#bc I feel so empty and dull inside

[diaryofanormalkid]

K but when. It feels like the rapture will come before this happens so lol

“Someday, someone is going to look at you with a light in their eyes you’ve never seen, they’ll look at you like you’re everything they’ve been looking for their entire lives. Wait for it.”

— Unknown

[digitaldiseas3]

dear diary, i feel as though it gets harder and harder to feel anything sometimes 💖 there’s a good bit of frustration between me and my housemates over little things and it all kinda accumulated into one big Thing that is now a Conflict we have to address tomorrow bc we were all too hormonal to have the conversation tonight. and it was bad enough that one of them is staying the night with her girlfriend bc the conflict freaked her out and she didn’t wanna be alone. and i know the other one is probably both anxious and still frustrated/mad over the whole thing. and in the past i totally would have been a wreck over it like i would’ve been super anxious and upset and like. crying myself to sleep. but instead i don’t really feel much of anything! like of course i hope the situation clears up when we talk it through tomorrow but like. that’s about it rn. i feel stuck on the “fine” emotion like a sim. it’s like i can barely even feel stress over school right now even though i know i have a lot that’s really overwhelming. i felt stressed and overwhelmed even earlier today! i felt pissed off and frustrated and petty and bitter earlier! but once i had to slip into my Diplomacy Mode to deescalate the situation, it’s like i can’t turn my emotions back on :P

[dilf-docs]

Atta Girl

old jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: joel miller discovers the world, yes, the same world that has gone (been for a while) to shit, can still have surprises. like you, his sweet naive unexperienced girlfriend, being everything but that.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (old joel miller my GILF!), smut, sighs this is pwp who am i lying to, inexperienced!reader (yet for some reason she's a pro sucker lmao i'm a virgin don't come at me besides this is a fanfic who gives af if it's realistic or not), dirty talk, fingering, breast play, pussy pronouns, oral (m. receiving) (need that geriartric cock inside my mouth), some fluff bc we gotta balance this thing or i'm going to hell (okay he's not mean i baited y'all. mean jackson joel miller piece is still in draft dungeon)

word count: 4,722 words

side note: hell-fucking-o????? 2K CITIZENSHIPS APPROVED!?! ,, ok gonna be honest when i started writing in here and my first fic (an old man logan one, do u guys see a pattern?) flopped, i never thought i'd make it this far and it's all thanks to you my lovely citizens :,) you may think this is silly but your support means a lot to me (especially comments n' rb I'M A WHORE FOR THEM). now, yapping aside, as promised, this won the poll for the celebratory piece, so here you go !!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Joel Miller is a man hard to surprise.

Years of weariness, trust and spirit broken by things that would kill anyone else, and overall, just surviving, you'd think that a man that was hardened by a rough past and of his age had seen it all.

Joel liked to think he was prepared for whatever life threw at him. Enter Ellie: how she had managed to break his shell, from cargo to soothing balm to heal old open wounds he refused to even speak of. But he was ready to burn the world for her, picking guns and taking lives to bring her to a home. His home. He settled, filial terms silent but felt, ready to take the second chance life had given him. Until the bond that united them turned fragile, loose ends tensing the silver string of found family.

He fell down the path of a familiar ache he hadn't felt in a long time, dormant, waiting for him to fuck up to show again with it's dull and hollow torment. He always did. So now he's spending too much time at the Tipsy Bison nursing a glass that could have his name by now, all to avoid going to a eerily quiet home where the room at the end of the hallway lies empty.

And then life decides to startle his track, albeit destructive, with a third chance: you.

Just thinking about you brings a certain tingle that an old rugged man like him should be embarrased about. One he shouldn't even feel.

But Joel loves you, he thinks. From the moment you showed up on his front door, rambling about some reparations at the school, were you volunteered.

"They were all scared of you" your sweet voice had said, some of that unreasonable fear laced within it, "so I came"

He scoffed at Jackson's ridiculous antics. Rumors spread fast in the small town, and suddenly, the hanging threat of who he was followed him everywhere like a shadow, which, given the dark nature of his now put to rest violence, seemed a proper description.

"They sent 'cha?"

You were clearly intimidated, given your shaky frame despite spring and the light tremble in your tone. But you were still here, gaze set on him as a determined child who wants to win the best prize.

"No. I chose to come"

His stomach does a flip at the stillness of your words, security etched in the statement as if you hadn't been in the verge of stuttering seconds ago.

Like you wanted to show him this is what it is, and whatever that was, you weren't running. But he testes the water, skin prickling intensely.

"And you ain't scared, kid?"

He laughed, the type of laugh that shakes your body with unease, but the one that shot across you didn't come from a place of distress, rather a more hidden one, between a pulsing press between your ribs, like it'd swallow you whole if you kept thinking about it too much.

"I am" you answered truthfully.

Something about your quiet admission made him falter the tiniest bit. Maybe it was how you had no problem voicing out loud any of your thoughts, or how you weren't afraid to be seen for what you were, the quiet of your answer out of a gentle place and not dread.

"Then why are ya' still here?"

Brows furrowed, like he, for some reason, expected you to yell at him for all the sins that colored his calloused hands red. Instead, you had looked at him as if he had all the answers in the world, big sparkling eyes staring deep into his tainted soul.

"Because I need you"

Yet, when you said it, Joel felt you weren't talking about the creaky drawers and old stairs anymore, but of the anchor you just found for yourself in the shape of Jackson's most respected and troubled resident, unknowing that, in that moment, he had chosen you too.

So, Joel may have forgotten about what feelings that feel too before world-ly feel like, but the quiet steady beat of his heart, mingling into a peaceful symphony with each soft breath past your rosy lips, head laying over his rising and falling chest, warm, feels exactly like love is.

He knew from the very first time you were his. Yeah, he loves you.

Joel just wants to give you the world, his world: the quiet afternoons, his rough limbs and aching joints, his face covered by spots and sun kisses that compliment his wrinkles, hair that gets curlier and softer and greyer, every figure he makes in his little shop and, of course, his bed.

Your Joel isn't exactly a pleaser, used of doing what he deems best without asking, yet, the moment you uttered those three words, he knew it was because he hadn't met you.

"Be my first"

He remembers the surprise on his face, how it grew red as the silence stretched on. The door bursting open, bed creaking under combined weight and your giggles. He too remembers the sweet cries past your lips, your taut muscles, the little strained breath you let out when he slipped inside of you. It all belonged to him because you let him, and that day, Joel Miller became the luckiest man in the world.

And yet, he still hadn't been as surprised as he was today.

The routine was the same from the past year: pick you up from the school after he was done at the office, taking some minutes to watch you with the toddlers, making voices as the same tender hands you used to jerk him off booped noses and carried children who made him think of getting one of your own, one with your grace and beauty, getting him painfully hard at images of filling you silly and your body changing to carry his seed. Fuck. He was a psychopath for such lewd thoughts on a place destined for education and infancy innocence, and here he was, cock uncomfortable inside his pants.

But then your mouth gets too greedy when your sickenly honeyed voice whispers his name, robbing him of air and only pulling away when his lips get swollen and his face a little flustered.

"Need help down there?"

There's always that problem and you're always the solution.

"Let's go home, sugar. Then ya' can help 'tis ol' man fix it"

Walking back home is always a hassle, hands intertwined, Jackson seeing a cute couple. But you're both aware of the throb that settles in between you like the tension, nobody noticing how hard you're trying to not just fuck on the middle of the street like two eager bunnies.

It's his fault, he thinks as you push the door of his house open, for making you like this.

The truth is, after taking your virginity, Joel's taught you things your unexperienced mind couldn't even imagine, and this past six months, you've complied with that sweet disposition that clung to you like the floral of the soap you used. And Joel loved that: how, despite having his dick stretching your tight pussy, you looked at him with those big eyes from the very first night, still round and innocent, like a doe and not a siren.

Which was surprising, because Joel, in a way, had corrupted you. Tainted the naive angel. And still, it was like he couldn't get rid of quiet shy you. Worst of it all was, instead of filling him with shame from robbing pieces and pieces of your integrity everyday, the older man felt some wicked sense of satisfaction and pride, to see how, despite his age and your soft nature, he was yours as you were his, and that he had taught you exactly how to enjoy that.

He knows you like the palm of his hand and the littered scars across his chest. The pattern you call stars, holding into a beauty only you see in the ugly marks, yet make him feel with each delicate trace, making such blunt and rough marks a galaxy; exorbitant. The same ones he thinks hide behind your adoring warm eyes. Joel just knows you, so even when things go the same way they have for a while, he's aware something is different when your fingers fiddle with his belt, trembling hands now struggling to free his aching cock.

He knows better than to think it's your arousal and impatience. No, this is something else.

"Sweetheart..." he warns. "Somethin' wrong?"

You shake your head, hands ready to take his underwear down.

"I'm fine"

He won't take that clipped sentence for an answer. Instead, his hands slowly remove yours from his hips before going to grab you by your chin, fingers pressing not enough to bruise but to make a point. His thumb presses lightly over your mouth, your bottom lip tugged down, parting your lips. You let out a little sigh, closing your eyes, eyelashes kissing your cheekbones. What a damn sight, he thinks.

"Talk to me"

"I want to suck your cock"

He almost chokes on nothing. Joel coughs a little, red painting his cheeks as a surge of lust and desire crashes through him. His eyes go wide at your bold and eager request, because one: it wasn't like you to talk like this, and two, you had never done it before.

Sure, you had jerked him off so many times he's lost count, but your lips wrapped around his length, mouth swallowing his aching cock? Just the image of it going past your pretty lips, the sensation of your spit mixed with his liquids... He already has a special place in hell, the blood rushing to his already hard member.

"Fuck, sugar. You wanna have this dick 'nside y'r mouth so bad? That eager and needy y'are?" he asked, voice reduced to a low rumble.

You nod, a little too excited as he sits in the edge of your shared bed, letting out a huff of effort. Old man sounds, you would tease. But not today, it seems, when your eyes are too busy looking at the pulsating silhouette under the grey cloth. He smirks, removing the layer, and he swears you begin to salivate like a starving dog.

"Y' think y' can take it?" his hand wrapped around his sensitive cock, giving it a few slow pumps as he watches you with a drowsy gaze. "Ain't it too much for a pretty lil' thing like y'rself?"

Wordlessly, you fall to your knees, looking up to him with those eyes of yours that drove him crazy. You caress his thigh, and despite being the one in control, Joel's eyelids feel heavy, fluttering at your soft and tender touches on his thick muscle, every hair rising at the reverence of your every move. You leave a little kiss in his inner thigh, making his heart skip a beat, breath a little ragged.

"I can" sounding so sure. Oh, his little angel.

"You gon' be a good girl then?" he whispers, voice hoarse and thick, looking down at you.

You nod, slowly.

"Let me taste it" you murmur, voice soft and breathy.

Your tongue darts out, licking a slow stripe up his shaft. You savor the salty taste of his arousal, moaning softly at the flavor. Joel's brown eyes darken in seconds.

"Quit 'da teasin'. 'M too damn old for that"

You smile a bit. "Impatient"

"Minx" he replies, voice thick.

It is indeed big, especially now that it was hard, and you do wonder for a second if you're biting more than you can chew.

"Y'asked for 'tis" like he can read your mind, "don't grow shy on me, doll"

He groans when your hand wraps around his length, stroking him slowly, teasingly as you always do. He feels the heat building in his gut as you work him over, letting out a little groan.

"F-feels so good, sugar" he voices out, strained. "But I need'a know if y'r made fo' 'tis. C'mon, princess. Show me what'a good lil' cock slut y'are"

You lean in, warm breath ghosting over the sensitive head of his big cock, making him shudder.

"Let's see what y'r pretty mouth can do" while tracing your lips, idly.

For the first time ever, the warmth of your mouth takes him. He can see it dissapear past your lips, stretching around his girth. Joel can only watch with a breath he forgets to take how every inch of his thick cock is gone past your lips. Entranced, like this was a magic trick of some sorts.

"S' that all?" he lets out a tense chuckle. You narrow your eyes, feeling a bit of a gag and spit drool past your lips. "Don't worry, princess. I can be of help on that"

He moves a bit, groin almost on your face as he's dangerously close to fucking your face. Instead, you feel how it reaches the back of your throat, making you pause at the feeling of your eyes watering slightly as you adjust to the intrusion.

"S'okay, sweet girl. I know ya' can take it deeper" he encourages, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair. "Relax, baby. You're doing so good-" his voice cuts off with a strained grunt. Then, he voices out in a more huskier tone. "Use y'r throat and take my cock like'a good girl"

You push forward, taking him deeper until Joel feels the head of his cock bump the back of your throat. He throws his head back, curls combed slicked now starting to dampen and fall disheveled, drops of sweat sliding down his forehead, muscles of his thighs taut with trepidation.

You gag slightly yet quickly recover as if to prove something.

"That's right. Why did we wait s' long to do 'tis? Fuck, baby, ya' were born for 'tis. Keep goin'. Y' mouth's drivin' me crazy"

Joel groans as you take him deep, nose pressing against his groin, his fingers tightening in your hair. Your throat constricts around him all while you fight your gag reflex. Then slowly, you pull back, lips sliding along his shaft until just the tip remained in your warm mouth.

"Don't be such'a tease" his voice reduced to a hoarse rasp. You just give him what appears to be a shrug and an apologetic smile, right before diving back in, taking him to the hilt once more. His hips rock involuntarily at the feel, your head bobbing. A guttural moan cuts through his throat, the only other sound in the room aside the wet sounds of your suckling. "S' real bad girl, hun. Wouldn't think a docile lil' doll like ya' would be s' mean"

But he watches you with such adoration in his eyes, completely captivated as you work him over, that you know his words carry no malice behind them. Without a word, he takes your hands, guiding them to pump what you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"Let's give 'em somethin' to do, don't 'cha think?"

Suddenly, the pressure ties his stomach in knots, his belly strained under his flannel shirt, slightly protruding in the middle, buttons as tense as his muscles. Joel feels his legs become shaky, chest heaving as he catches his breath. He looks down at you, taking in the sight of your sweet disposition. If he wasn't one lucky man.

"Y/n" he gasps your name in a choked breath, followed by a strangled grunt, his release building fast as he doesn't dare to . "I'm gonna..."

Joel tries to pull off, thinking having you wrapped around his shaft is enough sin for the day, but then your hands find their way to his legs, keeping him grounded. His eyes widen slightly at the insistent glaze in your determined eyes.

"God damn, doll. What're ya'-"

He doesn't get to finish, his words dissolving into a low, animalistic growl as his orgasm crashes over him. His cock jerks and pulses in your waiting mouth, spilling thick ropes of hot, salty cum down your eager throat, painting its back white.

"Baby, don't" Joel says through a worn down rasp, trying to pull out, but you, his sweet little girlfriend, grips his thighs with an unknown force, keeping him buried deep as you greedily work to milk every last bit of his cum.

"'S 'tis what ya' want, huh? You dirty dirty girl" his voice grows lower, a filthy snarl as his eyes darken a bit more. "Swallow it, then. Take all ma' fucken seed"

He holds your head in place, fingers tangled in your damp hair as he rides out the intense waves of his release. Joel's so inside of you, he can feel your throat working, gulping down every drop he had to give.

Finally, as the last spurts of his climax taper off, he releases you, his chest heaving with exertion. You pull back, a strand of saliva and cum connecting your bottom lip to the tip of his spent cock.

"Like that, dirty girl?" he grabs you by your chin, thumb wiping some of your saliva and his cum off. "Did ya' like the taste f' ma' cum?"

You lick your lips, savoring the taste of him. "I did"

"'S that right? What happened to my angel?"

You laugh, the sound tired and hoarse. "I'm still here"

He pats his thigh, so you sit in there, wrapping your arms around his neck. With a free hand, you remove some curls that have fallen over his worn face.

"Hard'a believe"

You click your tongue. "You were never a believer, Miller"

He lets out an exhausted chuckle. "I believe in you"

Joel revels in the delicate pink hues coating your cheeks. He's so weak for you.

"Now, doll. Be honest with y'r ol' man" he brushes a stray strand off your face, tucking it behind your ear with a delicacy so contrary to the roughness of his hands. "I know when ma' girl's goin' through somethin'"

You seem to grow shy all of the sudden. "You'd be right"

Needless to say, he's intrigued now.

"Care to tell?"

You hide your face on his shoulder, inhaling his sweat and natural odor, even the faint traces of soap. He combs through your hair, lazily.

"Promise you won't laugh" you say as you pull back, to face him.

He raises a hand, expression curious.

"I'd never make fun of 'cha, doll"

"I want you to cum inside me"

The room grows quiet for a minute, an by each second of silence that stretches so is the red across your face. Joel blinks slowly. Once and twice. By the third time, the crease between his brows has become prominent.

"What?"

Your face grows hot as you try to run away, but he stops you.

"Woah, hey. Where ya' goin'?"

"I told you you'd laugh" you pout your lips, flustered.

"I ain't even let out a goddam laugh" he defends himself. "'M just tryna process in here"

You huff. "What's so hard to understand?"

Joel looks at you like you've grown a second head. "Y' really gon' ask me that?"

"Maybe I want to try different things" you play with your fingers, avoiding his gaze.

He obligues you to look by taking you by your chin, gently. A small warm smile adorns his face.

"Different's good"

You reciprocate his smile. Maybe it's that or the fact he can still see his cum glistening your lips, or the thrill of his seed seeping out of your tight walls. Either way, Joel surrenders.

"Ya' know I'll give 'cha anythin' you want" he says, voice low. "Just say da' word"

You gulp. "Yes"

Joel lets out a low, animalistic growl at your breathy acceptance. It was all the permission he needed. He crashes his lips against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, pouring every ounce of his pent-up desire as he grabs you by your hair, right at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and tighter. His other hand roams your body greedily, slipping under your shirt to caress the smooth, warm skin beneath.

"We gotta take 'tis out"

He shoves the fabric up and off, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it aside.

"It's my shirt"

"It's a nuissance"

He pauses for a moment, drinking in the sight of your naked torso, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each anticipating breath.

"Told ya'" he murmurs, voice rough with desire. "'S fuckin' perfect to be hidin' all that"

Joel leans down, capturing one rosy peak in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud, suckling and teasing until it pebbles under his touch. You let out a breathy choked moan, loving the wet of his tongue against your warm skin. Then, his hot breath ghosts over as he utters a simple word that has your core clenching at nothing.

"Mine"

His hand slide down your stomach, slipping under the waistband of your jeans. Joel can feel the heat of you, the damp patch that had formed on the fabric of your panties. He groans against your breast, his fingers sliding lower, brushing against your clothed sex.

"Can tell she missed me. That ya' weren't lyin', baby. She's fucken wet" he rasps, his voice muffled against your skin.

Joel's fingers slip under the fabric of your panties, feeling the slick heat of your arousal coating his fingertips. He groans, his cock hard again, throbbing almost painfully against the confines of his jeans.

"Fuck, sugar" he mutte4red, his voice rough and low. "S' ready for me already"

He circles your clit with the pad of his thumb, feeling it swell under his touch.

"Ain't she know me s' goddam well..."

Then, he dips a finger inside your tight, clutching heat, groaning at the way your walls flutter around the intrusion.

"God, you feel s' good" Joel says, voice strained. "S' fucking tight and perfect. I can't wait to feel ya' wrapped 'round my cock, doll. Can't wait any damn longer fo' y'r sweet lil' cunt"

He pumps his finger in and out, thumb still circling your clit. He can feel you getting closer, your hips starting to buck against his hand.

"That's it, baby" he encourages, his voice a low, filthy rumble. "Fuck yourself on ma' fingers. Show me how much ya' want it"

He adds a second finger, then a third, making you yelp as he stretches you open.

"Relax, doll. We've done 'tis before. 'M just preparing her to take ma' dick. You gon' be a good girl and stop fucken squirmin'?"

You nod, pliant, your body starting to tense.

"'Tis ya' reward. Come on ma' fingers like a good girl, and then I'll give 'cha what ya' really want. I'm gon' fill 'tis greedy cunt with my cum an' pump 'cha s' full of it 'til 's drippin' outta ya'"

Joel curls his fingers inside you, rubbing that all too well spot that brings you to tears. He feels you clench down hard, crying out as you come undone. Your orgasm crashes over, body convulsing as your pussy clenches rhythmically around his fingers. When he pulls his fingers out, he's bringing them to his lips, sucking off your essence from the digits, groaning at the taste of you.

"'S sweet as always"

After that, Joel is quick to shed what's left of his clothing, nearly tearing the old flannel in his haste. He lays you down on the bed, covering your body with his own, his tummy pressing lightly over your abdomen, his weight sinking you down on the mattress.

He then looks down at you, taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks, glistening parted kiss-swollen lips, and heaving chest.

"I love ya', sweet girl" Joel blurts out, eyes are dark and intense.

He settles between your thighs, the thick head of his cock nudging against your slick entrance.

"Say y'are mine" voice a low, demanding growl. "Say ya' belong to me, y/n, baby. Say it"

He pushes forward slightly, just the tip of him slipping inside your tight heat. He groans at the feel of you, at how your walls stretch to accommodate him. You let out a small whimper, yet still unable to form coherent sentences.

"I want to hear you say it, angel" Joel presses nonetheless, his voice strained.

He rocks his hips slowly, pushing a little more of his thick length inside you with each thrust. He can feel you getting wetter, core glistening as if your body yielded to his.

"Please, y/n" he begs, voice rough and desperate. "Please, baby... say it. That 'am your first an' last. The only man who ever fucks 'tis sweet cunt"

"I'm yours, Joel" you choke out. "Only yours"

With a final, hard thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head at the feel of you, letting out a long low groan.

"Fuck, doll" he gasps, hips starting to move, pistoning in and out of you. "She's just made f'me, ain't she? Gon' make ya' feel good. Give ya' what y'asked for. Lemme take care of it. I like to take care of's mine"

He hooks your legs over his shoulders, nearly bending you in half as he pounds into you. The bed creaks under you, headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust.

"Take it, sugar. Just like ya' wanted. 'Tis dirty mouth n' greedy pussy" Joel growls. "Take ma' cock like a good little girl. Fuck, y' were made f'r 'tis. Made't be fucked hard and deep and full of my cum"

He feels the tight coil of heat in his gut winding tighter and tighter; knows he won't last long.

"Please, Joel" you mewl, desperately clinging to him.

Joel lets out a feral growl at your plea, hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. He can feel you clenching down around him, body trembling as another orgasm builds deep inside you.

"Ya' want my cum, baby?" he snarls. "Want me t' fill her 'til it's drippin' down y'r legs?"

You nod, too eager.

"Look at that" he chuckles, pounding harder into you, forgetting for a moment he's sixty one. "Such a slut, beggin' for me to flood 'tis sweet pussy with ma' load. 'M gon' give ya' s' much you'll be leakin' for days. Gon' fill her up nicely. I know you gon' make sure not'a single drop goes to waste"

Joel reaches down, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles.

"Come with me, doll" he demands, growling. "Come on my cock like a good girl n' milk every last drop 'f cum. Show me just how much ya' want it"

With a final, brutal thrust, Joel buries himself balls deep inside you. He throws his head back, a guttural roar tearing from his throat as his orgasm rips through him.

"Take it, baby. Let me make ya' mine" His cock jerks and pulses inside you, spurt after spurt of hot, thick cum painting your insides. "Atta girl"

He collapses against you, hips still rocking slightly as the aftershocks of his release roll through him. He can feel you coming around him, pussy clenching and milking his spent cock, trying to pull every last drop of his seed deep inside you, just like you asked for.

Joel's chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath, heart pounding against yours as he cradles you close.

"Not so bad for an old man"

He snickers, rolling onto his side, pulling you with him until you're tucked against his chest, head pillowed on his arm.

"Brat"

He wraps his other arm around your waist, holding you close as he nuzzles into your hair, traces of lavender up his nose.

"But you love me"

Joel sighs softly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, then temple and finally shell of your ear. In that moment, he knows he'll never let you go.

"That I do"

You softly comb his hair, his eyelids fluttering.

"I love you too, Joel"

A beat of silence goes by.

"So..."

"So?"

Joel offers a tired smile, glint of mischief laced somewhere.

"Any other ideas ya' wanna say outloud?"

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @iamasaddie

[icallhimjoey]

Almost, Always

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: Happy endings aren't for everyone, so it seems, but that doesn't mean that you can't stop trying for one. Question is, are you actually star-crossed lovers that can figure something out, or just absolutely blind to reality and really fucking stupid?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, smut, cheating

Author’s note: i want to thank @lfdybadgirlsdiw again, bc she sent in a small request that mentioned 'former lovers that keep going back to each other, even if they are seeing other people' which then sparked this whole story into existence 🖤 i also want to sincerely apologise to all the girls that have reached out and taught me that none of us lead unique lives (which in this case is terrible, but also, really comforting) thank you for reading! i hope you enjoy this last part, and i'd love to hear your thoughts!

Wordcount: 7.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The world felt muted. Dull, and empty. Deeply hollow, and completely void of colour.

There was only so much shit a person could take before enough was enough, and finally, after accepting the bare minimum from Joe for far too long, you decided you no longer wanted it.

The sky hung heavy, and the beginnings of what would eventually feel like an endless winter promised to keep the mood low and bleak for the rest of the season. There was an under-skin discomfort only the passing of time was going to be able to shed.

You broke up with Joe.

It fucking sucked. There was confusion, and deep hurt. Anger. Defeat.

And yet, you felt weirdly proud of yourself.

“It’d be better for you to leave him.” Emily had told you time and time again. Finally, you’d listened. You knew she was going to be so proud, which gave a small sense of relief.

Everything else felt bleak, though. Like time had stopped on the moment of impact. Hands of the clock frozen in time, forever showing the point at which it truly landed for Joe.

Joe hadn’t felt like this for a long time. Didn’t know if he had ever felt like this before, if he was honest. There was a difficulty in processing the shock, in accepting there was even a shock to begin with, but he knew you were right. It was why he couldn’t stop saying it.

“Don’t feel bad, you’re right. You’re right.”

It felt wrong to be right, and you didn’t want to be right ever again if this is what it’d be like.

The little sliver of pride inside of you wasn’t getting the attention it deserved in the moment, but that was okay. You’d get to it later. And maybe, one day, Joe would too.

“Will you,” Joe broke the silence, voice hoarse and throat in pain. He cleared it, which didn’t help much, and hopefully finished, “Will you stay the night?”

You’d been sat in the quiet dark for quite a while, just listening to each other breathe. It started with Joe perched on the very edge of his sofa, leg shaking as he tried to come to terms with what you were saying.

You’d sat down next to him then, and he’d immediately pulled you close, hands gripping and trying their best to hold onto whatever there was for him to hold onto still.

Just was a shame there wasn’t much left for him to grasp.

“I don’t think I should.”

You wanted to.

Badly.

But you genuinely didn’t think that would be a good idea.

You felt how Joe shifted a little, arms moving to wrap you up differently from how they had been. He was unsure of how to hold you, but tried his best to find a way that made you want to stay.

“Yea. No… you’re right. You probably shouldn’t…”

If you weren’t absolutely determined, the soft brokenness of Joe’s voice would’ve made you give in instantly.

“But will you?” Joe tried again.

“Joe…”

“I know, I know, please, don’t…” Joe faltered. There were a lot of things Joe didn’t want you to do. Please don’t say it. Please don’t repeat yourself.

Please don’t leave.

There was a stillness that had taken over the room - the world - when Joe realised that you weren’t joking. A stillness where even the wind outside hesitated to stir. You weren’t saying shit just to get a reaction out of him. You weren’t trying to get him to say words you wanted him to say. You’d been serious from the second you’d walked into Joe’s flat, and Joe felt stupid how he had just… immediately dismissed you. How he hadn’t even really listened as you spoke to him.

It had been a few days since you’d seen each other, and you’d secretly been collecting and saving bravery. You’d avoided Joe for a few days whilst you kept busy, storing all the courage you could find in a secret spot inside of your body, waiting for it to be enough to drive you into just fucking saying it already.

Joe hadn’t questioned the stupid excuses you’d come up with to not see him a couple of nights in a row. Hadn’t questioned it at all, didn’t seem to really care about it either, which only added to your valour. To the ‘he doesn’t even give a shit’ narrative that you needed to believe with your full heart, because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have decided to spontaneously text him, “on my way over” before flying out the door.

If you could stop your hands from shaking, that’d be great, but you were going to do this. You were going to ride this wave of determination, without or with a shaking body.

When you stepped into Joe’s flat, sick with nerves and heavy tension, Joe was hunched over a messy open drawer of a side cupboard.

“Have you seen my earphones? Wired ones?” he rummaged through with both hands.

No hi. No hello. No I’ve not seen you in days, come here, let me kiss you silly.

Have you seen my earphones.

The real important stuff.

“My wireless ones, the left bud has stopped charging itself…”

And you knew exactly where Joe’s wired earphones were.

For a second, you debated giving in. Debated using this as your out. Debated smiling, rolling your eyes all fondly, being the helpful girl Joe needed in this moment. It was tempting to forcibly forget about the one sentence you’d repeated inside of your mind over and over and over again since you’d walked out your door.

Fingers rubbed over the hems of your sleeves as you stood in the doorway still, and you felt where you’d rubbed literal holes into the fabric. 

“Pay a fucking fortune for nice ones and still, it’s the same bullshit, nice or not, it’s…” Joe finally turned his head to look at you when you remained silent. He watched you for a second before he stood up straight.

“Hey… you okay?” he frowned, hands fiddling with whatever junk he’d found instead of what he was looking for.

“I don’t… I don’t think I’m very happy anymore…”

There.

The words were out.

You’d said them, and even though you’d expected the world to maybe crack open and for everything to immediately go to absolute shit... nothing happened.

But you’d said the words, and the tiniest littlest speck of gratification popped up inside of your chest.

You had to actively remember how to breathe, but if you’d leave right now, at least you had said those words.

“All right,” Joe frowned a little, and cast his eyes back down to whatever his hands were doing. “What needs changing then? You can turn the heating up, if you want.”

Joe’s casual dismissal felt sharp as a blade, severing any hope of fixing this. Of saving it. It was completely mismatched to how tense you felt.

“No, I’m not…” you felt your knees shake as Joe continued rummaging. Suddenly, you were way more nervous to say those exact same words once again. “I’m not happy. Anymore.” You had to swallow straight after, mouth dry, tongue thick.

“All right,” Joe made an annoyed face at a random electrical wire he found, and continued, “So what needs changing then?”

His slight annoyance fed everything bad inside. Joe was unknowingly coaxing you into the exact right headspace for what needed doing.

“This.”

Joe still wasn’t looking at you.

“This what?”

Part of you wanted to show your frustration. The anger. Wanted to clench your fists and exhale roughly through flared nostrils to show him, to make him see. You wish you wanted to raise your voice and fight. But the unrelenting defeat of the moment rooted itself deeper inside of your body. The lack of care coming from Joe, the attention he wasn’t giving you, the dismissal of what you’d just told him, because his wired earphones were obviously so much more important than you were... it all combined into nothing more than a simple shrug.

You remained calm, protectively flat, and just… shrugged.

“This.”

You repeated yourself once more, and when Joe didn’t even seem to properly hear you, you looked at the open door that lead to the hallway which had his bedroom at the end of it.

You knew where Joe’s wired earphones were.

What followed were slow and measured footsteps that carried you over into Joe’s bedroom where you found the wired earphones in one of his bedside tables before you slowly made your way back over to him.

With a soft hand, you reached for one of his and held it in yours, palm up, to place the earphones into.

“Oh! Where did you find–”

“I think I need to stop thinking that things are going to ever be different…”

You looked Joe in the eye, and it was like he only then noticed what he was looking at. Like the earphones being found closed a chapter, and now there was attention for you and, oh, you didn’t look very happy.

“It’s never going to be different… is it?”

You looked very sad, actually.

Sort of drained of life.

Really tired.

“Hey, are you all right?” Joe discarded his earphones to the side and grabbed hold of one of your elbows, pulling you a little closer.

“Things aren’t going to ever be different, are they?”

You saw how Joe copied the knit of your eyebrows, face going from a little confused to very suddenly filled with deep worry.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“Like, with us. This.” You stepped back, just slightly, creating distance.

“Are you… are you being serious right now?” And Joe stepped forward, moving right along with you to close that distance again.

“I think...” you sighed, eyes closed but back straight and chin up. Strong. “I think I need a change.”

“Baby… a change like what? What are you talking about?”

One of Joe’s hands cupped your cheek, thumb pushing underneath your jaw, taking the weight of your whole head as he tipped your head just right for eye-contact.

“Joe, I’m not… this isn’t what I want.”

“Me?”

No.

“Us.”

“Oh…”

Joe’s eyes moved between yours, searching for the slightest little bit of softness you still had for him.

He found it easily.

“I’m sorry.”

But he hadn’t expected the compassion there to be sympathy and pity for the situation you were placing Joe into.

At first, there’d been a surge of angry confusion. Of Joe stepping back and jokingly accusing you of being daft. Of telling you that your heart had frozen over because he probably hadn’t turned the heating up high enough. He asked if you’d eaten. If maybe you’d been drinking. Anything to make sense of what was going on, of why you’d walked into his flat on a random evening to tell him things he didn’t want to hear.

Then, there’d been yelling. Hurried large steps got paced around his living room, his arms flying about in unrestrained wild gestures. “You keep referring to past mistakes! You always say you forgive and forget, but you’re not forgetting shit!”, “Have you been hanging out– did you just come straight over from Emily? Has she been planting shit into your brain that you– you can’t actually be fucking serious right now!”, “God, this is so fucking annoying! You’re being annoying!”, “Are you sure this is what you want to do? The worst. Just the fucking worst!”. Joe’s voice went up as he screamed, cracking when he got too passionate, and you wished that had been new information to you.

Eventually, there’d been a weird composed faux acceptance that felt like a manipulative tranquility that Joe adapted to simply show you that you didn’t actually want what you were asking for. A childish, ‘Fine, I’ll give you what you want, see how it sucks?!’ just to prove to you that you were wrong.

When you didn’t budge, and it all finally really landed, everything changed.

Joe turned soft.

Went from frantic movements to suddenly sighing the deepest sigh he’d ever sighed to slowly making his way over to you, hesitating slightly when moving in to hug you, but then going for a full both-arm-tight-wrap-up when you didn’t flinch away.

After about a minute of tightly embracing, you heard Joe sniff close to your ear, and you realised he was crying.

“Joe, I’m sorry, I–”

“No, no.” Joe pulled back, used his sleeve to quickly wipe at his face before going, “No, look at me. Look. You’re right. I’m the one- no, look. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t– you’re right, you’re…” Joe moved both his hands into his hair, a flash of panic, and had to take a few steps as he inhaled deeply.

“You’re not annoying.”

You saw how his jaw clenched. How he rapidly blinked to keep further tears at bay.

“I don’t know why…” Joe started, sitting down on the edge of his sofa as he rubbed a hand across his face. “It just… it never even occurred to me that you had the option to… to go anywhere. But you’re right.”

You didn’t care about being right. It didn’t feel nice to be right about something so devastating.

Looking at Joe, broken boy unsure of where to steer his thoughts and his emotions, you knew this wasn’t what you wanted. This wasn’t what you’d envisioned for the both of you. But, to be fair, almost nothing about what you’d become together had come about because you’d envisioned it that way.

You moved to sit down next to Joe and got immediately taken a hold of.

“Will you stay the night?”

“I don’t think I should.”

“Yea. No… you’re right. You probably shouldn’t... but, will you?”

“Joe…” you couldn’t tell him you would. Couldn’t reply with the ‘I will’ he wanted from you.

“I know, I know, please... don’t…”

If you weren’t going to stay the night, at least Joe would have this. Long quiet minutes, sat on his sofa together. Touching. Staring into nothingness. The longer he could keep you there, the better.

He found new ways to hug.

Different ways to hold.

Arms moved, swiped, squeezed and felt, mapping your every inch in a desperate bid to remember.

Joe took hold of the back of your neck in the exact way he knew you liked, thumb pressing into the dip at the base of your skull, rubbing small circles there.

And you gave him that.

Gave him this moment, frozen in time, just before you’d eventually walk out without plans of ever returning.

“You do know,” Joe started off, voice barely there in a whisper, words pressed into the skin just behind your ear. “You know that I really do love you, don’t you?”

And the world shattered.

The first real and sincere I love you that you’d ever gotten from him.

That wasn’t meant to hurt like it did.

“You know that right?”

All you could do was give a small nod that Joe felt with his face as you fought with all of your being to not burst into tears.

“I love you.”

The cruelest goodbye present you hadn’t asked for, thrusted into your lap at the worst possible time, and you had no other choice than to just simply accept it.

“Yea... love you, too.”

You can see him in the reflection of the window that the treadmills are aimed at, leisurely strolling into your line of sight. Towel over his shoulder, wearing his grey hoodie, wired earphones already in his ears, and eyes on his phone as he seems to sort through a playlist.

It’s been a day.

One single day.

One day since you’d woken up on his sofa.

One day since you’d said yes to a morning coffee that you probably shouldn’t have said yes to.

One day since you’d called the guy in your flat and had to explain why you’d left him in your bed on his own in the middle of the night.

One day since Joe sat across the table from you, coffee in hand, and listened to you stutter through vague excuses.

One day since you’d groaned at yourself for being so fucking stupid, and asked Joe, “What the fuck are we doing...”

One day since he’d shrugged and regretfully told you he wished he had an answer to that question.

To all of your questions, for that matter.

Joe showing up to your gym isn’t coincidental. It simply can’t be. It makes no sense for Joe to go to the gym that’s right around the corner from your flat.

There’s also no way he hasn’t seen you.

There’s not a chance he doesn’t know you’re here.

This is what Joe does, what he did just a short while ago, and he goes about it in almost the exact same way.

His slow pace gives him away.

The fact that he stops just as he has passed you, giving the free treadmill next to yours a quick glance as if he’s only just decided, yea I can do a bit of cardio here, why not, gives him away.

The moment his fucking awful purple pumas touch the machine next to you, you stop looking at him in the reflection. Eyes straight ahead. You keep them firmly trained on yourself instead, and keep a steady pace.

Yea. You hate the gym.

But you’re here to work out, and work out only.

Not to socialise.

Not to potentially run into someone.

Not to prove to someone, to anyone, that you’re a person that goes to the gym now.

No.

You’re there to work out. Guilt has been slowly eating at you until the anxiety of it all, the extreme criticism aimed at yourself, became too much and physical exercise seemed like the only healthy way out.

The only healthy way through.

You’re working out to feel better about yourself, about the choices that you’ve made, and you fucking hate every single second of it. But, you’re only about halfway through what you’d set out to do, and the plan is to fucking finish it. To do the full routine, no ifs ands or buts.

From your peripheral vision, you can see how Joe turns the machine on and how he throws the screen of yours an obvious glance.

Then, he sets the speed to just a little faster than yours.

Idiot.

For a little while it’s easy to ignore him. Makes sense, since you’ve gotten a lot of practice over the years. You could look right through him if you wanted to, face blank, eyes all hollow. Sometimes that was just what he deserved, and you remember how it always felt shockingly good to push his buttons by simply pretending he wasn’t there.

You’re an expert in driving this man insane.

But driving him insane isn’t the end goal here – instead it’s trying to hold yourself together, to harden yourself just enough, to not let him drive you insane.

So you ignore him.

Focus on your breathing. The whirring of the treadmill. The miles you’ve already run. How may more you have to go. Your own heartrate. The position of your feet.

Left. Right. Left. Right.

Breathe in, in.

Breathe out, out.

God, you fucking hate running, but there’s something that itches you about the fact that Joe put the speed of his treadmill a half mile per hour faster than yours.

And it’s not a fair race – which is what this fucking is now: a race – because he’s just wandered in and you’ve been going for a while already.

But maybe that’s actually good.

This guy’s not warmed up. Just got on the treadmill and started bolting.

Idiot.

It doesn’t take long for Joe’s breathing to pick up. For it to become audible to you, and you know he’s not going to be able to keep this up much longer. 

Just when you think Joe’s going to reach over and lower the speed of his treadmill, you decide to double down on this inevitable win and press the plus button twice.

Twice.

And fuck, you immediately regret it. The burn in your legs is merciless. An unforgiving persistent ache, yet the burn in your lungs is worse.

In, in. Out, out. In, in. Out, out.

Some of the sweat that’s dripping down your face gets stopped by your eyebrows, yet some also gets past and goes straight into your eyes, but fuck off, you’re winning.

You can do this.

You can pretend you just wanted to run extra fast for a minute. Maybe two.

Four minutes.

You manage four minutes before your start getting scared your legs are going to turn into actual jelly. For fear of tripping over your own feet and launching yourself backwards across the gym floor, you have to slow it down.

The second you do, Joe does as well.

It feels like your lungs have forgotten how to absorb oxygen, but you’re walking, and it’s fine. You did slow down your treadmill before Joe did, but you ran faster than him and, all together, ran for much longer, so it’s a win.

You’ve won.

You’ll die on this hill– you won and Joe lost and he is a loser.

There’s another moment where you can see Joe glance over, and even though you’re both at a walking pace, he still goes to adjust his speed so it’s higher than yours. Then, he removes his earphones.

Time to acknowledge his presence.

“You don’t go to this gym.” You manage to say before Joe gets a chance to get a word in.

Shit, you’re panting.

“I don’t?” But so is Joe. “Weird place for me to be then.”

You give him a look.

“Why are you here?”

Joe pulls a face he always pulls when he’s about to make a joke. It’s a stern face that’s hiding a smile so well, it just looks like he’s a frowning asshole.

“Hmm. Why... am I here?” he repeats seriously, pensive, like the answer escapes him. Then he looks around and uses an arm to showcase the gym he’s in, like it’s obvious he’s there to work out. It makes you feel like he’s making fun of you, which immediately stirs up animosity inside you.

“Well,” you start collecting your things. Towel, water bottle, phone. “Good luck. Get swole, or whatever.”

And you’re off.

“I’ll see you for a coffee, after!” Joe calls after you, and when you turn your head, you see him smirk as he wipes his towel across his forehead.

“No thanks!” you make yourself sound as polite and upbeat as you can whilst turning him down.

Joe watches you walk away, past some of the rowing machines, and he sees how other guys glance a look at you.

He doesn’t blame them.

If he’s honest, he doesn’t really know what he’s doing here, just that he wants to be near you. If that means going over to yours unannounced just to see you cross the street and enter the gym, rushing back home to get his own kit and making his way back over to get a guest pass, and then super casually accidentally ending up on a treadmill next to you, well, then... that’s what he’ll do.

Joe doesn’t know what he’s doing.

What you’re doing.

Why he’s been excited every time he’s seen you over the past couple of months. Why he’s been sad every time you parted ways again.

He doesn’t know why you keep coming back after you ended it all, but what he does know is that it must mean that it’s not over.

Not fully.

There’s a door there, still open enough for him to squeeze through, and yesterday, he realised he would actually rather hurt himself whilst struggling to get through your door, than pick any of the other doors that girls are holding wide open for him.

Joe watches you make your way over to the weight machines and you decide to pretend Joe’s not really there. Decide to pretend that there’s not something dangerously delightful about seeing Joe all sweaty and out of breath.

You get on with your work out routine.

Do the leg press for a bit. Some leg curls. Some extensions.

Nothing for the arms.

You have no upper body strength, and Joe’s watching. You’re very much doing your best to pretend he’s not there, but, you still find yourself secretly checking if you’re being watched.

And you are.

You ignore the furious blush on your cheeks and tell yourself it’s just because your exercising. The heat you feel in your face is just there because you’re moving. S’got nothing to do with Joe, who’s in your peripheral vision the whole time.

He’s strategically moving across the gym floor, standing in front of mirrors that reflect the best views of you, and yea, sure, he’s holding weights in both his hands, but he’s not really doing much, is he? He’ll curl an arm up every couple of seconds, but there’s barely any effort there.

Which makes sense.

Joe’s busy watching.

He’s watching you work out as discretely as he can.

He knows you’re aware of it too. Knows you’re following his whereabouts. Sees you check over your shoulder a little more often than seems normal to check your surroundings. Knows you’re having the absolute worst time because you hate physical exercise like this, but he watches as you power through.

Watches as you seem to finish up.

Watches you leave for the changing rooms, and he quickly does the same. Drops the weights he was still holding right where he’s standing and rushes to get his things because he wants to be ready and waiting by the door when you walk out.

You’re faster than expected.

Joe’s only just left the men’s changing rooms, zipping up his jacket, when he sees you emerge from the women’s.

You see him too.

Of course you do.

But you look right past him as you leave the building, and Joe has to scramble to get the door before it smacks him in the face as he follows you out.

“That was a quick shower.” Joe muses, following your tail.

“I shower at home.” You simply answer, looking for traffic both ways.

“Yea? Can’t tempt you into getting a quick coffee together somewhere?”

Joe dashes after you as you cross the street and comes to walk next to you.

“I’ve got coffee at home.” You dismiss him, but Joe hasn’t given up half his morning for you to suddenly use your sound, responsible mind. Not after yesterday.

“Oh, great. Even better.”

For whatever reason, even after all the interactions you’ve had with Joe post break-up, this feels like the first time it means something. Maybe it’s because it’s been a literal single day since you woke up next to him on his sofa, or maybe it’s because it was a little difficult to look at yourself in the mirror after.

You stop walking abruptly and it takes Joe two whole steps to realise you’re no longer next to him.

“What are you...” you falter, brow furrowed as you look at him.

“Doing?” Joe finishes for you, then shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m doing what we do– what we have been doing.”

He says it so plainly, like there’s not a million things wrong with that. Like he hadn’t invited you over to stay the night at his flat when there was a whole other person in his bed, likely wondering why the fuck she woke up on her own, just like the guy you’d left in yours.

You’re terrible people, and what Joe is meant to do, is self-loathe in his own time until the feeling has faded enough for a new bout of dumb decisions. You know, like you’re doing.

“You can’t just–...”

“Can’t what?”

Your eyes fall to Joe’s stupid trainers, his faded ugly purple pumas, and you hate how you like that he wore them.

This is never going to be over, is it?

You know with every fibre of your being that you shouldn’t.

But, fuck.

You want to.

You really, really want to.

“Don’t you feel bad?” you ask, hoping that at least Joe will confirm that you’re not overreacting.

You should feel bad.

The both of you.

There’s the slightest moment of introspection from Joe that you see across his face before he smiles at your rosy cheeks and goes, “I do. But not... not about this. What does it matter if I want to go and have a drink with you? Hmm? Who cares about that?”

Well.

Probably that girl that slammed the door of his flat yesterday. And, you also kind of hope that he cares, but it’s difficult to sort through and articulate your thoughts and feelings about that in the moment.

“Do you feel bad?” Joe asks, a hand reaching over to touch you on the arm.

“I feel terrible...” you admit on a heavy exhale. You also feel sweaty and sticky and gross.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yea, well... you should be. Because it’s your fault,” you show the slightest of smiles and fall back into step. “And because your shoes are ugly.”

Joe watches you walk away for a bit, trying to wrap his head around it. Around you. Finds that he was right before: he just wants to be near you, still.

He just wants to be near you always, actually.

He’s lucky you’ve got the same issue.

It’s why you let Joe into your flat.

Why the first thing you do when you get in is make Joe a coffee since he was so adamant about having some.

When he sees that you’re not making yourself a cup, he goes and does it for you. Makes you the perfect cup of coffee, exactly how you like it, and you have to really hide how giddy that makes you feel. Can’t give away how that means something to you. So instead, you make him laugh when, in lieu of sugar, you slide a salt shaker across the table, just because you think Joe needs to know that he’s welcome here, but that he’s not really... welcome here.

“You’re so annoying, my God.” Joe shakes his head, fondness practically dripping from the words as he smiles. He’ll make you a million more cups of coffee if it means you’ll make him laugh like that.

In turn, you laugh at jokes Joe makes about you going for your shower, telling you that you must be exhausted and he’ll gladly help out and hold you up. You know, no big deal, even though he remembers that your shower is small and barely fits two people in.

“We’ll just have to stand really close together.” you quip, joining the bit.

“It will be so awkward for me, but I’ll self-sacrfice, not a problem.”

You laugh together, and Joe drinks the coffee you made for him, and you drink the coffee that he made for you. There’s a moment of silence before you semi-seriously say, “I’m really not meant to have you over.”

It’s complicated. It’s fine, but it’s not.

“Yea... you probably shouldn’t. You’re right.” Joe flirts. “You’re right.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting though...” you sigh, leaning back in your seat. “We’re not to be trusted, I don’t think...”

Joe eyes you for a short moment, then leans forward a little and carefully says, “You’re allowed to set your expectations aside every once in a while, you know... we can just enjoy our time. Nothing wrong with that.”

You can’t help but smile, because the sentiment is sweet, but unfortunately, it doesn’t really work like that. Before you know it, you’ll be back right where you were before, kicking yourself over placing yourself back in that same crappy situation.

A grimacing discontented nose-scrunch does all the talking for you.

“All right,” Joe says on the back-end of a sigh, slapping both legs as he gets up, already heading towards the door. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

You put an arm out and get a handful of his sleeve before he gets even close to leaving, and Joe turns his head to grin at you like you’d played directly into his trap.

Which, you probably just had done.

Had been doing.

“Oh?” Joe startles playfully. “Am I wanted, then?”

The handful of shirt gets pulled into your direction until Joe’s standing really close, and you have to tip your head back all the way to look up at him.

“Do you want to hear me say that I want you?” you challenge his neediness as one of his hands finds your cheek. You know exactly that’s what he wants to hear.

“Is that hard for you?” he challenges your obduracy right back, thumb softly rubbing the skin under your eye, knowing full well how hard of a time you have with sharing your feelings in the moment.

It’ll never be lost on you how there’s so little you can hide from one another. It’s comforting in the most perilous of ways.

It helps that Joe is very upfront about his wants. He’s in your living room for a reason, which makes it a little easier to admit to a truth you can no longer deny.

You wouldn’t have invited him over if you didn’t want him here.

Obviously.

It’s a big ask to set expectations aside in the long-term, but in the short-term, temptation and comfort always seem to win all too easily. Hence the handfull of fabric you’re still holding.

That doesn’t meant that Joe deserves the satisfaction of hearing you say that, though.

“No.” you smile, eyes casting downwards. “But… do you want to know what is hard for me?”

Without any hesitation, you let your hand find the bulge in his jeans, and Joe flinches at the contact, his other hand immediately around your wrist to control your next move, grip tight, like he’s using it to not lose his balance.

“Don’t.”

With his eyes shut, he exhales a slow breath.

“Oh?” your eyebrows shoot up in the same way his had done earlier. “Am I wrong, then?”

Joe has to bite back a smile, and there’s a moment where you’re just staring each other down, your hand touching growing parts of Joe, and his hand keeping it right in place. It’s hard for him to look away from your eyes and the sparkle they look at him with.

It’s a big ask to set expectations aside... when you haven’t really got any to begin with.

Joe’s voice comes out a little gruff when he says, “How about that shower?” all lowly, giving a slight nod up in question as he bites into his bottom lip.

The only way out seems through.

But, just before you give in all over again, something pipes up in your mind that turns you solemn. Something Joe said the night before.

“You um...” you swallow thickly and slowly remove your hand from Joe’s jeans. “You said we weren’t the best, before...”

This dance between heartfelt earnestness and teasing banter is becoming a little confusing, but, to be fair, everything about you and Joe is confusing.

Joe’s hand on your cheek is warm, and you let the words you’d just said linger. Let them speak for themselves. You haven’t asked Joe a question that needs an answer, but you wait for him to figure out what you mean all by himself.

Why should you go have a shower with Joe if he doesn’t think you’re good together? If things can’t be better than before?

“Before...” Joe repeats and then slowly lowers himself next to your chair and leans on a knee so he’s more at eye-level with you. He’s choked with tenderness for you, especially when you look like this, not unlike what you looked like when you barged into his flat a night ago. “Before, yea. But that was–...”

Then.

This is now.

Joe’s hand is still on your face, his steady touch unmoving, but now his fingers curl under your jaw and around your ear, and it burns your skin. You want to allow yourself to enjoy the gentle touch, but you can’t. Shouldn’t. Your wants are too risky.

Anxiety swells and you can feel how your fingers are searching out a bit of fabric to run along, but you’re not wearing long sleeves. It’s why your next question comes out all choppy.

“Will it b-be different?”

Your question implies a whole lot. Implies a want for something new. For something better. Something different. And, perhaps most terrifyingly, it implies a want for something together.

You think if Joe is going to be completely honest with you, he should tell you no. However, logically, you also understand there’s a current heavy throbbing in his underwear that might influence things slightly.

Still.

You want to hear his answer.

Want to know what he’s really doing here.

What his expectations are.

Joe can’t predict the future. But you desperately want him to.

“It can be.”

Instant disappointment.

In Joe, and within yourself.

It can be.

It’s the most non-committal answer Joe could’ve given. It’s guarded. Evasive. Without clear indication or attitude of feeling.

You hate it.

But then you watch as he slowly grabs hold of one of your hands and guides it to the sleeve hem of the hoodie he is wearing where your fingers immediately find home and rub to their hearts content. It’s embarrassing how your shoulders instantly relax.

Joe clears his throat, cradling your face in both of his hands now, and adds, “It should be.” which he makes sound like a promise.

It should be.

It should be because you are both older and wiser and have learnt lessons and have grown. It should be because you are new people, with old habits but with new intentions.

It should be because you really want it to be.

It should be because Joe is really going to try.

That’s all you want.

All you need.

It should be makes you whine and drop your head fully into Joe’s hold.

It should be has you accept Joe’s lips that press firmly against yours.

It should be allows you to be picked up and lead over to your bathroom where you both undress at lightning speed.

It should be has you under the stream before the water’s even fully warmed up, standing really close together, and not just because the shower’s small.

Emily’s absolutely going to kill you.

But she’s allowed.

She can murder both you and Joe together, and you’ll continue doing what you’re doing right now in whatever the afterlife even is until the end of time itself.

Time can stop, for all you care.

Joe touches you in the shower until your legs can quite literally no longer carry you, and then Joe touches you in your bed until every single cell of your body is violently shaking in pure delight.

It should be different.

It will be different.

And different starts right fucking now.

“I love you.”

Joe pants the words heavily into your skin. Into your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. Wants them to settle there and never leave. He seals them in with kisses, and repeats mumbling praise that he hopes will cling onto you for a while as well.

You’re convinced he’s just saying things because it feels right in the moment. Because he wants to prove to you that he’s right.

You lay together, bodies on top of each other, and it takes longer than feels normal to come back down from what you’ve just done. Joe holds you in place on top of him, both his hands wrapped around your arms, and when you try to move, when you try to let yourself slide off and fall onto the mattress next to him, he only further strengthens his grip.

“I love you.” He then says more clearly, and he sounds like he’s admitting it to himself just as much as he is to you. Like it’s something that he needs to hear himself articulate more than it’s something that you might need to hear.

It’s unbelievable that he’s here, right now.

He fully thought you’d be done with him by now, yet, here you are, wanting more of him. Different. Yes. But more all the same.

“Love you, love you, love you.” Joe punctuates with kisses.

Joe finds that he’s still as full of emotion for you as he was when you were still together, but there’s a huge difference in voicing it. In saying things aloud for other people to hear.

For you to hear.

“Yea,” you smile, tickled by the tone of Joe’s repeated confession, convinced you’ve pulled the words straight from his dick. “Yea you do.”

There’s no way Joe is thinking with his brain right now.

A soft scoff comes from him before he tries his best to sound like a schoolteacher as he demands, “Say it back.”

You huff a laugh to that, still feeling a little floaty and too far gone for a coherent response. All you can think about is how Joe’s still inside of you, and how he is keeping you there.

Then one of his hands lets you go, but is quickly followed by a well-aimed poke to your side that has you squirming. Joe remembers all your vulnerable spots, knows exactly where they are, fucking dick.

“Say it back! Say, I love you too, Joe.”

In your giggling, you manage to sit up a little and glare down at Joe, but you’re smiling, which completely ruins the effect, and it turns him a little soft inside. You then lean back down a little and give him a peck by his ear which serves to shut Joe up.

He decides it’s enough of an answer, close enough to an I love you said in return. He knows you do, anyway.

In your next move, you snuggle into him, cheek rubbing into his skin, and, fuck, Joe’s done for.

“Yea… yea, you love me too.”

“Shut up.” You whisper, giggles stuck in the back of your throat that you try your best to contain, ones that Joe lets out easily.

“Too bad you’re so annoying.”

“Yea.” You squeeze Joe tighter and let your teeth scrape the skin of his chest. “I’m the worst.”

There’s no phone buzzing on the bedroom floor.

There’s no other people hiding in a different room in your flat.

No... Jessicas, or whatever. No Jaspers.

You’re in the centre of your bed together, no sides picked or chosen, and the temperature inside reflects neither icy Antarctica nor the Amazon rainforest.

It should be different.

Better.

It already is.

Are you risking making the same mistakes all over again? Yes. Are you willing to still go ahead and give this a try? Also yes.

“Will you stay?” Joe quietly asks, silently and warily bringing up how vulnerable he felt when you broke it all off months ago.

You move your head to look him in the eye for a second.

“I should.” you whisper back, reassuring you in same way Joe had reassured you.

“Will you stay?” you repeat Joe’s question, but know what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth.

One of his hands snakes around to hold you by the back of your neck.

“I will.”

the end

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @cowboymcflurry

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@emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby

@gri959, @hanahkatexo, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns

@keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @loves0phelia, @mandyjo8719

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@tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @witchwolflea, @xxladymjxx, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, apologies!

[effetsecndaires]

࿐ 𝙘𝙖𝙢! — 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚; 𝙜𝙮𝙪𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙤 𝙨. ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.

cw: modern setting, human gyutaro, camgirl reader, sex work, mention of sex, masturbation, hygiene neglect, misogyny, toxic masculinity, inaccurate description of onlyfans bc I have no idea how it works lmao | wc; 2,4k

an: im so sorry this chapter took so long to come out. I needed a break from this fic because I honestly have no idea where it's going and it’s started to feel like I’m just writing a whole bunch of nothing. I have never been good at writing multiple parts fics and idk why I thought this time would be different LMAO. I’m aiming to wrap it up in 2 or 3 more chapters, but I can’t promise anything :( Read on AO3

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2

Scan. Total. Change. Repeat.

Every beep of the scanner feels like a tiny jab at Gyutaro’s sanity. Groceries slide across the counter in a boring parade of the usual—cereal boxes, milk cartons, bags of apples.

His eyes glaze over as he watches the belt crawl forward, the monotony broken only by the occasional odd item: a rubber chicken, some miniature plastic hands or a single box of condoms.

But even these quirks barely stir his interest anymore.

It’s hard to keep up when the minutes drag like hours, when his back aches from standing too long, when his feet beg for a break but the clock refuses to cooperate. The endless line of customers blends into a blur of faces, each one as disengaged as he feels. A forced tight smile, a quick "Have a nice day," and then it’s back to the loop.

Scan. Total. Change. Repeat.

Even his shifts at the bar don't give him so much headache. It’s busy, it’s loud, he often has to break up fights, but it’s never dull. There’s always something new happening, and it’s a lot more exciting than the same old groceries sliding across the counter every day.

Right now, though? What he really wants is a moment of peace.

Normally, he’d be counting down the last twenty minutes until clocking out, but not tonight. He's asked to stay longer— another hour, maybe two. As much as his body screams for rest, rent won’t pay itself and the thought of an empty fridge waiting for him at home is enough to keep him going.

So he pushes through, works his ass off until 10pm and finally clocks out when the sun starts going down. He smokes one last cigarette outside the store, flicks the butt onto the ground then stomps on it, extinguishing the embers under his shoe before he heads toward his bike.

The ride home is quiet, just the hum of the engine as he weaves through the nearly empty roads. It’s a little over a 30-minute drive, but it feels longer when he’s this drained. The cold air helps keep him alert, but by the time he pulls into the lot outside his apartment, all he can think about is crashing into bed.

-

Inside, the place is quiet. Too quiet.

Ume’s not here. He barely registers the note she left on the counter—something about another girl’s night out, don’t wait up. He tosses it aside and heads straight for the fridge, already expecting the worst.

And sure enough, it’s almost empty. A half-empty carton of milk, a few eggs, some questionable leftovers he doesn’t trust enough to reheat. Not much else.

For that reason, he’s thankful for Ume's friends. They’re the type of people who insist on paying for everyone’s dinner without a second thought, perks of having rich friends. It’s a small comfort, knowing she’s cared for in ways he can’t always manage. At least she’s eating better than he is.

With a sigh, Gyutaro grabs a pack of ham from the deli drawer and pulls some (thankfully not moldy) bread from the cabinet. It’s not much, but it’ll do. He throws together a simple sandwich, not even bothering to toast the bread, and eats it standing by the counter. No plate, no effort. Just something to fill the emptiness in his stomach.

He checks his phone then— just a few system notifications staring back at him as usual. A reminder from the weather app about incoming rain, an alert from some forgotten fitness tracker urging him to move, and a low storage warning. Nothing new. Twitter and Instagram are both dry as hell, if not for Tengen’s neverending story that keeps him somewhat entertained for maybe thirty seconds, just long enough to remind him that his life seriously fucking sucks compared to other people’s.

Gyutaro sets the phone face-down on the counter with a dull thunk and rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling a heavy sigh. It’s probably the hundredth one today. The realization almost makes him snort.

He figures he doesn't really have a reason to stay up any longer. Might as well brush his teeth, maybe rinse his face, try to stop the creeping headache from taking over completely and get some well deserved sleep.

He makes a beeline for his room, plugs in his phone with barely a glance before pushing open the bathroom door — only to freeze at the sight waiting for him.

Makeup brushes scattered across the sink. A curling iron still plugged in, its cord snaking dangerously close to a puddle of water. Towels—two of them—crumpled in a soggy heap by the bathtub.

“Fucking hell, Ume.” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How hard is it to clean up after yourself?” he grumbles.

He steps over the chaos, carefully avoiding the puddles, and starts picking up the mess. It’s not his responsibility to pick up after his sister, but he knows that if he leaves it, it’ll be there for at least a couple days.

Once the counter's cleared and the clutter shoved back into place, Gyutaro straightens up slowly. His gaze catches on the mirror and he hesitates, his expression a little more critical than usual. He frowns, grabbing his messy, greasy hair with a slight look of disgust.

He opens the faucet and lets the water run until it's warm, then bends awkwardly over the sink, letting the water soak through his hair. He doesn't use proper shampoo, just a bit of hand soap and scrubs roughly at his scalp, trying to rinse away the worst of it.

It’s a poor substitute for a real shower, he’s well aware of it, but he doesn’t have the energy for anything else. Without Ume around to nag him, to wrinkle her nose dramatically and shove clean clothes at him, it can wait until morning.

So yeah. That'll have to do.

He cleans his hair roughly, brushes his teeth, strips out of his shirt, kicks off his jeans, and leaves them in a heap on the floor. Then he flicks off the bathroom light and trudges to bed, the sheets cool against his skin as he slides under them.

He reaches for his phone again without thinking, the screen lighting up his face in pale blue.

His thumb moves before his brain fully catches up. OnlyFans.

He wastes no time, immediately pulling up your account and sure enough, the brand new ‘erotic audios’ are right here— shoved in his face.

Surprisingly, he doesn't do anything with them at first. Doesn't press play. Doesn't touch himself. He just scrolls through your more modest free content (if lace panties and sheer bras count as modest), mindlessly zooming in on your tits and reading through the comments like it's the local newspaper. There’s a whole thread under one of your mirror selfies debating whether your tits are natural like it’s a scholarly fucking discussion.

Then, Gyutaro pauses, thumb hovering above the screen as a different thought creeps in.

Have you spent his money yet?

He doesn’t know why it matters. It’s not like he can get it back, and getting pissed over you spending the money he handed over would be pathetic. Stupid, even.

It's no longer his money. But the bitter feeling clings to him anyway, wedged somewhere in the back of his mind, like this whole ordeal is somehow your fault.

You're a relatively new content creator after all. He figures the money probably hit your account and vanished just as fast. Rent, maybe. Groceries. Some twisted part of him hopes you spent it on something necessary instead of treating yourself.

The idea of you walking into some store with that cash in your pocket, picking out new lingerie for your streams, or makeup, or even something stupid like fancy clothes—it makes him boil. Gets under his skin badly.

So much that his frustration nearly makes him do the responsible thing. His thumb hovers near the lock button for a fleeting moment, ready to toss the phone aside and pretend he might actually sleep.

It's totally short-lived though, as he almost instantly finds himself sinking further into the mattress, gaze sharpening as he reaches for his earbuds and slips them in easily. Then he starts scrolling again; more deliberately this time, until he finds them.

Four audios, lined up in a neat little row.

“Family gathering."

"Late-Night Confessions"

"Your Little Secret”

"After Hours"

Like you said, the first one’s free. But it's not like it matters to him. He’s already subscribed, already paying for full access like a fucking regular.

Part of him tells him to forget it. He’s tired—bone-deep, the kind that sinks into his limbs and makes even breathing feel like an effort. He doubts he'll even be able to fully get it up tonight. He’s not sure he even wants to touch himself.

But curiosity wins out in the end.

He swallows down the shame and presses play on the first audio. He adjusts his earbuds, the sound of door opening then closing setting the scene.

“Shh, we have to be quiet…”

Your soft giggles fill his ears. Then, kissing sounds.

“What? I can be quiet. If anyone's going to draw attention to us and get us caught, it's you. Don't act like it hasn't happened before.”

There’s another soft, teasing giggle. “I can’t believe you pulled me in here.” You pause, and then, a sound—more kissing, this time hurried, frantic. “Mmm… everyone’s right outside.”

Gyutaro listens carefully. The audio starts mild, with mostly kissing sounds and teasing words. That alone is enough to contradict his earlier thoughts and make his cock harden. He swears under his breath and slips his hand into his boxers, shutting his eyes as he listens.

“We’re gonna get in so much trouble… what if my dad hears?” You sound giddy, almost like you’re smiling against his lips. He begins to stroke his cock slowly, imagining the way you’d look — flushed, your eyes lit up with that mischievous spark.

Another kiss, deeper this time, followed by a muffled moan. “They’re all gonna wonder where we went… but you couldn’t wait, could you?” The sound of your breathing fills the silence, hot and heavy. Then, the distinctive sound of a buckle being undone. Gyutaro's hand continues to work his shaft, his palm gliding over the birthmarks nice and steady, coaxing it to full hardness as he listens intently.

“You’re so bad… sneaking me away like this.” Another wet kiss. “I love it, though. The way you can’t keep your hands off me.” There’s a rustle, like clothes shifting, bodies pressed closer. “Mhh, fuck, You're so big,”.

Then, you let out a small yelp. There's a bit of shuffling, followed by soft laughter. “What are you doing?” The kissing sounds continue as you speak, and Gyutaro has a pretty good idea of what's going to happen next. “You really don't have to, baby.”

A quiet moan slips through the audio, making his cock twitch.

He hears everything—every whimper, every echo of your voice in the cramped space, even the faint, slick sounds that perfectly mirror what he imagines to be his own actions. It sounds real, so real that he can't help but wonder if you're actually getting eaten out, or if you're just that good at making sound effects.

Your moans are breathless and shaky, and you can't seem to form a coherent sentence even if you try. The only words that seem to leave your mouth are a series of shaky gasps, whimpers, and muffled moans of "babe", “right there” and “just like that” over and over again.

Behind his eyelids, Gyutaro pictures himself in a random bathroom with you. Down on his knees, his head between your spread legs while you sit pretty on the counter and his mouth devours your pussy.

His breathing is quickening, shallow and uneven as he picks up the pace, his chest rising and falling with every pump of his hand.

“Fuck.” he grunts to himself as his head presses back into his pillow. His cock is slick with precum, his thumb swiping across the tip, a slow, shaky pass that nearly undoes him—but he holds back. He wants to know what happens next. He wants to cum when you do.

“Mmh yes. You make me feel so good, baby.”

“I'm your good girl. I’m yours.”

“Please—”

His body jerks, hips thrusting upward as he imagines your pleading eyes looking down at him.

“Don’t stop—”

Then it hits him. His vision blurs, everything going white as his orgasm hits, his release spilling over his hand and stomach in thick spurts. His jaw clenches, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat as he rides the aftershocks. His toes curl, his legs twitch, and for a fleeting moment everything else fades away—no worries, no guilt, just pure, blinding ecstasy.

Afterwards, he just lies there breathless, the silence in his room overwhelming, broken only by the faint rush of blood pulsing in his ears and the relentless tick of the clock above his door. Slowly, the fog in his mind clears, and reality settles back in.

He wipes his hand on his boxers, the satisfaction fading much quicker than he’d like, giving way to that stupid post-orgasm clarity which always leaves him feeling gross.

His hand trembles slightly as it reaches for the lighter and cigarettes on the nightstand, fingers grazing over the clutter—empty beer cans, crumpled tissues, the usual mess he never bothers to clean. He pulls one out and flicks the wheel once, twice, three times before the lighter finally ignites. The flame catches the edge of the cigarette and he pulls the smoke deep into his lungs, letting it drift from his lips with a slow, tired exhale.

Gyutaro isn't sure how long he lies there, eyes unfocused as the minutes drag by in silence. Eventually though, something tugs at the edge of his awareness and his gaze starts to shift— slowly, almost reluctantly— back to the laptop that's still open on his desk, the screen dimmed but not dark.

He stares for a moment before letting out another long exhale of smoke.

Fuck it.

To: VelvetVixen

Subject: 250$ tip

hi,

i’’m glad you enjoyed the tip… I’m not sure what to ask for though. I guess I’d be happy if you just acknowledged me in the chat and said my name

take care,

gyutaro

Sent: 00:27 AM

[astralis-ortus]

love, am i home?

✱ bestfriend!bc × gn!reader

— how can you tell it's not simply an infatuation?

w.count → 0.6k genre → angst, one-sided love warnings → minor cussing, mention of alcohol but no described consumption a.n → honestly i don't even know what i wrote i am feeling feelings soooo yeah! also, there's a few mentions of bambam as the home owner lol ⋆ see masterlist

“do you reckon i’ll fall in love someday?’

chan’s odd, unprovoked question nearly made you choke on the strawberry-lychee juice you were trying so hard to savor. worse, your heart also took a hit from it—which, frankly, you should have been preparing yourself for from the day you realized that your hiking heart bpm whenever chan was sitting a little too close was not exactly a normal reaction between friends.

“yeah,” you barely managed to quip a reply, setting your half-empty paper cup on the coffee table across the tan leather couch before chan could send another unwarranted hit on your poor heart. “i mean, didn’t you have a few relationships before?”

well fuck—now he’s going to elaborate, isn’t he. good job, dumbass.

sometimes you wonder why you’re trying so hard to be a good friend when you do realize it will only further tighten the chains wrapped around your chest. does bambam have some alcohol in the fridge? also, where the fuck is he?

“fair point,” a long sigh escaped his lungs as chan fully leaned onto bambam’s ridiculously large sofa, eyes tracing whatever interesting shape he could find on the ceiling of their still-missing friend’s apartment, “but i wonder if those feelings were actually… love, you know? not merely infatuation?”

“i don’t, actually,” you playfully snickered, hoping the faint smile on your lips would help in numbing the dull ache spreading on your chest. “i mean, as far as my experience goes, i think it has always been love for me.”

“and how does that feel?”

“how?” the faint urgency in his voice pulled your line of gaze towards chan—unexpectedly meeting his pair of curious brown eyes, and you sighed. are you really going to say it?

you were preparing a joke, really. deflecting, avoiding his question, all that thing.

you really were.

and you know, with every part of your bones, you’re probably going to regret this.

“uh, well, it feels like…”

the butterflies when i see your name lit up my phone screen.

the odd twist in the pit of my stomach when i hear you talk about that new friend you made and how you thought they were beautiful.

the way my lips followed yours into a smile when you excitedly told me about a new song idea and how spring flooded my chest when you said it’s our little secret.

the sudden void when you told me you asked that new friend of yours to go out for dinner, and how my heart went numb when you brightly exclaimed that it would technically count as a first date.

an excruciatingly long roller coaster of emotions,

an endless hike under the scorching summer sun,

a long night staring at where the waves breaks,

and yet…

“it was home.”

“…home?”

“yeah,” you shrugged, fingers hiding inside the sleeves of your hoodie while you pull your knees closer to your chest, “home.”

“it’s everything that is good, everything that’s not quite there, and yet you can’t help but find yourself longing for every piece of it. you accept that it’s not going to be perfect and never will be, and yet you’re still willing to continuously nurture that feeling because, well, you love them, and even if it eventually didn’t work out… you’d still think it’s worth the effort to try.”

you don’t know what the silence between you now meant.

you don’t know, and probably would never want to find out.

you’d hate to know who he thinks about when he opens his mouth,

and you’d forever thank bambam for his impeccable timing with bags full of thai foods in his hand.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[fandomfluffandfuck]

ngl the way sebastian's hair looked at the american cinematheque event is what i would imagine it to look like after he gives head like it's all messy and disheveled & he's all glassy eyed & buzzing bc of the praise like oof i have some thoughts on thisss

related to this (also in gif form)

Liz 👏🏻 you're 👏🏻 so 👏🏻 fucking 👏🏻 right 👏🏻

It's the perfect kind of disheveled 😮‍💨😮‍💨 driving me absolutely insane because it's all I can think about since those photos first dropped

Like, just imagine--

The glittering, golden remnants of Chris' sinful praise still rings in Sebastian's ears even after Chris has long since stopped talking, filling the space instead with a whole lot of quiet, shallow panting. Nothing coherent. He's catching his breath after having it kicked--rather, more aptly sucked--from him.

All his praise is a honed dager slicing into Sebastian, cutting him into peices with arousal; lust flowing and flowing from the sharp-edged blade in until he's bleeding arousal out, too, not just rushing heat in his veins but outside his body, too, through the throbbing, perfect wound Chris leaves him with. Sebastian wishes he'd plunge deeper and twist. It feels so fucking good.

His words are always heavy, almost as titillating as touching itself--hands caressing, sliding, groping.

Chris had been saying lot of words, all of them cut through with groans and gasping swears about his "fuckin' mouth," and how "yes, yes, ohmygod, Seb, baby, that feels s'good," 'cause he's "too talented" at taking Chris' dick down his throat. Humming around it, swallowing, licking, and sucking when he can--when he's not just being used with it.

Pounded by it.

Deep.

Yeah, Jesus Christ, Sebastian's ears are ringing. And arousal and need still pollute his body along with the praise, opened by Chris' intrusion.

He's got more than that, too. It's an onslaught of sensation inside him. Nerves crackling, warmed enough to spit.

His knees ache, and so does his jaw. His eyes are glassy, leaving him to stumble through the blurry interior of their house, trying to fumble his way on watery knees to their bathroom, and, oh, somewhere, at some stretch of the hallway, it comes to his dulled attention that he's breathing harder than he thought he was.

Too, his body suddenly calls attention to his mouth. He was, abstractly, thinking of it and feeling it already, seeing as he's just been using it to tempt a rushing, tumbling orgasm from his boyfriend, but... It's less about his throat now. He was feeling it in his throat before. A little raw. A lot stretched. Now, he's oh-so aware of his lips. He doesn't need to see them to know that they're swollen, red, and wet. His crackling nerves can tell him that.

When he licks them, they're sensitive, all buzzing and tender, from the obscene abuse of being nothing but a hole for Chris to plunder. Ruin.

Sebastian shivers, sinking down an inch against the hallway wall before pulling himself together enough to stagger another step forward. His breathing is hard, jagged. If it were cold enough, he'd see big, heavy clouds of it hanging in front of his face. Jesus. Swallowing just makes every step harder. There's nothing he wants more than to give into the whimpering, neediest part of him that insists in his mind, throwing a fit, that he turn his ass right back around and crawl back to Chris. He wants him in his mouth again right now. He's too empty. He has so much cold, dull space in his mouth that could be hot and wet and full.

Fuck.

Chris should know better than to lay around their home in sweatspants with nothing on underneath, no matter if it's laundry day or not. Further, he should especially know not to do it on a day when Sebastian has a pre-determined, non-negotiable deadline for when he has to leave the house to go to an event he has to be there for. Sebastian isn't to blame! No way. It's not his fault. It's not a weak rebuttal. Nope. It's perfectly logical reaction--natural, even.

When Chris is manspreading, Sebastian loses all capability of looking ahead for possible consequences of sating his oral fixation. There is suddenly nothing but that need. His mouth: empty. Chris Evans: right there for the having. Filling. Who wouldn't lose it? Who, if they don't already have an oral fixation, wouldn't develop one from having regular, fantastic sex with none other than Christopher Robert Evans?

Another handful of not-straight steps journeying into the bathroom allows Sebastian the luxury of enough working braincells to try and straight his clothes, plucking and tugging them back into some kind of order, metaphorically dusting himself off after spending ten maybe fifteen minutes on their clean (other than the dog hair) living room floor. As he rearranges his clothes, Seb finds himself sure that the tell-all of his debauched, unable-to-be-helped behavior will be the line of his very erect cock pressing against his slacks and tenting them. That, or, it'll be the swollen, reddened pillows of his lips after being stretched around Chris' perfect, hard, fuckin' thick shaft, worshipping it the way it deserves. But--

Actually, wobbling into the bathroom on his fawn-like legs and pressing himself flat to the back of the door for some semblance of stability, and then turning his head to meet himself in the mirror, huh, he finds that the confession-giver is his hair.

The mop of his brown hair, previously styled to be slicked back, neat and out of his face, has been just as thoroughly defiled as the rest of him feels.

It's sticking up everywhere, obviously, thoroughly, gloriously fucked-up by none other than Chris Evans big... strong... thick hands. Hands that're good for petting... good for pulling... good for slapping... good for too many unspeakably filthy actions that cause Sebastian's tratorious fucking mouth to water embarrassingly. He can literally feel his salivary glands working. Tingling.

At the same time that he flushes with the sizzling hunger rising to the back of his throat, Seb realizes his reflection is gawking, mouth open.

He shuts his mouth with an audible click.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He sways forward, hands planting themselves palm-down on the counter top, leaning in harder, head hanging a little lower, just trying to fucking keep it together. Keep himself together. He can do this. He can gather himself enough to not look like an absolute slutty mess, discombobulated and spacey, when wandering outside. He needs a head on his shoulders to answer questions and to speak to fans. He, for once, won't look so lost. He'll, he's... he'll, yeah, he'll just splash some water on his face. Just. He immediately, desperately has to think of anything but Chris' fucking hands and how much he wants them pulling his hair and biting at his waist, bruising him with his fingertips, prying him open and writing his name inside him.

He, like, has to go. Now. Or he'll never leave. And he's already spent too long drifting--fantasizing with his eyes open about everything Chris can do to him, all the ways he cuts him open and lavishes him with pleasure--letting his thoughts carry him far, far away from the bathroom. So, Christ, now, he doesn't even have time to re-style his hair.

Chris is terrible, though, because he has no sympathy for Sebastian's absolute peril. He just chuckles, voice low, lips stretched in a lazy, handsome grin as he watches Seb stumble out the door, nearly forgetting his wallet and keys, from beneath heavy eyelids.

It's not his fault!

It's Chris'!

Love that I wasn't going to write anything for this, just a quick paragraph or two, and then it turned into that, haha. I just can't stop myself 😏

[mirainikki]

i just realized that i'm masking. i've been doing so for the past few years now. when i'm masking, i do my hardest to pretend to be a normal human being. i smile and laugh and talk and joke and do my best to come off as friendly and likeable. in reality, i don't feel anything. i'm quite apathetic towards everything. my emotions are dull. they might as well be considered non-existent. i don't feel sadness, nor happiness, nor anger or even love. yet i know i can love. take my parents for example. i know i love and care for them. i just don't feel that emotion. i don't even know what it's like to feel that emotion. it's just emptiness inside of me. it's frightening.

there are times when the mask slips, when i actually feel something. during those times, emotions feel... unreal? i'll feel happiness or sadness, but i'll start dissociating. the times when i feel actual emotion... my body immediately triggers a flight response. these emotions must be fake or dangerous, therefore it's time to start viewing everything as though you're watching thru a video recording! very funny. maybe that's why my emotions are dulled. to prevent myself from dissociating. a trauma response perhaps. or maybe i'm dissociating bc my body isn't used to feeling genuine emotions. i don't know.

i don't know what's wrong with me. i just know that it's a truly awful thing to experience. i mask bc i don't really feel anything. but i don't like being like this. i wish i were normal. i want to experience emotions like a regular human being. i'm scared that i'm unable to anymore.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hi Mbti-notes, hope you’re doing well. I’m an INTP who sent you an ask a few days ago that I wanted to retract. I think I was in denial a bit when I wrote it so it wasn’t very clear. The issue is, I’ve recently moved from a small, very good private school (where I’ve been for my whole life) to a large, diverse coed state school. I was so excited about the move when I got in to the school, but now I regret it.

The thing is, I have almost no sense of identity. I do things (like homework) bc I get positive validation from teachers. Even though intellectually I value hard work and I admire ppl who can speak eloquently and are sharp, I don’t know how to make myself emotionally care about schoolwork without this, so I don’t do it. When I have friends, I steal their interests and copy their mannerisms and expressions and ways of looking at life. I feel so dull and empty inside without someone to almost give me life and a personality. And I’m realizing all the things I took as constants about myself (hardworking, intelligent, sociable to a degree) were just products of my environment. Even down to the fact that I can’t listen to music anymore bc there’s nobody to discuss it with so it feels pointless.

It’s probably worth mentioning that I used to define myself as capable, but I’ve been having bad brain fog (a dietician’s helping me solve it) so I can’t really read or learn things which I used to enjoy a lot, and my memory is absolutely terrible. I feel super spaced out and derealised most of the time.

And on top of this, I went to a school where the lesson quality was very high and I was with ppl who were bright if a bit apathetic. Now I’m with people who haven’t had the same upbringing I’ve had or the same educational quality. The lessons in this school are also more of a lecture type, teach yourself the material, and I’m not as sharp as I used to be so it’s difficult. I wanted to leave my school to meet new people from different backgrounds but I can’t relate to any of them, and I would be able to if I stopped resisting but I’m scared I’m going to lose myself in the process. I think my academic standards might subtly be slipping (even in a less conscious way) and I don’t know what to do.

If I had my wits about me I’d be working harder to keep my grades up, but I’m so tired and demoralized because when I go into school I feel so out of place and like I’ve made a mistake. I can’t stop comparing it to the way things were at my old school, or at my twin sister’s private school (she made the right choice and I didn’t). I’m aware this is partly a sign of Si loop and I should stop indulging it, but my memory is terrible and if I don’t remember and keep thinking about the past, how can I define myself clearly? I don’t know myself at all, and I’ve only ever defined myself by my past actions but other than that I feel so hollow inside.

I have to stick it out at this school so any perspective you have on this would be welcomed (and pls disregard my previous ask!). Thank you :)

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

(1) Function Problems: Many people make the mistake of choosing only one of the past, present, or future to use for defining their "identity". However, the three are equally important since they are inextricably intertwined.

The past contains all of the significant life experiences that have made you the unique person you are at present. The present is where you make the vital decisions about who you will become in the future. And the future gives you the direction needed to make decisions right now that best build upon all you've achieved in the past.

Unhealthy Si means misinterpreting the importance of the past. Type development requires you to learn how to use functions optimally and appropriately. There are times when it's appropriate to draw upon past experience and there are times when it's inappropriate. There are times when leaning too heavily on the past becomes an impediment to your daily functioning and future growth.

The past only influences the present when you allow it to. Right now, you are unhappy because you are having difficulty adjusting to a new environment. When people are unhappy, they are prone to emotional reasoning, which means selectively gathering "evidence" that only serves to confirm and escalate negative emotions.

Some of that "evidence" can come from the past, in terms of using a mythologized past to make unfavorable comparisons of the present. What this means is that your perception of the present is biased and flawed. You are not giving objective and fair consideration to the new environment on its own merits but denigrating it merely because it doesn't meet your subjective expectations.

This logical fallacy can seep into many situations. For example, if you meet a new person who physically resembles a person you once knew, you can't help expecting their personality to be the same too. Or, if you've eaten at many restaurants of a particular cuisine, you'll expect a new restaurant to live up to the previous ones you've enjoyed. A personal example: I once watched a beautiful fireworks display with a friend, but the only comment they could make was that it wasn't as nice as a previous display they'd seen in another city.

What do these examples teach you? Emphasizing the past to an unhealthy degree can lead to problems such as: detachment from reality; inability to live in and appreciate the present as is; a jaded attitude that compulsively recasts everything sublime as mundane.

You say you want "perspective" but unhealthy Si really does NOT want perspective because it is heavily invested in sameness. Unhealthy Si is looking for any excuse to justify giving up and resigning oneself to the predictability of the status quo. Predictability is where Si shines, so why give up that glory by changing oneself and inviting unpredictability?

However, when you go around expecting the world to always conform with what you already know, what you're really doing is condemning yourself to living a life of boring monotony. Is that really what you want? If it is, that's your choice and it should be respected, though you should ask yourself whether you are truly NP.

If monotony doesn't appeal to you, then you have to readjust your vision. You have to appreciate that change is a necessity to be welcomed and embraced because, without it, there is no longer any possibility for betterment. This is why healthy Ne is the salve to dysfunctional Si.

NPs are often admired for their ability to look for silver linings and capitalize on them. Would you believe that many NPs have basically said to me that there's no such thing as "a bad decision", that life is what you make of it? A few have even said that they like to immerse themselves in a "bad" environment because it gives them a chance to exercise ingenuity to thrive in it? Where is this Ne spirit in you? I can't answer that for you. You have to look within and bring it out.

(2) Motivation Problems: You lack intrinsic motivation. I have explained this topic many times, so browse previous posts. You keep waiting around for someone/something to compel you into action, which means you are mainly extrinsically motivated. This is similar to the mentality of a spoiled child who expects the world to cater to their every need.

People who are only extrinsically motivated often miss out on opportunities to develop inner strength of character. Unfortunately, having nothing of substance within, they are ultimately shallow people. And living a shallow life amounts to living a meaningless life.

Oftentimes, when people claim to be "empty" or that life seems "meaningless", what they're really saying is that they have no values to rely upon. What is a human being without values? It basically means nothing is important. When nothing is important, then nothing is worth doing. When nothing is worth doing, then life isn't worth living, is it?

The essence of humanity is found in human values. What does it mean to "value" something? For example:

To value is to appreciate something for its inherent worth. Do you see the worth in anything, or do you only see how everything is worthless to you?

To value is to cherish something for all its positive aspects. Do you look for the positive, or do you seek out the negative because it feels good to confirm your negative feelings and beliefs?

To value is to care about something enough that you want to nurture its continued existence. Do you even care enough about yourself to work hard for a better quality of life?

To value is to love something so deeply that you'd make a personal sacrifice to save it. Do you love anything? If not, how can you act in the best interests of anything, including your future self?

To value is to have a heart and use it as a guide when interacting with the world. Living without a heart, can one call oneself human? If you want to feel like a whole and well-rounded human being, then you have to stop being unduly critical (unhealthy Ti) and actively learn to look for things to love in life (healthy Fe). The possibility of finding beauty exists in every time and place. The question is whether you can open your eyes to see it and open your heart to feel it.

It's easy to sit back and complain about what's "wrong", in fact, it's a comfortable place to be because you can believe in the lie of your own superiority. If you're happy in that bubble, then stay there. If you're not happy there, then get up and seek out positive things and build upon them, and live a life that makes the world brighter. It's a much more difficult but also a much more meaningful way to live.

Nobody can make you care. Caring is a choice you make by yourself, for yourself because you understand the preciousness of life, the shortness of your time on earth, and the necessity of making the most out of the inner and outer resources you've been gifted.

[drksanctuary]

@everythingwasalreadypicked ‘s idea about Al losing his powers really got my mind juices flowing this morning:

Like Zues wouldn’t even do it personally. Facing off with some messenger of Zues (maybe hermes) in an alleyway bc he's making too much trouble.:

Alabaster Torrington and the Magic Thief:

Alabaster hadn’t expected to be cornered by a messenger of Olympus. Let alone Hermes himself,: Luke and Chris’s dad. THE messenger of Olympus.

Now really isn’t the time. He’s already feeling touchy and the last thing he wants is to be jumped by an enemy in an alleyway. But if it’s a fight he wants it’s a fight he’ll get. Alabaster attacks him with a charged hand, aiming for his chest.

Hermes ducks out of the way.Al Had anticipated this and he quickly turns directing his momentum to where the god went.

Hermes is almost surprised. But his winged feet are still too quick. He dodges the second blow, grabbing Al by the nape of his neck and slamming him into the wall.

Al grunts and struggles against the gods grip but he can’t escape.

“Sorry about this kid” Hermes says.

Al feels Hermes take something but he doesn't see what it is. He can't believe it. Olympians really are a divine mafia and he was getting fucking mugged?!.

Hermes lets go,his face a concerned frown.

Al spins on him with a snarl. He holds up his hand to charge another magic blast to hurl at the god. But nothing happens.

Al looks at his hand which is inexplicably empty. No green light coalescing in his palm, the runes on his shirt stay dormant.

He whips out one his cards gives it a double tap and then chucks it. It impotently floats to the floor, like a paper airplane caught in a wind. He tries another card, and then another and then he gets to the sword, which doesn't come out when he prompts it. Nothing is working.

"What the-" alabaster stutters, panic setting in before logic "what did you do to me?!"

Hermes' face remains a frown. "I'm…really sorry" he says and then flashes away.

The realization creeps up on him slowly, like a winter chill without wind. The world ...looks different. He can't feel its energy...the mist...it's just....gone. He tries not to hyperventilate but then a reminder sparks in his mind. He bolts to his safe house.

The runes that usually thrum with energy are silent and dull. He can't feel or hear them, but that's a passing fear.

He bursts through the door and looks around, breaths heavy and sporadic. He first goes to the study, then the kitchen, the bedroom. Empty.

"No..." Alabaster says, "no it can't..." He goes to the living room and opens the small tin that holds his most valuable possessions. Inside is an index card with the outline of a man. Alabaster places it on the table and taps it twice then looks around.Nothing happens. He does it again and Again. nothing…no one.

He slumps against the couch...he'd never felt so defeated. "No” he chokes back a sob “c-Claymore?" He asks into the still air. No response. He is,once more, painfully...utterly...alone.

Yup

I had to keep this angst in my head all day. AT WORK!

Hope you enjoyed 💕

[elizais]

elizai what do you think about the book cover of no longer human? the pink one with the black silhouette?

ARgh thank you for sending this!! one thing everyone will come to learn about me is i love analysing this type of stuff.

also i giggle when i see the cover because one time in an english lesson like 2 years ago my teacher was yapping on about how book covers have to reflect the mood of the book and she said, "for example, you won't have a sad book with a hot pink cover." and i had no longer human on my desk and she had read it bcs she runs my school's library and she bought it for me and it was my moment to shine by proving her WRONG!! she is my bff though

okay i'll do it now!

no real spoilers, i just talk about how the MC feels but if u have watched bsd with your eyes open and know a little about dazai you will get the jist of what i'm talking about.

OKAY! initially, you need to state the obvious. which is it is a human-like black figure on a hot pink background. that is essentially it. but !!! if u saw what i said about like those bsd scenes on that one reblog you know i love colour symbolism!!

so: hot pink: "playful, sociable, optimism, amusing/humorous" and if you have read the book, you know that yozo oba takes up a personality of entertaining others through his actions during his school days. attempting to be a "class clown" type. i don't own a copy of the book but if i did i would pull up quotes TRUST!!

so (younger) yozo does seem to represent these characteristics - maybe not optimism but that is up to reader's interpretation in my opinion.

but the interesting part of the cover is the figure. it takes the shape of a person, roughly at least, yet isn't defined enough. its torso is quite large in proportion to the head, the shoulders curve too easily..

and the title is "no longer human", and yozo doesn't feel human. if you are only familiar with fictional dazai, he is loosely based off of yozo oba. once you read the book, you will pick up similarities between them consistently.

but yozo doesn't feel human, so that figure on the front is just that. a figure, a symbol of the emptiness he feels inside. he knows that physically he is human, which is why as a consumer we can see that the figure resembles something like us, but he doesn't let his soul feel that way.

possibly, the torso is so disproportionate compared to the head because he is harbouring the loneliness, longing and the rest of his dull emotions within.

may i also add, we can just see these recognisable parts of a human which is how yozo feels. you can tell he is a human physically but not emotionally. as an audience, you do not form any attachment to the person on the cover as there just.. isn't much to see? which is why whoever designed it done such a good job with it. granted, i am probably thinking about this much more than they did but it is truly a fantastic cover.

as i write this, i am kicking myself for not having a copy of the book with me because i would be able to write much more for you! i do love writing analyses, so if people ask i would be more than happy to write some more if i am confident enough in them. but i think i mostly like to do them because i talk a lot and can talk about anything.

[blackjackkent]

So at Rakha's long rest earlier, Scratch brought her an animal speaking potion, which I had her use to talk to Scratch and Buddy because she never had before. I didn't write about it bc it wasn't too dramatic, although she did like being able to speak to them because I've already established that they help her calm down sometimes when her brain is noisy.

However - I forgot that it's still active! And I talked to the cat roaming the outer walls of Moonrise. And it has Durge dialogue!

"Yours is a face I shred in my dreams. One who kicked the Steelclaw, as if I were some stray. I am a champion hunter. When I lick my pelt, I taste blood. Fortunately for you, the slithering vermin I hunt has my attention... for now."

This is really getting to be a bit much - getting taunted by Ketheric and Z'Rell and the Warden was one thing, but even the local cat is getting in on the action now. (And given her aforementioned warm connection with Scratch and Buddy, she's not deeply thrilled to hear that her past incarnation apparently had a habit of kicking said cat around.)

"What do you mean I kicked you?" she asks warily. "We've never met..."

The cat hisses disdainfully. "The death-walker passed through here before. I know your scent. All were silent afore you - but I dared to snarl. You skulked like you owned the place, trespassing on my domain."

Something in Rakha's head aches, a stab of familiarity, of dark memory. What this cat says echoes what the Warden said down in the prisons - she walked here and others were made to bow before her and hated her. Even this creature.

Try to remember what was forgotten.

Narrator: You excavate the empty caverns of your useless mind. Shoveling, dozing, blasting through the smoothbrain...

Narrator: How the kitty-cat mewled when your boot stamped upon its tail!

Narrator: You are the black cat crossing the path of the living...

The memory is hazy and dim. She grasps for it, fumbling inwardly, but as she grips it, it pulls and she feels herself sliding down into the dark. The bleak blackness of her forgotten mind grips her like a vise; her vision dulls into blankness soaked in blood and cruelty.

Welcome home... something nameless whispers inside her.

Narrator: The pleasure of the memory dribbles out of your leaking skull into the very air...

Flesh gives under her fingertips, rips, tears. There's a squalling screech that grates in her ears, and then a sharp snap and a flood of heat through her.

"Rakha!" She can hear Wyll shout her name, feel his hand on her arm. She is crouched on the stone balcony and there is blood coating her palms, splashed on her face.

The cat is dead.

No. I didn't want to do this. I didn't. It wasn't me. It wasn't...

Her heart races with sudden panic and despair. She had no control at all - she did nothing but try to recall a brief moment in her past, and it was enough. The beast had full control. Everything slipped away.

She staggers backwards until her back is to the wall behind her, her shoulders hunching, her breath coming in quick, stuttering gasps.

Cower in self-disgust.

Narrator: A memory won at the cost of a piece of your mind. You were in this tower before - that much is sure.

-----

"Hells," Wyll mutters. He looks ill as he crouches at her side. "I'm-- I'm sorry, Rakha. We saw you blanking out; I tried to stop you, but you were... so fast."

She can picture it, now that it's over. What she must have done. Quick and efficient and bloody.

"I didn't want to," she whispers. "I thought for a moment I could remember something... anything..."

He frowns. "And did you?"

"Yes." She swallows. "And it took over..."

He's silent a while. Then he takes her hand between his. She relaxes just a little, involuntarily, though part of her wants to push him away. This is the opposite of everything he has tried to help her to be. The darkness of this place is seeping into her...

"Don't try to tell me it's all right," she says, squeezing her eyes shut and looking away from him.

"I won't," he says softly. "But I know it wasn't you."

She draws a shaky breath and lets it out heavily. It felt so natural, that slide down into the darkness. There was nothing to think about, nothing to do but let the beast take over and destroy...

It is not what she wants to be, not anymore. But it was so easy... "I hope you're right."

[eddiesxangel]

I Don’t Think We Are In 1986 Anymore? | Eddie Munson x Reader 1/?

Participating in the Stranger Prompts directly from the Twilight Zone. Created by @bettyfrommars @allthingsjoeq @somnambulic-thing 🖤

Choose a prompt from the list, add in your choice of Eddie or Steve, and spin the story however you like!

Combining two prompts bc why not ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

1.He shows up at your house covered in mud in the rain, but the problem is, he died two months ago

11. You find a man hiding in your house, and he says he’s from another dimension.

cw: Mentions of Eddie's death (dw he ain't dead) and his injuries from the upsidedown.

wc: 2.3k

1986

It had been two months since the events of Vecna ensued. There was a memorial for the friends and families of the victims who suffered the gruesome death caused by the supernatural creature. Unfortunately, Eddie Munson was still considered to be the culprit and did not get the chance to defend himself against the wrath of the people of Hawkins.

Only those who knew Eddie in the end stood at his grave site, unable to retrieve his body; they mourned the loss of their friend at an empty grave.

Eventually, life moved on, and his friends kept his spirit alive by regularly talking about him and the stories of Eddie the Banished turning into Eddie the Brave. They never would let one another forget the events of that fatal night...

2024

You were just getting out of the shower, walking into your bedroom to get ready for your work day. It was about 6:39am. Your usually morning routine as going to plan, you were about to pick out an outfit before sitting to dry your hair.

That was before you were almost frightened half to death. A blood-curdling scream left your throat when you saw a young man covered in dirt and filth crouched in your closet.

He screamed back in return, being more scared about what was happening to him that you seemed to understand.

Eddie had gone through literal hell, and back that had left him emotionally and physically drained. He found himself waking up back in the real world, unsure of how he'd gotten there. Looking around, he realized he was in a place resembling his hometown of Hawkins, but something was off.

He was in immense pain and covered with his own blood, demobat blood and dirt… lots of it. It was caked into his skin as he looked down at himself, it looked like he went through a mud slide. His fingers were a deep earth colour and he couldn’t tell where the blood started and the dirt stopped. He could feel the dried cracked mud covering his face. It made him think about how anyone could stand those mud masks if they made your skin feel this tight and dry.

Despite the confusion, Eddie recognized where he was. He was in the trailer park, or what used to be the trailer park. It was the same plot of land where he had lived for years. The street signs confirmed this, but there were houses instead of trailers.

As he looked around, he noticed that the tree to the west, which had always been a familiar sight, had aged considerably. Its branches were bent and twisted, and its leaves had turned a dull brown colour.

Eddie couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed since he had last been in this place. He felt uneasy, unsure of what to do next. What he did know was that he needed to get his wounds patched up, take a shower, and get some food. There was no way he was going to a hospital, so he tried his luck, and the house's back door, where his uncle's trailer use to be, was unlocked.

Eddie had no clue what time it was or what day. So he risked walking into the house, look around for any signs of life and decided to enter.

As he felt a parching thirst, he walked towards the refrigerator and opened it. Inside, he saw a clear and chilled water bottle that caught his eye and immediately reached for it. He twisted the cap open and took a few big gulps, feeling the water quench his thirst and refresh his body.

As he drank the water, his eyes wandered inside the fridge, and he spotted a shiny red apple lying on the shelf. He decided to take it, as he felt a sudden pang of hunger and knew that he needed some nutrients to boost his energy levels, not really having any since Chrissy's death a few weeks ago. It was a miracle, he didn’t starve to death let alone escape the Upsidedown.

He reached for the apple and turned it around in his hand, not bothering to wash it before he took a bite, feeling the crunch of the juicy flesh and the sweet taste of the fruit. After he ravaged the apple, Eddie spotted some packed cold cuts and some cheese. He swiped those and made his way to try and find a bathroom.

Eddie didn't have much luck on the first floor as he wandered your house, so he walked up the stairs and saw your bedroom door open. Before he could look elsewhere, he heard running water being shut off and a light hum coming from what he could only assume was the bathroom. So Eddie panicked and jumped into your closet to hide.

After a few more minutes of terrified screaming, as you stood there in nothing but your bath towel, you threatened to call the police.

"Please, no, I'm not going to hurt you, I swear! I'm innocent!"

"Innocent! You broke into my home."

"I'm sorry I was so hungry, and you have no idea the month I have had." He got up, and you flinched, stepping back and gripping your towel tighter.

As the man stood, you noticed he was limping; he had dried blood smeared on his clothes and face. He looked to be in a lot of pain.

Against your better judgment, you felt sorry for him. He looked scared and helpless, not to mention dressed peculiarly. He had a bandana wrapped around his head, covering his long hair. Guys don't have that kind of long of hair nowadays. He also wore a bulky green vest over a leather jacket—odd for the summer months? and his shoes, they were vintage.

"I should call you an ambulance or something." You mumble as you try to cover as much of your body as you can.

"No!"

He screamed, and you flinched again. You looked over to your dresser where your phone was sitting, wondering if you could get to it before this psycho kills you.

"I'm sorry, but no, no hospitals." He shakes his head; he looks like he might cry.

"But you're hurt!" you protest. Why? You don't know. You have an extreme empathy meter, and now you hate yourself for it.

"What day is it?" He changes the subject.

"Friday"

"No I mean… last I remember it was March?."

"It’s May 17th, 2024," you reiterate.

"Excuse me? I think I have dirt still in my ears. You said what now?" He chuckles uncomfortably.

"It's May."

"No, I heard that; what year is it?" He asks with a hard tone.

"Two-thousand-and-twenty-four," you sound out each syllable like it was an idiot.

"Jesus H Christ," He whispers as his doe eyes get even bigger than you thought possible.

You didn't know what to do, this guy clearly needed help and maybe a psych evaluation, but you wanted to help him. If he had wanted to murder you he would have done so already.

"What is your name?" You bravely ask.

"Eddie... uh.... Munson"

"WHAT" you scream, almost dropping your towel in shock.

"What? What's wrong? I'm innocent; I swear I didn't hurt that girl!"

"No, I know that! I know that name... But Eddie Munson died in the eighties?"

"Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I am, in fact, Eddie Munson and very much alive... unfortunately."

"What year were you born?" Maybe this was a coincidence? Maybe, there could be two Eddie Munsons from Hawkins, Indiana, who your father never shut the fuck up about.

"1965" He answered confidently.

"You sure about that?" you question."

"You want me to go back in time to get my birth certificate?" He still can't believe he is in the year 2024, but then again he just went through a lot of stuff he still cant wrap his head around.

"No, no, it’s just you’re very young for a 59-year-old," You giggle.

"I’m not crazy!"

He looked kinda crazy

"Ok, ok, I’m sorry." Why were you apologizing?

"What year were you born?" he asks.

"1995"

"Woah." He walks over and plops himself on your vanity chair. This was too much. Eddie wanted to go home—to be clean, eat, and be with his uncle. Now, he was stuck in another dimension. The future?

You stood there and watched as the wheels in Eddie's head started to turn.

"Listen... I uh- fuck I'm absolutely insane," You mumbled to yourself. "I will let you use my shower... and I'll give you some clean clothes. I'll give you my phone to call whoever, okay?" That would be you and him sometime.

"Thank you." He signed. His shoulder dropped and he genuinely looked relieved.

You walked to your closet to get him a fresh towel and showed him to the bathroom. You also grabbed a fresh toothbrush for him. Who knows the last time he had access to a bathroom? As he stripped, you saw a very familiar, albeit ripped, logo plastered on his chest under the layers of grime.

You had to confirm with your dad what this Eddie Munson looked like. You felt like you were going crazy.

When Eddie was in the shower, you finally changed into clothes and immediately called your dad.

"Hey, Honey, what's going on?" He sounds like he was just waking up.

"I need your help!" you half scream in a whispered tone.

"Are you hurt has happened?" Your dad piped out of bed frantically.

"No, I'm okay, I need you to come here as soon as possible, its an emergency"

"Ok im coming. Do you need me to stay on the phone?"

"No, but I need you to get here as soon as possible." You bite your nail out of habit.

"Ok, ok, you're freaking me out-" You hear the jingle of keys and your mom yelling in the background "-you promise you're okay?"

"Yes, just please get here. Now," You hang up and collect Eddie's clothes and throw them into the washing machine.

Once you hang up with your dad, you call in sick to work because there is no way you're going in now. This had to be some weird fever dream. The wheels in your head were turning, and you saw Eddie emerge from the bathroom, cleaned up and no longer dark brown from being caked in blood and dirt.

Your eyes widen as you fully take in the man standing in your house. You finally recognized him; you had seen his picture plenty of times before.

"What? What is wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost?" He half smiles, and your heart swells. You can't believe what's happening, but you have to play it cool.

"Do-uh, do you need any help with uh-" You motioned to his middle; there was a nasty gash on his side; it looked irritated and swollen.

"Um, yeah, if you have any alcohol or something to clean it?"

"Ok, I should, um, you can go to my room; I left you some sweatpants that should fit and a t-shirt." You pass by him back into the bathroom to find your first aid kit.

"Uh, so I don't know if this is expired or not; let me just google how long rubbing alcohol can be opened for." you smile, picking up your phone and not giving it a second thought.

"What a Goolgle?"

This made you chuckle.

"An internet web browser," you smile, typing away.

“What’s that?” he points to your cell phone.

"A cellphone?" Maybe he was telling the truth about being from 1986?

"That’s not a cell phone." He scoffs.

"Yes it is" you giggle.

"You can call people from that thing?"

"And go online, FaceTime; it holds music, takes pictures, text, it has a flashlight, it even has a calculator." you wink.

"Face what?"

"Oh, uh. Video call… "

"Woah," Eddie was shocked.

"It can do a bunch of other stuff, but uh, let's stick to researching the life of opened-up rubbing alcohol, shall we?"

You find out that it should be safe to use, dab it on a cotton ball, and gently pat Eddie's wound, and he winces at the sting.

After a few minutes of silent concentration, you stand up with a satisfied smile.

"That should do it. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" you motion for him to follow you, and he does as he pulls the only band shirt over his wet mop.

"Uh yeah, anything. I'll take anything." Eddie was still famished.

You get some eggs, bread, and bacon, a quick and hearty meal for him.

As the sizzle of the bacon fills the room, Eddie's stomach growls.

"It will be done soon" You smile from over your shoulder.

"Hey, um you never told me your name..."

"Oh, everyone calls me Birdie... Kinda named after my aunt." you smile.

"Nice to meet you, Birdie." He smiles, and your heart flutters a little.

Stop it right now. You scold yourself internally. What the fuck was wrong with you?

You shake off your thoughts about how attracted you are by the weird stranger sitting at your kitchen table and serve him his breakfast.

Eddie doesn't say much as he wolfs down the home-cooked meal.

"Oh god, this is so good," he moans just as you head a pounding at the door. Eddie freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

"It's not the cops, I promise." You reassure him, resting your hand on his forearm.

Before you can stand up, your dad unlocks your front door, running inside with your mom right on his tail.

"Birdie, honey!" He yells out.

"In the kitchen, Dad!"

"Dad?" Eddie looks to you.

You can no longer hold back your smile, and your dad comes running into the room, running to you, pulling you into a tight death grip of a hug, making sure you are, in fact, okay.

You lock eyes with the man sitting at your table. As your dad turns to see the not-so-stranger sitting at his daughter's kitchen table.

"Holly shit Eddie?!”

"Henderson?!"

"I'm calling Uncle Steve."

Pt. 2

[mocha000]

I may be busy during the week. But I am never busy when it comes to a new ch! (mostly...) CURSE YOU TUMBLR FOR FLAGGING LI! Hope it gets reversed soon.

Thank you for another great ch! I was so down bad for Joon throughout the later part of his scene! Pack alpha is big, hot, and loving omg!

I wasn't expecting a sweet/angst intro but it's nice. I'm not in a thirsty mood rn. probably bc work makes me tired :///// "He’s not- he’s not bratty the way that the others are. He won’t insert himself where he’s not asked for." I feel like this is more like people pleasing but idk. "He’s not- he’s not bratty the way that the others are. He won’t insert himself where he’s not asked for." Aww. "There is a small corner of him, a small part that may never heal, that always gets a little nervous during heats. A little scared. The pack is so mindful of it that if Hobi thinks about it too much he gets a lump in his throat." Noo.

"Waiting for his slow blink back, like one cat to another." AHH MY LITTLE KITTY YOONGI! SO CUTE! "Before- in his other pack (Moonbyul's pack) he'd been kicked out of the nest whenever he wasn't wanted. And now he's kept in the nest, not allowed to leave, treasured in it." THAT FUCKING BITCH TT "A knife no longer used, a sword left to rust and dull." very nice line. kinda hurt. "Is that how it is all the time? Is that how you love me all the time?" The lump in his throat made the words quiet. Jungkook's muscles bulge as he leans and watches, smiling, a little sleepy, eyes closing as he does it. "Do I make you feel warm?" "Like sunshine." "Like soup." Very nice details. So sweet TT

Lol: “Only you would find a way to equate sex to soup.” Jin had pushed at his face, playful. He and Jungkook always get so playful. It's endearing. “Hobi knows that I meant!” his hobi hyung TT "Hoseok's ears had perked up at that. His attention straying. Puppy? Is she talking to him?" "He kind of wishes he'd chosen a bunny or a bear or just a regular cushion. The weird frog stuffed animal…it sort of feels like it's watching all of them and judging." lol i want a picture reference. "In a few hours, someone will wake up with melted chocolate on them. It's going to happen; you can't avoid it." "(Yoongi looks to the side of the nest, mentally counting bottles of water and how much you'll need after this)." IM DEAD! YOONGI BEING RESPONSIBLE DURING THAT!

Hot: "The inside of your thighs has gone milky, a bit of cum dripping out of your stretched hole, and even Tae's sizable knot fails to keep it all in. Painting your clit all creamy and pink. Absolutely ruined, absolutely bred by heat standards. They'll be able to smell it on you for days after" "You're settled on top of her chest, head lying between her breasts. Swelling and bitten looking." "And then when you’d bitten Tae at the feeling. She had proceeded to open your legs, dispensing slap after slap, wet and echoic over where you were most sensitive. “Bad puppy, no biting.” "She’d spanked your pussy until you were swollen and red there until your clit was gushing around her fingers. Until you were sobbing against her chest telling her that you were sorry. Clinging around her waist, open face gazing up at her in horrified adoration. Begging for forgiveness. Kicking a little every time she brought her hand down." "He can feel you clench baby girl, I'm pretty sure he knows you like it when mommy's mean." Tae guideed your hands and makes you show Jimin above you with your fingers. Made you hold open your pussy so he can look at your clit and hole. Showing him. "Tell him, tell him how much you like it, tell him how much you like it when I hit this little spot." Tae punctuated it with another slap and your whole body shuddered" "She goes like that, again and again until you fall limp, not even twitching at every new hit, cheeks wet, eyes empty except for a few crocodile tears. Hands opening and closing rapidly- like you need to hold onto something but can't choose what. Your alpha's hands are too occupied taking you apart." "Kiss it better? My puphole?" Your voice sounds wobbly, unsure. Tae grins down at Jimin as if to say, see- I told you I could get her to use the word." "She breathes through her teeth as Jimin’s tongue switches from you to her. Back and forth like he can't figure out who he wants to lick more. Until you’re breathing so heavily that Hobi thinks you might pass out." "You look like you're being devoured by them." ooh! "Hobi might find it a bit too pornographic, the way that Jimin's lips go glossy from cum when he sits up a little. Readjusting now that he's hard between his legs. Licking them and smacking them before he dives back in. Nectar, that’s the only word for your slick that comes to mind when Jimin presses his petal-like lips between your legs, kissing you until you jerk, until his brain has gone truly quiet." :"Jimin’s tongue is long and lolls out like a puppy, lapping both at Tae's cock, a familiar velvet, and your cunt, wet and sweet." imagining his tongue ahh. "Tae growls, teeth looking sharp, “Good puppy? Got your treat?” she teases. You hold your hands to your chest, breathing heavily, looking dazed. Before her hands push him back down." shes so dom omg. "Jimin scrambles to lick it up, kisses and licks into your puffy hole, gasping a little, quickly devouring what’s slipped out and then searching for more inside. Bypassing Tae's cock and knot entirely (which is a first, there's little that Jimin likes more than taking his soulmate into his mouth, taking all of Tae down his throat). But he's quickly lost to the taste of your slick and a bit intoxicated by it. His tongue strains and stretches, Licking so deep that you scrabble, trying to push." damn! "When Tae pulls Jimin up by the hair, he's equally as gone, sharp teeth on display, growling and half purring, his tongue is lolling out, cum pooling there. He shows her, mouth open wide." "He does and opens his mouth to show Tae again. his pink tongue clear of milky spend and glossy syrup thick slick."Good puppy." She praises. Eyes glancing up to meet Hobi's, grinning at him. has she known he was watching the whole time?" ooh calling both of them puppy omg. "Who knows, maybe he likes it, maybe Yoongi's body needs your slick on the air, needs it like water."

hot pt 2: (damn havent reached the max text in a paragrpah before) "Namjoon does not show any evidence of the strain, cock hanging heavy, looking impossibly big and hard as he kneels in the nest completely nude, bending over where you whine, shoulders rippling." *heavy breathing* imagined big, bad joon got me thirsty. "You will take the pack alpha's cock in heat, no matter its size, no matter your comparative smallness. No matter how daunting the task might be." “Alright, I’ll let you lie there like the good little pup you are, no need to hold yourself up for alpha, my spoiled pretty little one.” SCREAMING! I NEED HIM! "Much like the first time you ever took him. Namjoon lies his cock against your stomach, showing you, measuring how deep he'll penetrate you. He reaches past your belly button." "Mouth in a cute little ‘oh’ blinking up at him blearily. Staring straight through him." cute mc. "Jimin shuffles a little too close, a bit too eager, and Namjoon growls. A warning. Namjoon calms his instincts after a second, still working his cock gently in and out of you. After a second his growl quiets to a purr, and he juts his chin, letting the other alpha's come closer." "“Ah,” Namjoon’s smile and dimples above you make you blush, more than the knot nudging at your hole. You’ve taken it before, you know you have, but it’s no less daunting. Your body feels no pain this time, none of the strain. “I should stop being so mean, but you make it so cute when you whine and pout, can you forgive Alpha?” this hot mf ahh. "You can’t make your mouth form words, can't say anything as Yoongi leans down and kisses your belly bulge, the unmistakable bump of Namjoon’s cock inside of you. He kisses your mating mark too. Stroking over your cheek." so loving ahh. "It's a bit of a strange ritual, two omegas showing dominance over another, but you're the lowest omega in the pack so of course your pack alpha needs a marking before he has you. You need to remember who that knot belongs to. You're only allowed to have it because Jinnie and Jungkook say you can (that an because it might be cute, the way you stretch and cry around it)" oh ok damn. "But it makes you hiccup when he pushes in and you realize you have Jin's and Jungkook's slick making you feel so wet. Not just all the cum. You probably shouldn't be able to feel the difference, but it's almost like it gets a little tingly, everything more sensitive now, the heat and friction, everything heightened." wow omg. "Namjoon takes his cock all the way out to do the same thing again, to re-wet his cock with Jungkook and Jin's slick but there's no need. He takes it out and you clench almost violently. Squirting wet, noisy, messy. All over his cock, all over his thighs and stomach really. “Ah fuck.” “I’m sorry I’m- hng” you try to apologize, but Namjoon does not hear your pleas, eyes fixated between your legs with a curious expression on his face. He takes both of your wrists in his hands, pulling you onto his cock in one hard thrust." so hot omg. "Whatever hidden sensitivity that always makes you so messy is stretched to the breaking point by his cock. your pussy actually might be a little broken with how much you squirt. little dribbles of it near constantly. It’s so hot, so fucking hot that every time he takes it out, you have what must be a mini orgasm, or maybe a full one. Namjoon’s not counting." drooling. "Jimin tries to bully his way between your legs, mouth open, almost drooling. But Namjoon pushes at his face the other alpha snarls. Tae has him nearly by the knot and Namjoon glances at her spitting out his orders. His hand stays under your knee while he rocks inside, not giving you a break, not even for a second to punish Jimin. “Get his collar. If he wants to use his mouth for something productive. He can clean up Jin and Koo.” PACK ALPHA!! "Some of it hits his face. It's so loud, so much. You've never squirted so hard." lol

"He’s usually the one they reach for after being knotted when they’re close to sleep when they need that final push to make the heat fever quiet. Hoseok is the whipped cream on top of the ice cream cake, the cherry on top. The best bite that you save for last. AWW! HES SO LOVED! "His wolf pacing back and forth the confines of his head, all but clawing at his chest to get out." Ooh ehehe. "The scent of your slick on the air is messing with everyone’s head." oh yeah. ohoho. "Who even needs blankets when you have Tae and Jimin draped over you like that?" My dream lol

"Yoongi takes a second while his mate is asleep to be with his first love" Omg that's such an intimate nickname. "The reason escapes Hobi- why he can’t seem to concentrate on anything when you’re awake and can’t seem to tear his eyes away when you sleep." LOVE! "Sometimes, if they've really been bad, jin and namjoon make the alpha's pop a knot outside of an omega, just to make them panic, just to make them promise to be good later." ohh interesting. "The charcuterie board that Yoongi got, full of plums and figs and cut persimmons and squares of chocolate gets jostled." his acts of love ahh.

"His eyes flicker to the scars on your lower back just once, instincts tugging, whine building. But there are other things to focus on. Other more important things than feeling angry or sad over things he can't fix." aww. "What do you taste like? Hoseok has never tasted it and is usually a little averse to the general way his past abuse went. But now? Hoseok has never been so curious, saliva pooling in his mouth at the slight glossiness that turns Namjoon's fingers sticky. A small spiderweb-like trail between his fingers when he parts them." oho im so interested to see how Hobi will act after tasting it.

"Your chest sloshes with the movement. A bit almost? Fuller looking than before? Have you always been so plush there?" OH?! lactating?? "The alternative is…a bit shameful to consider. Namjoon should be a good alpha, should be perfect, he shouldn’t be so in love with someone that just their hand on his chest can make him cum, but it’s close. It’s perilously close. That’s just the effect you have on them." Aww. but that's so cute though. "Hobi's cheeks are hot pressed to yours, where he nuzzles, hand shy, snaking down to feel too. And you’re so dizzy, so out of it at the attention. It’s so much, having them all here like this. Having them all touch you all at once. It's half worship and half curious, half heat and half molten love."

Damn that went by so fast. two long scenes. I want to see Hobi's reaction to tasting her slick omg! "well here you go! i listened! i put out a poll the other day asking what you guys wanted me to prioritize, this or the new edited version of chapters 1-5 and i listeneddddd i think i deserve a good kiss for it <3" thank you sweetie! mwah mwah! "editing the begining….i don't like this begining, it's too wordy but i couldn't figure out how to cut it down because i know hobi's supposed to sort of be the focous of this chapter but still- it's one of those things where i dont know if its just not interesting because i've read it so many times while editing or if it's just actually not interesting." i think it was nice to touch on.

"the more i read the mroe i realize how just anxious he is." yeah lol "she's got a cunnie or a puphole not a pussy. thats just how it is." ok lol i prefer puphole out of these two. but it didnt bother me much. "in my head, this is the stuffed animal that hobi gets her <3 i chose the one with headphones cuz it reminded me of hobi <3" is there a picture? i dont see it? "i have this headcannon that jimin actually /does/ become addicted to the m/c's slick. it would start slow, and every time he comes home from work he would kinda…man handle the m/c and eat her out. but then he does it again the next day and then again. and then offers to eat her out in the shower. and then one day when they're having dinner he gets down on his knees instead of eating, and pretty soon he realizes all he thinks about is slick and the pack bring it up and they have to wein him off of it slowly. keeping him on a leash and collar all the time. kept away from the m/c until his hormones calm down and he's not on the edge of rut all the time and he can be normal about it. after that the m/c's slick is only a very very special treat for minnie." wow damn thats very hot. actually pussy drunk.

"i don't think the m/c realizes it, but the reason /why/ she doesn't like to present is because the scars on her back are on display that way. she doesn't like going back up because i think…thats probably how she was posed when geumjae cut her up. it's very instinctual because she was probably in omegaspace when it happened (poor pup) so her omega is a bit traumatized by it." Oh... TT "i know the alpha's don't mention the marks on her back or her other scars at all, but i think it's because they've started to see her through them? like i don't think they notice them that much anymore because they've just accepted they're apart of her <3" aww. "stay tuned for the next chapter! i'll post a teaser for it the second that tumblr removes my ban!" CUSE YOU TUMBLR! GET MY BABY OUT OF JAIL! THE PRETTY PFP TT "love you <3 glad you came" love you!! :>

Before I Leave you (Pt. 78)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Hoseok is a good puppy, he'll wait until the pack alpha gives him permission to breed you through your heat. In the meantime, he watches the other alphas take you apart.

Tags: Heat sex, knotting, group sex, Sub! m/c, Dom! Namjoon, Sub! Hobi, Switch! Jimin, Dom! Tae, mommy kink, mean Dom tae, trans! tae, comparing knots,, oral sex + cum, Cumplay, size kink, big dick Namjoon, womb fucking, belly bulge, slight inflation kink, breeding kink, pussy spanking, pain kink, clit torture if you squint, overstimulation, squirting, messiness kink, inspection kink, omegaspace sex, humiliation kink, implied cuckolding, dominance displays, bite marks, biting kink, porn without plot, straight filth i'm not even going to lie.

W/c: 10.3k

A/n: the second part of this chapter has already been edited and is completely ready for posting so the second that tumblrs shadow-ban on me is over i will post it! stay tuned for her and hobi's dedicated scene :( it just got too long. This chapter will be cross posted on Ao3 so if you are struggling to read it here because of the ban, just head over to my archive to read it.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Hoseok is… distracted through the majority of the group heat.

The pack has been fucking most of the night away, it’s hard to tell exactly what time it is. It’s either very late or incredibly early and Hoseok still hasn’t been asked, still hasn't shuffled over to where you lay in the nest. There has been no pretty begging or expectant encouraging glances.

He’s not- he’s not bratty the way that the others are. He won’t insert himself where he’s not asked for. You are so overwhelmed- it’s hard for you to ask. The heat makes your brain feel like a bowl of scrambled eggs.

Hoseok doesn’t mind being helpful. Usually, that's how Hobi prefers to serve the pack during heats. He's always ready to rub away overstimulated tears or hold a fussy omega around the waist through their knotting. Or snake a hand down between Jin or Jungkook’s thighs for a settling hold around their cock.

It’s a lot for omega’s, Hoseok knows that. He’s ready when the other alpha’s run empty and tired, for when the omega’s are fucked pliant and ready for a cuddle.

Jin in particular is very very fond of cuddling after he’s been knotted and Hobi- as the alpha with the gentlest scent is usually in high demand and short supply. Especially this heat with yoongi mostly indisposed when Jin wants his snuggling and Jungkook Mia.

The other omega is not in the right place to help in any way, hopping from dick to dick non-proverbially. He takes Namjoon and then Tae and then goes back to Namjoon again. Hobi after- in the intermediate. When he needs to be fucked gently. His hole is a bit too tender to take cocks of unimaginable size.

You slumber after your first knot. fucked right off into sleep after tae has you. Sleeping soundly through the first night.

Hoseok knows he’s needed. Knows it in his blood even if his insecure mind is a little harder to cajole into understanding. Hoseok likes fucking gentle, in and out of rut, in and out of heat. Like Yoongi, slow grinds and thrusts that don’t end, a simmer where the others are a rolling boil. Gentling the comedown.

It's just not in his nature, especially not in heat.

There is a small corner of him, a small part that may never heal, that always gets a little nervous during heats. A little scared. The pack is so mindful of it that if Hobi thinks about it too much he gets a lump in his throat.

Yoongi sticks to your side like glue when he’s not too tired to hold his head up. But he does look across the nest, searching for Hobi's eyes, checking in with him. Waiting for his slow blink back, like one cat to another.

But this heat is not the same. Not at all. Because you are here, in the nest, feet away, inches away even. You set his instincts on edge, the protectiveness in him a hum like a bumblebee that's found its honey.

Hobi would feel unwanted in any other scenario. He had felt unwanted at the beginning when he was still settling into his place in the hierarchy and equated being at the bottom with being the least necessary.

He’d tried to be brave about it, had let the shame and humiliation of feeling lesser burn through him until finally- after weeks and months of feeling that way he’d confided in them.

Alone in the nest with just the omegas, just Jin and Jungkook, in an apartment building months and miles away from where you are now. Luxuriating in the aftermath of Jin’s most recent cycle. The afterheat a honey hum on the back of their throats. The omega looked glowing and satisfied but tired in the nest, freshly laundered around them.

And Hoseok had tried to get up, tried to get out of the nest to go get Jin some water to replace the various liquids he’d lost only to have Jungkook’s hands grip him tight around the waist and pull him back in.

“Do you need an alpha? I can go get them?” But Jungkook and Jin had shaken their heads, everyone else had been allowed to leave the heat nest finally.

But Hoseok wasn't.

Jin and Jungkook had shared a complicated glance. "Guard the nest for us?" Jungkook had offered and left Hoseok feeling very aware of the fact that that wasn't the reason why they asked him to stay.

Usually, alpha's clamor and fight and bicker to see who can breed an in-heat omega first. But Hoseok had stayed back, had stayed at the edge of the nest through Jin's heat again. Even when he'd asked.

Jin's omega tries not to take that as rejection but it's hard.

It's a bit jarring for Hobi too. Before- in his other pack (Moonbyul's pack) he'd been kicked out of the nest whenever he wasn't wanted. And now he's kept in the nest, not allowed to leave, treasured in it.

Hoseok doesn't know how to handle it. He squirmed. Uncomfortable with feeling wanted.

“Do you need something to eat too? Another towel? Another knot? I’ll get Namjoon I’ll-” Jin’s whines had been petulant and grating. Jungkook’s fluffy head, curly from the shower.

“No Hyung, just want you.”

“But why?”

Hoseok had finally put his worries to rest. Long talks in the nest at first felt scary to him. But once the novelty of being in an omega's nest faded everything lost its edge, and after a good long while so did the fear to grow dull in his chest. A knife no longer used, a sword left to rust and dull.

It helped that Jin had done it all while scenting him, rubbing their wrists together until his skin went raw, rubbed his chin over the top of Hobi's head so aggressively that his skin went chapped. Both of them explained.

“Fucking the others makes the heat feel hotter.”

“Especially Namjoon- makes me feel fucking rabid or something. Hurts after a while. Even if I want it. It's uncomfortable after the fact.”

Jin had nodded agreeing, “It feels very overstimulating, too intense. Too much, but you never feel too intense. It’s like- you know the feeling when you’re sick but someone hands you soup, and you go ‘Oh this is what I’ve needed?' And it makes you feel sleepy and warm instead of feverish and tired? That’s the difference.”

Jungkook had leaned over Hobi, head resting on his chest bitten up, cuddling into Hobi's body like Hobi was a place of refuge and not an empty vessel for their whims. Lump in his throat as he watches the two omegas tease each other.

“Only you would find a way to equate sex to soup.” Jin had pushed at his face, playful. He and Jungkook always get so playful. It's endearing.

“Hobi knows that I meant!”

They'd giggled and fought over top of him, and Hoseok had sat back and thought for a good long while.

"Is that how it is all the time? Is that how you love me all the time?" The lump in his throat made the words quiet. Jungkook's muscles bulge as he leans and watches, smiling, a little sleepy, eyes closing as he does it. "Do I make you feel warm?"

"Like sunshine."

"Like soup."

Hobi has grown up a lot since then, they’ve shared a dozen heat and ruts together, enough to get a routine going, enough to have a rhythm. 7 heartbeats and one goal.

But now there are 8 heartbeats and 8 packmates in the nest. Now, things are different.

Maybe it’s not the way every alpha would want to be wanted, but when Hobi thinks about it now- he still gets choked up. He’s usually the one they reach for after being knotted when they’re close to sleep when they need that final push to make the heat fever quiet. Hoseok is the whipped cream on top of the ice cream cake, the cherry on top. The best bite that you save for last.

Hobi knows this, that the pack often gives him a wide berth during heats because they want to save him for when they need him. Letting him adjust and come to them on his own terms, through his own choice. Only Jungkook ever gets truly demanding and forgets to ask for that yes. And by that point- Hobi is usually rattled enough by their hormones to toss away his fear and cave to his own instincts.

But that is not how your heat goes.

Unlike other heats. Hobi is distracted from the get-go, inattentive in his usual role of bringing up the rear. Hoseok has never had to force down his instincts like this before. Has never had them come out like this. His wolf pacing back and forth the confines of his head, all but clawing at his chest to get out.

It’s clear that the rest of the pack is feeling it too. The alpha's snarls and snaps. Yoongi's head is practically buried in the back of your neck. Tae had told Jimin off for teething at your neck for too long, turning the skin too red, too tender so soon. Namjoon has had to stop Jungkook and Jin from clawing their way over to you.

Jungkook's earlier snapping is all but forgotten now, settled with the pack alpha's cock inside of him, distracted.

The scent of your slick on the air is messing with everyone’s head.

No sooner has he been dragged away to help hold Jungkook through his knotting- one of many brutal bouts the pack alpha will put his omega’s through over the next 3ish days. No sooner is he a few feet away from you than the pull starts. Hoseok feels that ceaseless tug, telling him to look, like a magnet.

Jungkook tends to pass out a little when Namjoon fucks him. Needs someone to hold him, keep him steady, and wake him back up. No sooner has he combed Jungkook’s hair away from his sweaty face, than is his gaze immediately drawn to where you are covered by two of your alphas.

Who even needs blankets when you have Tae and Jimin draped over you like that? Your face is all that Hoseok can see, your cheek smushed against one of your stuffed animals. The one that is shaped sort of like an ugly frog. One of the ones you made Hobi scent during your nest making.

He thinks one of their knots is inside you at the moment. tae's dress is hiked up and Jimin is more laying ontop of both of you than spooning you. it's cute. like a big puppy thats convinced himself he's a lap dog. They Keep you warm and snug and safe through the night. Hoseok measures your breaths himself because Yoongi is wrapped up in Jin at the moment.

Yoongi takes a second while his mate is asleep to be with his first love. Sharing kisses and quiet words and sloppy mutual movements. Yoongi’s lips against Jin’s sweaty cheeks.

“Fuck, Namjoon always comes so much, I forgot how it feels to fuck you after he’s-” Namjoon grins and doesn't say anything, staring at jin and yoongi across the nest. looking a bit too satisfied for his own good. He fucks into Jungkook harder and the omega squeals. Hobi covers his mouth with a hand to quiet him and keep him from waking you three.

Contrary to popular belief, it’s actually the alphas that struggle to sleep through your heat, a good thick knot has Jin, you, and Jungkook going right off. It's getting Jungkook and Jin to sleep for good that's harder. They doze and wake every hour or so whenever the need to knot overcomes them.

But Jimin and Tae are fitful, Hoseok doesn't even feel the least bit tired and Namjoon shows no sign of exhaustion.

With instincts on edge and so many vulnerable packmates sleeping, the instinct to guard and help and keep safe sings with the sight of the rising moon, silvery and full through the window.

Darkness means danger. Nightime even more so. The alphas must stay awake, must guard the nest, and keep their packmates vulnerable bodies safe from anyone who might come near.

Namjoon's eyes flash in the darkness, hand on Jungkook's hip keeping the omega in place as he fucks him.

Hoseok loves the visible difference between the two of them. Jungkook's small cock is barely a handful or a cute little mouthful next to Namjoon's monster, fitting into Jungkook's hole easier now that his muscles are relaxed, but big enough that it's still startling. the size difference between them palpable. Jungkook might be muscley, but Namjoon is strong and stout where it matters.

Hoseok looks back at you, swallowing hard.  He saw you take Namjoon's cock back during his rut, but he was trying not to watch last time, trying not to get turned on by it. Now- now it's different.

His hand slides off Jungkook’s mouth, down to his chin, and the omega lets out another dry sob.

But you do stir, Tae lifts her pretty ruffled head from the nest and narrows her eyes through the darkness. Hoseok sees her move and hears your sleepy trill of displeasure as where you’re connected pulls.

Someone left the hallway light on, and it spills across the nest in a single shard light of yellow. Soon someone will get up to shut it off after the sun rises. A distant hour away. It cuts across your body, illuminating you in bright chiaroscuro.

He’s so focused on you and Jimin, the alpha waking too and leaning low, double checking if you want to go back to sleep or if you need more, that he misses the moment when Namjoon pushes his knot all the way in and thus the full body shiver that Jungkook lets out.

The same full-body shiver that he usually likes to be scented through. Jungkook says it takes the edge off.

Namjoon nuzzles forward, filling the spot where hobi's fussing should be. Closing Jungkook’s slack mouth with a nudge of his nose against the omega's jaw. The omega lets out a little ‘hng’ noise.  And Hobi looks back.

He ducks low a beat too late, nuzzling into the side of his face, “did so well. Took alpha’s knot so well.” The praise is routine, falls from his lips almost perfunctory, but Jungkook still hiccups through it, jerking with every pulse of Namjoon’s knot and mewling softly through the praise. Abdominal muscles tremble from the feeling of being filled. his orgasm So good that Jungkook's tongue lolls out. Eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Good omega, does alpha knocking you up feel good in your sensitive little hole? Want more?”

Jungkook shakes his head, but Namjoon still grinds in deeper, pressing so deep inside him that Jungkook’s abdominal muscles strain and stretch. It’s not quite as much of a visible belly bulge that you have but it’s enough to make Hoseok feel his own grip on his lucidity strain.

But it’s only temporary. Hoseok looks back over at you.

Namjoon furrows his eyebrows at his packmate, hand on Hobi's squeezing in understanding. He rubs his chin over the top of Hoseok’s head, scent marking him, trying to soothe the edge of his scent a little surprised, a little bit nervous.

But understanding what is the question. The reason escapes Hobi- why he can’t seem to concentrate on anything when you’re awake and can’t seem to tear his eyes away when you sleep. Guarding your sleeping, like there is anything that could ever happen to you here in this room.

Hoseok wouldn't let it, Hoseok won't let anything happen to you. He doesn't need to sleep right? He doesn't need it. It can wait until after.

Hobi lets go of Jungkook’s mouth, lets him moan and squeals as Namjoon’s hand meanly snakes down between his thighs. Grabbing the little head of his cock between his thumb and forefinger and rubbing.

Jungkook can’t even squirm, can’t even do anything but half flinch, legs coming up to his chest, open and exposed. Little gushes of clear omegan spend dribbling across Namjoon’s fingers hot and sweet. Turning Jungkook's abs dewy.

"There you go sweething, make a mess for alpha, that's it Koo. Give it to me."

Hoseok watches Jimin move, his body lithe and toned, honeyed skin stretching in the light of pre-dawn, the shaft of light cutting across his shoulders.

Jimin settles between your legs as Tae holds them open, revealing where you're stretched open around her cock. Jimin's own cock heavy but only half hard between his legs, the lump in his black boxer shorts telling.

You are hazy and not all there. Sleepy after being knotted so thoroughly that you turned the blankets under you a darker shade of gray. The same blankets that Hobi tugged from underneath your form softly and placed in the hall where a big pile of them had already built up. Laundry to be done after this is all over. Slick soaked and cum stained.

Hoseok can still smell you a little, on his hands. Jungkook can too- nuzzling into them, a little feral. But Omega's often seek out each other's slick in heat, for comfort.

A look between your lets says you’re similarly filthy. While before they’d wanted to let you sleep, now Jimin’s eyes are bright in the half-darkness, focused between your legs.

The inside of your thighs has gone milky, a bit of cum dripping out of your stretched hole, and even Tae's sizable knot fails to keep it all in. Painting your clit all creamy and pink. Absolutely ruined, absolutely bred by heat standards. They'll be able to smell it on you for days after.

Maybe if Hoseok shuffles over, you'll let him sniff at your belly, check, and see if it took. If you're bred already. If you're not, then they should-

Hoseok blinks away the haze. Trying too- but it's so hard.

Your stomach has not started to swell- and probably won’t until Namjoon’s had you. But you’ve been smacking dab between Jimin and Tae for the last few hours, alternating from soulmate to soulmate. Tae had fucked you, then Jimin, then Tae again. They've given you enough that the loss of a little cum in your cunt will not hurt your omegan instincts or make the heat fever spike higher.

Tae's still knotted to you, and it shows no sign of going down, still tugging at your entrance, turning it taught. Hobi watches as Tae says something to Jimin and Jimin blushes. but Tae puts her hands on your thighs, hooking under your knees and spreading you.

You're settled on top of her chest, head lying between her breasts. Swelling and bitten looking.

That's from you. You'd bitten her up like that. Hobi had watched you do it. You’d gotten a little mouthy, a little squeaky. And Tae had sated your oral fixation in the only way she knew how:

You might be a bit obsessed with her chest, with marking the differences from the beginning of her transition till now. They're a little bigger, a little more fluffy against your face when you nuzzle. Kissing and sucking and rubbing your cheeks there because you love them. Hiding your face from the world between them when things get too overwhelming.

You like it, how warm they feel around you, on either side of your cheeks, how you can feel the thud of her heartbeat against your face. She's so soft. She's so pretty. You tell her that whenever you can untangle your thoughts enough to speak.

(Hoseok had knotted Jungkook the second he realized that you where worshiping them. or maybe it was just how mouthy Tae got that riled him up and made him knot early.)

It had been a pretty picture; your head balanced in the crook of Tae's arm, legs splayed and Jimin between them fucking you brutally back and forth on his cock, your head and body stationary while Tae touched your cheek, finger, and thumb pushing at them, stroking over your jaw. Her soft croon delicate and filthy.

“There you go baby, just wanted to suck huh? Just needed something in that little cute mouth of yours while Jiminie fucks you up huh? Are you feeling good baby? My cute little pup is so needy for a taste. Little hungry thing, what are we to do with you- What are you gonna do when Minnie puts a pup in your cunnie and you start to get milky huh? Are you gonna let Mommy have a taste of you then? How about here?”

Tae's wandering hands and the swell of her against the roof of your mouth had soothed you through your knotting. As had her fingers rubbing between your legs at that sensitive button that she loves to tug at, in time with her soulmate tugging his knot into your hole and back out again, half popped.

Jimin is always always mean with it, letting you feel the spot where he stretches you, pulling it back and forth over your sweet spot.

And then when you’d bitten Tae at the feeling. She had proceeded to open your legs, dispensing slap after slap, wet and echoic over where you were most sensitive.

“Bad puppy, no biting.”

Hoseok's ears had perked up at that. His attention straying. Puppy? Is she talking to him?

She’d spanked your pussy until you were swollen and red there until your clit was gushing around her fingers. Until you were sobbing against her chest telling her that you were sorry. Clinging around her waist, open face gazing up at her in horrified adoration. Begging for forgiveness. Kicking a little every time she brought her hand down.

“Sorry for doing what?”

“Sorry for biting mommy.” You’d sobbed. Trying to close your legs but unable to with how Jimin kept them open. Hole filled and clit on display. A toy under Tae's fingers. Your brain is a mess of mommy minnie, minnie mommy mommy.

"No no no honey, you'll hold yourself open like a good pup and let Minnie see, you know alpha likes to watch you. What? You don't want him to see how you like getting your cunny spanked? That even though you cry and squirm you really like it? He can feel you clench baby girl, I'm pretty sure he knows you like it when mommy's mean."

Tae guideed your hands and makes you show Jimin above you with your fingers. Made you hold open your pussy so he can look at your clit and hole. Showing him.

"Tell him, tell him how much you like it, tell him how much you like it when I hit this little spot." Tae punctuated it with another slap and your whole body shudderd

Jimin had grins and keeps working his knot inside your hole, puffy now, close to popping too big that he won't be able to take it out anymore. Jimin is good at knowing where that line is. He won't risk popping a knot outside of you. It's a painful possibility, one that would physically hurt Jimin, and mentally hurt you.

Sometimes, if they've really been bad, jin and namjoon make the alpha's pop a knot outside of an omega, just to make them panic, just to make them promise to be good later.

You tried very very hard to be good. but...tae and jimin had fucked you a little dumb. a little shy. so shy you could hardly look at them. "I like it when mommy's mean when she spanks my… my- "

"Your what pup?" tae's palm hits your clit hard enough to sting.

"My cunnie." you gasp.

It's humiliating, that she makes you say that, but it makes you drip and gush. She makes you beg for it, makes you beg for more until you're squirting just a little from every new spank. A few drops hit her fingers and Jimin’s cock, dripping and clenching hopelessly around him.

The pads of her fingers pause to rub your clit just a little, rubbing up and down in small movements and you're right there, right on the edge of Cumming. Only then does she pull back and tap it again.

She goes like that, again and again until you fall limp, not even twitching at every new hit, cheeks wet, eyes empty except for a few crocodile tears. Hands opening and closing rapidly- like you need to hold onto something but can't choose what. Your alpha's hands are too occupied taking you apart.

This is why Hoseok had gotten you that stuffed animal in the first place, to give you something to hug to your chest. Feeling a little broody maybe.

He kind of wishes he'd chosen a bunny or a bear or just a regular cushion. The weird frog stuffed animal…it sort of feels like it's watching all of them and judging.

And it had soothed you, soothed you to hold onto something plush and soft and gentle while the endless ups and downs of a heatwave tore through you. All of you that is anxious and scared turned small and blank by Tae's touch. Fucked dumb by both of them, until Tae has to hold your head up. Fucked so good you can't even reply when Tae tells you to kiss Minnie, to lick into his mouth, lapping a little, cute puppyish licks that she coos at.

"Now kiss Hobi, tell puppy thank you."

Your eyes had not focused on Hoseok, licking into his mouth, bent, sloppy. A kiss that tugged heat at his gut. "Tank' you puppy."

Tae doesn't stop once you're small and quiet- quite the opposite in fact. She tries to find new ways to make you react, pinching your clit back and forth, cooing at how puffy it feels between her fingers. Guiding Minnie to suck at your chest once he's knotted. The attention is too much, too much everywhere as Tae continues to tug between your legs, playing with you. too much until you really do pass out.

Tae is feeling a little guilty about that now. Pushing you so far, pushing you maybe to your breaking point. You're not sure what would have happened if she'd kept going, you show no hint of safe wording, not even a little. Although you'd squirmed and cried, you'd never told her to stop.

She had rewarded you with a gentle fuck, let you sleep without pulling out, knot hardly flagging. Now, Jimin murmurs something, something that sounds like 'hole check' and 'Jinnie will be angry if we don't-’ Tae holds you open while you hold the stuffed animal to your chest. For comfort. Because you need something to hold onto.

Your pussy looks…already a little swollen. Clit a puffy nudge. Glossy. But at least your hole stretched around Tae's knot doesn't look too red yet.

There are hickey marks up your thighs. Left there when Jimin just hadn’t been able to resist getting a little nibbly. Jimin often engages in sensory-seeking behaviors during ruts and heats. Nibbling, dragging his kiss across the same spot several times, repetitively rubbing like he's warming up his hands against the pack's prone bodies.

Jimin looks strong and lean. Shuffling forward between your legs, every one of his muscles poised and ready, looking thick and compact and very alpha.

If Hobi had ears, they’d be cocked in your direction.

Jimin won’t be ready for another round soon, but that doesn’t mean that your pleasure is over. Hoseok watches as he ducks in and says something to your ear, watching as Jimin plants kiss after kiss on your prone body. Crouches over you, slowly kissing down your midline.

Jimin gently parts your legs, and Tae holds you under your tights. “Don’t you want to show Jiminie where you’re messy pup? Tell me, baby, does she look all pretty stuck on my knot? Mommy’s sorry for earlier. Minnie will kiss it better.”

"Kiss it better? My puphole?" Your voice sounds wobbly, unsure. Tae grins down at Jimin as if to say, see- I told you I could get her to use the word.

"Yes baby, Minnie’s kisses are very very nice, I think they'll make you feel very very good. Can he pup?"

Jimin pets over your stomach, and you stare down at him, wide-eyed, as he touches your sensitive tummy. Alarmed, instincts are a bit too sensitive to be touched there. Across the nest asleep. Jin's upper lip lifts in a soundless hiss.

You settle back against Tae's test deliberating. "If mommy wants Minnie to kiss pup there then I guess…" You trail off, peeking at Jimin. Blushing and looking away. Shy. Omegaspace has never looked more filthy- and Hobi cannot tear his eyes away.

"What a good little pup, leaving it up to me, what are we to do with you huh? what did we do to deserve such an obedient little pup." You giggle, pushing Tae's face away with a slack hand as she kisses your cheek, your forehead, your nose.

Jimin presses a hand to your stomach, smiling down at the two of you, “So pretty puppy, mommy’s nocking you up huh, all deep in your tummy here right?”

You mewl and whine, squirming in your embarrassment as Jimin brushes his knuckles from between your legs to your belly button and back again. Searching for the spot where you both meet, where you're stretched and stuck on her knot still. Tae groans. Knot pulsing as you clench and Jimin's fingers circle where you're stretched. Coming away glossy.

“Cute little omega, bred so well that you can’t even think straight.”

The world spins, going hazy at the edges. Jimin guides your legs over his shoulders gently. Testing your body for the strain. Moving you slowly. Your fingers tangle in Jimin’s hair after Tae guides them there. Giving you something to hold onto.

Jimin likes it when his hair gets pulled.

Jimin shuffles between your legs, you don't immediately realize what he's doing, your mind fluttering away from the moment. Settling into that soft safe hazy place where your brain is a mess of mommy knot Minnie mommy knot Minnie want kisses.

But then he puts his lips around your clit. So sensitive, made puffy from your spanking and sucks, cheeks going hollow.

You yelp and try and close your legs, it's too much, every nerve ending on fire, so much it burns. Jimin doesn't listen to your squirming or squeaking holding your legs a bit harder as he sucks. lips moving, mouthing at it.

You let out small squeaks and gasps as Jimin works. Cleaning you efficiently. not letting a drop go to waste.

Jimin clearly doesn’t think it’s gross to clean his packmate's cum from your cunt. Loud slurps and small hums. Your chest heaves, breasts bobbing. Someone (probably Jimin) has left pretty bruises down them, your skin glossy and glowing from the attention.

This is what the heat fever demands. What you need.

“Minnie- Minnie-” Your open begging does little to stop Jimin only spurs him on, hooking his fingers into your cunt, trying to part you a little further around Tae's knot and lapping noisy and feral at what slips out.

She breathes through her teeth as Jimin’s tongue switches from you to her. Back and forth like he can't figure out who he wants to lick more. Until you’re breathing so heavily that Hobi thinks you might pass out.

Your head lols against Tae's shoulder, and the other alpha leans in and sucks at your throat. You look like you're being devoured by them. Tae's hands skim up and down your stomach, then to your chest, pinching. Teasing.

Hoseok feels a stirring in his gut, knot pulsing too hard for someone who’s already knotted twice in the last 24 hours. He gave Jin and Jungkook one each, but he’s never been unoccupied during one of your heat spikes. Hoseok’s cock twitches as he watches. He’s never liked watching quite so much. Maybe it’s just because it’s you.

Hobi might find it a bit too pornographic, the way that Jimin's lips go glossy from cum when he sits up a little. Readjusting now that he's hard between his legs. Licking them and smacking them before he dives back in.

Nectar, that’s the only word for your slick that comes to mind when Jimin presses his petal-like lips between your legs, kissing you until you jerk, until his brain has gone truly quiet. Your pussy tastes like the sensory equivalent of a warm bath. Another one of Jimin’s safe foods.

There’s something taboo about it too; taking the other alpha’s cum and cleaning it from you. Taking it from your hole into his mouth and swallows.  Warm and intoxicating and salt-sweet. You taste like them, like pleasure and pack. Jimin likes the way it makes him feel, warm and full and good. Usually, only omega’s get alpha cum so deep in their tummy- but Jimin is special. Jimin is a good alpha, so he gets it too, Jimin is-

Jimin cleans up everything, going slow and meticulous. Lapping up the slick and cum on the inside of your thighs, the cleft between your pussy and your leg, the warmth of your heat slit turning it all syrupy.

Any other time it would be a little gross. But Hoseok’s knot continues to pulsate half-popped between his thighs, near enough to Jungkook’s head that the omega’ can smell it, turning to nose between his legs, sniffing hard. Curious and still sort of crying.

Namjoon grabs Hobi's chin and makes him look at him. The pack alpha raises a knowing eyebrow, then taps his chin with two fingers as if to say, ‘Go on, what are you waiting for?’

But Hoseok doesn’t. Can't. Shaking his head and tucking his chin down, still too nervous for now.

(But not for long)

Hobi's fingers hover on Jungkook’s face, and the omega sucks his thumb inside, needing something to suck. Needing his packmate's skin on this tongue. Jungkook's tongue rolls against it, and Hobi wonders if that's how Jimin's tongue feels, warm and wet and hungry.

Your packmates have done well- you’re so full you don’t even fuss at the little bit slipping out. Jimin’s tongue is long and lolls out like a puppy, lapping both at Tae's cock, a familiar velvet, and your cunt, wet and sweet.

Jimin gets more and more aggressive about it as your slick works him up. Body reacting to it double time. Hips jutting forward grinding into the nest. So worked up from it that Tae pets through his hair and tells him to calm down.  

When she lifts his head, his pupils are blown wide, Tae growls, teeth looking sharp, “Good puppy? Got your treat?” she teases. You hold your hands to your chest, breathing heavily, looking dazed. Before her hands push him back down.

It doesn't take much with Tae's knot snug against your G-spot, just Jimin pressing, forcing a finger in, spreading you a little wider while he laps at your slick center, open-mouthed and flat passes of his tongue has you coming undone.

Tae hisses, knot half deflated and pushed out when you clench at the brush of Jimin’s teeth over your clit, sensitive, so sensitive that even a little kiss feels like fire. You cum and squirt, your packmates holding you through it.

He’s offered a whole new decadence for truly cleaning you up as a bit of cum (Tae's or Yoongi’s or his own- does it really matter?) Dribbles out in a small trail of white. The plop of it faint.

Jimin scrambles to lick it up, kisses and licks into your puffy hole, gasping a little, quickly devouring what’s slipped out and then searching for more inside. Bypassing Tae's cock and knot entirely (which is a first, there's little that Jimin likes more than taking his soulmate into his mouth, taking all of Tae down his throat). But he's quickly lost to the taste of your slick and a bit intoxicated by it.

His tongue strains and stretches, Licking so deep that you scrabble, trying to push. But Tae holds you steady, her cock limp and pretty pink against her thigh. Until you go slack again, completely at their mercy.

It takes Jimin a few minutes to finish, by the time he's done you're hiccupping against Tae's throat. But finally, after some squirming, Jimin lets you close your trembling thighs.

When Tae pulls Jimin up by the hair, he's equally as gone, sharp teeth on display, growling and half purring, his tongue is lolling out, cum pooling there. He shows her, mouth open wide.

She strokes over it once, twice, examining it before she tells him to swallow.

He does and opens his mouth to show Tae again. his pink tongue clear of milky spend and glossy syrup thick slick.

"Good puppy." She praises. Eyes glancing up to meet Hobi's, grinning at him. has she known he was watching the whole time?

Hoseok bites back a whine and looks away.

~-~

Hobi is having a hard time looking away from you, especially once Jungkook falls asleep and Namjoon rouses.

The pack alpha hasn’t slept a wink, but you’d never know it from the way that his bright eyes focus on you, his single-minded attention on the omega across the nest. Not sleeping, not really, not yet.

Jimin and Tae are on either side of you, not sandwiched you in like before. Both of them worn and tuckered out. Every few moments your body gives a cute puppy twitch, hands reaching out and sinking to the nest. Sleepily grasping for something you know you want but you can't quite wake up enough to ask for. Your heat fever leaves you sleepy and inarticulate.

A petulant whine builds in your throat, just barely, blinking awake, and Namjoon is already moving, pulling his cock from Jungkook’s hole with surprising gentility.

The charcuterie board that Yoongi got, full of plums and figs and cut persimmons and squares of chocolate gets jostled. In a few hours, someone will wake up with melted chocolate on them. It's going to happen; you can't avoid it.

Jungkook slumbers on, smacking his lips. Truly asleep. Fucked to bed just like he likes. Not even the lack of a knot could wake him. Yoongi and Jin are similarly sleeping a few pillows away. Jin's curled up with his head resting against Yoongi's chest, the beta's breath deep and even. Like he's trying to drink down as much of your pheromones in the air as he can.

Who knows, maybe he likes it, maybe Yoongi's body needs your slick on the air, needs it like water.

A deep growl, a pleased sound builds in Namjoon’s throat, primal. Your alpha letting you know he’s there. You blink up at him as he shuffles over. After a second, Hobi's creaky body moves. Shuffling over to help. To hold, to take his usual place at Namjoon’s side.

A whine builds in Hobi's throat too, but he bites it back and doesn’t let it slip out.

Namjoon does not show any evidence of the strain, cock hanging heavy, looking impossibly big and hard as he kneels in the nest completely nude, bending over where you whine, shoulders rippling. Flipping you over onto your tummy with a short chirp. A sound that is music to Hobi’s ears, leaves them ringing a little as he watches.

The part of you that is still there, that is still somewhat cognizant. Is a little intimidated at the sight of Namjoon’s cock, hanging heavy between his thighs. So big that it makes you ache already. You squirm away kicking at his thigh. An imitation of alpha rough housing, of your earlier fight to run away.

But Namjoon is just as instinct-driven as you are, chuckling deep and pulling you back by your ankles. Away and out from between Jimin and Tae, both of them stir and start to wake.

His growled out order of “present” is not something that you struggle to obey, head going hazy. Instincts going obedient.

But he doesn’t let you move on your own, puppeting your body until your hands and knees are under you. You’re sleepy, almost unable to stay up. Namjoon looks down at you fond, but unyielding. His hands move with a hidden sureness. A hidden firmness.

You will take the pack alpha's cock in heat, no matter its size, no matter your comparative smallness. No matter how daunting the task might be.

Namjoon will make it fit if he has to.

He parts between your legs, looking down and humming, fingers checking, making sure you’re open enough, plunging two fingers into you, then three, and stroking. Your spine arches, you moan, and Namjoon hums, pleased.

Jimin made you clean but your pussy lips are still puffy from all the hormones and attention. Jimin grins from where he and Tae stretch out, saying something softly to each other and sharing a gentle kiss. They like to watch, stretched out, half propped up on pillows.

Hoseok sits on his hands and knees, watching, waiting. Feeling a little lightheaded.

His eyes flicker to the scars on your lower back just once, instincts tugging, whine building. But there are other things to focus on. Other more important things than feeling angry or sad over things he can't fix.

Namjoon’s thumb taps against your clit. You gasp and drip, Namjoon adds another finger, grinning down at you as you take it. There's no real need to prep you quite as much as he normally does, your heat hormones have made most of your muscles into jelly and Tae has opened you up well for him. He's still a little cautious, still very aware that you are small and he is big. His fingers, his whole palm really, come away glossy.

Namjoon puts those fingers to his tongue and growls deep and low, pupils bright one second, then dark and blown just like Jimin’s.

What do you taste like? Hoseok has never tasted it and is usually a little averse to the general way his past abuse went. But now? Hoseok has never been so curious, saliva pooling in his mouth at the slight glossiness that turns Namjoon's fingers sticky. A small spiderweb-like trail between his fingers when he parts them.

Hoseok’s inner alpha can’t shut up about their omega slicking up so well, presenting so pretty, so eager and pliant through their breeding, not even a little bit of biting. Namjoon’s knot will have no trouble fitting, he can breed and keep you for good.

Hoseok likes the idea of that, the idea of Namjoon keeping you. If anyone could knock you up it would be the pack alpha, his big knot that already looks a bit inflamed between his legs, Jin thoroughly abused that earlier but you-

You look so small when Namjoon shuffles between your legs, cockhead bumping, sliding across your thighs, up the cleft of your ass and lying hard and thick against your spine. Sensitive and wet.  

Namjoon juts it back and forth, Teaseing you.

“ready to take your breeding like a good pup?” You whine and start to teeter. Before you fall, Hobi shuffles over, taking up a position on his knees. Similar to the way that Tae had you earlier. Half in his lap as Namjoon laughs.

“Okay then, I see how it is. Can’t even stay on your knees for your alpha huh? So spoiled you want us to do all the work. Alpha will be nice, Alpha won't make you present. Alpha can breed you any way you want.”

You fall into the nest, legs shaking too much to hold yourself up. Namjoon tuts, before gently turning you over onto your back. Your chest sloshes with the movement. A bit almost? Fuller looking than before? Have you always been so plush there?

You look a little swollen, maybe it's just because of Tae's sucking and Minnie's biting. Hobi pauses, something fuzzy in the back of his head tingling.   

“Alright, I’ll let you lie there like the good little pup you are, no need to hold yourself up for alpha, my spoiled pretty little one.”

Namjoon raises your hand to his mouth and kisses it before he places it on your stomach. Wordless. Letting you feel where he'll claim you.

Namjoon hasn’t had a chance to have you yet either, you’ve been bouncing from Tae's knot to Jimin’s, to Yoongi’s, and back again. The two alpha soulmates are reasonably possessive of you, and you in Omegaspace is something that Yoongi and Tae have the most experience with.

Namjoon’s hands smooth down your stomach appreciative. Almost doting. Waiting until you stop breathing heavily. Until the expansion of your diaphragm becomes less hitching. You'll get worked up either way, but Namjoon does not mind pausing so that you can breathe.

Much like the first time you ever took him. Namjoon lies his cock against your stomach, showing you, measuring how deep he'll penetrate you. He reaches past your belly button.

Between his legs, Hoseok's cock twitches and he resists the temptation to touch. To reach down and fist his knot for a bit of relief.

At the first press of his cock at your hole, you start to scramble and panic, squirming away from the girth, and the thickness, giggling all the while. If Alpha wants you to take his cock, he'll have to make you.

Luckily, Namjoon has backup.

It's all instincts, Hoseok swears it is, but he shuffles forward faster than a lightning bolt to hold your hips. His big hands on your love handles, fingers dimpling in where your body goes soft, holding you still so that Namjoon can press his cock to your hole and push.

Watching you take Namjoon’s cock is…something else.

Hoseok watches your face through it, staring at you through his fringe. Hobi feels want to stir in his gut as you go ridged for a moment and then slump as your body gives and Namjoon pops home. Mouth in a cute little ‘oh’ blinking up at him blearily. Staring straight through him.

Namjoon’s hand's fist in the nest on either side of you, pausing to touch Hobi's hip in thanks before he readjusts for a better angle and his hips push flush with a wet squelch. He stays home for a second, letting you feel all of him. The hot heavy length inside of you. Filling you up so completely so perfectly. His forearms bulge and he trembles and holds himself over you. Straining at holding back.

He savors it, the way your insides go hot and tight. There is no room to clench down, no room left in your tummy. No spot that he can't touch. Namjoon pushes past that hardness and into your womb oh so easily.

It feels like honey, feels like velvet. Fucking an omega in heat, fucking them so deep he goes all the way in is such a novel experience for Namjoon.

Hoseok curses low, and Tae pops her head up from the nest and pillow.

“God that’s so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?” Namjoon pants, knot feeling tight at being watched. But it's there- the little bump in your stomach. It's a small belly bulge at first, but then more prominent as Namjoon pauses, hand on your waist, making your back arch so that it's more visible. Reappearing every time he pushes all the way in.

It’s always a little intoxicating when the rest of the pack watches him. The way you stretch around him is purely pornographic, you really are so small that it looks nearly comical. Looks like it shouldn’t fit. It's hard to choose what to look at, the way your hole parts around him or the reappearing and disappearing bulge.

Even though you've gained weight, and a good layer of healthy chub covers you now, Namjoon is still too big to be hidden. The bulge in your stomach goes from just below your belly button to right above it. You can almost see the ridge of the head of it when he shifts just right.

You hiccup with every slight movement. Namjoon can feel it, the twitch of your diaphragm around his cock. Your hiccupping is so cute that he can’t help but look down at you and coo.

“Oh? Is it a lot? Is it too big pup?”

He thrusts in when you try to speak just to make you choke on your words. Just to make you hiccup again. Tears budding at the corner of your eyes, “Wait until you feel my knot sweet thing, I’ve got it just for you. Gonna keep it warm for me yeah?”

Namjoon takes your hand and presses it over your stomach, making you feel up and down his length while it’s inside of you. “Feel that pup? Feel how well you take alpha?”  

You blink up at him utterly gone, unable to string even a simple ‘yes’ together let alone a coherent thought. All of you is small and surrendered to the feeling of it. The edges of his body go hazy as he bends down to lap at the tears on your cheeks and at your mouth parted, the kiss sloppy and half feral.

The heat in you simmers until you’re bubbling until you're the silvery feeling of molten metal. You're the dripping sugar off of a spoon.

Getting fucked by the pack alpha is the closest thing to religion that you'll ever know. Transforming your body and turning it from a place of pain into pleasure. The closest thing to a drug that you'll ever do. You giggle almost high from it.

Your toes curl and Tae and Jimin shuffle over to watch. Falling into line at Hobi's side. Settling in to get a better view of the pack alpha breeding you. You can't tell if it's embarrassment or the heat that making you feel so hot, so- so-

So wanted. Not possessed but desired. Not lusted after but devoted to.

The pack alpha is here, the pack alpha has you. He's showing you what it means to be a member of his pack, and the others are watching, learning how to breed you, feeling the full weight of his dominance, and waiting their turn like the good alpha's that they are.

They look like they want a turn, hungry eyes roaming your body, staying fixed on your tummy. At Namjoon's bulge popping in and out of existence.

Namjoon is the pack alpha for a reason and that reason makes you choke on your own breath when he slides all the way into the hilt. Hand still pressed over that spot. Feeling himself through you.

When he presses down, you see stars. Spots of bright pleasure dance behind your eyelids. You push at his hand a little panicked, but Namjoon just chuckles down at you.

Jimin shuffles a little too close, a bit too eager, and Namjoon growls. A warning.

Namjoon calms his instincts after a second, still working his cock gently in and out of you. After a second his growl quiets to a purr, and he juts his chin, letting the other alpha's come closer.

The fit is so tight, so tight and wet that you drip down onto the nest. You scrabble, pushing, clawing. Pawing at the nest, trying to find something to hold onto as you feel Namjoon’s gargantuan knot press into your hole. Just as intimidating to take inside your heat as outside of it.

Hobi grabs your hand, holding you through it, wordless, licking his lips and watching.

“Fuck- fuck it’s your fucking slick that has me- fuck-” but Namjoon’s not too embarrassed about popping a knot so quick. It will be a while until he can’t fuck into you. Your body is pliant and poised to take it. But even Jinnie doesn’t make Namjoon lose his cool approximately 2 seconds into fucking.

It’s just your effect on them. Just your slick. It has to be. The alternative is…a bit shameful to consider. Namjoon should be a good alpha, should be perfect, he shouldn’t be so in love with someone that just their hand on his chest can make him cum, but it’s close. It’s perilously close. That’s just the effect you have on them.

“Wan' it, want it please. Please alpha?”

“Ah,” Namjoon’s smile and dimples above you make you blush, more than the knot nudging at your hole. You’ve taken it before, you know you have, but it’s no less daunting. Your body feels no pain this time, none of the strain. “I should stop being so mean, but you make it so cute when you whine and pout, can you forgive Alpha?”  

Namjoon makes you feel so quiet, so dizzy, you let out a little ‘ah ah ah's at every thrust.

Every time his cock goes all the way in there are hands on you. The pack's hands. Feeling up Namjoon’s cock through your body cupping it until he growls. Making the fit feel tighter if that's even possible. someone touches your lips, your chest, your throat. there are hands everywhere on you.

"Come on Hobi don't you want to feel? It's so strange-" you mewl, but it falls on deaf ears as he tentatively reaches out, his growl a pitch higher than Namjoon’s. It rouses not only Yoongi, fluffy head perking up from across the nest but also Jinnie and Jungkook.

The whole pack wakes up to watch the pack alpha knot you.

You're so dizzy, so lost to the feeling of Namjoon fucking you, everything falls over you like ripples. One sensation after another, one packmate after another.

You can’t make your mouth form words, can't say anything as Yoongi leans down and kisses your belly bulge, the unmistakable bump of Namjoon’s cock inside of you. He kisses your mating mark too. Stroking over your cheek.

Namjoon’s stomach goes glossy, and the pleasure ripples over you in unending waves. Like the ocean is tugged along by the moon so is your pleasure tugged along by the attention of your pack. Everyone praises you. Jungkook’s giggle, nuzzling into your stomach. “Pups getting pupped.”

Jin drags his teeth, someone cups your cheeks and preses a kiss to your temple. “Wow, it’s like- so noticeable. I’m sort of surprised can you feel this?”

"Yes." Namjoon's voice is so deep, you've never heard it like this. Jungkook presses down on your tummy making you whimper. He ignores you.

"How about this-" he catches Jungkook's hand, he's heat-addled even if he is momentarily lucid.

"Yes Koo, I can feel it. settle."

Tae tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, “We can tell exactly how far Joonie is inside of you sweetheart, do you like it?”

“So sweet.” Jin presses his face into the bulge, nuzzling into it, scenting it so that everyone knows both of that- all of this is his.

“Hyung, can I go next? I wanna feel it too.”

“Minnie you’ve already had your turn, let Hobi have it, you know how much he loves sloppy seconds.”

Hobi's cheeks are hot pressed to yours, where he nuzzles, hand shy, snaking down to feel too. And you’re so dizzy, so out of it at the attention. It’s so much, having them all here like this. Having them all touch you all at once. It's half worship and half curious, half heat and half molten love.

At their prodding, Namjoon reaches over. Jin and Jungkook sit side by side presenting. Namjoon takes a bit of slick from Jin's hole, and then Jungkook's, gathering it on his knuckles and fingers before he pulls. Out of you and uses it. Rubs it up and down his already glossy cock.

He's extra wet at the tip from cum, from the others that went deep enough that Minnie couldn't quite clean it up. All of it is now pushed out around Namjoon because you simply couldn't all fit.

A tiny drop of it drips down the cleft of your pussy, your entrance winking at them. trying to clench around nothing.

It's a bit of a strange ritual, two omegas showing dominance over another, but you're the lowest omega in the pack so of course your pack alpha needs a marking before he has you. You need to remember who that knot belongs to. You're only allowed to have it because Jinnie and Jungkook say you can (that an because it might be cute, the way you stretch and cry around it)

But it makes you hiccup when he pushes in and you realize you have Jin's and Jungkook's slick making you feel so wet. Not just all the cum. You probably shouldn't be able to feel the difference, but it's almost like it gets a little tingly, everything more sensitive now, the heat and friction, everything heightened.

Honestly, heats are so filthy. You'll blush at half of this once you're cognizant enough to feel embarrassed.

Namjoon takes his cock all the way out to do the same thing again, to re-wet his cock with Jungkook and Jin's slick but there's no need. He takes it out and you clench almost violently. Squirting wet, noisy, messy. All over his cock, all over his thighs and stomach really.

 “Ah fuck.”

“I’m sorry I’m- hng” you try to apologize, but Namjoon does not hear your pleas, eyes fixated between your legs with a curious expression on his face. He takes both of your wrists in his hands, pulling you onto his cock in one hard thrust.

“Sorry for what pup? Sorry for this?”

“wait Joonie- wait-“ you’re panicked but he just grins. Your alpha knows what you can take, he knows and you’ll take what he can give you. He puts it in and takes it out again, and gets the same result.

Wet slick, squirting s bit less than before. Your back arches and you let out that cute little sound again, deep in your throat. A choked dry sob.

Namjoon puts his hand over your pussy the next time he does it, putting it in gently and jerking it out rough, but yeah- you squirt every time, every time your body has to clench closed around the emptiness.

Whatever hidden sensitivity that always makes you so messy is stretched to the breaking point by his cock. your pussy actually might be a little broken with how much you squirt. little dribbles of it near constantly. It’s so hot, so fucking hot that every time he takes it out, you have what must be a mini orgasm, or maybe a full one. Namjoon’s not counting.

Namjoon wonders how many more times you can do that, how many more times he can make you squirt before you’ve got nothing left. Before you’re dry and fucked out and settled.

Alpha’s need to settle their omega’s don’t they? Namjoon shouldn’t stop until you’re empty. Until you're milked dry.

(Yoongi looks to the side of the nest, mentally counting bottles of water and how much you'll need after this).

Namjoon smears your slick across your tummy bulge with a dark laugh.

“So fucking cute-”

Jimin tries to bully his way between your legs, mouth open, almost drooling. But Namjoon pushes at his face the other alpha snarls. Tae has him nearly by the knot and Namjoon glances at her spitting out his orders. His hand stays under your knee while he rocks inside, not giving you a break, not even for a second to punish Jimin.

“Get his collar. If he wants to use his mouth for something productive. He can clean up Jin and Koo.”

You mewl, crying, overstimulated tears wetting your cheeks. crying openly at the feeling of namjoon splitting you open. spots dance in your vision and you feel like you actually are going to pass out.

“Ah, I think she liked that.”

"The growling?"

"Probably Joonie throwing his knot around." Namjoon looks up at Jin a look so feral and dominant it makes the pack omega blush all the way from his ears to his stomach.

"You seemed to like it too when I was knot deep in your-"

Your head lolls to the side. you loose track of time. namjoon's cock twitches inside of you and he keeps fucking you. Each of them, one after the other, bends down to kiss you. You’ve got hands on your cheeks, kisses to your scent gland and someone bends down to give you a hickey and it’s- it’s so much.

Alpha is gonna breed you- gonna breed you so well that you won’t be able to stop it taking. You can tell- cock’s like his aren’t just for nothing. You know that he’s going to knock you up. Your omega is purring in your chest, the heat spiking at the prospect of it so hazy and out of it. 

“Little omega, gonna fill you” he growls out, palm pressed flat to your stomach. “Feel me here yeah?”

You claw at the nest again when Namjoon knots you, choking when he pushes it in, slick dribbles from your clit, you’ve basically been constantly squirting. Through all of it, but the gush when Namjoon’s knot pops home is-

Some of it hits his face. It's so loud, so much. You've never squirted so hard.

warmth fills you from the inside out, so much of it, soaking you on the inside, filling you up. thats the fullness you where craving, the heat your body needed. you settle back against the nest, only half conscious.

Namjoon's fucked you so good, you don't even apologize for squirting all over him.

When Jimin claws his way over after thoroughly cleaning both Jin and Jungkook of the pack’s spend. He laps it from Namjoon’s face. Jin holds his collar through all of it. The slick on his chest, the slick on his neck, his face.

Only once Namjoon is nice and kissed clean, do the pack alpha and pack omega guide Jimin lower.

~-~

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Notes:

well here you go! i listened! i put out a poll the other day asking what you guys wanted me to prioritize, this or the new edited version of chapters 1-5 and i listeneddddd i think i deserve a good kiss for it <3

editing the begining....i don't like this begining, it's too wordy but i couldn't figure out how to cut it down because i know hobi's supposed to sort of be the focous of this chapter but still- it's one of those things where i dont know if its just not interesting because i've read it so many times while editing or if it's just actually not interesting.

i think that hoseok was really worried that he would be afraid of the m/c in heat, but he's actually really afraid for the m/c in heat and that he's not very prepared to handle. he's just a head full of worries isn't he. the more i read the mroe i realize how just anxious he is.

listennnnnnn i kjnow everyone said they didn't like it when i used the word cunnie in the poll but cunnie is my favorite word to use for pussy when the m/c is feeling small and- and- and- it's so /cute/ alright. i can't not use it. she's got a cunnie or a puphole not a pussy. thats just how it is.

in my head, this is the stuffed animal that hobi gets her <3 i chose the one with headphones cuz it reminded me of hobi <3 i argued with myself a little if i should tag this chapter with plushophilia, lmk if i should add it

listen, i know the tenses get fucked at the part where hobi is remembering jimin and tae and the m/c but i honestly don't care. english is my first language but i aim to be as disrespectful with it as possible. the horny brainworms made me dumb. it doesn't matter if its gramatically correct it just matters if it's /hot/

i have this headcannon that jimin actually /does/ become addicted to the m/c's slick. it would start slow, and every time he comes home from work he would kinda...man handle the m/c and eat her out. but then he does it again the next day and then again. and then offers to eat her out in the shower. and then one day when they're having dinner he gets down on his knees instead of eating, and pretty soon he realizes all he thinks about is slick and the pack bring it up and they have to wein him off of it slowly. keeping him on a leash and collar all the time. kept away from the m/c until his hormones calm down and he's not on the edge of rut all the time and he can be normal about it. after that the m/c's slick is only a very very special treat for minnie.

i don't think the m/c realizes it, but the reason /why/ she doesn't like to present is because the scars on her back are on display that way. she doesn't like going back up because i think...thats probably how she was posed when geumjae cut her up. it's very instinctual because she was probably in omegaspace when it happened (poor pup) so her omega is a bit traumatized by it.

i know the alpha's don't mention the marks on her back or her other scars at all, but i think it's because they've started to see her through them? like i don't think they notice them that much anymore because they've just accepted they're apart of her <3

stay tuned for the next chapter! i'll post a teaser for it the second that tumblr removes my ban!

love you <3 glad you came

[f1nalboys]

Come Inside - Chad Meeks-Martin

Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!AFAB!Reader

hi guys. this is the fic that was giving me a massive amount of brain rot today!!! i dreamt this (yeah im lucky i know thank you) and havent been able to stop thinking about it since <3 shout out to tatianna (@castieltrash1) for reading it and doing some editing for me, she is the loml and u all need to follow her NEOW! (in fact, she has a charlie from scream 4 fic in the works and its DELICIOUS.) anyways hope u all enjoy this :3

WORD COUNT: 5384 (I KNOW TRUST ME)

WARNINGS: nsfw, first time sex, dub-con except not really?, chad begs to fuck the reader, male manipulator core, 'just the tip' turns into the full thing, unprotected sex, oral (afab and amab recieving,) dirty talk, praise, slight body worship, slight corruption, slight convincing so again, dub con to be safe, high/drunk sex, reader is more high than chad but neither are drunk but they drank if that makes sense, friends to lovers, im just in love with him you guys! reader wears a dress, chad calls reader good girl and pretty girl. actually proofread bc tati is a saving grace angel lady. <3

You feel him before you hear him. You’re at the bar, nursing your first drink of the night, trying to ignore the dull thud the music was giving you when suddenly there’s a large hand placed on the small of your back. “Can I get another beer?” Chad asks the bartender and you feel yourself relax at the sound of his voice, goosebumps rising on the exposed flesh of your arms as his thumb absentmindedly runs up and down. “Hey.” He tilts his head at you a bit. “Nice earrings.”

“Hi. I could say the same to you.” You look up at him and grin, matching his own wide and easy smile. Chad’s standing right beside you, toned body pressed against yours and you don’t know if it’s on purpose or just due to the crowd. “You having fun?” you ask as the bartender hands him the beer bottle. Chad takes a sip from it, looking down at you, grinning against the glass when he notices you watching the way his lips curve against the opening.

It was no secret in the group that you had a crush on Chad. It was hard not to have one on him; he was kind, funny, handsome as hell, and he always seemed to know just the right thing to say. “Now I am,” he teases and you roll your eyes, turning away from him to hide your grin. Just like that. “I’m getting fuckin’ bored though. Too many people. How about you? You find any lucky guys, Y/N?”

“Lucky guys?”

“You know, to take home?” He wiggles his eyebrows for added effect when you look back up at him. “I’m trying to ask if you’re gonna fuck someone tonight.” You nearly choke on your drink and he laughs, deep in his chest, and his hand which was still on your back begins to rub soothing circles. His hands are rough and calloused from his time playing football and they’re so big, with long thick fingers, and suddenly you’re shaking your head in an attempt to get the image of him using them on you, wherever he sees fit, out of your mind. “I take that as a no, then?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Yeah, no, not fucking anyone tonight,” you say, taking another sip of your drink and sighing. “And now my drink’s empty, the music here is too god damn loud, and you’re right, there’s too many fucking people here!” Shaking your head, you dig into the small clutch you had with you, fishing out a few dollar bills and placing them on the bar counter. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Can I walk you home?” Chad asks, finally removing his hand from your back as you slide out of the bar stool. Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. You had one drink, were the furthest from being drunk you had been in your entire college career, in fact, and you only lived five minutes down the road. “C’mon,” he says, shrugging his broad shoulders and flashing you that fucking smile that always made your knees weak. “It’s late, I just wanna make sure you get home alright.” 

You pretend to think on it, letting out a small ‘hmm’ noise as you tap a finger to your chin. “Fine, but you have to come inside and sober up a bit before you leave.” Chad’s smile doesn’t go away at your request. In fact, it seems to grow. He takes out his wallet and places a few bills beside yours, grabbing the bartender's attention and letting them know you both had paid off your tabs before holding his arm out for you to grab. You do so with a shy smile, trying to ignore the feeling of him under your fingertips, or how close you were to him, or how he kept looking down at you with a smile, or even how his eyes kept darting to your lips. Everything he did seemed to be a deliberate attempt to get you worked up and it always fucking worked.

He leads you out of the club with ease and before you know it you’re out on the New York street. “Which way?” he asks and you nod to the right, following beside him at a slow pace. It was a nice night, a cool breeze helping to offset the hot air that had permeated the city during the day, and the lights and noises of the city still awake helped set you at ease. “You really weren’t having fun in there, were you?”

“Why do you ask?” 

“Because we got out here and you relaxed like you had just gotten out of a fight or flight situation.” He laughs and you smile at the sound. Chad was always grinning, always smiling, but he had been through some tough shit. You used to wonder how he was able to keep this positive attitude but then decided to let it go and try not to dwell on it too much. 

“It was just… too much, you know? Lots of people, lights, that music-”

“I just think you’re old.” You elbow him in the side and he grins. “You are! You sound like my mom.” Chad sniffles and places his free hand on his back, slowing down to an almost complete stop, speaking with a crotchety old-lady voice. “Back in my day, we went to the sock hop! We were pulled by a horse and buggy, not these cars! Your music is too loud, Chady-kins, turn it down!”

You both fall into a fit of laughter, picking back up the original pace you had set. “Chady-kins? Oh, I’m so stealing that.” He shakes his head at you and you giggle, leaning further into his grip. “I mean it! And I’m telling your mom you called her old.” 

You stop walking, finally outside of your apartment building. “Too far,” he says, his smile dropping ever so slightly when you let go of his arm in favor of typing in your door code. “Am I still invited in?” he asks and you look over at him. He’s leaning against the old brick building, the lights of the restaurant across the street bouncing off of his skin and his smile and his eyes and you’re nodding, face burning hot. “Yeah?” His voice is deeper than it was just a moment before and it makes you swallow heavily.

All you can do is nod. 

“Good. M’glad. You know I’m not drunk though, right?” he says as you two walk into your apartment building. He lets you go first, leading the way, but you can feel his eyes on your ass each time you move. You not-so-subtly sway your hips as you walk and you swear you hear him suck in a breath. “Only had a beer and a half before we left, so, no real need to sober up.”

“I’m not drunk either. You can still hang out for a bit, though, if you want?” He hums in agreement and then you’re at your apartment, digging through your purse for your keys. “It’s a little messy in here,” you say sheepishly as you open the door, revealing the mess you had left behind in your attempt at getting ready to go out. Chad just laughs, kicking his shoes off at the door and locking it behind him. “I couldn’t figure out what to wear.”

Your heels are finally off and you hurry around, picking up the pile of clothes you had left on your bed and floor, shoving them in your closet and hamper. “Well I’d say you landed on something good,” Chad says from the kitchen, his voice muffled as he bends down and peers into your fridge. “Because you look fucking hot.” You squeak out a thank you and busy yourself at your desk, fixing up the few items you had left out and trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, poking your head over and seeing Chad in the living room. He turns around and holds up the ashtray you had left on your coffee table, an unsmoked blunt still on it. “You wanna smoke?” you ask and he nods. “Go ahead. You want something to drink?”

“Water’s fine. You’re not gonna smoke with me?”

“I don’t know,” you say, passing by him as you head into the kitchen to grab two water bottles for the both of you. “I get sorta… weird when I smoke.”

“Weird? Weird how?” Chad asks and you hear the sound of your lighter sparking as he sits back on your small couch with a groan. “Do you, like, talk about conspiracies or some shit? Because I’ve smoked with Mindy before and it’s either that or her talking about whatever girl she’s in love with that day.” You chuckle, face heating up as you turn around and see him on the couch. He’s sitting with his legs spread and you realize instantly how well-fitted his jeans are, tight around his thighs. His head is back on the couch looking up, eyes closed as he takes another hit. Smoke plumes around him in a lazy rolling fog. 

You nudge him with the bottle and he takes it with a thank you. Sitting down beside him, you tuck your legs up, knees pressed against his thigh. God, his thigh. You look away from them, opening up your own bottle of water and taking a few slow sips, the image of you riding his thigh, his hands on your hips, building in your mind. 

“So? How weird is weird?” Chad questions, holding the blunt out to you. You consider it for a second, eyes flicking between it and his face which was turned towards you. You couldn’t tell Chad that the ‘weird’ you got was different from what he was imagining. You didn’t spout off conspiracies about the government, or get paranoid. You got horny, and being around him would only make that ‘weirdness’ worse. The days alone when you would smoke, you’d find yourself in bed, hand between your legs, moaning his name. “C’mon.” 

It’s all the encouragement you need and you pluck it from his fingers and settle back into the faux leather of your couch. “There you go,” he says, taking the time to let his eyes drag down your body while you’re taking a hit.

The dress you wore fit you great, tight against your body, the color complimenting your skin tone. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since he saw you tonight from across the bar, nursing his drink for ten minutes before Mindy had shoved him towards you, telling him that if he didn’t make a move on you she would on his behalf. And now here he was, smoking with you, so close on the couch that he could practically feel your pulse under his skin. He wanted you so badly and everything that came with it, the good and the bad. 

The two of you pass the blunt back and forth a few times, talking about nothing in between, but you were being affected far more than Chad was. “Are you even inhaling?” you ask with a giggle, passing it back to Chad. He rolls his eyes, taking a large hit in order to prove that he was. “Alright, alright. Show off,” you mutter, blinking heavily. “How come it’s hitting me harder than you?” you whine, shaking your head when he offers the blunt back to you. “I can barely even think straight. M’all… fuzzy.”

“I’m cooler than you, duh,” Chad says with ease, taking a hit and waiting for your laughter to die down before blowing the smoke into your face. You let him, blinking, pupils wide. He thinks you look pretty normally, but he thinks you look beautiful like this. He leans over and places the roach onto the ashtray, sighing as he leans back, his left hand resting on your thigh. You swallow heavily, your vision fuzzy. Your dress had ridden up quite a bit now and his hand was so warm against your flesh. He’s looking at you with such an intense look it has you squirming, face hot when he laughs at you. “I wanna kiss you.”

You blink, sure you misheard him. “What?”

“I wanna kiss you. Like,” he laughs, shaking his head slightly. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the lamplight, the whites of his eyes red, pupils blown out. “So fucking bad.” His other hand, the one that had been resting on his thigh, comes up and he places it on your cheek. His thumb runs along your cheek, catching the corner of your mouth. His touch is gentle but everything is so intense still, your skin feeling like it’s on fire, burning against his own. “Can I? Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes when he grins and leans in. The kiss is slow, each movement of his lips done with a purpose. His hand drags from your cheek to the base of your neck, pushing you into his kiss, his touch, just a bit more. You follow his lead with ease, mind too hazy to try and take over. 

He pulls away for a moment to catch his breath, staring into your eyes. “Fuck,” he mutters and he’s kissing you again, harder this time, sloppy. His tongue is slipping inside your mouth and you let out a soft moan, his hand on your thigh dragging upwards, pushing past the fabric. “So fucking hot,” He mutters against your lips, and then you can feel the top of his fingers brush against your underwear, right over your hips, and you’re pushing his hand away gently. “What? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m okay.” He’s still looking at you, hands dropping to his sides, and he looks worried. You can tell he’s wracking his brain for what he did, if he had gone too far somehow. “I’m a virgin.” You blurt it out and squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed. When you had felt his fingers up your skirt it had hit you that if it continued he’d be touching you, that you want him to touch you, but that you weren’t sure if he’d want to.

“So?” Your eyes pop open. Chad is staring at you with a kind smile, dimple evident on his cheek, and you feel your face heat up. “I mean, I’m okay with it if you are, you know?” His hand’s on your leg again, fingers dragging up and down your thigh slowly. “Are you nervous about it?”

“I didn’t know if you’d be alright with it.”

“Well, I am. Besides, wouldn’t it be good to lose it to me?”

“What do you mean?”

Chad’s smile grows and he leans in, lips close to yours. You close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. “You know me, right?” You hum. You want him to kiss you again. “You trust me too, right?” Another hum and this time you're leaning in a little bit, a whine stuck in your throat when he pulls away. “Then you should know that I’d make you feel good. I’d take my time when I touch you,” His hand is up your dress again and your body jerks involuntarily into his touch. “That I’d take good care of you and your virgin pussy.” 

He brushes his fingers up your inner thigh and your legs spread instantly, giving him room. He grins at the sight of you, eyes closed, disheveled, breathing hard, legs spread and hand gripping his forearm. “Please?” you ask and then he’s kissing you, finally, and his fingers are brushing against your clothed clit. You keen into his touch, whining into his lips, but he doesn’t stop. 

His fingers begin to rub slow circles against you, a good amount of pressure, and it feels so different from when you touch yourself thinking of him. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that this is happening, but everything is almost too much. You’re surrounded by him in every way possible, his very being filling your own body, replacing your own needs. All you want is for him to feel good, for him to moan, for him to gasp at each press of your hand against him, for him to be begging for more without even realizing he’s doing it. 

You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel.

“More?” Chad asks, parroting your own words back to you with a smile, taking his lips away from your own, his fingers speeding up. His nose is brushing against your neck before he’s kissing it, biting down against your pulse gently, soothing it with his tongue. “Bet you’re close aren’t you, Y/N?” His voice is right there in your ear, breath hot against your skin, but you can barely focus on that. “C’mon, be good for me and cum, okay? Please? Fuck, need you to cum so bad, baby.”

“Gonna-” Is all you get out before he’s biting down onto your neck again and pressing down hard onto your clit and then you’re cumming, nails digging into his arm, a moan stuck in your throat. “F-fuck, Chad, shit!” His fingers don’t slow down for a second but he’s moving off of you, pushing your dress up your body and pulling your underwear down in one fell swoop. 

He shoves your legs apart and you take a second to catch your breath, looking down at him as he slides down the length of the couch. His eyes are glued to your pussy, fingers swiping through your folds and popping them into his mouth with a groan. “Taste so fucking good, so sweet,” he says, prodding at your hole with his middle finger, looking up at you. “Can I taste you?”

You nod, heart hammering out of your chest, and watch as he leans in, breathing in deep, eyes fluttering closed. As his tongue flicks over your clit he pushes his finger inside you slowly, just to the first knuckle, and your hip bucks at the intrusion, forcing his thick finger deeper inside you. 

“Relax, it’s okay,” he soothes, watching your eyes squeeze at the feeling. His fingers were thick, stretching you out with just one, and his tongue kept moving, swirling around your clit and sending shockwaves up your body. You try to focus on relaxing your body and when he feels you do so he pushes his finger in all the way. “There you go, good girl,” he coos, spitting onto his finger as he begins to pump it inside you. 

Chad is moving slowly, finger pumping in and out at a snail's pace, tongue moving even slower somehow. It almost hurts how slow he’s going and you know it’s to prepare you, to make you want him more than you already did. He wanted you drunk on his touch. “Faster,” you gasp and you can feel him laugh against you. “More, please, Chad?” You feel another finger press at your hole and you could cry, your body begging for more. 

The stretch is only a little painful, his tongue helping to soothe the ache. You can feel the knot in your stomach growing with each quickening pump of his finger, each swirl of his tongue, and you swear you see stars when he scissors his fingers inside you. One of your hands grabs onto his head, pulling his head in closer to your cunt, hips rocking up to meet his fingers and tongue, grinding against him. 

You cum without warning, your cry caught in your throat when he pushes in a third finger. It was too much. Your brain was still fuzzy from smoking and everything he was doing to you was heightened. You could feel every taste bud on his tongue as he flicked it against your clit, every groove in his fingers as they pumped inside you. 

“Ok, ok, too much,” you get out and he stops, finally pulling away from you. His fingers are coated in your cum and you watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he sucks on one of his fingers, groaning at the taste of you, before holding his other two fingers out for you. They press against your lips and your mouth parts, tongue sticking out, and you wrap your lips around them as he pushes them inside. 

“Don’t you taste good?” he asks with a grin, leaning over you, his free hand resting on the arm of the couch beside your head. You hum, swirling your tongue around his digits. Your hands begin to fiddle with his belt, tugging at it, and he grins. “Wanna suck my cock, that it?” You nod, his fingers still inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Yeah, I bet you do. Bet you’ve thought all about my cock inside your pretty mouth haven’t you? Fuck, you’re so pretty, you know that?”

You grin, running your hand down his face, mimicking what he had done to you earlier, thumb brushing against the corner of his lips.“You’re pretty,” you say, compliment muffled by his fingers in your mouth, and he gives you a soft laugh, his head falling to hide his grin. He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to your lips. “Wanna touch you,” you whine, going back to working on his belt. 

“Whatever you want, baby,” he says, leaning back and shoving his jeans down. He leans backward on the couch, jeans tossed onto the floor, his cock straining against his underwear. You’re practically salivating by the time you are leaning over him, placing soft kisses over the fabric of his underwear, looking up at him through your lashes. “Hey, I didn’t tease you,” he says with a sigh, eyelids heavy with lust at the feeling. He had been hard since he kissed you and the taste of you was still lingering on his tongue and he swears it‘s fucking him up more than the weed did. 

You finally tug at his underwear, pulling them down just enough to pull his cock out. He grabs your wrist, turning your hand palm up and spitting in it, giving you a wink before leaning back, arms behind his head as he enjoys the show. “I’ve never…” you say, suddenly nervous. It was clear to you that Chad had experience in this regard with how easily he had made you cum and you were beginning to worry that you were in over your head, too nervous and inexperienced and high to make sure you did alright.

“That’s alright,” he says, giving you a soft smile, one that instantly quells your anxiety. “Just take your time with it, okay? There’s plenty of time for me to teach you, okay, pretty girl?” You nod, wrapping your spit-slick hand around his cock and he hisses, head tilting back as you begin to stroke him. You start off slow, tightening your grip at the base of his cock and loosening it when you get to the top, swiping your thumb over the tip. “Fu-uck,” he says, tripping over his words with a laugh and a thick swallow. “You sure you’ve never done this before? Feels fucking amazing, Y/N.” 

Leaning down, you keep your eyes on him as you lick over the tip of his cock, collecting the bead of precum there and swallowing it. He groans and you can feel him throb under your hand. You flatten your tongue and lick from the base of his cock up to the tip, following the prominent vein he had, and his hips buck at the feeling. This is exactly how you wanted him; his eyebrows scrunched together, eyes struggling to stay open at the feeling of you, him fucking into your fist with an eagerness he couldn’t control. You were making him feel good and fuck, it went straight to your cunt. 

You don’t try to take all of him in your mouth. It was like he said; there would be plenty of time for him to train your throat, just like he had always dreamt of. You keep your hand on him, moving at the same pace, and you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, swallowing around it. He was big, bigger than any toy you had used before at the very least, and when you take him a bit further down he bucks his hips, plunging his cock down your throat. You gag and pull off of him and he’s apologizing.

“Sh-shit, sorry! Sorry, Y/N, just, fuck, your throat felt so good, couldn’t help it. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a kiss and you know he’s sorry but even if he wasn’t you wouldn’t care. It hits you then, while his tongue is down your throat and his hand is cupping your cheek, that you’d let him do anything to you and that you’d thank him for it. “Can I fuck you?” he asks, pulling away from your lips and resting his forehead on yours. 

“I don’t know…” you start, chewing on your bottom lip. “You’re big… it’s gonna hurt.”

“How about just the tip, then? If you want more we’ll keep going, if not, that’s fine.” You ponder the offer for a second. He told you he’d take care of you, that he’d take his time, make sure it felt good for you. “Don’t you trust me, baby?” You do trust him. You know him, just like he said. You nod and he smiles. “Good girl. Okay, let's go to the bed, yeah? I’ll get you out of this sexy fucking dress and I’ll make sure you feel good, alright baby?”

He helps you stand and keeps kissing you, unzipping your dress as he moves you through the apartment, pulling your straps down. The dress is pulled off of you a second before your knees hit the back of the bed and you’re both falling onto it, giggling. “Hi,” you say, hands on his shoulders. He grins.

“Hi.” Chad stands, pulling his shirt off and tugging his underwear off, tossing both somewhere behind him. You both take a moment to stare at the other, nervous giggles leaving your lips. You had dreamt of this moment dozens of times before, had cum to it just as often, and now it was happening and it was somehow better than what you had ever thought up. “Look at you,” he says, hands dragging up your legs to your chest and back down again. He’s slotted in between your legs and you whine, wrapping one leg around him and pulling him in closer. “Use your words.”

It’s the first time he was really telling you to do something and you swallow heavily. “Please, Chad, can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Can you fuck me? Please? I want you to take my virginity so badly, I need it, please? I’ve thought about it so much, wanted it for so long.” You’re whining now, begging, and you swear you can feel the tears begin to fill your eyes. He’s smiling down at you and his eyes are so dark you’re not sure how much of his iris is left. Your legs spread for him when he nods and you watch with bated breath as he grabs ahold of his cock, spitting on it, before swiping up your slit.

He groans at the feeling. “So wet, baby. Bet your pussy will let me just slide right in.” He pushes the head of his cock in slowly and you gasp, tears filling your eyes at the stretch. It felt good but it hurt and you can feel him rocking his hips ever so slightly, pulling out and pushing back in, never going too far inside you. His hands are on your thighs, digging into your flesh, and you’re overwhelmed again. 

The two of you stay like this a moment, the head of his cock pushed inside, your cunt clenching around him desperately. When he leans down over you, resting his forearms beside your head, he pushes in just a bit more and you whimper at the feeling. Chad wipes a stray tear off of your cheek and kisses you, short soft kisses in an effort to distract you from the pain and him from the overwhelming urge to push all the way in.

“Can I move more?” he whispers against your lips and you shake your head a little, too fuzzy to really think about it. “Please?” he whines, nuzzling into your neck. “Don’t I feel good, baby? Doesn’t my cock feel good inside you?”

“It does-”

“It’ll feel even better all the way inside.” His voice sounds so desperate and now he’s rocking his hips further, plunging another inch inside you and you moan because he’s right, it does feel good. The burn and pain of the stretch have gone away, giving way to pleasure. You want more, you want him, you just don’t know how to say it. “Please, baby, fuck. Your cunt feels so good, so fucking tight and wet and fuckin’ perfect for me. Let me fuck you, god, I need it so bad. Don’t you trust me? You know I’ll take care of you, right?”

You nod, babble out some response close to ‘yes, please, more,’ and then he’s pushing all the way inside, hips snapping forwards. You yelp at the intrusion, caught off guard by how full you feel, and then he’s thanking you over and over and over again as he sets a brutal pace. Chad’s weight is fully on you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. He can’t get enough of your skin against his, of the noises you make, of the way your pussy clenches around him and pulls him in closer, milking his cock. 

“Thank you, oh fuck, thank you, Y/N. Christ, so tight.” His voice is cracking, raising an octave as he begins to lose himself in the feeling of you around him. The pain of his thrusts is quickly overtaken by the pleasure and you’re moaning, wrapping your legs around his hips, driving him deeper inside you. You both could die happy like this. “So close, fuck, how am I so close already?” He’s talking more to himself than you at this point and that’s okay because you’re too focused on the building pleasure in your gut to care. 

The position you’re in has his pelvis grinding against your clit with each thrust and you swear your mind melts just a little bit more each time he fucks into you. “Please, please, please,” you say and you’re not sure what you’re pleading for but all you know is you don’t want him to fucking stop. You’re right there on the edge, can feel it through your entire body, and then Chad is moaning your name loudly and you feel him cum inside you, hips flush against yours.

You cum at the feeling of him filling you and he whines, hips rocking as you pulse around him. He’s sensitive, his head swimming, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, his head in your neck and your arms and legs wrapped around him. “So good,” he finally says, pulling his head back to look at you, his eyebrows stitching together. “You okay? M’sorry, I got carried away, I didn’t even ask-”

“It’s alright,” you say, running your hands up and down his back. You can feel him shiver underneath your touch. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?” he teases, kissing you on the lips a few times, biting down on your bottom lip as he pulls back. “Wanna do it again?”

You gasp as his hips begin to move again, the squelch of your cunt and his cum being fucked back into you filling the room. “Y-you wanna go again? Already?” He nods, hand snaking down in between you two, pressing against your sensitive clit and grinning when you whine. “If you can handle it.” You nod despite not knowing if you could; he grins. “My good girl, right? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you cum till you’re stupid. You’ll look so pretty when you’re dumb on my cock, won’t you?”

[daddyhausen]

shooting my shot with this request, but would you be interested to write some Trent Beretta/reader post-match with OC angry/sad smutty headcanons?

• angry/angst sex headcannons — trent beretta •

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{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { trent beretta masterlist }

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{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact } rough sex, angry sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, male orgasm, biting,, internal cumshots, vaginal creampie

{ word count } — 418

{ pairing } — fem!reader x trent beretta

{ genre } — smut

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{ taglist } — @stxrrlightwrites13 @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @legit9thlunaticwarrior @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @baybay-boom @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @eddie-kingstons-wifey @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

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trent was fuming

more than normal after loosing a match

you had found him pacing back and forth in the now empty locker room

everyone had cleared out after hearing him throw a fit

“babe, calm down, it was only a match”

you tried to reason with him

although the sound of your voice was music to his ears, your words seemed to stab him in the chest like a dull blade

“only a match?” he reiterated, eyed widened in faux shock

“no offence to orange but i clearly had that match won”

he tired to calm himself, although the memory of losing to his best friend only pained him more

“i was so fucking close, i could taste it!”

his nails dug into the arm rest of the couch

a sensation that would make your skin crawl with uneasiness

“hey…sit down”

you grabbed him lightly by the shoulder, guiding him to the couch

practically forcing him to sit, keeping him there by straddling his lap, arms wrapped around his neck

“you did the best you could-”

“seems like my best is not good enough” he grumbled, cutting you off

“don’t say that!” you slapped his chest lightly

“i’m still proud of you, though”

his gaze softened slightly, as an exasperated sigh left his lips.

he turned to you, pressing a small kiss the the inside of your forearm

“how about i help take your mind off it, hmm?”

he cocked an eyebrow questioningly, before quickly getting the hin

settling back into the couch

“well…what are you waiting for?”

you quickly stripped your lower half

prying your shorts and panties down your thighs

kicking them off beside the couch

trent was more haphazard with with movements

simply freeing his cock from his ring gear

you wasted no time straddling him again

lifting your hips up slightly, slowly sinking down on his cock

trent, ever the impatient man, grabbed your hips, holding you still as he slammed up into you

using you as his very own personal fleshlight

“god, baby. you feel so fucking good” he barely managed to croak out through a moan

you gave a soft hum in resposnse, teeth baring themselves into his shoulder as his speed increased

“fuck…i’m cumming, baby”

his hands wrapped around your waist, clinging to your frame as he filled you up

he sighed in relief, feeling his cock thrum against your tight walls

“why don’t we go back to the hotel? i gotta give my girl an orgasm in return”

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