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clubdionysus · 25 days

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[BAD DECISION #23] Cherry Picking

warnings: ohhhhh we have arrived!! okay! a lil (not so) dry hump, bird manipulation!!, panty sniffing!! panties in mouth??, titty sucking, fingering, oral (f receiving), jungkooks nose <3, kissing !!! oh god the loveliest of kisses!!! unprotected sex, 'baby', cum on tits, jk cleans her up with his tongue! a gentleman! over stimulation, squirting, (just friendly tho!!)

soundtrack: diamonds - luke hemmings, finally // beautiful stranger - halsey, ruin the friendship - demi lovato

a/n: just two updates tonight as it cuts off at the perfect place!

wc: 15k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"They'll be wondering where you are," you say quietly, as the door behind you clicks shut. There's a slight rustle - the synthetic material of your padded jacket rubbing against itself - when Jeongguk comes to stand behind you, before he drapes it over your shoulders.

"Shouldn't start the New Year with a cold," he simply states stepping over the stone bench to sit down beside you. It's cold beneath his body, but he's got his coat on too. You've a hand warmer in each pocket, so pass one over to him. "Thanks."

"I mean it, Gguk," you double down, voice soft. "It's nearly time."

He just shrugs. Looks up to the sky.

You're in the tiny courtyard that's attached to the staffroom; Jeongguk's secret hiding spot for when he needs to escape from the chaos of Dionysus. There are some sheets of plywood in the corner that Jeongguk needs to take over to Yoongi's studio, but he's still putting off the expansions his boss wants doing. Doesn't want to lose his little sanctuary just yet.

It feels like he's losing more and more comforts day by day.

His final university deadlines are approaching, and he's gonna have to decide if he stays comfortable or does something far more terrifying a lot sooner than he's really ready for.

Change can be daunting, so he's choosing to keep things as they are as much as he can. Feels safer that way. The curse of Jeon Jeongguk is his ability to let his fears control his life. He's always been this way. Fears he always will be. The irony isn't lost on him.

"They'll be wondering where you are, too," he says. Thinks that Danbi must be running around like a headless chicken trying to find you - but also knows she was holding Tae's hand as she was glancing around before he left, so maybe she'll be a bit distracted. Thinks it's about time. Tae's been looking at her like a lovesick pup for weeks, now. Months, even.

"Jiyeong-" You begin, but are cut off by Jeongguk.

He doesn't want to talk about her. Doesn't wanna have to explain what happened, because it feels embarrassing and bothersome. Pity looks so pretty on your features, but he doesn't want to be the recipient of such a gentle look.

"-Isn't gonna be a part of next year," he says. Though his tone isn't stern, it is incredibly final .

You bring your gaze down from the skies, and rest your chin on your shoulder to look at Jeongguk. His eyes are still searching for stars - the light pollution proves to make it impossible - chin tilted upward, dewy nose to the sky. His skin is beginning to blush from the cold. His lips are thin; folded in on themselves, lip ring shining ever so daintily as it flips in the corner of his mouth.

You've missed watching his piercing do the thing. When you've as much alcohol in your system as you do, you find it makes your tummy flip, too. It's silly of your body to behave like that. Drunk or not, Jeongguk is still just Jeongguk.

From the club, you can hear the echoes of a chant. The countdown has begun. If you ask questions now, he'll just brush them off.

You're a little too tipsy to really comprehend what he means, either way.

"We should go back inside," you whisper, eyes still on him, your chin denting down into the thick padding of your coat. You always think you look like an emo Michelin baby whenever you wear it. If Jeongguk heard the comparison, he'd laugh. Would agree.

When he turns to look at you, he barely notices the coat. Just thinks you look cosy. Is pleased to find the stars right here on Earth, instead.

"Won't make it in time," he says.

"Could try?"

"Why bother?"

"'Cause you should be around people who care about you when it hits twelve," you say, a little pout on your lips. He's being difficult.

And then he just shrugs. Knocks into your shoulder. Smiles. "Are we not already?"

There's silence for a moment. Just a second.

The sky above you both begins to sparkle; greens and blues erupting where darkness once was. They scatter into the night; pinks and yellows spiralling just like your mind so often does whenever Jeongguk speaks in riddles.

You're aware that the fireworks are deafening, but you're oblivious to the sound. All you can hear is the beating of your own heart. The explosions shimmer in Jeongguk's eyes, but it's still only stars you can see in them.

"Happy New Year," Jeongguk says quietly. Smiles tenderly. Fills you with a warmth that the frigid winter night had previously stolen. He doesn't look at your lips. Makes no indication that he's thinking about a New Year's kiss.

There are a dozen girls in that room who'd have jumped at the chance to lock lips with him, even if just for a moment as the bells rang out, and yet he's chosen to be with you.

He could have been with Hayun.

And yet he's chosen to be with you.

"Happy New Year," you smile right back. The exchange is soft, like mid-winter snow; warm like a breeze on a summer's day. Secure like a three-pin-padlock; secret, like the code written in the back of an old notebook.

"Hey, B?" He says quietly, eyes still on yours. The sky flashes a myriad of colours. They rain down on him; paint him better than Picasso ever could.

"Mhmm?"

He grins. You think his lip ring looks so pretty. Teeth, too. Pearly and perfectly proportioned for him.

"Stop looking at my lips," he teases. "Gonna make me think you wanna kiss me."

A gasp escapes your lips. You look away. Cover your mouth. Can't believe how fucking obvious you must have been.

"I was just..." you begin to excuse yourself, but then laugh. Choose honesty. "I was actually just thinking about the fact you missed out on a New Years Kiss."

Jeongguk shrugs in that boyish way he so often does, as if he has no care for the arbitrary realities of life. C'est la vie . He looks up to the skies, and lets his smile linger as the illuminations paint the midnight skies.

"Got all year for kisses, B. Only one chance to see the New Year in with my best friend."

And maybe it's because you've been rattled by Hayun, or maybe it's because he's one of the only good things to have come out of the past year, but hearing him claim you as his best friend makes you feel like a weight has been lifted.

"Best friend?" You question, just to make sure.

He nods. "Best friend."

It's laughable, really, how those two words take aim at the arrows shot by Hayun, and knocks them off course before they can really implode on your heart. Just a surface scratch, now. That's all.

"What about Jimin?"

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side. Considers it. "Family."

You're pleased to hear the conclusion of his consideration. You've a shared history with Jimin that could make things awkward between the three of you, and yet you all chalk it up to dumb drunk choices. Aren't the first you've ever made. Won't be the last.

"Be weird if I said you were like family, too," Jeongguk adds - then feels the need to clarify, even though he totally doesn't. "Fucked you. Would make for weird family gatherings."

You laugh. Nod. "Yeah. Probably best you don't ever tell girls I'm like a sister or anything like that," you muse.

He laughs, too, but doesn't say anything. Thinks of Hayun, and how he knows you had definitely had a spat with her before you left. Wants to know what was said. Knows it will be about him. Doesn't want to sour your mood. Is quite conflicted.

Luckily for him, your mind works in a similar way, and your filter is next to non-existent when you've had as many drinks as you have.

"I thought Hayun was your best friend."

Jeongguk looks over to you, his eyes a little hard, brows pinching above his nose. You don't look at him. The fireworks are dwindling, now.

"Friendships change," he admits candidly.

Won't tell you how the second he heard someone asking for star fuckers, he assumed it was you .

Won't tell you how he recited lines - already said to you - to her, because he wasn't comfortable enough in her presence to let his brain think of anything original. Went for something safe. Went for something nurtured with you.

Won't tell you how much the way you've subtly distracted him - with glitter and nonsensical conversations - throughout the night has helped him get his head straight.

Won't tell you how watching you leave felt like a sucker punch to the chest.

Won't tell you that he didn't even consider going over to his friends, because in that moment he was furious with the fact Hayun had made you want to leave so close to midnight. He likes to think it wasn't intentional, but celebrating with her while you would have been alone? Didn't seem like something worth celebrating at all.

If he hadn't been distracted (as always) by your disco ball eyes, and the way light shines from your very being, he never would have known you were speaking with her. Never would have seen her do that thing with her eyes - the cold, vacant, roll of them he used to know so well - that he hated so much. Never would have realised you were leaving.

You'd have spent New Year's by yourself, away from the people who love you, cold and quiet.

And it would have been her fault.

Mentally, he excuses her bad behaviour; tells himself it's probably a mix of alcohol and someone new taking her place that made her hostile.

But when he looks at you, and acknowledges the sadness that imposes on your features, the guilt creeps in. He blames himself . If he'd have introduced you two, maybe it would have gone differently. If Jiyeong hadn't been so rude to her, maybe Hayun wouldn't have been so malevolent with you.

Absolving Hayun of blame is something Jeongguk's been doing for years. Patterns of behaviour are easy to acknowledge; difficult to end.

He's trying. He's here. That counts for something.

You think Jeongguk is right. Friendships do change. You're scared that Hayun's presence will change yours.

"When do you clock off?" You ask, instead of venturing any further down the road of a topic you don't think will benefit either of you.

Jeongguk raises his wrist - the one without his watch on it - and hums. Pretends to read it. Makes you giggle.

"About five minutes ago."

The skies have settled once more. The only stars he can see are ones in his peripherals; the specks of glitter on his skin, and the girl beside him.

The chill of a winter freeze is sobering you up. You know that you probably can't walk straight, but you can think straight, and that's absolutely outrageous, as far as you're concerned. The night is still young and - as Jimin said - so are you. The heaviness in your heart is ageing you. You don't care for it.

"Starfuckers?" you propose - and the way Jeongguk smiles has you wishing you'd asked earlier.

"Thought you'd never ask," he grins, but catches himself.

Decides he needs to give you a little context on Jiyeong before continuing the night, 'cause he doesn't wanna talk about it when he's a few shots too deep to be sensible about things.

"Jiyeong gets really... argumentative when she drinks."

His slow speech makes it evident how careful he's trying to be. You know what it really means. Knows she must have said something awful for him to be mentioning it now.

"Was it bad?" you ask, a little clueless, and hating it.

Jeongguk nods. Bites the bullet. Doesn't look at you as he says, "She threw a drink on me."

"She what?!"

Jeongguk smirks, not because he finds it funny, but because he finds it awkward. Rolls his eyes, and shakes his head. "Was at the bar. Fucking mortifying ."

You study his face, looking for signs you might have missed.

"Where did she get you?" You ask, but realise as soon as your question finishes. You gasp again. Can't believe you hadn't thought to ask earlier. "The outfit change?!"

He confirms your suspicions. "Anyways, I'm sort of... done with her."

His hesitation is genuine, not because he's unsure of his choice, just because he's still worried about letting you down.

To his surprise, you're the one apologising.

The weight in your chest when he admits that he doesn't want to be with her is catastrophic. You thought you had picked well for him. You really thought maybe you'd helped him. You feel like the failure.

"Gguk, if I'd have known she was like that, I never would have set things up. I'm so so sorry. You didn't deserve that whatsoever."

"Not your fault," he says, offering you a sincere smile. "Just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes."

He's downplaying it, and you both know it. He doesn't want to talk about it though, so you won't push. Not now. Another time, yes.

Thing is, neither of you are at fault. C'est la vie.

"You know how many stars there are?" You ask, in a bid to change the subject to something a little easier to digest.

Jeongguk shakes his head. "Not a clue, B."

"Oh," you say quietly. "Thought you might. Always mumbling stuff about the stars, you are."

He smiles to himself. Thinks it's hardly a surprise.

Deflects, and asks, "You know much about manure?"

"What?" You chirp, then laugh. What a bizarre question. "No?"

"Oh," he hums, mimicking you. "Thought you might. Always chatting shit."

You tell him to fuck off, so he gets to his feet - but holds his hand out for you.

"C'mon," he knocks his head to the side. "Let's go get fucked up."

It's quarter past twelve by the time you make it back to your friends, Jeongguk double fisting drinks 'cause he's so far behind everyone else and needs to get fucked up.

It doesn't take much - four double dark rum and cokes, three purple starfuckers - for him to be doing the robot in a strange sort of avant-garde dance battle with Hobi and Jimin. You're not really sure what you're looking at as Jeongguk moves his body in a way you never need to see him move his body - but you find it hilarious. He's both smooth and awkward in his movements. None of it quite makes sense.

You smile through it all. Endlessly. Affectionately. Adoringly.

And then you're laughing, too.

Might just be the vodka. Might be the nerves of Hayun's eyes being on you. Most likely, it's because Jeongguk looks ridiculous. So sexy in one moment, and so goofy in the next.

You never know what's coming next. He almost stumbles over to you as you nurse on a drink by the sofas. Regains his balance. Tries to play it cool. Is suave as he says, "you good down there, B?" - but then he sinks down into the sofa beside you, a silly grin on his rum-drunk lips. You find that you'd welcome all his surprises, good or bad.

He hiccups. Scolds himself. Asks you how you are. Hiccups again. Listens as you tell him to hold his breath. Hiccups as he's doing it. Gives up. Hiccups freely.

He's still got a drink in his hand, so you take it from him and have a sip or two. He doesn't protest. Rabbits on about something neither of you will remember in the morning. The club lights hit him in all the right places, making his glittered cheekbones appear even more majestic than they already were.

"More glitter," you muse. "You need more glitter."

"Y'know," he slurs, looking all very poised and serious, a finger pointing as he speaks. "I was thinking the exact same thing."

He chats absolute shit while you dapple his cheeks with more pretty sparkles. They match his eyes, now.

You've managed to avoid Hayun since returning, and you're secretly pleased that Jeongguk has done the same.

Aside from a few awkward glances when you both arrived back to greet your friends, he's deliberately steered clear. Wants an orderly mind before they speak again.

He's still disgruntled by the fact you found her so intolerable you were willing to spend New Year alone just to not be near her. Trusts you. Trusts your judgement (even if you did set him up with Jiyeong). Trusts you always see the good in people, but knows you struggled to see the good in her.

Thinks maybe life would have been easier if he met you first.

Hayun over by the bar with Nabi and Tae. They seem to be her closest friends amongst the circle. Yoongi didn't say a single word to her all night, but Seoyeon was pretty friendly with her.

They left just after midnight, and were gone by the time you and Jeongguk returned from the courtyard. Namjoon's working the early shift tomorrow - "the news isn't gonna write itself" - so he'd dipped with them, too.

Like Yoongi, Jimin gives Hayun the cold shoulder. It's expected, given how close he is to Jeongguk.

You're unaware of the fact that she and Jimin go way back. Knew each other as kids. If anyone should have still been pally with her, it would be him - but he's the only one who knows how much Jeongguk suffered because of her. He knows the situation almost as well as he knows the plotline for The Notebook, and considering that it's his go-to hangover movie (while also considering how often he's hungover), it's safe to say he's got a decent understanding of it.

Jimin will never be on Hayun's side. He told her years ago that this would be the consequence of her dicking Jeongguk around, and is a man of his word when it comes to his friends. Used to really eat him up, how easily she let go of their friendship. Counts it as a blessing, now.

As he stands by the bar and notices what's going on with you, Jeongguk and a tube of liquid glitter, he smiles. Doesn't have a clue what happened with Jiyeong. Doesn't care. Really couldn't give a shit for any other girl in Jeongguk's life. Is just glad he has you.

You've been good for him.

"What's going on with them?" Hayun asks as she joins him at the bar. Is a little annoyed Jeongguk has been so... avoidant. It's a change to the norm. Jeongguk doesn't do change. Something feels... off.

Jimin's smile fades. She still tries to be his friend. It annoys him. "Nothing."

She laughs. It's insincere.

"I've got a pair of eyes, Jimin. He's sat there like a lovesick puppy while some girl covers him in fucking glitter," she sneers.

"So? Your point?"

"It's fucking weird."

Jimin rolls his eyes. Exhales a deep sigh. "You've not been here, Hayun. You can't come back and decide that everything is awful just because it isn't the way you left it. Life's moved on. You should try it, sometime."

"That's not it," she says.

"So what is it?" Jimin questions. He doesn't really want to be having this conversation, but everyone's fucked. He thinks he'd rather know if she's up to no good. Might not remember it in the morning, but at least he'll know now.

"He's changed."

"He's happy," Jimin says bluntly. "That's what's changed."

"She's not his girlfriend," Hayun states.

Jimin knows about Jeongguk's desire to call things off with Jiyeong. Doesn't know about the fact he kind of already has. Also doesn't think it's his place to air Jeongguk's dirty laundry, so he says the safest thing he can.

"Nor is Jiyeong, if that's what you're getting at. Not sure if you remember, but Gguk has a hard time saying no to girls who treat him like shit," he says with a little venom. "His relationships are frankly none of your business. You revoked rights to that sort of information years ago."

"I'm just concerned," she says - and she sounds like she actually means it. Jimin doesn't buy it for a second, but lets her talk. "I used to know him better than anyone. It's like looking at a stranger, now."

"And who's fault is that?" Jimin snaps, but either Hayun is too drunk to really notice or too narcissistic to actually care.

Instead of actually responding, Hayun muses aloud. "All of it...the glitter, the puppy dog eyes... her attitude problem... It all just screams quarter-life crisis."

She's unaware that your glitter session ended a few minutes ago. Is unaware that you've dashed to the staff room to put your phone on charge. Is unaware that you'd sent Jeongguk on the hunt for more drinks.

Doesn't realise until Yeonjun flashes a grin, and says, "fuckin' hell. Shoulda put a bet on you morphing into Disco Ball."

Jeongguk smirks, resting his palms on the bar. He is, admittedly, DB2.0 at this point. There's glitter in his hair . "Starfuckers?"

"Trust me to make them?" Yeonjun checks - not that Jeongguk is stepping a foot behind the bar, not when he's as trashed as he is. The palms resting on the bar aren't just because he knows he looks good - it's because he needs to steady himself.

He nods. Taps Jimin on shoulder. "Starfucker?"

"Stupid question."

"I think the word you were looking for is 'yes'," Jeongguk grins, turning his attention back to Yeonjun. "Three, please, mate."

Hayun doesn't hide the smile on her face. Some things, apparently, don't change. She likes Jeongguk when you aren't around.

"Hey, buddy," she smiles in that way she always did when she'd been up to no good and wanted him on her side again.

Jeongguk is silent. Isn't smiling. Doesn't look at her. Just simply says: "Careful, Hayun."

"Hmm?" she questions, wondering what on earth she needs to watch out for. The bar's nearly empty, now.

"Watch your mouth when you're chatting shit," he says dryly, his voice just as flat as his eyes are vacant. "You never know who's listening."

Yeonjun can't help but smirk. Has been watching Jeongguk's entire life blow up right in front of his very eyes all night, and it just never ceases to surprise him. Has no idea who this bitch is in front of him, but the way Jeongguk looks like he wants to chew her up and spit her out? Oh, he is living for it.

He pours the shots. Decides the bar needs a good wipe-down. Stays close just to listen in.

Is surprised when he hears Jeongguk mention you by name. Had almost forgotten you actually have one. Is so used to calling you Disco Ball.

Admittedly, he thinks there's a tenderness to the way Jeongguk says your name. Thinks it's really fuckin' sweet.

He says your name, knocks back his shot, then says, "I dunno what you said to her earlier, but you were outta line. She's our friend." He passes the next shot over to Jimin. Finally looks down at Hayun. Is surprised when it doesn't hurt like he half thinks it should. He's never spoken to her like this before. "So play nicely, and keep her name out your mouth unless you're telling her how pretty her glitter looks."

Hayun thinks Jeongguk's gone absolutely clinically insane.

Yeonjun thinks this is brilliant .

From the corner of his eye, Jeongguk notices the staff room door open and close, so he picks up the spare shot that Hayun mistakenly thought was hers. As you approach, glittery and gorgeous like always, he holds it out for you to take.

"Oh, you star. Thank you," you beam, accepting it without a second thought. You ignore Hayun.

"Charging?" Jeongguk asks, just to make sure the dodgy wire in the staff room is working. You nod, and assure him it's fine. "Dancefloor?"

Again, you nod. "Please."

Yeonjun thinks he's gonna watch the security cameras back later just to see all of that unfold again. He's never seen a face look so much like a slapped arse, but Hayun? Offt . She's going through it.

"Y'know, maybe he has changed," Jimin smirks. "Ain't that a blessing."

Hayun is silent. Jeongguk has never spoken to her like that. Ever. Not even when they were fighting. The life she's returned to no longer has space for her, or so it feels like.

You're too drunk to care. Decide that you're better off pretending like she doesn't exist. You derive no joy from her existence, and think that this year you should only do things that make you happy.

When Jeongguk forces you to dance with him? You're happy.

When he yawns, and starts talking about kebabs? You're happy.

When he holds your hand and drunkenly traipses down the clubbing district to the kebab place he swears down laces their fries with crack? You're happy.

Happy when Jeongguk insists you walk instead of catching a cab, happy when he offers you a piggyback, happy when he doesn't put you down, not even in the elevator of his apartment complex.

Doesn't put you down until you're both sat on the floor between his kitchen area and sitting room. The lights are off, but early morning is breaking; the city intruding on your privacy.

Your hair is so long now, he thinks. How long has he known you? He can't remember. But it was short when you first met. Just above your shoulders. Now, it finishes midway down your chest. You're not the same person as you were back then, and nor is he.

It's a realisation; he's still learning about you. If somebody had asked him even a day ago how quickly your hair grows, he wouldn't have had an answer. Had never noticed. Knows your roots need doing, but he likes them so never comments on them.

Jeongguk knows you so well, and yet not at all.

He knows your favourite drink in a dive bar, but doesn't know what you'd get at bottomless brunch with the girls. Knows that you demolish Psy's It's Art in a noraebang, but has no idea what your favourite song is. Knows so much and yet knows nothing at all.

Knows your fears; doesn't know your hopes.

The realisation upsets him.

And so he asks. Lets you drunkenly natter on about your childhood dreams; plays the band you said soundtracked your childhood from his phone. It's set on the floor a little bit away from you. He chooses not to play it through a proper speaker. There's an intimacy to this. Thinks it's important you keep this shit analogue.

There's a dozen birds above Jeongguk's bed that outline the a-z of your intimacy textbook, but none of them include this.

None of them mentions talking about your childhood pet, and watching Jeongguk's pretty little smile appear on his scrunched-up face as he enthuses over puppy pictures.

Not a single bird includes candid admittance of times you threatened to run away from your family home as a teenager; nor do they include the way the Jeongguk asks about your escape plans, and tells you how you definitely could have done it.

There are no birds that tell you to bare your soul, and yet, you do.

Jeongguk is so kind with it. Accepts it graciously, and touches it with tender hands; places it down beside his own, and finds you fit perfectly in the empty space.

He finds himself nervous. Not in the lip-biting, ring-flipping, unsure eyes kind of way you're used to seeing him in, well, any uncomfortable situation; but in a different way entirely.

He worries that the night will end. Is concerned that you'll leave, and that things will be cemented in this awkwardly 'okay' stalemate.

He knows more about you than he did a few hours ago; has learned itsy bitsy tales of childhood and saw your face cringe as he scoured your mum's facebook page for pictures of your teenage haircut that you swore was cool at the time (not that his mother's kitchen scissor bowl cut was much better).

You've an idea of the layout of his family home, thanks to an overly explained prank that he says he pulled on his brother, which you also learn resulted in no eyebrows for either of them (another thing to thank his mother for ( "a punishment to match the crime" is how Jeongguk phrased it as he mindlessly stroked over his since-recovered brows)).

These aren't little things to know about one another. They're candid revelations packaged in awkward smiles and tied with liquor-laced ribbons.

Little presents, squirrelled away in each of your minds; reminders that the most intimate we can be with another person is when we're fully clothed.

Foolish of you not to consider that. C'est la vie.

That's what Jeongguk worries about. He worries that you'll leave, and the physical intimacy won't have matched the emotional intimacy and it will fuck with your head. Will have you ignoring him, or avoiding him.

You don't say anything, but as you watch him get to grips with a karaoke mic by the sofa, a song about makgeolli playing in the background, his giggles echoing into the speaker system, you don't ever want to avoid him again. Hated the time spent keeping a distance. Life is so much better when he's around.

He encourages you up, and forces you to dance with him like a pair of lunatics to an old Psy song. It's one of the ones Psy would always sing at his university campus shows, and when you mention this, Jeongguk cannot fathom the fact you've seen him live . Forces you to find it on youtube. Tries to find you in the crowd - but it's like a game of where's wally.

Eventually, he gives up. Says he's found you. Points to the mirror in the corner of the room - and when you look over and see the pair of you as you are, you decide that maybe bad decisions would be a good idea.

Glitter speckled, you're both messes. Still in your club clothes, there's something funny about the way your hair is in a lopsided bun on top of your head, his hair kind of all over the place. You'd be forgiven for thinking the pair of you had been at it - when in reality, all you'd been doing was singing your hearts out in a make-shift home noraebang.

You're busy laughing, toying with his little tufts of hair that stick out on end when his front door beeps, Jimin finally entering the code to return home. Dawn is breaking, and you're surprised that he's alone. He's busy chewing on a sotteok sotteok stick - mini sausages and rice cakes threaded onto a wooden skewer - to pay you much attention. The spicy sauce drips into the container he's holding, which you both recognise to be from the convenience store down the road.

"Here he is," Jeongguk teases, as Jimin casts his housemate a small grin.

He's pissed - still drunk as a skunk - and slurs his words as he goes to speak. "There's a disco ball in our living room."

"It's not a party worth having if you don't have a disco ball," you assure him, to which he lets you know that it's not a party if there are only two people.

"When there's two," he mumbles through a mouthful of tteok, waving the half-empty stick in the air. "That's not a party."

"So what is it?" Jeongguk asks.

The way Jimin smiles before he starts talking makes Jeongguk regret ever asking.

"A couple."

Jeongguk shoos him away. Tells him he needs a good night's sleep before he inevitably watches The Notebook tomorrow morning, like he always does whenever he wakes up alone with a hangover. A depressing way to start the year, you think.

"DB, you like Gosling?" Jimin says, in his pants and t-shirt now, sitting on the floor. He's holding a glass of water like it's a sippy cup. You cannot believe you've had sex with him. Twice. "Wanna watch?"

"Prefer Reynolds," you say of the famous Ryan's.

Jeongguk squeezes your knee. Smiles. Remembers the Deadpool marathons with you and Danbi. Likes how much you've both integrated into one another's lives.

This is just reality now.

And for the first time in a long time, Jeongguk realises just how lucky he really is. His life may not be grand, and it may not be written about in history books; but it's a fulfilled life. He's happy.

Jimin falls asleep on the living room floor. Is dragged into his room by Jeongguk. Won't remember any of it in the morning.

When Jeongguk finally retires to his room, you're poking around at the birds on his desk.

"I missed some?"

He nods. Sits on the edge of his bed, legs spread, leaning back to rest on his elbows. He's tired. Doesn't wanna sleep. Has missed you too much. "Fell a couple of weeks ago."

You pout. "I've missed the kids."

Jeongguk is soft as he says, "they missed you, too."

Looking at you now as you scan his room, party dress sparkling as the early morning sun intrudes on his room, he struggles to remember what life was like before he knew you.

And then he wonders if he'll ever forget what it felt like to fuck you.

He doesn't mean to think about you improperly - he's just in that god-awful state of post-drinking pleasure-seeking.

He's not even gonna deny it. He wants you.

There's a dilemma that comes with Jeongguk's desire: morals.

He's not sure how drunk Jiyeong was. Isn't sure how intentional she was with her threats. Doesn't know if she'll remember what she did, or if she'll even realise Jeongguk called it quits when she wakes up the next morning.

If he were to check his phone, he'd see that one of the personal trainers from the gym had tagged him in an insta story with the caption 'come get your girl, bro', and said girl necking on with some guy Jeongguk wouldn't be able to pick out from a crowd.

He doesn't check his phone, though. Regardless of everything, he was never her boyfriend. The way she treated him is exactly why he never asked. She burnt her bridges time and time again. Jeongguk doesn't care to rebuild them again, not when she never lends a hand.

It's not that he wants to be cruel. It's not that he never cared. Nothing like that at all.

But he is drunk, and he is single, and fuck it's so nice to be around someone that makes him feel as lovely as you do.

When he holds out his hands, you gravitate towards him. Stand between his legs. Look down at his pretty face, hands delicate beneath his jaw.

Jeon Jeongguk is gonna ruin your life, you think.

As his hands stoke up your bare thighs, and encourages you onto his lap without a single word?

Life, ruined. You're certain.

The way you do whatever he asks of you has you considering that maybe your life isn't even yours anymore. His. All his.

You know you shouldn't entertain this. The Jiyeong shit is too fresh. Hayun, too - but that only encourages you. You have what she wants. You'd like to keep it that way.

His grip on your waist is tight as he pulls you up his lap, the thick ridge of his bulge beneath you perfectly positioned to rut up against you.

There's hesitation to your movements; delicacy.

His are the opposite. Decisive. He knows what he wants - and as he uses his grip to push you further down onto his crotch, your soft whimpers let him know that you want it, too.

"Gguk," you whisper, heart beating so fast you're scared it might short circuit. He nudges his nose against yours. Nods. Could kiss you, if he wasn't behaving himself.

It's laughable, really, how he's humping himself up against you, and considers it 'good' because he isn't kissing you.

Your voice is barely audible when you say, "I hate my rules."

Jeongguk's jaw tenses. His eyes close, nostrils a little flared as he tries to control his breathing. Nudges his nose a little deeper against yours.

"Me too, B."

He despises them. Loathes them. Will never break them. No matter how hard is cock is and how difficult it is to think straight when he's suffocated by your hair. They're yours to break. Yours alone.

So while the admission makes him needy - gets him squeezing at your soft flesh, body grinding a little faster - he keeps his lips away. Kind of. There's a very small gap for you to close.

You could do it.

Could sink your lips down onto his, and experience what it's like to feel his moans vibrate into your mouth. Could let his tongue lick against yours. Could hold his jaw, lips hard and deliberate as they press against each other.

Could do a million little things. Your nipples are hard just from the thought of it all, and your thin lace bra hides nothing. Nor does your dress.

Jeongguk can feel them against his chest. Can't stop himself from tightly squeezing at them, his thumbs settling over your hardened bud. He rubs against them, knowing just how sensitive they are, even through your clothes, and is pleased when your breathing starts to get heavier.

A moan gets trapped in your throat, nails scratching against the nape of his neck. You're matching his movement, hips grinding against him.

You wonder how long it's been since he used someone else to relieve him. Find yourself worried it hasn't been long enough. Don't want him thinking about her while he's with you. It's not like you can control his mind, but then again, you're unaware of the catastrophic hold you have on him.

He takes a second to scan your eyes, and as much as you want to hold his gaze, you're distracted by his glitter. His cheeks, the rogue specks on his nose, his jaw... along the indent of his cupid's bow.

Jeongguk has enough experience with glitter-induced mindlessness, so knows that's what's happening - but he wants to check that you still want this. Still want him . It's been a while, and he knows the fact he'd been with someone else could hinder your desire for him.

Funny. He's not thinking about the fact you hooked up with Jimin at all. Couldn't give a shit about that.

All he can think about you, and your wants, your needs. Brushes a strand of hair away from your face, as he says, "if this is too weird, we can stop."

But you just shake your head, a soft smile on your pouty lips. He licks across his own.

"I've missed you," you admit all rather foolishly. Laugh, then cover your face with your hands. Jeongguk likes the rings you're wearing. Always the same three. Thin and dainty, they're as much a part of you as your glitter is.

His fingers wrap around your wrists, as he pulls them down. There's a little resistance from you, but eventually, you concede. Look at him a little helplessly, but are pleased to see him smiling.

"Missed you, too."

When you chirp a small hum in reply, Jeongguk laughs. Holds your waist again, stroking your sides ever so tenderly. Reassures you. "Of course I have. You know how much I like having you like this."

You narrow your eyes now, but it's playful. Feign a little offence, just to keep him smiling. "Have me like what exactly, Jeon?"

He rolls his eyes, but just pushes the hair that's covering your neck away from you. Leans a little closer, and presses a kiss into your skin. The contact of his lips, a little wet and torturously firm, has you sighing, hips pulling up. He encourages this. Grips onto your waist a little tighter. Pushes you down onto his crotch. Lets himself grind up against you once, twice, then husks against your neck, "Like this, B. Like you wanna get that pretty pussy of yours all messy for me."

He pulls back. Holds you tightly in place over his cock, of which he knows is embarrassingly hard. Sometimes he thinks all you have to do is glance in his direction to get him like this.

The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips parted ever so slightly - gets his hips pulsing again ever so gently. Your body moves with his, the sensation of his hardness beneath you making you feel a way that could only be compared to Nirvana.

You're the one who pulls him closer, now, a hand cradling his jaw, the other sinking into his hair. It's a control thing. Want him close, but can also pull him away. It excites him. Always does whenever you take the reins back from him.

As your grip tightens in his hair, his breathing shallows. Nose nudging against his, you know you're a little too close. Know you're being mean. Know how much he must be dying to close the gap, 'cause you are too.

"I do," you whisper back. "It's already messy."

"Hmm?" he moans an incoherent reply. Has his lips firmly pressed shut, cause he doesn't trust himself. Has closed his eyes, too. Can't risk it.

"Mhmm," you murmur back. "So messy, Koo."

The way you soften the sound of his name has him desperate to fuck himself into you. You're so soft, and tender, and everything he's been missing.

"For me?" He asks, because formulating words is the only way he can stay focused - but even that's failing him, now.

"All for you."

His cock throbs beneath you. He knows he must be messy, too, precum pooling from the tiny slit at the very tip of his cock. Hates that he's trapped in his clothes, but loves the idea of slowly getting you out of yours.

"All mine," he smiles to himself, lost in the way he feels. You nod. Giggle. Let your hair drape around his face as your forehead leans on his. He laughs, too.

You're both highly aware of the fact that this is wrong .

You shouldn't be acting like this. Shouldn't be feeling this.

But you are.

And you'll continue to do so until the night draws to its inevitable end.

"What should I do about it, then, huh?" Jeongguk asks, tilting his pretty face up a little bit. The glitter on his cheeks catches in the light of his bedside table. The room around you feels too big. You don't acknowledge it. Only him.

You're so quiet when you reply. Know that you're saying things you shouldn't be; tempting him like you're some kind of divine serpentine being. Jeongguk's got one trailing up his arm in thick black ink. He likes snakes. Likes you, more. Likes how delicate your voice is when you say, "clean it up."

One of his hands grips your ass. Squeezes. Hard. Makes you mewl.

"And how should I do that?" He asks softly, knowing that if he doesn't get some kind of release soon, the friction of your still-clothed pussy over the bulge in his trousers will end him. Write him off entirely. Might even make him die.

You could be demure in your answer. You could play coy. Stop this from escalating

Or you could continue grinding against him, breath laboured, heartbeat unstable. You could run your thumb along his bottom lip. Nudge your nose against his in that tender you always do.

And then you could simply say, "Eat me out."

"Yeah?" He would say. Would want you to repeat it.

"Yeah," you'd reply. "Eat me out. Please."

So that's exactly what you do.

Jeongguk's mouth waters at the mere suggestion of getting his tongue between your folds. Has thought about it so many times. Never thought he'd see the day that you ask for it.

The tiny 'please' you whisper? The way you beg for it? His cock aches. Needs relief from you.

You're finicky to a fault though. Smirk as you say, "Real shame the bird hasn't fallen, isn't it?"

There are a few birds on his desk, but none of them are that specific bird.

Of all the ones you wrote together, there's only been one that you've ever known the identity of as it watches over you.

There's a small mark on its wing. You'd been holding the pen between your teeth as you'd folded it, but been distracted by Jeongguk mumbling to himself. Had narrowly avoided leaving a blotch of ink on crisp white sheets.

Instead, you'd cursed a bird - and so for the past six months, you'd look up at birds and wonder when it would fall. It was the only one you felt apprehensive of, but that simply was down to fact you knew what it was.

"Maybe we can do an I.O.U. for the birds?" He offers. Is keen.

You know you shouldn't cherry-pick the birds. It goes against their free will. Playing God will only ever end in tears - but you're still tipsy, and all you can think about is how much you need this.

It's been so long since anyone has eaten you out that now the idea is floating, you won't be able to rest until it's happened.

His hands stroke up the back of your legs as you stand up on his bed. His head is level with the tops of your thighs, so he lets his lips brush against them. Presses wet kisses up them. Is slow. You take a little extra pulling the right bird down. Lean in such a way that he's dangerously close to your panties. He can smell your arousal. Wants to taste it.

You settle back into his lap, bodies close as you hand him the bird. He looks at you. Wonders if there's magic behind those starry eyes of yours. Thinks there must be.

When he opens it up, and is greeted with the exact same act you've asked him to perform, he knows there must be magic in you.

The truth of it all is that you'd just made a bad decision when you made it. Shouldn't have dropped the pen. But you did; and now you're here.

"Make me feel good," you implore as you toy with his hair.

He wants his lips on your body; wants to feel the pressure of his lips brushing against yours.

Just isn't brave enough to take things that far, yet.

He tucks a little bit of your own hair behind your ear. Studies your face.

"Look at me when you ask."

You're slow to do as he asks. Spend a little time toying with his necklaces, instead. You know his eyes are on yours. He could count your lashes if he wanted - but he doesn't. Mainly because he can't think straight, let alone count above the number ten.

"B," he encourages, index finger curling beneath your chin. He tilts your head upwards, your eyes trailing up his features until they settle on his eyes.

"Want you to make me feel good."

He nods. Is eager as he does so. It's so hard to not kiss you.

"I will. Gonna make you feel so good, Byeol. You want that? Want me to make your pussy feel good?"

You nod your head. Widen your eyes as you beg. "Please."

Jeongguk respositions you. Gets you sitting in his spot. Stands as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck and pulls it over his head. Chucks it at you. Makes you both laugh - but fuck. He's gorgeous .

He grips the bulge in the front of his trousers. Groans .

"See how hard you make me?" He asks. Waits for you to nod. Unbuttons his slacks and lowers the zip, so the top of his dark boxer briefs poke through. He palms at himself. Presses his lips together as a muffled grunt stifles in his throat.

The subtle movement of his muscles beneath his warm skin has you entranced. He's human, yes, but built like a God. Worshipping him feels like the only appropriate course of action - and yet as he guides you over and positions you how he likes it - face down, ass up - he's the one who's gonna be worshipping you.

Eyes closed, you smile into the scent of his sheets. Hadn't realised how much you missed how soft they always are; cotton fresh and a worthy home for the night. Of all the boys you've ever dated, not of them have cared in the same way that Jeongguk does about his laundry.

He's like that in all aspects of his life, though. Details. His senses. They align and overlap, and Jeongguk has to have things in a specific way, otherwise he isn't happy.

You confuse him, in that way. You're haphazard to a fault, and Jeongguk knows that glitter never really fit into his idea of what it takes to build a home, but he misses it being on his sheets.

He pushes your dress up, over your ass. Doesn't look at your satin-covered pussy 'cause he's trying to hold off. Grapples the flesh of your ass, then delivers a short, sharp spank. Likes the way you gasp, then sigh.

Doesn't like that he can't see the smile he knows is on your lips though.

It's all rather confusing. This is how he likes to do things.

And yet he finds himself getting you back into your original position. Walks over to his door. Checks it's locked.

Jeongguk turns around to look at you, eyes dark, his intentions perfectly clear.

He prowls a little closer. Taps on your knees and encourages you to open your legs. Not once does his gaze drop from your eyes. Not when your legs spread, not when he lowers himself, not when he can fucking smell your arousal. He wants to. Wants to look at your pretty little pussy so badly - but he'd locked in on your eyes.

His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your dress to your hips. Your underwear is black, and your wetness has seeped through - but he doesn't acknowledge it. Not yet.

He lowers his lips, but keeps his eyes on yours still, as he presses a wet kiss to your thigh. Up he odesseys; one, two, three kisses. A trail of evidence is left, little dewy marks mapping out his journey. He leans over. Repeats it on your other thigh.

One of his hands grips your waist, while the other strokes your thigh that's without his lips. He's taking his time. Keeping his eyes on you. Can see how your chest moves; knows that you're as desperate for this as he is. He licks his lips, and smirks.

"So patient," he husks, oh-so-affectionately. Squeezes the soft flesh of your thigh. Loves how you feel. So warm, and soft, and made for him. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"

You nod, a tiny whine catching on your lips.

"What was that?" He asks, before his eyes finally glance down towards your covered cunt. It's only supposed to be for a second, but he didn't anticipate quite how wet you'd already be; how it would be shining through the fabric of your panties. They're silky today, and it just makes your slick look even messier.

He inhales a deep breath, and lets out a shallow laugh as his head drops in defeat. Can't even play it cool. He wants you. Wants you more than he needs air to breathe.

It's just pheromones, and he knows this. Knows how gets when he likes a girl. Knows how fucking nasty he can get in pursuit of her scent. In the very worst cases, he finds himself enjoying feet . Underarms. Underwear. Anywhere that's gonna release them.

He always liked the smell of your perfume; the fragrances you'd layer over yourself to mask your natural scent - but it's 5am, and you've been in a club all evening. Your perfume has worn off. This is all you.

And he knows he's utterly screwed.

His lips trail up your thigh. Head tilts. It's his nose, now, that's making contact with your clothed cunt. He's slow. Tepid. Taking his time, 'cause he's thought about this during so many lonely nights and doesn't wanna waste it.

His nose rests against the fabric that's keeping you away from him. His perpetually dewy nose dampens as he nudges against you. He inhales. Is shaky, in the way that he breathes. "Fuck."

The pressure of his nose against you deepens. He groans. Mumbles some incoherent shit about how fucking good you smell. Presses his lips against the soaked satin. Kisses. Get his lips all glossy.

He kitten licks, then drags his tongue up your underwear. Knows he'll get so much more of your taste if he just takes them off, but he's scared. Worries that having your cunt in his mouth will ruin him for the rest of his life.

And so he continues taking his time. Uses his tongue. Teases where he thinks your clit could be. He's not too far off, but it's hidden by your folds that have swollen quite considerably. He's teasing too much. Getting you too needy. His thumb presses over the wettest part of your panties, where he knows your hole must be. The way the material gives just a little, and the way you sigh into his touch only proves this.

"Please," you whisper.

Jeongguk nods, not once losing contact with your cunt, until he slowly pulls back. Runs his fingers over your soaked panties. Studies the way they cling to you. Looks up at you as he gently massages you. Runs his index finger under the laces edge of your panties. "You want them off, B?"

The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips pouty - has him desperate for you. You could ask him to spend eternity with his face buried in your cunt, and he thinks he would.

He taps the side of your thigh - "hips" - and encourages you to raise yourself. His fingers hook over the sides of your underwear.

"Dress," he says, indicating his desire for you to take that off too, now that you can. Is too busy staring at your cunt, and the way your slick juices string to your underwear as he pulls them down to even realise you're taking it off. Bra, too.

Jeongguk is tentative as he gets your panties off. Hold your feet as he slips your ankle through them, and repeats. Doesn't get rid of them immediately.

He's so fucking hard he thinks he might die - and it only gets worse when he brings your sopping wet panties to his nose. It's lewd . The way he inhales your scent is erotic to the point of it being perverse - but it has you leaking for him. His dark eyes fall open, and land on yours.

The material hooks over his fingers, as Jeongguk reaches over to squeeze one of your tits. He's missed them. Will scream 'I'm an ass guy' until the cows come home, but knows it's your nipples he'll be sucking on when you inevitably milk him of his cum a little later. Your panties drag over the hardened bud of your nipple as he toys with you. Smears your juices all over it. Glistens as Jeongguk sits up a little to bring your panties to your mouth.

"Wanna see how good you taste?" He asks, as if you aren't parting your lips for him regardless. You nod, all pathetic and needy as your tongue rests flat for him to do as he pleases - which, at the moment, is pushing your slick-covered panties into your mouth. Thinks they'll probably help. Will muffle your whines, at least. Works a treat as you whimper a little when he taps your jaw. 'Close your mouth', he's saying silently - and so you do.

He pulls back a little, fingers dipping to slide between your folds, eyes on your face, still. Smirks. Uses the fingers that aren't exploring your slippery cunt to squeeze at your chest. Your eyes are so wide. You whimper. He deliberately didn't stuff your underwear completely in your mouth. Likes seeing the satin. Likes knowing how willing you are to do anything for him. His thumb swipes over the slick on your nipple. Massages it in - and decides it's a waste. Leans down to latch his lips around your hardened bud.

He's the one whining now. Loves the way you feel in his mouth. Loves licking the taste from your skin. The fingers toying with your folds search for your slit, and push themselves into you as Jeongguk sucks on your nipple.

Not a boob guy, not a boob guy, not a boob guy - and yet as he pulls himself back, releasing you with a slight pop from the suction of his lips leaving your nipple, he smiles. Watches the way your tit wobbles, all soft, nipples hard, desperate for his return. He pushes his fingers deeper inside of you. Tells you how much he's missed them.

He reaches up to hook your panties in his fingers again. Pulls them from your mouth. Tosses them down. The way you're whimpering deserved to be heard, he decides.

His lips press a chaste kiss to your other nipple. Tongue flicks. He sucks. Just for a second. He's got places to be; a cunt plugged with his fingers that he's dying to taste again. Trailing down your skin, his lips leave a pretty dewy trail.

You hadn't been expecting the night to end like this, so while you're nice and neat and trimmed, your pussy is a little less bare than normal. Jeongguk likes it. Would never impose his preferences, but knows that this is it. Always has been. Enjoys the way your slick catches in your hair; how messy you look for him. Your juices string across your folds, and decides he can't keep his tongue away any longer.

The first lick is slow. Flat. He whines against you. Stalls his fingers, 'cause he wants to focus on the sensation; how warm you are, how delicious he thinks you taste. His tongue flicks as he reaches the northernmost point of your folds, and the way your body shudders a little is indication enough that he knows exactly where to focus. Of course he does. Your clit has swollen just as much as your folds, desperate for a little relief.

He doesn't give you it. Not yet. The lewd sounds of his fingers pushing back into your cunt makes him smirk. You're so unbelievably wet. Wetter than he thinks he's ever had you - and you've never been exactly dry for him. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe you've missed him. Maybe it's both. When his tongue presses back into your folds, you know it's neither of those things.

You're soaked because he just knows what he's doing. Understands your body. Drags his tongue up and down your cunt, fingers fucking themselves into you. The sensation is unbearable. You need more - and more is what he gives you when his spare hand eases your lips apart, spreading your pussy so that he can get better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue massages against you ever so gently. He's careful not to be too aggressive - until he spits at it.

"Shit," you whine, letting your back sink into his sheets. You'd been watching, but now all you want to do is feel . You're scared that watching him - his pretty lashes splayed over the top of his cheeks, his dewy, wet, nose nudging your clit, the way his tongue laps against it- will finish you off too quickly. And that's before you even consider the mirror on the far wall, and the way his broad back looks perfectly positioned with your legs hooked over his shoulders.

He spreads his spit with his thumb. Smirks as your body shudders. "You okay, B?"

"Mhmm," you mumble, teeth biting the pad of your palm beneath your thumb. You're trying to keep quiet.

"Asked you a question," he says as his thumb builds speed, flicking over you gently. He's careful, but controlled. Your body writhes from his touch, legs pushing down on his shoulders, encouraging his face back to where he belongs. He almost whispers as his lips ghost your clit. "Tell me you're okay. Chess is always an option."

Why the fuck you'd wanna play chess is beyond you - and then you remember. Oh, he's so attentive. So kind. So gentle. So deserving of a blowjob.

"I'm okay," you promise, and Jeongguk finally lets his lips wrap around your clit. There's a provocative nature to the way he lets himself get all breathless and grunty. His tongue licks tenderly against your clit, but his fingers have been going for so long he's scared he'll cramp.

The way you whimper when he pulls them out is like music to his ears. Needy and pathetic. Gets his cock all hard.

You loved being plugged by him. Love the fullness he gives you. Hate to lose it.

His hands push back your thighs now. He studies you. Watches the clear fluid leak from you. Knows that your pussy must be desperate for his cock. Doesn't want to let any go to waste, so quickly licks it up. Sinks his tongue into the entrance of your hole. Can't go too far, but doesn't care to. Just wants to tease. To taste you. Drink nectar straight from the source.

One of your hands clasps over his fingers by your thigh. The other tenderly scratches at his scalp. You love his hair like this, all messy and indicative of the fact he's been up to no good. As he pulls away from you, lips glossy, a string of slick briefly keeping him attached to you, lip ring coated in the very essence of you, you decide you never want another face between your legs again. He's too pretty. You'll always compare.

He looks up at you with total adoration, a lopsided grin on his face as you scratch behind his ear. He's well aware he must look like a fucking puppy dog, but he doesn't care.

"You're so good," you tell him. Want him to know. Smirk, because you're aware of the dog parallels, too. "Such a good boy."

That shouldn't make Jeongguk's cock twitch as much as it does.

The hand in his hair encourages him back down, and he decides to show you just how good he really can be. His tongue roams between your folds, licking, and lapping. He's fast, and he's intentional, lips pouting as they press kisses against you, and even more so when they suck your sensitive bud between them.

Eyes closed, hands in his hair, legs wrapping around his head, you think of how pretty he is; how unspoilt his features are. You've never seen a nose so perfectly sloped or a cupid's bow so idyllic. It's the perfect ridge for your juices to gather, and Jeongguk knows this. Already isn't looking forward to his shower, 'cause he doesn't wanna lose the scent of you.

His pace increases. Fingers sink back into you. He's taking you for all you're worth; will win your orgasm fair and square. Needs it. Thinks he'll die without it.

The sounds of Jeongguk eating your pussy echo into his room; his fingers pushing you to the point of no return as his tongue massages you to a hedonistic state of being. The pressure in the very pit of your tummy builds. Your grip on his hair tights. You curse. Whimper.

"Right there. Fuck . Right there."

He doesn't ease. Gets faster. Edges and edges until he can edge no further. The wave crashes over; your release dizzying and detrimental all in one blow. It jolts through you, legs shaking, hot walls clenching, breathless mewls of pleasure letting Jeongguk know just how well he did. He doesn't stop. Pushes you further. Gets you gasping.

"Gguk," you whimper. "I- Fuck."

He nods against you. Doesn't stop. Lets his nose nestle into your folds. Holds his tongue back, just to say, "this cunt... fuck ."

You giggle, now. Jeongguk feels you tightening as you do so. Eases his fingers from you. Keeps you spread apart. Wants to see how messy you are - but is cut short when you say, "c'mere."

He doesn't even think about it. Just discards himself of his clothes and comes to join you on his bed. Will do anything you ask of him. There's a silly little smile on his pussy-drenched lips as his head nestles next to yours, face still covered in glitter. He's so heavenly like this; so angelic when he's unmistakably yours.

You aren't really thinking as you move closer. Your natural inclination is to kiss him, for a job well done. You realise just in time. Stop yourself. Grin as you nudge your nose against his, not caring for the fact he's covered in your cunt.

He grins, too. Laughs a little. "Was that okay?"

You nod. Wanna kiss him so badly. Speak, just stop yourself. Echo a thought you've shared before. "You really should start an only fans."

He laughs again. It's hearty and wholesome, and pure - or as pure as it can be, when he's covered in evidence of making your pussy cum. Neither of you really care for cleaning up just yet. His smile is too big. Dimples too deep. Lines beneath his eyes too telling of his happiness. God, he's missed you.

"I'd be no good on my own," he tells you. "Would need you to help me out."

You protest. Tell him to buy one of those fake pussy fuck-toys. Says it's all he needs. He corrects you. Tells you they're fleshlights, but doesn't tell you he's got one hidden in the back of his drawer from a particularly dry spell.

"No, not those," you say. "I mean like, the full torso ones. The ones with tits."

"Why would I want one of them?" He smirks, as his hands are quite literally squeezing at your boobs. He's just keeping them warm. That's all. "Ass guy."

You don't even dignify him with a verbalised response. Just tilt your head down to where Jeongguk is rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.

"What?" He feigns indifference.

"Your lies will catch up with you," you promise him. He pushes your tits up as far as he can, dipping down to suck delicately on your nipples. Just for a couple of seconds. Maybe five. Six. Okay, ten - but you feel so nice in his mouth, so soothing - and then it's twenty seconds. Thirty. Forty.

He switches nipples. Repeats. Pulls away. Is so hard he thinks he might cum prematurely if he doesn't get a release soon.

You've completely altered his sense of desire. Ruined him for anyone else. You'd argue you've made him better. Deep down, he'd know it to be true.

"Gguk?"

"Hmm?" he mumbles a little lazily against your skin.

You toy with his hair, raking your finger through his silky waves. Any product he had been wearing in it seems to be redundant now, your hands too busy messing with it for it to hold its shape. He had looked so pretty all night.

Looks prettiest, now.

"I'm sorry I stole your chance to have a New Year's kiss," you say, thinking of how many girls must have wanted him.

The smile on his face falters a little. He's quiet for a moment, then speaks with absolute sincerity. "Meant what I said. I've a whole year for kisses, B. They can wait. Wanted to be with you when New Year came in."

"I feel bad," you whisper.

"Don't." He opens his eyes, and sees how stark your self-imposed guilt is. Your hands are still toying with his hair, so he holds onto your wrists and rests the pad of his thumb in the palm of your hand. Is contented when your fingers close down on it. He shakes your hand a little, and smiles tenderly. "Don't. Really, B. Are you sad?" He asks. "That you didn't have one, I mean? Did you want one?"

Answers are complex when they're both yes and no; much like this one. You would have wanted one for the sake of enjoying a silly little tradition - but you didn't wanna kiss a stranger, and didn't want to kiss those close to you, either.

And so you deflect with a joke. "Why? Are you offering?"

Stupid joke. Stupid fuckin' joke .

Jeongguk knows it's a joke. Weighs up how he could respond. Sincerity seems too heavy. Joking back seems too careless.

And so he tries honesty.

"Yeah," he whispers. "I am."

His lips ghost yours, 'cause he'll never be the one to put pressure behind them first. He wants to. Is dying to.

Thinks, in classic Jeongguk style, that he'll die if can't do it one day soon.

The way you always get so close to him, suffocate him in your hair and the scent of your perfume, drives him mad. He's spent so many hours trying not to kiss you. Has never shared the taste of your tongue, but has shared oxygen with you. Thinks there's nothing to be scared of - but knows that you are.

He'll never ridicule your fears. Not intentionally.

And so he is patient, and perfectly restrained with you.

Some say it's a virtue.

Yet as you wish he'd just do it - rip the band aid - you can't help but think of it as a vice.

He'll never do you wrong. Sometimes you wish he would.

But that's the thing about wishes. There's no divine intervention from an arbitrary God. No stars changing alignment. The luck you manifest is yours and yours alone. Wishes come true because you will it to be that way.

Jeongguks grip on your waist tightens as your nose nudges deeper against his. There's a deliberate nature to your movements; how your hand rests on his jaw and how your leg hooks over his hip. The fluidity of your bodies together makes it so easy.

The grip on your waist is diverted to your ass. His fingers squeeze. Lips pout. Hips roll.

He husks your name. Not disco ball. Not Byeol. Your actual fucking name. Fucking whines against your lips. Can barely fuckin' breathe. "Please."

Your lips brush his. No pressure. Just aligning. Seeing how his lip ring feels. Jeongguk's semi begins to stiffen as he rubs himself against you again. His breathing is fucked.

Slowly - nervously, timidly - you slip your lips between his. Sink into the space left between them. Your bottom lip is plush between his. He doesn't press down. He waits. Waits and waits and waits. Has been waiting for months. What hurt will a few seconds do?

The hand you're resting on his jaw pulls him closer. Dictates his moves. This is all up to you.

The way your body nervously awaits the pressure you're refusing to apply is so telling. The delicate buds of your nipples that Jeongguk has grown to adore are hard against his bare chest. He's having to be careful as he rubs up against you, because your pussy is getting wetter and wetter. Coated in everything you are, Jeongguk's throbbing cock slides between your folds, massaging you in a way that you'll never grow tired of.

Jeongguk wants to speak; to encourage you.

Any words spoken would result in the closing of his lips and the removal of your ability to choose this - and so he stays quiet. Moans a little when the friction of his foreskin sliding back against your wet folds gets a little too good.

You smile. Like the way it feels. Can feel the slick build, then leak from the depths of your cunt. Know that you're one overly-eager rut away from him fucking himself into you.

Maybe you should pull away. Maybe you should let him fuck you instead.

But you've come so far.

You're safe. Warm. Content. With your favourite person in the whole entire world.

If you can't kiss him, then who the fuck can you kiss?

You still your hips. So does he. Deepen the position of your lips, until you know they can go no further. His nose is nestled next to yours, a shallow breath reminding you that life will go on - you'll still breathe - even if your lips close down on his.

He's always told you that he's not scared of you.

It's time to reciprocate that.

And so silently, as you press your lips down into his, you let go of a fear that's been holding you back for far too long.

It takes Jeongguk a moment to kiss you back. He wants to be sure you're sure.

But you are.

His lips slowly accept this new sensation; the softness of your bottom lip, the feeling of your nose as it nudges against his, the pining sensation that's so often left on his lips being remedied.

He's kissing you. Slowly, silently, serenely. It lasts for hours, but also for just a second. You're not sure which is more accurate as your lips naturally part for a moment; to breathe. To assess. To realign. To repeat.

He kisses you again. Once. Twice. Deeper, a third time. His hips begin to rut. His moans vibrate against you. The slipperiness of your pussy is juxtaposed to the innocence of such pure kisses. Lips still on his, you reach down to where your bodies are so well acquainted, it's like interrupting a conversation. Your nimble fingers wrap around Jeongguk's length. He moans. Wants to say something, but can't. Doesn't want to stop kissing you.

You move your hips. Line him up. Nod into the kiss. A hard breath exhales from his nose against your cheek, his whine echoing into your mouth as the tip of his cock penetrates your entrance. The fit is tight - snug - but so welcome. It's like coming home, he thinks.

"You're so fucking good," he whines into your lips, then presses down against them once more. "Such a good fuckin' girl for me."

He means it. You are good for him. Give him somewhere he belongs; somewhere he'll never feel alien. A girl full of galaxies, yet he's home no matter which cosmic entity you remind him of on any given day of the week.

You whine a little as his hips pulse up, pushing his dick into you. He's so big, and you're still so sensitive from how well he ate you out earlier, but you think you'd rather die than not see this through. You'll take the overstimulation, take whatever he'll give you, just to feel that fullness you only get from him.

Jeongguk grunts as he fucks himself into you. Gets breathless. Gets moany. Gets mean. Nasty.

"Gonna nut inside you," he tells you. You smirk against his lips. You love it when he gets all chatty and tells you all kinds of shit he never would if he wasn't on the brink of an orgasm. "God, I'm gonna fill your pussy up with my cum. Gonna fill you so well. Fill you forever."

That's not exactly how anatomy works and you go to tell him as such - but he changes position. Gets you on your back. Sits on his heels. Grips your waist with one hand, your chest with the other. Squeezes. Gets you whining. He pulses his hips slowly. Once. Fuck . Twice. Yes . And then he's back to a pace that feels more like him; fast and rough.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours is almost as loud as the breathless moans you can't be bothered to hide. He's making you feel so good as he pumps himself into you. It's only fair he knows just how well he's doing.

He squeezes at one of your boobs. Pinches your nipple. Pulls a little. Makes you moan. Does the same to the other side. Watches as they move from the momentum of his hips. Is fucking obsessed. Can't believe he wasted so many years convinced he was an ass guy. Loves your ass, granted, but fuck .

And when your hand sinks down to play with your clit while he's fucking his fat cock into your tight hole? God. Jeongguk thinks he might just die.

Tells you so.

"Gonna kill me off, you are."

You giggle. The way your pussy throbs around him? Yeah. Chances of death? Rapidly increasing.

"Feel good?" you check, just in case.

He nods. Wishes you could experience what it's like to fuck you; how good feel. How much he loves being trapped inside you. Makes his already desperate cock throb when he has those moments of clarity; he's fucking you. His cock? It's inside you. It's a simple thought process, but one that always overwhelms him.

Sinking down to suck on your nipples, tits in a white-knuckle death grip, Jeongguk knows if he thinks in any great depth, then that will be it. He'll cum. He wants this to last. Knows it can - but also knows your pussy is gonna make him cum so so soon.

So lost in his thoughts, he almost doesn't notice when you call his name. If it weren't for your hand cupping beneath his chin and pulling him down, he might not have realised at all. "Gguk?"

He follows your lead. Is about to sink his lips in yours when he replies, "Yeah, baby?"

He doesn't mean to call you that. Knows he absolutely should not have called you that. Kisses you again to distract from the fact he did. Ruts into you faster. Harder. Revels in the tightness of your walls, and the softness of your lips.

Knows he should check what you needed, but it was nothing, Just wanted him to look at you. But he'd called you baby. Oh, you're all sorts of fucked up. Try not to think about it. Your distraction method? A kiss . The waters are getting so muddy. This is so bad. Detrimental.

But fuck. He's close. So close. Doesn't wanna stop; any of it. Doesn't wanna stop fucking you. Doesn't wanna stop kissing you. God. He can't believe he can . Can't believe he knows what your moans sound like when they're vibrating into his mouth. Can barely wrap his head around the fact your tongue is in his mouth. He thinks he's going crazy. Thinks he might have already died. There's no way he can feel this at home inside another person's body.

But he does.

Knows that there's no pussy that's ever gotten him like this. Would be foolish to think you're the only person who will ever make him feel this way, but he quite enjoys playing the fool.

Jeongguk's skin is clammy. Sweat beads on his skin. Some of it catches on your skin as you move your hands from his back to cup his sharp jaw, and find yourself obsessed . Primitive desire, you think. Just like Jeongguk's obsession with your scent. All just survival of the fittest, built to breed, type shit. Of all the people he could fuck his sperm into, his body seems to think you'd be a good match. He trusts it. Agrees with it.

"Fucking me so well," you tell him. "Working so hard."

He nods, forehead resting in the crook of your neck. "Working so hard, B. Wanna make you feel good."

There are no words to articulate the way Jeongguk feels inside of you. No size grand enough, no adjective complimentary enough. No sensation even close to the euphoria that comes with being fucked by Jeon Jeongguk.

You press a tiny little kiss to his lips. "You do." And then you kiss him again. Deeper. Tug on his bottom lip with his teeth. Get him whining. His cock stalls. Left leg begins to shake. His right will follow, but it's always in that order. Left, then right. The way he whimpers into your mouth makes you wanna edge him for all of eternity - but he deserves this orgasm.

"Where should I- Fuck. Byeol, I'm there. I'm gonna- Fuck . Where do you want it?"

"Tits," you say without a second thought. You wanna watch him cum. Wanna see it. Wanna see how pretty his cock looks as his cum pulses out of it.

You hate how it feels when Jeongguk pulls out - how empty you are - but when he's shakily getting himself in position, jaw hanging slack, brows threaded together, lewd moans escaping his mouth as he wanks him over your tits, you know its worth it.

"That's it," you encourage. "All over my tits."

Jeongguk curses. Tightens the way he's straddling over you. Tugs at himself. Loses his fucking mind when your hand wraps around his. He lets go. It's all you; one hand around his shaft, the other softly playing with his balls. "Yeah. Yeah, Like that. Oh, fuck."

His legs shake; torso tenses. Has to grab onto his headboard just to keep himself from fucking keeling over. He's stimulated to a point he doesn't think he's reached before. Doesn't even feel like his body is his.

"Cumming," he mumbles. "I'm fucking cumming."

The way his cock twitches, balls tightening, is enough to confirm this. You keep going.

"All over my tits," you say again, just to really drive it home. "Good boy."

His whimpers are quiet as he unloads his cum onto you in thick, creamy spurts. You hold his cock against one of your tits, and let his spunk trail down them. A few more releases drip onto your skin. He sits up straighter. Looks at the mess. Wants to fuck you all over again.

He grips his still-hard cock and spanks it against your cum-covered tits. Massages his leaky head against them; rubs his cum into your skin. Lets go of his cock. Grips your tits instead. Pushes them both together, and watches as his cum smears all over them. Squeezes your nipples. Wants them in his mouth. Moves a little down the bed, and positions himself beside you. Encourages you to face him as his tongue licks against your cummy chest. He circles around your nipple. Takes it in his mouth. Sucks. One of his hands grips your other boob. Holds it close to his face so he can switch between your nipples, of which he does. Sucks for a moment or so. Teases with his tongue. Then switches. It's a back and forth that has you going insane.

And when his spare hand dips down to play with your folds? Sinks a finger back into your soaked cunt? Heaven. He fucks a second finger into you. A third. Keeps his lips suctioned around your nipples, utterly obsessed with the way it feels to have them in his mouth.

He's a little careless with his fingers, but it's exactly what you need to come undone again. You need it rough. Need him to override the overstimulation you're fighting. It doesn't take long. Your body writhes, but he keeps you close. Doesn't bother talking you through it. You both know it's his tongue against your sensitive nipples that's working the magic. Words would be wasted.

Your orgasm hits you hard. Fast. It waves over you so violently that you almost kick him. Jeongguk smirks as he begins to feel your orgasm contract around his fingers.

Your wetness seeps from you, Jeongguk still plugging your pussy. Your muscles are tight in a way he doesn't think he's experienced before. Your climax is violent. All consuming. You have to bite his pillow just to stop yourself from screaming.

It's never felt like this before. He doesn't relent. Is obsessed. It's so much wetter than usual. Your whimpers are different, too. The way your legs shake? The way you can't fucking breathe? How your pussy is quite literally clamping his fingers inside of you? It's all different. It's so much more than an orgasm.

He's never taken you this far beyond the point of a climax. Didn't know you could do this. Has only ever seen it in fucking porn. Sort of thought it was a myth - but you're squirting for him. Because of him. On him.

He will die, and you absolutely will be the cause of it.

"Fuck, B," Jeongguk curses against your lips as he realises what's happening. Keeps going. Fucks his fingers into you, still. His hand is getting wetter, still . You shake, still ; squirt, still . Jeongguk's gonna fuckin' die. That's all he can think about. Death, and pussy. His, and yours. Hell, and heaven. "That's it. Squirt for me, B. Such a good girl."

You nod, almost delirious from the pleasure he's administering. His fingers fuck into you still, your pussy contracting around him.

Eyes closed, teeth pressing down on your bottom lip, you can't think of anything except the sensation of your pussy giving itself up for him. The wave of pleasure was so intense that you hadn't noticed your release at first; not until the lewd sounds of his fingers inside of you became louder, and Jeongguk himself had realised.

You don't even really have grasp on the fact it happened. Knew that it could, but you've been the only person to ever get yourself that far. Never has someone else ever made you squirt. You don't think you ever really trusted anyone enough with your body to give it up entirely.

But Jeongguk is Jeongguk. There's nothing to be scared of.

"Koo," you whimper as you finally get some control over yourself, body jolting from the intensity of it all.

He's slow to withdraw his fingers. Doesn't want to, but also knows he has to be gentle.

"I know, baby," he husks a little breathlessly, as he presses a kiss into your shaky lips. "I know."

In all honesty, he doesn't know. Doesn't have a clue what you could possibly be thinking. Just knows he's feeling all sorts of fucked up, and that you probably are, too.

It's been a long night. You've both been through it.

But you both feel overwhelmingly at ease.

"Sorry," he whispers. Presses a kiss against your hair.

"Mhmm?" You question, still deliriously spent. There's so much to do. Sheets to change. Showers to be had. You just wanna laze with him a little while longer. "What for?"

Jeongguk holds you close. Doesn't wanna lose this, either. He knows how you get once the morning comes and regrets start creeping in. He's doing damage control early. Letting you know that it's okay.

"I broke your rules," he says, as if you weren't a willing participant.

You shake your head. You kissed him first. Kissed him when he called you baby. Rewarded him for his misdemeanours. Of course he'd be a repeat offender. You're just as much to blame.

"Don't do that."

"Apologise?"

"Don't put all the blame on you. It's not," you say, before leaning up to steal an ever-so-sacred kiss from his lips. "There. I did it. I broke them. My fault."

"B-"

"If you try and apologise I'm gonna think you regret it," you tell him.

Jeongguk shuts up. Plans to remain silent. Can't help himself, though. Thinks it's important you know how he feels about you, and the birds, and this whole fuckin' mess.

"I've never regretted a thing we've done, B. Never."

His tone consumes you. Is so serious. So sincere. It makes you nervous - so you deflect.

"What about that time we accidentally ordered the extra spicy tteokbokki?"

He smiles. Laughs. Is serene as he eases up. "Okay. One regret."

You kiss him. Lips soft. Touch tender. Just 'cause you can. Just 'cause you wanna.

Have resigned yourself to the fact this is one-night-only kind of thing; that come the next morning, you'll laugh about it.

'Can you believe we kissed?' 'Let's never do that again.' 'So weird.' 'Just a friendly kiss. Sort of like kissing a fish, actually.' 'I'm gonna sew your mouth shut one day.'

And so for now, as Jeongguk encourages you up - "c'mon. Shower. You get in. I'll sort the sheets. Will join you in a second, okay?" - and kisses you again before you leave, you revel in it.

You stand alone under the crashing water, wondering what the fuck you've just done. Contemplating how badly this will all end up biting you in the arse.

Jeongguk does much the same. Looks at himself in the mirror; naked and alone. Can see evidence of you all over his skin - scratch marks, pretty purple bouquets delivered by your lips, the sheen of your slick - and decides he likes himself better this way. Doesn't think he'll look like himself when it's all washed away.

He makes up his bed. Puts a fresh sheet down, and tosses the old one by his door, ready for a wash. Goes to chuck his pillows on the floor - and then just doesn't. If you want the space, he'll give you it, no questions asked. He doesn't want the space, though. Wants you in his bed again. Wants you close.

And as he comes to join you in the shower, a protective arm slinking around your waist, lips pressed into your neck, you know that you don't want to be alone. Not for the rest of the night, at least. The glitter might wash away, but this feeling? He's not certain.

You're not sure that waking up beside him will be sensible for your fragile heart, but can't stand the idea of not falling asleep beside him. He's so warm. It's the smart thing to do. Will save on his heating bill.

A good decision, you think.

But since when have you ever been good at those?

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

#jungkook smut

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baby-yongbok · 7 months

Text

Puppy's Punishment

HardDom!Seungmin x Sub!Fem!Reader

🩶Genre: Smut, Porn no plot. 1% plot 99% disgusting 🥵

🩶Summary: How do you train a dog to not piss on the floor? Stick their face in it.

🩶A/N: I'm trying to write some different kinds of smut and thought I'd share. The idea came to me last night soooo here its is! Enjoy!

🩶Word Count: 2,290

‼️Warnings: Puppy Play, D/S Dynamics, Hair Pulling, Slapping, Spit, Cursing, Degradation, Piss kink, Rough sex, Cum eating/Swallowing, Mentions of breeding (Sorry If I missed any)

‼️Names Used Towards Reader: Pup, Sweet girl, Bitch, Mutt

‼️Names Used Towards Seungmin: Sir, Min, Seung

✨Masterlist✨

collar banner by: @benkeibear

“There's no point in hiding. I'm going to find you.” Seungmin's voice echoed through the quiet house as his bare feet padded across the hardwood slowly.

You were in trouble to put it lightly but this is exactly what you wanted. You and Seungmin had a unique relationship. In public you're the sweet silly couple, always teasing each other lovingly and cracking jokes with others. But at home it was different. You're his submissive, his pet. He is your dominant, your owner and a strict one at that. He has zero tolerance for disobedience so you make sure to be a bit bratty and break the rules from time to time, just to spice things up a bit.

“You can't hide forever, mutt.” You hear his footsteps nearing your hiding spot. You know that it's an obvious spot, you know that you'll get caught and that's exactly what you want. “What do we have here?”

You yelp in shock as he swings the closet door open, swiftly grabbing you by your foot and pulling you out of your ‘safe’ space.

“Looks like I found a spoiled, disobedient bitch in heat.” You whimper at his sharp words as he stands over you. His glare is dark yet amused. He's having fun with this.

“I didn't do it, sir.” You blink up at him through thick lashes, pretending to be oblivious to the cause of this chase.

“Really? So there's another mutt walking around here and pissing on the floor? You want to go with that story?” You bat your lashes, shaking your head at him and he clicks his tongue in response as he bends down to your level.

“When did my sweet little pup become a brat?” He reaches out to you, stroking your cheek gently with the pads of his fingers. He watches you with sparkling eyes as you melt into his touch. Savoring every second of attention.

“Ah, she wanted my attention, huh? My puppy missed me?” You nod your head softly yet fast enough to convey your urgency. “Bad girls don't get this kind of attention.”

His gentle touch shifts into a stinging pain as he slaps you firmly across your cheek causing a surprised whimper to escape you. Before you can look back at him his hand is in your hair. His nails scratch at your scalp as he grabs a fist full and pulls you forward onto all fours.

“Bad puppies get punished, you know that don't you?” He walks you by your hair, keeping his grip tight as he leads you down the hallway and over to the mess you made. You crawl as fast as you can to keep the stinging on your scalp to a minimum. You can feel your thighs getting slick and sticky with arousal as the moments pass.

“I trained you better than this, didn't I?” He stops you in front of the puddle you made on the living room floor. Pulling your head back by your hair to make sure that you look exactly where he wants.

“Yes, sir.” This was the game that you loved to play. Be a disobedient brat one second and then an angel the next. You knew that he loved it that way, he loved your fake innocence and the way that you'd submit to him once things were going according to plan for you.

“Do I need to drill the rules into you? Write them on my cock and fuck it into you?” You moan nearly instinctively and your dripping cunt clenched around nothing at his words.

“Yeah? My girl wants me to fuck the rules into her?” Seungmin's free hand pulled the hem of his sweatpants down just enough to free his hard cock. Your mouth watered at the sight. He let go of his grip on your hair, pushing your head forward a bit before he circled around to your rear and kneels. He slides your shorts and panties down your legs, leaving them in a pool around your knees. His fingers glide through your folds, prodding and teasing your entrance with the tip of his finger.

“What kind of sick girl gets off on being in trouble? You like it when I'm mad at you, huh?” Your eyes roll back into your head at his teasing tone. He smacks your ass hard and you lunge forward a bit, nearly falling into the mess in front of you.

“I asked you a question, didn't I?”

“Yes, sir. I love it when you're mad at me.” He slides two of his fingers into you as you answer him. Your mouth falls open in a quiet gasp as he stretches you, curling up towards your sensitive spot and stroking the soft wall.

“This pussy is so swollen for me.” With his free hand he spreads your cheeks and licks a wet stripe over your asshole. A deep moan erupts from your throat as he rims your hole.

“Fuck.” He pushes his fingers deeper into your cunt, there's no possible way that he isn't nearly grazing your cervix.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He scissors his fingers inside of you and you bite your lip to muffle your moan.

“I'm sorry, sir.” He slides his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty and longing for him.

“Show me a trick.” He leans back onto his knees with a teasing smirk on his lips.

“I- I don't know -” Before you can finish your sentence his fingers are laced through your locks again. Pulling at the strands lightly before he pushes you forward, your cheek presses against the floor and you moan at the feeling of the cool liquid on your face.

“How about you beg?” He runs the tip of his dick up and down your cunt. Collecting your slick and teasing you simultaneously. “Beg me to fuck your face into your piss.”

“S-sir.” You squeeze your eyes shut as his tip runs over your clit at a teasingly slow pace. “Please fuck me. Fuck me into the mess I made. Punish me for being a bad puppy. Please, sir. I deserve it.”

His cock breaches your dripping hole slowly, sliding in at a torturous pace. “Ah, my sweet pup is in heat for sure. Cunt so wet.”

He takes his time bottoming out, his low grunts of pleasure sends shocks right down to your cunt as you take every inch of him. “You know better.” He pulls back quickly and slams his hips into you. You lunge forward, bracing yourself with one of your hands in the puddle beneath you.

“You know better than to fucking piss on the floor, don't you girl?” His tone is mockingly sweet as he starts to pound into you.

“Y-yes Sir, I'm sor-ry.” He finds a steady rhythm, fucking you at a rough moderate pace. His hand stayed laced in your hair, holding you down into the puddle.

“You see that? You see what you did? Are you going to do it again?” He picks up his pace a bit as he tries to literally drill his rules into you. You whimper at the change. Holding your breath for a second before you answer.

“No s-sir.” He angles his hips upward, hitting the perfect spot as you stutter your reply.

“Stay.” He hisses as he removes his hand from your hair and moves to grip your hips. He speeds up more, fucking into you at an ungodly pace. Gaspy screams escape you as you brace yourself against the floor. Your hair and forearms are wet with your mess as he pounds you.

“You could've gotten fucked like a good girl.” He spreads your cheeks enough to run his thumb over your asshole. “You could've asked for my attention.”

He spits down onto the puckered hole, spreading the wetness with his thumb before pressing into the greedy hole slowly. Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp at the sensation.

“But you just had to be a disobedient bitch, huh? You had to make me punish you.” A moan follows his statement as you clench around him. He tilts his head back in bliss, taking in the warmth of your walls for a second. Your moans fill the air mixed with the sound of skin slapping as your orgasm creeps up your spine.

“Sir, I'm gonna-” You’re cut off by a deep groan from your partner. He leans over you. Pressing his front to your back and reaching around to rub your clit.

“The fuck you are, hold it, mutt.” He grunts in your ear as your cunt swallows him, contracting around him repeatedly as you fight to contain your climax. “Be a good girl for once.”

He hisses at you through clenched teeth as he grinds into you, kissing your cervix lightly with the perfect curve of his cock.

“Min- seung - sir, I can't, I'm gonna.” He spits down at you and you wince at his saliva hitting your cheek, you feel it as it runs down at mixes with the piss below you.

“If you fucking cum I will ruin you.” His threat comes out as a growl that sends shivers down your spine and pleasure to your pussy. You struggle to hold back as he abuses your clit, flicking the sensitive numb at a harsh pace.

“You're going to take my cum, aren't you, pup? You're going to let me breed you. M'gonna fuck my puppies deep into this cunt.” You cry out as you feel yourself start to tip over the edge. Seungmin feels your walls flutter around him and pinches your clit between his fingers.

“Do it, I dare you, go ahead.” You know better than to listen to him. He's teasing you. Your mind knows that but your body doesn't care. A wave of burning hot euphoria washes over you as you fall apart on his dick. Your body shakes as the intensity builds with each of his rough strokes. He continues to abuse your clit to his content, ignoring your desperate cries for relief.

“Sir, it's s-so much, so much.” You can tell that he's on the edge of his pleasure by how his breathing changes and how sloppy and sharp his thrusts are getting. His nails bite into your hip as he uses you. Ignoring your cries like you're no more than a toy for him to use.

“Take.It.” He punctuates his words with a harsh thrust and you can feel your high building again at the intensity.

“Fuck, baby, take it all. I'm gonna stuff this tiny cunt full of my cum, pup. Fuck, take it, take it all.” The fucked out growl in his tone nearly sends you over the edge for a second time. You feel his cock twitch in your pussy as his thumb pushes deeper into your ass, filling you up to his knuckle.

You moan as his hot cum spills into you, painting your walls white as it tries to escape your tight hole. Seungmin slows his thrusts as he comes down from his high, still maintaining a slow and deep rhythm.

“You like making messes?” He lets go of your hair as he sits up, pulling out of your cunt slowly. He watches as your pussy clenches and his cum seeps out of you, dripping onto the floor and creating another puddle beneath you.

“Sit up.” With a shaky breath you lift your head. The cool sensation of your piss dripping off of your hair and down your face and neck makes you shiver as you turn to face him. He looks down at the puddle of cum between the two of you. His eyes are dark and clouded as they meet yours. “Clean it up.”

You stare back at him with hazy fucked out eyes. There isn't a single thought in your head. The only thing that you know to do, want to do, is obey him. You place your palms on the floor, getting back on all fours and leaning down to lick your mixed arousal from the hardwood. The bitter taste of his cum mixed with yours floods your tongue and you moan as you take it in. Seungmin clicks his tongue as he watches you, a devious smirk on his face.

“You're a disgusting little bitch you know that?” You blink up at him with your tongue out, his semen dripping off of the tip. “Swallow”

You do as you're told immediately, taking the mixture down your throat and sticking out your tongue to prove that it's gone. He leans forward, grabbing your chin gently and dipping down to attach your lips. He kisses you gently yet hungrily. You allow his tongue to part your lips and taste the arousal lingering on your palate. You whimper against his lips, chasing him a bit as he pulls away.

“My sweet girl, you did so well.” He strokes your hair, ignoring the wetness and grins down at you. “Color?”

“Green.” He nods at you with a smile as his thumb strokes your cheek softly.

“That's my pup, listen, I want you to go get in the shower and wait for me, okay?” You furrow your brows slightly as you agree. “I forgive you for making a mess.”

He kisses your forehead but his grip on your chin tightens a bit as he forces your gaze on his.

“But you came without permission and I told you what would happen.” You gulp at the sting that his sweet tone carries. He smirks at you as your eyes search his, quietly begging for mercy but you can tell that you won't get it. Just like you want to mess with him he takes pleasure in punishing you.

“I'm gonna fucking ruin you.”

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e-hibiscus · 5 months

Text

Pairing: Yukong x Afab!reader

Warnings: NSFW, Yukong has a cock, foxian!reader, breeding, overstimulation

Author’s Note: I want her to breed me :(

Minors DNI! | NSFW! under the cut

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Usually, you can handle yourself during your heats, but now you have Yukong. You have a lover, an alpha to tend to your needs during your heat. You don’t know if that makes things better or worse because you know that she’ll avoid breeding you silly the moment she realizes it’s that time again.

Every year, when mating season comes around you’d try and seek Yukong out so things don’t get out of hand. This time, however, Yukong can’t pull away from her work, leaving you with a promise that she’ll return home as soon as possible to help you through your heat.

It hits you now on how long you two have been together. Yukong has been there for every one of your heats prior, so the absence of your mate now makes things all the more difficult. Your only form of comfort is humping a pillow between your legs as you bury your face into Yukong’s spare clothes and pillows in the hope to alleviate some of the ache between your legs, and this goes on for hours until the sheets are stained with your cum, sweat, and tears.

When Yukong returns home, her first instinct is to head into your shared quarters. Opening the door she was hit with the strong smell of your pheromones mixed with the scent of your arousal from your desperate attempts to quell the heat in your core. The wanton cry that escapes your lips has her walking forward, undressing as she goes so by the time she’s in the bed with you, the two of you can get started.

“I’m here now.” Yukong’s voice barely registers in your brain, it is only when she slowly pries your legs apart that you realize Yukong is finally home. The way you whine when she pulls the pillow away had Yukong growing hard. The smell and sight of you in such a disheveled mess had her cock aching to be in your folds.

You can’t help the way your breath hitches in anticipation of what’s to come. Your tail thumps on the bed as Yukong slots herself between your legs. With how slick you are from the times you came on that pillow was enough for her to consider going in without working you up.

Her hands trail down your stomach before settling around your hips. The pads of her fingers leave a hot tingling sensation on your skin making you shift around. The unbearable heat you feel has you desperately bucking your hips towards Yukong’s throbbing cock which rests against the outer folds of your pussy.

“Y-yukong” You pant, desperation oozing out as you call her name. You writhe around in hopes that you could get some semblance of friction— hips bucking as a silent plea for Yukong to just go in.

“I got you…” she mutters, taking her time kissing your jawline before moving down your neck, all while one hand lines up her cock at the entrance. “I’ll make sure to fill you up. Gonna give you plenty of pups, okay?”

Your pathetic whimper was enough for Yukong to know you were ready, so she starts pushing in carefully. It was torture getting to this point, so the moment she parted your folds with the tip, she shoved her entire length inside, burying her cock until you could feel the tip against your cervix.

All you could do was gasp for air while Yukong started drilling her cock repeatedly against your gummy walls. The heat you feel with each thrust forward had you careening towards your first orgasm. It came quicker than Yukong anticipated because you came only with a few pumps into your aching pussy, but she wasn’t going to stop. Not now, not when you needed her to mold your pussy into the shape of her cock.

Your back arches off the bed as she begins to speed up her thrusts, gripping you tightly to stabilize her movements. The sound of skin resonates on the walls as the rhythmic thrusts continue as you ride out your first orgasm.

“Oh, Aeons… you’re so sensitive.” She continues pounding into you as she speaks. “All for me, all for me. M’sorry for making you wait so long.” Her lips are finding the sweet spot on your neck which Yukong marks with little bites and hickies while her hips continue their pace.

You can’t form any words— any rational thought is getting scrambled with each thrust. Every one of her actions has you digging your nails into Yukong’s back causing her to moan out in pleasure. Between your incoherent whines and moans, she could make out two things repeatedly formed in broken syllables. ‘Harder’ and ‘more’.

She’s lifting you into every thirst. Yukong’s cock reaches deeper and deeper. Her thrusts don’t slow down, sending you over the edge with a cry, toes curling and back arching up against her body as Yukong fucks you through your orgasm. She doesn’t stop when your orgasm washes over you.

Stealing a kiss from your lips, Yukong’s mouth hungrily presses against yours. She knows you want more, even when the walls of your pussy spasm around her girth. She forces you to swallow her choked groan as she cums inside, fucking it into the deepest parts of your womb.

She doesn’t stop after the first orgasm or your second, it is after the third did she pulls out to flip you over onto your stomach. She leaned down, pressing a kiss against your lips before sitting back.

She looks down lovingly at your fucked out form laying there in the dampened sheets. Your hands gripped the sheets when Yukong raised your hips, propping you up onto your knees so she could get ready to fuck you from behind.

Her hand moved to wipe her cum before shoving it back inside your overstuffed pussy with her fingers. “You’re doing so good for me, I’m almost done, okay? Just one more.” Yukong guides her still-hard cock back to the entrance of your velvety walls. Even though you’re shaking like a leaf, she still wants more. “I have to make sure you’ll be having my pups.”

She gently pushes back in, burying her face into your back as she gradually speeds up. Yukong’s weight sends your upper body crashing down onto the bed. Her mouth is busied with marking your skin before she finds your neck. With care, she sinks her sharp teeth into your shoulder while she keeps pounding into you— hips shuddering as cry out in exhaustion.

Yukong keeps you pinned beneath her weight as your entire body shakes as you cum on her cock with a scream of her name. Her hips continued to gently pump in her seed, angling it so her cock could reach the deepest part of your pussy. Once you’ve milk her dry, she remains hilted inside, plugging your hole to ensure none of her cum will go to waste.

Her hand gently caresses the bulge of your stomach while she litters your skin with more gentle kisses in hopes of soothing any pain you’re feeling after being bred for so long. For now, she’ll let you rest. Once the morning sun will filters into your shared quarters, the two of you can continue until your pussy becomes full and her cum spills out once more.

#🌺.hibiscus writes #🔄.repost

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ickym0mmyy · 1 year

Text

shoving my little pup into their cage with a puppy pad and some water, and leaving them in front of the tv with cartoons. they don’t realize it but soon enough they’re begging me to let them out to potty when i say “what do you think the puppy pad is for, silly thing?”

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mrsoharaa · 6 months

Text

Ꮺ ❥ 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓

characters: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

content warnings: slight blood/wounds, fluff

You had an excruciating, long tiring day of work. Your entire body felt like it was on the verge of violently collapsing from how many hours you were picking up at the hospital, due to the lack of staff and the consistent tirelessness engagement with the patients.

You exhale a protracted exasperated sigh, mangling your keys into the door slot of your apartment. Fumbling a bit with the keyhole, you grumbled out a frustrated grunt- already too exhausted to deal with any small inconveniences that just added to your weighted stress hauling you down.

You roll your heavy eyelids, listening to the harmonious click of your door finally opening. A more relaxed and satisfied breath slips pass your lips.

Prying your door open, you stepped into your dim lit apartment, locked the door behind you and tossed your keys onto the entry table near your door. Hearing nothing but complete, utter silence that scoured through your home.

You cocked a brow in confusion, normally your Welsh Corgi- Cheddar, would be enthusiastically welcoming you home with consistent happy barks and jumping all over your legs with eccentric tail wags the moment the doorknob twists and turns from you arrival from work.

"Cheddar? I'm home!" you call out, hearing nothing but pure, unsettled silence.

A strange, long awkward silence that almost engraved chills down the stride of your stilled body.

You tilt your head a bit, flickering on the hallway light as you made your way through your soundless loft. Searching through each room carefully for your adorable pup.

He couldn't have escaped from the house, you made sure you locked your door. And he surely couldn't climb out a window. His legs were too short and stubby.

So...where was he?

"Cheddar? come here baby! mama's home!" you exclaimed once more, emerging from your quieted bedroom, pacing your way into your lit living room. You skimmed around but still nothing.

"Huh, where the hell is that dog-- woof! woof!" your head immediately spritz around to the sound of your yelping dog, twirling on your feet you gaze down at your barking, fluffy companion "There you are silly! don't do that again! nearly gave mama a heart attack!" you exhaled a burdensome sigh of relieve, watching your small pup continue barking upward, his tail wagging wildly, fangs hardly protracting from his continuous barks.

Your brows knit together confusingly, wondering what it was, he was barking at.

Too focus on your noisy pet, you felt a drop of liquid plop onto your right shoulder. Glimpsing onto your limb, you notice a deep crimson colored dot stain into your teal scrubs.

"What the-- woof! woof!" your dog continues, his tail still wagging side to side in such a ravenous pace. You shush him, feeling another droplet of crimson liquid permeate onto your clothed shoulder. Plucking your finger onto the soften fabric of your work scrub, you leer closer to the familiar, strong scent of iron on the pad of your finger.

"Blood...?" you blinked slowly, gradually lifting your head upward to see a bulked, hovering man wearing a strange red and blue suit clinging onto the ceiling of your apartment.

Nearly jumping backwards onto your heels, you covered your gaping mouth quickly and watched the looming, crouching man stuck on your ceiling waver a finger over his mask.

"Shh, not a word, señora" his voice was deep, smooth-- velvet like, still a bit muffled behind that thin fabric, but still gentle and hoarse. It was almost comforting and reeling.

How did he get up there? How was he clinging to the ceiling the way that he was?

Your body immediately stiffens, watching the man grunt heavily, painfully almost as he tries to crawl his way off from your ceiling. But the moment he inches his way closer towards your open window, he looses his grip amongst the ceiling and clashes brutally down onto your wooden floor. Heaves out another, pitched painful grunt this time. Your widen irises skim directly to where his large hands were strictly pinned, onto his right side.

Notices a tremendous amount of pooling blood seep through the side of his suited body.

"Oh no..." you mumble under your breath, quickly kicking off your feet towards the injured, mysterious costumed man.

Kneeling down before him, you waved out your small hands to aid him, but felt his right hand abruptly clasp onto your wrist. Ceasing you from reaching out towards him, his masked face turning in your direction "I'm fine-" he gruffs with another discomforted groan, his left hand holding onto dear life onto his bleeding out torso "Please, I'm a nurse I can help" you murmur softly, gazing over his strangely suited, yet tremendously built figure.

He blankly stares at you for a long moment, sighing heavily as he carefully lays his wounded, weighted body down onto your harden floor.

୨ ♡ ୧

After a half an hour of patching up the mysterious man's side, you softly glance up from his strange outfit to the fitted mask that shielded his cryptic face. Truly, you were inquisitively curious as to what he looked like beneath that unusual mask, but you avoided to pry. No matter how much it gnawed at your curiosity.

"There, all patched up- at least, momentarily" you weave out a soft breath, finishing up stitching up the long, deepen gash that carved from his stocked torso "Though, I do highly advise that you seek proper medical treatment" you advised, putting away your little emergency stash of stitches and other medical supplies back into your little box you kept beneath your bathroom sink. You watch the man groan lowly, rolling his broaden shoulders as he hisses out a muffled, sustaining grunt. Feels a throbbing ache nag at his freshly inflicted wound "This will do, thank you" He stands up to his feet, takes a step forward only to be pushed back slightly by your giddy, curious dog jumping at the soaring man.

You could see the indent of a crooked brow within his mask glancing down at your dog with such confusion.

Strange.

Cheddar was never really too found of male guests.

So, what was it about this particular man that he liked?

"Odd, Cheddar doesn't really care much for men...but with you..." you tilt your head in curiosity, glimpsing from your surprisingly happy eccentric pup to the towering, strange man still wearing an odd costume.

"Cheddar? you named your dog after a type of cheese?" he tilts his head, watching the playful dog dart off to retrieve a toy, only to plant back down in front of the hovering man with said toy in it's mouth "It's cute! he's cute! it suits him!" you exclaimed, listening to the tall mans sleek voice chuckle in the most subtle, gentle way. Radiates a swarm of butterflies to flutter in the pits of your simulated belly.

"Right, well thank you for your care but I need to get going一" he slightly leans forward to subtly pet the top of Cheddar's head and paces over to your closed window, halts immediately when he see's a violent rush of pivoting rain pour down from the darken, shrouded skies.

Sighs in disbelief and annoyance, slugging his lengthy shoulders from the inconvenience.

"Seems like you can't go anywhere for the time being..." you called out softly, cleaning up the remaining mess of your medical supplies and the stained hand towels that drenched of his oozing blood.

"Stay, I can make you something to eat or...something" you smile, watching his slouching, hefty frame slightly turn back towards your direction "...So you're just willing to offer a random stranger, wearing strange clothing, bleeding out on your floor, and invading your home with a hot meal?" he remarks blandly, questionably, you giggle, shrugging "Why not? I'm a nurse, caring is part of the job...and for what it's worth一 I can cook a mean Lasagna" you brim your gleaming smile towards the conflicted, mysterious man.

He knew he shouldn't.

He shouldn't implore of staying. He was a busy man.

Always on the go.

But there was just something about you, your kind, gentle spirit that radiated such purity and endearment that wooed the stoic, man's soul. Plus...it didn't seem like the horrendous storm outside was stopping any time sooner.

"...I don't want to implore" he mumbles deeply, studying your skipping figure prance into your open kitchen, already preparing for your shared dinner "You're not imploring! plus, you do need to embellish in some nutrients!" you sing happily, playing some background music as your dance your way through your pantry to gather all the ingredients and supplies you needed for your dish.

He couldn't help but lift a wry, small smile beneath his mask.

୨ ♡ ୧

He gazes down at you behind his mask, watches the thin, loose strands of your hair gently fall along your peaceful, slumbering face. Hesitates at first, but carefully brushes the loose strands back upon your head that nestled ever so comfortably amongst his sturdy lap. Studies your beautiful features that leered his attention. The subtlety of your graceful radiance pulling him in.

He shouldn't feel like this.

He hardly knew you.

You were a complete stranger.

And yet...

Such a kind and compassionate soul you were. Caring and tending to his inflicted, open wounds. Cooking him a hot homemade meal and holding light, carefree conversations. Showing him such welcoming hospitality.

And you, don't even know him.

You don't even recognize him from being the infamous Spider-Man that goes around saving people and stopping bad ones from deteriorating the city and causing harm.

Which...he oddly liked about you the most.

Only a few hours of dressing his wounds, initiating small talk and having dinner with you made him feel...things.

Things he knew he shouldn't or...didn't, want to be feeling.

But he couldn't help it.

You were just so intriguing. So open and trusting.

So一 Captivating.

He tucks another loose small strand of hair behind your ear this time, watching the supple plush of your lips pucker with each silent breath you would exhale. Finds himself so gradually infatuated with them.

How full and pretty they looked. How soft and silky- awfully tempting.

He fights back the ascending urge to lean forward and press his lips against yours. To feel the velvety softness of your tender, plump lips against his. To taste the sweetness that lingered on those full, pinkish mounts of flesh permeate onto his prickling skin.

He closes his eyes and exhales heavily, gently holding you in his strong, sculpted arms and carry's you into your bedroom. Gently uses his sleek hips to creak open the door, glancing down at you to make sure you were still sound asleep.

Watches you hurdle closely into his firm chest comfortably, mumbling something softly under your silent breath with a caressing smile.

Nearly trips over his own feet from his distraction of gazing upon you, notices Cheddar prancing up next to him, now jumping onto your queen sized bed.

He grumbles under his breath, a remark of almost tripping himself over something so-- silly.

Silly...yes.

He looks down at you once again, gently nestling you into your bed and waving your soften comforter over your stilled body. Stares down at you for a long moment, watching the pure peace and tranquility dawn all over your delicate, serene face.

He stills himself.

Sighs once again, but more heavily.

"¿Qué haces, idiota?..." he reels back his mask fully from his face, his luminous, cardinal irises gently hovers over you. Giving you a last look over.

Leans in and placidly kisses the corner of your silky lips with his.

Hums deeply from how soft and warm they really were against his.

Wishes he could stay like this for a bit longer.

But he couldn't.

He had priorities to take care of.

He brushes over your head with his right hand softly one last time, gleaming eyes carefully studying your stunning, restful face.

"Thank you for everything, Hermosa..." he murmurs lightly, resurfacing his mask back upon his face, as he stands back onto his feet and waltz towards your bedroom window. Opens it and leaps onto the window seal, crooning his head over his right shoulder to steal one last glimpse at you.

Smiles beneath his mask, jumps off from your window seal, closes your window and swings off into the lightly sprinkling night.

Keeping the vivid image of your beautiful face embedded deeply into the back of his mind.

Hoping, to run into you again soon.

#I FORGOT HOW MUCH I LOVED THIS ONE #OMFG #miggyyy! 🥺💕#miguel o'hara x reader #atsv

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astr0exe · 4 months

Text

K9 [COD MEN (POLY??) X M!READER] : CH3

Ch.1 , Ch.2 , Ch.3

CAS’ MASTERLIST !!

reader is transmasc and autistic cause i said so :3

AO3 VERSION : K9

(again super scared to post my writing)

(hope you guys enjoy!!)

(again projecting cause reader is so me)

SUMMARY : Reader and Bucky go to the gym, ignoring the flush they feel when their co-workers pay attention to them

CW : SWEARING

Chapter 3 :

First person POV:

I opened my eyes, momentarily confused by my surroundings, then remembered last night, heat rushed to my face as pain blossomed in my head. I look over at my bedside table and notice a cold bottle of water, what looks like paracetamol or aspirin and a note. I picked it up and noticed the almost chicken scratch handwriting.

Hey K9, you fell asleep on the couch and we know how uncomfortable it can be so Ghost carried you into your room. There is paracetamol for you and I think Gaz is cooking breakfast later (well for you it will be now) so get your arse to the kitchen before you don’t eat.

~ Soap

I quickly took the paracetamol, got out of bed and threw a band tee on (silly lil SOAD shirt /lh:AN). Smiling as Bucky sat by my feet. I haven’t trained since I got here so I decided to just do that. Placing Bucky’s harness on, I walked through the compound. When I got to the large training area I noticed how barren it was and breathed a sigh of relief, not enjoying working out in front of people.

The room was huge, rows of work out equipment ranging from weights to treadmills and in the centre a boxing ring. There was also a gun range and knife throwing area through a door on the far back wall. I walked around a little and decided to go over to the punching bags as Bucky entertained himself by napping further away. I wrapped my hands up, made sure to put my headphones on turning my loud workout music on and shuffling it. My eyes closed for a second as Melanie Martinez’s Class Fight came on (AN: I am currently listening to this song and I forgot how good it was), I got into my stance and started going through my combinations.

I keep punching till my lungs ache and sweat is formed on my forehead. Not even hearing when someone came in and started watching me curiously. As I grab my water bottle I notice Ghost staring at me. I accidentally make eye contact with his dark eyes before quickly looking down sheepishly, feeling uncomfortable. I walk over to Ghost, my water bottle still in my hand. I look up at him not speaking for a few seconds, “Uhm hey.. Lt, hows it going?” I look down at his sweatpants before averting my eyes again. He nods slowly, “Good good, hows your head K9? It hurting?” He laughs, mocking me slightly. Before I can answer Soap bounds in, having too much energy for such an early start.

“Hey Lt., Pup! Hows your headache?” He walks over to us smiling wearing a tight grey t-shirt and some basketball shorts. I gaze over at him smiling politely, slowly realising he called me pup. I blush slightly before replying “Uh, its okay aha.. Happy it isn’t too bad, guess I got lucky or.. something.” I answer awkwardly, before hearing Bucky pad over towards me sensing my slight change in stress level. “I’m really hungry, been working out for.. Shit for a while-“ I look and turn to the clock on the wall noticing its been a few hours, “I might just go grab some food, see you guys later?” I ask, feeling the pit of hunger in my stomach grow. Before I can leave the gym, the Captain walks in explaining that we are needing in a briefing room, oh for fucks sake.

#cod x male reader #x transmasc reader #x trans male reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #x male reader #cas speaks

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self-indulgent-paw-patrol · 3 months

Text

I may or may not have waited for the perfect time to play this one

And no I'm not going to sleep

#Not sleeping for personal reasons #Don't worry I'm fine I'll just compensate in the morning #Paw Patrol #Marshall #Zuma #Paw Patrol Marshall #Paw Patrol Zuma #Incorrect Quotes #Paw Patrol Incorrect Quotes #Paw Patrol Roleplay #Paw Patrol RP #Silly Pup-Pads

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ohbo-ohno · 5 months

Note

Sorry that leash belt ask just reminded me of this frantic thought I wrote down the other day about Ghoap pet play. It’s very rambly I’m so sorry.

Ghost has to take Soap out for runs to keep him in shape, cause he’s a responsible owner. So he gets all ready, normal running clothes, joggers, compression shirt, soft balaclava cause it’s still Ghost. Soap gets his muzzle(can’t have him getting over excited and accidentally biting someone), his collar, the smallest, sluttiest running shorts known to man, and his trainers. When getting him ready, Ghost likes to talk to Johnny. “Gotta get your shorts on, its bad practice to not cover up a bitch in season, distracting to the other dogs” “sit still, gotta get your booties on, don’t want the asphalt burnin your pads, huh pup?”. And the kicker, omg, Ghost gets one of those running belts that you hook the leash to so he doesn’t have to hold it.

ghost treating soap as his literal dog my beloved

liiisten LISTEN im like so actually obsessed with this thing you've sent to my inbox. you apologized twice for it an it's easily one of my favorite asks i've ever received. you absolute silly goose

the great thing about this, is you can (almost) make it... not really obvious kink.

johnny's muzzle for walks? a plain mask that looks like any other face mask, but maybe it covers up the gag between his teeth or it's a tight mask that wraps under his jaw and keeps his mouth closed. it's especially not out of place since ghost himself is wearing a mask

the fact that ghost's showing hardly any skin and soap is as close to naked as possible? easy, johnny's just one of those guys who wants people watching when he works out

the only things that really give it away are the collar and the leash. the thing wraps loose around ghost's torso but clips right on the front of johnny's day collar, it's not exactly subtle. but other than that? they really just look like two opposites running in the morning

(ghost locking the mask over johnny's face, rolling his eyes when he whines because "you know you can't be trusted around other dogs, pup. you want your walk or not?"

gets johnny to understand heel as just a click of the tongue, controls the pace of their runs with just one little sound

doesn't bother to tell johnny when he's stopping for a break, just stops and laughs when his pup nearly chokes himself - makes johnny even better at keeping his attention solely on ghost's smallest movements, even the indication of movement

always makes johnny piss at least once before they head home. usually their route takes them through a small park, so he's got some privacy, but sometimes ghost takes him to marginally more public spaces, but to watch his pup pout and whine. always makes sure he goes though, grunts "don't want to deal with you yippin' at the door while i'm tryin' to work. get on with it.")

#asks and answers #ghoap #bo writes

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sgt-seabass · 2 years

Text

𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

✧˚ · . 𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘕𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘍𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘨𝘢 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘮𝘪𝘵.

main pairing — mob boss!alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader other featured characters — james mace, chris beck, steve kemp, charles blackwood, ransom drysdale, chase collins, lee bodecker, robert pronge, ari levinson, hal carter, lloyd hansen w/c — 14.8k this is a dark explicit fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU.

warnings — non-con (blowjobs, handjobs, unprotected sex), dub-con (unprotected sex, female orgasm), a/b/o dynamics, Nick Fowler being a cunt, misogyny/treating omegas as lesser, references to death, suicidal ideations, references to anxiety and depression, caging, manhandling/mild violence against reader, chase, mild injury to reader, pet names (pup, puppy, sweets, sunshine, little omega, ducky), degradation, use of stress positions, minor medical references (needles administered), gangbang, bukkake, neglect of reader (touch starving), mention of wanting to throw up (no actual vomit), mental torture and stress to the point of breakdown a/n — big big thank you to @sweeterthanthis and @dreamlessinparis for beta-ing this beast and dealing with my inability to stay in one tense lol. all mistakes and bullshit are mine. also big thank you to @navybrat817 for helping with the brainstorming. without you, this fic wouldn't have come to life

Depressed again Morning comes too fast and I'm tired of the routine Depressed again Let me sit alone in the tone that you crave Angry again No, I don't wanna have a conversation with you Angry again Let me sit alone with the kerosene I don't even care about you ↳ I don't even care about you by Missio

"Hey, doll.”

Your eyes fluttered open, the sunshine warm on your face as you gazed up at the man above you, a soft smile on his features as his hair hung down and eclipsed his face.

Was this heaven?

"James?" You questioned, disbelief flowing through you at the sight of him. He looked far different to the last time you saw him. No injuries marred him. He looked just as you had always known him.

"Who else would it be, silly? You fell asleep while I was getting the rest of the stuff from the car," James chuckled as you sat up, your fingers running across the picnic mat below you. The feeling of the fabric was familiar, and it caused a smile to dance across your lips. You'd always loved the picnics you'd had with your alpha. It was playful and fun, the two of you snacking before cuddling beneath the sun's warmth.

And in the best moments, you'd get frisky under a padded blanket. It was in those moments you'd found true happiness. You'd found love. But the problem in finding love was that it was so easy to lose in a matter of moments. The truest sorrow of death was that love was proven more than anything.

James sat the picnic basket beside you before quickly tugging you into his lap.

You blinked, taking in the view of the park surrounding you. Only the two of you and the flowers blooming across the landscape, nothing more than a subtle breeze in the air.

Your eyes scanned over the flowers, looking at the different coloured petals. It was as if ink had infused them with their hues, providing life to something that would be otherwise dull.

Oh, it felt good.

Warmth surrounded you, Jame's bulky frame providing you comfort as he nuzzled into your neck to scent you, his hand resting against your stomach.

He let out a low hum, the sound reverberating across your skin like your favourite song.

You let out a sigh as you relaxed against him, eyes fluttering closed as you just let yourself be in the moment.

"You're not gonna fall asleep again, are you?" James chided, poking at your side with his right arm, eliciting giggles from you.

You opened your eyes to face him. His deep azures gazed at you as you ran your hands through his hair, bringing your palms forward to cup his cheeks.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

It's too good to be true. This happiness, it was too perfect. Life had never allowed you much reprieve.

"Does it matter?" James pulled your leg around, so you were sitting in his lap, your face close before you allowed yourself to let go.

Your lips brushed over each other's, testing the waters before your hands brought his face to yours.

The kiss started slow, two souls connecting between planes. But the crushing weight of reality quickly turned you more passionate.

It felt so real. You didn't want this to end.

Time seemed to flow indiscriminately as you kissed James, your tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks after a few minutes with your alpha.

He pulled away with a coo. "Hey, hey, doll. You're alright,”

"He’s going to take me away from you. I don’t…I don’t want to wake up Jamie. I want to stay here with you,” You sniffled, and James brought up the arm of his sweatshirt to dry your tears.

“That’s not the way life works, sweetheart. You have to go back,”

You couldn’t. Not after the auction, not after seeing the beast that was your mate.

You huffed, resting your hands on his waist with a shake of your head. “That’s not fair,”

“I know. I know, love. But life isn’t meant to be fair. It’s a struggle against the odds, but that doesn’t mean you can’t change the course of your life,” James reassured, but it felt like a lie.

“I don’t see a way out of this, James. I’m mated to Nick. He can control me without even trying.”

James tilted his head, continuing to wipe away your tears. “Can he, though?”

“What?” Your brows furrowed, fingers clinging to James like he was your lifeline.

“You’re the strongest gal I’ve ever met,” He tapped your temple with a sad smile. “You just have to fight him.”

“I... but how?”

“Think of us, what we had, what we were destined to have. Even without me in the picture, you’ve lost everything. And that is exactly why you can fight back. He can’t control someone who has nothing to live for,” James’ words felt like a tonne of bricks in your stomach, a heavy pit forming. Because despite him being right, you did have nothing to live for. You’d lost everything, and you’d hit rock bottom. The concept of standing up against a prime alpha was almost too scary to comprehend.

It would be easier to just cease the fight. End the pain.

“Why don’t I just kill myself then?” You asked with beady eyes, and James let out a sad hum, contemplating his next words.

“Because then Nick Fowler wins. He would have destroyed both of us. You’ve got so much courage, doll. And the most courageous thing you can do is live,” James said softly, his words delivered gently despite their weight. “Plus, you have to find Steve. We’re all he had,”

Your gaze dropped to your hands, fiddling with the hem of James’ sweatshirt as you frowned. “And what if I lose? What if he breaks me?”

“Then you live happily the best you can. If you’re broken, you won’t know any better anymore,” James gently took your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes would meet his.

His lips found yours again, the kiss melancholic as you knew this had to end. Nothing good ever lasted long for you.

Would this be the last time you’d see him?

Roses with thorned stalks rose from the ground, the petals a beautiful crimson, the flowers just like Nick’s tattoos. You could hear the ticking of a clock, the sound signalling that time was running out. With each tick, you held tighter onto James, the stems getting closer and closer with each passing second.

You pulled back with a hiccuped sob despite how much you just wanted to keep his lips on yours. When had you started crying again?

“James… I’m not ready to go back, please.”

James didn’t have anything to say this time. All he could offer was a woeful smile as the vines began to wind around your limbs, cutting into you and slicing around your flesh.

There wasn’t anything he could do to make this better.

After all, he wasn’t even real. The James you loved was dead.

Death was brutal and cruel, unforgiving in how it wrenches people from your existence. But he was safe, at least. James didn’t have to face any more horrors while you were consumed by the primitive evil that was Nick Fowler.

The thorns cut into your skin, tearing across your torso and limbs as they wrapped around you like a snake ready to kill.

You began to be pulled away from James, and despite your hold on him, the roses were stronger.

“I love you,” you wept as your body began to be dragged into the dirt below, the ground moving around you like quicksand.

“I love you too. We’ll see each other again one day, doll. It’ll be okay.”

You wanted to believe James, but as the earth began to swallow you up, you knew it was unlikely.

The chance of beating Nick Fowler is minuscule, but you’d still try. You’d try for James. For what you should have had, the life you lost.

Dirt began to fill your lungs as your head was pulled under, your blood mixing in with the brown soil, making a muddy mess.

The last thing you remember was hearing a wolf howl and the clock’s ticking stopped.

Consciousness came to you with fright, heart hammering in your chest and tears in your eyes. You whacked your head against the cage wall in your abrupt wake, pain radiating through your forehead from the impact. The thick, black steel bars clanged like they were laughing at your pain.

A whimpered ouch left you as you lay back down. Your dress from the auction still filled most of the cage, the tulle scratching against your skin uncomfortably. The emerald made you look luxurious, but you doubted being shoved in a cage was doing you many favours in looking the part Nick wanted you to play. Or maybe that’s precisely the image he wanted. A shattered omega.

The diamond choker Nick had gifted you laid next to you. It must have broken off during the night when you tossed and turned, as it was already damaged when you went to sleep.

You threw it out of the cage with a huff, watching it skid off the rug and across the hardwood.

A bird in a gilded cage was still denied its freedom, no matter how embellished its captor made it.

The choker was a show of ownership, and the last thing you wanted was to be reminded of your mate. The rejection of your alpha had your bond throbbing, the scarred flesh on your neck hurting with each ebb of anger that flowed through you. You hoped Nick could feel it and that it was irritating for him.

You would rather Nick treated you like his auctioned omegas so there was no veil. At the end of the day, you were just another object for him.

Light bled through the curtains like a fresh wound, gnarly and grotesque, much like the maim to your soul. It illuminated the room, the light making you aware of the stark greys of the bedroom. Perhaps it was supposed to be chic, the way the walls and furniture matched a muted colour palette. But all it did was reflect the desolateness of the situation; the world reduced to nothing more than shades.

The plushness of the pink and blue blankets below you provided little comfort, but you ignored the soreness in your muscles as you stared at the ceiling, the dark grey paint obscured by the bars of your cage.

Time passed, the sun beginning to rise higher in the sky. It had to be at least mid-morning, and your stomach rumbled. You hadn’t eaten since before the auction yesterday, although the thought of eating anything made you feel sick. Everything about your situation made you nauseous.

You hoped that James would burst through the door with Steve by his side and that they would take you out of this hell hole and back to your everyday life. But when the door opened, you were met with the sight of Beck and Mace. You barely spared them a glance before returning to eyeing the ceiling like it was the most exciting thing in the world.

“Stop sulking. You brought this upon yourself,” Mace sighed, moving to unlock your cage. When you didn’t move to get out or acknowledge their presence, Mace clutched your ankle and began to drag you out.

“Get off me,” you snarled, trying to cling to the bars as the dress tulle scratched your skin, but Beck was one step ahead. He pried your fingers off the bars while Mace pulled, and you had no chance as you were dragged from the enclosure. While the cage kept you inside, it also kept others out, and now you had to face your nightmares.

“Don’t you want a shower and a piss? Why are you making this such a fucking chore?” Mace growled as you began flailing. You could feel Nick through your bond, his emotions egging you to calm down. But you didn’t want to calm down. You wanted to go home. To your real home, not this prison.

Beck picked up the discarded choker, lips pursed as he looked at it, examining if it could be fixed while Mace wrangled you to your feet despite your protests. “Fuck off, get the fuck off me!”

Mace’s lips ghosted by the shell of your ear as he pulled your hands behind you, leading you towards the bathroom, his voice scarily low. “Twenty minutes. Clean yourself up and get it together. If you come out a nice fucking omega, I won’t tell Nick about this. Although I’m sure he can already feel it all.”

With little grace, Mace pushed you into the bathroom, your feet stumbling over the tile until you steadied yourself on the marble sink counter. The door closed behind you, the locks clicking. You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of doing as they said, but you really needed to relieve yourself and freshen up. Especially if you were going to have any chance of fighting them.

As you suspected, each drawer in the bathroom was locked with a fingerprint pad, the light flashing red and beeping at you when you tried to open it. Nick really had thought of everything. On the shower shelf sat everything you needed anyway. Begrudgingly, you moved through the motions. You didn’t allow your thoughts to wander. There was too much pain threatening to bleed in past the edges of your mind.

As you struggled to take the dress off and get the shower running, all you thought about was James. The way he’d hold you and love you. To Nick, it might appear you’re calming down with how your emotions turn to yearning as the water washed over you. But the desire wasn’t for your mated alpha. It’s for the alpha you lost.

It wasn't until you got out of the shower that your determination became set. Nick Fowler would not win. Think of James, you told yourself. Just like he said in your dream. Perhaps it wasn’t a dream but a premonition. A communication with the dead.

As you began to work yourself up, your fists clenched by your sides, the adrenaline started to spike. They hadn’t left you any clothes, but that didn’t matter. You’d be faster without anything slowing you down anyway. You tore some of the fabric from the dress to pull your hair back so it wouldn’t get in the way.

“Times up,” Beck called, and you knew this was it. This was your chance. You got ready to bolt when he cracked the door open. And once he’d opened it enough for you to fit through, you pounced. The rush hit you all at once, and you quickly sprinted past Beck’s form and under the arm on the door.

“What the—” The alpha said, stunned as you dashed past him. Mace, distracted as he searched the closet for clothes, whipped his head around just in time to see you rush out the bedroom door.

“Omega! Stop!” Mace tried to command you. But he’s not your alpha; now that you’ve got a mate, his orders don’t work on you.

Without looking back, you ran into the hall, following the trail that Beck took you on when he walked you down the night before. There are rushed steps behind you, but it doesn’t deter you as your feet slapped against the floor in your sprint. You can feel Nick homing into your bond, his ire clear. And you know he’s close. He’s in the house. Stop. Enough. The bond tells you, but a flash of James’ face in your mind’s eye helps to eclipse the order.

You managed to reach the front door, throwing it open with a slam before running onto the gravelled front path. The rocks of the driveway tore into your feet, the cold air hitting your naked form like a tidal wave. There was a slight patter of rain beginning, the type you’d love to be curled in bed under the plush covers to listen to, but instead, you were running for your life.

“Omega. Stop right now,” Nick’s booming voice hit your ears, and your legs faltered for a second. No. No.

“’Til the end of the line, sweetheart,” James. This is the man who took James from you. He’s no alpha of yours.

You managed to get your legs moving, picking up into a sprint as your heart hammered like a panicked mouse in your chest.

“Stop running right now,” Nick yelled again, but you didn’t even register the command, James’ voice cooing to you in your head.

You could feel the trickle of blood as the bond opened into a fresh wound the more you rejected the commands of your alpha. You were denying your very physiology, and it wasn't without consequences. Everything hurt, and the throbbing in your neck felt like needles were being sharply stabbed where Nick’s teeth had dug in when he claimed you.

The way Nick felt didn't help. There was anger, disappointment, and hurt. Not that he’d admit to the last one. His omega was rejecting him. A prime alpha rejected by their omega was a pitiful sight and one that Nick would never want anyone else to see. For a man so powerful, in this moment, he was entirely weak to you.

That was until you heard the shot ring off and felt a sharp sting in your left ass cheek. You stumbled to the ground, palms and knees grazing over the gravelled surface as the rain hit your back. A yowl left you as you turned to look behind you, a tranquiliser dart sticking out of your skin, a little blue feathered frill on the end.

“You fucking tranqued me?” You screamed, looking back at Nick, who was slowly approaching with the rifle in his hand.

“You’re lucky I didn’t use my loaded gun, omega. I don’t even care about you. I should kill you,” The frustration was apparent, an edge of confusion in his tone, unsure as to why his commands weren’t working. If anything, they should be stronger now that you’re bonded. But why did he care anyway? What made you so special?

“Yeah, but you won’t, because you do fucking care, asshole. Otherwise I would have died with my lover,” You spat, fire in your eyes as he edged closer. Your entire lower half was becoming unusable, but you still tried to drag yourself over the ground despite how it cut into you.

”I can see why that useless waste of space you called an alpha never mated you. Did you act like a fucking brat with him too?” The words shouldn’t hurt. You shouldn’t care what Nick says. But they were like knives piercing your skin regardless, worse than the gravel below.

“He deserved my respect. You deserve nothing. You are nothing.”

The outrage was clear as day on Nick’s face as he crouched before you, and your arms began to get tingly as the weakness spread. You knew he was going to snap back hard, and he did.

”Maybe your alpha would be alive if you behaved yourself and paid more attention to him.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock, a pained cry leaving you as the tears began. Yeah, that hurt. It planted a seed of doubt in your mind. Was it your fault? No. You weren’t going to take the blame for a male alpha with an inflated ego. For too long, omegas took the blame simply because their voice wasn’t as loud. But not now. You wouldn’t take it.

”Aww, pup. You lost all your bite, hm? I’m disappointed. I thought you’d fight better than this.”

If the jabs about James didn’t hurt enough, the thought of disappointing your alpha added to the anguish. And it made you mad. Really, really mad.

“Why bite when I can scratch, alpha?” You snapped before using your waning strength to slash at Nick. He laughed, easily dodging you, only one swipe brushing his cheek. Your nails left a red mark, and it spurred you on more.

”You can hit harder than that, little pup. C’mon, you’re letting me down. You wanna act like a wolf? Then hurt me, but you’ll have to put in some effort, cub. You’re just making this too easy.”

Nick’s words hit hard. You let out a roar and lunged. It took all your strength to propel your body, throwing yourself against the alpha. He seemed surprised for a millisecond, and it was all you needed to swipe your nails across Nick’s face. He hissed as your talons dug through flesh, leaving trickles of blood tracking down his face. Lucky for him, his eyelids were closed when you attacked, so his eyes remained undamaged while his cheek and lip bore some nasty cuts.

It’s all you hadleft in you before the sedative rendered you useless. But it was worth it to see Nick’s face as he processed it all. For once, he wasn't in control. How the mighty have fallen.

Nick took your head into his hands, cupping his palms on either side. You were forced to look into his eyes when his bond was at its strongest. Desperation was in his wild eyes, the facade of a prime alpha with it all cracking. “Bark for me, puppy.”

Your mind screamed at you to bark. To give in.

It would be easy to play the part the world wanted you to. But to do that would be denying your own human experience. You opened your mouth, turning to the side and biting down hard on Nick’s hand.

He slapped you, one hand holding your head steady, so the impact hurt even more. It makes your brain rattle, the world shaking for a moment. Your eyes fluttered, and suddenly you weren't on the mansion path anymore. Nick had picked you up and thrown you over his shoulder. Your limbs laid dormant, unable to move due to the dart still poking out of your ass. Given the omegas he had housed in his back barn, it should have been expected he’d have non-lethal ways to capture them.

You expected Nick to take you to the bedroom and cage you, but your brows furrowed as you were brought to the living room. He was silent now, and that was almost scarier than his anger. He was plotting something that surely wouldn’t be good for you.

Beck and Mace watched from the doorway as Nick dropped you like a sack of potatoes onto the ground against the far wall. He looked down at you, jaw clenched and let out a huff. He gave your stomach a kick, earning a winded groan from you as you couldn't even curl in on yourself, your muscles relaxed against your will.

“She’s rejecting my commands,” Nick said matter-of-factly, his gaze turning to his men. “I intend to fix that.”

“How?” Mace asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, eyes flicking from you to his boss.

“I’m going to talk to Kemp. He’ll know. And if he doesn’t, Hal will have an idea.”

“Hal is a softie,” Mace interjected with a dry chuckle.

“Yeah, but have you seen how Ari’s omegas listen to him? They dote on him,” Beck commented, running a hand through his short hair, his forehead creased from stress.

“I don’t want the soft route. Get her bound. I have some calls to make.”

Nick didn't look back at you as he exited the room, but you could feel the pain in your bond. The desolation. The anger. The myriad of emotions swirling in the both of you.

Asshole.

Mace and Beck did as commanded, moving around you to take the pictures down from the wall, replacing them with metal loops. Mace left for a few minutes while Beck finished up, and he took a moment to inspect your stomach, pressing around your ribs to ensure there’s nothing out of place. By now, the dogs had joined as well. Apollo, Icarus and Hermes sat a few feet away, just watching what was happening.

“She’s fine,” Beck murmured to the dogs, three sets of ears perking up at his words. “Yeah yeah, I know. But she brought this upon herself.”

Mace returned with rope, working with Beck to bind your arms and connect the cord through the newly installed loops. Your arms were brought above your head, suspending you uncomfortably so that your toes barely touched the floor. It put a lot of pressure on your shoulders, especially with your body's dead weight beneath you.

As their last step, Beck pulled the tranquiliser dart from you, and you tried to bite him when he was close enough. He gave you a look of disappointment before leaving with Mace, the dogs following once Mace whistled for them.

You were left in the living room, nothing more than the ticking of the old grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room to keep you company. It was almost maddening listening to the tick-tocks, your head filled with the repetitive sound. The blinds were drawn, the room dark, the only light source from the hallway outside. Shadows cast over the dark mahogany furniture, creating more demons for you to contest with. You never were a fan of the dark, and certainly not now.

Over time, you regained control of your body. Your muscles started to move, and you were able to shuffle to try and find a more comfortable position. Although no stance was relaxing as you struggled to stay steady on the balls of your feet.

Hours passed, and you started to hone in on the ticking rhythm of the clock, imagining it as a tempo for you and James to dance to. He always loved dancing. You’d been excited to take him to the local dance that was run every spring, but you never did get that chance. And you’d make sure Nick paid for that lost chance by being the unruliest omega possible.

With the curtains closed, it was impossible to tell the time, and the clock was too far away to make out, so you just waited for Nick’s eventual return.

You didn't know how long it had been, but the slamming of doors indicated that Nick had emerged from his office, clearly not happy with whatever ‘advice’ he had been given by his friends. After a few minutes, he walked into the living room, sharp daggers shooting from his gaze at you. If looks could've killed, you would have been long dead.

In his hand was a bowl of porridge, steam wafting off the top. You still hadn’t eaten, and your stomach growled at the sight and smell of the food. Even though you hated the muggy texture, your body craved just about anything.

“Are you going to be good?” Nick said coolly, his mask of calmness back. “You’ll have to be punished, but it will be easier on you if you give in now.”

He approached slowly, watching the way your eyes flitted between the food and him. It was clear Nick thought you would give in as he approached, a smug look on his face.

When he was within range, you used all your strength to throw your legs out and kick the bowl from his grasp, the porcelain shattering to the ground with a smash. Beck came rushing in from the sound, stopping when Nick raised his hand to dismiss him. “Leave it.”

You felt a sense of triumph when Nick’s jaw clicked in annoyance. You weren’t going down that easy. Not with James in the forefront of your thoughts.

Nick’s fists clenched and unclenched like he was deciding whether to hit you or not before he seemingly remembered something. He didn’t touch you. Instead, wordlessly, he pivoted on his heel and left, leaving you and the discarded food without further consideration.

That was the last time you saw anyone for two days.

Or at least what you thought was two days. It was hard to approximate with the only indication of the time the chimes on the clock. Fatigued, with no more than an hour’s sleep due to the stress position and lack of food, you were second guessing how many chimes you’d counted.

Your heart leapt in your chest when Nick eventually re-emerged, his clothes different. You’d never seen him out of a suit, his muscly form adorning a plain blue t-shirt and black jeans. The clothes clung to him like you wished to. Your alpha. Your hindbrain was ecstatic at the sight of him. Pushing against your designation, you shoved all the feelings down deep. No, you could not desire the man who ruined your life.

Nick’s signature smirk was back, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you. He wanted you, too. That much was clear. Why he cared for you so much, you’d never understand. With the ticks in the background sounding, you looked at the clock tattoo that stood out starkly against his skin, like the rest of his ink.

Your eyes narrowed as you focused on the time. Two am. Was that on purpose? Did that time hold some significance? Or was it simply chosen at random? Your sight dragged to the bowl of fruit in his hands. Melon, strawberries, and apples,all cut into bite-size pieces. The hunger you felt hurt, as if your stomach was ready to eat itself.

“I can hear your stomach, puppy. Hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Nick mocked, but he was right. You were ravenous. The sweet tang in the air from the fruit mixed in with Nick’s strong scent had your head swirling.

It’d been days since you’d been touched. Usually, that would be enough for any omega to start getting touch starved, let alone a mated omega being denied by her alpha. A prime alpha. Your body yearned for Nick, and it had your anger rising. No, it wasn't fair. You shouldn’t want the man who killed your partner.

Like the first time Nick visited, you kicked the bowl from his hand, flinching at the shattering sound. As you did it, there was a flash of ire in Nick’s expression, but there was something else there too. Like he expected it from you.

“Have it your way,” Nick said simply, placing his hands in his pockets as he kicked the discarded fruit away from your feet. He was so close, you could feel his body heat, and it had you wanting to lean in. “Uh-uh. Bad dogs don’t get pats.”

Nick pulled away, pupils dilated as he took in your scent. It was a punishment for him as well. Although he could get touch elsewhere, all you got was the wall against your back and the floor beneath your toes.

This time when Nick left, tears started steadily streaming down your cheeks as anxiety clutched at your heart.

It started to get much worse.

The longer you were left untouched, the worse your mental state became. The anxiousness was quickly met with a deep depression that settled into your bones and brought upon an acute sadness that infected you like a disease.

There were often tears, howls, and whimpers. Yet you still didn’t yield when Nick visited you. You were being pulled in two directions, a tear beginning to form down your middle. Your loyalty was to James, but your body called for your alpha.

Every time someone would walk past the doorway, or you’d hear the pitter-patter of dog paws, your heart would nearly burst. A visitor? But you were almost always met with disappointment.

Nick didn’t allow the dogs in the living room, and the only time you saw anyone else was when Beck came to inject you with medicine or help you use a bedpan. He didn’t look you in the eyes, touch you, or speak to you. It was like a ghost was administering the vitamins and minerals you needed to stay alive while you refused food.

The days passed in a blur. As soon as the sun would bleed in around the curtains, it would disappear as nightfall came. At first, you liked the quiet of the night, only you and the owls hooting outside awake. But it quickly became your personal nightmare. Alone, with nothing but your thoughts, unable to sleep for more than a few minutes due to the pressure on your arms and balls of your feet.

It was torture. A brutal tactic that was breaking you down with each tick of that fucking clock. You growled into the air. Oh, how you wanted to break that clock. Tear it to shreds and leave nothing but cogs behind. Because every time you tried to escape reality, the ticking would wrench you back.

The same as the days before it, the sun began to fade, and darkness began to consume the room. You closed your eyes, hoping to get some sleep. Although it was unlikely with the throbbing pain in your shoulders. When you heard footsteps, you assumed they would merely pass by as they usually did, but your eyes fluttered open when the feet stopped in the doorway. Your eyes met Mace’s hardened gaze. It was the first time you’d seen him since you were put on the wall, and you instinctively wanted to hug him. Alpha’s best friend. Alpha’s best friend is your best friend. He watched the way your brows furrowed, and tears welled in your eyes before breaking away to begin lighting the candles that sat on the mantle.

“Mace.. help me..”

Your voice was left ignored. The candles added a soft illumination to the room. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the flickering heat, a golden amber emanating from the flames. If you touched it, you would feel something. It would hurt. But you would have chosen it. A pain you choose to bear is freedom in itself.

“Mace, alpha, please. Let me go.”

Mace didnt spare you another glance as he moved around the room, dusting and cleaning up. He even vacuumed, and it was all very odd. Nick had a maid staff for this, although you supposed they would be uncomfortable seeing a bound omega crying against the wall.

Once he was done, he flicked on the wall sconces, and your eyes shut immediately. The room is filled with light for the first time in.. well, you weren't sure. But it had been a long while. There was a buzzing behind your eyes, spots flittering across your eyelids before you braved the light.

Your eyes opened slowly, the brightness almost painful for your poor weakened body. You were growing accustomed to the darkness, feeling as if your body was becoming one with the plaster pressed against your back. There was no hiding in the light, and Mace took a deep breath at the sight of you.

You were a mess. Naked, bruised, with cuts all over from your attempted escape. It was a sight to behold. Mace left without a word, but you were jostled.

Why did he clean up? Why turn the lights on? It became more apparent when there was a new voice in the home. One you recognised from the night of the auction.

Steve walked in with Nick by his side, his lips quirking at the sight of you. Your gaze turned to Nick, vexed still in how you looked at him. But your back arched too, begging to get closer to the scent wafting from him. When you closed your eyes, you were sitting by a flower bed of geraniums with a cup of earl grey tea, and Nick was there nuzzling into your neck.

“F-Fuck.. you..” You whined. It felt as if you would die if he didn’t touch you soon. Like you’d crumble into a pile of ash for Mace to sweep up.

“It’s good you booked this for tonight. I don’t think she’d last much longer otherwise,” You hated how Steve spoke as if you were not there, and a growl left you when you opened your eyes to see his hand on Nick’s shoulder. No, you needed that touch. It’s not fair. At the same time, you wanted to rip Nick’s throat out and force-feed him it.

“This better work,” Nick’s voice was strained, the pain clear. He’d been starved of his omega for too long. But he couldn’t just let you off like nothing happened.

“It will. Trust me.”

“I trust you with my life, Steve. But I don’t know if I trust you with hers.”

Steve merely chuckled, and the men left the same way they came. You wriggled in your binds to no avail. Your body was so exhausted you could barely move. Before long, more footsteps and voices were chatting in the entryway. You recognised Lee, Charles, Ransom, Chase and Robert, all from the auction. But there were new ones too. Three voices you didn’t know that mingled in with the rest. What were they all doing here?

Beck walked in with finger food, little meatballs that looked fancy and well-presented. Mace followed, carrying a plate with different hors d’oeuvres. Some caviar looking thing. You didn’t know what it was, but your stomach grumbled nonetheless. The alphas stayed and watched as the waitstaff brought in drinks and even more food, a complete set-up on the living room table. Last brought in was a plate of natural oysters; the fishy smell had your head reeling. The food had too many scents for your brain to handle. You needed your alpha. You needed to nuzzle into him– No. You needed to kill him. You whimpered as your brain tried to figure out what it wanted.

“Now that’s a nice noise,” Ransom mocked as he entered, a glass of whisky in hand. “You want some company that bad, huh?”

“S’needy little ‘mega. Real cute too,” Lee joined him, hand on his belt that held up his uniformed slacks.

They both looked ravished at the sight of you, like you were the finest meal. Your sounds of distress began to rise. “Go away. Where’s Nick?”

“Now, now, that’s no way to talk to guests, is it? And you can’t even address your alpha correctly, tsk,” a new man entered with Charles and Chase close behind. His shades covered his eyes, but the way his thick moustache curved with his smirk told you all you needed to know. He wasn’t a good person.

“I think we can forgive her for being rude given the circumstances, don’t you think?” Yet another two men entered, and your head was beginning to swirl with the number of alpha scents in the room. The man looked rough and rugged as if he worked hard and was weathered by it.

“I think Hal is right, Lloyd. Give the omega a break for being flustered,” Hal’s companion said as he made his way to the table, taking one of the caviar toasts to snack on. The moment you heard the crunch, you opened your mouth instinctively, desperate to eat.

“Are you not feeding this thing, Fowler?” Charles called out as Nick and Steve entered together.

They were all speaking about you, not to you. And it had your blood boiling as the myriad of other emotions began to rise to the surface. “Fuck off! All of you! Leave me alone. You’re all fucking bastards. Stupid knotheaded bastards.”

Suddenly, all the attention was on you. No more chuckles or snide comments, just the piercing gaze of eleven alphas and the one beta, Steve. Your heart lurched, the intensity sudden.

“I’ll kill all of you. The moment I get out of here, you’re all dead,” you snarled as you looked at Nick. Since you’d last seen him, he’d changed into a black button-up and suit pants.

He looked like his role. A mob boss with the power of a prime alpha. But more than anything, he looked like a man sent to the point of desperation. He was holding himself with a mask of calm, but you could feel what lay beneath the surface, the same as he could for you.

“Drinks, anyone?” Hal’s companion broke the silence, and the men eased, tense shoulders releasing.

“Yeah, Ari. Good idea,” Chase kept his eyes on you as he made his way to the table.

Small talk restarted amongst the men, but you kept your gaze on your alpha. No one else mattered anyway. What was the point of this party? Some chance to show off his defying omega?

Nick ignored you, but you could feel the red string between you two. He was still connected whether he wanted to give you attention or not. You watched as he went and whispered something to Mace and Beck, the duo’s faces hardening.

They both looked at Nick with concern, but he shrugged them off, returning to his conversation with Steve and Lloyd. Like a hawk surveying your surroundings, your breathing began to quicken when Mace and Beck approached.

“Please, don’t touch me. I- I’ll kill you. I can’t– I need–” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. You needed your alpha.

“You should have thought of that before you acted up, omega,” Mace snapped, but his eyes had a sense of guilt to them.

Beck wouldn’t look at you as he and Mace worked on getting you down. When the rope went lax, you fell into Beck’s arms, your legs too weak to hold yourself up. The sobs started. You were finally feeling touch, but it was wrong. Beck’s scent wasn’t foul, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t what you needed.

Mace came up behind you, and his presence was all wrong too. “No, no, no. Get off!” You couldn’t struggle even if you had wanted to. After God knows how long suspended on pressure points, your muscles were weakened to the point that they were practically useless. Every time you went to swipe at the men, it was no more than a weak slap, Mace and Back wholly unperturbed.

“Shh, shh. You’ll only make it worse for yourself,” Beck soothed into your ear, but you could hardly hear it with your heavy cries.

Mace picked you up from Beck’s arms, cradling you for the room to look at. And look they did.

The scent in the air spiked into something hazardous, and every omega instinct told you to run. Danger. Nick stayed at the back of the room, sitting in one of the velvet armchairs with a glass of what looked to be straight vodka, shooing away Steve when he tried to tell him something.

Mace placed you in the centre of the room, your back hitting the plush rug. It was a different sensation from the cold wall, and it was nice to feel something warm and fuzzy for a split second. But the reprieve was short lived as the other alphas in the room began to approach.

You tried to crawl away, but your arms and legs didn’t move despite your mind begging them to do so.

Steve crouched before you, deft fingers gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I want you to think of one thing, omega. This is happening because you denied your alpha.”

The clock ticked in the background, timed with his words, your mouth dropping into a wail.

“This,” Tick. “Is,” Tick. “Happening,” Tick. “Because,” Tick. “Of,” Tick. “You,”

Like an odd hypnosis, you blinked as Steve pulled away. Wait. What is happening?

Whistles and howls filled the room, and it had you shivering in fear before you realised it. The scent in the room turned sickly sweet, dripping with arousal. Apart from Mace, Beck and Nick, all the men in the room were palming themselves, watching how your bare chest rose and fell with each breath.

They’re not here for a social visit.

Steve pulled down the fly to his black jeans, and your stomach twisted painfully. No. Hal and Ari joined him, the three of them taking out their hardening lengths.

It wasn't real. It was just a bad dream. This was just a nightmare, right?

“Open up, omega. And I better not feel any teeth,” Steve guided his cock to your lips, smearing the head across them. His beta scent was as powerful as the alpha’s around him, making your head pound. It was far too real to be a dream.

“No,” You shook your head. No. No way. But with the way the ticking clock buzzed in your brain and touch starved sensory overload took over when Steve gripped your jaw and squeezed painfully, you started to lose your fight as your mouth opened.

Steve didn’t give you a chance for a snide comment before he pushed himself into your wet mouth, groaning under his breath at the feeling of your tongue gliding against him.

Betas typically weren’t as well endowed as alphas, but it seemed Steve was an exception with the way he filled your mouth to the brim. Your lips stretched painfully around him, and while you were tempted to bite, the repercussions scared you too much.

While he began working himself in your mouth, Hal spat into your hand before resting his length into it. When you didn’t move to stroke him, he wrapped his hand over yours, directing you to move your hand up and down. His ridges and veins slid across your palm, and you couldn’t wrap your whole fist around him with how thick he was.

Ari gently raised your tired legs, spreading them open so he could look at your bare pussy. He let out a low whistle as he ran his fingers up and down your folds. You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t with Steve holding you steady.

“That’s it, ‘mega. You’re crying, but you’re so wet,” Ari breathed out, testingly pressing a finger into your awaiting heat. He was right. Your body reacted to the attention it had denied for so long despite your want to escape.

“Jesus, just fuck her already,” Robert sniped, his impatience clear as Ari stretched you open, a second and third finger added to your core.

“I’ll fuck her when I’m ready to fuck her,” Ari snapped back. The tension between the alpha’s made you feel even more uncomfortable.

Your distress was evident when you whimpered around Steve’s cock. Hal cooed to you, thrusting into your hand and gently brushing his fingers over your arm. “You’re alright. C’mon, that’s it, good girl. Good fucking girl.”

Ari prepped you, working you open with his fingers, but you hardly registered it as your head felt underwater, drowning in the mixed scents of all the men.

Going from touch starved to suddenly overwhelmed was a horrible, nauseating feeling that had you wanting to crawl to Nick and beg for him to make it stop. But when you managed to look at him, you were met with little help. Slouched in his chair, with the dogs by his side, sat Nick. Mace and Beck situated not far from him, all observing you.

“Don’t look at him. Eyes on me, omega,” Steve commanded, tapping your cheek until you turned your attention back to him. His thrusts into your mouth were on the side of gentle, easing himself in and out without choking you. “Remember what I said. This is all because of you.”

The tears started streaming more heavily down your cheeks as Ari pressed the head of his cock between your folds. You tried to squirm your hips away, but he held you firm. “I have no intention of hurting you. If you stay still this will be easier.”

You didn’t listen, continuing to try to writhe away. What would James think if he saw this? He’d be horrified.

The scents of the three started getting headier, along with those still waiting their turn. You could cut the air with a knife, the atmosphere rigid and palpable.

You cried as Ari bottomed out, his cock stretching you. It wasn’t like the stretch of your alpha, and the mere fact that it wasn’t your alpha was enough to have your body clenching, your walls wanting to force him out. “Fuck. So fuckin’ tight,” Ari cursed under his breath, beginning languid movements that had you seeing stars.

Like a ragdoll, your body met the needs of the three alphas. Their moans filled the room while you wished for nothing more than to sink into oblivion.

“That’s it, good girl. Good little omega. Take it nice and deep. Feels good, doesn’t it? Yeah, yeah I know it does.”

You didn’t register the words of praise, but your attention snapped back to reality when you heard Nick speak.

“Stop praising her like she’s yours,” The prime alpha ground his teeth, jaw set tight.

Ari stopped his movements, stilling inside you while his length pulsed. “None of us want her. We know she’s yours. This is business.”

“I want my omega to smell like me. She smells like you,” Hal commented, keeping your hand moving while his eyes fluttered.

The response seemed to satisfy Nick, and they quickly resumed taking what they needed from you.

It wasn’t long before you could feel them getting close, their breaths heavier, sweat beading along their brows. But before their knots could swell, they all pulled away, leaving you flustered. What.. they weren’t going to finish? You were almost grateful. Perhaps that was it.

Beck came and gave you a once over before he nodded to the rest of the men, and another three stepped up. Lee, Chase and Charles approached, their cocks already red and leaking from watching you getting used by their friends and acquaintances.

It’s almost like a party, with the guests enjoying the food, drinks and the host's omega. In a way, you were no more than food on a platter, ready for the taking. Ready to be picked at by all the guests.

Lee was rough as he settled between your legs, taking the chance to grope at your flesh and feel every curve. “Cute lil’ thing. S’fucking soft too. I can see why she’s yours, Nick.”

You turned your head to look at your alpha, your free hand gripping the carpet to try and pull yourself closer to him. Maybe if you could get there, he’d end this. You managed to flip yourself onto your stomach, but all it did was give you carpet burn when you tried to drag yourself.

“Are we that scary that you’re trying to run?” Chase leant in close to the shell of your ear, playfully nipping at it. “Oh, I can be really frightening if you want.”

There was something else there. A supernatural sense that chilled you to the bone. You looked at him with wide eyes, but he merely looked smug with a quirk of his head. “Aren’t you curious to know what it is? Want to have a scare, little omega?”

“Stop it, Chase. Don’t fuck with her,” Mace interjected, cutting Chase off, who merely pouted in response.

“Fuck her, not fuck with her. Got it,” Chase gave a charismatic smile, leaning down to lick a stripe across your cheek before rubbing his cock over it, so his saliva smeared all over your skin. It was a sickly slimy feeling that made you want to throw up, not that your stomach had any contents at the moment.

He used the makeshift lube to easily slip between your swollen lips, pressing in hard and deep until he hit the back of your throat. You choked around him, but it provoked him to do it more.

Lee lifted you so you were on all fours, giving your ass a smack that left a red hand-shaped welt in its wake. Charles helped you steady yourself before taking your hand for his use. This time you got the message, beginning to stroke him while Lee started to thrust.

Maybe if you just played along, this would all be over quickly.

The strain on your body was paramount as Lee jolted you with each brutal snap of his hips, the fabric of his uniform scratching against your ass. His hands held on so tight to your hips that there would surely be bruises. “S’fucking good. Shit. I wanna try her mouth though.”

Chase pulled out of your mouth with a grunt, his length shining with your spit. You coughed, finally able to breathe properly, some of your saliva falling into the plush rug below.

“Messy little thing,” Charles groaned, moving to your mouth along with Lee. “Think we’ll both fit?”

“No, but it’ll be amusing to see her tryin’,” Lee snickered before his and Charles’ cocks breached your mouth.

A frail scream left you from the stretch, your eyes scrunching closed from the intrusion. They didn't fit, but they fucked into your mouth regardless. When Lee pulled back, Charles thrusted forward, and when Charles pulled back, Lee pushed in. They worked in tandem, ignoring your broken pleads that were muffled by their dicks.

Chase wasted no time in burying himself to the hilt in you, his thrusts deep and rutted like an animal chasing a primal instinct. “God, fuck, so good. Can I bite her?”

“No,” Beck and Mace snapped in unison, arms crossed as they forced themselves to watch.

Chase shrugged, the slaps of his hips getting louder as he started getting rougher. Your ass was burning from the impact, and your lips stretched and sore. Everything hurt. Emotionally and physically.

Every time you closed your eyes you saw flashes of James holding his hand out to you. Please. Please get me out of here. But he was no more than a ghost now. There was no one who could save you now.

“If you’re broken, you won’t know any better anymore.”

The picture of James began to warble, his face becoming obscured and replaced. Instead of your lover, it was your alpha. Nick. You needed him more than ever.

Your mind was becoming another for the world’s graveyard of broken souls. Discarded, crossed by everyone around them, unmet with mercy. But this meant you could let go. You would never move on, but you didn’t have to in order to be free. While you would never move from the loss and grief, you could let go. And perhaps that gave you a chance at a gilded freedom provided by your alpha.

Is it so bad to just want to be happy?

You were a bird with golden wings, feathers so bright it left others in awe, and song so sweet it had others listening intently. Your intentions were pure. All you ever wanted was to love and be loved, live a simple life and find some happiness. But that was rare in this world. Not many held the purity of joy that you did. And so, you’d become imprisoned. A bird fluttering, confined by the bars of your alpha.

Alphas had an incessant need to conquer, to clip the wings of those around them so they felt more powerful, even if they were the privileged ones in the first place. You never stood a chance.

For James, you’d waged a war you never could have vanquished. You’d done nothing more than bring a knife to a gunfight. And the lengths Nick Fowler would go to break you had you reaching a realisation.

Letting go of James meant that he was part of your history, not your destiny. And while that was painful, keeping his memory close was weighing you down like weights on your ankles, dragging you down to the watery depths where monsters lay in wait.

It was easy to hate Nick Fowler. To engrave the words ‘I hate you’ onto your heart. But to let go, to allow yourself to find whatever slither of happiness awaits you, you could not hate. It was simply too painful. A burden you could not bear. Not anymore.

The world was beginning to fracture at the sides, your mind hardening as the cracks started to form. You weren’t going to last like this. And that was okay.

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay. Let go, baby. Let go,” James’s voice rang in your head, and you howled louder than ever.

The dogs started barking and snarling at your distress, and Nick had to hold them back by their collars to stop them from trying to protect you.

Chase’s nails dug into your hips, Lee pulled at your hair, and Charles blocked your nose. The pain bloomed like a macabre rose for your mental funeral of James, and your eyes rolled back into your head as your arms gave way. Lee looped an arm under you to hold you up while they kept fucking your mouth, your spluttered breaths ignored.

You didn’t see how Steve whispered to Nick or how the other alphas were entranced with how your body began to shake. The incessant barks fell on deaf ears before the dogs had to be ushered out of the room by Mace. They let out whines as they were denied saving you from shattering.

The way you viewed Nick began to rapidly change. The bitterness fled like animals fleeing a bushfire at pace. The past was the past, but your prime alpha was the future. Hormones took over, your hindbrain taking control. All that was left was an omega desperate for their alpha.

The convulsions didn’t stop as you began to run out of breath, Chase fucking you like a man unhinged until his knotted base started to swell and catch at the entrance to your cunt. Your body seized. You needed your alpha’s knot, not Chase’s.

Luckily, the alpha’s did what the men before had done, letting you go just before they reached their climax. Your body was dropped to the floor on your stomach with an ungraceful oof, vision hazy as you tried to lift yourself up. But you had no energy left, everything screaming to just get to your alpha.

“Alpha,” You whimpered, and when your eyes met Nick’s, he looked at you with veiled shock. You’d called for him. After all the fighting and pain, you were calling for him. “Alpha, please.”

“Not yet, omega. You’re almost done,” Steve intervened, not allowing Nick to speak for fear that he would give in now that you were breaking for him.

After Beck checked you over, his jaw set, Ransom, Robert and Lloyd descended upon you, and their gazes were by far the darkest. The aura that oozed off them was malice, and it had you shivering from your spot on the floor.

“Aw, sunshine. You’re shaking like a leaf,” Lloyd laughed, squatting before you, biting on the end of his sunglasses before he looped them through the front of his shirt. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Please, I just want my alpha,” you cried, surprised you still had tears left after the amount you’d been sobbing.

“You’ll get him. But like Stevie said, you’ve got to make us happy first,” his fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head to examine you.

“Dibs on fucking her mouth,” Ransom cut in, taking some food from the table onto a small plate. You watched him as he took two oysters and some salmon, confused as to why he was getting food as he neared you.

The others were helping themselves too. Although Lee and Hal turned their noses up at it, seemingly not keen on fancy food. They’re more homebodies, you guessed.

“I’ll take those pretty little hands,” Robert licked his lips, cock bobbing as it stood proud, released from his slacks.

You were lifted from your place on the ground, Lloyd sitting with his back to the couch seat and ass against the plush rug. He dragged you into his lap and directly against his hard cock, grinding himself against you.

“I don’t want this, please, stop,” you yowled, trying to wriggle away, but all it did was make Lloyd groan as he kept grinding against you.

“What you want doesn’t matter, sweets,” Robert sniggered, coming up close to whisper in your ear. “You’re at our mercy now.”

Despite having nothing left to lose, the fear was immobilising. You weren’t afraid of death, but living terrified you. The unrelenting pain it brought. The bleakness. All you had now was your alpha, the thing you craved most despite the circumstances. Wanting Nick Fowler was a horrifying feeling.

The three vultures that remained between you and your alpha had you feeling like you were swimming, but when you tried to put your feet down on the sand, the water was far deeper than you thought, and there was nothing there to ground you.

Your brain felt like mush, a mess of emotion and need. Despite your protests, your pussy provided more than enough slickness for Lloyd to rub his cock between your folds before impatiently beginning to guide you down onto his cock. You cried out but couldn’t move with his grip on you, Ransom and Robert watching.

“Put those hands to use, c’mon, we don’t have all day,” Robert grabbed your wrists, a harsh grip that had your bones aching. There was no need for the use of force, but he seemed to find a sick thrill in the power of watching you in pain, just as Lloyd and Ransom did.

Lloyd pulled you down until you reached the scruffy hair at the base of his cock, using your body like a fleshlight up and down on his dick. Robert painfully clung to your wrists as he guided your wet palms over his rigid flesh, all while Ransom watched amusedly.

“You must be hungry, hm? I bet you’d love some salmon, ducky,” Ransom teased, eating the smoked salmon as he towered over you while your eyes fluttered from how Lloyd dragged his length along your walls.

You shook your head. You wanted none of it. You wanted to be in the arms of your alpha and nothing more.

The stability of your mind was wavering, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to form words with the way everything hurt. Physically your body was fatigued and battered, and mentally you were a wilted rose, fragile petals torn.

“Hm. I don’t like being ignored, omega. Your alpha brought us here to teach you a lesson, one I intend to make sure you remember.” Ransom held up the fishy shells under your nose with nothing but oysters left on his plate.

You retched, stomach rolling in disgust from the salty sea smell coming from the slimy thing. You’d never had an oyster before, and you had no wish to try it now.

Ransom chuckled as Lloyd kept working you over his cock, with Robert using your hands to stroke himself.

For a moment, your eyes checked over the rest of the room's occupants. You searched for a reprieve, but no one was coming to your rescue. There was a gain in having you break like this, and you whined into the air as you tried to squirm towards your alpha but were held firm by Lloyd’s ring-covered fingers. “Uh-uh sunshine, no getting off my lap ‘til I’m done with you.”

“I want you fed before you take my cock, ducky. That way you don’t get nibbly on me. Who knows how far your hunger goes, isn’t that right?” He spoke to you like a child that’s being chastised, and it had a heat building in your cheeks. It was humiliating and had you spiralling further into the shell of an omega.

Ransom didn’t allow you to shy away. His fingers gripped your cheeks so your mouth opened in a forced pout. It took all your might to close your lips, refusing to let anything go into your mouth.

A strong arm looped around your neck, Lloyd’s bicep curling around your throat as he kept making you ride him. A strangled sound escaped you as the breath was knocked from your lungs, shock taking over.

Robert joined in, pulling your hair so your head tilted back into Lloyd’s tight hold. The world began spinning the more oxygen you lost, your lungs cut off from filling with air.

“P- Pl-“ You couldn’t get the words out, tingles all over your body with the way the world began to have a vignette at the edges.

Was this the final curtain call? Was the sick show finally coming to an end?

“Let her go, Lloyd,” Hal called, annoyance clear despite how his cock bobbed hard between his legs.

Mace and Beck stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Steve stopped them. “You want your friend to get the omega of his dreams? Then you need to let this happen.”

“They’re hurting her,” Mace snapped, and you reached out your free hand towards them despite the way your body was beginning to give way.

“A little pain is necessary. She will survive.”

Using your distracted state, Ransom opened your mouth and slid the raw oyster out of its shell and onto your tongue.

Your eyes went wide at the sudden movement. Before you could spit out the slimy food, Ransom clamped his hand over your mouth and nose. Your attempts to flail were fruitless, and the longer it lay in your mouth, the stronger the oyster’s taste became.

You cried against Ransom’s hand as you chewed, which was a mistake in itself, and swallowed the oyster.

“You’re not meant to chew it so much, silly ducky,” Ransom laughed heartily, amused at your disgust. “Here, let's try that again. Now, do as I say. Chew it twice, then swallow.”

Lloyd and Robert loosened their grips so you could breathe, and when Ransom moved his hand, you gulped in air greedily. “N-No. No more,” you begged to deaf ears.

The two alpha’s held you still as Ransom held the second oyster to your lips. You turned your head away despite the hold in the roots of your hair, but it was useless.

Ransom forced the second oyster into your mouth, and you wanted to throw up. You did as the alpha had told you. You gave two chews and swallowed. It was far less horrid, but still an experience that had you gagging when you were released.

Your clear distress had Lloyd’s cock twitching inside you, his breath hot against the back of your neck as he started fucking up into you again.

“You’d think I’d fed her a lemon. Stupid slut, I could buy an omega for the price of these,” Ransom sniped, throwing the plate aside.

“Watch it, Ransom,” Beck growled, Mace barely holding him back from approaching.

“What? She’s a stupid—”

“She isn’t yours to insult,” Beck spat, only backing down when Ransom raised his hands in concedement.

Like the others before them, the three alphas used you for their pleasure. Your brain started to check out, and dissociate, taking you to a better place.

But for some reason, every better place you could think of had Nick there. Your alpha. As long as his scent enveloped you, you were safe. It was a rapidly growing dependency.

When the alphas grabbed at you harshly, you wondered. Would Nick let you build a nest with his clothes? You didn’t want to be without him while he was busy.

If Ransom, Lloyd and Robert noticed you zoning out, they didn’t say anything. They just used you harder until their knots were beginning to swell.

Steve joined the scene, your eyes dazedly watching him as he helped the others lay you down on the rug. You turned your head to the side, the faintest waft of your alpha coming from the fabric. You rubbed your nose into it, a high whine coming from you.

“She’s fucked stupid,” Charles said, mostly in amazement at the scene of you nuzzling into the rug. There were a few laughs in response, words coming through one ear and out the other as you struggled to keep up with all the men surrounding you.

You couldn’t focus as they stood over you, your visuals overloaded. But when the first shooting string of warmth hit you, you realised what was happening. Your ears clued into the distinct groans of the alphas, but their salty-twinged scent covered your skin.

You gasped, wanting to escape it, but multiple hands held you down as more smells began mixing.

It was complete and utter sensory overload as the eight alphas (and one beta) stroked themselves until they came over you, their knots hot and heavy in their grips as sticky white covered you. You wailed, trying to get to your alpha.

It smelt wrong, like getting hit to the head with a sledgehammer as the scents covered you.

“Alpha! Help me! Make it stop, please,” you thrashed, and before long, the men were finished. You sobbed, completely drenched in their cum.

Without realising it, your body began shaking, the touch starvation to complete overload from other scents sending you into a frenzy. The sobs that wracked through you were miserable, pathetic wails sounding as the anxiety hit you.

The men moved away to mingle, and your knight in shining armour arrived.

Nick’s face came into view, and you wailed with outstretched grabby hands.

He smiled at you. A genuine smile that had warmth flowing through your bond. He’d got what he wanted. You. Broken. And now his to put back together.

“Look at you, puppy. My beautiful girl,” he cooed to you, taking a soft towel Beck handed him to begin wiping away some of the cum from your skin.

“I can’t- I can’t- I can’t-“ Your teeth chattered as your heart raced in quick tandem. The panic was unrelenting, but your muscles were too spent to raise yourself and touch him.

Nick’s large palm cupped your cheek, and he leaned in close. His rings were cold against your hot flesh, which was a soothing feeling. “Tell me what you want. What you need, little pup.”

There was nothing left of you. The girl who was taken from her home was no more.

“Y-You. You. Alpha, help me, please. I can’t- Oh god- I can’t d-do this,” you cried between hiccuped sniffles, and Nick nuzzled his nose against yours.

“See? All you had to do was ask,” Nick gently jabbed, and the normal you would have snapped back. But you weren’t the same person anymore, not after what he’d put you through.

Without acknowledging the guests, Nick cleaned you up the best he could with the towel before he scooped you up bridal style. He began carrying you towards the bedroom, and it had some relief coming to your cluttered mind.

You wanted to be as far away from the other alphas as possible. The whole way up, Nick spoke to you like a new pet. “Such a pretty pup, aren’t you? My pretty pup. I can’t wait to give my sweet puppy a shower. Silly little thing, getting all dirty.”

He carried you to the bathroom and placed you on the cold tiled floor to prepare the shower.

But when he moved away from you, your brain just couldn’t handle it. He was too far, even though he was only a few steps away. “Alpha,” you whined, and Nick turned to look at your beady eyes staring up at you.

“Say it again,” he rasped, fingers twitching at his sides.

“Alpha. Don’t leave me, please.”

“I’m not leaving you, pup. I’m trying to get the shower ready,” Nick smirked, the enjoyment of your attachment evident. He moved to pick you up, and this time he put you on his hip as he began running the water and getting all the things he’d need.

“You’re a needy pup, aren’t you?” Nick said, but it wasn’t an insult. It was clear he was revelling in it. He manoeuvred you around while he undressed, and for the first time, you moved to touch him first.

You dragged your nose over his neck, inhaling his scent that had your heart fluttering and pussy clenching. Your fingers ran over his inked skin, feeling each chiselled muscle within reach. From biceps to abs, you felt all of it. This was.. yours? Could you call Nick yours?

The warm water hit your back as Nick walked you under the stream, both of you sighing in relief. It had been a long day.

“Are you going to get other omegas?” It wasn’t unheard of, alphas making a little harem for themselves.

You felt the flash of anger through the bond, and Nick growled in offence. “No. I only want you, omega.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask. What made you so special? A small-town girl in a prime alpha’s world.

“Later you can ask all the questions you want. But for now, let me make you feel good,” Nick let your back rest against the shower wall, wrapping your legs around his waist so you were sandwiched.

The warm water covered you both, and your eyes fluttered closed. Nick took the body wash, using his hands to cover you in the suds. The distressing smell of the other men started to dissipate with each swipe of his hands, the scent replaced with something neutral before the strong smell of your alpha wafted over the top.

Nick rubbed the scent gland on his wrist across your body, allowing you to relax while his aura took over. It calmed you completely, your body going lax the more he touched you.

This was all you wanted now.

You shuddered when his fingers grazed your nipples, the nubs hardening the more he ran his fingers over them. He drew languid circles with his fingers around your areolas, the teasing causing you to whine, but you made no move to stop him. It felt too good.

Even if it tried, the water couldn’t wash away the slick forming between your folds. Your eyes fluttered open, and you gasped at the sight you were met with.

Dark, lustful eyes met yours, and you felt swallowed whole by the way Nick looked at you. “You want me to touch you, don’t you?” He whispered, and you nodded.

Nick licked your cheek as his hands travelled lower, resting on your stomach. “Here?”

You whined and wriggled your hips, feeling his hardening length pulse against your ass.

“Use your words, omega,” Nick’s fingers tickled your tummy, and you laughed. When was the last time you’d laughed?

“Lower,” you breathed out, still squirming for contact.

“Hm, how about here?” Nick’s fingers moved lower until they sat at the top of your cunt, teasing your mound.

You gripped his shoulders, shaking your head. “Lower, alpha, please.”

“That’s my girl,” Nick purred before his fingers dipped between your folds.

Your body became ignited the moment he breezed over your clit, your cunt throbbing for any contact. “Oh, oh,” you moaned. “Please, alpha, right there.”

“Right here? Well, since you used your manners and asked so nicely,” Nick rolled your clit between his fingers, causing you to howl in surprise as the pleasure shot through your entire body.

After being starved and tortured, this was heaven.

He didn’t stop, beginning to rub your clit as he ground his cock against you, his other hand palming at your soft mounds. The sounds pulled from you were obscene as your body was, for once, manipulated for your pleasure.

The heat in your core started to grow rapidly, and the connection in your bond meant that you were feeding off each other’s arousal, only heightening the experience. Just as he could feel you, you could feel the burning fire coming from Nick. It had goosebumps rising on your skin and your hair standing on end.

“That’s it, puppy. Let your alpha take care of you.” Nick’s words were entirely possessive, and it only further ingrained his hold over you. Your alpha. He saved you from the bad men. Right? He took you away. And now he’s taking care of you. That’s not so bad, right?

Your sounds started to hit a higher pitch as Nick increased his pace, leaning forward to lick and nip at your neck as his fingers didn’t stop toying with your clit. “Does that feel good? Having your alpha play with your puppy pussy?”

It all started to become too much, your body buzzing with the electrical currents of pleasure. Your legs began to tense around Nick’s hips as your core tightened. “Alpha, I’m– I’m going to–”

“That’s it, pup. Come for your alpha. Give me everything,” Nick snarled into your ear, and his voice's lewd harshness had you reaching your peak.

You came with a yowl, body shuddering as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Your fingers gripped Nick’s shoulders so tightly that your nails dug into his skin, leaving crescents in his mix of black ink and pale flesh.

“Good girl, gushing against my cock. I didn’t even have to finger you,” Nick smiled, and the old you would have been cocky about how his fingers would never have been enough for you. But now, all you could do was give a small smile in return. Your alpha was cocky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Nick leaned forward to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear as he positioned himself against your clenching hole, and you could tell he was smiling in the way he spoke. “Are you ready for your treat, puppy?”

Nick pushed his hips up without warning, burying his cock deep into your awaiting heat. You choked out a moan at the sudden feeling of fullness. Having Nick stretching you out around his length felt right. A cosy feeling of home made you feel safe and loved. Like the best nest you could ever build.

“A perfect fit, just for me,” Nick grunted as he held you tight so he could thrust up, massaging your walls with each groove and vein along his dick.

You closed your eyes, allowing your head to fall forward into the crook of Nick’s neck. He rolled his hips in slow, languid movements that had you constantly whining. The air felt thick enough to cut with a knife, but you didn’t need air when you had your alpha.

The movement of your bodies together was slow and passionate. Nick’s hands gently pulled your head back, so your forehead rested against his. You could feel the heat of his breath against your lips, and it had you leaning in closer until your lips met.

Both of you were drenched from the shower’s spray, making it easy to slide your lips together as Nick cupped your cheeks. He deepened the kiss, his hips grinding deep and hard as you bounced against the wall.

Nick bit your bottom lip, allowing blood to pool between you before he sucked it away, a hum mixing in with his groans. He didn’t break away from the kiss. Instead, he slid his tongue into your mouth, swirling it against yours and fucking your mouth with it.

The action was vulgar, but it had your walls fluttering around Nick’s cock regardless. Nick’s pace started to quicken, and he had to pull away to let out a loud, whimpered moan. “So fucking good.”

His thrusts began to increase in rhythm, and Nick grabbed your hips to fuck harder into you. He tilted his head to the side so you could return to your spot on his neck as you clung to him. The pleasure was beyond intense, and it felt like there was nothing else in the world but you two.

“Bite me,” Nick hissed, and you pulled back in shock. “You heard me. Bite me, omega. Right fucking now.”

Lost in the lust and the way it made your brain haze, your brows furrowed. Surely he didn’t mean his mating spot. You went to bite his shoulder, away from his mating gland, but Nick harshly slapped your ass in response, earning a squeak from you. “Don’t make me ask again, omega. Bite me.”

Nervousness flittered between the arousal. It was common for omegas to bite their alphas. But there was nothing common about this companionship. If you bit Nick, it would only strengthen the bond you two share. The old you would want anything but making the bond stronger. But now, the idea of it was endearing.

Nick thrust upwards sharply, his cock brushing against your g-spot. You moaned before you let your hindbrain take over and lowered your teeth to Nick’s mating gland. Heart racing, you bit down.

“Fuck, yes, yes, that’s it omega. You’re doing so fucking good,” Nick howled, throwing his head back as he clung to you, his hips not faltering for a moment. His balls slapped against your ass, his demeanour growing more feral as the metallic taste of his ichor twanged against your tongue.

You held your jaw firm, letting the bite take hold as the coils in your core began tightening again. The wash of arousal in the bond grew tenfold, the connection strengthening as the bite set. Just as he had bonded you, you had bonded Nick. There was no turning back now.

If there wasn’t water washing you clean, you’d both have been covered in a sheen of sweat as every nerve felt as if it was on fire. “M’c-close, fuck, you feel too good.” Nick’s thrusts began desperate and reckless, setting a merciless rhythm that had heat pooling in your lower back and blooming across the rest of your body.

“Alpha, oh, a-alpha,” you managed to get out as you pulled away, your back arching. You bit your lower lip, trying to hold back your sounds.

“Let me hear you, need to hear you,” Nick gripped your chin, your face millimetres away as his knot began to swell.

Abandoning any semblance of reservation, you let the moans run free. The more his knot started to catch at your entrance, the closer you got to your orgasm. Neither of you could speak as your stuttered groans mixed together.

Nick held your gaze as his knot finally stuck, his dilated pupils baring his soul as you felt the first shoot of his cum inside you. He reached between you, swirling his finger around your clit until you came with a wail.

The way you clenched around him milked his cock, his seed filling your plugged pussy. “Take it all, omega. My omega.”

“Yours,” you sighed, letting your body go lax against Nick.

He held you up for a few minutes, neither of you speaking as you enjoyed the moment of peace.

Peace. That’s what this was. No fighting. No running. No pain. Just.. quiet.

All you could hear was your panting breaths and the steady stream of water. It was as if you stood upon a bridge, looking down at the river's stream below. The wind whipped in your hair, and you sat upon the railing that stopped people from falling. Did you want to fall? You could admire the view as you flew like a bird to the rocks awaiting below. Perhaps it would be like the movies where it all happened in slow motion, or maybe it would be a fast plummet that quickly brought upon the darkness. You swung your feet, staring down at the water. James was down there. He was waiting.

“Let's get you dry before you get a chill,” a soft voice called to you, and you looked over your shoulder to see Nick behind you. You turned back to the ground kilometres below. But James was down there. “C’mon, I can’t have you getting sick.”

A towel wrapped around your shoulders, enveloping you in a warmth that had you moving away from the bannister.

You blinked, back in reality. Nick placed you on the counter, drying you with care. “There she is. Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere,” you lied, letting Nick take care of you and himself.

“You’re a bad liar, omega,” Nick quipped, but he didn’t push you on it. He seemed content enough to have you yearning for him.

Nick carried you to the bedroom on his hip when he'd finished, where Mace and Beck were waiting with the dogs sitting at their feet. “The guests have left?” Nick asked, to which Mace nodded. “Good. Make sure to pay each of them accordingly.”

Apollo came up and sniffed at your hanging feet, tickling your toes when he licked at you. You giggled, and it had the dogs ears perking up.

“Go on, you can pet him.” Nick lowered you so you could kneel on the floor and give Apollo some pats. Hermes and Icarus quickly joined, all revelling in the attention from you.

“I’ve never seen them so affectionate,” Beck commented, a smile on his lips.

It was an uncharacteristically nice moment as you played with the dogs. You were distracted with the pets as Nick, Mace, and Beck set up the room. A teapot of earl grey tea was placed on the nightstand, and a tray of fruits and sandwiches was on the bed.

“Puppy, we’re going to have a high tea. I need to make sure we get some food in you,” Nick picked you back up, taking you away from the dogs and into the plushness of his bed. The covers rustled as Nick lay you down. Before joining you, he lifted the duvet and sheets so you could sit under them. He propped his back up against the pillows and pulled you close against his side.

Mace and Beck left, taking the dogs with them after they knew you were alright. Nick held a chicken sandwich to your mouth, and you allowed him to feed you. As he did, you couldn’t stop staring at the clock piece on his hand.

“Why two am?” You asked, eyeing the time on his tattoo.

Nick stiffened and froze for a moment. You’d stuck a nerve. It was evident in the way his eyes seemed glossier than usual.

“It’s not a pretty story, puppy.”

“It never is. Doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be told.”

Nick let out a sigh, picking at the sandwich as he kept giving you small bites. He pulled you against his chest so you couldn’t see his expression. “I failed to save my mother and sister at two am.”

“From who?” You asked, shocked at the admittance of such a loss.

“My father,” Nick gritted out, and he held you so tight, it felt as if your bones would break.

The answer confused you. Nick was acting kindly towards you now and obviously cared about the women in his family. “But then... Why do the work you do? If you lost your family to violence?”

Nick stayed silent for a moment, contemplating his thoughts before he spoke. “Because the world is cruel and hopeless. It’s no more than a chorus of dead souls looking for meaning. When people speak to you, they don’t look at you. They look through you. There’s no connection. There’s no saviour. It’s an unrelenting emptiness you’re forced to find a fill for. And this business fills that gap for me. I’m a slave to no one. I’m selfish. I make all the money I need. And it brought me to you, my omega,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and for a moment, you could swear you felt a tear drip into your hair. “Life is nothing more than sex and violence and a mix of resonance and quiet. But you bring me song, omega. A soft melody that warms my heart. The ends justify the means.”

“Why me?”

“My mother would have loved you. She always loved the smell of roses; you have that beautiful scent. She’d tend to our garden every day. It’s as if you sprouted from my memory of her. I knew from the moment I scented you that I had to have you. You make me happy.”

Nick pressed another kiss to your head before he returned to feeding you. You didn’t question him further. The one enquiry had unearthed enough. And you were tired. So tired.

It was hard to keep your eyes open, and Nick noticed with a soft chuckle. “It’s okay, omega. Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He helped you lie down, pulling the covers up so you were snuggled tight. Nick spooned you, letting his lips rest against your shoulder.

You wondered if you’d dream. Perhaps you would dream of the sweet reprieve of death, something you’d thought about many times since you’d come to Nick Fowler's domain.

But as you thought about it, the idealism of perishing no longer seemed captivating.

You wanted to wake up to your alpha, and continue to live with him. Live for him. For he was all you needed in this sick world.

Because Nick Fowler had broken you. He had won. And now he held your future in the palm of his hand.

Right as you drifted to a state of rest, Nick snuggled in close, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Fight me again, omega, and the consequences will be worse than your most horrifying nightmare. You’re mine. There’s no escaping that now. Sleep knowing your world is mine.”

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brattyprettysub2 · 3 months

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Stupid Little Bun

All characters in this piece of fiction are role-playing adults.

Bunbun is sleeping when Lance gets home. That's not unusual. She often uses naps to fill her day, even though he always leaves her with a lovely collection of toys. There are squeaky toys and jingly bells dangling from a plastic frame for her to bat at; she has her aerial swing for her silly kitty games, though she's only allowed to use that if she has a plug in her bottom and Lance didn't give her one this morning. There are several thick dildos attached with suction cups to various surfaces around the house -- to the floors and mirrors, mostly, though there is one on the wall of the shower. It's her favourite dildo, so she has to have the water running when she uses that one. She's not allowed to open the tap entirely; an empty-headed little bunny like her would end up wasting too much water. She has to open it so that there's just an annoying little trickle of cold water dripping onto her twitchy bunny nose as she rides her favourite toy.

He isn't sure how often she actually uses that one. He only finds the water still running when he comes home about once a week, but maybe the stupid little pup remembers to turn it off on other occasions. He's having cameras installed this weekend, so he'll have a better idea of how his pet spends her days when he's at work. They'll connect to an app on his phone and if he pays extra, he can stream the videos to subscribers. Bunbun might end up with quite a few fans.

Little Bunbun's tuckered out today. Usually she wakes up when she hears the front door opening, but she's still asleep even after he has taken off his shoes and hung up his coat. He walks over to where she's sleeping on her plush dog bed and crouches down beside her. "Bunbun," he coos in a sing-song voice. "Kitty, Master's home."

She jolts awake, blinking and confused and her tongue already lolling out in puppyish excitement. There's a patch of drool on her bed; she really is such a messy little thing. She squeaks excitedly, knowing better by now to try and use people words -- that training only took about three weeks of her getting a clothes peg on her tongue every time she tried to speak rather than making noises like a good pet.

"Hey, Bunbun," he says, laughing when she immediately shoves her face into his crotch. That had been an easy trick to teach; she'd just received a reward every time she'd greeted him in the way a pretty, brainless pet should, and even though she doesn't need the training any more, a bit of reinforcement doesn't hurt. He rubs a hand down her back, trailing down her spine all the way down to her bum, and slides a finger between her cheeks. He rubs the pad of his finger against her hole. She used to flinch at the touch of a dry finger, scared that he'd try to push it inside her, but now, she arches her back and presses back against it.

"Slutty puppy," he says fondly, then pulls back and pushes the same finger that was pressed against her hole into her mouth, pressing down hard on her tongue and making her drool even more. She goes a little cross-eyed and he laughs.

She was confused at first, when he kept calling her puppy and kitty and bunny, sometimes using two or more in the same sentence. Every time she tried to ask, though, she ended up with a clothes peg on her tongue. Finally, one evening, she sat at his feet and pawed at his knee and made squeaky, questioning noises, cocking her head like a curious puppy.

"Okay," he said, stroking her hair. It was growing back from when he'd shaved it and was adorably tufty, making her look like a fluffy duckling -- maybe a new pet to add to the list. "One question," he said.

"Master, why --" She blinked several times, frowning. He hoped that one day, it would have been long enough that she would forget how to put sentences together entirely. "Master, why puppy an' kitty an' bun?"

He cupped her face in his hands and booped her bunny nose. Truthfully, he liked the lack of a solid identity for her; he liked that she didn't have a single animal to latch onto and model herself on; he liked that she wasn't finding it easy. Sometimes he'd given her a command and he could see her hesitating, trying to work out if he wanted her to respond like a bunny or a puppy or a kitty. He liked the confusion, liked the fear. But he couldn't say that to her; her silly little pet brain just wouldn't understand.

"Because you are a puppy and a kitty and a bunny!" he said, smiling widely so she'd know this was a good thing. His voice was overly cheery and he could practically see a part of her mind fighting against it, wanting to call him a patronising bastard as she had so often at the start, but the rest of her was so happy that Master was happy! A little bit of drool spilled down her chin and he wiped it away with his thumb. "You're playful like a kitty and you're humpy like a puppy and you're so stupid, aren't you, just like a bunny?" She stared at him with wide eyes and he held her face a little harder, digging his fingers into the hinge of her jaw. "Aren't you?"

"Yes!" she squeaked, and he pressed a finger to her lips.

"No more people words for you today," he said. "Stupid little bun, Master said you could have one question. Can't even count, can you?"

Slowly, she shook her head. She still looked a bit uncertain, though, so he pulled out his cock and fed it into her mouth until she was trilling happily around it, her head filled with nothing but thoughts of cock, cock, cock.

Now, he pets her and tells her she's just a stupid kitty, yes she is, yes she is! She coos and meows, and when he slides two fingers over her pussy, he finds it drippy and messy with slick. "Always thinking with your cunt, aren't you, Bunbun?" he says. He sighs like he's so hard done by. "Okay, you can ride Master before I take you for walkies."

He spoils her, he knows that he does. But when she squeals and nuzzles and pushes him down onto the rug so she can hop onto his lap and immediately start bouncing on him, absolutely no comprehension that his cock is tucked away behind his pants and can't go into her, he can't bring himself to regret it.

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#pet pl@y #master/pet #bunnygirl

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losfacedevil · 1 year

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That’s Dad to you // S.F.K

a/n~ Dad thoughts have plagued me all week and then I saw a tiktok that just screamed Sammy as a dad and well here we are. Just some short silly sweet Dad Sammy thoughts.

Giggles erupted from the little girl as she took off running, her destination the side of the couch. He padded down the hallway behind her, a smile playing on his lips as he ran his hand back through his long hair. She eyed her father from where she crouched in front of the couch, quickly popping up to her feet with her hands up - finger splayed out in jazz hand formation.

“Sammy!” She yelled, throwing her head back in laughter as he pointed at her, his eyebrow raised.

“That’s Dada to you.” He chuckled, making his way over to the little girl.

“Sammy!” She jumped, bringing her full weight down onto the floor as shaking the coffee cup that sat on the table next to her.

“Dada.” He said, taking another step closer to her.

The little girls smile met her eyes as she scrunched up her face, turning to the pit bull that lay soundly asleep on the couch. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the pups ear before pointing a finger in her direction.

“Rosie.” She cooed, eyes meeting Sam’s as he sat on the floor in front of her, long legs bunched up as he tried to fit between the couch and coffee table.

“Yes that’s Rosie.” He confirmed, giving the dog a pat on the head before turning his attention back to his daughter.

She bent at the waist, one hand on her stomach as the other landed on Sam’s nose causing him to cross his eyes at her.

“Sam-my!” She called out, more giggles erupting from her. He shook his head, reaching out to squish her face between his large hands.

“Dad-dy! It’s not funny, Sis.” He protested, chuckling as he pushed on her little cheeks gently.

“Fishy!” She giggled, observing how her lips were sticking out.

You came around the corner wondering what all the commotion was about, eyes landing on your little family as they say squished between furniture on the living room floor.

“What are you doing to Daddy, Sis?” You called, taking a step closer as he pulled the little girl into his lap.

“Sammy!” She beamed, mimicking his earlier movements by pressing on his cheeks.

“Uh oh.” You chuckled, perching yourself on the arm of the couch as you watched your daughter tug on the ends of Sam’s hair.

“You’re not allowed to call me Sammy anymore, strictly Dada.” He chuckled, blowing a raspberry in his daughters direction as strands of hair stuck to his lips.

“I called you that once! It’s not my fault she took it and ran.” You protested, laying across the couch so you were eye level with your little girl.

“Dada.” You giggled pointing towards Sam as you ruffled your little girls hair. She gathered small fists full of Sam’s hair, holding it at the sides of his head as giggles spilled from her.

“Piggies daddy!” She exclaimed, shaking her head from side to side. He chuckled, sprinkling soft pecks all over her cheeks.

“Dada doesn’t want piggies right now, Sis.” She pushed her little bottom lip out in a pout, dropping his hair as she crossed her arms over her chest.

You reached over, smoothing your hand over her hair as she pouted. She tipped her head down, glaring at Sam through her lashes - thinking it made her seem intimidating. Sam chuckled, dancing his fingers over her torso, tickling the giggles right out of her.

“Maybe later, okay?” She shook her head, resting her knees against his thighs so she was eye level with him.

“Sammyyyy!” She screamed. Sam groaned, laying back on the floor all while holding his daughter up at arms length. Reaching over he plopped her belly first down on the couch.

“She is one thousand percent your daughter. She pulls the same things you pull on your brothers.” You giggled, pulling yourself into a seated position. Your little girl crawled over into your lap, curling up into a ball and she looked up at you with her big brown puppy eyes.

“I’m hungry, Mama.” Her little voice sounded strained, she knew she had both of you wrapped around her finger. You nudged Sam’s shoulder with your foot, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“It’s your turn to make lunch, Dada.” You said nodding in the direction of the kitchen.

Sam groaned as he pulled himself into a sitting position before standing to his full height. He stretched his body out after being cramped for so long before making his way to the kitchen to being preparing lunch.

#sam kiszka #dad sam kiszka #dad sam #sam gvf #greta van fleet #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka fanfiction

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bwoahtastic · 7 months

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Hahaha okay Dan waking up in the omega verse, panicking and instantly changing into a wolf and he gets sidetracked and is chasing his tail and staring at himself in the mirror and Max wakes up and is just like wtf is wrong with my mate but then Dan starts whining because he can't figure out how to change back

SKSKSKS

Big normally Alpha wolf Dan looking so silly now, all fluffed up and curly and his ears flopping over as he struggles to deal with 4 legs

Max waking up all confused ans changing in his wolf form seeing his Mate is in wolf form too and the little grey thing pads over to nuzzle Dan and try to calm the silly Alpha down

Max chaning back but Dan still isn't and he frowns realising his mate is stuck and tells him "think aboit being a human real hard" like he would tell a pup and luckily it helps lol!

Max is about to be spooked when he realises this isn't his mate and is right back in wolf form, puffed up like a cat and growling lol

#asks #alternate a/b/o

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starlight-shades · 8 months

Text

Called Home to the Depths of the Forest Ch. 9

• summary – Johnny gets arrested (x2)

• rating – M

• wordcount – 4.3k

• warnings – mentions of previous character deaths, corrupt cop

• This is my first fanfic, so please let me know if there's anything I forgot to tag. Feedback is welcome and encouraged

Read on Ao3

Ch. 1 Ch. 8 Ch 10.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He allowed the steady beat of the hammer to lull his mind into a sort of static.

Ghost wasn’t thinking about anything. No. That had been all he did last night instead of sleeping. Today, he was working. Today was for making Ailsa and Duncan feel safe again, for keeping them fed and safe and happy.

Price and Gaz had been a godsend in that regard. The gryphon had returned some time in the night and the two of them had helped him. There was no mention of Johnny. Simon didn’t ask.

Currently, Price was half-shifted with his wings out, and he and a fully shifted Gaz were tossing a squealing Ailsa through the air.

They were high enough off the ground that it made Simon nervous, but everyone involved had reassured him that no, no one was going to fall, and even if they did, it wasn’t high enough to hurt. He had only agreed after they dragged the extra mattress outside to serve as a landing pad. Duncan had made a game of being dropped onto it from the air only to bounce when he landed.

“My turn!” he announced. It made Simon smile. This game had been the first time he had noticed Duncan having so much fun that it brought him out of his shell. Even when he got excited about various insects to show Simon, he was quiet. He showed his emotion where his sister shouted hers.

“I want to keep going!” Ailsa protested.

“We’re taking turns, darling,” Price reprimanded gently as Gaz swooped down to scoop up Duncan. “How about you give the mattress a jump?”

“Fine!”

With the sounds of happy children in his periphery, Ghost continued to hammer away at the cabin extension. He had finished the foundation the week before, and now he was beginning to erect the frame of it.

When he was finished, there would be three additional rooms. They were all slightly larger than his own bedroom. He was still debating if he was going to add a second bathroom for when the pups were older. That might be a project to put off for a later date.

Besides, the one bathroom was working fine for the four of them. Or would it be three of them?

No. He was not thinking about it.

Something startled the shifters playing below him.

“Simon!” Ailsa yelled. “The phone!”

He chuckled. It was probably Laswell letting him know she was coming.

“Did you hear that from all the way out here?” Simon asked, smiling softly at her as he climbed down from where he was perched. Something twinged at the motion, reminding him that he got up to some vigorous activities the day before.

Both she and Duncan barreled over to him, clinging to his legs.

“I heard it too,” Duncan insisted, not one to be left out.

“What big ears you have,” he teased, picking him up and propping him on his hip while he ruffled Ailsa’s hair with his free hand.

“No, silly, it’s because we’re wolves,” she argued.

He could hear the ringing as he approached the door, moving swiftly so he could catch Kate before she got the answering machine he was half certain he had set up.

When he picked up the phone, he skipped the greeting and said “So when are you getting here?”

“Hey, Si…”

It was not Laswell.

Simon signed his name on the last of the forms as he waited for one of the uniformed officers to bring Johnny out.

Arrested. He scoffed. So that’s where he had been.

Before he left the house, he had finally asked Gaz about the night before.

“We ran together for a bit before he said he needed to be alone to sort some things out. I thought he was just gonna have a think, not do something stupid!” Gaz had said, defending himself against Price’s dour look.

“It’s Soap. You didn’t think he was going to do something stupid? When his pups and his… Simon are involved?”

He hadn’t stayed to hear the rest of the conversation.

The police station in town was small. He recognized most of the people working there even if he didn’t know them by name. They apparently knew him, though. And Johnny.

“Alright, Mr. Riley, Mr. MacTavish will be out in just a minute,” the receptionist said when he handed her the pile of completed forms.

He hadn’t introduced himself.

Tension crept its way into his shoulders, leaving them high and tight. He had to deliberately relax them to adopt the appearance of nonchalance. Didn’t want to draw any more attention than necessary.

Soon enough, Johnny appeared through the doorway that led deeper into the station. He looked disheveled, like he hadn’t slept. His hair, which was normally tousled, was unkempt with flyaways going in every direction. There were deep purple bags under his eyes. The button-down he had worn for their date was wrinkled worse than it had been when they got back to the cabin. There were some stains that he couldn’t identify sprayed across it as well. One that looked suspiciously like blood.

“Simon,” he breathed. The expression on his face was a cross between embarrassed and relieved.

Without saying anything, Ghost turned around and left the building, unsurprised when he heard footsteps behind him. They walked in silence to the car, but as soon as they were inside, it was broken.

“Si, I can explain—“ Johnny started.

“We moved too fast,” Ghost cut him off.

“What?”

He sounded confused. Simon couldn’t bring himself to look.

“We moved too fast,” he repeated. “It was irresponsible. We have Duncan and Ailsa to think about.”

“What are you saying?” There was a hitch in his voice. “If this is because of last night, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was uncalled for, I was just frustrated!”

“John.”

There was a pause before Johnny launched back into desperately trying to get him to understand. “I wasn’t going to do anything, I was just watching Collins! The bastard wouldn’t leave us alone, so I wanted to see how he liked it. He was at the pub, so I had a few drinks, I wasn’t even drunk!”

“You were arrested for drunk and disorderly!” he yelled, finally raising his voice. Calming slightly, he spoke again. “You were arrested, John, for being drunk and getting into a fight.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I can’t guarantee it won’t happen again because I will always defend my pack—“

“What am I supposed to say to the children? They heard the phone call, they know you were arrested. What kind of example are we supposed to set for them?” Ghost’s voice was low, serious.

“I’m sure they’ll understand if I explain—“

“They’ll understand what? That going out of their way to fight humans in public is okay? As long as they’re ‘protecting their pack?’ They’re five! Except now you’ve drawn more attention! You accuse me of not doing anything, but this is exactly what I was trying to avoid!”

“Si, will you just look at me?”

He turned the key in the ignition without acknowledging the question. The rumble of the engine as he pulled out of the parking lot was the only sound for several minutes.

“My priority is and always will be Duncan and Ailsa. The best way I know to keep them safe is to keep them away from everything. The less anyone knows about them, the better.”

“I’m sorry,” Johnny murmured. “Please look at me, Simon.”

“I shouldn’t have let my personal feelings compromise that,” Ghost continued, still ignoring Johnny.

“Please don’t do this,” he begged. Simon had never heard him sound so small.

“I still need your help with the children. They need to know how to be wolves. But you and I, we’re done.”

“Aye… okay…”

He allowed himself one small glance over at the passenger seat.

Johnny was leaned back into the headrest with his eyes closed, silent tears streaming down his face. He looked utterly exhausted.

They had nothing more to say to each other for the rest of the drive back to the cabin.

Simon refused to identify the pain he was feeling as heartbreak.

Duncan and Ailsa were still in their human-shape when they arrived home.

They eased the hurt in the way that children do so easily with their joy.

“Johnny!” Ailsa squealed, barreling past him to jump into Johnny’s arms.

He caught her easily, spinning her around once before setting her back on her feet.

“Hey there bonnie girl,” he chuckled. Simon could see his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

As Duncan came over, Simon scooped him up and propped him on his hip. The boy nuzzled his face into Simon’s neck before he turned to look at Johnny.

“Hi, Johnny. What’s arrested?”

So they were going to get right into it.

Simon raised a brow at Price and Gaz who gave him sheepish looks. When Johnny looked at him beseechingly, he just stared back.

“Uh, well. I broke the rules, so the police took me to jail for the night, like a time-out…” He stumbled his way through an explanation when it was clear he would not be getting any help from the other adults in the room.

“The mean man who keeps asking questions?” Ailsa asked, reaching up for Johnny to pick her up again.

“Yeah…” It was clear he didn’t know how to answer her.

Taking pity on him, Price spoke up.

“Ailsa, love, why don’t you show them the picture you did?”

She visibly brightened and squirmed her way out of Johnny’s arms, racing over to the kitchen table which was covered in crayons, colored pencils, and markers. Ailsa snatched up the open sketchbook on the table, and ran back. She paused before she showed them her drawing. Her gaze was trained on the floor in an unexpected display of shyness.

“Um, well, I drew us, our pack,” she explained, turning the sketchbook around so Simon and Johnny could see.

There, as little stick figures, were six shapes in the center of the page. There were two blobs in the middle with triangle shaped ears. One one side were two figures with wings, holding hands. They both had what appeared to be hats. On the other side were two more figures. One sort of squarish while the other was lankier with two triangles on the head.

“That one’s me,” Duncan said quietly, pointing to a vaguely wolf-shaped blob in the middle of the page.

“I could tell,” Johnny hummed. “This is very good, Ailsa. I like how you gave me my wolf ears.”

She giggled and blushed. “Simon’s not a wolf, so he has regular ears, see?” Her little finger pointed to the rather comically large ears she had put on the square figure with yellow hair.

“I like the faces you drew on the clouds,” Simon added.

Both Ailsa and Duncan’s smiles faded.

“That’s Mummy and Da. They’re up in the sky now,” she explained.

“I’m sure they’d love your drawing too, darling,” Simon told her, gathering her close and kissing the top of her head. “What do you say we put this up somewhere?”

She smiled again at that, nodding eagerly before running off to find the perfect spot.

“Did you do anything fun, Bug?” he asked, craning his neck to look at the child in his arms.

He gave him a secret sort of smile and nodded.

“Yeah? What did you do?” Johnny pushed gently.

“We read some books, didn’t we?” Gaz provided, coming close to ruffle Duncan’s hair. “We read ‘A Very Hungry Caterpillar,’ on account of the caterpillar.”

“I liked it,” Duncan whispered to Simon, “But I like when we read at bedtime better.”

“That’s cuz Gaz isn’t very good at reading,” Johnny mock-whispered, nudging Gaz with his elbow.

“Oi! I can read perfectly well, thank you very much!” he protested, shoving Johnny right back.

“Well tell that to the five-year-old who says Si is better,” he laughed, looking up and meeting Simon’s eyes before his grin fell away.

They stared at each other for a moment, letting all the what-ifs sink into the space between them. The children looked at one, then the other. The silence was definitely awkward.

He cleared his throat and set Duncan back on his feet.

“I’ll uh, get started on dinner,” he muttered, escaping to the kitchen.

“Si…” Johnny started, but Ghost just brushed past him.

It’s quieter in the kitchen. Price and Gaz stay out with the pups and Johnny in the living room.

Simon goes through the motions, ignoring every echo of a memory when he does something that Johnny taught him. It helps that he’s making so much more food than usual. Though it’s not the first time Gaz and Price have stayed for dinner, and he’s grateful that by now he’s mostly figured out the right amount to make.

There’s a lull when he sticks the roast in the oven. He’s not entirely sure what to do with himself. He can hear Ailsa laughing in the other room, and after a moment Duncan’s quieter giggles, but he’s deliberately got his back turned.

When a hand touches his shoulder, he startles, whipping around and twisting the offending arm backwards.

“Just me!” Price announces a moment too late. He winces when Simon let’s go of his arm.

“Sorry.”

“No, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you,” he said, shaking his hand out. “You’ve got good reflexes there.”

He grunted, moving towards the cabinet where he kept the liquor. This seemed like the evening to have a drink. Simon looked back at where Price had settled back against the counter and held up the bottle of whiskey in a silent offer.

“Yeah, I could do with a glass.”

Between them, the only sound was from the ice clinking in the glasses and the slosh of alcohol. Wordlessly, Price accepted the tumbler from Simon. They stood on opposite sides of the kitchen, sipping at their drinks while waiting for the other to be the first to break the silence.

With a sigh, Simon decided it would have to be him. He didn’t have the energy to beat around the bush.

“Is this where you tell me to give him another chance?” Simon gave him a droll look.

“No,” Price admitted, surprising him. “I wanted to make sure you knew that no matter what happens with you and Soap, Gaz and I’ll always be here for you and the little ones. You’re pack now.”

“Oh,” he breathed, letting his shoulders fall back. “Thanks.”

“I will say one thing on Soap, though.”

Simon tossed back the rest of his glass in one go, letting the burn of the liquor brace him.

“John’s a good man. Can be an idiot, but the boy’s as loyal as they come. I hope he does right by you, Simon.”

He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. The burn behind his eyes was from the liquor, not tears, he told himself. When Price took his drink and left the kitchen, he was nothing but grateful.

“Why don’t we go outside for a bit? I bet I could find a few flames in me,” he heard him say, gathering everyone so Simon could be alone.

So he could cry in peace.

That’s the thing that got him. No matter how many times he was reminded that it was the people he trusted who could hurt him the most, it still hurt when he pushed them away. He couldn’t win.

Simon sank to the floor, clutching his empty glass to his chest and let silent sobs wrack his body.

He would do it again, he told himself. No price was too high to keep those children safe. Even his own broken heart.

The next few days were awkward. Simon and Johnny no longer shared the bed with the pups. It was one or the other again. If it wasn’t about Duncan and Ailsa and their care, they didn’t speak to each other. When it was the two of them alone in a room, Simon quickly left.

There were a few times when Johnny had tried to speak to him, but Simon shut him down every time.

Duncan was the first to pick up that something was very different. He sat on the ground, watching Simon measure out where the door should go from the main cabin into the extension.

“Simon?”

“Yeah, Bug?”

“Are you mad at Johnny?”

Oh.

He sighed. “Um, yeah. I’m not very happy with him right now.”

“Oh.”

Simon looked back at Duncan who was quietly shredding a blade of grass. When he felt Simon’s gaze on him, he paused and looked up.

“Are you mad at me?”

He immediately dropped the measuring tape and got to his knees, gathering the boy in his arms. Duncan very quickly settled into his favorite position with his face tucked in Simon’s neck.

“Oh no, Bug, I’m not mad at you. Whatever happens between me and Johnny will never change how I feel about you.” He stroked Duncan’s hair, pushing some of the longer pieces out of his face. “Okay?”

The boy nodded.

Ailsa was less tactful in her questioning. Simon was sitting with her as she drew in her sketchbook.

“Does this mean you and Johnny aren’t married anymore?”

He choked on his saliva, coughing a few times.

“Umm, no,” he started. “Johnny and I were never married.”

That confused her. She paused what she was doing, her face scrunching up in an expression he should not find as cute as he did.

“But you live together. And you smell is all mixed up together like Mummy and Da’s.”

“Yes, but he moved in when you and Duncan started living here,” he tried to explain, choosing to ignore the comment about their smell. Sometimes he forgot about the heightened senses. Simon didn’t believe in lying to children, but he also wasn’t sure how much to tell her.

“Where did he live before?”

“With Price and Gaz.”

“But Price and Gaz are married. Does that mean Johnny was married to them?”

He had to stop himself from chuckling. “No, love. Just because adults live together doesn’t mean they’re married.”

“Oh.”

She then went right back to her coloring, leaving Simon feeling like he just went a round in a boxing ring.

When the time came for Simon to go down to the police station for his appointment with D.C. Collins, things were still very strained.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” he said as he shrugged on his jacket.

Johnny nodded. He had the look of a kicked puppy these days. Simon found it distracting.

“If the phone rings while I’m gone, it’s probably Laswell. She should be coming any day. You can tell her where I am. If it’s anyone else, take down their information then hang up.”

“Aye.”

Simon ducked down to kiss each of the pups goodbye. They were in their wolf-shape today.

“Be good. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

The drive to the station was uneventful and soon enough he found himself in front of one of the more unpleasant people he had ever met.

“D.C. Collins interviewing Mister Simon Riley,” Collins spoke into the machine recording their conversation.

They sat in an interrogation room. The chairs were uncomfortable. Stainless steel. So was the table they sat at.

As Collins flipped through the file in front of him, Simon glanced at the metal ring welded to the table. It was used to thread handcuffs to to keep subjects’ hands visible. His eyes flicked around the room. There was a disturbing amount of familiarity to it. Ghost catalogued every item he could see, picturing in his head how he would use it to break Collins.

“Simon Riley, age forty-three. Single it says on your taxes.” Collins looked up at him as if to confirm.

He nodded. Ghost was very familiar with the file on the table and all the lies it was filled with. It was blank in a lot of places too. It had been a rush job when he retired. He hadn’t wanted to spend too much time on it.

“If you could speak your answers out loud for the recording,” he said, sounding annoyed.

So there was no video. Good information to have.

“I’m not married.”

Collins nodded. “There’s very little in your file on your background. No work history.” His eyes narrowed.

Ghost shrugged. “Should I be flattered you’ve spent so much time looking into me?”

“How long have you lived in the area?”

“Six years or so.”

“And where were you before that?” he pushed.

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

Collins barked out something that resembled a laugh. “You’re not at liberty to say…” he repeated. “Well can you tell me where you were on March 14th?”

Ghost settled back in his seat. This man was an amateur. “As I said before, I don’t keep a diary.”

Collins mirrored him, leaning back. “So you don’t have an alibi.”

He didn’t say anything, just waited for him to get to his next question.

“Your file says here you’re an only child—”

While he knew it was in there, Simon did not expect the pit in his gut at the words.

“So you’re unfamiliar with the bond between brothers,” Collins continued, his voice hard and low. “Let me educate you, Mr. Riley. My brother and I? We were as thick as thieves. He was my best friend. Jeff would do anything for me, and I would do anything for him. So when he didn’t call like he said he would, I was surprised. He was supposed to come back from his trip and see me on his way home. But as I’m sure you’re aware, he never did.”

He whipped out a second folder, slapping three photos on the table, one of each of the hunters. Collins tapped so hard on the first one that it was a wonder he didn’t break his own finger.

“So you look at these men, and you tell me again you don’t know where you were on March 14th.”

Ghost had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Like I said, I couldn’t tell you.”

The other man did his best to stare him down.

He leaned forward, and tried a different line of questioning.

“What is your relationship to the children in your care?”

“They’re under my guardianship.” Simon hoped Laswell had gotten all the paperwork properly filed in time.

“You’ve adopted them?”

“It’s in the works.”

“How did they come into your care?” Collins was far too curious about the children.

“I’m not sure how this is relevant, Detective Constable.”

“Humor me.”

“I don’t think I will. If you’d like to continue this conversation, I will require my legal counsel be present.”

“Hmmm,” Collins hummed, staring him down.

When Ghost didn’t budge, he glanced down at his watch. Whatever he saw had him smirking. Simon did not like that.

“Interview concluded,” Collins said into the recording device before shutting it off. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Riley.”

The smile on his face left Simon feeling uneasy.

As he was escorted to the lobby of the police station, the sinking feeling in his gut plummeted even further.

“Simon!”

“Johnny!”

What was he doing here? Why was he in handcuffs? Where were they taking him?

“They let me call Price and Gaz. They’re on their way to the cabin for the pups,” he called, tugging his wrists away from the officer leading him towards the back.

“Don’t say anything, Johnny, I’ll get you out!”

Despite being rather roughly hauled away in handcuffs, the look on Johnny’s face had been rather soft when he looked at Simon.

He hurried over to the receptionist’s desk.

“Is there a phone I could use?”

She directed him over to a phone that was hooked up off to the side. Quickly, he plugged in the number for his own landline.

He cursed as he heard it ringing. Again and again. Just when he thought no one would pick up, he was answered.

“Hello?”

“Gaz,” he breathed. “They’ve just brought Johnny in in cuffs.”

“Shit. Me and Price are with the little ones, but we have a guest staying over, and she insisted on coming. I’m sorry, Simon, we didn’t have time to stop her,” he rushed out.

“Do you trust her?” His knuckles were white where he gripped the phone.

“I—“ Gaz was cut off.

“Simon Riley.”

His breath rushed from him in utter relief. “Kate.”

“We’re on our way. Stay put. See if you can get in to see John.”

He exhaled. There was a mission now. He could focus on that.

Hanging up the phone, he turned back to the receptionist. He should really ask her name at this point considering he had spent so much time with her that week.

“What’s the process for getting in to see someone in custody?” he asked without preamble. Simon didn’t quite have it in him to be charming at the moment.

“Well, um, visiting hours will be over by the time Mr. MacTavish is processed, so you’d have to wait for tomorrow,” she explained.

“Is there any way I could see him today?”

She pursed her lips. “Well not unless you commit a crime yourself,” she laughed nervously, glancing back in the direction the officer had taken Johnny.

“Okay, thank you,” he said. Simon wouldn’t take his frustration out on her, it wasn’t her fault.

Looking around, he tried to find something he could use. There was a glass paperweight on the receptionist’s desk. He grabbed it.

“Does this have any sentimental value?” Ghost asked her.

“Well, no, but—“

Before she could finish protesting, he threw it as hard as he could to the ground. It shattered, sending glass flying everywhere.

A uniformed policewoman came running to the front looking rather frazzled.

“What happened?”

Ghost raised his hand. “That counts as destruction of property, right?”

#soapghost #fic #my writing #cod fic #ghostsoap #werewolf soap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley

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