but you pause at the end of the hall when you see her linger near the door, uncomfortably. unsure if she should leave. 

you call her out on it. “you can stay longer if you want.”

natasha wrestles with herself because she really wants to. she looks at the door as if it’d answer for her. 

you’re letting her know. 

natasha feels awkward, clammy hands. she doesn't know what she’s doing. and it’s hard to think of anything else when your eyes are screaming, don't actually leave, at her. 

you look at her carefully, trying to see if you can find any clear indication of what she may be feeling, but it isn’t hard to figure out the redhead in front of you. 

you’ve noted quite quickly how easy it comes for her walls to lower when you’re around. and if there’s anything you’ve learned from that, it’s that natasha romanoff isn’t the trained killer everyone thinks she is. 

sure we all have certain versions we show to certain people. but the natasha you know is anything but rough-edged. the natasha you’ve come to know is actually quite the opposite of what everyone else perceives. 

she’s tender, in her own silent way. too afraid to ever let too much slip away that she’s so painfully aware of everything around her. 

natasha is tenderness wrapped in quiet strength, a paradox of someone who feels deeply but guards herself fiercely. she sees the world clearly—the beauty and the harm—and carries that weight like a constant ache.

like she knows the world hurts more for those most aware of hurt. 

her tenderness isn’t soft; it’s sharp, vigilant, always bracing for the pain that comes with letting others in. you can see it in the flicker of her gaze, the way she hesitates as if expecting the world to hurt her.

and yet, she doesn’t harden. she holds onto that fragile, open part of herself, even when it would be easier not to. it’s beautiful and a little heartbreaking.

natasha looks up at you, then back down at her hands. just above a whisper, she says, 

“i don't know what i’m doing.” 

“that’s the most fun part.” you joke. she smiles, she doesn’t know how to say she wants more time. 

how could she say she feels greedy at this moment? she wants to protect being here with you. we have such little time, she thinks. 

bashfully, she steps closer to you, “i don't want to go.” she says. 

“then don’t.” and natasha almost complies. instead, she takes a step closer, her hand lifting towards your cheek. she’s so close now. 

she kisses you, soft, and shy, but you make her feel sure when your arm circles her neck, deepening the kiss altogether. when she pulls back, her forehead rests against yours, she lets out a shaky breath. 

“maybe i’ll forget my scarf,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“please do,” you replied. please leave your scarf, please linger near the door uncomfortably instead of leaving. please always come back. “that way you’ll have to come back later for it.”  

and just like that, her quiet uncertainty washes away. 

she takes her scarf off and drops it near the door. you follow her actions, you smile, amusement in your eyes. 

later that night, when natasha gets home, she texts you. 

i forgot my scarf. 

you reply, you’ll have to come get it then. 

[bouquetface]

Your Future Spouse's Chart within your Chart

If you flip your chart - make 7th house the first house - you can read it as if it is their birth chart to find some info on your FS. This won't be fully accurate but can help confirm/support or deny info in the D1 & D9 - especially if you are unsure how to read D9.

KEEP IN MIND: This won’t be your FS’s literal birth chart. It can show you how you see them & their place in your life. This is only one method & can’t be relied into give total accuracy.

How to flip a chart?

You can simply read it using the 7th H as first.

However, If you’d like the visual:

📍go to astroseek - generate your chart - look for where it says Ascendant.

📍 click on Ascendant - scroll to pick the sign of your 7th H:

IN-DEPTH EXAMPLE READ

KEEP IN MIND: This is ofc not the actual chart of the FS. This will provide a little insight on how the chart owner will see the spouse & how the spouse fits into their life.

Spouse’s Appearance

Pisces First House - Jupiter (ruler) exalted in 5th:

The partner may be tall & have a lighter or paler skin tone for their race. Jupiter exalted gives height, Cancer indicates light complexion. Pisces indicates a soft & relaxed look.

Jupiter is retro. I never see retrogrades affecting the appearance. Rather 7th H Lord retro shows the partner might be from a past life - you have unfinished business/problems to go back on.

The ruling planet of first house is exalted. This shows the chart owner will be very attracted to their spouse. The spouse might be their exact type and/or attraction is instant & natural.

Now you might be like well ofc everyone is attracted to their partner - otherwise why be with them? But in some cultures people get arranged marriages & that physical attraction isn’t there. And in other cases, I’ve seen people who get with someone who isn’t their exact type. They overlook certain traits or learn to love them because they love the partner.

- ex: my sister always liked tall guys but her spouse is slightly shorter than her (7th H ruler mercury conjunct ketu). Ketu decreases - it can sometimes give a shorter height.

ex.2: my friend’s bf has misaligned teeth (7th H ruler saturn in gemini). Saturn rules over teeth/bones.

Spouse’s Career & Reputation

Jupiter rules 10th house and is in 5th. Generally this shows in career they could b working with children and/or have people looking up to them. Possibly a leadership role. Mercury in sag 10th house shows someone who acts as an advisor in career. They could be a literal teacher or they simply teach/help others in the workplace - either it’s their part of their role or they’re being a nice a nice coworker.

Their career may require gambling or risks (5th H influence). For example: Financial advisor - they don’t know 100% the correct path when they advise others so risk is involved with other people’s money. They are likely in a leadership position (5th H influence & Jupiter influence).

However, in this case it’s likely the couple may work together. 7th H is in 10th H & 2nd H ruler (Mars) conjunct Venus in 8th shows the couple is involved with one another’s money. If they don’t work together, they are still likely to join their money & assets with these specific placements. In their unflipped chart, DK is in 10th - another big indicator of working with one another.

We can’t ignore Mercury is debilitated in 10th. The spouse may have a bad reputation. They may at some point in their life so something scandalous. People will find out. In this case, Mercury as the 7th H ruler is debilitated. It may actually be the marriage/chart owner who is involved in the dismantling of their spouse’s reputation. This can be something small or something big depending on what’s going on in the d9.

small ex: Chart owner has done something that ruined their own reputation. When together, certain people from chart owner’s past gossip or think negatively about the spouse too.

Spouse’s Family

In this chart you have: Saturn in 4th H, Debilitated 4th H ruler & Moon in 6th H, 12th H ruler in 4th H - This can indicate the spouse has a poor or complicated relationship with their mother. Their mother may have been distant or absent - emotionally or physically. Their upbringing may have been demanding & disciplined but lacking emotional warmth. Due to so many indicators, it becomes HIGHLY likely the spouse’s relationship with the mother/family is complicated. However, the issues may be resolved by the time of meeting.

[ancientwastedlores]

Homelander Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

I’m a Loki girl through and through, but a recent The Boys rewatch kinda got me obsessed with Homelander, so I thought I’d write a quick little angst fic based on the Somebody Else x My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys” mashup (which I have been playing non-stop by the way. My boyfriend has accepted this new way of life.)

Huge thanks to @blindmagdalena for encouraging me to write this! 

I haven’t written fiction in a while, so I hope this is good! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Homelander Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Oh, here we go again. 

You put on a plastic smile while he holds your wrist in a death grip behind your back. 

The cameras flash incessantly, almost making your eyes water - whether that’s from the ache throbbing in your arms or the flashes, you can’t tell anymore. 

"Homelander! Are you going to cameo in A-Train’s multiverse movie!?"

"Homelander, is there a universe where you are A-Train!?" 

Homelander laughs, flashing his sharp pearly whites. He exudes charisma as he raises his hands to stop the line of questions. 

"I guess you’ll just have to catch the movie next week, boys!" 

He pulls you closer to him. "For now, the missus and I have to make it Vought for the premiere!" 

With a flourish, he flips his cape like the showman he is and then holds you as he launches, leaving the reporters in the dust. 

You feel your tears trail behind you as he whisks you to the penthouse. Normally, New York looks bejeweled from this incredible height. Tiny dots of lights up and down the massive steel and glass buildings. At this height, life is erased. Humans are erased. It’s tall shapes and big shadows, like an unfinished rendering of a video game. 

You’ve always loved flying, but you suspect you’re in for a hard time once your feet touch the marble floors in the penthouse.

------------------------------------------------------------- 

Homelander stayed silent for hours after getting home. You decided to bake him some banana bread - his favorite - and whip up a good old-fashioned chocolate milkshake. The scent of it usually makes him forget whatever he was angry about, but it doesn"t seem to be working right now. 

He paces the room, his rich red cape trailing behind him in the most dramatic way. Homelander has his theatric tendencies, and you have learned to indulge them. 

Even when the cost is high. 

"What’s wrong?" you ask despite your better judgment. 

"What could possibly be wrong? You’re the Jackie Kennedy to my John Kennedy. What could be wrong about that?" he snaps. 

"John…" 

"Why you?" he asks. "Why you and not me?" 

"Me BECAUSE of you, John; they wouldn’t care about me if I weren’t dating you!" 

He heaves, his eyes red without the aid of a laser. His chest rises and falls as his brain scrambles for a response. He is angry; no, he wants to be angry. He just wants something to rage about. 

He isn’t actually angry that the reporters swarmed the two of you and bombarded you with a hundred questions before paying attention to him. After all, the questions were about him. What’s he like as a boyfriend? What’s the cutest thing he’s done for you? Have you ever worn the cape? Would you ever be in a movie with him? 

No, there"s something else. You’ve given up trying to dig deep and find meaning in his outbursts because, more often than not, you get it wrong. Some obscure random thing might have happened 5 minutes or 5 years ago and he seethes about it before calming down. 

This is life now. 

"Are you actually mad at me?" you ask. "I won’t leave this penthouse if you don’t want me to." 

He laughs - a sarcastic, painful one. You’re all too used to this. 

Homelander looks you up and down as if scanning you. Assessing you. As if asking himself what you mean for his approval points and how you look on his arm. 

You are by no means perfect, but Homelander loved that about you. He never lied that you were the hottest one he’d been with or even the most intelligent. But he loved that you loved him. He loved that you forgave his outbursts and allowed him space to throw a tantrum or brood silently. 

He loved that you were patient with him, which is more than anybody had ever been with him. But he often tested that, too. 

"You know what, I think I'll do this premiere alone. I wouldn’t want you to feel out of place in such a big crowd." 

That stings. You’ve never been a showman or particularly extroverted, but you wanted to try. For him. And you thought you were getting pretty good at it, too. 

But you nod. There’s no use in arguing. 

Clearly, though, he isn’t done. "I mean, I know you hate putting yourself out there, and you end up a nervous wreck after these events. I don’t want to spend the night taking care of you." 

"Sure. I understand." 

Somehow, your neutral, bland response does not anger him. For some funny reason, it relieves him that he doesn't have to fight with you to get what he wants. 

He turns on his heel and exits the house without another word. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

You exit the shower and spot the dress you were going to wear for the premiere. In typical Homelander fashion, he wanted you to match his colors rather than A-Train's colors. This was A-Train's night, but he'd be damned if you wore anyone else's aesthetic on your body. 

It’s a red-white-and-blue dress with a dramatic, asymmetrical neckline and fitted bodice with sparkling red and blue sequins transitioning into a voluminous, flowing skirt. Homelander picked it and got it tailored just for you. He knew the parts you were insecure about and made the designer alter the dress to ensure you felt your best. The poofy ball gown style skirt hid your ass, which you didn’t like the shape of. The neckline softened your broad shoulders, which you always felt made you look too masculine. But Homelander made sure the neckline didn’t hide your neck and collarbones, which you loved. 

You touch the rich satin fabric, your heart aching. You were so excited to show this dress off, hanging on to his arm as he flashed his charming, boyish smile. You consider wearing it, even if it's just to clean the kitchen, but decide against it. It would hurt too much. 

You put on a clean pair of sweats and potter to the kitchen. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you decide to just watch the live broadcast of the premiere and make do with that. 

Three hours pass - you’re asleep on the couch at this point with the TV still running. The premiere ended, and now the channel is playing clips of all mentions of the multiverse in all the past movies. You’d watch if you weren"t so emotionally exhausted. 

A click of the front door wakes you, and through blurry eyesight, you see a smudge of red-and-blue enter. You prop yourself up and rub your eyes sleepily. 

"Hey." 

He sounds like he’s in a jolly mood. 

"Hey," you say back. "How was the premiere?"

"I missed you…" he says, voice dripping with sincerity. 

"I missed you too…" you bring your arms up as if inviting him to cuddle. 

You know he had a miserable time without you. He fucks things up for himself and comes back like a baby in need of consolation. 

Sure enough, he makes his way to the couch, where you’ve created a little nest of fluffy pillows and blankets, and practically falls onto you. You wrap your arms around him as tightly as you can while he buries his nose in your neck. 

"So. Is the movie every bit as terrible as you thought?" you ask, knowing he’s in the mood to shit-talk A-Train. 

"Worse," his voice comes muffled. "Terrible. Horrible. Garbage." 

You laugh and push him lightly so you can have an audible conversation. "Tell me about it." 

"It baffles me the bullshit Vought comes up with. So pointless and bland and unnecessary. And A-Train was eating it right up. Lapping up every last bit of praise like a fucking dog."

"A-Train looked lost in the spotlight. He cannot handle it like you do," you say. "Nobody does." 

A giddy smile crosses Homelander’s face. You pinch his cheeks lightly and then run your fingers through his perfect blonde hair. "Do you want to watch something half-decent and doze off on the couch?" you ask. 

"No… I want you to put that dress on so I can fly us to dinner."

You look at him, your heart twisting painfully in your chest. His boyish grin is disarming, softening your resolve just like it always does. You want to say no. You want to tell him you’re too tired, that the emotional whiplash of his moods has wrung you out like an old sponge. 

But you know that’s not what he wants to hear.

You force a smile instead. "Sure.”

You stand, your legs unsteady, as you head to the bedroom to slip on the dress. It feels heavier now than when you first tried it on. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks. 

You catch your reflection in the mirror. The dress is stunning—perfect, even. He had it made for you, tailored to his vision of you. But when you look at yourself, you see the hollow shell of the person you used to be. You see someone who bends and folds and breaks under the weight of his love.

You hear him calling from the living room, impatient. "You ready yet? You’re gonna knock 'em dead."

You close your eyes, gripping the edge of the dresser until your knuckles turn white. No, you cannot leave him. He needs you, and he doesn"t mean to be mean. He’s trying to make up for it, isn’t he? Stop being such a sensitive, emotional baby. Get the fuck out there and let him show you how sorry he is.

You enter the living room, the satin catching the light and making you look almost ethereal. Homelander is stunned by his own creation. 

"Gorgeous. Fucking perfect." 

You smile and do a little twirl, feeling like the most beautiful girl in the world. 

He rises from the couch, his cape draped dramatically over one shoulder, and strides toward you like a man who owns the world because he does. "You’re my queen. The only one who can keep up with me."

Yes, but do you want to? Or do you want to slow down a bit? Savor the small moments and not spend your life waiting for the next attack? 

You can do nothing but kiss him. He pulls you close by the waist and almost devours you in his frenzy. Waves of emotions crash over you, voices urging you to both switch off your brain and get far away from the broken man. 

How much more of this can you take? He will make it his mission to find out.

He pulls away and flashes his pearly whites. "Ready to lift off?" 

"Abso-fucking-lutely" you smile back. 

------------------------------------------------------------- 

The restaurant is one of the most exclusive in New York—floor-to-ceiling glass windows that overlook the city, tables spaced far apart to ensure privacy, and a waitstaff so attentive it’s almost suffocating. Homelander loves it here. Not because of the food, though it’s excellent, but because everyone here knows who he is. They don’t gawk or ask for autographs, but you can feel their reverence in every stolen glance, every hushed whisper. He thrives on it.

You sit across from him, the candlelight bouncing off the sequins of your dress. He's been in an unusually good mood since you arrived, and for a moment, you let yourself believe tonight might actually be different. He's been complimenting you all night, his eyes lingering on yours in a way that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world.

“See?” he says, leaning back in his chair with a self-satisfied grin. “I knew this dress was the one. Look at them.” He gestures subtly to the other diners, some of whom are clearly trying not to stare. “They’re jealous. You’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”

You smile faintly, murmuring a soft “thank you” as you sip your wine. It’s moments like this that make staying feel worth it. But then, as always, the warmth starts to curdle.

The turning point is subtle. It always is. He starts picking at his food, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. You can tell something’s shifted. You don’t know what triggered it this time—maybe it was the waiter who smiled a little too warmly at you or the couple at the next table who didn"t acknowledge him quickly enough.

“Do you think they’re staring at me or you?” he asks suddenly, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.

You blink, taken aback. “What?”

“I mean, they’re obviously looking at me,” he continues, his voice low and dangerous. “But you’re the one soaking it up, aren"t you? Sitting there like some fucking… princess.”

The words hit like a slap. “John, what are you talking about?”

He leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “You love this, don’t you? The attention. The glamour. The fucking dress. You think it’s all for you.”

“Of course, I don’t,” you say quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I came here because you wanted to. I’m here for you.”

“For me,” he repeats mockingly, his lips curling into a sneer. “That’s rich. You think I don’t see the way you look at them? Like you’re just waiting for someone better to come along. Someone who doesn"t scare you.”

“That"s not true,” you whisper, but your voice sounds hollow even to your own ears. You glance around nervously, hoping no one is listening. Of course, they are. Even if they can’t hear the words, they can feel the tension radiating off him like a live wire.

Somewhere, you blame yourself for enabling this behavior. Your timidness… your eagerness to please… your avoidance of conflict… it feeds him. If it were Starlight or Stormfront or anybody else, they would stand up to him and draw a boundary. And that’s what he needs - not a timid, sniveling fool who would bend over backward to play into his fantasies. 

He laughs bitterly, almost as if he agrees with your thoughts, and leans back in his chair. “You know what"s funny? You’re so scared of me, but you’re the real monster here. You just sit there, pretending to be this sweet, innocent thing, and you judge me for every little fucking thing I do or say.”

“I don’t judge you,” you protest weakly, your hands trembling in your lap. “I—”

“Save it,” he snaps, his voice rising just enough to make heads turn. “You’re just like everyone else. You love me when I’m the hero, but the second I let my guard down, you look at me like I’m some kind of freak.”

“John, please,” you beg, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we not do this here?”

“Why not?” he says, his smile cold and cruel. “You embarrassed me at the premiere, didn’t you? Couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Do you know how pathetic that made me look?”

“I was just respecting what you asked of me. And I thought you said you missed me,” you say softly, tears stinging your eyes. 

“Yeah, well,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “What do I know, right?.”

The rest of the dinner passes in a blur. He doesn"t apologize. He doesn"t even look at you. You pick at your food, your appetite long gone, and force yourself to smile when the waiter comes by to clear the plates. You feel like you’re suffocating, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest like a boulder.

When the bill comes, he doesn"t even glance at it. He tosses his card onto the table and leans back in his chair, looking more like a king about to call for an execution. 

“Ready to go?” he asks casually, as if nothing happened.

You nod, your face carefully blank. “Of course.”

------------------------------------------------------------- 

He flies you back to the penthouse in silence. The city lights blur beneath you, but you barely notice. Your mind is racing, your heart pounding. You know what you have to do. You’ve known for a while now, but tonight was the final straw.

When you land, he kisses your cheek and tells you he’s going to shower. “Don’t wait up,” he says with a wink, and then he disappears down the hall.

You wait until you hear the water running before you move. You slip out of the dress and back into your sweats, your hands trembling as you pack a small bag with just the essentials. You don’t know where you’re going yet—maybe a hotel, maybe a friend"s place—but you know you can’t stay here.

As you zip up the bag, you glance around the penthouse one last time. It feels empty, like a stage set after the actors have gone home. You think of all the times you convinced yourself this was enough. That he was enough. That you could fix him if you just loved him hard enough. And he would love once you fixed whatever was wrong with you. 

But you can’t. You know that now. He needs someone stronger. 

Braver. 

You leave the dress draped over the back of the couch, a silent goodbye. Then you slip out the door, the sound of the water still echoing in the distance.

For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t look back.

------------------------------------------------------------- 

It happens on the fourth night. 

You"re staying at a hotel under an alias, the type of place he wouldn"t normally stoop to visiting. You"ve been trying to keep your head down, trying to breathe for the first time in what feels like years. But deep down, you knew it wouldn"t last.

When the knock comes at the door—sharp, insistent—you freeze. Your heart hammers in your chest. You don’t have to check; you already know it’s him. You’ve been bracing for this moment since the night you left. And honestly, he took longer than you expected. 

Still, when you open the door and see him standing there, you’re not prepared. He looks almost unhinged, his hair slightly mussed, his eyes blazing with something between fury and heartbreak. His red cape is gone, but the suit clings to him like a second skin. 

“I found you,” he says, his voice soft, almost tender, but there’s a dangerous edge underneath it. “Of course I did.”

You step back instinctively, your hands gripping the edge of the door. “How did you—”

“Don’t.” He pushes the door open with ease, stepping inside like he owns the place. “Don’t ask me stupid questions. You really thought you could hide from me? Me?” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Come on, sweetheart. Give me more credit than that.”

“John…” you start, but he cuts you off, pacing the room like a caged animal.

“You left,” he says, his voice rising. “You just walked out. No note, no call, nothing. Do you know what that did to me? Do you have any idea?”

Your chest tightens. “I needed to.”

“Bullshit.” He spins to face you, his expression twisting with anger. “You didn"t need to do anything. You chose this. You chose to hurt me. After I rescued you from a pitiful existence and made something of you. Little Y/N wanted to be a writer but had no time. I rescued you from your shabby little apartment and gave you everything. Time. Money. Luxury. And this is what I get.” 

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” you say quietly, but your words only seem to inflame him further.

“No?” He stalks closer, his voice dripping with venom. “Then what do you call this? Running off in the middle of the night like a fucking coward? Hiding in some fucking run-down rat-shit hotel like you’re afraid of me?”

“I AM afraid of you,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. His face freezes, a flicker of something almost like pain crossing his features before the anger returns.

“You’re afraid of me?” he repeats, his tone incredulous. “I’ve protected you. I’ve given you everything. Everything you asked and didn’t ask for. You sound so fucking ungrateful. I loved you.” 

The words hit like a slap. You take a step back, shaking your head. “That's not love, John. That's control.”

“Don’t,” he snarls, his voice trembling with fury. “Don’t you fucking psychoanalyze me right now. I loved you. I still love you. And you—” he can’t stop his maniacal laughter. He wags his finger at you. “You!” 

Tears well in your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall. “I just think this isn’t meant to be.”

“Oh, you’re a fortune teller now?”

“John…” 

“Such a fucking saint, aren't you, saving us all from unhappiness. Or…” he smiles. A dangerous smile. “There’s someone else!”

The question knocks the breath out of you. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, his voice low and deadly. “There’s someone else, isn’t there? Is that why you left? Did you find someone who makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside? Someone who doesn"t scare you?”

“No,” you say, your voice breaking. “There’s no one else.”

“Then why?” he demands, his voice rising again. “Why did you leave me? Why did you—”

“Because it’s not love!” you scream. The first real, raw emotion you allow yourself to feel in forever. 

Homelander almost looks proud of you for it. 

“You keep being cruel to me. You keep saying horrible things, and I get it; I'm not intelligent or gorgeous or fucking V'd up like your other girlfriends, but GOD. Why are you with me if you hate me so much?” 

For the first time, you see Homelander shocked. “What? I don’t… I don’t hate you; what the fuck are you talking about?” 

You laugh in resignation and wipe your tears with the neck of your sweater. “Homelander, I’m not the one for you. I’m done.”

“You’re done? YOU are leaving ME?” 

He stares at you, his chest heaving, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. For a moment, neither of you speak. The silence is deafening. He’s confused that you think he hates you and cannot fathom why you would believe that. He gave you everything. In what universe is that hate? 

“I gave you everything,” he says, more to convince himself now, his voice raw. “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again. Part of you wants to desperately say you want to be back together when things are better. When you are stronger, and he is kinder. You want to believe that once you fix you, he will miss you. He will return and be so much nicer. Softer. 

But you know that time may never come. 

Just at this moment, Homelander wishes his powers had allowed him to read minds, too. Your face inscrutable, he has nothing to latch on to. He looks at you like you’ve just plunged a knife into his chest. For a moment, you think he might lash out, that he might destroy the entire block in a fit of rage. 

But instead, he takes a step back, his expression crumbling.

“You’ll regret this,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’ll miss me. You’ll see.”

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Maybe I will.”

He stands there for a moment longer, his fists clenching and unclenching, his jaw tight. Then, without another word, he turns and leaves, the door slamming shut behind him.

You collapse onto the bed, your entire body shaking. The weight of the confrontation crashes over you. Hot tears finally gush out as you clutch your pillow and sob quietly, knowing Homelander can still hear you. 

This isn’t over. Not yet. He will forever stalk the edges of your life, watching. Waiting for you to need him. 

You know Homelander well enough to know he doesn't let go of his toys without a fight.

------------------------------------------------------------- 

[daisymbin]

46. "you doodled hearts in my notebook again." with woozi :’)

ah!!!! so cute!!! thank you for requesting!! 🥰

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check out my masterlist! // jihoon’s m.list

fluff prompt #46: "you doodled hearts in my notebook again."

jihoon flipped open his notebook, ready to show the boys the new lyrics he'd been working on. the practice room was its usual chaos—mingyu rummaging through snack bags, chan tapping out a beat on his knee—but they quieted when jihoon cleared his throat.

“alright, listen to this,” he began, but the words caught in his throat when he looked down.

his notebook, usually filled with meticulous handwriting and carefully crafted lyrics, was now decorated with tiny hearts scattered across the margins.

“oh my god,” mingyu gasped, leaning over before jihoon could close the notebook. “again?”

chan burst into laughter, craning his neck to look. “that’s the third time this month, isn’t it? your notebook’s turning into a scrapbook.”

“it’s cute,” mingyu teased, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “you know she does it because she loves you, right?”

jihoon sighed, snapping the notebook shut. “can we focus on the lyrics?”

chan grinned, nudging mingyu. “i think he likes it, though. look at him blushing.”

“i’m not blushing,” jihoon shot back, his ears burning as he stuffed the notebook into his bag.

mingyu waved him off with a laugh. “whatever you say, loverboy. now, are you going to play us the song, or are we just here for show-and-tell?”

“the song,” jihoon muttered, trying to suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. no matter how much they teased him, he couldn’t deny how those little hearts made him feel.

later that evening, jihoon walked through the front door of your shared apartment, the soft glow of the living room lights welcoming him home. you were on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, flipping through a book. you looked up when you heard him, your face lighting up.

“you’re home,” you light up, setting the book aside. “how was work today?”

jihoon shrugged off his bag and walked over to join you on the couch. he sat beside you, leaning his head against your shoulder as the rest of his body melts against you. he let out a tired sigh, but there was something warm and soft in his expression.

“it was fine,” he said, glancing up at you. after a beat, a small smile crept onto his face. “you doodled hearts in my notebook again.”

your eyes widened, and you immediately covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “oh no. did the guys see?”

jihoon nodded, the memory still fresh in his mind. “mingyu wouldn’t shut up about it. chan either.”

“i’m sorry,” you said, though you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “i didn’t think they’d notice.”

jihoon shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “they notice everything. but it’s fine.”

you raised an eyebrow. “fine? you didn’t hate it?”

he let out a soft chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch. “hate it? no. i mean... it’s a tiny bit embarrassing, sure, but...”

“but what?” you pressed, leaning closer to him.

he glanced at you, his expression softening. “but it’s nice. it makes me think of you while i’m working.”

your cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “so you do like it.”

jihoon rolled his eyes, but the smile didn’t leave his face. “don’t push it.”

“you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased, poking his cheek. “maybe i should add more next time.”

“just don’t cover up my lyrics,” he muttered, though his tone was light.

you let out a laugh, holding out your pinky.

he stared at your pinky for a moment before linking it with his, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“you know,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter, “those little things you do... they mean a lot. even if mingyu and chan make it their mission to humiliate me over it.”

you leaned your head on his shoulder, your smile softening. “you really think so? i can stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

jihoon’s eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head quickly. “no, don’t stop. i like it.”

you tilted your head to look at him, surprised by how earnest he sounded. “even if the guys keep teasing you about it?”

he let out a soft chuckle, his fingers brushing against yours. “let them. they can say whatever they want. it doesn’t matter.”

“why not?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

jihoon turned his head to meet your gaze, his expression warm and sincere. “because it’s you. and i love everything about you. even your silly little doodles.”

your heart skipped at his words, the quiet affection in his voice making your chest ache in the best way. you smiled, letting your hand slip into his, your fingers intertwining.

“okay,” you murmured, your voice teasing but soft. “i won’t stop, then.”

jihoon smiled back, pressing a light kiss to your temple. “good. because, i dont want you to. & honestly, i think i’d miss them if you did.”

and for a moment, the teasing and chaos of the day faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet comfort of home. the hearts you doodled might have been small, but to jihoon, they were reminders of everything he cherished about you—your love, your care, and the way you always managed to brighten his day.

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 1

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

---

Steve's parents always locked their hearts in a safe in his dad's study at night.

For as long as Steve can remember, he watched them do it, pulling their hearts out of their chests and tucking them away in the safe in an easy, practiced motion - like a dance, like something they did without even thinking about it.

He liked it, liked watching them move in unison. It made him daydream about his own partner in the future, how they could move in sync with each other, anticipating each other's every movement and not having to say a thing to know what the other wanted.

Even his parents’ hearts were similar. They were both the same pale pink, bisected with only a few silver scars, and though they didn't quite beat in unison, it was close enough that Steve's young eyes didn't notice the difference. 

“One day,” his dad always said. “When you're old enough, your heart will go in here, too. When you're trained to be separated from it, when you're grown up.”

Steve wanted to be grown up more than anything.

But his heart never looked like theirs. Even when he got old enough to pull it out of his chest, to first show it to his beaming parents, it was a deep, unblemished red.

A kid's heart, his dad called it.

“It's not a bad thing!” his dad was quick to say. “You're young, Steven, you should have a kid's heart. Go be a kid.”

He ushered him out to play with Tommy and Carol, pleased as punch when the three of them came home to get snacks.

“You've made the right friends, Steven, my boy,” his dad said one day, while Steve was in his study, watching him take his heart out of the safe and tuck it into his chest. “Tommy's not bright, but he'll do what you say, and Carol looks like she'll be taking after her mother. Find yourself a girl who fits in, and you've got the makings of the next generation.”

Steve didn't really understand what that meant, but he liked his father's approval, and Carol and Tommy were the best friends he could ever imagine, so he guessed it didn't really matter.

—

The first time his parents leave for more than just one night, Steve protests.

He grabs onto his dad's slacks, his mother's skirts, and refuses to let go.

“Steven,” his mother hisses, a warning clear in her voice.

“Little tyke loves us so much,” his father says to his business partner, who’s waiting in the front hall. There's something in his voice that Steve's never heard before, something in his eyes that makes a chill go up his spine. “Give us a minute to say goodbye.”

His parents argue in his father's study. Steve hasn't been allowed in, so he doesn't know what they're saying, but he can hear the tone, knows it's angry. 

He's not sure what he did wrong, but it must be something, so when the door opens he flinches. 

Mom doesn't look happy, but she doesn't look unhappy, either, and Dad looks pleased, so he guesses it must not be something too bad.

“Come on, Steven, my boy,” his dad says, ushering him into the study. “I think it's time we trusted you with something.”

Steve perks up, eagerly following his dad into the office and over to the safe.

“Now, you know we lock our hearts in here every night to keep them safe,” his dad says.

Steve nods. “One day mine will be in there too.”

“That's right!” His dad is smiling again, but there's still something lurking in his eyes that makes Steve nervous. “But it's not just at night. We keep them here when we go away, too, and we need someone to stay here to keep them safe.”

The idea of being trusted with something so important outweighs the lingering nerves, and Steve lights up. “Me?”

“Of course! You're our son, Steven, the best of both of us! Who else would we trust with it?”

They still leave him alone, after that, more and more often, but Steve doesn't mind.

They trust him, and he's not going to let them down.

—

Steve doesn't really like keeping his heart in his chest. It's okay, for a while, but the longer it stays the more it feels like it's trapped - like his chest is too tight and he can't breathe, like he's more alone than he's ever been.

He doesn't think hearts were meant to be locked away, but his parents tell him different, so he listens.

They're just trying to keep him safe, after all, trying to make sure he's smart and strong and doesn't get hurt. 

—

"Ugh," Carol groans. "I'm so tired of my mom asking to see my heart at the end of the day. Like, I'm in middle school now, I don't need her checking if my feelings have been hurt."

"Mine still does it, too," Tommy grumbles. "Dad keeps telling her to knock it off at least."

Steve can't remember the last time his parents wanted to see his heart. 

"Mine leaves me alone now," he brags, because it feels like he should, even if his heart clenches painfully. 

"You're so lucky," Carol says wistfully.

"Already king of the castle, huh?" Tommy asks, jostling him with his elbow.

Steve snorts. "Yeah? If I'm king, what does that make you two? Prince and princess?"

Carol wrinkles her nose. "Prince and princess are for babies," she says. "We're not kids anymore." 

"What are we, then?" Tommy asks.

"Duke and Duchess," she says decisively. "I've read about them, they're like the second commands. The king's advisors."

"Yeah," Tommy says, bobbing his head. "We're like the royal court. The three of us can take on anything."

"Hearts out," Steve says. "That's what my dad says you have to do when you're entering into an agreement."

Carol and Tommy obey immediately, holding their hearts out in the middle of the little triangle they make. Steve holds his out with theirs. All three of them are a vibrant red, plump and solid - Steve's is a little deeper, a little fuller, than both of theirs, but he figures that's okay.

He's the leader, it should be different. 

"Now what?" Carol asks.

Okay, so, Steve doesn't exactly know. Still, he can guess, based on what his dad has mentioned about his business partners, and he confidently says, "Now we make sure all of us are worth dealing with. Liar's hearts are black, and people with hearts too broken to function are full of holes and scars, and hearts with no color can't be trusted."

The three of them inspect each other's hearts closely, then nod at each other. 

"We need to touch them, too," Carol says. "My mom says that's what you do with people you trust."

Steve isn't sure about that, but he figures it can't hurt, so they rotate hearts - Steve's to Tommy, Tommy's to Carol, Carol's to Steve, and then around in a circle until Steve's holding his own heart again.

It did hurt, a little. But it didn't feel bad, just a little scary.

It's okay, though, because it's Tommy and Carol. His Duke and Duchess, the royal court.

They'd never hurt him. 

—

"Hey Mom?" Steve asks the next time she's home when he gets done with school. "Do you want to see my heart?"

"What for?" she asks, a hint of confusion in her voice that doesn't show anywhere on her perfectly made up face. "Has it changed?"

Steve's shoulders droop a little bit. He set himself up for this one. "No," he admits reluctantly. 

She hums softly, more a vague acknowledgement than anything else, and goes back to pinning her hair up.

His mom and dad must be going out somewhere tonight. 

"Can I see yours?" he asks, wanting - something. He knows they'll lock their hearts away for him to protect before they leave, knows how much it means that they trust him with that, but sometimes he just wants to see them.

"Of course, darling," she says absently, pulling it out with a practiced motion and setting it on the vanity in front of him. 

It's still exactly the same as the last time he saw it. Steve glances over at her, but she isn't even looking at him. He bites his lip, then reaches out to touch it, his hand resting gently on top of it. 

His mom flinches, just the tiniest bit, but doesn't tell him to take his hand away. 

Steve frowns. "Does that hurt?"

"It always hurts when someone touches your heart, Steven," she replies. "That's why you need to keep it in your chest, why you need to be careful about who you let close to it."

He considers that. "But you let me touch it anyway."

"Of course," his mom says. "You're my Steven."

He likes the words, and if he were a little younger, he thinks they might fill him with warmth, make his heart flush even redder. But he's old enough now to recognize that tone - the same tone she uses when he hears her on the phone with one of her friends or one of her clients, and she thinks they're being stupid.

Steve isn't stupid. 

He pulls his hand away.

If his mom's heart hurts every time he touches it, then he won't reach for it anymore.

—

Steve is in eighth grade when they learn that people can't travel far from their hearts without suffering any ill effects.

Tommy's watched Steve's parents put their hearts in their safe and leave for dinner out while he was staying over, and he laughs when their teacher tells them that.

"Something funny, Tommy?" Mr. Clarke asks.

"Well, sure," Tommy says. "It's just that isn't true, right Steve?"

"Right," Steve agrees earnestly, eager to show off his knowledge on the subject. "Or it's not always true. Some people can go miles away from theirs, I've seen it."

He says people, and not my parents, because he knows better than to drop personal information like that in the middle of class. 

Mr. Clarke had been frowning at Tommy's laughter, but something about Steve's eagerness makes him smile. 

"You have?" Mr. Clarke asks. "Tell me more."

Aware that everyone's attention is on him now, Steve makes sure to slouch casually - he can't look too invested. "Well, they didn't just leave their hearts out in the open and unguarded. They left them with someone they trust to protect them."

Mr. Clarke's smile grows, his eyes lighting up a bit in excitement. "Ah! You found the loophole. Steve's right," he says to the rest of the class, making Steve preen just a little bit. "Heart exchanges! People can travel much further from their hearts if they're safely tucked away in the chest of someone else. They can even survive things that might have been fatal, if their heart was in their own chest."

He gives a little chuckle. "There's even anecdotes of things like soldiers leaving their hearts with their fiances as they go off to war, knowing they'll be kept safe. Romantic, if unlikely. There's been no conclusive evidence of someone able to survive such a distance from their heart for so long, even with the loophole."

Steve frowns. His parents have been gone weeks at a time, leaving their hearts safe with him. 

"What about if it's locked away in a safe, and guarded?" Steve asks. "I know - I mean, someone told me that would work."

Mr. Clarke frowns a little. "Even more unlikely, I'm afraid. There's some studies that have shown people can train themselves to go further and further from their hearts, but still not without ill effects." 

Kevin sneers. "Well it sounds like someone is a liar."

Steve bristles. 

Kevin Carson is the worst.

He's a bully. Both in the way that his dad taught him the word - the kids who are too stupid to realize that brute force will only get you so far in life - and in the way that makes Steve's stomach turn a little, choosing to pick on people who can't fight back. 

The last two years at Hawkins Middle, he'd have never gone after Steve. But Kevin wanted to be basketball captain, and Steve got it instead, and now Kevin's been dogging him every chance he gets.

It's starting to get really annoying. 

Before Steve can say anything, though, Mr. Clarke's moved over to Kevin's desk, frown deepening.

“You know better than that, Mr. Carson,” Mr. Clarke says, in his disappointed voice. “We don't ridicule anyone's curiosity journey in this class.”

Kevin scowls, but he mutters out an apology. Mr Clarke watches him for a moment longer before nodding, moving back to the front of the class to continue.

"Teacher's pet," Kevin hisses at him, loud enough for the others nearby to hear but not Mr. Clarke.

Steve's never really understood why that was a bad thing - why wouldn't you want your teacher to like you? - but he knows it is, so he grimaces.

"I just listen to Coach better than you," Steve replies. "Must be why I'm captain this year."

Kevin's expression shifts into confusion. "What?"

"You don't keep your grades up, and you're on the bench for the rest of the year." Steve shrugs, leaning back so he can show how pointless this conversation is - and open it up even more for others to hear. "Aren't you looking at an F in Mr. Clarke's class? Maybe you should have more enthusiasm for your curiosity journey."

—

Tommy punches Kevin at lunch that afternoon.

Someone starts shouting, "Fight, fight, fight!" and Steve and Carol look at each other, realize they can't find Tommy, and immediately go where the crowd has gathered. 

It parts easily as Steve and Carol push through to the center, where Tommy and Kevin are squared off warily against each other. Steve tugs at Tommy's arm, and Carol shoots Kevin a look as she helps herd Tommy off to the side.

“What happened?” Steve asks Tommy, voice low and urgent. 

“Kevin was trying to rally some of the team against you,” Tommy spits out. “Said that they should get you around back, teach you a lesson about the way things are supposed to work.”

Steve's stomach twists. It's not surprising from Kevin, but the rest of the guys are his friends.

“Did they agree?” Carol asks sharply, eyes flashing.

“No,” Tommy says. “They told him to shut up. But Kevin was going on about how you're not captain material.”

Okay.

Okay, that's better, Steve can handle that. Kevin's persuasive, but Steve can be, too, and Steve hasn't been picking fights that make the team have to run drills when Coach gets pissed at them.

He leans away, pivoting back to face the group.

“Seriously, Carson, again?” Steve demands, not bothering to hide how irritated he sounds. "You remember Coach has a zero tolerance policy for starting fights, right?" 

"I didn't start anything, he punched me first!" Kevin says.

"That's not what I heard," Steve says conversationally. "I heard you talking to the other guys, trying to get them to jump me while my back was turned. Didn't know you were a coward, Carson. You got something to say to me? Why don't you say it to my face?"

Kevin draws himself up and gets in Steve's face, and Steve hears Tommy curse and start to move forward, but Steve holds up a hand. 

Steve's not scared of Kevin, and he doesn't want Tommy to get in any more trouble. He juts his chin out, tipping his head to the side so he can look down at Kevin - Steve and Tommy started their growth spurts early, and it's only by an inch or two, but they're the tallest guys here right now. 

"You gonna hit me, Kev?" Steve says softly. 

"Maybe I will," Kevin says. "Maybe it's the only way to put you in your place. Your daddy gets you out of everything, but he can't get you out of a black eye, can he?"

Steve's not sure where anyone gets the idea that his dad gets him out of anything. His dad barely knows what's going on with his life - but he guesses he doesn't really have to, guesses it's more about his dad's reputation than anything else. 

Still, it turns his irritation into anger, and just a little bit of hurt, and Steve finds himself smiling.

"Black eyes fade, Carson. You know what doesn't?" He leans in, lowers his voice a little. "How's <lyour dad gonna react when you get kicked off the team, huh? Yeah, we all know he was a high school star - it's all he ever was - what do you think he's gonna say when you can't even be that?" 

Kevin looks like he's a second away from shoving Steve, and for a moment, Steve thinks - yeah, go ahead, come on. The stuff he's saying? Steve deserves to get shoved. 

But Kevin doesn't.

Steve pitches his voice back louder. "Starting fights at school and flunking science? Not looking good for you to play at all the rest of the year, Carson. And anyone who's not playing now can kiss their spot on the high school team goodbye."

"Yeah?" Kevin asks. "Who's going to go blabbing to Coach?"

Steve shrugs, giving a disappointed sigh. "I don't like it, but it's my duty as captain to tell Coach when someone isn't being a team player." 

It probably isn't. Technically, Steve isn't even officially the captain - their coach just wanted them to be prepared for what it's going to be like in high school, and the players all voted Steve as their unofficial captain. 

But he knows that Coach will appreciate that Steve is taking it seriously, if he does tell him about anyone affecting the rest of the team.

"What are you even pissed at me for?" Steve asks. 

It's a genuine question - he actually does want to know - but it comes out sarcastic, and he can't backtrack it. 

"Passing science? Not letting you walk all over me in Mr. Clarke's class?" he adds. "Or are you just trying to get the rest of the team to be a bully like you? You want to get them in trouble, too?"

Carol hip checks him, and - yeah, okay, he sees her point, he needs to end this before Kevin has a chance to spin things back in his favor. 

"You're not worth my time," Steve says with a sneer.

There's a beat of silence.

"Didn't you hear him?" Carol asks. "You're dismissed."

Kevin tries to pull a sneer, but with his split lip it looks more like a snarl. "Who died and made Steve Harrington king?"

Carol examines her nails, the picture of boredom. "Your spot on the high school basketball team, apparently."

“Give it up, Kevin!” someone calls out.

“Come on, man, I'm sick of having to stay late at practice because of you, can't you just chill out?” Mark Jefferson bitches.

There's a chorus of agreement, and Steve watches Kevin's face as he realizes he's not going to get any backup here. Anger flickers briefly in his expression before he rolls his eyes, huffs out “Whatever,” and stomps off.

Now that there's not going to be a fight, everyone else disperses, leaving Steve alone with Tommy and Carol.

"You need to tell me and Carol before you hit someone again, okay?" Steve says seriously. "Let us handle it first."

"Yeah," Carol agrees. "You'll get in trouble if you do it all the time - you have to only do it when someone really deserves it. When we tell you."

Steve doesn't want Tommy to hit anyone, no matter what, but he guesses Carol's right. 

He'll just have to keep an eye on them.

–

When he's home, he goes straight to his dad's study and stares at the safe.

He knows the code, but part of him doesn't want to open it up. If they lied to him about this - what else have they lied to him about? Did they think he was stupid, did they not care if he ever figured it out? 

But he knows he has to, so he opens it up, and stares at what's inside.

Nothing.

Of course his parents didn't leave their hearts with him to watch over, and he feels like an idiot for having ever fallen for it. 

Something in his heart cracks, but he ruthlessly ignores it, slamming the safe door shut again.

He doesn't care, he tells himself.

His dad's an asshole anyway.

–

Nancy Wheeler is the first person to truly hold his heart in her hands, without it hurting the slightest bit.

It makes it even worse when she calls him bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, and he feels his heart crack so deep he's not sure it will ever heal.

[wildestdreamsblog]

The Story of Us: Unedited

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You wake up in the body of the second female lead in a manhwa, determined to rewrite your fate. No longer willing to be trapped in unrequited love for the elusive main lead, Min Yoongi, you set out to change the ending of the story. But leaving him behind isn’t as simple as you thought. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, the narrative begins to shift in unexpected ways—Yoongi, who was once only devoted to the main female lead, starts to see you in a new light. Can you escape the cycle of heartbreak, or will you find yourself entangled in a love story you never asked for?

or in which Yoongi found out you aren't from that world and refuses to let you leave.

A/N: This is an unedited very very very raw draft! But I wanted to share this with you before I forget the ideas and before my flight today <33 let me know what you think! ALSO I WILL EDIT THIS WHEN I GET BACK NEXT WEEK AND I WILL POST IT IN TUMBLR. okay bye ily

It was your second week in Paris when curiosity finally got the better of you. Her phone—your phone now—sat untouched on the marble nightstand of your hotel suite. You’d avoided it so far, reasoning that it felt like rifling through a stranger’s diary. But tonight, as the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower illuminated the room, you gave in.

Plugging it in, the device vibrated to life, and a flood of notifications lit up the screen. Your jaw dropped slightly as you skimmed through the endless stream of missed calls and messages. Most of them were from Yoongi.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through the list. There were texts, voicemails, and even some emails from him, all timestamped over the last two weeks.

His messages started casual enough, asking you where you were and if you were still avoiding him. He even stopped by the mansion only to find out that you weren’t there, let alone in the country. Not one in your mansion could tell him where you were despite his endless threats. As days passed by, however, his tone shifted to frustration.

I’m not kidding anymore. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to find you.

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

I do hope you remember that it is my birthday today. We always celebrate it together. We’re not gonna stop now just because you’re hiding from me.

You stared at the phone for a moment longer, the screen dark now but somehow still demanding your attention. Should you respond? What would you even say?

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with his name. Your stomach did a little flip, but you shook your head firmly. No. You weren’t going to answer. It was better this way—for him, for you, for the storyline. Yoongi belonged with the female lead, and the longer you stayed out of their orbit, the better.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket, ready to explore the city some more. Paris was too beautiful to waste time fretting over a fictional man’s messages. Let Yoongi wait.

But just as you opened your hotel room, there he was with his signature stoic face, his dark brow raised. He pointedly looked at your phone, his name on the screen. He had his phone on his ear, while you had yours in your hand. You were literally caught red-handed ignoring his calls.

He ended the call with a deliberate tap and tucked his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked at his sudden appearance. He was supposed to be with her. The story said that he was supposed to be with her, celebrating with her, saving her from any other accidents or situations she found herself in.

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” His tone was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. He stepped inside as though he owned the place. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t wait for an invitation. He was just… there, filling the room with his presence like he always did. “And Paris, of all places? You’re more predictable than you think, princess.”

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

Full story (unedited) in KoFi

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 10

Hello :)

Once again sorry for the delay, but here is the next chapter for Mockingjay!

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Death or mention of death, blood, injury, suggestive, fight

Chapter before

After their mutual declaration and several (a lot of) kisses exchanged, Lucy finally falls asleep, exhausted by her fight and her injuries. Ona didn’t ask Lucy what happened exactly during the fight, she keeps her questions for later.

Ona was awake all night, looking at Lucy. Just in case she wakes up with pain or something bad happens. But Lucy’s sleep seems peaceful, she only winces from time to time, while changing position. We must say that maybe the ground of a cave isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world.

Being in that position is strange for Ona, she’s not used to being the strong one. It’s usually Lucy who took care of her during their moments together, not the other way. She likes the idea of Lucy being at ease enough with her for it, but of course Ona hates the fact that Lucy is hurt.

They never heard the cannon, so Ona assumed that Tony must be alive somewhere. He doesn’t seem to have any allies, unless they’re all dead already. But the weapon he had was probably from a sponsor. Ona doesn’t know if she will receive more things after the attack she did against her compatriot.

But she stands her ground. Between Lucy and Tony, there she has not a single hesitation.

While Lucy sleeps, Ona lights the fire again and puts some wet tissues on Lucy’s forehead to ease her fever. It seems to work; Lucy’s forehead seems less hot with time.

Ona makes herself more arrows too, she used almost all of them during their fight with Tony. She wonders briefly where the man is, before deciding that she doesn’t care. He might be Joan’s friend; she still has to fight for herself. And the girl she’s in love with.

Talking about Lucy, the girls finally stir for good, but groan in pain while turning on her back. Her face is clenched and Ona hurries to come closer to her.

“Where are you hurt?” she asks softly, removing some hair from her face.

“My head”

“Your head? You didn’t say anything about your head yesterday!”

Ona tries to make Lucy move a little to see which part of her head is hurting. The latter tries to fight against Ona at first, but it was before seeing how determined Ona was. Lucy sighs softly, finally turning on her side.

“Lucy what the fuck”

Lucy doesn’t answer anything and it’s maybe better like this. Ona is mixed between worry and anger against Lucy. There is a wound here too, one that Ona didn’t clean yesterday because Lucy didn’t say anything.

“You couldn’t have done anything anyway” Lucy finally mumbles.

“I still could have cleaned it” Ona answer, her gaze burning.

Lucy chooses widely not to answer anything and crosses her arms when Ona starts to look at the injury. It seems less important than the one on her stomach, but still less superficial than the ones she has on her arms.

Ona cleans Lucy’s head, wondering how she missed the dry blood in Lucy’s hair, before making the girl roll on her back to clean the injury on her stomach.

“How did he manage to attack you by the way?”

Lucy raises her eyes on Ona’s face. The brunette isn’t looking at her, concentrating on her work in Lucy’s body. Lucy sighs softly before answering.

“He took me by surprise. I was looking for food when he jumped on me from behind. He hit me with his weapon. I didn’t hear him coming. He smashed me on my head and from then it was hard to fight back.”

Ona nods softly, wondering if the noises she heard while she was alone in the forest was actually Tony. She hasn’t mentioned it to Lucy until now.

“I think I heard footsteps when I was waiting for you. At that point I was thinking it was you, but when I turned around there was no one. I wonder if it was him.”

“Maybe” Lucy answers after several seconds of thinking. “If it’s him, it means that he chose not to kill you.”

“Yeah…” Ona says slowly. “Or that I could have save you earlier”

Ona was finished with Lucy’s tape since several minutes, so Lucy takes her by her arm to take her closer.

“Don’t reflect like this. You saved me. If you came earlier, maybe you wouldn’t have been able to shoot him like you did. Great aim, by the way.”

Ona rolls her eyes and smiles, snuggling against Lucy as much as she can while being careful not to hurt her more. She smiles when she feels Lucy sighing from well-being, softly kissing her jaw.

“All of those trainings’ session are finally paying off. Looks like training his force wasn’t as useful as he thought.”

“Looks like listening to your mentor was a great idea” Lucy teases.

“It was. It’s because of her advice that I’m still alive”

“I’m glad Alexia Putellas is a genius then.”

Ona hums, stroking Lucy’s neck with her nose. She doesn’t know how much time they will have for themselves, she’s decided to enjoy it as much as she can. She loves Lucy’s scent and how hot and soft her skin is here.

“You know that he’s in love with you right? Tony?”

“I don’t care” Ona answers, kissing Lucy’s neck between her two sentences. “I’m in love with someone else.”

Lucy smiles at this, grabbing softly Ona’s chin between one of her hands.

“Look at you, you little flirt” she says with a smile, before taking Ona’s face against her to kiss her.

Ona smiles against Lucy’s lips, deepening the kiss quickly. Lucy lets her access to her mouth and Ona kind of forgets where they are. All she can think of is Lucy, Lucy’s hand, Lucy’s skin against her, Lucy’s touch. She still remembers not to hurt her, but when Lucy gently tilts them so that Ona is on her back, Ona can’t help but break the kiss.

“Your stomach…” Ona begins.

But Lucy smiles again, putting a finger on her lips.

“I’m fine” she whispers.

She looks in Ona’s eyes again before leaning in for another kiss. After two seconds of hesitation, Ona kisses her back, passing her arms around her neck. Ona is pretty sure that she could kiss Lucy all day long without being used to it. Or tired.

She shivers when Lucy’s fingers slide under the tissues of her clothes, stroking her skin with her fingertips. The sensations are even better than what she remembered or imagined, but when Lucy starts to suck her neck, she feels heat waves in her body and especially between her legs. Under the pleasure, Ona’s fingers (who were under Lucy’s clothes too) sink into the skin of Lucy’s back.

Lucy is very respectful about what Ona told her while still in the Capitol. Ona is sure that Lucy remembers that she never has been intimate with someone else like this. When Lucy is satisfied with her work on Ona’s neck, she kisses the skin lovingly here.

But Lucy seems to come back to reality for real when Ona tries to remove Lucy’s shirt.

“Ona, we don’t have to – “

“No. I want it”

Lucy hesitates for several seconds, looking deep in Ona’s eyes. But Ona only smiles at her, letting her hands run on her back and on her hips.

“I’m sure” she adds, seeing hesitation in Lucy’s eyes.

“Just… Tell me when you want to stop, please”

“I will.”

Ona wanted to answer that she won’t have to say it, because she was certain of what she wants. But she doesn’t have time, Lucy leaning another time for another kiss. Ona doesn’t wait any second to kiss Lucy back. She wants it, she’s sure about it. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that they might be dead in several hours, but there isn’t another person in the world she would do it with.

Ona’s clothes are suddenly too much on her skin, but Lucy’s hands manage to smooth her skin with their strokes.

There is no rush between them; they both take their time to discover each other and to remember each other at their fingertips.

And some time later, Ona is pretty sure that she never felt so blissful than now. When she looks up at Lucy who is holding her close against her body, she thinks that Lucy feels the same way.

Lucy feels Ona’s gaze on her because she looks at Ona back, offering her one of her perfect smiles.

“How are you?”

“Pretty great” Lucy smirks at Ona over the fire.

“I was talking about your head” Ona chuckles.

She’s still a little mad at Lucy for having kept that injury away from her. But Lucy shrugs, still adding another branch of wood into the fire. The night is here now, and they had to leave the cave for several hours during the day. It has been their refuge and Lucy is a little scared that the leaders of the Games will try to make them get out of it.

“Can I see it?”

“Will you take no as an answer?” Lucy arches an eyebrow.

“No” Ona smirks.

Lucy rolls her eyes but turns around to let Ona have a look. The younger girl doesn’t wait a second and kneels behind Lucy, gently looking at Lucy’s wound. She hums when she sees it. It doesn’t look very good, but it seems to heal as best as possible.

“It looks okay” Ona whispers. “Are you still in pain? Honestly.”

“It’s okay. Pounding sometimes but I will survive.”

Ona bites her bottom lip, preferring not to remember that they are in a Game fighting for their life. She stays silent and Lucy doesn’t seem to catch what she is thinking about. She starts to talk anyway, taking Ona’s mind away from there.

“We need a plan now. To know how to fight against the others.”

“What do you have in mind?” Ona asks, going to sit in front of the other girl.

“First, we have Camden and Kayla. Camden is hardly injured, but Kayla doesn’t have any injury as long as I’m aware. It would be a hard fight if we were crossing their path. The best thing would be to have them separated. They were near the starting point until now, but they might have changed now.”

Ona nods. It would make sense; Lucy is now with her, and she knows where they were staying. Plus, one of them is hurt and they would probably want to hide him as long as possible.

“Then we have Tony. You hurt him pretty badly.”

Ona nods once again. She doesn’t know if it’s pretty bad, but he wasn’t able to stand up for several minutes at least. It’s still something.

“How would you feel about fighting against him again?” Lucy asks. “I know he’s a friend of your brother but…”

“I’ll do it as many times as I need if it means you will be safe” Ona doesn’t hesitate to answer.

There is a moment of silence, during which they share a look. Ona is determined and very certain of what she just said. She would give her life for Lucy, so she doesn’t mind a single second fighting against her district’s partner.

Lucy, on the other hand, gives the impression to Ona that she’s looking for something special in her eyes. But Ona let her look, not having anything to hide from her. After a moment, Lucy finally talks again.

“And then the two girls. We don’t know if they are together, but we can guess they are.”

“Haven’t you seen them at one point?”

Lucy shakes her head to answer no.

“They might be hidden somewhere. They haven’t killed anyone for now.”

“Could they be in the desert? That’s what we wanted to do with Teagan, we were almost sure that no one will come for us there”

“Maybe…” Lucy answers slowly, looking by the entrance of the cave. “I know there is an oasis somewhere, if they found it it’s probably the safest place in the arena.”

“How do you know that?” Ona frowns.

“I went to it at the beginning”

Lucy shrugs and Ona frowns. Lucy asked her a lot of questions about her adventure until they met again, but Ona sometimes feels like she doesn’t want to talk about hers. Which is a little strange in Ona’s eyes.

Ona stands, pretending to be looking for something in their bags. She doesn’t like that feeling in the bottom of her stomach. And it has nothing to do with the kick she received during her fight.

“You never told me”

Lucy shrugs one more time before answering, still sitting on the ground.

“I went with Declan. We just wanted to see what was there.”

Ona hums only, her back turned to Lucy. The brunette catches easily that something is disturbing Ona, only by the other girl’s behavior. Ona usually never hides her eyes to her, or even her face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Lucy asks.

“Nothing.”

 But Lucy knows better. Rather than letting it go and talking about something else, she gets up to press her front against Ona’s back, passing her arms around Ona’s waist. Her chin is on Ona’s shoulder when she talks again.

“Ona, what’s wrong?”

Ona sighs softly. She knows she’s probably stupid about her reaction and she’s a little bit ashamed, to be honest. But Lucy is waiting patiently for her answer, and she finally opens her mouth again.

“It’s just… Sometimes I feel like you are hiding something from me. I don’t like it.”

She knows she’s right when Lucy bites her bottom lip before answering. Ona turns her head as good as she can given their position, looking for Lucy’s green eyes. When Lucy stays silent, Ona talks again, whispering this time.

“What happened?”

Lucy sighs at her turn, letting Ona go. The younger girl doesn’t like the way her body suddenly seems very cold without Lucy’s embrace. She squeezes her arms around her body, looking at Lucy.

“It’s just that I have to do some things. And I’m scared that if you know them it will change how you see me.”

Ona tilts her head, searching for Lucy’s eyes. Lucy seems so tense that it scared her. Suddenly she’s not a tribute at the Hunger Games, she’s just a girl waiting for the love of her life to admit what fault she did when they weren’t together.

“Like I told you, I had to do things and play a role at the beginning. I needed people to think that I just wanted to win and that we weren’t even friends you and me”

Ona nods, waiting more or less patiently about the end of Lucy’s confession.

“To show people that I was really into it, I had to kill. A lot of people. In fact, after killing Seth, I’m the one with the higher number of murders.”

“Oh…” Ona breaths.

She wasn’t expecting this to be honest. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, to be honest. But Lucy is still looking at her feet, not able to look up at Ona. So, the younger girl approaches her, kneeling a little bit to have their eyes at the same level.

“Lucy, it’s okay. You did it for us. You didn’t have the choice”

“I didn’t” she repeats. “If I had… I just needed to be with you again.”

“We are now”

“Yeah”

Ona smiles softly at Lucy, who smiles almost shyly back. She doesn’t like to be seen as weak or something, but the way Ona cups her face to kiss her makes her feel lighter than ever. She still doesn’t understand what she did to find a girl as sweet and kind as Ona.  

The morning after, they decided to sort out their things to know what to take with them in their backpack and what to leave in the cave. They let some food they know would be damaged in their bag during the day, for example. Ona is never leaving her hoodie under her jacket, loving the soft feeling against her skin.

They take their weapons of course, the medical kits and the most important things to survive.

“Okay, let’s go” Lucy says, looking at the fire behind them.

Ona is looking at the cave with a little pout. She feels like they won’t come back, and it makes her a little sad. It’s once again a memory of her history with Lucy where she probably won’t be able to come again.

Easily understanding what Ona is feeling, Lucy smiles softly and passes her arm around Ona’s shoulders.

“Come on, Love. It will be okay”

She kisses Ona temple before taking her to go down the mountain again. Ona let her do, blushing softly at Lucy’s surname. It’s the first time she calls her something like that. Of course, she loves it.

They decided to go to the desert, Ona hoping not to cross someone else’s path during this. Or at least someone they can kill easily. They walk silently, just in case. Ona asked Lucy if she saw the wolves too, but the older woman answered negatively. But it seems to her that one of the tributes died because of the wolves. The idea made Ona shivers.

Lucy is walking first; Ona really closes behind her. She has to fight against Lucy to prevent her not from carrying all the heavy things. Ona is really scared that Lucy’s stomach will start bleeding again. She changed Lucy’s bandage before leaving, putting the old one in the fire.

The walk is pretty long, it seems that there is only one bridge to cross the breach. And that it is far away from where they are.

“It’s weird that we haven’t crossed anyone’s path” Ona mumbles at some point.

“Yeah” Lucy answers. “I think they used the fog to make people come closer to each other, I wouldn’t be surprised if they do something similar soon.”

Ona hums. She doesn’t really like the idea. The last time she had time with Teagan to leave, but it wasn’t the case for Lilith. Her death might have been harsh If Ona remembered correctly the screams of pain that she lets go before dying.

When they finally reach the bridge, Ona takes a last look behind her before crossing it, still behind Lucy. As soon as they arrive on the other side, the heath strikes them hard.

“What the fuck” Ona says, instinctively tying her hair.

Lucy smiles when she hears and sees Ona. Then she looks around, trying to remember where she went with Tony.

“I’m pretty sure the Oasis isn’t that way” she says, pointing somewhere right in front of them. “That’s where we went with Declan. Maybe we should go there?”

Ona nods, not having anything to say. She never came here before. The heath and the sand everywhere are very impressive, to be honest. But if they find the oasis, they could have something very interesting to have.

Still walking, Ona looks at Lucy’s neck and the drop of sweat running slowly on her skin. The sun is still high in the sky, which is a good thing because it means they still have a lot of time before the night. But they are still very hot because of the sun too.

“Are you okay?” Ona asks Lucy for the thousand times since they left.

“I am” Lucy answers patiently. “What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

They walk for some time more, seeing nothing around them other than sand and blue sky, until…

“This is the end of the arena”

Ona raises her head to look where Lucy is pointing. She doesn’t see anything at first, until she finally sees something looking like mini light blue lightning running in front of her eyes.

“We turn around?” Ona proposes.

Lucy bites her lips, thinking for several seconds before answering.

“I don’t know. If we do that, we will lose time and maybe we won’t find the oasis. But at least we know where we are exactly.”

“We were coming from the east to west. We just had to look at the sun to know where to go back” Ona shrugs.

There is a moment of silence, Lucy looking at Ona blankly for some long seconds, before answering.

“You know how to find your way with the sky?”

Lucy’s amazement is easily audible in her voice when she asks that question. But Ona just shrugs before smirking.

“I thought you would be able to do it too, aren’t you the one coming from the best fisherman’s family of Panem?”

Lucy rolls her eyes and smiles.

“I have nothing from the Bronze. And we have a compass and that kind of thing.”

They are walking next to each other now, softly bumping into each other from time to time while talking. There is nothing around them and they would easily see if someone else was here.

But they have to admit at some point that finding the oasis is harder than they thought. The sun is now hiding behind the horizon, gradually plunging them into the night.

“Do you want to take the torch?” Lucy asks Ona.

“I don’t know. Is this not going to draw attention to us?”

Ona looks at Lucy for several seconds before answering, not wanting to scare the girl.

“Are there not scorpions that come out of the sand at night?”

Lucy froze and looks at Ona, her eyebrows softly frowned. It’s something they learned during the survival courses, but to be honest, Lucy completely forgot about it.

“You are right…” Lucy answers slowly, before opening her eyes wide. “Wait, what is on your arm?”

Frowning at turn, Ona looks at her arm. A scorpion. There is a scorpion on her arm.

Next chapter (Coming soon...)

[misahyochaeng]

Webcam Honey >.< !!

(Sana x Fem! Reader) 🔞

tw: cam!girl reader, dom!sana, sub!reader, established relationship, humiliation, LOTS of dirty talk, fingering, degrading, cunnilingus, edging, vibrator, overstimulation, praise, strapon. (NOT PROOFREAD!!)

summary: You and your girlfriend have a ritual of going on a fancy date once a month due to both of you guys normally having busy schedules. But today, you got kind of caught up…

—

The lights were slightly dimmed to set the mood, body glistening with sweat as you went to work on your pussy, knuckles and palm covered with a thick coating of pussy slick that dripped down by small drops onto your mattress; you stared at the camera infront of you, donations flooding by on your second monitor with messages from old men and virgin perverts with no life praising how sexy you looked and telling you how they wanted to touch you.

Being honest, it was gross, but it worked out, knowing you could pleasure yourself almost daily just to earn a solid hundred-bucks, you began doing it as a profession.

You cupped your clothed tit, a lacy pair of red lingerie barely covering up your chest as you pinched and toyed with your erect nipple, holding eye contact with the camera as you put on rather exaggerated faces in pleasure.

That was until you heard your front door open and footsteps getting closer, “Baby, i just got back from my cousin’s!” she exclaimed before she opened the door with a smile “Just gotta put on some fancy clothes before we…” She took in the sight, cameras propped up as you toyed with your pussy, now muted, obviously. “head out…”

She sighed, playing off a small hue of pink on her cheeks, trying to maintain her composure, “Interesting.. I thought you said you don’t stream on our date nights..” she sulked a bit. “F-Fuck babe—, It’s tonight?..” you furrowed your brows as you stared at her, lowering the camera angle to your lower body so they wouldn’t see you talking to your lover. “Yes, honey, it’s tonight that we have our monthly date.” she eyed you up and down, jaw clenching a bit in annoyance as she realized you forgot something so meaningful to her.

“I’m sorry my love, i forgot.” You put on a pout as you put your movements to a halt, realizing the situation becoming serious. “You forgot it was our date night?” she interrupted, “I’m sorry, baby, please i’ll make it up to you.”

Sana scoffed “Uhuh.” She bit the inside of her cheek in annoyance, narrowing her eyes are she stared you down. “Are you mad at me?..” you frowned, a wave of guilt rushing your body, not even daring to look her way from how shameful you felt, toying your pussy rather than getting ready for your date.

“Can they hear me?” Sana pointed at the mic you had placed near you “Wait, Sha.. don’t—“ she tapped the unmute button. “Hey stream!” She adjusted the camera back onto you both as she smiled rather enthusiastically, completely different to how she was acting when she was away from the camera. “What are you doing” you asked concerned as you tried to adjust yourself, trying to stop Sana.

“What do you mean what am i doing, just saying hi..” She smiled softly, eyes beady as she stared at the camera, a small wink thrown onto the lense as she giggled, “Y’know… my girlfriend must REALLY love her little fans, since she completely forgot about our date tonight and instead wants to play with herself infront of you guys!” she retorted inbetween gritted teeth, looking directly at you through the camera. “You must feel sooo special, don’t you?” she clenched her jaw even harder, knuckles growing with from her tight fist.

“Love, please I forgot, it was just a mistake.” You caressed her arm, squeezing it a bit to reassure her, Sana glared at you “Let’s make this little ‘mistake�� never happen again, alright?” she used air quotes as she crossed her arms, the chat flooding with questions and multiple arguments, if it were up to you, you’d end the stream and delete the account by now, thought your girlfriend had other things in mind.

“Plus.. even if you make mistakes the first time, you still need lessons, right?” You twitched, hand extending to finally end the life, she pulled you down by your wrist “Don’t end the stream, baby, the show must go on, no?” You whined. “Go ahead, keep playing with yourself.” Sana sat next to you now, legs and arms crossed as she stared at your soaking wet cunt, eyes darkening with lust.

“Baby please, i’m shy..” You closed up your legs, redness trailing down to your collarbones as you began shielding your body off. “Oh you’re shy now? Is it because i’m here watching you play with that dirty pussy?” her voice turned husky as she leaned closer, whispering in your ear

You felt the heat inbetween your legs grow as you squirmed at her hot breath against your ear. “Guess i’ll help you, princess.” she ran her fingers up and down your slit ever-so slowly, her gaze fixed on your center like a predator waiting to feast on its meek prey. “Aww, look how wet your pussy is.” she teased, voice laced with pity and she showed you off to all the people watching. “Poor chat, you can look, but you can’t touch. This is all mine.”

She bit down on your neck, leaving kisses and purple bruises right where your ear and jaw connect, every touch from her sending a shiver down your spine. “But you sick fucks probably get turned on by this, no?” she eyed the camera as she began to rub your clit, mouth still hungrily latched on to your neck.

She stuck her fingers in, your body jolting forward as you moaned loudly for her, your wet pussy sucking up her fingers easily, “Gosh, baby, that moan was so hot.” she pumped her fingers at a steady pace, “Same as the sound of how wet you are for me.” Sana wrapped her hand around your neck and pulled you into a kiss.

“Just love going in and out of this pretty cunt..” she bit your bottom lip before going back to your jaw, she eyed your main monitor for a sec, the number of views growing up to almost more than four digits “Well look at that, the viewer count really grew.. maybe if i have a hundred more people on, i’ll use a vibrator on her, hm?” Your eyes widen as you were about to protest, but was quickly cut off by her fingers curling deep inside you, your pussy clenching against them.

“Don’t complain, baby, i know your pussy gets so wet when you get fucked infront of a bunch of people.. especially when we did it in that balcony, got so noisy for me, i bet everyone knew how good i was making you feel.” She pumped her fingers hard as she smirked, your noises growing with each and every ministration.

“You just like getting treated like a fuck-doll, don’t you?” you nodded profusely, Sana letting out a cocky chuckle as she began to talk to the camera again. “Can you hear those slutty moans, and she goes even crazier when i use my tongue like this..”She leaned down and latched onto your puffy clit, you squeezed her head with your thighs as you pushed her deeper; though she was quick to pull apart.

“Fuck—no, baby please..” you whined loudly before grabbing her by the wrist towards your cunt. “Aww, you want me to eat you out, baby? After forgetting our planned date? You selfish fucking whore.” She pumped her fingers even harder, curling deeper than before.

“Beg, beg me to eat that wet pussy.” she spit on your cunt before dipping her fingers in again. “Gosh—Fuck, Baby please.. PleASE..” she slapped your cunt, “Come on, you can do louder than that.” and so you did, practically screaming and begging with no shame for her to eat your cunt. “That’s my girl”

She wasted no time and dipped into your center, vile groans and moans leaving her mouth as she slurped and licked, her noises vibrating against your cunt as your thick pussy slick coated down her chin; her defined nose rubbing your clit from time to time, giving you even more stimulation.

She sucked like her life depended on it, like someone who hasn’t eaten for days, enjoying their final meal, your taste drove her insane and she couldn’t have enough. You tangled your fingers in her brunette hair as you threw your head back in pleasure, she smirked against your pussy at every reaction you gave her, spitting on your cunt again before dipping back in; you felt the knot forming in your stomach.

“You gonna cum, baby” Sana looked up at you, locking eyes as she bobbed her head on your cunt, paying attention to inside your pussy and your puffy clit. You nodded desperately as you pushed her head further, with a harsh smack of her lips, she pulled apart—“No.”

“Baby, please—“ she shut you up with a kiss, “Not yet, love, we made it to a thousand more views, i promised id use the vibrator on you. Now lay down slut.” You were about to protest but hesitated, doing as she asked, she put a vibrator wand right on your clit, turning it on the medium setting.

You gripped the bedsheets, legs shaky as you moaned non-stop, Sana giggled, “So fucking pathetic, just moaning away.” your lip quivered as you shut your eyes, knowing that you weren’t gonna hold the urge to cum any longer; one of your hands went to hold onto Sana’s arm, which was moving around—going up and down with the toy on your puffy pussy..

“Look at her just squirming around and holding onto my arm so helplessly..” she bit her lip as the talked to the viewers, she was holding back—a lot—she wanted to fuck you then and there, to make you feel good. She good practically cum just by the sound of your moans, but she knew you had to learn your lesson.

She leaned in to whisper in your ear. “When i’m done with you, you’ll be a filthy cumming mess.” she nibbled on your earlobe before landing a tender peck on your jaw. You felt the knot forming again, and you knew you couldn’t hold it “Babe—Close, please I—“ She interrupted “Shhh…you can take it” you protested—“Please!”— Her voice turned stricter this time—“Baby i know you can take it.”

You tried pushing her hand away, you knew the stimulation was too much and you’d cum without her permission. Sana landed a harsh slap on your pussy, “Stop fucking moving.” she bit back in annoyance, you put your head down in shame. “If you can take forgetting our date you can take this, bitch. Move my hand away again and i’m turning it up.” She pulled you harshly by your jaw so you’d look at her, you stared with lidded eyes, too fucked senseless to even think properly, you nodded.

You screamed as you pushed her hand away again, quick to regret it, “You’re just fucking asking for it, aren’t you?” she turned up the setting to the maximum, pressing down on your pussy.

Tears pricked at your eyes as you begged her to stop, voice cracking and body shaking while your breath hitched. “Sana, please—Fucks sake!” Sana put on a fake pout as she pressed it down more, a scream coming out of your lips that even the neighbors could hear, “Aww you wanna cum? Say ‘please Sana can i cum?’”.

“Pl—ease.. Sana— fuck.. can I cUM!” Sana pressed a gentle kiss to your lips “Cum for me, my love.”

And with those simple words, you quickly came undone for her, vision turning blurry as you arched your back, body spasming, knuckles turning white from how hard you gripped the sheets, collapsing on the mattress. “Good girl, baby..” she teased as she landed a peck on your cheek, the vibrator on max setting still on your clit. “Baby, please.. I can’t take it anymore.” tears ran down your eyes as you stammered with your words, “I’m not done with you yet baby, you’ve been doing such a good job.” the vibrator was collected with slick, the mattress sheets stained as your inner thighs glowed under the light.

“You’re so pretty when your eyes roll back like that, love” she stick her tongue on and lick that one sensitive spot on your neck. “I know you love being tortured like this, whore.”

Tears ran down your cheeks, “Aw, you’re tearing up? It’s okay baby, one more minute.” She payed attention to your neck again, going down to your collarbones to nibble and leave marks at them too.

She turned it off.

“Bend over, baby.” she reached for the strap harness, a purple dildo attached to it. “Face the camera, i want everyone to see the faces you do when i make you feel this good.” you obeyed, though protesting a bit at facing the camera. She lined her tip in, sliding it up and down to lube it up with your wetness. “Aww look how—“ she whined as she stuck it in “pretty you are.. fuck..” she began moving her hips slowly “Gosh it’s already soaking wet..” the room felt hot as she groaned and moved her hips, skin slapping echoing the room.

“Mmm…Baby your moans are so pretty..” she put her hands on your hips, toying and squeezing the skin there. “Come on, tell the stream how much of a slut you are, begging to be used.” you stammered, trying to speak but you felt good—too fucking good. “Come on..speak up, baby.”

“I’m— hnghh.. i’m sorry, please.” Sana put on a sarcastic facade as she faked gasped “Oh you’re sorry huh? You’re sorry?” You nodded. “Well let’s see how sorry you are now, bitch” She began thrusting at a rough pace, your mouth falling open as your tits swinged forward and backward at every thrust. Sana looked at the viewer count again, “Damn, basically everyone is here.. just watching your pretty pussy get fucked.” you screamed her name.

“Hmm? Does that turn you on, huh? Having everyone watching all the lewd faces and slutty noises from my strap, hm?” you nodded as your hand rose to cover your mouth, a cracking noise was heard as a stinging pain rose to your ass, Sana landed a harsh slap on it.

“Move your fucking hand.” She stopped her thrusts to warn you before going back to fucking you hard and good again. “You’re lucky i don’t have my handcuff and gag, bitch. I want you creaming all over this strap.” She angled herself deeper, your pussy squelching echoing the room, “Such a nasty bitch.”

She grabbed you by the shoulder and lifted you up a bit, hips still going to work, “Come here baby.” she pressed her lips onto yours, humming in delight as your saliva exchanged, knowing you were tasting yourself on your lips right now. “Good slut, now admit to the chat that you love getting fucked infront of people.”

“I-I loved getting fucking infront of people..” you said inbetween moans “Yeah? you liked getting ruined infront of everyone, Y/N?” she angled it deeper than before, hand going down to rub your clit in figure eights. “Fuck—Yes, mommy.”

Sana’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, “Fuck, you know how much it turns me on when you call me mommy.” She gripped onto your tits for support as she fucked you even harder, guttural groans escaping her lips as she fucked you at an animalistic pace, the mattress creaking and shaking harshly.

Sana moaned as the strap rubbed her clothed clit, “You gonna cum, baby? Cum for me. Fucking cum for me.” She stuck her fingers in your mouth as she helped you ride her high, back arching as you seized and twitched on her, Sana wrapping you in a warm embrace as you laid groggily on the bed, fucked stupid.

Sana stood up and reached for the camera, “Well this was just a one time thing.. I need to uhm..” she stared at you for a moment, drool dripping on the corner of your lips as you laid there, eyes closed “take care of this lady…”

She fumbled with the controls.

“How do you turn off this thi—“

[meracyn]

Kwon x reader who is a daredevil? Plz and thx 🙏

BET || kwon jae-sung

a/n: anon sent another ask and mentioned they want a female reader for this, sorry for all the dudes out there reading this + also gave the plot lol, a bit suggestive too btw (less than the other) so here we go chat

After managing to be one of the top 3 dojos on the board at the Sekai Taikai tournament, your teammates in Cobra Kai decided to celebrate at a bar.

You, of course, accepted without hesitation.

“Really? You aren’t tired?” Kwon asked, slightly amused.

“Darling, those matches I had today were barely even warm-ups. Besides, if it’s a bar? It will be tons of fun–I can’t miss it.” You answered with a mischievous grin.

Kwon chuckled, “Right. You always make things entertaining.. that’s what I love about you.”

“I know.”

· · ·

The lights flickered with vibrant colors as the music blasted away once you entered the bar— but you weren’t interested in the lights or the rhythm of the music playing. You looked around the place, noticing how the Miyagi-Do members were there as well.

Perfect.

You were going to make the best out of tonight.

What started as a simple celebration quickly turned into competition. A challenge was given, of who could hold their liquor the longest.

After several rounds, it was finally your turn. Your opponent? Samantha LaRusso from Miyagi-Do. You stood across from her, noticing how her eyes were bright with determination— even the way she spoke, you could tell she was sure about winning.

But did it stop you? No way.

“Ready to lose?” Sam asked, forcing a smile as she was given a glass, you could tell she was trying to hold back from saying a remark.

You smiled back, nodding slowly. “It’s okay to hallucinate. There’s treatment for it now.”

Your teammates, along with members from other dojos laughed out loud, but you paid no attention to it. You stared at her face, noticing how she was slightly hesitant, but tried to cover it up.

Sam was too predictable.

You raised your glass and downed the first shot with ease. The tingly sensation burning your throat, but didn’t affect you much otherwise.

The next few shots were poured, the sounds of the bottle clinking with glass. The tension was rising, neither of you backing down just yet.

Sam kept going. She was determined to knock your dojo out of their ego by winning. Knocking her glass back, Sam signaled at her readiness.

Another round. You both exchanged a nod. As you looked over your shoulder, you noticed no one was pouring into either of your glasses.

“Hey!” You called out. “Bring us another one of those whatchamacallits”

“What the hell..”

You swallowed the drink with little effort, keeping an eye on Sam. Every time she took a shot, you saw how her breathing changed. It was subtle—but still there. She was hesitating more by the second.

The crowd was becoming louder, and soon, your dojo began to chant out your name, amplifying your confidence as you felt a rush of adrenaline by their support. Sam was starting to slow down—her movements, to each shot taking a little longer to consume.

“Getting tipsy already, Sam? Too bad.” You said, feigning concern.

You could hear Sam’s breath hitch, ignoring your comment as she drank from her glass. You grinned, sensing her struggle. It was clear now — she wasn’t going to last much longer.

Taking the last shot without hesitation and savoring the lingering after taste, you watched as Sam swayed slightly before stumbling back, falling to the ground. Her body was no longer able to handle the alcohol. The room erupted into cheers and laughter at the loss of Miyagi-Do’s captain.

Devon quickly rushed over, placing an arm over her shoulders as Miguel held onto Sam’s side.

“Well, well..what does it feel like to see that your captain lost?” Kwon spoke up, walking up to you from behind as he placed a hand on your waist.

Miguel clenched his fist as he was about to retort, before Devon stopped him. “Don’t. We need to get Sam back to her room.” She said, looking away.

The rest of the Miyagi-Do members left the bar without saying anything else, leaving your team and the others to celebrate your victory.

“Since you won,” Kwon started, tucking your hair behind your ear, “Do you want your reward?” He whispered, a hand pressed on the zipper of your dress.

“Of course. I’m up for more fun after all.” Taking his hand in yours, you walked out of the bar.

[viiioca]

[ roevember day 7 - crowd ]

From the journal of Estelle de Laussienne, 12th of the 5th Umbral Moon, 5 7A.E.

I must respect the audacity, if nothing else. Such a clever stunt he's pulled! Who could have anticipated that Elidibus -- a man of quiet presence and subtle works -- would stride so brazenly into the center of town after riding Ardbert's body about Lakeland as if it were a prized racebird? Not I. And oh, the crowdwork! A lovely little flourish. We are caught on the back foot between two unappealing options: we deny him, opening the way for the world to be convinced that their saviors are in fact liars, and turn on us as quickly as they had turned on the Warriors of Light all those decades ago; or we stay true to our course and open the way for his power base to grow with no great effort on his part. We are pinned to the board like a butterfly specimen by our pretty ideals.

But such has always been Elidibus's way. If Emet-Selch believed in the fundamental ugliness of man and leveraged it to build empires of breathtaking cruelty, Elidibus has always exploited the goodness in man, appealing to a higher calling and better nature. When he approached the Scions, it was with an olive branch extended. Thordan, too, received of his advice -- do you not want to protect your people? -- and fell right into Elidibus's game, for all that he thought he had the upper hand. So it was with Ardbert as well: salvation in one hand and an appeal against evil in the other. He has always worked his schemes through heroes and iconoclasts. But what of this newfound assertiveness? This is not an offensive born of confidence, deployed by a man who still has patience and time in abundance. This is a cornered animal baring its teeth.

The Great Work rests with him and him alone now. It's the sort of burden that could crush a man. The sort that could kill him, if he isn't careful. Does desperation not make beasts of us all?

[jmkjournalblog]

Sweet thing (Part 1)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2000+

Summary:  A new mysterious girl appears in the Westview, capturing Agatha's attention.

A/n: I couldn't forget this plot that came to me after watching AAA so, here we go. Btw English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Agatha Harkness leaned against her kitchen counter, nursing a cup of coffee as the morning sun painted the room in soft, golden hues. The house was quiet, save for the faint buzz of magic beneath her skin. It was always there now, a faint hum that had taken root since Wanda’s Hex wrapped itself around the town of Westview.

Agatha didn’t mind the quiet—she thrived in it. It gave her time to think, to observe, and, most importantly, to plan. The game Wanda was playing fascinated her, the raw chaos magic that maintained this picture-perfect suburban paradise a symphony only she seemed to hear. But Agatha wasn’t content to be a spectator.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at the door, sharp and deliberate. Agatha frowned, setting down her mug. Few people in Westview came calling without reason. The nosy neighbors usually knocked too loudly, their voices pitched with exaggerated cheer. This knock was… tentative.

Agatha adjusted her cardigan and opened the door, her curiosity immediately piqued by the girl standing on her porch.

She was young, with an almost ethereal quality to her—a soft, doll-like beauty wrapped in a modest sundress and wide-brimmed hat. Her hands were clasped in front of her, clutching a basket of baked goods, and she looked up at Agatha with a shy, hesitant smile.

“Hi,” the girl said, her voice light and airy. “I’m Y/N. Wanda mentioned I should… introduce myself?”

Wanda. Of course.

Agatha smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, aren’t you the polite one?” she said, stepping aside to let the girl in. “Come on in, sweetie. Don’t just stand there looking like a lost kitten.”

Y/N giggled softly, the sound almost musical, and stepped inside. She looked around the living room with wide eyes, as though taking in every detail with nervous curiosity. Agatha followed her gaze, watching the way her fingers brushed the edge of a throw pillow, the faint catch in her breath as she noticed the clutter of books and trinkets on the coffee table.

“You’re new in town?” Agatha asked, her voice casual as she gestured for Y/N to sit.

Y/N perched on the edge of the couch, smoothing her dress over her knees. “Oh, yes,” she said quickly. “Very new. Wanda’s been so kind—helping me settle in, introducing me to everyone…”

Her voice trailed off, and she ducked her head, as if embarrassed by her own rambling. Agatha studied her, intrigued by the girl’s bashful demeanor. Wanda had mentioned her in passing—a "sweet little thing who could use a friend." But there was something about Y/N that didn’t quite fit the mold of Wanda’s usual creations.

“Wanda’s good at that,” Agatha said, her tone light. “She loves playing the perfect hostess. But don’t let her fool you—she’s got a bit of a wild side, that one.”

Y/N giggled again, her cheeks turning pink. “I don’t think I’ve seen that side of her yet.”

“Oh, stick around, honey. You will.”

Agatha leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she observed the girl with casual interest. There was something almost too perfect about Y/N—the way her smile wavered just enough to seem genuine, the slight tremor in her hands as she picked up the cup of tea Agatha had poured.

“So, what brings you to Westview?” Agatha asked, keeping her tone light.

Y/N hesitated, her gaze dropping to the cup in her hands. “I guess… I wanted a fresh start,” she said softly. “Somewhere quiet, where I could figure things out.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “And you picked Westview? Not exactly the first place people think of when they’re looking for a fresh start.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a shy smile. “Wanda said it was… special. And it is. It feels… safe here.”

Safe. Agatha’s smirk widened, though she quickly hid it behind her cup. If only the girl knew the half of it.

“Well, you’re certainly in good hands with Wanda,” Agatha said, her voice warm and reassuring. “And the neighbors will eat you up. They love a sweet, innocent new face.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced up, her eyes meeting Agatha’s for the briefest moment before darting away again.

The girl’s shyness was endearing, almost painfully so. But Agatha had spent centuries honing her instincts, and something about Y/N didn’t quite add up. She didn’t press, though. Not yet.

Instead, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she gave Y/N a conspiratorial smile. “Wanda matchmaking again, huh?”

Y/N’s blush deepened, and she shook her head quickly. “Oh, no! It’s not like that. She just thought I could… learn a thing or two from you.”

Agatha chuckled, her sharp eyes gleaming with amusement. “Is that so? Well, I suppose I can be quite the teacher when I want to be.”

Y/N’s laugh was soft, nervous, and she ducked her head again, hiding her face behind the rim of her teacup. Agatha watched her for a moment longer, the faintest prickle of curiosity tugging at her thoughts.

Whatever Y/N’s story was, it wasn’t as simple as she made it seem. But Agatha could wait.

“Welcome to Westview, sweetheart,” she said finally, her tone warm but laced with subtle intent. “Something tells me you’re going to fit in just fine.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes glinting with a fleeting emotion Agatha couldn’t quite place. For now, the girl was an enigma—a puzzle wrapped in sweetness and blushes. But Agatha would figure her out.

Agatha Harkness prided herself on reading people like open books, but Y/N was proving to be an unexpectedly complex chapter. The girl had a way of weaving herself seamlessly into Wanda’s narrative, her every action a perfect blend of naivety and charm. The neighbors adored her, each interaction reinforcing her role as the sweet newcomer.

Agatha wasn’t fooled, not entirely. There was something there, lurking beneath Y/N’s soft demeanor. Something that kept her watching.

The afternoon sun bathed Wanda’s backyard in golden light as she bustled about, her hands full of gardening tools. The scent of freshly clipped grass mingled with the sweet aroma of cookies baking in the oven. Agatha leaned against the fence, watching as Y/N knelt beside Wanda, carefully arranging a row of daisies in the freshly turned soil.

"You’re a natural at this!" Wanda exclaimed, her bright smile aimed at Y/N.

Y/N laughed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Oh, I don’t know about that," she said, her cheeks tinged with pink. "I’m just following your lead."

Agatha arched an eyebrow, sipping from the thermos of tea she’d brought over. The girl’s humility was textbook charming, her every move designed to blend in perfectly with Wanda’s carefully constructed suburban dream.

But there was more to it. Agatha could feel the faintest ripple in the Hex whenever Y/N was near. It wasn’t enough to break Wanda’s illusion, but it was there—a subtle distortion, like a melody slightly out of tune.

"Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N," Agatha called, her voice light and teasing. "You’ve got a knack for fitting right in, don’t you?"

Y/N looked up, her smile shy as she wiped her hands on her apron. "I just want to do my part," she said.

Wanda beamed at her, clearly pleased. "You’re more than doing your part," she said, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. "You’re already a part of this little family."

Agatha’s smirk softened, though her thoughts remained sharp. Wanda’s maternal instincts were in full swing, and Y/N seemed to thrive under her attention. But was it genuine, or was the girl playing her own game?

Later that evening, Agatha found herself on her front porch, nursing a glass of wine as the stars blinked into view. The hum of the Hex was quieter here, its magic settling into a steady rhythm as the town went to sleep.

She was about to head inside when she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps. Y/N emerged from the shadows, her arms wrapped around herself as if warding off the chill.

"Agnes?" she called softly, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Agatha straightened, her brows lifting in surprise. "Y/N? What are you doing out here so late?"

Y/N hesitated at the foot of the porch steps, her green eyes wide and uncertain. "I… I didn’t want to bother Wanda," she said. "I just… I couldn’t sleep."

Agatha gestured for her to come closer, her curiosity piqued. "Well, come on up, then. No sense standing out there in the cold."

Y/N climbed the steps, her movements careful and deliberate. She perched on the edge of the porch swing, her fingers twisting in her lap.

"Trouble on your mind, sweetie?" Agatha asked, her tone casual as she leaned back in her chair.

Y/N shrugged, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I don’t know. I guess… it’s just a lot, you know? Starting over, trying to fit in…"

Her voice was soft, almost fragile, and Agatha felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite name. She studied the girl in the dim light, the faint shadows under her eyes, the tension in her shoulders.

"Fitting in isn’t all it’s cracked up to be," Agatha said finally, her voice tinged with dry humor. "Trust me, I’ve been trying for centuries."

Y/N looked up at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You make it look easy."

Agatha chuckled, swirling her wine. "Oh, honey, if only you knew."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the quiet night wrapping around them like a blanket. Agatha found herself relaxing, the usual edge of her thoughts softening as she watched Y/N.

The girl was good—she had to admit that. Whatever she was hiding, she played the innocent act perfectly. But Agatha wasn’t about to let her guard down. Not yet.

"So," Agatha said, breaking the silence. "What are you really running from, Y/N?"

Y/N blinked, her expression startled. "What do you mean?"

Agatha smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, come on, sweetie. Nobody ends up in a place like Westview without a reason. Fresh start, sure, but fresh starts usually mean there’s something you’re leaving behind."

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tightening in her lap. For a moment, Agatha thought she might deflect, but then the girl sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"I guess… I’ve always been looking for somewhere I belong," she said quietly. "Somewhere I can just… be."

Her voice was so earnest, so raw, that for a moment, Agatha believed her. But there was a flicker of something in Y/N’s eyes—a shadow, fleeting and elusive—that reminded Agatha to stay sharp.

"Well," Agatha said finally, her tone softening. "You’ve got a knack for making people like you. That’s half the battle right there."

Y/N smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha watched her for a moment longer, her thoughts swirling. The girl was a mystery, no doubt about it. But if there was one thing Agatha loved, it was solving puzzles.

"Goodnight, Y/N," she said, standing and draining the last of her wine.

"Goodnight, Agnes," Y/N replied, her smile shy as she rose to leave.

As Agatha watched her disappear into the night, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was standing on the edge of something big. Something dangerous.

[changbeansss]

Pocket worm pact

Pairings : Seo Changbin x reader

Genre : Fluff

Warnings : None

You and Changbin were sprawled on the couch, the remnants of your latest binge-watch session scattered across the coffee table. The soft glow of the TV flickered in the dim light, but it didn’t really matter; your attention was entirely focused on the boy curled up beside you. His head was resting against your shoulder, and his arms were wrapped snugly around your waist. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, a comforting presence that made you feel safe and cherished.

“Binnie,” you said, breaking the peaceful silence. He tilted his head up to meet your gaze, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Yes, bunny?” His voice was soft, like a gentle whisper, and it made your heart flutter.

You couldn’t help but grin. You loved how he always made time to give you pet names, even when he was half-asleep. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

He blinked, taken aback, his brow furrowing in confusion. “A worm?” He chuckled lightly, the sound bubbling up like a giggle. “Why would you be a worm?”

“Just imagine it! If I turned into a squiggly little worm, would you still love me?” You prodded, your laughter mixing with his.

Changbin sat up, pretending to ponder your question seriously, stroking his chin as if he were a wise philosopher. “Hmm… well, I guess I would love you because you’d still be my bunny,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching into a playful smile.

“But what if I was just a slimy, wriggly creature, Binnie? I wouldn’t even have my cute little bunny ears!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up dramatically.

“Bunny ears can be overrated,” he countered, his voice full of mock seriousness. “You’d still have your adorable little face… and I could just carry you around in my pocket! Like a pocket worm!”

You burst out laughing at the image of Changbin walking around with a tiny worm version of you in his pocket, like a new-age pet. “A pocket worm? Can you imagine how chaotic that would be? I’d be like, ‘Hey, Binnie, put me down for a second! I want to explore!’”

“Exploring would be tricky with no arms or legs, don’t you think?” He teased, poking your side, making you squirm.

“True! But I’d find a way! I’d wiggle my way through the grass, just like a worm should!” You flailed your arms for emphasis, your laughter echoing off the walls.

Changbin leaned back against the couch, giggling. “You’d be the most adventurous worm out there! But I don’t think you’d like it if it rained. Worms don’t like getting washed away!”

“Yeah, but if it rains, I could just cling to you, and you’d keep me safe!” You said, leaning closer, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Plus, you’d have to make sure to feed me dirt! How romantic!”

“Dirt? That sounds gourmet!” He exclaimed dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d just received shocking news. “What kind of worm would you be? A garden worm or a nightcrawler?”

“Definitely a garden worm! I want to be the kind that helps plants grow,” you declared proudly, your heart swelling at the thought.

Changbin’s expression softened, and he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re already helping me grow every day, bunny. Worm or not, I’d love you just the same.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you beamed at him. “Aww, Binnie! You’re the best boyfriend a worm could ask for!”

“I just want to make sure my pocket worm is happy,” he said, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. “So, how about we make a pact?”

“A pact?” you echoed, intrigued.

“If you ever turn into a worm, I’ll turn into a giant bird. That way, I can carry you everywhere, and no rain will wash you away!” he said, grinning like a child with a bright idea.

“Deal!” you laughed, sealing your whimsical agreement with a dramatic handshake. “But let’s just hope that neither of us turns into a worm or a bird anytime soon!”

“Agreed! I prefer you as my bunny,” he said, pulling you into a tight embrace, his laughter mingling with yours.

As you cuddled together, the chaotic conversation gradually faded into the comforting rhythm of each other's breathing. You knew that with Changbin, every moment—whether as a bunny, a worm, or anything in between—was filled with love, laughter, and the delightful chaos that made your relationship so special.