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#and you apparently just don’t know. how to use ao3
ncteez · 9 months
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Drippin’ [Dream ‘00 line] 
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“It's too late to run away, you started this game first.”
It was a joke, you swear. Sharing something like that with your group of horny man-friends was definitely a recipe for disaster. That one little tweet sets off a string of events that prevents you from pretending that you wouldn’t fuck your friends. Because you would, and they know it.  or the one where you’re considered a tease with the shit you share privately online, and they’re just about fed up with the way you act innocent and uninterested in what they’re packing.  ― this fic is based around this tweet.
ao3 | m.list | leave feedback and reblog to give ‘00 line a boner. 
minors do not interact. 
WORDCOUNT― 16.2k 
PAIRING― ‘00 line x afab reader
CONTENT― birthday sex, orgy (?), comedy, use of a camera
WARNING ― mild dub-con, jaemin kinda fruity, full bladder/squirting ―this fic is not entirely inclusive like my others because it’s written for someone specific. reader can be lifted up by the members, when she blushes it is visible to them but colors still aren’t used to describe it, she has huge tits too. don’t like it, don’t read it. 
NOTE―  this is my birthday gift to @neopuppy! I hope it scratches somewhere in your brain but I also hope this means you’re aware of how much I love and appreciate you!! I am happy to have met you and i just need you to know that you’re definitely stuck with me at this point ♡ so, happy birthday to jeno’s real life gf!!! he’s a lucky dude fr. ― not proof read tho lmao
smut tags under cut:: 
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smut tags :: pussy eating, eager haechan, neglected renjun, confident jeno, (un)solicited dick pics, huge cock jeno and renjun, recording of sexual acts, masturbation, tongue fucking, dirty talk, finger fucking, overstimulation, tit fondling, actual fucking, (forced) full bladder, squirting, blowjob, handjob, unprotected sex, cum eating, cum stuffing, cum dump reader, bunch of horny guys + one competitive horny guy 
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~
Scrolling on twitter is a normal part of your night especially when you’re bored. Your birthday is coming up and there’s not really anything planned. Aside from the spamming of messages from family and friends demanding to know what you want, or what you’d like to do, it feels like it’s just going to be a normal day rather than a celebration of your life.
No plans. You kind of just want to enjoy the day alone, relaxing, watching stupid videos, and maybe going for a coffee. 
Unknowing to you though, your future plan is slightly skewed when you run across a specific tweet. You share it as a joke, just like any other thing you’ve shared. Straight into the circle it goes, side eye emoji and all as if to imply something yet again, because you’re good at that apparently. Teasing, as Haechan would call it. 
To you, retweeting it with the side-eye emoji directly into the circle is normal and not asking for it to be considered by your friends. As much as you’d love to lie to yourself and believe that they’re down to earth, they’re really really not.
It’s not like you actively want to fuck your friends, but it’s also not like you wouldn’t. With all of the sexuality you all share online, it’s kind of difficult to not think about them inappropriately on some days. There was once a tweet that Jeno shared with absolutely no context involving some manga panel drawing of a man on a leash with his cute, unassuming girl standing in front of him. 
You hate to say that sometimes the images they share makes you think pretty hard. Learning their kinks, their sexual interests, and wondering if they’ve ever gotten to actually partake in them before. It’s a strange kind of feeling to think about your friends when these types of images pop up. The feeling is definitely arousal, but it’s kind of like a guilty arousal? 
After all, your friends may be constantly sharing their sex lives and blatantly liking all of the porn on twitter that they get off to, but it doesn’t mean they’d want to get you off. 
The funniest part about it is that you truly do view the circle tweets far differently compared to your group of friends. You, thinking they share stuff to show off, to be funny, or just to be a typical horny man. Then you have your friends and how they view it. 
Some of the tweets are intentionally for you to see, for you to get off to. Some are blatantly shared in the heat of the moment as one of them imagines you performing in the content. It’s a game to them really, to see which one will break you first. They love it for the most part, how you pretend you don’t notice. How you play dumb, even when they’re sharing images and videos of two people that could resemble you and said friend if you squint. It’s been this way for years. 
The entire friend group has spoken about you in their own group chat before. They’ve fantasized together about you through text and they’ve even discussed how there’s no way you don’t know what they’re doing. Time and time again you prove them wrong. So fucking aloof even when one of them blatantly makes a suggestion straight to your face. 
Jokes can only be funny for so long before it starts to be serious. 
To Jeno, it’s flooring to see you just a day after you liked one of his nastiest tweets, knowing you saw it, you probably watched the video too all while parading around like it didn’t get you wet or something. For Renjun, he finds it cute that you’re so different online. He almost feels lucky to be able to see that side of you. 
Haechan and Jaemin are the two in the group who will blatantly try to fluster you face to face. You both love and hate it, because sometimes you can’t tell if they’re being serious or not with you. The constant sarcastic and cocky smirks tend to make you lean more towards the fact that they must be joking. 
Either way, that tweet is nothing more than a funny joke to you. Since it was referring to a birthday it really is probably a crime to like, not share it. So, you did. 
Haechan was the first to read it, instantly screenshotting it and sending it in the secret group chat with a question mark. 
Haechan: ??
Haechan: she’s doing it again 
Jeno: she’s too dumb to actually follow through with it though
Jaemin: me first :)
Haechan: shut the fuck up jaemin
Renjun: it’s just a meme 
Haechan: a meme about eating her out for her birthday
Haechan: that she specifically shared to her circle
Haechan: with. the. eyeball. emoji. 
Jeno: he’s got a point. 
Renjun: well
Jaemin: it would be rude if she declined a birthday gift too y’know 
Haechan: do you guys think she would let us?
Renjun: um
Jeno: at some point she’s gonna have to learn that sharing all of this stuff with us is going to end in her getting fucked. 
Haechan: yeah, by me specifically
Jeno: you’d be lucky if she even thought of you when she shared that tweet
Haechan: It's gonna be so funny when you hear her moan my name, you gonna get mad?
Jeno: fuck around and find out.
Jaemin: really though
Jaemin: we should just go for it this time…….
Jaemin: bet she would love it
Renjun: lol…count me in too 
~
The last thing you expected to be waking up to on your birthday was a fucking birthday party. 
You wake to the sound of your front door opening, frantic footsteps, and then your bedroom door swinging open. Before you can even scream out of the assumption that it’s a fucking break in, Haechan is quite literally pouncing on you, shoving his face into the crook of your neck with muffled words of “wake up, baby.” 
You’re definitely awake. 
“How the fuck did you guys get into my house?!” You shout with a raspy, sleep filled voice, trying to focus on the four faces staring back at you and landing a glare at Renjun specifically, standing meekly at your bedroom door. 
He shoots an uncharacteristic smirk at you before raising his keys and dangling them at you. Of course you forgot that he had a key. He’s the only person outside of your family who has a key and it was strictly from when he helped you move in. You forgot to get it back from him all those years ago.
“Might want to change your locks.” Haechan laughs against your neck, lying his body weight against you. 
“What time is it?” You say, relieved now that your place isn’t being broken into, but still trying to shove Haechan off of you. 
He fights to stay in place, grabbing you in a bear hug, holding your arms down at your side, and not letting you go. 
“It’s noon.” Jeno calls out from the other side of your room in a nonchalant voice, letting his eyes search around before he opens one of your drawers. “What’s in here?”
You, again, try to shake Haechan from you as you go into panic mode. What kind of joke is this? Fucking room raiders? 
“Stop looking through my stuff!” You shout, glaring at Jeno, who definitely goes through your drawers now that he knows you have something to hide. 
“Haechan, hold her down,” Jeno laughs, opening another drawer, and then another, before coming to your bedside and looking at you. “What’s in this one?”
Actual panic now.
Before you can even get the words out, Jeno is opening the drawer and letting out a breathy chuckle. 
“Guys, look.” He laughs, glancing over at you before pulling one of the toys out. “You get off with this?” 
Jaemin comes over, looking into the drawer with two other toys that Jeno hasn’t yet pulled from their place. Renjun continues to watch, or stalk, really. 
“Did you wash them?” Jeno asks, waving the dildo in front of your face before bopping you on the nose with it. 
“Of course I fucking washed them!” You continue to glare, feeling Haechan squeeze you tighter to prevent you from moving. 
“Shame,” Haechan laughs at you, and then he very slowly lightens his grip on you. “Wanted to know what you smell like.” He says in a single breath, looking between you and the dildo, in deep thought. You stare at him before taking advantage of his loosening grip and rolling him off of you in one swift motion. 
You ignore the “oomf” sound Haechan makes when his head hits your headboard, and instantly rip the dildo from Jeno’s hands before throwing it back into the drawer and nearly slamming Jaemin’s fingers shut in it. 
“What the fuck are you guys doing?” You narrow your eyes as you look at each of them. You feel annoyed, and quite frankly, a little pissed because this is kind of crossing a line you didn’t even know you had. 
“It’s your birthday,” Renjun smiles, moving himself from the door and finally coming into your room. “You’re not seriously planning to just, like, stay home all day are you?”
“Yeah, actually. I am.” You grouch, rolling your eyes as you sit up and against your headboard with crossed arms. 
“That’s too bad, we’ve got a whole day planned for you.” Jeno says, seating himself next to you and softening his voice. “So get up and go get dressed.” 
If it weren’t for the fact that all four men are practically holding you hostage right now, you’d kick them out and enjoy your birthday as you planned it. Why is this year so fucking different? Why are they all over you like this? Poking fun at your toys, Haechan being weird and gross about it? 
As you get dressed, they make it incredibly obvious that there’s a shift in the air. You feel like prey, four pairs of eyes struggling to allow you to dress yourself without them in the room. You do eventually get them out though, so you can at least do as they say. 
When you open the door for them again, they’re all right there. Jeno, front and fucking center with his dopey smile that seems more menacing today than the usual, soft smile. 
You feel cornered in your own home, by the only people you trust, and you hate to say that it’s kind of getting to you in an uncomfortable way. It’s surprising to admit that you kind of like the uncomfortable feeling they’re giving to you right now.
The sheer amount of attention on you is overwhelming, and you wonder when they’ll let you in on this joke. 
~
The second you step into Jeno’s car, then tension dies down a little bit and the excitement rises. You haven’t done anything for your birthday in years so it’s kind of nice to think that your friends would plan something for you, and not being alone in your apartment with them solidified that they’re not about to eat you alive with a side of A1 steak sauce like you originally thought. 
As the drive starts and continues, you think about the dynamic between you and your friends. From how you met to how you became the group you are now. You realize that for the past few years, most interactions with them have felt more intense than they used to. Still, you’re a believer that women can be friends with men without the weird sexual tension ruining it. 
Until you keep thinking. Piling up all of the sexual jokes and implications they’ve made at you up until this morning.
One time, Jaemin took a photo with you, sent it in the group chat and said “she’s giving out blowjobs for $5 if anyone wants one.” and you’d be lying if you didn’t receive three cash app notifications of five dollars. 
Another time Jeno blatantly gave you a popsicle and told you to show him how deep you can take it in your mouth before laughing and shoving the popsicle deeper when you reached your limit. And god, don’t even get started on Haechan, that motherfucker has blatantly adjusted his length in front of you after staring at your chest for an entire conversation. 
Renjun is another story. The shy one who does a shit job at hiding that he absolutely has whore thoughts. You see it. That $5 donation for a blowjob didn’t go unnoticed, nor did his approval of you accidentally liking one of the porn videos deep in his retweets.
Still, you prefer to think that you wave off the jokes face to face despite how difficult it’s become to dodge said jokes. 
You turn to look at Jeno for a moment, noting his calm face as he drives, then you turn slightly to see the three in the back seat on their phones. Jeno’s phone is buzzing at lightning speed, and the boys in the back are typing miles per minute. 
You narrow your eyes. 
“What are you guys planning?” 
Jeno flashes a smile at you. 
“It’s a surprise, don’t try and ruin it for yourself.” He smiles wider at the implication that you really do always ruin this type of thing by pretending you don’t want it. That you don’t want him. 
You continue to glare at them, one at a time, and each of them just beams at you before you cross your arms and slump yourself back against the seat. 
“Better not be anything weird.” You grumble. 
“Define weird.” Jeno comments before moving his hand from the steering wheel and lying it against your leg. When you stiffen up against him, he rubs a gentle circle against the flesh of your thigh before continuing. “Relax, we already know you’re a freak.”
You whip your head around at the laughter, feeling flustered at how they’re not keeping the circle in the circle. Except, they are. It’s just being voiced now, and your leg is being caressed at the same damn time. 
“My favorite was when she shared that video of the girl getting her head pulled back by the hair, and dude spit in her face,” Jaemin says with a shrug, eyes still glued to his phone. “Went straight to the bookmarks.” 
You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and when you go to protest, Haechan jumps in. 
“What about the video where the girl took it in every hole? She even had a dildo because apparently she just wasn’t full enough.” He ticks his tongue when he says it, examining the way you shift in your seat. 
“Oh god, I remember that one. I didn’t think you’d be into that–” Renjun laughs, leaning forward between the front and passenger seat. “But you are into that, aren’t you?” He lowers his voice when he asks you.
You shift again, and note only slightly the way Jeno also shifts similar to the way you do at those words. 
“It’s just a video–” You try to defend, but Jeno speaks up and cuts you off.
“Did you get off to it?” He asks blatantly, turning the car onto a wide street and seemingly keeping his eyes on the road. 
There’s nothing but silence in the car and all four of them wait for your answer, but it never comes. 
“So you did.” Renjun chuckles, leaning himself back to the seat and unlocking his phone again. 
You’re kind of at a loss for words at this moment as you stare directly out of your window and try to avoid continuing the conversation. You hate the way your body is reacting to the way they’re talking to you. Of course you got off to the video. Of course you’re into that. It just looks bad when you’re sitting in a car full of men with cocks that seemingly want to talk about how much you’re into it. 
Implications. 
And god, the implication gets worse when you realize where Jeno has been driving this whole time. You can’t even protest either.
“Let’s get our girl some better toys to have fun with.” Jeno comments as he stops the car in the parking lot, turning to look at you and then at his friends as if this is the most normal birthday outing in the world. 
“Your girl?” You ask, side eyeing Jeno and then turning your entire body to look at the other three men in the car.
Suddenly, it feels like an intro to some porn video. Where the poor lonely woman is being eaten alive with eyes in a public space before it pans to her quite literally drowning in a bukakke scene. 
“Just for today, relax.” Jaemin smiles his stupid smile, shoving Haechan at the door of the car as if to force him to open it, and he does. “Besides, the toys you had seemed boring.” He laughs again, before sliding out of the car as well.
So, here you are now, walking into an adult store with four very attractive men, unsure as to why you’re even agreeing to let them bring you here. You don’t know what to do with yourself seeing as you’ve only ever bought toys online. 
 Jeno is the first to drag you away with him as the others disperse around the store. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel awkward, or like today isn’t entirely charged by sexual energy. Unfortunately, Jeno amplifies it with a casual voice and a slouched, relaxed posture as he snakes an arm around your waist and lifts your chin with his thumb so that you look directly at what he’s looking at. 
He barely lets you react to the way he’s being somewhat intimate with you, ushering any protest you could possibly have into a little insecure space in your brain. One that tells you that, based on how he’s acting, he would probably call you stupid if you said he was acting weird. 
Jeno knows damn well though, that he’s touching you right now more than he ever has. Brief hugs and brushes of the body are normal and expected, but this? This is intentionally not normal. He knows you’re picking up on the differences, and actively chooses to let you stew over it. He can see the confusion in your eyes and plays it off as if, yeah, this is normal and you’d make it weird if you decided to say it’s not. You’d be the one making it awkward, not him. 
“How do you feel about that?” He asks, eyes staring straight at an item hanging on the wall and pretending he doesn’t feel the way you let him touch you in the way a boyfriend should. 
“What? The vibrating panties?” You ask, looking at the item directly next to it. 
“Oh,” He chuckles at you, releasing your chin and pulling down the product with ease. “You’re looking at these?” He adds, keeping his other arm around your waist and pulling you right up against his side as he flips the box over and reads it. 
“Eight settings. Three pairs of panties are included–” He nods with a pleased face. “What are you looking at these for?”
You looked at them because it’s what you thought he was looking at too. 
“You gonna wear them to work? Staying wet all day in them?” He smiles, saying these words as if it’s not sexual at all. “I bet you’d wear them in front of me too. Wouldn’t even tell me how you’re getting off, would you?”
He loves the way you react when you’re flustered, looking away from him but not quite denying it or pulling from his grasp. 
“Dirty. I’ll buy them for you. ” He says, keeping hold of the box and reaching for the actual item he was originally looking at. “What about this?” 
You feel like your body is on fire with this one sided conversation. Honestly, your mind is still thinking about what would happen if you wore these panties to work. What would happen if you did wear them when hanging out with him? Surely he’d know, it’s not like you’re capable of hiding your pleasure. 
Still, you try to remain calm. Rubbing your legs together briefly, you stare at the way he tangles a leash in his fingers all while still holding the box with the vibrating panties. His hands are big, and his fingers are long. The material of the leash appears to be flimsy but the collar he grabs just next to it appears to be much stiffer. 
“A leash?” You ask, still not making eye contact but keeping your eyes on his hand and the way he holds all three items with ease.
“And a collar.” He adds, encouraging you to think about both items together, being used with him. 
“What am I supposed to do with that?” 
Jeno smirks, knowing damn well you know what he’s into. 
“You know exactly what you’re supposed to do with it.” He teases you, keeping hold of the toys and letting his eyes devour the way you buckle under every implication. He tunes in to the way your legs rub together, right here in front of him. God, you’re so cute with the way even the slightest implication seems to have you suffering. 
In your head, you do know what to do with these items for him, but the confirmation of Jeno’s words have reality hitting you like a bag of bricks. Is he really implying that these toys are to be used with him? 
And just as you try to mutter up a response, you can feel your arm being tugged at.
“Stop hogging her, dick.” Jaemin seethes through his teeth and narrowed eyes at Jeno, prying you away from him.
You look back at Jeno and his confident glare at you as you’re being pulled away. He seems slightly annoyed with Jaemin for taking you away just as the conversation was getting good but, overall proud of himself for making you think too hard. You practically see the confirmation in his hooded eyes when they trail down your body as you’re being pulled around the corner, up until he’s out of your view and you are forced to look at whatever the fuck Jaemin is trying to show you. 
“Look at this.” Jaemin says in a much sweeter voice to you, grabbing a box and presenting it to you. “There’s a sample thing too, hold on–” He continues, reaching up and grabbing the presumed sample that states “FINGERS ONLY.”
“Go on, try it.” He smiles, eyes staring straight at your hands. 
“You want me to test out a uh–”
“Pocket pussy.” He finishes for you, nodding his head and encouraging you to do it. 
Reluctantly you do, sliding your fingers into the silicone hole. Weirdly enough, you’ve always wondered what the inside of a pocket pussy felt like and well, it’s about what you expected. 
Jaemin’s intense eye contact on watching your fingers slide into that toy did not go unnoticed though. You can see the way they darken at the act in an instant. A once bright looking pervert now matching the word far too much to be comfortable doing this in front of him. If only you knew how he was imagining that this is how you touch yourself. Reluctantly at first and then sliding your fingers in deeper to feel everything it offers. 
“Well?” He asks, feeling his length twitch in his pants at the image. Wondering how much prettier your fingers would look glistening in the arousal that would spill out of you while doing this. “Do you think yours feels better?”
“Wha–” You go to ask, pulling your fingers from the sample and shoving it back into his hands. 
“You heard me,” He laughs as he drops the sample onto the floor and quickly picks it up before tossing it back onto the wrong shelf like an asshole. “Compare it. Give me something to work with here.” 
You dead-pan stare at him, processing the fact that he’s literally asking you what your pussy feels like.
“It’s, um–” You stop yourself again, not avoiding Jaemin’s eye contact this time as his smile fades into something a bit more serious. 
“Not as warm, right?” He asks, “not as wet?” 
Then he leans in to the point that you feel his breath below your ear, blowing gently as he continues his string of questions. 
“Not as tight–” He pulls back to look at you. “Hm?”
It’s insane how fast your little friend group seems to have switched on you. When you compare yesterday to today, the last thing you could imagine was Jaemin saying such a thing against your skin before pulling back, and looking at you with a face that seems to expect a genuine answer to his dirty questions. 
You’ve never felt so….shy before yet, into it entirely. You just don’t know how to process it all happening at once, with multiple people. Jeno, now Jaemin? 
You stare forward at him, cheeks warming up beyond belief as your fingers tingle from the recent silicone hole they fucked into. You think hard for a moment about all of the times you’ve plunged your fingers into yourself, comparing the feeling to the toy. You almost want to tell him that you’re definitely warmer, you’d definitely be wetter, and perhaps even tighter than that toy could ever offer him. 
And just as you were about to become the pick me girl of his dreams, an angel wearing a dick-head costume (Haechan), appears much like Jaemin did before. He prevents you from furthering the conversation, but he does little to nothing to help the warmth you’re feeling between your legs. 
“Stop being a freak,” Haechan stares at Jaemin, having heard the entire conversation and definitely liking where it was going, but also not wanting Jaemin to be the one to get you to break. “Come on, I have something a lot less weird to show you.”
Haechan drags you across the entire store before you can even protest, nearing the entrance. You almost want to get on your knees and thank him, assuming he’s walking you straight out the doors to safety before you realize he’s definitely not. 
“Lace or latex?” He asks, grabbing two skimpy outfits he presumably placed on the end of a rack for easy finding when he wanted to show you. 
“Lace.” You say without issue, still reeling from all of the other questions you’ve been asked within the past twenty minutes. Plus, clothing is much easier to discuss compared to things that fuck your friends, and things that fuck you. 
“Hm,” He stares down the lace outfit on the hanger, knowing for a fact that your tits would look fucking immaculate in it. Surely they’d be bulging out of the top, plush and bouncing with each movement. “If we got this for you, would you actually wear it?”
At this point, the feeling in your gut may or may not be matching the energy they’re giving you. There’s a hint of flirtiness coming to your mind now as you think of how to respond. You’ve flirted with them plenty, so it comes easy this time when you manage to actually answer him. 
“I guess,” You start, noting how his eyes light up. “I don’t see why not, because I do like lace.”
“Would you wear it for me though?” He corrects his question, proud of the way you look a bit confident now, not at all as flustered as you seemed when Jaemin had you back there finger fucking a sample toy.
“In front of you?” You ask, staring down the outfit and reaching out to feel the soft texture of the lace, trying to ignore the hefty price on the tag. 
“Yeah? I expect to be the one to take it off of you.” 
There goes your confidence. He’s so forward and you’re not sure if you can ever get used to such jarring comments toward you by the people you seem to be the closest to. They could talk to you like this all fucking day, and while you’d like it, your first instinct is to buckle, to hide. 
“So quiet now. Why? Because I want to see you in this?” He smirks, rubbing his fingers in circles against the lace before hardening his expression. 
“You can pretend that this isn’t happening all you want,” He narrows his eyes at you and the way you avoid his eye contact, taking a step forward and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I think you’ve gotten your fair share of teasing me online. I think it’s time you finally give it up.” He finishes his train of thought with a frustrated whisper when you pull away from him slightly. 
It’s a lot of information to take in all at once. Jeno implying things, Jaemin asking about what’s between your legs, and now Haechan stating that he wants to see you in lace before sliding it off of you. It’s not entirely insane to be drawn in and then push yourself back. Really, it’s not. You can’t just let them in on the fact that you’re into it though. All of this, you’re so fucking into it.
“You thought I was teasing you?” You ask, finally making eye contact as you look him up and down, taking another step back. “Haechan, it’s just porn. None of it was because of you.”
He tics his tongue at your words, smirking and shaking his head. 
“You’re going to stand there and pretend like you don’t think about it?” He tilts his head knowingly before shaking the lace outfit in front of you. “If we leave here today with this, you’re going to wear it for me.” he continues with a cheeky voice, “and i’ll make you feel so good when I take it off of you.”
And for some reason, you find yourself turning away from him and walking away. You can hear him mutter something at you as you create a bigger distance, and can’t help the smile on your face. Your cheeks are tingling, your body is tingling and there’s a type of confirmation happening right now, that all of those thoughts you’ve had about them before aren’t entirely one sided. 
You find yourself in search of Renjun, the only normal motherfucker in this group. He hasn’t hunted you down within the aisles of toys, sex movies, or lube. He hasn’t pulled you away as if he’s a savior before forcing you to realize you fell into the grasp of another hunter. No, he’s normal. And he fills that role so well too, as you find him near the back of the store standing alone, looking at the most mundane and boring sex toys in the world. Dildos, just like what he saw being pulled out of your drawer this morning. 
“Do you think this one is a good size?” He asks you offhandedly as you stand next to him with a sigh of relief. Almost like he could sense it was you without even checking for himself.
“Yeah, it’s a little big but–” You go to say, comfortably and confidently because he’s not being a weirdo.
“Have you ever taken something this big before?” He looks at you, glancing down to your thighs before smiling. 
“Um, well-” You start, but he interrupts you again. 
“It’s the same size as mine, you know.” 
Anyway, fuck Renjun. 
He’s just like the rest of them, except apparently he doesn’t hunt. He prefers to be hunted himself, he prefers you come to him. A wolf in sheep's clothing, perhaps. 
The sexual innuendos and jokes are a bit overwhelming considering you’ve never been fucking attacked with them before. You really can’t lie to yourself though. As much as you pretend to be unnerved, you love the attention they’re giving you. Years worth of sexual things shared online seems to be making today feel like it was going to happen now or never. All of those stray thoughts you’ve had about each of them as you watched their shared porn and read their dirty words? They’re in the front of your mind right now.
Perhaps staying home all day today was a bad idea, because you find yourself genuinely enjoying the overwhelming tension in the air. You’re quite literally in a sex shop surrounded by friends who are implying they want sex from you. 
Even if it’s all just a prank-birthday thing. You know, like how friends get each other dildos and sex merchandise for a laugh. You can’t help but stare down the bulk of items all four of them begin to pile onto the counter. 
The vibrating panties, leashes, collars, lingerie, dildos, more vibrators, and lube. Not a single condom in sight, not a single pocket pussy either, implying that it can't be purchased because, well, you very well may be the pocket pussy. 
The price goes from fifty dollars to a sum of over six hundred, and none other than Jeno himself pulls out his wallet and slides his card into the machine. Signing his name on the device smoothly, almost prettily, before watching the cashier bag each item carefully and curiously.
You hate to say how attractive it is to see Jeno pay for things specifically meant to be used behind a locked door. He’s paid for your coffee plenty of times, but the act right now is seriously just so…..cocky? With the way his posture is perfect, his confidence is exuding when he presses the buttons, god. Is it the money or is it him doing this to your mind? 
You can’t make eye contact with the woman bagging your gifts, and for some reason find yourself reluctantly making that eye contact with Jeno instead. He gives you that droopy eyed smile, the one he usually gives on a normal, non-sex-fueled day to something endearing you said. Like he didn’t just drop hundreds on things to fuck yourself with, or wear while being fucked. He can tell you’re thanking him though, appreciating him. 
After leaving the store, four big bags being carried by four men, you realize that it’s really not a joke this time. There’s a clock in your head counting down to where Jeno will drive all of you to next. 
“Why’re you being so quiet?” Haechan pokes you from the back seat, pulling some of your hair and forcing your head back against the headrest. 
“What the fuck?” You ask in a panic, turning your entire body to look behind you at him. You can tell he can see the way that little tug had you release a hint of a moan before you started asking him the question so aggressively.  “I’m just enjoying the drive, what? I can’t have a moment of silence to myself?” 
You ignore the chuckle coming from Jeno, driving smoothly and keeping his eyes on the road. Then you glance at Jaemin, who is looking at you much the same way Haechan is. 
“Are you not enjoying yourself?” Renjun asks, leaning up to the center console again. “You’ve been acting kind of weird all day.”
“I’ve been acting weird?!” You huff. The audacity he has to say that you’re the one being weird. 
“You’re just trying to pretend that we don’t want to fuck you like always.” Haechan blurts out while rolling his eyes before Jaemin elbows him in the side. 
You stare at them wide eyed as Renjun slowly leans himself back defensively, as far into the seat as possible. 
“Relax, you act like you weren’t picking up on the hints,” Jeno glances at you as he pulls into another lot. “Secrets out now though.” He shrugs, searching for a parking space. 
“We weren’t even trying to make it a secret, damn.” Haechan rolls his eyes again. “She just likes to play dumb.”
“Or maybe she’s actually dumb.” Jaemin plays off of Haechan’s words.
“Were you guys not planning on letting me have any say in this?!” You ask, voice raised a bit from feeling incredibly flustered. 
“What, you don’t want to?” Jaemin asks, narrowing his eyes at you and trying to search for a hint of a lie when you answer.
“I–” You stop yourself. 
Any normal person would say no, right? Or would a normal person absolutely be down for this? Are you even a normal person? 
“Hm?” Jeno encourages you to finish what you were about to say as he parks and turns off the car. “You don’t want it?” He continues, glancing down and between his legs as if to imply he’s talking more about himself than the group. 
Your eyes follow his and you struggle to swallow around the lump in your throat, averting your eyes to the building that this parking lot belongs to. The fucking mall? 
“I don’t know what you guys are wanting me to say but, this is all a bit too much.” 
The three in the back nod happily at your half-assed rejection, messy hair waving with each nod, and then you look at Jeno as he responds. 
“With all things considered, we know you like it when things are ‘a bit too much’.” He says to you, shutting down any form of rejection you could possibly give. 
You stare at him as he unbuckles and opens the door to get out of the car. Your body is tingling just a little bit at his words. Goddamn that fucking tweet. Goddamn those fucking twitter circles. Goddamn you for having a bunch of horny burn out friends who suddenly feel the need to jump at the opportunity to fuck you that you would have given ages ago had they tried. 
“Always acting like you don’t want it, it’s kind of cute, you know?” Haechan says, pulling himself out of the car now. Jaemin continues his string of thoughts as he gets out of the car after him, “and fucking annoying.” 
There goes any ounce of self respect you could imagine having. Your brain is flooding with everything they said to you in the sex shop and, well, you’re well aware that it’s about to be a birthday to remember.
~
Walking through the mall with your friends should be normal, and it is. But the air is different now, knowing now a hint of the plans they seem to have for your birthday. If they hadn't said all of that in the car, surely you’d know now what the plan was. 
You’re sitting in front of Jeno with your drink, Renjun beside him, Jaemin beside you. Haechan ran off to the bathroom and was in there for a while. You’d make a joke, honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that your phone buzzes and the notification states it’s from him. 
Jaemin silently and curiously watches you open it from the side. 
Silence. Unnerving silence from the entire food court as you glance at your screen for a split second before slamming your phone face down on the table and refusing to look at any of them. 
You feel seen, and you know for a fact that Haechan is probably laughing his ass off in that fucking bathroom stall with the way you leave that image on read. 
“You’re blushing–” Jeno says, watching the way your eyes shift and you suck down your drink like there’s no tomorrow. “Why?” 
You pretend you don’t hear him before Jaemin laughs. 
“Haechan showed her his dick,” He smiles, leaning down onto the table and scooting close to you. “I think you liked it.”
“I barely saw it!” You defend in a tone louder than expected, continuously sipping your drink until it’s nearly empty. 
You can’t bear to make eye contact with any of them right now, not after seeing a raging cock like the one Haechan is sporting. He’s a menace, truly, and it’s not that you wouldn’t have wanted to see it or anything but like maybe sending it to you in such a public space was a dick move on his part.
Sensing the eyes of three men on you right now, judging to see what you really think of Haechan’s junk, you refuse to look up from the table. 
Jeno definitely takes advantage of your blind spots. Wanting so badly to see those cheeks blush the same way they’re doing for Haechan. If anything, for his own ego boost. He wants you to break for him, not for that slut Haechan who is obvious in his attempts to make you want him the most.
Your phone buzzes again. 
“Go on,” Jeno smiles. “Open it.” He encourages you, noting the way you still won’t look up at them. Loving how you’re somehow both entirely shameless and entirely cautious about this situation. 
You realize only now that these men are taking advantage of every single situation. 
Of course you didn’t notice Jeno skewing his phone down and under the table. How could you notice? You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that Haechan is in a bathroom right now raging hard and proud of it.
You don’t even know why you listen to him, opening the text from none other than Jeno himself and seeing a photo of his hand gripping himself. You can see the outline of his length and the way his fingers grip against the sheer size of it. Right fucking here, under this very table. You can see your shoes at the corner of the photo briefly as you stare at the photo a bit longer than you truly meant to. Kind of wishing he had just sent you a raw photo of it. 
Now he can fucking see you imagine what’s under these pants. The lump he’s gripping only offers so much to your imagination and it leaves you wanting more. He knows it’s doing something for you with the way you stare at it, eyes no longer darting over the screen of your phone but pointed at one specific place. 
Your eyes shift up to him on instinct now.
Buzz. 
You whip your head over to Renjun when you see his name pop up on your screen. He does not look at you nor your reaction to the text but is smirking devilishly just like the rest of them. 
You’re a little thankful that his photo must’ve been a picture he took on some other day. You feel relief that at least he’s maybe not entirely hard like Jeno and Haechan are right now. (He is.)
“You guys are pussies,” Jaemin comments, shaming his friends for simply sending photos when you’re right here, looking all shy and reserved as if you haven’t been rubbing your legs together all day. “Come here.” He says quickly and quietly, grabbing your hand as if it’s to warm it up before blatantly pressing it between his legs and flexing his length under your palm.
He’s hard. Like, incredibly hard and it takes everything in you not to grab it. 
Then you hear him chuckle, looking at you and the way you haven’t even removed your hand from him yet. 
“So shameless,” Jeno side-eyes, annoyed. “We’re in public, at least act like you’re not enjoying this right now.” 
You’re quick to retract your hand, feeling Jaemin’s hips shift up and against it until he can no longer chase the feeling of your fingers. 
There, you’re left feeling a mess. The worst part is that they’re not even alone in being turned on right now in the middle of a food court. You regret wearing these shorts, the arousal is easily seeping through your panties and offering a very, very, uncomfortable sensation against you. Each shift of your legs feels like a jolt of pleasure and also a raw and rashed feeling of the denim being too harsh against an extremely sensitive area on your body.
Many times over the years, you’ve thought of each of these men at least once or twice. With all that porn they share on twitter, it really really is hard not to. Never did you expect them all to act this way toward you while together though. It was always a one on one thing in your head, but now? You’ve seen Haechan and Renjun’s cocks, you’ve gotten an idea of how big Jeno’s is, and you’ve blatantly felt Jaemin’s. 
The body tingles are worse now. There’s a burning in your stomach, and it travels straight between your legs. The arousal is there, but a release isn’t. At least not yet. 
“I’m going to the bathroom.” You jump up. 
Not only is this bathroom break there for like, actual bathroom purposes seeing as how you’ve had a coffee, an entire bottle of water, and now that tasty tea that you just downed within the span of three seconds, but, also because you need to breathe. You need to gather your thoughts desperately, and maybe get a better look at those photos. 
“No,” Jeno laughs, standing up after you. “You’re just trying to avoid it.” He looms over you as he stands, looking down at you with a smirk. “You don’t need to use the bathroom.”
“No, I actually do need to. I just drank that entire tea in less than five minutes thanks to you guys.” 
“That’s too bad,” He says in a mocking tone. “We have places to be.” 
And you just look at him, seeing Haechan appear in your peripheral vision as he talks in an animated way with Jaemin and Renjun. 
~
Store after store, you can feel the atmosphere become heavier and heavier between you and your group of friends. They’re entirely shameless in how they’re interacting with you and at this point, you can barely remember how the dynamic used to be. 
There used to be flirting, but it was all based on a joke. At least that’s what you thought back then. Now, after seeing specific parts of them as they were sitting right in front of and next to you, save for Haechan, all of this flirting seems more like fucking foreplay. 
It feels like torture, watching Jeno spend and spend his money on anything you so much as glance at. Haechan’s hands constantly stay on you in some way. Jaemin? Fucking Jaemin, cornering you alone every chance he gets, whispering things, pressing his dick against your ass when he’s behind you, asking you to touch him again.
You feel like you’re going insane with the amount of nervous arousal shaking within you. Your body loves it, your mind loves it. Every suggestion bursts vividly in your head, to the point that you very nearly feel like all of this could be a dream. 
Then, the very not normal Renjun shocks you when he tries to lace his fingers in yours as you walk. You did find comfort with his warm hands in yours, despite having a photo of his hard cock sitting in a text message. It was kind of grounding, maybe? Reminding you that this isn’t a dream at all. All four of your friends are trying to fuck you. 
Renjun kept fiddling with your fingers as you walked which, arguably, is a bit detrimental seeing as how you’re just a group of five people wandering around a mall with a desperate need to like, fuck something.
Safe to say you’re the one who may have shocked him. Thinking too hard about the way his fingers move and play against you. You focus on his birthmark, the way it contrasts with his skin tone and appears to be more like a bruise than anything else. The way his veins pulse languidly when he squeezes your fingers in his, you wonder if he moves his hands the same way when he’s using them for pleasure.
Renjun looks down at your fingers intertwined through the silence, loving the way you allow him to do this. He knows it’s not forward like everyone else even if he’s chasing the same thing. He likes to study the way you react, testing his own methods and noting how he’s somehow got you not even watching where you’re walking because you’re too busy staring at his fingers laced with yours. 
“What’re you thinking about?” He whispers right up against you as you walk behind the others, shifting his eyes to check and see that they’re not paying attention to this little moment.  
When you look back up at him, your attraction burns in your eyes and he sees that shit instantly.
“About my fingers?” He smirks.
You look away and relax your hand in his, as if to remove it from his grasp, but he takes this opportunity to show you the strength he has in his hands alone, squeezing tighter. 
“You were imagining what they could do to you, weren’t you?” He says it so proudly, like he could possibly be the first of the four to get you to actually incriminate yourself in wanting him just as badly as he wants you. 
“And if I was?” You glare before glancing down again. “What then?” 
“We could slip away right now, into that bathroom over there and I could show you–” 
Bathroom. 
You still need to go to the bathroom, but the arousal of fucking everything right now is taking high priority when it comes to how your body feels. The burn is…interesting when you think about it. You feel heavy between your legs, entirely turned on, and honestly, if he hadn't said that word you likely would have continued to pretend you don’t need to go. 
“Speaking of,” You announce so that the three walking in front turn to listen. “Bathroom break?” 
Jeno doesn’t stop walking, shaking his head.
“No, this is the last stop and the bathroom is like, across the mall.” He offers a genuine excuse, causing you to huff and completely miss the way he smirks at the small win. 
“There was a bathroom just back there.” You protest, halting where you are before turning to look at the door.
“Employees only.” Jeno continues, now turning himself around and walking backwards. “What? Gonna throw a tantrum? Just hold it, stop whining.”
You huff again, looking at Renjun and rolling your eyes.
“Was that for me, or do you actually need to go?” He asks as you try to speed up and walk with Jaemin instead. 
“I actually need to go, but I guess I’ll just deal for now.” Another eye roll. 
Damn, rejected. Still, you admitted to possibly thinking about what his fingers could do for you, and that’s a win in his book.
~
There’s a specific type of effort in the way you pretend you don’t care for what’s going on. You know they don’t believe your act, and they know you know. It feels like a game, and at some point all games come to an end.
The car ride back to your apartment felt like hell. Your body is far more aroused with the need to be filled compared to the need to be emptied. Thoughts of going to the bathroom are so far out of your mind with the way the silence in the car feels heavy and sex fueled. 
Every sound feels like it’s implied to be sexual. Haechan stretched for a moment and every single head turned to him for the sound he made. On any other day, that’s just a stretch. Today though, that’s probably what he would sound like if he were plunging into you. 
Jeno’s hand remains on your leg in a somewhat possessive way. Rubbing his thumb in circles and moving that touch higher and higher as he drives. The warmth you feel under his fingertips are forcing images to bleed into your mind. You wonder if he wants to move them higher, if he wants to tuck his fingers under the fabric and feel around the skin that’s not shown. You wonder if these simple touches would feel just as warm caressing other places on your body. Slipping under your shirt or down your shorts. Running through your hair, holding your chin up to look at him– 
You’re thankful they can’t read minds. You’d blow your whole cover at this moment, as you finally let your mind truly think about what’s happened today, and what will likely happen soon. If you were in your right mind, you think you would be able to understand where all of this is coming from. It truly was sudden with the way they’re acting, but it’s a natural instinct for you to not care why it’s happening, and only care about the fact that it should happen.
There’s no telling what will take place when you get back into your apartment. You can picture it so clearly but then again, you also can’t. There’s so many things you can do with four men at the same time but, the issue is that you want to do all of the things.
“So, you want us all to eat you out.” Jaemin deadpans through the silence. What he says should be a question, but it comes out more like a statement. 
In all fairness, he’s so hard that being quiet right now? Waiting like he has been all day? It’s too much. He needs to talk about it.
Only now do you tear your eyes away from Jeno’s hand on your leg. 
“What?” You ask, searching your brain for any sober thought that would indicate you ever invited them to do such a thing with your own words.
“You said you want us to eat you out on your couch.” He dead pans, sucking in a breath and adjusting himself in the seat to offer his length optimal comfort. 
“No? I didn’t?” 
“Bullshit!” Haechan argues, already pulling up the receipts on his phone and leaning forward to put it directly in your line of sight. “Eyeball emoji and all.”
You stare at the tweet you shared with the implications it gave to your friends. Now, you’re in a car with said friends, on your birthday, after an entire day of sex fueled conversations and acts. 
It definitely was an implication at its finest but it’s not like you knew this would come out of it. This specific tweet seems to have been the final straw for them and you can’t help but feel fucking proud of it. 
“Technically, I didn’t say that.” You still try to keep the energy you’ve had all day, but Jeno’s hand offers you a squeeze against your thigh and instantly you’re turning your head to look at him. 
“But you do want it,” Jeno says, pulling into the lot of your apartment building. “And we’re going to give it to you.”
You stare at him much like you have tried to avoid all day. 
“But–” 
“Stop.” He warns, cutting you off from any argument you try to form. “You want it.” He repeats again, this time letting his eyes scan you for a moment.
He’s not wrong. If anything, you want it more now than you did three seconds ago based on that tone of voice alone. That cold, scolding, deep voice that would make you agree to anything he says anyway. 
You don’t even turn to look at the nods of approval as Jeno shuts you down. Instead, you wait for him to park.
~
First things first, bathroom. Except that’s not anyone else��s priority. You wouldn’t be able to go even if you started running for the door. 
Why? Because the way Jaemin closes in on you before the front door is even closed. Shamefully, his eagerness does manage to push that need for a release into the back of your mind for just a little longer. 
After a full day of fantasizing, wanting, and needing, Jaemin made damn sure he was the first. Kicking his shoes off and helping you to get yours off before blatantly ignoring his friends and swooping you up in his arms.
You briefly glance back at the others, offering a pleading look of “save me please” but, there is no saving to be had here. All three of them have a dark look in their eyes, leaving the bags of gifts bought for you right there at the door as they watch Jaemin give in to his fantasy first. 
That, he does. There is no room to protest, to play games, or pretend like you’d push him away. Because you won’t, and he fucking knows it. 
He carries you to the couch with such ease, tossing you down onto it and adjusting you before you can do it yourself. 
You can’t look away from him. For a moment it feels like this instance with him is entirely hidden. Like there aren't three other guys watching the way he pushes you back against the couch, falls to his knees, and spreads your legs with a strong grip. 
“Oh fuck,” He comments to himself, noting the way you smell from the day of their hard work on arousing you. He stares directly between your legs and loves the way your shorts have ridden up to the point it must have been uncomfortable. “Look at you.” 
You can’t bear to admit the blatant truth of what he’s seeing. These shorts have been dampened over and over again today. You’d be shocked if they were dry. You can imagine how pathetic you look right now too, pussy nearly on display already while still being fully covered.  
On instinct you shoot your arms up to cover your face as if to avoid this embarrassment. The confirmation of wanting this all day, just like them, is shameful. Even as Jaemin unbuttons your shorts and starts to tug at them, you can’t help the way you feel like you’re spiraling. 
You want this so badly, and now Jaemin has the dirty, messy, wet proof. 
“So shy,” You hear from behind you, now feeling another pair of hands pull your arms from your face and hold them at your side, as he dips down to your neck from behind the couch. “You tried to hide it but,” He continues, blowing softly at the spot at the dip of your neck. “You were squeezing those legs together all day wanting someone between them, weren’t you?” 
Goddamn Jeno for being a talker. Fuck Jeno for having these strong hands and holding you down for Jaemin to toy around between your legs. Curse that man for having such a sensual voice as he talks to you, dumbing you down to the point that all you can do is fucking agree with him. 
Jaemin listens intently to the way Jeno talks to you as he continues to bask in the scent. Your shorts are now crumpled to the floor and your blatant arousal was evident in all forms of the word. Your panties leave nothing to the imagination, soaked to the point of not being able to hold any more of that dripping heat. They rode up much like your shorts did, exposing both lips and folds to envelope the fabric tightly as if you were intending to gain some sort of friction from them throughout the day. He thinks that you were, quite literally, fucking yourself against these flimsy panties for the majority of the time you spent with them, pretending that they weren’t rubbing against your clit the entire time. 
He hums from between your legs, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs to spread your legs out more. Haechan comes over now, wanting to see what it is that has Jaemin entirely speechless and holy fuck, anyone would be. 
Your folds are glistening in wet, unsticking and settling around your tightly stretched panties in a different way now. Haechan makes no attempt to pretend it’s not a beautiful sight. 
He’s the first to moan at the image of how pathetically horny you got for them. All while trying to hide it, parading around all fucking day with your panties hugging that clit in a way you wished he was– for sure. Him. You want him the most, and he’s going to fucking give it to you. 
“Aww,” Haechan coos, his eyes scanning you entirely. “You really do want me to eat it, don’t you?” 
The heat that runs down your body at those words is more telling than the small sigh that forces itself out of your throat. Your entire body jerks at the feeling of goosebumps reacting to his words, and for some reason, you shoot your eyes to Renjun as if seeing him right now will calm your embarrassment. It doesn’t though. Renjun is looming near the entry of your living room, staring blankly at what’s been revealed with the heavy length in his pants twitching and making itself known to you. He appears to be waiting for your response.
You don’t respond. How could you? There are no words in your head right now. Not with all of the sensations you’re feeling, not with all of the eyes on you. You try to offer a nod, feeling pathetic, but your hips answer for him.
Haechan watches the way they buck up at his words and instantly he’s shoving Jaemin over with a confident chuckle, slotting himself between your legs alongside him. He shows no shame in the way he hooks his fingers under the panties, digging in deep just to get a hold of them. You can feel his knuckle bump your hole and you clench at the feeling. Then, as if he’s making a show of it, he groans as he stretches your panties out of your folds and away from your body. 
“Damn,” Haechan says nearly in unison with Jaemin, both entirely too eager to be in a shared space between your legs right now. They barely even acknowledge the other, but there is a silent form of encouragement between the two. 
Never did you think you’d find your eyes glued to the way Haechan slips the panties off of you, or the way Jaemin pockets them instantly. Like they’re working together, even if not on the same team.
You breathe in audibly at the air that hits you. It’s cold, sending a shiver down your entire body. Jeno feels those goosebumps under his hold on you, his cock twitching wildly in his pants at seeing how you’re just letting this happen.
“So, so, dirty,” He starts in a whisper against your neck, so silent that it almost feels like he doesn’t want the others to hear. “I knew you’d get off to this.” 
You release the smallest of groans and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s calling you out or if it’s because someone down there just slid their fingers up your slit. 
Holy fuck, whose fingers are down there doing this right now?
Haechan is beaming up at you, giving himself the title of public enemy number one because he definitely centered himself between your legs and shoved Jaemin out of the way entirely. He wants to be the first one to taste you, and he fucking means it. 
He shows no shame in how desperate he is, which kind of makes you feel a little better as you watch him and his head of messy hair nearly lose sight of the goal while he spreads your pussy apart repeatedly just to see you clench around nothing.
God, he adores seeing your body reacting to what he’s not yet giving. The way you clench, the way your legs tense with each slide of his fingers. He’s inspecting the damage of your untouched and utterly soaked pussy as if it was entirely his fault that you’re in this state. 
The other’s let him have this one though, because they know for a fact that when they get between those thighs, they’ll humble him with confident ease. 
Jaemin, specifically, believes this. Taking defeat in being shoved from between your legs and losing his chance at being the first to fuck his tongue into you. The image of Haechan doing his thing is enough to give him the confidence to do twice as well when it’s his turn anyway. 
He busies himself instead.
There, as Haechan slides his fingers up your slit before landing right on your clit and pressing harshly against it, Jaemin unlocks his phone and opens his camera without a single hint of hesitation. His other hand goes straight to his jeans, skewing them down to let his cock spring free. Then, he’s reaching for your soaked panties and simply…hanging them off the head of his length as he records the scene in front of him with an eager glint in his eye. 
“Mm, look–” Jeno says as he nudges your cheek, holding you down more now in case you make an attempt to lunge forward and knock that phone out of his hands. “You must look so good down there for him to wanna record you like this.”
You don’t even protest, because the clench of your pussy that’s being recorded in 4k would tell on you. Jaemin’s eyes are glued to the screen of his phone as Haechan continues to spread you open, exploring, feeling. Your eyes are tuned in to the only bare cock in the room now, seeing your panties shield the majority of it but loving the imagine of how tall his length stands, and then, finally–
“Oh? What was that?” Jeno perks up at the now, louder, sigh you release from your shamed lips. “Do you like what he’s doing?” He adds, trailing his eyes down to see exactly what caused you to make such a pretty sound.
You moan a confirmation, feeling a warm pair of lips wrap around your clit and suck harshly. The sounds of Haechan’s pleased hum at the taste only amplifies the touch beyond belief. Your entire body tingles at how insane all of this feels. Lips on you, Jeno’s voice in your ear, Jaemin recording it for later use, and Renjun slowly inviting himself to join? 
Your legs immediately try to close around Haechan’s head when he continues to assault your clit with small grazes of his teeth, and wouldn’t you know it, Renjun finally approaches. Taking the struggle of your legs as a fucking invitation. He holds your legs with a stronger grip than you ever imagined he could have, spreading them wide enough that your ass nearly lifts from the couch.
 The stretch of how wide he spreads them burns, and you try to look up at him in a pleading way but he's too busy pressing his surprisingly large cock against the side of your leg as he watches Haechan lick against you.
Haechan is appreciative of what Renjun offers to the scenario, feeling your pussy spread out across his lips and chin. It’s enticing when he doesn’t have to spread it open with his fingers, and it’s hard not to lick the entirety of it as he abandons your clit. Tongue slipping through each fold, licking flat right against your hole, then pressing in slightly before returning back to your clit and skewing his head to really get at it.
So, this is actually a thing that is happening. All four of your friends are entirely tuned into you and you’re being held down as if you’d run away. As if you’re not enjoying it. Goddamn, you are though. 
In a split second decision, you prove that by overpowering Jeno and his weaker hold against you now. Seeing as how he was entirely lost in watching the way your legs and stomach tense at whatever Haechan’s tongue was doing. You rip your arms from his grasp and instantly grab Haechan’s hair, holding his face down and against your clit. Rubbing his nose in it, bucking your hips up against the pressure of his lips and tongue, wildly chasing what his lazy tongue struggles to offer. 
There’s the desperate need to fuck all of your friends that you’ve been hiding, and it’s showing. 
Jeno chuckles, nodding against your neck, still not touching and waiting for you to just fucking moan louder. More than Haechan, just overpower his sounds so he doesn’t have to hear how fucking good you taste, or how good you smell, or how good your pussy must look down there. 
Still, you don’t give them everything they want. You stay reserved in the sounds you make in terms of reactions, even as you use Haechan’s face like a toy. Even as Jaemin audibly gasps at what you’re doing, even as Renjun releases one of your legs out of a desperate need to hold the other one against him so that he can feel some type of release. 
Haechan knows his friends are jealous of him at this moment though. He’s lucky to feel your fingers tugging against his hair, he’s blessed to have your clit bumping his lips. He can feel your pussy drip against his chin the more you ride his face, and goddamn he must be doing a good job at being used. 
That, he is. You only struggle more and more to not moan at the feeling of the way he just…lets you. If you knew he was always this submissive when it comes to eating pussy, you would have jumped on his tongue years ago. 
Jaemin continues his recording, trying to zoom in and out to get a good angle that doesn’t involve the boners of his own friends, eventually deciding that he simply doesn’t care if Renjun is in the frame fucking that monster he’s got in his jeans against your leg. You’re the center of the world right now, and he’s a part of this just like his friends. 
He tries not to focus on the image of Haechan gripping your couch for dear life either.
Slowly though, he begins to realize there’s a strange type of arousal in this room, one that isn’t entirely burning just for you. There’s something about seeing Haechan being used, seeing Jeno try to remain in control, whispering cocky little words into your ear, like he’s not pressing his cock against the back of that couch, seeing Renjun blatantly lose his composure against you when he’s never so much as hinted to the others that he was into this sort of thing.
Jaemin really feels like he’s going insane over the realization of how alluring this situation is, how alluring his friends are, how alluring he must be.  
The speed of which he tosses the panties from his cock and shoves Haechan out of his way is not to be discussed. He feels a fire behind his thoughts at this moment that surely, Haechan won’t mind. Surely, you’ll not feel that split second of abandonment that’ll take place in the time span it takes for him to replace Haechan’s lips.
He forces his phone into a dazed Haechan’s hands who lazily raises the camera up to see Jaemin take his place. The way you barely even take a breath, the way you don’t even react to the change of mouth against you– goddamn, Haechan may very well fall into obsession with you at this moment. 
Replacing him with Jaemin like he’s trash? Why does he love it? The way you grab Jaemin’s hair the same way you did to his own? Is that what he looked like when you did that? Spreading your legs and fucking against his face? Seeing it from a different angle, with a different person to Haechan, makes him believe you may be the sexiest woman he’s ever had the pleasure of licking.
And if you knew of the crisis happening below, perhaps you’d be able to focus on that more than the sound of Jeno’s deep sighs against your neck. Really, maybe you would have realized that the hair tangled in your fingers is now Jaemin’s. 
Your brain focuses solely on the way Jeno’s lips brush against your skin, the wet feeling of his tongue darting out every few minutes, whispering deep mutterings of the things he loves about what’s happening. Words like “I can hear how wet you are, is it for me or for them?” and “You want more, don’t you? I could bury myself so deep for you–”
It’s kind of crazy how Jeno’s words somehow feel more intense than Jaemin’s tongue on you. There’s something within his words that feel damning. Like he’s belittling his friends despite blatantly seeing how they pleasure you. Like there’s a promise sprinkled in that after all of this, he would be the one you’d think about the most. He would be the one to leave the lasting impression. 
Arguably, he already has. Spending his money on you without question, calling you out in a way that shows he knows exactly what game you’re playing. You think that if you let Jeno have at you, it may very well be a lasting impression on everyone, not just you. 
Still, you try to focus on Jaemin’s lips through Jeno’s muttering. 
You can feel the way he uses more tongue than Haechan and you know your hips are chasing his mouth right now. You can also feel the vibrations of his moans against you and while that is a heavenly feeling, Jeno’s small grunts penetrate straight through that pleasure and center itself once again. Briefly, you almost imagine it’s Jeno between your legs.
You’re moaning softly right next to him, hips chasing a feeling that he’s not even offering to you but god these sounds are for him. You’d never tell Jaemin that the moans aren’t directed at the beautiful work he’s giving to you though. Never. 
These moans are for Jeno to react to, to take in, to use as encouragement. And he eats it up, tensing himself against your couch and finally using his hands for something other than helping you hold Jaemin’s head in place. 
He runs them up, now moving his head to the other side of your neck and leaving small kisses there as he lifts your shirt up, up, up until it’s bunched up under your arms. There, he cups the flesh of your chest and uses his pointer finger on both hands to tease your already hardened nipples through the fabric of your bra. 
He’s thought about playing with your tits so often, now that he can do it? He’d be damned not to savor it while his friends are busy fucking themselves and being used by you. 
He teases, and teases, and fucking teases.
“Sensitive?” He whispers against you at the way you arch your back into his touch more than the way your hips fuck up. 
You nod mindlessly, throwing your head back against the couch. Then, finally, he pulls your bra up too. An uncomfortable fit against your collar bone but his warm hands overpower the feeling of fabric that you’d rather have removed completely. 
At first, he just holds them in his hands, feeling the weight of them, bouncing them, and then caressing them. 
“Could drive me insane with these.” He whispers against your neck in a pleased sigh, pinching one of your nipples before mindlessly playing with them. “I’d like to slide my dick between them and feel how fucking soft they are,” He continues, losing his train of thought as he stares down, imagining how the slide would feel. “Fuck, so pretty.”
At that moment, you think he might have lost composure. The sound of his voice indicates that he was really thinking about it. You can feel the couch budge at the way he tenses up against it, and that paired with his teeth biting against your neck, you feel like the most desired person in the room. Which is true. 
The more Jeno talks, the more you find yourself willing to give him just about anything he asks for. His big hands grope your chest in such a firm way, blatantly showing interest in the way he touches and plays with them. Every fleshy expanse of skin there is warmed up by his hands and it’s not strange at all to feel incredibly turned on by it.
Haechan audibly moans at seeing your tits jiggle in Jeno’s hands, probably ruining the video he’s recording but god damn. He knew they were huge but they’re pretty too and that’s just the ultimate combination when it comes to tits for him. 
Just as Haechan goes to make his mouth useful again against a different part of you, Renjun takes what he needs. Which is fair, Haechan thinks, knowing that he’s already gotten to taste you, the least he can do is let Renjun suck some titties. 
Jaemin, is still below enjoying himself and shockingly, Haechan is keeping to himself as he records, slipping his hand down his pants just to edge himself every few minutes as he watches the situation unfold. Almost in a daze at how insane it is that finally, you’re letting them see and touch you like this.
Feeling Renjun finally put his mouth on you though? Damn. Feeling three of the four touching you is a lot to take in but you still manage to do it. Jolts of pleasure are sent straight to where Jaemin continuously grinds his lips against your clit. Renjun shows no shame in inviting himself onto the couch next to you, swatting one of Jeno’s hands away and laying claim on one of your tits, immediately sucking against it and feeling himself spiral at the way you arch into it. 
Jeno can’t say he’s too pleased with that though, staring straight at the way everyone has had their lips on part of you, but all he’s gotten was your fucking neck? All he’s gotten was to hump up against this couch to satiate his needs, and feel your nipples? 
Renjun doesn’t notice the dark look on Jeno’s face, but Haechan sure does as he double takes at both the image on the phone screen and Jeno. 
He recognizes that look and knows for a fact that Renjun better open his eyes and pay attention, or–
“Jaemin, get her off or move–” Jeno says, halting his fingers on your nipple as he backs away from the couch and now comes around in full view.
You stare, feeling Renjun continuously suck against your nipple, sending ripples down to your belly. Jeno’s pants are much tighter than before, and you can see the outline of his cock much like when you saw the photo he sent you.
It looks even bigger than before and your mouth nearly waters for it. The eye contact he’s keeping with you doesn’t do anything to help the situation either because he loves the way you struggle to decide on if you want to meet his eye or stare at his length. 
There, he grabs himself, thrusting his hips playfully toward you with a quirk of his brow, as if to suggest you could have more than just his tongue if you ask. 
You take in the implied suggestion, releasing Jaemin’s hair and struggling not to shove him clear across the room just to see what Jeno has to offer to you. It’s honestly like no one else in the room exists when he stands between your legs, looming over you and not at all falling to his knees. 
You, Haechan, and Jaemin watch as he stands there, making a show of unbuttoning his pants to get his cock out. Renjun remains in his own little world though, sucking your nipple as if his life depends on it while shoving his pants down and shamelessly fucking into his fist. 
Then, Jeno makes his move. It’s not exactly unwanted but damn, he really fucking goes for it. Dropping his pants to the floor and gripping Renjun by the hair, pulling him away from you as well.
“You got what you wanted while I had to watch,” Jeno comments harshly at his friends, grabbing your legs and pulling you down to wrap them around his waist. “Now, you watch me.”
Instantly, your pussy is throbbing at the image of how huge he is. His cock lays easily against you, heavy and leaking as it twitches to be inside of something. He’s going to fuck you. Jeno is going to fuck the life out of you. This wasn’t at all in the plan, then again, was any of this in your plan for the day? 
Do you want Jeno to fuck you? Your eyes scan the room, all three men and a camera pointing their eyes at you. There seems to be a bit of a hopeful glint in each eye.
You nod weakly, watching Jeno take a good look at your pussy before smirking. 
“So wet for this, no wonder they were moaning more than you were,” Jeno smiles, staring down at your hole before licking the tips of his fingers and dipping them into you without so much as a warning. “Feels good to finally have something to fuck, right Birthday girl?”
You’re speechless, wincing at how deep he buries his fingers. Never realizing just how perfect they’d reach inside of you. He bumps areas inside that you desperately need with so much ease.
Oh, oh fucking no.
There’s that burn. The reminder of a different release, pressure building up at lightning speed as your wet walls squeeze his fingers. 
“How long have you wanted this?” Jeno comments at how tight you’re squeezing his fingers. “How long have you wanted me?” He continues, ignoring the other three in the room and paying no mind to them.
You can barely answer, your body reacting in all sorts of ways that it never has when it comes to a pair of fingers and dirty words. Perhaps it’s the sudden burn of needing to get to the bathroom, or perhaps it’s just Jeno. He leaves no room for any of that though, as he continues to chase what he wants. 
“You want me?” He asks, urging you to nod, leaning over you and gripping your cheeks with one hand to look directly into his eyes. 
His other hand pulls from your pussy and he coats his length in that wet that soaks his fingers. There, he tugs, leaking just like you are for it. 
You blink up at him, sparing a single glance at the others and hoping that they don’t protest when you ultimately nod your head innocently.
“Take it then.” He seethes the words through his teeth before instantly adjusting his length and sliding into you in one go. Bottoming out entirely and holding himself there. 
The sound you let out is embarrassing and slightly choked. The stretch of him inside of you makes you shake, your legs falling open from around him at the weakness in your muscles trying to adjust to the intrusion. 
His two fingers were not enough to prepare for how thick he is inside of you. Every twitch he offers hurts, every breath he takes feels like he’s already fucking you senseless and you genuinely couldn’t muster up a single word of “wait,” if you wanted to.
Because you don’t want him to wait. You like the searing pain of fullness both inside of your pussy and bladder. It’s overwhelming and almost blinding to feel so utterly out of control of your body. 
“Oh, my god.” Jaemin whispers out, experiencing first hand how huge Jeno’s cock is and the way he makes it fit into you. 
He can see how tight you are around him, knowing for a fact that if Jeno were to jerk his hips back, your pussy would resist it. He shifts his eyes to the other’s in the room, seeing how Haechan has blatantly abandoned his phone and propped it up on the table to get his pants off, probably because he wants to see if he can fuck you after Jeno.
Renjun is just fucking gone, already having a fair share of cum on his shirt and breathing hard as he stares directly at the point of entry in a dazed and hopeful way. 
Then there’s himself. Jaemin wants to fuck something so goddamn bad that he’s actually a little upset that he left that store without a pocket pussy. If Jeno gets to do what he wants, why the fuck can’t he?
So, he not so reluctantly finds him moving to his feet and over to you– avoiding eye contact with Jeno as he kicks his pants off followed by his shirt and lounges next to you on the couch. 
He’s reluctant to reach for you at first, but when Jeno relieves that pressure inside of you for a moment and slams back in, he finds himself immediately reaching for your hand and lying it directly against his cock simply because of the sound you make.
You can barely think straight through the stars of Jeno’s cock spreading you open so slowly like this. He barely pulls out before pushing back in when you feel Jaemin grab your hand. You do your best, honestly, with all things considered. Opting to simply hold his cock tightly so that he can at least fuck into it. And that he does, especially when he hears the continuous string of whimpered moans spilling from your lips.
Jeno really does pay no mind to Jaemin because the point is, he’s the one who has his cock in you. They can take what they can get but he’s going to take exactly what he wants. 
You’re incredibly tight around him, strangling his cock in such a beautiful way despite still dripping around it. The slide is harsh when he pulls back again. He looks down, watching the way your pussy grips him before pushing back in a bit harder this time. 
“God, fuck,” He groans, gripping your legs and now pushing you back and fully onto the couch. He crawls over you, somehow managing to plant his cock even deeper when he thrusts this time. “You can barely take it–”
The way he moans breathlessly makes you feel proud despite your body feeling as if it’s on fire. Not a single mouth on your clit has gotten you close to orgasm because of his words overshadowing it. Now, though? With his cock bumping repeatedly against the softest spot in your pussy? You’re fucking shaking. 
His moans do little to help the situation as you clench tightly, panicking slightly at the familiar feeling in your gut.  You shoot up, nearly knocking heads with Jeno and abandoning Jaemin’s pathetically needy cock all together when you continue to push Jeno away. 
He barely budges, forcing his cock in and out of you, smiling at your panic. This is what he was waiting for, he can see exactly what you’re trying to do. 
“Just take it,” He laughs slowly, picking up the pace of his hips and watching that panic in your eyes. “Let it go.” 
You can’t bring yourself to do it. That burning sensation in your bladder making itself far too known when his cock bumps that spot inside of you. You aggressively shake your head. 
“Come on, let it go.” He encourages, now snaking his hand down and rubbing your clit at such speed that really, it’s not intentional. 
Your body tenses and you let out that breath you’ve been holding through this. On instinct your body pushes, it shakes, and you let go. Jeno knew exactly what he was doing throughout the day too, so he’s fucking beaming when your pussy forces him out along with the gushing liquid of your long awaited release. 
“God, so messy.” He compliments you, trying to force his cock back into place to feel that release in its full intensity. “Let it go, drench me–” He continues to talk, losing his goddamn mind at how soaked he’s getting. Fucking so harshly past your clenching walls, burying himself as deep as he can go just to feel the way your pussy jerks him off in an attempt to push him out.
He rumbles out a pleased sound, side eyeing Jaemin and the way he sits there fisting his own cock at a speed that is likely very painful. He can’t bear to turn to see the other’s though, but hopefully they know now who is calling the shots here after this.
It goes on for so long that you can barely even open your eyes by the time your body stops releasing. You choose not to comment on what just happened, knowing full well that you’ve never squirted in your life and feeling embarrassed that Jeno fucked you for a total of four minutes to force that out of you.
The relief you feel inside of you right now is…interesting to say the least. Still, you choose not to focus on the fact that Jeno is fucking beaming at you, still fucking into you, and the wet sounds below are far more telling than any porn you’ve ever watched. 
The room falls into silence save for the slapping of Jeno taking you for all you’re worth and the sounds of palms hitting the base of their assigned cocks, and– oh?
“You’re just taking it–” He groans out, short of breath as he drives himself deeper, harder, and then suddenly emptying you completely.
“Renjun,” Jeno says, lazily pumping his cock as if he didn’t just go fucking feral on top of you, and then abandon you.
You’re shocked at how fucking fast Renjun jumps up though, following orders as if he was born to do it. 
No words are spoken after that, all Jeno does is nod his head to the space between your legs and immediately you feel Renjun’s hands gripping your thighs and his tongue lapping away at the mess. 
Your legs start to shake again, feeling sensitive to the point that your hips try and fight to get away from his relentless probes of the tongue. He won’t let you go, holding you down and letting his lips follow wherever your hips go. 
You can’t get away, all you can feel is Renjun’s mouth cleaning up every single drop of that embarrassing mess that Jeno created, and the desperate whines that are coming from your lips only drive Renjun to eat harder. Making out with your clit in the way he’s wanted to do all fucking day, stiffening his tongue and tasting the insides of you, fingernails digging into your flesh just to prove how badly he needed this. 
It all happens so fast, a second orgasm approaching at the speed of light when Jeno coos out at the both of you. You both look pathetic, and it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be. 
Renjun goes, and goes, and fucking goes until– you realize how close he is. 
So close that, despite already having gotten off once without so much as letting anyone know, he’s standing to his feet and instantly fisting his cock. The speed of which he does it allows your clit to swell even more at the image despite your orgasm trickling back down. 
You focus on his face and the way his brows knit together, his mouth falls open, and then– a breathy moan. You can feel it spill, dripping down your slit and onto the couch. You’re shocked he has so much to offer as you lay there shaking, watching him empty himself entirely onto you. 
And then, the fucking whiplash you feel when Jeno moves him out of the way and, quite literally, drags you onto the floor before spreading you out wide for ultimate use. 
As long as he gets his cock in you again, they can do whatever they want for their release. 
You’re so silent, never feeling more like prey than you do now when you feel Jeno tuck a cushion up under your ass and fuck Renjun’s cum right into you in one slow and languid thrust. It’s animalistic in the way this turned from them trying to pleasure you into now, them trying to pleasure themselves. 
You can barely comprehend the way Jeno forces you to take his size again. Your mouth is left hanging open and Haechan uses that as a damn invitation, pressing his length past your lips and bumping the back of your throat. He holds your head there, feeling your throat constrict around him and releasing a long awaited moan that he’s been needing since he originally got to taste you. 
Relief is what they’re getting right now, and for some reason, you don’t feel ashamed at all with the way you let them. You’re a fucking mess despite Renjun cleaning you up and then promptly dirtying you twice as much. You open your eyes through your gagging at Haechan. 
He pauses at that. Staring down at the way the tears start to run down your cheek, but you’re implying with your slow blinks that you feel good. 
“Fuck, it’s just like the video–” Haechan chokes out, fucking his hips into your mouth at a rapid speed, reminding himself of that video you shared with the girl needing to be filled in every form of the word.
And you know, Jaemin would totally take you up on that offer, forcing all of you to stop just so he can get under you and fuck into that same hole Jeno has claimed, but, well, listen.
He’s so fucking close. He’s been edging himself this entire time and he will be damned to spill anywhere near someone else’s cock. Why? Because he’s way too attracted to everyone right now and he’s a bit concerned about getting off to someone other than you right now.
Which, that’s a hurdle he can deal with when he gets to it. He, instead, takes this opportunity to go for your hand again. Obsessing over the way your weak fingers grip him in an instant, dragging up and down his length with the help of Jeno’s insistent and harsh thrusts. 
He watches the way you moan with stretched lips, the way your legs lift to wrap around Jeno’s waist to try and hold him in place and then– Oh? You gain your composure back and grip his cock like you’re hell bent on milking him dry.
He groans with a smile, sinking down on his knees next to you and letting you work him up just like you’re doing for the others. 
You’re going with your hands, with your mouth, and with that tight little pussy of yours apparently because everything else happens in a blur.
To Renjun, he takes it upon himself to grab that phone and be sure to capture every messy second of what happens. 
First one down is Haechan. Once again, he grips your head and holds your face flat against his abdomen when he releases deep into your throat. His hands shake as he struggles not to suffocate you like this. He could feel you swallow around each spurt of his cum, utterly spending him of all energy before he releases you and lazily throws himself back against your floor in a huff.
Then, Jaemin. Despite being in his head, promising himself that your hand was good enough for him to finish, he couldn’t resist the absence of a cock in your mouth at that point. He immediately replaces Haechan, being far more gentle with the way he fucks himself against your tongue. Didn’t take long at all to have his hips stutter. He was more particular about his release though, snapping his hips back when his orgasm approached and jerking himself off right there against your face. He intentionally misses your mouth, wanting to see it drip down your cheeks and chin and onto those tits that have been long abandoned by now.
Which is a shame because he really likes those.
Then, Jeno, pulling the power moves he always does. 
He waits, and he waits, changing his pace time and time again to prevent you both from releasing. He does this until you’re practically gone. Your eyes roll back, your mouth is slack, and he can tell you have no thoughts at all in your head when you start babbling. Finally, he rubs your clit.
There, he holds himself off as your orgasm sends you straight into another dimension. You tremble through it as your entire body falls limp and out of breath and only then does he pull out and release the most pornographic, deep, moan you’ve ever heard in your life.
The amount of cum he releases on you is fucking obscene. To be fair, you drenched him first but holy fuck does he lay claim to as much of you as he can. 
It spurts up to your tits, some lands on your belly, a majority of it spills directly onto your clit and thighs.
You can’t help it when your fingers move to trace some of it around even more, feeling entirely sticky both inside and out. You help him lay his claim on every other part of you, even going as far as smearing that cum on your clit and gently dipping it inside of you with the tips of your fingers.
Jeno, out of breath and fucking watching you do that takes in a pained breath.
“Don’t” He warns, amazed by you. “Don’t do shit like that.”
You tilt your head with a dazed smile, pushing your fingers in deeper as if to ask “why not?”
He shakes his head, a smile creeping up on his face.
“Always such a damn tease.” 
~
a/n: there was a lot more i wanted to add to this, such as jeno getting his chance to eat and stuff, but i was writing too much so I hope you liked it anyway!
6K notes · View notes
luvf4ngz · 26 days
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HOT LOVE ON THE WING - jason todd.
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Descripton: You’re not upset about your most recent breakup; you’re just upset you have no one to fuck anymore. Good thing your Shakespeare loving best friend, Jason, has a solution to that.
Contents: This Bad Boy Is PACKED With Shakespeare References, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating (Not By Jason Or Reader), You And Jason Are Absolute Fucking DORKS, Good Friend Jason Todd, Best Friend Jason Todd, Self-Indulgent, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Female Reader, HEAVY Banter, Hair-pulling, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting, Overstimulation :), Pet Names, Praise Kink, Dacryphilia, Soft Jason Todd, Dom Jason Todd, Missionary Position, Doggy Style, Cowgirl Position, Nipple Play, Spanking, Rough Sex, Dumbification, Fucked Stupid, Unrealistic Sex, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Spit/Drool, Goofy Giggly Sex, But Also Hard and Fast Sex, Jason Destroys Your Spiderman Panties :(
Word Count: 3131
Author's Note: If it wasn't obvious from the tags this is a repost from my AO3 hehe. This is genuinely my favorite fic I've ever written, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :) <3
“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”
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You threw open the door to his dorm, instantly honing in on his bed and diving into the soft plush. Jason is sitting at his desk, looking up at you from his book with a roll of his eyes at your dramatic entrance. 
“Well, hello to you too.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, but his smile betrays his facade. “It’s nice to see you again, stranger. How long has it been, hm?” He teases, his words alluding to the fact that you’ve been spending less time with him lately in favor of being with your “new boy toy” - as he put it.
You let out a hum into the comforter before moving to your side to properly look at him. “Well I think you’ll be very happy to hear that I’m all yours again, Todd, so there’s no need to be jealous.” You cheekily reply. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. You thought it made him look adorable.
“I broke up with my ‘boy toy’, as you so politely called him.” You giggled out, using your fingers as quotation marks for emphasis. 
“What!? What happened?” Jason’s eyes widened at the news you so casually dropped.
“Apparently he’s been cheating on me for some time. My friend showed me some pictures of him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat at a party so I broke it off with him this morning. Anyways, what’s been going on in Jay-Land?” You grin widely as you gaze at him from the bed.
Your attempt at changing the topic of conversation went unsuccessful. 
Jason sat up from his spot, setting his book down before hurriedly making his way over to you, settling down beside you on the bed.
“Are you okay?”
“Don’t I seem okay to you? I’m just fine, dude.” You tried to reassure him, your voice unwavering and relaxed as your eyes followed him.
“I mean, I guess; but I thought you really liked him.” 
“It seems like you want me to be sad over this. What do you want me to say? ‘Tears seven times salt burn the sense and virtue from mine eyes!’” You gasp out the line dramatically, bringing a hand to cover your heart and the other to wipe non-existent tears from your face, before bursting out into giggles. 
“Don’t you go quoting Shakespeare at me! That’s my role in this friendship!” Jason playfully nudges your shoulder as a wide grin breaks out on his own face.
“The Jason doth protest too much, methinks.” You do your best to put on a snooty tone, but your laughter prevents it. 
“Oh, shut up.” 
Another round of cackles start up between the two of you, and you both relish in the comfortable silence that falls after. 
“You know,” You start, breaking the silence and making Jason’s head turn towards you. “There is one thing I’m sad about.”
“What?”
“His dick game was mad good.” You say with an extravagant sigh. “I’m gonna miss it.” You fake a few sniffles.
“Aw, come on now. There’s other dick out there.” 
“Nah, it’s too much work. I’ll just have to survive without it for now. ‘But I have that within which passeth show; these but the trappings and the suits of woe.’”
“I can’t believe he’s got you so cock-drunk that you’re quoting Hamlet.” Jason tsks out in false disapproval. “He’s not good enough to be depressed for.”
“He’s not, but the sex definitely was.” 
“It couldn’t have been that good.”
“It was.”
“Not better than what I could do though.”
“Ehhhhhh…” You squinch your face together in overplayed disbelief, causing him to fix you with a sharp glare and a hurt gasp. 
“Is that a challenge?” He smirked, his eyes narrowing in competitiveness. 
“I know it not ‘seems’.” 
“You cheeky motherfucker.” Jason smiles out before grabbing your waist and throwing you further up the bed. It causes you to let out a startled yelp as Jason moved to hover over your body.
“Oh? You gonna prove it to me, Todd? You must be overcompensating for something if you get this riled up over such a small comment. You know, if you wanted to fuck me - you could have just asked.”
“Funny, I was about to say the exact same thing.” He leans in to bite your neck, making your body jolt against his.
“Hey! Play nice, Todd.” You scold, slapping his shoulder before wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I’m ever so sorry, madam.” He fake pouts before attacking your face with kisses. 
“Stop!” You squeal out, giggles erupting uncontrollably from the ticklish sensation. You move your hands to his chest, pushing him away from you. “Are you ever gonna get on with it, or are you just gonna keep messing around?”
“That’s a fair thought: to lie between maids’ legs.” 
“Ugh, it doesn’t sound as good when you do it.” 
“Excuse you? I’m a Shakespeare quoting champ!” 
“You’re awfully defensive today, Todd.” You note with a grin. 
“Keep talking, princess, see what happens.” He jokingly warns. 
He pulls back from you to pull his shirt over his head, before going to tug at his pants. You follow after him, sitting up to discard your own clothing. Once you both are left in your underwear, Jason pushes you flat against the bed again. 
“Spiderman panties. Cute.” 
“Shut up. It’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You grumbled out at his observation. You forgot about them and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.
“Mhm, sure, sweetheart.”
Jason starts planting sloppy kisses on your skin, trailing his way down your body until he’s reached your waistband. He shuffles down the bed and lies down between your legs, leaning in to snatch the fabric of your underwear between his teeth and ripping it off your legs. 
“Jay! I liked that pair!”
“My bad, princess, I’ll be sure to buy you some new ones.”
“Better still be spiderman.”
“I’m more Team Cap.” He disserts before gripping your thighs and dragging your core closer to his face; the back of your calves rest on his shoulders. 
His eyes drag down your glistening pussy before he lets out a loud wolf whistle at the sight.
“Ew, Todd!” You laugh, trying to kick him for the action but the hold he has on you is too tight to allow movement. 
“What? I’m just appreciating the view.”
He dips his head down, tongue flicking at your hooded clit before he wraps his lips and around the bud and sucks. He feels your thighs tighten around his head as your own tilts up to let out a loud moan. He replaces his tongue with his fingers, expertly working the nub in circles as he peers up at you. 
Your head is turned to the side, eyes clenched and lips spilling shaky whines. 
‘A damn nice sight’, if he did say so himself.
He continues to stimulate your clit with his thumb, pressing his tongue to your dripping hole to lap up your arousal. 
“Fuck, Jason! You really know how to put the money where your mouth is,” You mumble into the sheets, hips bucking up every once in a while from the pleasure. 
Jason grips you tighter, preventing you from moving. He briefly looks up to note “I think you’ll find I know how to use my mouth quite well”, before moving to continue eating you out.
His actions are faster, more feverous. His tongue runs up and down your sex, your slick coating his taste buds. He savors it - lets out a deep hum that reverberates through your pussy and up your spine, sending shivers through your body. He sucks and slurps at you, so passionate that you swear you can feel your soul escaping through your cunt. The wet smacks do nothing but turn you on more, your thighs pressing closer to his head and acting as earmuffs. 
Your hands move from their place bunched in his sheets to his hair, tanging the dark locks between your fingers and instinctively tugging. It causes a low groan to tear from his throat, the bass and depth of it fueling the uncontrollable hot ache in your stomach. That only makes you want to do it again. The second tug makes a sound that’s akin to a growl, before Jason pauses his movements to stare up at you.
“Careful, princess. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” 
It’s a sight to behold. Jason: heaving, eyes blown, his face shiny from your smeared slick. His mouth is open, panting - his gaze refusing to leave contact with yours. There’s mischief glimmering in the depth of his eyes. 
You don’t reply - only smirk, and yank his head closer to your sex again. 
“Oh, you’ve done it now.” 
His hand moves from your clit to your dripping hole, two fingers pushing their way inside you. His lips reattach to your clit as he starts to move his fingers - fast and rough and leaving you no time to adjust to his intrusion. 
“J-Jesus fuck!” He can feel your thighs twitching, can feel your fingers gripping onto his hair hard in response, and it only spurs him on more. 
His palm smacks against your cunt with each hit, splattering your slick. His fingers move at an unfathomable speed, pads searching for that one spot inside you that will make you see white. 
You’re whimpering and whining above him, senses overwhelmed at Jason’s rough ministrations. It’s too much: the pressure building inside you. It feels like you’re on the edge, senses ready to fall into a never-ending pit of endorphins and fear and exhilaration. There are fireworks inside you, lit and ready to burst and fry all of your sensibilities. 
Finally, it happens - what Jason’s been waiting for. With a slightly tilted angle of his hand and a curl of his fingers, he finds it. He knows because you suddenly tense up; because you let out the most angelic, strung-out moan he’s ever heard; because your walls clamp down on his fingers and a jet of tangy, sweet liquid hits his awaiting tongue. 
God he wishes he could watch you cum over and over and over. He’s gonna think back to this moment when he’s fucking his fist in the future - that’s for sure. The view of you - back arched, eyes teary. The sensation of you - warm and wet and tight against his digits. The sound of you - desperate and high pitched and wailing out his name. He wants it all burned into his brain.
“Jason, Jason!” Yeah, that’s the sound of heaven alright. “Jay! Stop! I came- I can’t!”
Hm?
Oh. He hasn’t stopped pumping his fingers inside you. Oh, well.
“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”
God, you’re shaking. You look like a leaf shivering in the wind, or a cat left out in the rain. Your eyes are glossy and teary and fuck. You look so beautiful falling apart for him. 
Your brain is in shambles, screaming and begging for a reprieve. It’s dizzying, the assault of your sensations. All you can hear, think, feel is Jason.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please!”
“Come on, princess. Just let go. Just one more for me, yeah?”
You can’t tell if the second orgasm hits you like a train or slowly drowns you in its weight. Maybe a mix of both - a crashing of a tsunami that simultaneously relieves your ache and steals your breath. 
You’re sobbing, trembling, gasping for breath and trying to regain feeling from the clouds that seem to have replaced your nerves. 
“You did so well.” Jason cooes. He’s sitting up, suckling your juices from his fingers like you were a decadent 5-star meal.
He moves to lay down beside you, pulling your body to curl into his, back to peppering your cheeks with chaste, affectionate kisses. 
“Fuck, Jason.” You heave out, still slightly out of it. 
“Was that okay? Did I get carried away?” He questions softly, concern lacing the green in his eyes. 
“Yeah, no, that was great.” You quickly reassure him. “I just- wow. I need a moment.” 
He chuckles quietly before holding you close to his body again. “So? Did I exceed your expectations?”
“Don’t get cocky. Hubris was the downfall of Macbeth.” You shuffle closer to him. “Speaking of cocky, is that a dagger - or are you just happy to see me?”
“I’m always happy to see you princess,” Jason croons. “but I am extremely rock hard right now, too.”
Your hands drift down his body, sensually tracing every muscle from his chest to his pelvis, before tugging off his boxers.
You swing your body on top of his, straddling his waist as you begin pumping his cock. 
“Well then” You start, positioning yourself on top of his awaiting member, “O’ happy dagger, this is thy sheath…”
You start to sink down on him as you finish the quote, your words trailing off into a wanton moan. 
“I’d yell at you for saying something so stupid if you weren’t fucking squeezing my cock right now.” Jason manages to huff out. His teeth are gritted, eyes shut as he tries not to cum at the sensation of you wrapped warm and tight around him. 
His large hands settle on your waist as yours plant themselves on his chest for support. 
“You have to admit, it’s clever wordplay.” You mewl, mind fuzzy from the sensation of his dick stretching you out. 
Tingles shoot up your body as the pain dissolves into a delicious fullness. You crave friction, your very core feels like it's aching for it. In fact, you think you’ll go insane if you don’t start moving right now. 
You carefully lift your hips up, before dropping back down again, repeating the motion over and over until you’ve built up a somewhat regular rhythm. 
Moans ceaselessly flow from your lips, interspersed with mumbled swears and curses.
Your head is tipped forward, your hair falling into your face. Jason’s hand comes up to brush it back behind your ear, before gently cupping your cheek.
“You feel so good baby, fuck.” He grunts.
His other hand comes up to undo your bra, releasing your tits to him. Both palms move to cup them, kneading at the soft flesh before working your perked nipples with his fingers. 
You still your movements with a whine, too confounded by the assault of stimulations you were feeling. That doesn’t mean that you’re not still desperate and yearning, though. Your thighs do their best to rub against each other, trying to chase friction despite your inaction. 
It’s only as you rest that you feel how sore your legs have become, enough that you let out a pitiful mewl. 
“Is my pretty baby tired?” Jason muses, while he’s still pinching and rolling your sensitive buds. 
“Mhm,” You moan out in reply. 
He quickly rolls the both of you over, laying you down onto your back again before flipping you onto your stomach. 
You quickly shuffle onto your knees, arching back against him in wait. 
“Good girl,” He laughs out. His palms rub against your cheeks, squeezing the flesh there before pulling back and giving it a slap. 
It earns him a broken moan from your throat, and the view of your ass shaking in desperation.
It only makes him laugh again. “Have some patience, naughty girl.”
He spanks you again, and you keen so high-pitched and pretty that he can only relent to your demands. 
Jason grips his cock and guides it to your wet folds, sliding it up and down before finally pushing in. You welcome him easily, pussy molding perfectly to his thick cock. 
A hand settles on your waist while the other tangles into your hair. He yanks your head back as he starts fucking you hard and fast. 
His hips smack hard against your ass with each thrust, slowly turning the skin there sore and heated. His cock is bullying its way in and out of you, the tip knocking against your sweet spot with a force that repeatedly knocks the breath and thoughts out of you. 
Your eyes are rolled back, brain melted, as drool drips from your lips. 
Chants of “fuck” and “Jay” are the only sounds your mouth remembers how to make now. 
“Just keep saying my name like that, sweetheart.” Jason pants out. 
He can’t believe how good you feel around him. You’re so warm and wet that his cock glides in and out so easy, making it effortless for him to abuse your poor cunt. 
The hand in your hair guides you up to him, back pressed against his sweaty chest as he tilts your head and leans in for a kiss. 
It’s messy with your spit and drool, both your movements uncoordinated and sloppy. 
He fucks up into you all the while, gravity allowing him to hit harder and deeper inside you.
He can feel that you’re close again - your body is twitching against him, your cunt beginning to spasm. 
The hand on your waist reaches to rub quick and hard circles against your clit, and you’re gone.
Your whole body shudders as you soak his cock, before going limp is his hold. It’s an intense buzzing sensation that overtakes you, settling deep in your veins until you’re trapped in a pleasing static. Your head is submerged in sticky syrup that makes it hard to think, so you just indulge in the calming weight of it. 
Jason pulls out and gently maneuvers your dazed body back to the bed, hand working himself to completion before finishing on your stomach - his warm cum splattering on the skin as he lets out a husky grunt.
He stays there, catching his breath for a few moments before he disappears to the bathroom while you come down from your high, washing his hands and grabbing a damp towel to bring back to you. 
He wipes you clean before poking your cheek until your gaze refocuses on him.
“How was it?” He cheekily smirks. 
“I certainly died a lovely death in thy lap,” You chuckle.
“If you can still quote Shakespeare I didn’t fuck you dumb enough.” Jason frowns.
“Awh, cheer up, you big baby.” You reach out to pat his head endearingly, “I change my mind; your dick game is definitely better.”
“YES!” Jason fist-pumps like he just scored a touch-down and you smile at how stupid he looks. “Okay, now you go pee.” He shoos you away. “I’ll change the sheets and we can watch reruns of Gossip Girl again.”
“I would not wish any companion in the world but you.” You fake tear-up, wiping your eyes before giggling the whole way to the bathroom. 
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Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3
- sumi ☆ミ
ミ☆ masterlist
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spacebarbarianweird · 3 months
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OK OK you just gotta hear me on this one,, Astarion and gn reader where reader is little spoon and Astarion can *sense* just how relaxed reader gets. Instead of their pulse racing from his touches they slow down. Muscles relaxed. Happy little sighs.
^^ he can’t handle this btw he’s absolutely fucking bewildered
A Person to Hold
Synopsis: Fluffy post-game epilogue
Tags: fluff
Read on AO3
Masterlist
Headcanons
He looks at you, unable to stop smiling.
"They deserve happiness. We all do. And I will forever be grateful to have found it with you," Astarion says.
You make a step forward with open arms. Astarion hugs you, closing his eyes like a content cat. 
A mere half year ago these hugs scared him. It was weird. It was scary. What did you want? Did you want to hurt him? Did you want his body?
No.
None of that.
You taught him not to be afraid. You hug him daily and if he occasionally flinches you don’t let him go. You hold him in your arms when he has nightmares and kiss away his tears when it's just too much.
"I feel bad keeping you all to myself! After all, I get to see you every night."
"Are you sure? You won't be bored?"
You kiss his cheek and leave. In a few seconds, you look back, trying to see if he hasn’t changed his mind. 
"Darling, I can spend some time with myself. Go on, go and mingle. And I will be there, when you’re ready. I will always be here, my love."
He hasn’t. Astarion sits down beside a campfire sensing its warmth.
He doesn't feel like talking. He didn't manage to make friends with the others and now can sense hostility from them. He is a vampire. His strength isn’t suppressed by the tadpole and apparently once the vampire's master is dead, spawns become lesser vampires. Astarion doesn't feel the difference, to be honest, but he knows people feel something is off with him.
Well, it doesn't matter. What matters is that he feels good. He has never thought his head might be so clear. He can make a working ambush plan in a blink of an eye and it won't lead to a disaster because he actually can think everything through. He can walk on ceilings and walls again, he regenerates before you manage to notice he is wounded. 
He has the world to explore, places to see, things to do. He is going to make up for all these decades of misery, to bury them under the pile of happy memories.
And he has you.
Probably the weirdest thing that could happen to him.
You, who forgave his lies and manipulations, who gave him the second chance when it was the stupidest thing to do. Who made him believe the world isn’t an evil place. 
You are the first person he sees when returns from his reverie. Your breathing soothes him, so does your heartbeat.
Astarion never had anything. Everything he had a right to was stripped away from him including his own life.
But now he has you.
To hold, to kiss, to talk. 
To travel together, to hunt monsters, to be independent adventurers. You are there to save him from nightmares. And he is there to save you from death.
How could he become so happy?
“I am going to sleep, are you with me or do you want to hunt?” he feels a soft “pat” on his shoulder.
How come he has you?
You are a bit drunk and very sleepy.
“Let’s go to the tent.”
“Good, I got used to sleeping with you by my side.”
Astarion looks around as if ashamed of what he is going to do and, having made sure no one sees you, takes you in his hands bridal-style.
You are weightless to him thanks to the vampiric strength. He could walk many miles carrying you and not getting tired.
In the tent, you get to your bedroll and immediately cover yourself with a thick blanket. Then, you open it a little, inviting Astarion to join.
He takes his clothes off and crawls to your side. The night is warm, so are you. But since you have to share your body heat with him, you sleep under the thickest fur blanket. 
You are his and he is yours. If a year ago someone told him that would be his future he would bitterly laugh.
Astarion presses your back to his chest, placing the chin on your shoulder.
Your muscles relax, the pulse slows down. You are falling asleep in his arms.
"My love, thank you" he whispers in you ear, tugging you closer
“Hm?”
“Thank you for finding me."
You squeeze his hand. “You were worth it.”
He doesn’t want to meditate. He wants to hold you like that until you wake up. Astarion concentrates on your breathing and heartbeat. You are already sound asleep.
“Sleep well, darling,” he kisses your cheek. “We still have plenty of things to do together.” 
--
Tag list
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crljhnn · 1 year
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Math tutor
Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader
Summary: Rodrick is continuously unsuccessful in asking you out, so when he finds out that you are now tutoring his younger brother he decides to use this to his advantage. The only problem, Greg doesn't play along.
No physical description of the reader; No use of y/n
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: None
>Posted on AO3 as well<
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“So that means x equals 9.” The answer comes out more like a question.
You've been tutoring Greg for about three weeks now and he finally, for the first time since starting this school year, seems to understand what is going on during math class.
“Yes, that’s right!”
“Really?”
While Greg wasn’t the first Heffley you ever tutored, he was the first to actually listen to what you said and process your explanations.
A few years ago you were taking the same math class as his older brother Rodrick who, back then, quite literally begged you to give him some tutoring lessons. While you didn’t like the idea of spending extra time at school to teach someone math, him apparently being so desperate for help, tugged at your heartstrings, making you give in.
On top of that, him being kind of cute and your teeny-tiny crush on him helped convince you as well. However, this adoration you harbored for about three months at that point, died about 5 minutes into your session.
He was barely paying attention to what you were saying, focusing more on drumming his pencils on the edge of the desk while humming along, using every breath you took to change the subject, mostly telling you about this little band of his. The straw that broke the camels back was when he dared to ask why you wanted to end the session only 15 minutes in, following it up with a „That was fun, let’s study together again soon!“.
Since you felt rather disrespected by that, you haven’t really spoken to him since. The highest form of communication was a forced smile when he would greet you in the hallway. You don’t have any common classes anymore.
However, your fiasco concerning Rodricks tutoring lessons didn’t stop his mom from asking you to tutor her younger son who, unsurprisingly, was falling behind in math as well. The significant difference this time was, that you were being paid. So even if Greg turned out to be just as uninterested in what you were saying as his older brother, it wouldn’t be a complete waste of time, at least for you.
That’s how you ended up in the local library every Monday and Wednesday for the last few weeks, explaining math to the younger brother of your former crush.
Today was different though. Since the library had to close down for a week, because of renovations, you decided to meet at the Heffleys house instead.
The last thing Rodrick expected, when he went downstairs to raid the fridge for snacks, was finding his crush of 3 years sitting in his living room.
Having his eyes fixed on you, he misses the last step, causing him to stumble, managing in the last second to grasp the railing to stop himself from face-planting. The result was him reaching the end of the stairs with a loud crash.
“You surely know how to make a remarkable entrance.”
“Haha yeah, hi.” He nervously scratches the back of his head “What are you… hah… what are you doing here?” ‘Stay cool Rodrick, you got this!’
“What does it look like? She’s tutoring me dumbass” The oldest Heffley son honestly didn’t even realize his younger brothers presence until he spoke up.
“Ah cool, so uhm good luck?” With another awkward laugh, he turns around and runs back upstairs.
Back in his room, he begins to panic, if he would have known that you were here he would have prepared better. But he’s sure he can still wing it.
First of all, he’s calling the band over for practice, I mean, he has his own band, chicks dig that.
He has it all planned out in his head, he will put on nice clothes, a nice perfume, and maybe even a bit of eyeliner as well, surely you’re into that. Then he’s gonna go downstairs, let his band in, and have a little jamming session with the boys.
Then there are two possible ways how the plan could continue to play out.
Possibility one, you hear his band playing from the living room and are so impressed that you just have to go and get a closer look. After that, he is going to invite you to sit in on practice for a bit longer. At the end of the session mesmerized will be an understatement to describe your state of mind and you won’t even have to think about it twice when he finally asks you out on a date.
The second possible outcome of you hearing him play is that you, while amazed, are still too shy to come up to him, so he will take a little break to get himself something to drink. Like one of those movie cliches, he’s gonna come in all sweaty, taking a sip of water and then emptying the rest of the bottle over his face and body to ‚cool himself down. Women find that hot, right? You definitely won’t be able to take your eyes off of him then.
While he is daydreaming about you drooling over him, he simultaneously digs through his closet, trying to find this one specific band shirt, that he bought after overhearing you gushing about their newest album. At the same time as he finds it, he hears his friends pull up, making him change in record speed while leaving his room to go back downstairs.
“Oh my god thank you for finally changing your shirt, the last one was smelling disgusting after you’ve been wearing it for like two weeks straight.” Greg had picked up on Rodricks crush on his tutor instantly, quickly deciding that using this new information to mess with him is the best form of revenge for the years of torture his brother put him through.
“Ugh shut up.” He turns to you “He’s lying you know. I change my clothes an appropriate amount of times. I actually just got ready for band practice. You remember me telling you about my band right? The boys are gonna be here any minute now.” He tries to be casual by leaning against the railing of the stairs but ends up stumbling instead.
“Yeah, I remember,” You don’t seem too happy about it though “But why do you have your shirt on backwards?”
Rodricks head snaps down. Fuck. Greg giggles. An awkward silence follows.
He's saved by the doorbell ringing, followed by the other Löded Diaper members walking in.
“Hi bro!”
“Yo Rodrick!”
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Why do you have your shirt on backwards?”
This time it’s you who giggles.
Sensing how embarrassed their band founder is, the boys take pity on him and rush him away.
After Rodrick explained his plan to his friends, resulting in him getting hyped up by them, they played for a while. After about 30 minutes he concludes that you won’t make the first move, which brings him to execute plan B of his strategy: to take matters into his own hands.
“You got this man!” He jogs back towards the living room, expecting to find you and his younger brother still studying but instead, he is greeted with Greg sitting in front of the tv playing video games.
“Oh is your tutoring session over already?” He tries to sound unbordered but fails horribly.
“Yeah you know I found it really hard to concentrate with this loud music, so we cut today short.” Greg grins up at the oldest Heffley child.
“Listen up you little shit-” he doesn’t finish his sentence. Maybe he could use Gregs help for his own benefit since you always seem to flee when he tries to make a move. It was the same a few years ago.
He had it all planned out back then as well. First, he was gonna ask you out for a study date, well that didn’t quite work out and it ended up more like a tutoring session. However, the result was that you two were spending some alone time together, so you could say that he roughly reached his initial goal. At least he counted it as a success.
Then Rodrick was going to make you fall for him. And how was he gonna do that? By impressing you of course. And what is the best way to impress a girl? Being in a band! Easy.
Well, that didn’t work out, driving you away even further. So maybe he could use his younger brother to get some inside info on what you like in men and what makes you fall for them.
Rodrick is fast to lay out his new plan to Greg.
“And why would I assist you with that? What is in it for me?” As expected, he is not exactly keen on helping his older brother out. So threatening it is.
“Cause if you don’t, you will regret it.” Greg is about to refuse again when he gets an idea. This would be the perfect way to get revenge on Rodrick. He is just gonna spin around everything you say and make his older brother ruin every chance he's ever had with you.
“Alright fine, I’ll do it.”
“Okay spit it out!” You and Greg are seated at your usual table at the library “You haven’t been able to sit still since you got here, what’s wrong?”
“I have a question.” He is not looking at you.
“Okay shoot!”
Greg has been thinking about how to interrogate you about your type without raising suspicions since the day he agreed to help Rodrick. “So there is this girl I kind of like and I wanted to ask you for advice. If a guy would want to go out with you, what would he need to do to stir your interest?”
“Well, every girl is different so-”
“Yeah but what about you?”
That confuses you a bit, but Greg asking you for girl advice was cute enough for you to not overanalyze it further.
“Well me personally, I like sweet and considerate guys,…”
“So what did she say?!” Rodrick was waiting for his younger brother at the front door, attacking him with questions as soon as he was close enough to hear.
“Calm down! So first of all she said, that she likes assholes you know, just your typical badboy!”
“…you know, the kind of guy who listens to what you have to say and really values your opinion. I want someone who actually hears what I say and shows that he is interested in me as a person...”
“She wants someone who is just a natural leader, an alpha, someone who makes decisions for her and shows dominance by interrupting her frequently. Also don’t seem too eager, she said she finds that overwhelming and just too much. Play it cool, act like you don’t care.”
“… so that means I also prefer deeper compliments, not just about my looks. Of course, it's nice to be called pretty every once in a while, but there is nothing worse than a guy repeatedly telling you how attractive you are, without ever appreciating anything else about you! Like is that the only thing about me that you like, my looks?…”
“She also likes to be complimented about her looks a lot, the more the better. Don’t even bother with any other kinds of compliments. ”
“… And lastly, never compliment a woman by putting other women down. The whole ‘Oh you're just not like other girls’ thing is deeply rooted in misogyny. It’s never a flattering compliment when it's only working because you are putting someone else down.”
“And lastly, she wants to feel special, you know, the best compliments include a comparison, for example, tell her how she is prettier than other women!”
Rodrick was hastily writing everything down.
“Thank you so much, I owe you!”
“No problem”
While you forgot about Gregs weird behavior as soon as you go back to explaining math, you are reminded of it again later, when he asks you to have your next session at his house, without giving an actual reason.
The weirdness reached its peak when he, shortly after you arrived at his house the next week, excused himself to quote ‘Look for, uh… you know,… a thing? That’s in my room’, then went to the bathroom instead, and ‘coincidentally’ as soon as he left his older brother showed up.
“Heyyy what’s up?” Rodrick mentally revises the list he learned by heart last night.
‘Be an asshole’ he kicks your water bottle that was standing next to you, “Oops…”
“Rodrick what the fu-”
‘Show dominance’
“Pick it up!”
“Excuse me? What is wrong wit-”,
‘Act like you don’t care’
“Quit talking like I care about what you have to say, what was your name again?”
“Wh- We both know that you know my name, what the fu-”,
‘Compliment her looks’
“You’re hot!”
And lastly, ‘Make her feel special by comparing her to other women’
“Especially compared to the other girls at school”.
A perfect delivery. He did everything that Greg told him to do. But why did you seem so angry? You looked like you were ready to swing at him.
That’s when he saw it. His shitty little brother was watching the interaction through the slightly opened bathroom door, holding a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. When he catches Rodricks eye he slams the door shut.
“I’m gonna kill you!” He is sprinting towards the room his brother is hiding in, banging his fists against the door.
“What the fuck is going on?” You haven’t been so confused in a long time. That’s when it clicked for you too. That’s why Greg was acting so weird, that’s why he asked about YOUR dating preferences specifically. He asked for advice for Rodrick but must have messed with his brother, based on the older ones reaction.
“Rodrick, were you trying to hit on me?” Your voice is heavily laced with disbelief.
The boy stopped his obnoxious assault on the door.
“Did it work?”
You barely hold in your laugh. “Sure.”
“Wait really?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Your smile is kinder now, finding this side of Rodrick, where he is eager to appeal to you, really endearing. Shit, are your feelings for him coming back? You definitely were completely over your crush before, so how did he so easily wrap you around his finger again?
“I would have never guessed that you out of all people were into me, you know, after the little stunt you pulled a while ago.”
“What do you mean?” Rodrick is confused, when did he do something that made you believe that he wasn’t interested in you?
“Our tutoring session? When you completely disrespected me by not even listening to me after you were the one to ask for help.”
“I was listening to you! It's just hard to concentrate when you are so… you! And your voice is so…” Wow he just has this way with words “And I didn't intend for it to be actually studying when I ask you. I just wanted an excuse to hang out with you, maybe impress you a bit, my band being the impressive part by the way, and then later ask you out on a date.” He scratches the back of his head sheepishly.
“And this little scene that played out just now, I guess that was Gregs doing?”
“Yes, since it didn’t work out the last two times I tried to get you to go out with me, I thought this was the best way to do it.”
Oh, your crush was definitely back, and bigger than ever at that.
“Well you never actually asked me out, maybe that would have been enough.”
“Really?”
“I don’t know, guess you have to ask to find out.”
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flrlgreen · 3 months
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mine (suguru getou x reader) + twt prn link
a/n: little getou drabble. i’ve had a bit of writer's block so i haven’t been as active but, i wanted to write something with getou and this is loosely based/connected to this fic i wrote on ao3 (that i’ll probably update soon). 
MINORS DNI
content warnings: EXTREME possessiveness, toxic behavior, unprotected sex, reader has a vagina, breeding, mentioned pregnancy, begging, teasing, crying, dirty talk, the name bad girl is used.
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Apparently, you two didn’t know what ‘no contact’ meant. The same man that you had just told to leave you alone is in your room fucking his thick cock into you. Why? You went on a date with the lead singer of another popular band, Toji Fushiguro. And even worse he overheard your conversation with your girlfriends about how good of a lay Toji was. 
Tears begin to prick your eyes before a single fat tear falls down your cheek.  “You’re dripping so much Angel, was he fucking you this good?” He groaned in pleasure while his heavy balls hit your ass over and over. “Does he fuck your cute little pussy as good as I do? You’re creaming all over my dick, so I’m doing something right aren’t I?” His words were making you clench on his cock even more than you already were. “Answer me.” He demands when you whine instead of answering his question. His free hand presses down on your lower belly making your eyes tear up even more.
“Y-you fuck me so good Suguru.” That’s all you managed to get out, but your response didn’t satisfy him. “Bad girl, fucking someone else. You still belong to me, I don’t care if we are broken up.” He punctuates the end of each of his statements with a deep thrust. “Say you belong to me Baby.” He leans in and whispers in your ear. “Say this is my pussy.” He knows his words are getting to you because you could only manage to let out moans and high-pitched whines no matter how hard you tried to get any words out. 
“This is your-” You say a little too quietly for his taste. “Ah, I can’t hear you.” He teases. “This is your p-” “Louder Baby. Let them know who this pussy belongs to.” He wipes the single tear from your cheek and gives you that stupid ‘poor you’ tone that drives you mad. “This is your pussy Suguru! My pussy belongs to you!” You yell loud enough and you’re almost sure everyone in the apartment complex heard you. 
“That’s what I wanna hear. You don’t belong to that asshole and if you fuck him ever again I’ll have to show you who you truly belong to.” His thrusts are so fast you can’t even keep up. His thick cock dragged against your sensitive walls and was almost enough to make you cum all over his cock. “I want you to remember how good I fuck your little pussy whenever you even think about fucking anyone that isn’t me.” He pants and pulls out and shoves his entire cock back in all at once.
 “I’m gonna make you mine, so you can never leave me. You’re gonna have my baby.” He slammed his pelvis into you until your walls were forcibly stretched to accommodate his thick cock. “Gonna cum – Fuck, you’re gonna be so full of my cum. Gonna be so cute pregnant-” Before he could even finish his sentence he was spilling his warm seed in your cunt. “Fuck.” He groans and watches his cum spill from your hole when he pulls out. His body feels so heavy and he can’t help but bury his head in the crook of your neck, but not before giving you a peck on your cheek. “I still love you so much.”
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colormepurplex2 · 4 months
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Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop | MYG
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▻ Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop ↳ ArtProfessor!Yoongi x Artist/CoffeeShopOwner!f.Reader ⤜ Strangers to Lovers, Cozy Romance ⤜ Coffee Shop/Art AU | fluff, smut ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 8,028 ⤜ Summary: It’s like clockwork; you receive the same online order every weekday morning at eight o’clock: large decaf iced Americano, picked up promptly shortly after. His face has become familiar, as a part of your routine as the hiss of the espresso machine. Until, one day, that routine takes an unexpected turn, and you find yourself getting familiar with more than just his face. ⚠️ Very mild language, panic over student/teacher potential date (reader is a student, but she's the same age as Yoongi, just taking classes later in life than most), oral m receiving, fingering, kissing, mild dirty talk, cum swallowing, confessions of the heart
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A/N: This is part of my 'Heartbeat Melodies' mini-series, where I write fics that are inspired by songs. If you'd like to hear the song that inspired this, you can find it here! A special thank you to @downbad4yoongi & @moonleeai for their amazing beta services!
Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad
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“Large decaf iced Americano,” you call out, barely glancing up from behind the counter.
A deep, familiar drawl pulls your attention, “That would be mine.” It’s only familiar for the fact you’ve heard that voice nearly every day for the last six months.
Your eyes snap up from the tablet, where the next online order has come through, to meet warm brown ones. “I should have known,” you reply before you can think better to bite your tongue. Heat suffuses your cheeks. You pull your lips between your teeth to stifle the groan of embarrassment that begs to be released.
The man chuckles, absently using a knuckle to push up the hornrimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I should be offended or honored by that comment. But, I guess I do come here a lot.”
Nearly every day for the last six months, at least. That’s how often he comes here—to your coffee shop. It’s tiny, barely big enough for a handful of small tables and chairs. But it’s yours, and you’re proud of it.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to seem…” you trail off. Not sure how to finish that thought because you’re not entirely sure how you meant it or why you said it other than the fact you’re a bit frazzled this morning and apparently forgot your mouth filter at home. It was a late night last night for you. It's not an excuse, but still.
He waves a large hand in the air, dismissing your apology. “Please, it’s quite alright. I’ll take it as flattery; could use a little boost to my confidence anyhow.”
That almost makes you sputter in disbelief. There’s absolutely no way this man needs any flattery. Surely, he comes by it in droves. Because, well, he’s honestly so gorgeous it should be criminal.
His hair is fluffy, somewhere between charcoal grey and black, though the warm lighting of your cafe gives it a golden honey halo effect. The eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses are dark swirls of espresso that match his coffee order—a straight nose sitting above soft, pink lips that have a light glossy sheen to them.
As usual, he’s wearing a pressed slack and jacket combo, a cream-colored collared shirt underneath with a bold print tie. His choice of ties is what drew you to him in the first place, and made you pay a little closer attention to the mysterious man behind the large decaf iced Americano.
You clear your throat, daring to be bold, while it seems you’ve no filter to stop you. “Well, if you ever need further flattery, you know where to find me.” It’s clear that you give him an assessing once over, his eyes locked onto yours as you do so.
“Do you paint?”
The question throws you off, nearly making you drop the tablet in your hands. Your fingers flex against the case, your thumb brushing along the glass screen. Busying yourself with reviewing the next order on the screen, you turn, giving him your back as you decide how to answer his random question. You’ve never actually had a conversation with him; this man that you feel like you know yet is a complete stranger.
“Why do you ask?” you deflect as you go through the motions of scooping grinds and swapping out the portafilter for a freshly filled one. However, you know it’s not always polite to answer a question with a question; you’re just not sure how to decipher his curiosity or where it came from to begin with.
The bell above the door rings, and you wince as the espresso machine gurgles and hisses loudly as you mechanically pop a cup in the machine and hit the brew button. The noise fills the quiet space of the coffee shop. It’s not until the cup is filled, you’ve added two lumps of sugar, and you’re grabbing a lid that the man responds.
“There’s paint under your fingernails. Or, at least, what I would guess is paint.”
Glancing down at the cup in your hand, you take in the colorful myriad of flecks coating your skin. The colors fill the grooves of your knuckles and hug around the bed of your nails.
“Double espresso with two sugars,” you announce, ripping your gaze from your hand to the interior space of your cafe. A woman steps around the man, giving you a hurried smile as she holds out her hand to receive the cup. You hand it off. “Have a good day.”
Giving the cafe's inside a quick glance, you ensure all the customers within are taken care of. A college student is busy pounding away at their laptop keyboard in the corner, utilizing your free wifi. A half-empty cup of hot cocoa sits cold and abandoned beside them. A trio of friends sit at your only table big enough to seat more than two people, laughing softly and sipping hot lattes and teas. No one seems to need your attention; except the man still standing there, large decaf iced Americano in hand.
You lick your lips, a nervous habit you picked up after endless stressful nights pouring your heart, soul, blood, sweat, and tears into opening the small cafe. Most believed it would flop; others rallied to your side and helped your dream come true.
“Look, sorry if I’ve overstepped somehow,” he begins, but you shake your head, letting him know he’s not.
Gesturing at the wall behind the man, you finally answer, “In my spare time.”
He glances over his shoulder, eyes zigzagging across the giant unfinished mural covering the windowless back wall of the cafe.
“That?” he asks. “You’re painting that?”
It’s hard to decipher if that’s disbelief or awe coloring his voice.
“I am,” you answer a bit hesitantly.
“Wow!” he exclaims, a giant grin spreading across his face, crinkling his eyes at the corners. “I’ve been meaning to ask after the artist every time I come in and see something new added, I just uh,” he brings his free hand up and rubs it across the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor under his feet, “well, could never bring myself to.” It’s pretty, the way his cheeks take on a flush of color as his eyes cut to you from over the frame of his glasses. “It’s wonderful work.”
“Thank you.” You can’t help your own flush of shyness at his praise.
“So, uh,” he lifts his cup and gives it a swirl, the ice sloshing around inside, before taking a small sip through the straw, “I know you probably see it on the order, but for the sake of propriety, my name’s Yoongi.”
Min Yoongi, to be more precise, you know. It’s a name you’ve read so many times it’s ingrained in your mind. However, it’s still nice for him to offer it to you. Willingly establishing your connection one step further than his coffee order.
You feel so silly tapping the name tag on the front of your apron, but you do it before you can think better of it, mumbling your name as if he can’t read it for himself after you brought direct attention to it. “Sorry, I’m not normally so weird,” you give a shaky laugh, willing yourself to shut up before you chase him off from how awkward you’re being.
Something changes in his demeanor, his eyes taking on a light twinkle that sits somewhere between mischief and wonder. “I like weird,” he offers casually as if that doesn’t make your stomach swoop and your heart beat a little harder. “Maybe we can talk more about your art sometime. Maybe over dinner? Or lunch if dinner is too forward.”
If you were a cartoon, you’re confident your tongue would actually be tied into a jumbled knot right now with you frantically trying to talk around it, a comical scene for sure. Yet, there is no knot, just a thick feeling that you have to swallow past. “Um, yeah, sure. That would be great. Dinner…or uh, lunch. Both. Either one. Though, dinner might be better considering my hours.”
Yoongi glances at the vinyl hours printed on the front window by the door. They’re backward from his vantage point, but you assume he has no issue reading them, considering he turns back to you and asks, “How does seven work for you?”
“Tonight?” The beating of your heart lurches again, and you can barely hear him over the rushing in your ears.
“Yeah, if that’s not too soon. Perhaps next week, if that’s better? I don’t want to come on too strong. Or well, rather, what I mean to say is, don’t feel pressured.” You can tell he’s feeling hesitant now, trying to backtrack and offer you a way to politely decline his offer for dinner tonight. You didn’t mean to come off sounding so put out. You just weren’t expecting his request to be for tonight.
Mentally, you dig through your schedule. You’re not closing today. Marvin comes in at noon to help with the lunch rush, and then you leave at four to make it to your five o’clock class. It would be today of all days that your new art class starts. It’s the beginning of the fall semester at the local university, and you just so happened to decide to take a few art classes they were offering, the first of which starts tonight.
The class should only be around an hour long, with plenty of time to get home and change before the date. Is it a date? Or just strangers getting together to talk about art? Isn’t that what a date is anyway, though?
“Seven. Tonight. That would be great.”
“Okay, perfect. Can I pick you up? Or we can meet here if that works better.”
It’s endearing he’d offer, both picking you up and meeting in a familiar place. Considering you live above the coffee shop, though, it makes no difference. Though, he doesn’t necessarily know that.
“Here is fine.”
“Wonderful. Have you tried that steak house on the corner yet?”
“The new one that opened last week?” He nods. “I haven’t, no.”
“Perfect.” Yoongi smiles. “Here, at seven. Consider it a date.” His smile falters, and his brows pinch, forming a line between them. “Not that I…well, it’s not that…it doesn’t have to be…if you don’t want this to be a date, that’s—”
“It’s a date,” you confirm, giving him what you hope to be a warm smile to ease his mild panic. “I’ll see you then, Yoongi.”
“See you then,” he responds, tacking your name on at the end in his deep drawl. The way it sounds coming from his mouth should be added to one of those spicy erotica audiobooks you may or may not have downloaded on your phone.
Just as Yoongi is leaving, it’s like the world finally takes a breath, and the exhalation that follows brings with it a rush of early morning commuters seeking their morning fix. The everyday bustle and hubbub of the day filter back in, and you’re soon lost to the sway of the shop, coffee, tea, and cocoa. It all comes alive beneath your nimble fingers, much reminiscent of the way holding a brush makes you feel: a thrill of the soul with each pour.
☕☕☕
Yoongi
In all Yoongi’s years of teaching, he’s never been late to a class, especially on the first day of the semester. Yet, he’s nearly fifteen minutes late getting into his classroom this morning. Students are already filled in and scattered around the theatre-style seating. No one says anything. It’s far too early in the morning for smart mouths and snarky remarks about his tardiness. Not that he would expect that from any of the students anyway.
“Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min.” He drops his bag and coffee off on his podium at the front of the classroom. Turning to the large chalkboard behind it, he scrawls his name to the side and then begins to write directions. “We will begin with Chapter 1, ‘Mediums and Forms’, in your textbook. Please read quietly, and I’ll be with you all in a moment.”
The day goes on, class after class, and the familiar monotony of it brings Yoongi a sense of peace. This is familiar territory; he’s in his element, not like this morning in the coffee shop. He felt totally out of control and swept up in the swirl of uncertainties and possibilities.
To say he’s relieved you agreed to go to dinner with him would be an understatement. From the moment he decided to change up his routine to check out the cafe Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about, he’s been hooked not only on the impeccable decaf iced Americano, nor the beautifully decorated and painted interior but on the smiling face behind the counter.
Yoongi feels a bit self-conscious thinking about how much he thinks about you. He’s always been too intimidated by the idea of speaking more than a few passing words to you. It’s like every time he gathered up the courage, it would abandon him at the last moment. Namjoon calls it a crush, Yoongi calls it frustrating.
The whole conversation this morning is a bit of a blur to him. Yoongi swears once he opened his mouth it was nearly impossible to stop the word vomit from gushing out…and the next thing he knew, you were agreeing to a date with him tonight.
The day's last class rolls around, and Yoongi feels much lighter as he steps out of his adjoining office and into the classroom to welcome the new students. A few offer him quiet hello’s, some he’s seen from other art classes he’s monitored across the entire department and fine arts program. 
Turning his back as the last few students filter in, he makes the same spiel he has at the beginning of every class. “Good morning, welcome to Art 320. I’m Professor Min…”
And so it begins, the beautiful dance of teaching and introducing fresh minds to the concept of forms and mediums. Yoongi is sure he could recite the entirety of Chapter 1 from memory now, with as many times as he’s gone over it today.
“What if you decide you don’t like your form or medium halfway through the project?” a student from the front row asks after Yoongi explains the medium and forms requisite for the final project for this class.
“We’re going to spend plenty of time during the first part of the semester testing out different mediums to know which best suits each of your individual tastes and needs. Regarding the form, I recommend choosing something you most likely won’t tire of. Something that means something to you but also isn’t so complex that you frustrate yourself and burn out before you can complete the project. You’re welcome to, at any time, bring me an idea of the form you’re considering, and we can talk about the intricacies and any potential issues that might arise with using it.”
Another question comes from somewhere in the middle, “Can we choose people, too?”
“A form can be anything that inspires you. If that happens to be a person, then of course. However, note that portraiture isn’t covered until Art 322, but I’ll do my best to help if that’s what you choose.” Yoongi glances at the clock, noticing there are only a few minutes left of class. “Let’s take the last few minutes to wind down, pack your things. If you have any further questions concerning your final project forms and mediums, please don’t hesitate to email me. Also, my office hours are open Tuesdays and Thursdays from two to six.”
As Yoongi turns to begin putting his things away from his podium, his eyes slide across the faces of his last class students, trying to cram them into his mind for the sake of remembering. He always likes to be as personable and approachable to his students as possible; knowing names and faces is always a good place to start.
He has to do a double take as his eyes flick over the very top row. The shock is felt throughout his entire body. It’s not that he’s surprised to see a face he already knows. It’s just that he wasn’t expecting it…wasn’t expecting to see you. Mild panic makes him jerk around, hands gripping at the papers on his podium, shuffling them mechanically.
The first thought that crosses his mind is he can’t possibly be going on a date with one of his students. Surely you’re just here to…to what? He turns over one of the papers, quickly scanning his roster that he hadn’t bothered to check yet. It doesn’t take long for his eyes to snag on your name.
Unease settles across his shoulders. He hates to cancel the date, as he was really looking forward to it, but it’s just…not right, right? There’s a line he shouldn’t cross with his students, even one who he is sure is his age and not the typical college freshman. Yoongi knows this because maybe, perhaps, he might have spent his lunch hour googling you and the cafe. You’re in your early thirties, given the birth year that was viewable on one of your social media pages, and own the coffee shop, have for several years now…a full-ass grown adult—the perfect person to date.
Except now you’re his student. There’s some moral code there somewhere, something about the skewed power dynamic. The thought of going on this date should have red flags flashing in his mind. Yet…yet, no matter how much he tells himself to cancel, he honestly doesn’t want to. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt that much, right? A harmless date.
That’s what he’s still telling himself as he dismisses the class a few minutes later. He intentionally avoided looking in your direction, unsure if you’d be comfortable with him acknowledging you as one of his students or not.
Much to his surprise, as the bubble of sound dissipates, a soft voice reaches his ears from a few feet behind him, “Fancy meeting you here.”
Yoongi has been so consumed with his own feelings about going on a date with a student that he hasn’t even thought about how you might feel. Are you about to cancel on him? Does he try to convince you not to?
He slowly turns, the stack of papers clutched in his hands, glasses slipping down his nose, yet he doesn’t want to pry his fingers from the bundle to fix them. “Look, I understand if you’d rather not—”
“I’m fine as long as you are.”
He’s relieved for your interruption, for keeping him from saying those words out loud. “Are you sure? If I had known this morning that you’d be one of my students…” he trails off, because he’s not so sure that would have stopped him after all. Considering he’s wanted to ask you out for at least the last four months.
“I’m glad you asked me. Student or not. I promise not to make it weird if you don’t.” You give him a brilliant smile, coy and full of mirth but light enough to make his heart jerk inside his chest.
“No weirdness, got it,” he agrees, unable to help his own teasing smile.
“So, I’ll see you then?” you ask, hefting your canvas bag on your shoulder. His eyes flick to it, noting the splashes and swirls of fabric paint that cover the outside. Yoongi wonders if you painted it yourself.
He nods, letting his eyes drink you in one last time before you turn to go. You’re still wearing the same jeans and thin cable knit sweater from the coffee shop this morning. Even in such casual clothes, you are stunning. A work of art all your own. He doesn’t stop staring until the door to his classroom shuts behind you.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath. It’s not out of irritation or anger, just an acknowledgement of how truly and utterly he’s got it down bad for you.
☕☕☕
Seven can’t come soon enough. It only took you thirty minutes to get ready, putting on a simple black dress and flats. It’s not too fancy, but it makes you feel far more put together than just jeans and a t-shirt.
At five til, you make your way down into the coffee shop from your upstairs apartment. All of the main overhead lights are off, leaving only the warm accent lights that line the menu board and the display case lights on. Even now, the space smells delightedly of coffee.
It’s kind of funny, the fact that you’re not a coffee drinker. Everyone finds it odd that someone who doesn’t drink coffee would aspire to open a coffee shop. What they fail to realize is you love the smell of coffee. The warm, roasted, mildly sweet notes are what you thrive on, better than any shot of espresso in your mind.
There is a street lamp right outside your shop, flooding the sidewalk with a pool of yellow light. Standing just within the glow is Yoongi, his back to the shop door. You watch as his head swivels, looking down both directions of the sidewalk, completely unaware that you’ll be coming from behind him instead.
The sound of the lock turning over startles him. He jerks around and laughs softly, taking a step back, hand to his chest, as you pull the door open. “Can’t say I expected you to come from inside the cafe.”
“I would have been down sooner had I known you would be a bit early,” you say, locking the door behind you. “I probably should have given you my number or something.”
Yoongi eyes you, his gaze sliding up and down your body like he’s drinking you in. You hope he likes what he sees. “I think I was so excited about the date that I forgot even to ask,” he admits, giving you a sheepish smile when his eyes finally land back on yours. “You look,” —he gives you another quick once over, shaking his head and sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— “gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you preen under his praise. “You look quite handsome, yourself.”
You’re not just saying that to return the compliment, either. Yoongi is wearing the same thing he was this morning, except the tie is loosened, and the top button of his shirt is undone, giving you the slightest peek at his prominent jugular notch.
“Shall we?” he asks, offering you his arm.
You slip your hand into the bend of his elbow, falling into step beside him. The walk to the steak house is short, just enough for pleasant exchanges. He asks how your day at the coffee shop went, and you ask after his first day of classes. Neither of you bring up the fact that you were part of one of those classes.
“I’ve been meaning to check this place out. I’ve heard excellent things.”
Yoongi hums, nodding his head at your words. “I’ve also heard good things, though it might perhaps be biased considering all the praise I’ve heard has come from the owner himself.”
“You’ve spoken with the owner?”
“He’s one of my best friends, actually. This will be the first time I try it out. I kept telling him I’d stop by, but it always got away from me.”
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. “I can’t believe you know Seokjin.”
“Wait, you know Seokjin?” Yoongi asks, surprised.
“I’d say know is a relative term. We get deliveries from the same produce truck. He tried to take my apples one time. I had to set him straight.” That makes Yoongi laugh along with you. “We chat sometimes, mostly about the quality of produce and the best places to get ingredients. I had no idea he was your friend.”
“Small world,” Yoongi says. His smile is warm and inviting. You’re sure you could get lost in it if he’d let you. It makes you wonder what his lips taste like. They have a slight sheen to them like they did this morning. Cherry chapstick? Maybe mint? A nice subtle vanilla?
You’re not sure the last time you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes. But Yoongi has your sides in stitches and your cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much during dinner.
“Oh gosh,” you wheeze between fits of giggling, clutching your stomach. “Ow, ow. Don’t make me laugh again. I can’t take it.” It just makes you laugh even more, the huffs trailing off as Yoongi reaches across the table toward you.
You pry your hands from your abdomen and slide them into his. His fingers are warm against yours, his thumbs rubbing across the backs of your knuckles. It’s a gesture he’s done several times tonight, silently asking for your hands any chance he could.
“Sorry, you just have such a beautiful laugh,” he says. “I could listen to it all day.”
His flattery hasn’t stopped. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two glasses of wine he had with dinner were going to his head. But, he speaks so assuredly and looks in your eyes like you’re truly something special.
Feeling so intimately connected with someone you barely know might be absurd. Yet, you can’t help but feel drawn to him. If you’re being honest, the attraction started long ago, and tonight has just made it blossom into something so much more.
Yoongi has been the perfect gentleman. He’s not tried to railroad the conversation or make decisions for you like other guys you’ve gone on dates with. Whenever a server approached the table, he would defer to you and your needs before his.
“You’ve been so wonderful to me tonight. Please let me repay you with coffee and dessert. If you’re up for it.”
Yoongi squeezes both your hands before letting them go and sitting back in his chair. “There is no need to ‘repay’ me,” he says, emphasizing the word repay. “But, I wouldn’t say no to a date after this date, say in fifteen minutes, coffee and dessert?”
“Fifteen minutes? Coffee and dessert?” You give him a thoughtful look, tapping your fingers against your chin. “Hmm. I think I’m available.” You both break into more fits of soft laughter, contrasting so highly to the high energy from before; it’s intimate, if laughing can be such a thing.
It’s easy being with Yoongi; he’s attentive and curious. “What made you want to open a coffee shop?” he asks as you unlock the door to the cafe.
“I liked the idea of having a space that could cater to people from all walks of life. Businessmen in a hurry? Get it to go. Students needing a place to study? I have a quiet corner for that. College professor looking for his daily decaf Americao fix? Would you look at that? I got that covered, too.” You usher him inside, closing and locking the door behind you. “It also doubles as a great place to have a private coffee and dessert date after a lovely dinner date.”
You watch as Yoongi looks around the cozy space, his attention ending on the mural wall. “What’s your favorite kind of coffee?”
“Would it be weird if I said I don’t like coffee?” you ask.
He glances at you from over his shoulder. “Really?”
You shrug. “I love the way it smells, though.”
“Acrylic?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward the mural.
“Good eye,” you assess, stepping behind the counter to start making the coffee. You grab two pecan cinnamon twirls from the dry storage where you keep extra treats to take up to your apartment at the end of each shift and pop them into the small convection oven along the back wall. “You teach art, but it might be presumptuous of me to assume you also create. So, do you?”
“Not nearly as much as I’d like to. Pastels and charcoal are my favorites to work with. I like the mildly messy, chaotic feel of them. There are few things better than the feeling of taking something so uncontrolled and turning it into a thing of beauty.”
“Charcoal, huh?” Your mind instantly goes to the framed collection of pieces you have in your apartment upstairs. “I can appreciate that.”
“Maybe I can show you sometime.” Yoongi turns from his appreciation of your mural to watch you work behind the counter. He gestures to a few frames hung up on either side of the giant menu on the wall. “Arfé, right?”
You glance up, moving with automated motions to load the portafilter into the espresso machine. “Oh,” you laugh. “Yeah. An experiment. I wanted to try something new and needed some new decor. I thought it was appropriately on theme.”
The half-dozen pieces are all made with swirls of various shades in brown and tan and depict a mix of cups, mugs, bags of grinds, lumps of sugar, and piles of roasted coffee beans.
“Very appropriate. They’re lovely. You’re an exceptional artist.” You’ve lost count of the amount of compliments Yoongi has paid you tonight. You might have been the one flattering him this morning, but it seems he’s making up for that now.
“Thank you. Truly. That means a lot coming from you.” The hiss of the brew machine fills the air, and the soft gurgle of espresso trickling into the small mug follows. “One decaf Americano for one of my best customers,” you say, carefully carrying the steaming cup over to a table beside Yoongi. “Please, sit.”
Yoongi settles at the table, bringing the cup of coffee up to his nose and giving it an appreciative sniff. “Wonderful,” he murmurs before taking a tentative sip. “Thank you, that hits the spot.”
“If you think the Americano is good, wait until you try this,” you say, scooping the twirls out of the oven and onto a plate. They’re perfectly warm and gooey. “You’ve never tried any of our pastries, have you?”
You sit across from him. The table is small enough that you could reach out and cup his cheek if you wanted, and set the plate on the table before Yoongi. He whistles low, “Wow, these do look amazing. Maybe I’ll become a pecan twirl and coffee guy every morning instead.”
Your eyes track his movements, watching as his fingers pinch and slightly sink into the edges of one of the twirls. Some of the warm glaze and cinnamon sugar filling squishes from between the layers.
Yoongi’s lips part and the tip of his tongue peaks over his bottom teeth as he brings the pastry up to take a bite. The moan he lets out surprises you both. His eyes flutter before landing on you and going wide. He chews methodically, his gaze not leaving yours. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips before he swallows.
“Well?” you ask, settling your elbows on the table and leaning into him, expectant.
The smile that tugs at his lips is coy. “Might be one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.” There is a heat in his gaze as his eyes search yours. “What other surprises do you have up your proverbial sleeve for me?”
“Now, if I told you, they wouldn’t be surprises anymore, would they?”
That makes him laugh. “Fair point. You know,” he glances around the coffee shop, “I never knew just what it was about this coffee shop I loved so much, but I think I’ve figured it out.”
“Yeah?” you say, feeling positively giddy.
“Mhm. So,” he mirrors your pose across the table, his elbows nearly touching your own, fingers toying with yours where they’re folded in the air in front of your face, “is it too soon to ask you on a second date?”
“I thought this was our second date.” You raise a teasing eyebrow, a smile quirking on your lips.
“A third then,” he offers, eyes hopeful.
Of course, you want to say yes. And in the spirit of trying to be coy and playful, you lean in with the full intent of showing him instead of telling him how much you want to go on another date.
Yoongi’s eyes flicker to your lips, watching as you deliberately lick them as you lean in a bit closer. Acceptance lies within their dark depths, a flash of hunger at the impending response that’s only a breath away.
As you advance, your elbows slide on the table, accidentally knocking the coffee cup. Liquid goes everywhere; it floods over the table and pours off the side…right into Yoongi’s lap.
“Oh fuck!” you yell, jumping up from the table and rushing around to his side. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Do I need to call an ambulance? Does it burn?”
Yoongi pushes back from the table, holding his arms up off his lap as he assesses the mess. “No harm done. It was already cooled off. It's just a bit of a mess, that’s all. I’m fine,” he laughs. “Truly, I promise. Do you have any towels or anything?”
“Oh god, your shirt, it’s going to stain,” you lament, staring at the dark splotch soaking through above his trousers. “Towels? Yes. Yes. Okay. And some baking soda. Come on, let’s hurry. Again, I’m so sorry!”
“Should we clean this up first?” he asks, motioning at the coffee-covered floor.
“I can mop in the morning. Please,” you fret, guilt making you a bit frantic and flustered.
Yoongi lets you lead him up the stairs in the back that go to your apartment. “You live here?” he questions. “No wonder you were coming out of the coffee shop earlier. That’s very cool.”
You make a noncommittal sound. “It’s cool if you like the smell of coffee and don’t mind rising early every day to open shop.”
It’s so hard to think right now, your mind solely focused on cleaning up the mess you’ve made of Yoongi’s clothes. That’s what you get for trying to be sly and answer his date question with a kiss. You’ll be lucky if he still wants that date now, surely.
The bathroom is barely big enough for the two of you. You insist Yoongi sit on the lip of the tub while you dig under the sink for the baking soda that you use for cleaning and removing your own coffee stains.
“Hey,” Yoongi says softly, grabbing your attention. You glance at him over your shoulder, bottom lip clamped between your teeth in an effort not to fall apart entirely. “I promise it’s okay, alright? You don’t have to stress over it. It’s just an accident. It's a pretty funny one if you ask me. If I’d have known we were getting wet on the first—I mean, second date, I would have planned accordingly.”
His words hang between you, full of static and charged with intention. He’s trying to lighten the mood…and it’s working. It’s also making you feel a certain kind of way. Words shouldn’t have the power to do that. Yet, here you are, flustered for a whole different reason now.
“Date’s not over yet,” you respond, unsure where the bold attitude came from, but you’ll take it. His eyes flicker with something like surprise mixed with desire, though it’s gone before you can really be sure. “Do you mind?” You gesture to his shirt. “It’ll be easier if I can soak it in the sink.”
Slowly, Yoongi undoes the buttons on his shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. Somehow, you weren’t expecting him to be naked underneath, but every open button reveals another swath of flesh. He shrugs out of the shirt, revealing a toned chest and taut belly. His nipples are hard, dark chips, standing out in contrast to his smooth, creamy skin. Yoongi is absolutely breathtaking.
In fact, you have to remind yourself to breathe, taking in a large lungful of air that’s so much it makes your chest ache. He holds the shirt out to you in offering. Your fingers tremble lightly as you take it, quickly turning back to the sink and the distraction of scrubbing at the stain.
Reading over the garment tag quickly, you make sure what you’re about to do is okay. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on your back, like heated dagger points pricking beneath your skin. You turn on the water, letting the tap run until it’s hot, before quickly swishing the area of the shirt covered in coffee under it. The hot water alone makes a world of difference, the dark liquid swirling away down the drain.
“Do you want my pants, too?” Yoongi asks, startling you.
Your eyes flick up to the mirror, looking at him through the reflection. He’s talking to you, but his attention is zeroed in on your backside. Suddenly, you’re intimately aware that your dress has ridden up dangerously high. You can feel the cool air of the bathroom kissing the crease between your thigh and asscheek.
Turning off the water, you slowly turn to face him. Your chest rises and falls as you try to take deep, even breaths, but with the way your heart is revving inside, it’s impossible to do so. “Let’s see the damage,” you say lightly, raising an eyebrow in question, giving him a chance to call you off.
When he doesn’t comment further, you close the distance to where he’s sitting and ease down onto your knees. You mentally tell yourself it’s so you can get a better look at the coffee that’s saturating the dark fabric, but you know better than that.
Being so close to him, you can feel the heat of his body. His chest rises and falls as rapidly as yours, and when you look up and meet his gaze, there is no mistaking the fire that you see blazing there. “Don’t think I forgot you still haven’t answered my question,” he murmurs, lips barely moving as he watches you.
You lift a hand, hooking your index finger under his chin and using it to angle his face toward yours. “I’d love that,” you respond, your lips brushing over his with every syllable.
He kisses you. Or maybe you kiss him. It’ll be something you tease each other over for many years to come. You open yourself to him, welcoming the glide of his tongue against yours. The kiss tastes mildly of coffee, yet for the first time in your life, you don’t mind the flavor.
“For me to take my pants off, or the date?” he teases, alternating between nipping and consuming kisses. Yoongi’s hands frame your face, holding you to him as he continues to ravage your mouth.
“Mm, both,” you manage to get out. “Definitely both.” Sliding your hands down his torso, you marvel at the softness of his skin and the already very prominent bulge that your fingers dance over as you try to get a grip on the button to his slacks.
Yoongi breaks away from the kiss long enough to help you with his pants, standing up from the edge of the tub and bringing you up with him. He toes off his shoes, leaving his pants puddled on top of them. “Good answer,” he chuckles.
You let out a tiny squeal as he wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and hauls you up, your legs automatically winding around his waist. Thick erection pressed right against your panty-covered pussy, he slowly walks you out of the bathroom and into your adjoining room. You land on the bed with a soft oomph, Yoongi following you down. His weight is a comfort, settled over your body in a warm, hedonistic embrace.
“I’ll change classes,” you pant, flexing your hips against his. “As long as our next date is to an art gallery.”
“Is it weird for that to turn me on?” he responds, groaning as you roll your hips against him again. “The art part, not the dropping classes part. You don’t have to do that if it’s too much trouble. I know your schedule must be pretty set with the cafe.”
You press your hands against his chest, giving him a gentle push until he’s rolling over and you’re hovering over him. “I’ll make it work. I want to make it work. Everything tonight,” you pause and sit back on your heels, dragging your hands along his torso as you do, “I want more. You’re driving me crazy in the best of ways.”
“Says the woman who’s been running through my thoughts for the last several months now.” Yoongi’s lips part in a gasp, turning his last word into a breathly plea as you trace the tips of your fingers over his straining erection. The fabric of his grey boxer briefs is slightly sticky when you brush your thumb over the head.
“It reminds me of making art,” you casually say, curling your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and tugging until he lifts his hips and lets you drag them down. You toss them to the side, marveling at the glory now resting against his belly. Yoongi’s cock is a gentle upward curve, all smooth steel and thick veins. It throbs, bouncing against his stomach, leaving behind a thick smear of precum. “The way you make me feel.”
“Art?” he asks, breathless. His eyes flutter behind his glasses, his chest hollowing as he sucks in ragged breaths.
“Being with you gives me the same feeling as viewing a Duncanson or a Matisse, calm and full of joy. Though, you can also make me feel the chaos of a Kandinsky when you touch me.” To emphasize your words, you wrap your fingers around his girth, angling it up, watching the emotions on his face. The tip of his tongue works at the corner of his mouth, lips parted with every pant and soft moan. “Is this okay?” you ask, leaning down and gently blowing over the leaking tip before tentatively giving it a kitten lick.
“More than,” Yoongi moans. His eye slide closed as you wrap your lips around the head and suck. The flavor of him bursts across your tongue. You can’t help but moan yourself at the idea you’ve made him like this, hard and leaking.
Working as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, you delight in the shuddering convulses you can feel from his body as he loses himself in the sensations you’re bringing him. Yoongi always seems like such a collected individual. He still appeared so well-kept even when he stuttered over his words asking you on the date this morning. Now, though, he’s unraveling into a puddle of debauchery.
It’s a satisfying feeling, similar to when you get into a perfect rhythm when working on a project, bringing him to the edge. You work your mouth and hand in tandem, never leaving an inch of his cock free of your touch.
“Mmm,” you moan, the head of his cock resting in the back of your throat. Yoongi jerks under you, half raising onto his elbows, his eyes zeroing in on where you’re wrapped around him.
His fingers twist into the duvet, bottom lip puffy and flushed as he worries it with his teeth. “I’m going to cum,” he grunts, throwing his head back and moaning his pleasures, deep and throaty.
You quicken your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you suck in earnest. Yoongi cries out a second before liquid warmth floods your mouth. It’s greedy, the way you swallow and continue to lave your tongue over him, eliciting tiny tremors and more moans.
“Just like art,” you whisper, finally letting his cock slip from between your lips. You’re riding your own high, wet and throbbing between your thighs. You can feel the ache in your clit, begging to be touched. All it would take is a few seconds, a few well-placed swirls of your fingers, and you know you’d be floating in orgasmic bliss.
Before you can even think of bringing your hand between your thighs to find relief, Yoongi is sitting up and urging you backward. Your back hits the mattress, and he settles on his side beside you. Somewhere between there and here, he pulled off his glasses. Despite having just found his release, his eyes are still so full of hunger and desire.
“May I?” he asks, pressing a hand against your inner thigh. You nod, eyes locked with his as he slowly trails his hand upward until his fingers brush over the soaked fabric of your panties. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to capture your mouth in a languid kiss. Your lids flutter closed, consumed as you are by his touch.
Yoongi takes his time, toying with the edge of your panties before tugging them down past your knees. They pool around your ankles as he pushes your thighs apart, exposing your weeping pussy to the air of the bedroom.
“Yoongi.” His name is half moan, half curse as he brings his hand back up and cups your heat. The meat of his palm rests against your clit, right where you need to be touched, but the pressure isn’t enough to satisfy.
“An exquisite work of art.” His lips strum against yours, plucking and teasing just the way his fingers do through your wetness. The tips of his fingers briefly kiss your clit, dancing away before returning; a slow build of decadent pleasure.
It’s not above you to beg. “Please. Yoongi, please!”
“Open your eyes, look at me. Let me watch you fall apart so I can brand it into my memory.”
You snap open your eyes the exact moment he slides two slender fingers into your pussy, thumb finally giving the needed pressure to your clit. You’re so worked up that your body pulses around the intrusion, a tiny fluttering orgasm rippling through you.
“Fuck,” you whimper.
Yoongi gives you a wicked, knowing smile. “It’s not over yet, beautiful,” he assures you in a whispered promise.
His fingers are long, able to reach the perfect, special place inside you. As he strokes his fingertips, moving them in an undulating wave, his thumb swirls in a circle around your clit.
The next orgasm is less surprising, building to a heightened peak that has you crying out as you careen over the edge, entirely at Yoongi’s mercy. “Yoongi, fuck!” you babble, your whole body alive with sensations of pleasure.
“That’s it,” he coaxes. “So beautiful.”
Your body shudders around his hand, his fingers slowing down their rhythm until you finally recover. The slide of his fingers along your walls as he withdraws makes you wish he’d put them back in…or maybe something else. The bereft feeling lasts only a moment before Yoongi gathers you into his arms. He’s completely naked, and you’re still wearing your dress, but you feel just as exposed as he is…only, it’s your soul on display for him instead of your body.
You wait for the feeling of vulnerability to filter in, that broken feeling of uncertainty. But, it doesn’t come. The only thing you feel is complete and utter content. It’s not even the post-orgasmic bliss that’s clouding it, either. No, there’s plenty of that, but it feels different; he feels different.
“Yoongi,” you begin, resting your cheek on his chest. You want to confess to him, but the words get choked in your throat. Is it too soon? Are you completely crazy? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Fuck. Here goes nothing. “This feels good, really good. Is it too soon to say…?”
“Too soon to say?” he prompts.
You absently trace haphazard swirls and lines across his chest, trying to think of how to word it. “I, well…”
“Too soon to say that I think possibly, maybe, I’m falling for you?” You look up at him, surprised by his words. Yoongi looks at you with so much warmth and affection in his eyes. “Because that’s exactly how I feel, too.”
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puppy-steve · 5 months
Text
steddie | wc: 1,425 | cw: none | songfic | ao3
have some hurt/comfort, cj style. happy thanksgiving even though it's already 1am my time <3
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The kitchen is so thick with tension you could cut right through it like butter. Eddie’s washing the dishes and Steve’s putting away the leftovers from dinner. They haven’t spoken a word to each other the entire night, not since that afternoon when they were screaming at each other.
Other people would say that they don’t remember what or who started the argument in the first place, but Steve knows exactly what happened. All because he let his dumb mouth get ahead of his brain. And it’s not like he hasn’t tried to apologize—he tried the second the words left his mouth and then five more times after that but Eddie wasn’t having any of it.
Which is fine, he’s allowed to stew in his hurt feelings for as long as he likes, but Steve is worried that this might be the first time they go to bed with one of them still mad, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that.
He shuts the fridge and turns around to lean against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, letting out a quiet sigh. Eddie’s back is turned to him so he can only see the movement of his shoulders as he scrubs the dishes harder than he ought to.
He’s still pissed, then.
Steve lets out a quiet sigh. He’s the one that started this whole mess so he’s got to be the one to fix it. He needs to come up with something to get Eddie to at least look at him.
He stands there for a few more minutes as he thinks but then the light bulb in his brain flicks on and he leaves the kitchen.
Eddie’s probably washed this bowl three times already but he doesn’t care. He’s still worked up from his and Steve’s fight earlier, he could drop the bowl and it could shatter in the soapy water and he wouldn’t even blink an eye.
How dare he, Eddie thinks bitterly, rinsing the soap off and placing the bowl in the dish drainer a little harshly. How dare he think he has the right to even insinuate.
All he wanted was to spend the extra little bit he’d had left over from his paycheck on some new mini’s he’d seen down at the bookstore and a couple of books that had been on his list for ages. He made sure to put back enough to cover his half of their rent and bills. He was careful.
But Steve still had to go and open his stupid rich boy mouth.
Eddie feels the familiar prickle of white hot anger on the back of his neck and he takes a deep breath to calm himself. It’s not his fault that he grew up poor. Wayne did what he could to support the both of them on his single paycheck every month, but that money only went so far. There wasn’t enough to spare to open an account with the bank, so they just went without.
Unlike the Harrington’s, who apparently had accounts open across multiple cities and even a couple overseas.
Steve’s father had drilled the importance of wealth management into him from an early age and made him use his first allowance to open a savings account at the age of ten. His boyfriend had a goddamn retirement account by the time he was eighteen.
So when Steve goes and assumes that Eddie doesn’t know how to handle money just because he wants to splurge for once and buy something he enjoys, Eddie thinks that his anger is a little more than justified.
Eddie’s eyes sting with oncoming tears and he blinks them away with a shake of his head. He doesn’t need to cry right now.
As he reaches for another dirty plate, music suddenly fills the kitchen from the Bluetooth speakers on the counter, soft piano trilling and the melodic humming with an R&B beat.
He freezes when arms slowly circle his waist from behind and Steve rests his chin on his shoulder.
Some people live for the fortune
Some people live just for the fame
“Dance with me,” Steve murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Eddie’s shoulder.
Eddie suppresses a shiver and the instinct to lean back into him. “I don’t-”
“Eddie.”
Another kiss, this time under his ear. Fingers gently trace along his arm.
Some people think
That the physical things
Define what’s within
Eddie’s walls crumble like sawdust when Steve laces his fingers between his own soapy ones. He lets Steve pull him away from the sink and they slowly sway in the middle of their kitchen. He can see straight into the living room, where they’ve already set their Christmas tree up in the corner by the window, fully decorated even though it’s still November. They’ve got a hodgepodge of decorations and knick knacks already set on various shelves and tables with Christmas lights strung in almost every doorway.
As they dance in a slow spin, their cheeks pressed together, Eddie thinks back to how much fun they had setting all of it up. How Steve held the mistletoe above his head every chance he got just to be able to kiss him. All of his remaining anger slowly melts away and he’s left with the overwhelming feeling of how much he loves this man.
Some people want diamond rings
Some just want everything
But everything means nothing
If I ain't got you, yeah
“I’m sorry,” Steve says, and he sounds like he means it. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, when I said you should be more responsible. You were right. It’s your money and you’re the only one who gets a say in how you spend it.”
Eddie sighs and tightens his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, too. I got defensive, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did. I should’ve listened to you when you tried apologizing the first time.”
Some people search for a fountain
Promises forever young
Some people need three dozen roses
And that's the only way to prove you love them
Eddie pulls back a little and looks at Steve for the first time in what feels like ages and is flooded with emotions that make his chest tighten when he sees the soft smile on his boyfriend’s face and the love in his eyes.
Eddie cups his cheek and leans in to press a soft kiss to his equally soft lips before resting his head on Steve’s shoulder with a soft sigh.
Some people want it all
But I don't want nothing at all
If it ain't you, baby
If I ain't got you, baby
“Are we really slow dancing to Alicia Keys?” he asks after a moment. Steve shakes with silent laughter and Eddie gently smacks him in the shoulder. “It’s a serious question, Stevie. I need to know if it’s a contender for our wedding playlist.”
It’s Steve’s turn to freeze now and Eddie can’t hold back his giddy smile when he pushes him back by the shoulders and gives him a wide-eyed look.
“Wedding playlist?”
“Well, I was planning to wait until Christmas to pop the question, but. Yeah. I even got a ring.”
Steve gapes at him like a fish before yanking him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt. It’s more teeth than lips because they can’t stop laughing long enough, but they eventually get a hold of themselves when Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s neck again and presses close, thier lips slotting together seamlessly.
“So I take it that’s a yes?” Eddie asks between kisses.
Steve nips at his bottom lip. “Only if you learn to stop kicking your socks off in your sleep and leaving them under the covers at the end of the bed.”
“They twist around my toes, Stevie,” Eddie pouts, trailing kisses along Steve’s jaw. “Makes ‘em feel like pigs in a blanket.”
Steve tilts his head back to give him more room, the music completely forgotten. “Then don’t wear them to bed at all.”
“But then my feet will get cold. Do you want me to put my icicles on your legs, Steven? Would that make you feel better?”
Steve throws his head back for a completely different reason and groans. “You’re going to be even more difficult once we’re married, aren’t you?”
Eddie grins against Steve’s throat. “Absolutely, oh husband of mine.”
Some people want diamond rings
Some just want everything
But everything means nothing
If I ain't got you, you, you
permanent taglist: @yournowheregirl @judasofsuburbia @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy @scarcrossdlvrs @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd @sidekick-hero
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leighsartworks216 · 6 months
Text
Just A Trim
Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader
I had this idea like this morning or last night, I don't remember. And then I was not physically/mentally able to write until the sudden Need To Write hit me and I cranked this out
When writing this, I noticed I kept making references to Tav being shorter, but bc I want this to be enjoyed by everyone, I took them out. Pls let me know if I missed any instances of it tho
Ending loosely inspired by this scene from Big Fish
Warnings: scissors, brief references to low self-worth, anxiety, pure fluff
Word Count: 1,287
Main Masterlist
First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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Astarion didn’t trust his hair with just anybody. Pulling on it during sex? Okay. Playing with it while cuddling? It takes him a bit to actually trust someone enough to enjoy it. Washing it? Absolutely off the table. Cutting it? Out of question, and he’d probably insult you for asking.
So when he came to you, frowning and grumbling, and struggled through grit teeth to ask if you would please help him cut his hair? That meant something.
You tried not to let your glee show as you dropped whatever you were working on and followed him into your shared bathroom. He plopped onto the edge of the tub like a pouting child who’d just got a good telling-to after misbehaving. He held the scissors up for you to take.
“If you cut my ears, darling, I’m going to make you regret the day you were ever born.” He glares over his shoulder as you step into the tub behind him, rolling up your sleeves and taking the scissors. “And don’t you dare do anything funny. All I need is a simple trim. I assume you’re capable enough to manage that?”
You smiled as he growled at you like an annoying customer. You lean down and gently kiss his cheek. “I promise I’ll only take a little bit off.”
There’s an unspoken conflict on his face. He’s not sure he actually wants you to go through with this… But he’s sort of out of options. Any salons nearby closed before the sun went down, and he definitely did not trust any of your past traveling companions to do the job. No. He’d just have to trust you. He sighs and faces forward. “Just… be careful.”
“I will, my love.”
It had been difficult to notice during the course of your adventure together, but his hair did grow. Not as fast as yours, but curls that delicately curled around the edges of his ears now almost completely covered them, like strangling vines. You’d heard him cuss too many times when a strand got caught in his earrings and tugged when he went to brush the hair from his face. The curl that lay persistently over his forehead now brushed his upper eyelid. Very frequently, he would huff and fight to push it back, with nothing to show for it.
With gentle, smooth motions, you combed your fingers through his hair. Your nails lightly scratched at his scalp, running from his hairline to the nape of his neck, and carefully untangling any knots all the while. You heard his quiet sigh, and saw his shoulders begin to relax. You pressed a kiss to his head.
Assessing his full head of hair, you figured out where to begin. You separated out a section, trying to determine how long it used to be, so you knew how short to cut it now. He tensed again.
“I’m going to start cutting it now, okay?” He hummed, short and anxious. You pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Relax, dear. I’ve got you.”
“It’s difficult to when you have the means to turn me into a glorified clown.”
“But I won’t.”
He sighed. “I know.”
You wait for him to relax again, and he nods slightly. You take the scissors to the first section of hair. With a shink, a small clump of hair falls into the tub. The sound certainly doesn’t fill him with confidence, but he trusts you won’t mess it up too bad…
You begin talking about your friends, about the letters they’ve sent lately keeping you updated with their lives. Apparently, Gale sent some interesting information regarding potential cures for his vampirism - though most of it was only on temporary remedies. “In good time,” you’d assured him when he groaned. Stepping into the sun again would be nice, but an end to his sanguine hunger would be better.
It takes a while to cut all his hair, especially with how meticulous you’re being. You give special attention to the hair around his ears, making sure not to nick him. You step out of the tub and in front of him while you cut the stubborn curl there, where you catch it before it can fall into his lap, and deposit it in the basin. He can’t help watching you then. You have such determination and focus on the task at hand. Only once the curl is trimmed do you actually see him staring, and you smile and peck his lips. He rather enjoyed that.
As you go through each section, you consistently run your fingers through his hair. It’s the most relaxing bit, and he’s certainly glad he asked you for this. He would die before Gale ever got his grubby mitts anywhere near his hair.
By the time you finish, his eyes are closed. He listens to your chatter, to the random tunes you hum, to the way you hold your breath as you make a cut. It’s rather peaceful, despite the underlying nervousness to it all. He can’t see himself. All he can hope is you make him look nice.
You brush your fingers through his hair to knock loose any stray strands. It falls like snow by your feet. Satisfied with your work, you begin running water for a bath, kicking the hair down the drain before you plug it to fill the tub.
“Done, love?”
“Mhm!” You lean around to kiss his cheek again. “You can take a bath, wash all the hair off, and I can get you some fresh clothes.”
He grins. He stands and turns to face you, taking your hands in his and running his thumbs along your knuckles. He’s worried, anxious, but he tries not to let it show. “How do I look?” he asks with a careful bravado, tilting his head to the side, chin upturned, like a haughty nobleman.
You let go of his hand to cup his cheek. He automatically leans into it, mask slipping ever so slightly to reveal his worry. “You look beautiful. I think I did a rather fine job.”
“‘Rather fine?’ Oh, darling,” he lilts, “for your sake, I’d better look the spitting image of perfection.”
“You always do.” It’s earnest. A solid fact to oppose the teasing of his words.
He cannot prevent the true smile that tugs the corners of his mouth as he leans in to claim yours, tasting and nipping and teasing with soft sighs of content. You are much too good to him, but he doesn’t say that out loud, lest you lecture him and treat him to endless spoils until he believes it himself.
He reluctantly pulls away, but his lips continue to brush yours. “Bathe with me.”
You open your eyes to study his face. “Are you sure?”
“Undoubtedly.”
A mischievous spark glints in the corner of your eye as you grin wickedly. “Do I get to wash your hair?”
He chuckles. “Don’t push it.”
You hum. “Would you wash mine?”
“Whatever you want, my love.”
“I want… to turn off the tap before our bathroom floods.” You pull away and he has to laugh as you wade through the water to stop the steady stream. The warm water reaches just below your knees. You sigh, but the annoyance is dampened by your grin. “Look what you’ve done - distracting me like that. Now my pants are all wet.”
“All wet?” He makes a show of looking you up and down. “I don’t know, love. I see quite a few dry spots.”
Without warning, he steps into the large tub, still in his own clothes, and grabs you, pulling you down with him into the water. Your laughter fills the house. Astarion has never been more in love.
---
Tag List:
@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @tototini @teardropcup @ashrio20 @bambamwolf87 @astarion-imagine-archive
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2chopsticks2eyes · 1 year
Text
Dance For Us
Tumblr media
2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist
Pairing:
Lee Minho/Lee Know x Fem Reader
Lee Yongbok/Lee Felix x Fem Reader
Hwang Hyunjin x Fem Reader
Lee Yongbok/Lee Felix x Hwang Hyunjin
Themes: Smut… Just a lot of smut
Word Count: ~17k | AO3
Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Alcohol, Cussing, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Implied Coercion
Summary: DanceRACHA sees you dancing to ‘Taste’ before their concert and they want a private show. Up close and personal.
Author's Note: This work was inspired by a request from @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna. It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything so I hope this spicy fic makes up for it.
__________________________________________
It's kind of strange, isn’t it? How anyone, literally anyone could be watching you when you’re in a public setting? Especially when there are hundreds of people surrounding the same area. Creepy almost…
But it doesn’t really help when there’s a circle of people dancing while waiting outside the stadium for the Stray Kids concert to start. You had never realized how supportive other Stays could be of each other and, although you were uncomfortable around a bunch of strangers with no one accompanying you, the others really welcomed you with open arms.
You were surprised with the amount of Stays that had learned the choreography of their idol’s songs and impressed by the quality of it. You were somewhat shy to admit it, but you weren’t a stranger to some of the dances yourself. In fact, there were a number of songs that you were pretty confident you had down to a T.
You couldn’t help it that Stray Kids songs made you want to move your body subconsciously. “Why don’t you get out there? You definitely seem like you want to dance!” You were startled by the guy next to you whom you had befriended while watching everyone. Apparently, you had been slightly dancing to the songs you knew the choreography to and a massive blush spread across your cheeks.
“Oh no no no. I could never…” You chuckled shyly and the guy smirked at you.
“You know that no one is going to judge you here? And if they do, then fuck them anyway.” You looked down and fidgeted with your fingers. You felt a warm hand gently pat your shoulder. “And you know that I will definitely cheer you on!”
You smiled up at him and then fear crossed your face when someone requested ‘Taste’. Fuck. He smiled brightly at you and nudged you to the center of the circle.
“You got this! Fighting!” 
You kept your head down the whole way to stand with a few others that were eager to dance and you tried to focus just on the music as the opening notes rang out.
You had only learned the choreography of all of the songs you memorized of your ultimate bias. Lee Know.
You could never match the amount of precision and finesse that it took to do his part, but it wouldn’t be much easier learning the other’s parts either. Felix with his powerful moves and flexibility that have jaws dropping. Hyunjin with his intensity and how he flows like water in between moves. It was hopeless no matter what, but you always tried your best.
Your nerves were whisked away into the wind once Lee Know’s part started and you trusted your body to move on its own. It seemed like it took you forever to figure out how to look sexy enough to do those moves while you were learning. You didn’t really feel sexy, but now you knew your body well enough to trust it to move how you wanted it to.
The song whisked you away and you didn’t even think twice about all the eyes watching you and the few other Stays that moved in sync along with you. When the song ended and you were gasping for air with sweat dripping down your neck, you heard a loud applause and you crashed back down to reality. 
Your face was blazing red as you shakily bowed your head and you sprinted back to your newfound friend. “Holy shit that was amazing! Why in the world would you want to hold that back?!” He shouted over the masses of cheers.
You just looked down and covered your face, proud that people liked your performance, but embarrassed that people saw you doing something so provocative. “I… I guess I just don't like being watched…” You meekly smiled up at him and he smiled back.
“Well I hate to break it to you, but you’re too pretty for people not to watch.” He cocked a smirk at you and you blushed with a smile as you turned your attention back to the festivities.
- - - - - - - - - -
By the end of the concert, you were sweaty, tired, and out of breath, but you never wanted it to end.
You had managed to grab a ticket right next to the stage and it was so fucking surreal to see your idols so close. You felt like you were hallucinating any time they made eye contact with you and you were sure you had the most idiotic expression of ‘starstruck fangirl’ planted on your face.
The most eye contact, though, was made by the bright smile of Lee Felix. It legitimately felt like you were being basked in sunlight any time he looked at you and you had to keep reminding yourself to keep it together, woman. You weren’t as loud or as attention-hungry as the Stays around you so you had not a single goddamned clue why his eyes kept drifting back to yours.
When they showed a surprise performance of ‘Taste’ you were done for.
Every two seconds, one of the three dancers would make eye contact with you during the set. You basked in the warmth that was Felix’s wide-eyed gaze, felt your body set ablaze when Hyunjin looked at you with the constant sex eyes he donned while performing, and then you were absolutely chilled to the bone when Lee Know looked down at you like a predator analyzing you.
Needless to say, you were concerned for your health.
During the final ment, your eyes were glued to the astounding god-like beauty of Lee Know and his piercing stare seemed to seek out your own gaze as well. Your body was hot all over and when he looked at you, you had the involuntary reaction to look away. It was as if your body was trying to preserve itself by forcing away the eye contact that made your heart beat out of your chest.
You were surely just imagining things. Seeing what your brain wanted you to see. It would all be over soon anyway and it wouldn’t matter anymore.
Except it did matter.
The concert had ended and you really didn’t want to fight all of the Stays that were filing out of the stadium and then lose your mind with the resulting traffic, so you took it slow and hung back. You sat back down in your seat and decided to scroll through your phone as the masses died down and you were surprised that people had already posted photos and videos of that night.
You smiled at the funny and amazing moments that Stay had captured and you even saw some videos of the activities before the show. As you were scrolling, your thumb froze as you came across a video with ‘Taste’ chiming in the background.
No.
Oh no.
Fuckfuckfuck. There you were. Your vulnerability on full display for the world to see.
NO!
You just sat there with your mouth opening and closing like a damned fish and you practically jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat in front of you, your phone clattering to the ground as you looked up at the huge, buff, and tall security guard. You must have lost track of time on your phone because when you looked around, the stadium was practically empty.
“O-oh god! I’m so sorry!” You quickly stood up after picking up your phone and collected your things. “I’ll leave right away! Sorry!” You were about to make a move to leave but he stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.
You turned around and probably looked like a frightened bunny as you looked up at the man. However, the warm smile he offered immediately eased your worries. “Actually, ma’am. My name is Tyrone. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”
All traces of color drained from your face in dread of what you could have possibly done. Had you bumped into the wrong person? Were you too scantily dressed? Were you deemed a threat because you stayed too long? “W-w-wha–?!”
“It will be explained soon, I assure you.” His smile was still warm when he cut off your potential of flurrying questions and he stepped to your side with a gentle touch to your upper back to urge you forward to follow him. For a man that looks like he could kill you in his sleep, he sure is gentle.
You followed him through corridor after corridor and your anxiety only swelled further the longer it took and the deeper you ventured into the bowels of the venue. Just as you were about to question exactly where he was taking you, he stopped in front of a non-descript door. Your curiosity started overtaking your fear as he knocked a couple of times and then slowly opened the door, stepping inside and holding it open for you. You briefly gave him a perplexed look and then stepped inside.
It was just an average lounge room. Completely void of any sign of life and you turned around to see the man still standing at the open door. “Um, can I ask what I did, sir?”
For some reason, he nervously chuckled and it threw you for a loop. “Uhh, heh, well to be honest, I don’t really know. I was just told by the higher-ups to bring you here so they could talk to you. I’m not sure what it’s about, I just do what I’m told. Sorry, little lady.” He shrugged and your shoulders fell in defeat. He pointed to the hallway as he put his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be right outside if you need me, okay? Make yourself comfortable and someone should be with you soon.”
You shyly nodded your head and he flashed that same warm smile before he turned to go back out.
However, right before he exited, he turned his head back. “Oh yeah! I was supposed to ask what year you were born!” Why the fuck did he need to know that? You looked perplexed but you answered nonetheless. He quickly thanked you as he exited and shut the door behind him. How the fuck were you supposed to make yourself comfortable when you were just basically kidnapped?! I mean, you obviously didn’t feel threatened, but that didn’t mean your anxiety wasn’t skyrocketing!
It felt like you were waiting for ages, pacing back and forth across the windowless room as you kept staring at the door.
After about thirty minutes, you heard a tiny knock at the door and you froze in your overly-frantic tracks. You waited a second and then the door hesitantly opened as a blonde-haired head popped in from around the door.
Oh my god. 
OH MY GOD NO FUCKING WAY.
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t blink. You couldn’t even conjure a single coherent thought in your head as LEE FUCKING FELIX just waltzed into the room like your whole fucking world didn’t just change at the sight of him.
The door quietly shut behind him as he walked toward you with a blinding smile. “Hi there! I’m Felix!” DID HE JUST FUCKING INTRODUCE HIMSELF?!?! OF COURSE HE IS FELIX!!! THERE’S NOT A SINGLE GODDAMNED SOUL WHO DOESN’T KNOW WHO HE IS!!! HOW DOES AN AUSTRALIAN ACCENT SOUND EVEN MORE BEAUTIFUL WHEN IT’S COMING FROM HIS MOUTH?!?!
He stood there with his hand outstretched for a handshake and your face was surely still in shock as you blindly reached out for it while you were memorizing every little feature on his angelic face. You were broken out of your trance once his skin touched yours and you looked down at where his hand gently held your own.
He squeezed it gently and you involuntarily let out a shaky chuckle. “Hm?” You looked up to see him tilting his head in question. Whether it was wondering your name or why you giggled, you didn’t know, but you decided to answer the latter first.
You chuckled again. “I… I’m sorry. I guess it’s just funny that you introduced yourself…” His face softened from his puzzled expression and he chuckled softly as well.
“Heh, I guess you’re right. I guess you already know my name, huh?” You giggled and nodded your head. He squeezed your hand once more but still didn’t make any move to release it. “However, I haven’t had the pleasure of getting your name…”
You quickly shook yourself out of your mystified trance and your eyes widened. “Oh! Oh my god, I’m being so rude, I’m sorry!” You frantically introduced yourself and squeezed his hand back, shaking it and bowing your head in greeting.
He chuckled at your panicking and placed his other hand on top of the one already in his grasp, you shut up real quick as you looked at his blinding smile that emitted a beautiful, melodic laugh. “You’re not being rude at all! That is a very beautiful name. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
You nervously chuckled and looked at his hands that encapsulated your own. “I-it’s nice to meet you too…” You shyly smiled and blushed, unable to make eye contact as you bore your eyes into his adorable hands. He surely must be feeling your sweaty palm, why isn’t he pulling away?
“You must be wondering why you’re here, am I right, noona? I can call you noona, yes? You’re a ‘97 girl, right?” Your eyes shot up to meet his own as you tentatively nodded your head. He must have asked Tyrone… He smirked as he finally pulled his hands away. Your hand shot to your clothes to wipe the sweat off your hands and ensure everything looked good. You silently watched as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
As he did so, you only just then realized that he had changed out of his stage clothes and into a comfy-looking t-shirt and shorts. His hair and makeup were still done up, but he definitely looked at least a little bit more comfortable, and you were grateful for it.
You were knocked out of your trance when Felix held his phone out in front of you. Your stomach dropped out of your ass at the mortifying content on his screen. That same fucking video you saw not even an hour ago was displayed right in front of your humiliated face. “This is you, right?”
Your eyes snapped up to him and your whole face lit on fire as you buried your face into your palms. “Oh god!” You whined pitifully.
You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and you peered at him through your fingers. “What’s wrong???” He sounded alarmed. “I thought it was amazing!” Your eyes blew wide as your hands slowly dropped from your face.
“Wha-what?” You’re sure you sounded braindead from the disbelief in your tone.
He cocked his eyebrow like it was the most obvious thing in existence. Then his face softened when he deciphered your confusion. “Okay, let me correct that statement. We thought it was amazing.”
“WE?! Who’s we?!” Your shyness was overcome by your bewilderment as you practically yelled the words.
He laughed heartily and, again, you were mesmerized at the sight of him. He looked at you endearingly. “Our dance line of course! Minho-hyung, Hyunjinnie, and I recognize talent when we see it. We were surprised to see you right up front during the concert and it was just plain dumb luck that you happened to still be there when we asked for someone to go look for you.”
OKAY, HOLD THE FUCK UP.
There were so many questions running through your head it almost made you dizzy. First off, how in the world could these trained professionals think you were any type of talented? Next, you realized that you weren’t just imagining things when you caught the three of them looking at you during the concert. And lastly… THEY SPECIFICALLY ASKED SOMEONE TO COME AND TAKE YOU TO MEET THEM?!?!
This was unreal. How were you not dreaming right now? Or passed the fuck out?
He must have sensed your internal mental breakdown because he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that we kind of just forced this on you, but Hyunjin and Minho-hyung would really like to meet you…” 
WHAT THE FUCK?! You made the most unattractive choking noise as you gasped and held your hand to your heart, afraid you were about to have a heart attack.
“But if you are uncomfortable with the whole situation, I can have someone take you ba–”
“NO!” Your hands flew to grab him, but you pulled back before you touched him, instead, putting your hands over your mouth in humiliation of your outburst.
He just laughed heartily and moved to put his other hand on your other shoulder. You were dead. There was no way to survive this. Lee Felix was holding you to face him and you were stunned speechless. “Does that mean you are okay with meeting them?”
You could do nothing but nod your head profusely, almost enough to damage your neck. He kept laughing at you and you couldn’t bring yourself to give two fucks about it. You probably looked pathetic at how much you were panicking…
“Well, then!” He pulled out his phone again and typed out a message, the following *bloop* from his phone indicating he sent a text. “They’re on their way!”
“Oh my gosh…” Your mouth involuntarily let out a sliver of your thoughts and you felt his hands lightly squeeze your shoulders before releasing you.
He offered a meek smile. “They wanted me to come first so you would be more comfortable. I guess I didn’t do a great job, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously and you waved your hands in front of you in protest.
“No no! You’re doing great! It’s just hard to relax when… well… it’s you! Like, you must know the effect you have on people!” It should be entirely obvious that anyone who would be able to meet them would go certifiably insane.
“Oh? And what effect do I have on you?” He stepped forward slightly with a crooked smile and it was a goddamned miracle you didn’t faint. The way he lowered his voice to negative decibels didn’t help one bit.
Was he…? No. Nope. Nuh uh, you needed to pull your brain out of delulu land RIGHT NOW. It was a simple question, nothing more.
“U-uh… I-I… I…” You couldn’t find the ON switch to your brain and you were panicking again.
And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the two of you turn to the door when you both hear the fidgeting of the doorknob. For some reason, that’s all it was. The knob was twisting and turning and then you and Felix watched as someone slammed into the door and Hyunjin came stumbling in.
He cursed under his breath and then stood up straight with a smile on his face once he saw you. As he came in, Lee Know walked in after him guffawing and pointing at him. He cackled a speedy sentence in Korean and you looked at Felix in confusion.
Felix started laughing too as Hyunjin made a sour face and turned to you. “The door was jammed and he was having a breakdown trying to force it open.” Felix cracked up and Hyunjin punched his arm while angrily murmuring something Korean under his breath.
You felt a tiny bit more at ease as you giggled behind your hand.
However, that was short-lived once the two newly arrived men turned their attention towards you. Your smile morphed into one of trepidation real quick.
Hyunjin and Lee Know bowed their heads in tandem in greeting, and then Hyunjin shook his head, as if coming out of a stupor, and stepped forward to offer his hand. Again, you tentatively grasped his hand and he squeezed it with a light shake, releasing it afterward unlike the life-threatening grasp of Felix.
“Hi! I’m Hyunjin!” Felix snorted out a half chuckle and you looked down with a shy, amused smile as well, knowing he was thinking the same thing you were about the introduction. “What? What did I say?” You shook your head and offered a small smile.
“Nothing! Nothing!” You bit your lip to hold back your grin. “I… I’m honored to meet you…” You bowed your head to him and then looked to Lee Know to do the same.
You instantly regretted your eye contact with the man behind Hyunjin because his gaze was sharp and piercing and you felt like you were just stabbed in the chest. Your expression faltered and all of the blood in your body rushed to your face.
You could have sworn you saw a smirk cross his features, but he quickly offered a tight-lipped smile and waved at you, making no moves to come closer as the other two had. “Hi, I’m Lee Know.”
You offered a shaky smile and waved back. Damn your trembling arm to hell. “H-hi…” You introduced your name to both of them and then looked down to the ground, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact any longer than you had to.
You heard Minho speak and you raised your head only slightly when he said something in Korean that almost sounded like… cooing? You heard the other two chuckle and then you really looked up, once again, looking to Felix for answers.
He smirked and then mischievously eyed Minho. “Hyung thinks you’re cute~” He said in a sing-songy voice.
“YAH!” Minho angrily stepped forward and Felix ran behind you while laughing, holding you in front of him by your arms as your eyes blew wide and your heart started racing. That’s it. You were dead. No other explanation made sense. 
While Hyunjin doubled over, absolutely howling with laughter, Minho just stared at you with an unreadable expression as your face, once again, turned into a tomato. Surely they are fucking with you. There is no way in hell that this adonis of a man thought you were any type of attractive.
Still, with a completely expressionless face, Minho sighed in tiny English. “Dance for us.”
Your jaw must have completely detached and dropped to the ground like a damned cartoon character because the look on his and Hyunjin’s faces was pure amusement.
Felix quickly walked around to stand in front of you again, attempting to do damage control. “What he means to say…” He rolled his eyes at the elder. “-is that we want to see your performance ourselves. Minho-hyung is our dance leader and he was just about insistent to see if you have any other… skills to show us…” He almost seemed nervous asking the question.
Why was he nervous? If anyone should be nervous, it should be you! You frantically shook your head. “Nononono! I couldn’t possibly… I can’t… I’m not… I-I…” You were terrified that they would even think to ask such a thing. “I am nowhere near as amazing as you guys!” Minho huffed and you looked over to see him roll his eyes and mutter something Korean under his breath. You felt your heart shatter at his disappointment.
You instantly stiffened when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders from your right. And when you looked over, you stopped breathing. Hyunjin’s face was right fucking next to yours and his smile was stupidly attractive as he looked down at you. “Come on! It’ll be fun!” He lightly squeezed you and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die when a tiny squeak escaped your mouth.
You sucked in your lips and you clenched your eyes shut to hide your horrified expression. You expected teasing, laughing, anything, but all you heard was silence. When you opened your eyes again, you were taken off guard to see that they had gotten closer to you and all three had an expression that looked like they would eat you alive.
Minho stepped up right in front of your face and you felt your bones tremble. He gently grasped your hand in his own and looked deep into your eyes. “Please.” How was it that this man could ask such a vulnerable question, and yet make it sound like a command? He had you ensnared in his gorgeous eyes and there was no chance of escaping.
…but honestly, you couldn’t care less.
“O-okay…” You shakily whispered. An evil sneer morphed onto his face at your meek word of relent. 
“Good.” Your eyes widened from the cocky tone in his voice and your eyes followed him as he released your hand and made his way to the door, exiting casually with a friendly nod to Tyrone whom you could see standing just beyond the threshold.
You looked at the tall man still holding you with confusion written on your features. “Why is he leaving?” You almost wanted to cry due to having such a short time with him.
Hyunjin flashed a gorgeous smile, but Felix was the one to speak up and you turned to him. “We can’t do it here, love. We can’t stay in the building all night.” ALL NIGHT?!?! “We’ll sneak you up to hyung’s room so we won’t be bothered.”
You stopped breathing. He called you love. He said all night. He said Minho’s ROOM.
You almost felt sick from the nerves you were feeling. Why, of all people, did they want you to accompany them? And even further, take you back to their room???... “W-wait… you mean his hotel room?!” There was no holding back the disbelief in your voice and Hyunjin chuckled.
When you turned back to look at him, he was even closer to your face (if that was even possible at this point). “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, pretty girl. We just don’t have any other options. We need to make sure we keep you a secret.” He winked and you could tell he was trying to hypnotize you with those damned sex eyes, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to put up a fight. Especially since you could feel him gently caress your arm with the hand he had wrapped around you.
You had to close your eyes and face the floor to collect your thoughts and learn how to speak again. “O-okay… let’s… let’s go…” You exhaled heavily from the amount of air you were holding back and you felt a small hand on your left grasp onto your own.
You heard a gleeful noise from your right. “I’m so excited! Let’s go!” Hyunjin released you and skipped off out the door and down the hall.
Your face must have shown your thoughts because the man holding your hand decided to poke at the worried crease between your eyebrows. “You doing okay in there?” He had an amused smile but you could still see the concern behind his eyes.
Your heart swelled. He really is the world’s best friend, isn’t he? “I’ll be fine. This is all just… a lot.” You nervously chuckled and he squeezed your hand tighter.
“I’m sure it is pretty stressful. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed, just say the word and we can take you home.” You offered a small smile and he returned it. “Okay, well. Let’s get to it. I’m sure they’re already waiting.” And with that, he walked you down the hall, hand in hand, to get ready to head out.
- - - - - - - - - -
You were pretty upset that the rest of the guys had already headed out and you didn’t get the chance to meet them, but you were already blessed beyond compare to even get this far, so you didn’t share your complaints with the three.
They paid for a cab to take you to their hotel and you entered separately from them to hide suspicion and, before you knew it, you were in the hotel elevator with three of the most drop-dead gorgeous creatures you had ever seen.
That was probably the slowest elevator in existence and yet too quick for your liking. You stood on one side, probably looking like a cornered baby gazelle while three hungry lions stood on the other side dissecting you with their eyes. How you would ever be able to get your body to dance for them, you didn’t know.
When the elevator bell dinged to indicate its arrival, you involuntarily jumped out of your skin. Hyunjin and Felix tried to hold back their chuckle, but Minho just cackled and patted your head as he waltzed out of the elevator as if he wasn’t leading you to your demise.
They didn’t even say a word as Minho nonchalantly unlocked the door and the three of you followed him in. You probably looked pathetic. Your arms were tucked in on yourself and your shoulders were tense. You probably looked super tiny in this unnecessarily large room. Unfortunately plenty of room to dance.
Hyunjin and Minho plopped down on the huge couch in the middle of the room and looked at you expectantly as you idiotically stayed frozen in the corridor and Felix closed and locked the door behind you. “Yah.” Minho exclaimed and then motioned to the large space in front of them. It should seem rude, but the look in his eyes didn’t scream malevolent. He just simply didn’t seem to know how to convey what he wanted.
Felix gave him an exasperated look and then turned back to smile at you. “It’s okay, love. We just want to check out your skills firsthand.”  All you could do was nod your head obediently, words completely evading your comprehension, as you set down your small clutch purse and stepped up in front of them.
“Um, do you need to take my phone or anything? I know you guys are probably worried about secrecy and all of that sooo….” 
Felix offered a fond smile. “Are you planning on telling anyone?” Your eyes popped open and you shook your head profusely. “Then we’re all good! We’ve never really done this before, but we trust you, noona. We are pretty good judges of character.”
Why? Why would they trust a completely random Stay? Of course, you want what’s best for them and they haven’t done anything to make you uncomfortable… well… not in an unwelcome way, but you are afraid of what could happen to them if they trusted the wrong person.
Hyunjin smirked as he stood up and walked to the mini-fridge. His eyes scorched you with their intensity as he returned to the couch with a bottle of wine and a couple of the hotel’s cups, tongue peeking out the corner of his lips as he assessed you. “Do you mind if we drink, angel? We just had a long day and we need to take the edge off.”
“N-no, I don’t mind…” You sounded incredibly small and he flashed his cocky open smile before pouring him and the others a cup.
You watched as the three took a sip, your eyes following the bob of Minho’s Adam's apple as he gulped and you found yourself taking a dry swallow too. Once you finally regained the ability to think about anything other than the dangerous thoughts lurking in your head, you looked up and realized he was boring his eyes into you as he calmly sat down the cup across the coffee table, making a gesture from you to the cup.
You had no clue what he wanted from you. Did he want you to fill it up even more for him? “Huh?” You hated to sound dumb, but you were probably already getting there with the way Minho clicked his tongue in frustration and picked the cup back up. He reluctantly stood from the couch, leaving the other two men to sit and watch your movements like a hawk as he stepped around the table and stood only a foot’s length away from your face.
Without looking away from your frightened eyes, he calmly spoke “Do you want some?” Your eyes widened and you about fainted when Minho flashed a crooked smile of amusement and cocked an eyebrow.
“Wha– I–”
“Hyung knows a lot more English than he likes to let on. He just doesn’t want to have to talk.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes while explaining. “It might help you relax? But you don’t have to if you don’t want any.” You looked down at the cup that Minho was holding up in between your bodies and then back up at his eyes.
He tilted his head with a smile that would normally seem innocent but looked almost teasing on his face. Never straying your eyes from his, you gingerly retrieved the cup from his hand and pulled it to your mouth. He didn’t move a muscle as you tilted back with eyes closed and appreciated the smooth, bittersweet beverage from the cup of the man that had just drank from it.
When you finished your sip and opened your eyes, you were beyond flustered to see that he was looking at your mouth. You couldn’t breathe as you licked the remaining wine off of your lips and watched as he moistened his own as well. When he looked back up to make eye contact, he smirked. “Good girl.”
GOOD GIRL?!?! DID LEE MINHO JUST CALL YOU ‘GOOD GIRL’?!?! You were dead. You could die then and there and be happy.
Unbeknownst to you, that was just the beginning.
Without reclaiming his cup, he stepped back and went to plop back down in his spot on the couch. You just stood there with wide eyes and jaw dropped as you saw them look at you with amusement. “You’re adorable, you know?” Hyunjin leaned forward and propped his elbows up on his knees. He then tilted his head and cutely asked, “Can I keep you?”
Fuck.
“Yah, Jinnie. Stop scaring the poor girl.” Felix grumbled and then turned back to your trembling form. “Ignore him, we just want to see you dance. Maybe even help you out if you’d let us.” He winked at you and you blushed furiously.
Fuck it. You downed the rest of the contents in the cup in one go because you needed all of the liquid courage you could get. When you sat the cup back down in front of Minho, he leaned forward, mimicking Hyunjin’s position, and smiled mischievously at you. You had to force yourself out of the grasp his eyes had you locked in.
“Um… what did you guys want to see me dance to?”
“You know more than one?!” Hyunjin’s eyes blew out and he grasped his heart dramatically. You couldn’t control the giggle from his antics and they all smiled at you, Minho attempting to hide his own grin behind his refilled cup.
“Yeah… I know a lot of them. You can choose one and I’ll see if I know the dance…” The three of them looked at you in amazement and disbelief at your words.
They continued talking for a moment amongst themselves and you, with no knowledge of what they were saying, just stood there looking at your restless feet. “Do you know the choreo for District 9?”
Shit. That was probably the most difficult one!
Still, you did know it…
You nervously chuckled. “Uhhh yeah, but I’ll probably be awful at it. It’s not an easy one.”
Felix and Hyunjin had giddy smiles while Minho looked at you with scrutiny. “Who’s part do you know?” Hyunjin looked at you with wide eyes.
You blushed furiously. Will they know your bias just by your answer? Surely not, right? Still, you were shy to admit it. You looked down as you twiddled your thumbs, unable to look at them as you answered. “Minho– I-I mean Lee Know…” You chanced a look up at him and he looked like he was trying to hide his smile once again.
“I want to see it!” Hyunjin raised his hand excitedly and eagerly looked at his other members. They both nodded as Minho pulled out his phone, his Anya sticker even more unrecognizable than the last time you saw him post a picture with it. He laid it in front of him with the song ready to play and then he held out an open palm to gesture to the floor, seemingly to order you into position.
You quickly complied and got into formation, which you quickly realized was a rather promiscuous position for a female dressed in fishnets and a skirt. Hey, don’t judge! it’s not every day you get to dress up for a concert! It was especially risque when you basically had your crotch aimed right at the ethereal beings in front of you. You tried to sit where you weren’t completely flashing them, but you looked really awkward doing it. You took a long, deep breath as you closed your eyes and then let your body take over once the song started.
Of course, it took an insane amount of concentration and willpower, but the more you got into it, the more confident you became. You knew you could do it as long as you imagined yourself just practicing regularly in your bedroom rather than in front of three of the most gorgeous men in the world that had probably already seen a full view of your panties at some point in the dance.
When the song was over, you stayed in formation until the three of them stood up and started applauding. You were dewy with sweat and your breathing was out of control, but you couldn’t help but feel partly proud of yourself and partly terrified of their critiques.
Hyunjin and Felix came to you on each side and hugged you tightly while slightly lifting you off the ground. You giggled as they hollered at you and Minho had his hands in his pockets in front of you with a smirk.
When they put you down, they kissed both sides of your cheeks in tandem and your soul felt like it had ascended to heaven. You looked at the two, completely gobsmacked, as they stood in front of you with bright smiles.
Hyunjin giggled. “That was amazing!”
“You really are an amazing dancer, noona!” Felix took your hand and squeezed it, which prompted Hyunjin to do the same with your other hand.
And, completely unexpectedly, Felix flashed an evil grin.
“Sooo, based on the video and this dance, I can only assume that Minho-hyung is your favorite among us?” The two in front of you looked back at the unassuming man that had sat back down.
You looked away when you felt all the blood rush to your face. The two cackled and Hyunjin said something in Korean to Minho. “Hey! Don’t tell him!”
“Too late, love. Like we said, he probably already knows what’s being said, anyway” The two boys released your hands and your face was mortified as you looked at Minho.
You were surprised to see that the tips of his ears were tinged in red and he had grabbed the wine bottle to fill up his cup once again. Hyunjin sounded patronizing when he rambled off something to Minho and the tallest received a threatening glare from the dance leader.
When you looked back at Felix, he looked like he was deep in thought. Then abruptly, it looked like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Hey, noona! Since you know hyung’s choreography to ‘Taste’, can Hyunjin and I dance it with you?!” Your heart dropped out of your ass, but by the look of the two boy’s pleading faces, you didn’t have it in you to refuse.
Again, you chuckled nervously. “I-I guess I can give it a shot…” They basically jumped for joy and Minho was already scrolling through his phone for the song. The other two got into position which prompted you to do the same as you calmed down your breathing and tried to not panic.
You heard the opening notes and it was a lot harder to concentrate when you knew they were dancing with you. Still, you did your best to represent the man you were performing for that had concentration written all over his features.
However, a little way into the song, you panicked.
Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Your move was supposed to have you splay your hand out over Hyunjin’s chest and waist but… there was no way in this goddamned universe that you could feel confident enough to touch him like that.
You didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, so you just hovered your hands over the correct areas. When you checked Minho’s expression, he had sat back against the cushions with his arms crossed and a cocked eyebrow.
Shit.
You could tell the others noticed too as the three of you continued to dance with their eyes bored into you.
Once the song ended, you were afraid to meet eyes with any of them. That was until you heard the velvety voice from the couch chime your name.
You snapped your head up to look at him, not expecting him to address you directly, and you realized he was walking right up to you. He spewed off something in Korean to the other two and then he gently grasped your hand. Holy fuck he’s touching me…
He guided you behind the two men that had lined up and you knew exactly what he was up to.
In the same dance formation, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it over the two men as he firmly pressed your full palm to Hyunjin’s chest, doing the same with your other hand on his abdomen. “Okay?” Minho said, still pressing your hands against the other’s chest.
You dumbly nodded and a tiny whimper escaped on your exhale. Your eyes bulged out as they all looked at you with raised eyebrows. “O-oh god, I’m so sorry!” You quickly pulled back your hands and held them over your mouth in humiliation.
“Don’t worry, love! Do you just feel uncomfortable touching us?” Felix said tentatively as if you would run away at the slightest movement. 
“I… I… I just don’t feel like I should be allowed to…” You looked down with a nervous chuckle and clasped your hands together in front of you. Without any words, you saw two lithe hands grasp your own as they detangled them. You looked up to see Hyunjin standing in front of you as he pulled your hands up to his chest.
“You can touch me all you want, pretty girl.” Hyunjin winked seductively and your eyes popped out of their sockets for the umpteenth time that night. “Are you okay with this?” Again, you were completely numb as you nodded your head, all of your focus committed to the feeling of his warm chest through his shirt under your hands.
He hummed lowly as he slowly moved your hands to press against his abs. Your eyes peered back up to see his expression and he was biting his lip with black eyes staring down at you.
You unintentionally moved your hands back up to his chest and balled your fists in his shirt with a gasp when you felt Felix wrap his arm around your waist. “You can touch any of us, really…” You felt like a caged mouse when he propped his chin up on your shoulder and your inner thoughts conjured the lewdest thoughts. “I was wondering… what could Hyunnie and I do to convince you to change your bias?” The thickly accented whisper sent shivers down your spine.
You looked at Hyunjin who had a dangerous smile, and then Minho who looked at you with dark, hungry eyes. It was as if he was giving you a nonverbal warning. You couldn’t help but want to rile him up.
You had NO CLUE how to read this situation, they couldn’t possibly be…? No… not possible, get your damned head out of the gutter.
That assumption was quickly rectified when Hyunjin slowly smoothed his hands over your hips and pulled you flush to him. “What about this?” He whispered mere centimeters from your face. You probably looked terrified, but the way your body involuntarily arched into him made him cockily smirk.
You could feel Felix’s arm tighten around you and he whispered his hot breath in your ear. “Or this?” That was when you felt the warm, wet press of his lips against the back of your neck. You loudly gasped, still in front of Hyunjin’s face, but your eyes closed from the sensation. Felix was still right next to your ear, but his voice sounded worried. “Is this okay, love? We can have someone take you home if you feel uncomfortab–”
“No!” Your arms wrapped around Hyunjin’s neck instinctively and they squeezed you as they softly laughed at your reaction. You had looked around the two to see that Minho had returned to the couch and was watching the three of you with an unreadable expression while sipping his wine.
“Well, in that case, I think I could convince you a bit more, yeah?” Hyunjin displayed that same fucking tongue prodding at his lips while he smiled at your frozen form that was locked in his eye contact. You knew your heart was beating out of your chest when Hyunjin looked down at your moistened lips and started leaning down to your face.
Surely he’s not… is he? No fucking way.
He touched his lips down on yours and if it weren’t for their strong grip on you, you would have melted into the floor. He was kissing you. HWANG FUCKING HYUNJIN WAS KISSING YOU!!!
You were as still as a statue, but he urged you to kiss back. And who were you to deny him?
Your lips started hesitantly gliding against his hungry ones and your arms tightened around his neck. He groped your hips more firmly as he pulled you even tighter against him. You heard a click of a tongue somewhere in the room and when Hyunjin pulled back, his cocky smile landed on Minho who was glaring daggers at him from the couch. 
You had no clue how to read the situation and, honestly, you were done trying to figure out these enigmatic men. Best to just go with the flow, right?
Before Hyunjin turned his attention back to you, your breath was stolen from you when Felix snatched you from his arms. Hyunjin whined and said something pouty in Korean, but Felix paid no attention to him. Instead, he guided you by your hips to sit on the sofa next to Minho.
You were shocked to see that he was almost as flustered as you were at the unexpected action, but you couldn’t look at him for long before Felix propped his knee up next to your leg and leaned over you to capture your lips. The kiss was a lot more sweet and gentle than Hyunjin’s had been.
That was until Felix made the first plunge to try and deepen the kiss with his tongue running over your lips. After you welcomed the intrusion, that sweet persona was nowhere to be found and you were blessed to see Lee Yongbok in his carnal form. His hands were cupping your jaw and he pressed your lips against his firmly with gnashing teeth and tongues.
When you finally remembered that there were two other people watching you, your lips froze. Felix pulled back to assess you, but then instantly wore a cocky smirk when he saw your blush and your wandering eyes over at the other two with your head hung low.
“What is it, love? Don’t like an audience, or do you not like any of this?” Felix tried to move to catch your eyes and catch them he did. You stared up at the man towering over you and you could see stars in his eyes. How could you say no to such a man? Well… men…
“I… I like this…” You couldn’t look him in the eye to admit it, instead, turning your head to look at the empty cups on the table. You knew your face was burning up and your attention was redirected as Hyunjin scrambled onto the other side of the couch to lean across Minho. 
“Felix, it’s not fair for you to steal her like that!” Hyunjin basically completely ignored Minho’s protests when he scrambled across the elder’s lap to try and steal another kiss. Just as his lips touched down on your cheek, the man stumbled to the floor. “Ow! Hyuuung!” He whined.
Minho sat next to you, seemingly very proud of himself for thwarting Hyunjin’s advances, as he caught you staring at him. Your face burned and you bit your lip while looking down at your hands again. Felix stopped hovering over you so he could try and get the limp, overdramatic man off the ground.
When you looked up, you saw that Minho was still looking at you with an ‘I will murder you in your sleep’ type of expression and your eyes widened in fear and anticipation. Before the other boys had returned their attention to you, Minho deftly moved closer to your trembling body.
You could swear you were hyperventilating when the man leaned in close to tower over you as you slid down to cower against the cushions. His expression was ravenous and yet there was a hint of apprehension to it. It wasn’t long before you had backed all the way up to the arm of the couch and his arms caged your head in against the cushions you had fallen back onto.
However, before he actually even touched you, his eyes searched yours. His breath stuttered momentarily before he breathed out in a low voice. “Is this okay?” 
Your breath hitched and you couldn’t think about anything but the man over you. His eyes were beautiful and lustful and his tongue peeked out to moisten his plump lips. He was so motherfucking beautiful you wanted to cry. What had you done to be blessed with such close proximity to a specimen such as him? Hell, even this whole situation in general was too good to be true!
You numbly nodded and then stupidly asked, “Is it okay with you?” 
You wanted to slap yourself silly once he giggled down at you, but you quickly got over it when his strong hand reached up to your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. He pushed the hair off your neck when he lowered his face down to your ear. “Yes, jagiya.”
That’s it, you were done. How the hell was he not committing manslaughter by saying shit like that? Your breathing alone could kill you, not to mention your heart!
When you felt the warm, wet press of lips to your jaw, a completely inhuman noise came from your mouth. The universe was both against you and in your favor simultaneously. You heard a chuckle and the lips against your skin grinned at the embarrassing noise, and when Minho looked up at you, you decided that your embarrassment was worth it.
He looked like he wanted to eat you. But as he leaned in to finally press his lips to yours, Hyunjin tackled him, shoving the elder off of your melted body before you could even get a whisper of a touch of the eldest’s lips. Felix quickly swooped in and stole you from their wrestling.
He gently stood you up and dragged you away from them, taking your hand and leading you to the giant bed in the center of the room. He sat down on the plush duvet with your hand in his small ones as you stood in front of him. He bit his lip and almost looked shy for a half second, but soon a bright smile spread across his face and he let your hand go. Instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you between his parted legs.
While still sitting in front of you, he pressed up against you and nuzzled his face right up in your goddamned pubic bone. 
At that point, you knew your panties were fucked. 
He looked up at you when a shaky breath escaped your lips. His smile was blinding. “Do you mind if we play with you tonight, love?” He emphasized the word ‘play’ to let you know that he didn’t just mean any fucking Monopoly game or some shit. They wanted you.
His voice was sickly sweet and you gasped as you felt a pair of hands, seemingly Hyunjin’s hands, come in behind you to start rubbing up your abdomen to your bra line as he kissed his way down your neck to the collar of your sheer blouse, teasing the material with his teeth. They weren’t necessarily crossing any lines, not by any of your own standards anyway, but they made sure to not overwhelm you.
I mean, yeah, you were definitely overwhelmed, but in the best of ways. You were pretty sure they could fucking curbstomp you and you would thank them and ask for seconds. 
“I…” God, why were you so timid? “I… I like playing…” You said before biting your lip and looking away with a cherry-red face.
When you turned away, you could have sworn you caught a glimpse of Minho ‘adjusting’ himself off to the side. Maybe you weren’t the only one desperate for touch…
The boys caging you in ended up regaining your attention when you felt the hands on your abdomen move to unbutton your shirt. You whimpered when you felt Hyunjin’s hands finally graze up your bare stomach and eventually cresting the curve of your breasts to grope over the material of your bra, his hot breath continuing to fan over the sensitive skin of your neck all the while.
Your upper body unintentionally leaned back into him as he continued his assault on your neck. However, Felix wouldn’t let you get far as he, too, had a strong grip on your hips, and your arms gravitated to rest on top of the blonde’s shoulders. You could feel his hands reach around to grope your ass and you just about went limp from their firm holds on you. You could just lay there all day and let them do whatever the fuck they wanted to.
You mewled when Felix lowered his head again, this time completely burying his face in between your legs as he nuzzled over your clothed core. That, plus Hyunjins rock hard dick pressing into your ass made you whine pathetically. You heard a chuckle from the couch and saw Minho leaning back on it again.
He laughed at your obvious desperation and you whined again. The boys that were torturing you maintained their stance, not moving any further and Minho bit his lip. You could definitely confirm he was palming himself now as he walked up to you and grabbed your chin with one hand.
“Yongbok-ah?” He murmured while never straying his eyes from yours. You felt the movement on your core stop and Minho, very slowly and deeply with his velvety voice said another sentence you couldn’t understand. 
Felix spoke up with a chuckle and Minho kept his eyes locked on yours while the younger one translated. “Hyung said that Jinnie and I could try all we want, but he won’t let the night end until he has convinced you that you belong to only him.”
Your breath was shaky and you squealed when he moved in and you finally got to taste those beautiful, plump lips. His tongue tasted sweet from the wine and you groaned in ecstasy. You were in heaven and you refused to ever come down.
You were ripped from your brief bliss when Hyunjin took matters into his own hands and dragged you away by your waist. Before you knew it, Hyunjin had lifted you onto the bed and your head was laid comfortably on the plush pillows.
Hyunjin had the devil’s laugh on his face as he crawled up to hover over you. “Just relax, angel. I’ll show you who you really want.” Hyunjin’s playful smile was replaced with hunger and he tentatively grasped the remaining unbuttoned part of your shirt, hinting at a question. You immediately sat up and took it the rest of the way off.
Once you were back down, his lips eagerly attacked the swell of your breast as his hands fumbled behind you to remove your mesh bra. When he finally deciphered the way to unlatch it, you moaned when he latched his mouth onto your nipple, lithe fingers playing with the other.
While he had his head down, you saw Felix walk over from where he and Minho had moved to stand at the foot of the bed. His eyes were glued to your breasts and the man devouring them until he reached the head of the bed where you were looking up at him with heavy lids and a lustful moan on the tip of your tongue. 
He caressed your cheek and smiled at you when you whined from his thumb running over your bottom lip. “So sweet…” He propped his hand up by your head as he bent over to lazily kiss you, the action getting more and more needy with each passing second. You felt Felix’s small hand replace Hyunjin’s on the breast that he wasn’t sucking the life out of and he squeezed it in earnest.
You cried out when Felix moved down as well and then you had a pair of lips on both of your breasts. You scrunched your eyes from the intense arousal you were feeling, and when you opened them again, Minho was looking straight into your eyes with crossed arms and a raised brow that almost seemed like he was challenging you.
God, you were so gone.
You gasped when you felt a hand glide up your inner thigh and under your skirt to cup over your clothed mound and start palming it, bringing sweet pressure to where you were aching profusely. Hyunjin then raised his head to yours and breathed against your lips when he brought his hand back up and thumbed at the waistband of your skirt. “Is this okay, noona?”
You nodded your head frantically, breath obviously picking up, and he quickly followed through, hastily sliding his slim fingers under the waistband of the offending clothing and shucking them, your fishnet tights, and your lace panties off of you. You felt red all over from the fact that you were stripped down completely naked for these three men that hadn’t even removed a shred of clothing.
Feeling a bit self-conscious, especially because Felix also relented his attack and they all three were gawking at you, you squeezed your legs shut and involuntarily crossed an arm over your breasts and the other over your stomach. You wanted to keep going, you just wished they wouldn’t just stand there and stare.
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, noona.” The ray of sunshine noticed your discomfort and gently caressed your bare thigh. “You are just so beautiful, we can’t help but stare. Are you still alright?” It warmed your heart that Felix was still focused on your comfort after all of this and you gave him a shy smile when you nodded. He had to bite back his giddy grin and he quickly removed his shirt, Hyunjin received the hint and did the same right after.
And holy hell. It was just so unfair to be that insanely gorgeous.
Hyunjin lowered himself back down over you with a cocky grin. “Now who’s staring?”
Your face burst into flames and you looked away with a small “S-sorry”. He just chuckled and grabbed your chin to look back at him. “I didn’t say I minded. You can look all you want.” He licked his lips hungrily. “You can touch too…” He said as he grabbed your hand to glide over his naked abdomen. His voice turned to a whisper in your ear. “...anywhere you want…” His hand dragged your own down the length of his stomach and then splayed your palm out over the crotch of his pants to feel his prominent bulge.
OH. MY. GOD.
“You did this to me, noona…” He whispered again, pressing your palm against his tumescence more firmly to reiterate. You gasped in response and kept your hand there when he slowly released you. “Do you want to help me take care of it?” His low voice, his hooded eyes, his everything was dripping in the personification of sex and you tentatively pressed your palm against him again and he groaned into your neck. “Fuck… that’s it…”
His hand landed on your upper thigh and you started hyperventilating. That was until Felix captured your mouth again in another powerful kiss and distracted you from your obvious panic. However, your mouth gaped open against his as you emitted a loud moan when Hyunjin’s fingers found your clit.
“Oh fuck, noona… You’re so wet for us, baby…” You could hear Hyunjin’s voice drift down your body as you continued to tangle tongues with the youngest of the three. This boy has been working on his English dirty talk, hasn’t he? However, you unintentionally unlatched yourself and threw your head back with a loud moan when you felt Hyunjin’s warm mouth close around your clit and start sucking.
Felix elected to focus his efforts elsewhere as well and he properly climbed onto the bed next to you as he returned his mouth to your nipples. You were whining and writhing beneath the ministrations of the both of them and they both firmly gripped your hips still. 
You quickly realized that your eyes had fluttered shut in the heat of the moment and you snapped them open again, not wanting to miss a single moment of this batshit crazy experience.
However, when you opened your eyes, you immediately latched them onto the man at the end of the bed. Minho had the most predatory glare on his face and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was palming himself while looking at you. You bit your lip and whimpered when he finally dipped his hand under the waistband of his sweatpants and let his jaw slightly fall open as he worked himself up.
Abruptly, without warning, you half groaned, half whined when you felt Hyunjin’s long, lithe finger slip into you and you couldn’t control it when your hips bucked up into his face. He chuckled against your core and then raised his smiling and slick wet face to look at you. “Does that feel good, baby?” 
You couldn’t speak, you just nodded your head frantically.
You shrieked when Felix nipped your swollen nipple and soothed it with his tongue when he looked back up at you. “Jinnie asked you a question, love. Be a good girl and answer him, yeah?”
“Yes! Oh my god, yes…” Your voice was wistful and fucked out as your hips kept moving on their own accord.
“These fingers are nothing compared to what I have in store for you…” Hyunjin looked at your body with hungry eyes as he wet his lips. “But, first, I wanna see how much I can make you fall apart…”
And without further ado, he plunged down into your cunt again with vigor as Felix reattached himself to your lips and his hands gained purchase on your breasts. His tongue snaked its way into your mouth while Hyunjin’s sneaked its way into your folds. Your breathing was erratic, and your kiss with Felix turned into more of a breathy moan against his lips.
Eventually, Felix’s kisses moved their way down to your neck and then back to your nipples. He apparently was really fixated on them that night. You looked back up to see that all the while Minho was unabashedly getting closer, having his hand moving at a slow, steady pace inside his pants.
One of your lifeless hands was suddenly being gently maneuvered by Felix to press your palm against the tent in his sweats and you gasped at the heat that emitted from his bulge. A random bout of courage was pulled out of your lust-ridden brain and you used both hands to clumsily untie his waistband, resulting in the man sitting up to stare at you in wonder. You looked up at him with pleading eyes in a silent request for their removal, pulling at both his pants and his underwear.
All he responded with was a blinding smile and chaste kiss to your lips before scrambling off the bed to remove said items. And, man, that lean boy did not disappoint…
However, in the process of doing that, Hyunjin advanced his efforts tenfold and you started to feel your core start to snap. One of your hands flew to tangle in his soft locks as you pulled him ever closer to you in an attempt to chase your high. He definitely knew what he was doing. One last flick of his tongue and a particularly delicious press of his fingers against your g-spot had you seeing stars as you came all over Hwang Hyunjin’s face.
Your head was thrown back in a silent cry (no pun intended) as he led you through your orgasm with lazy pumps of his fingers and when he retreated and you came back to reality, you wanted to crawl in a hole and die from embarrassment.
All three men were breathing heavily with blown-out eyes as they stared at you in awe of your orgasm. You didn’t have much time to soothe the reddening of your face because Felix abruptly jumped on top of you and devoured your lips. The fact that this gorgeous creature was completely butt-ass-naked on top of you with his leaking cock pressed up against your hip was making you dizzy and your hands moved on their own when you realized that you wanted nothing more than to feel him.
His mouth groaned against yours when you pressed your cupped palm over his erection and you whimpered at the feeling. You took the plunge and gently wrapped your fingers around him and started pumping your fist. Felix detached himself from your lips and slumped his forehead against yours as his heavy breathing stuttered.
“Fuck, love. You’re doing so good for us…” He choked out and pecked your cheek as he leaned in to whisper against your ear. “How would you like to feel us inside of you?” You felt the sinful words seep into your skin and mingle with every nerve ending in your body. The shiver of your body was beyond involuntary and a shuttered breath escaped your lips.
He sat up to look you in the eyes directly, taking the hand that you had wrapped around his dick, and started moving it for you when it unintentionally froze from the proposition. “I-I… Y-you…” Felix cut off your rambling with another chaste kiss to your lips.
“If you would rather stop here, we can…” He sounded a bit sullen with each word, and it warmed your heart that he wanted to make sure you were still comfortable.
Just as he started to pull away, you wrapped your free arm around his neck and pulled him into a bruising kiss, your other hand continuing to jerk him off slowly. “G-god, Felix. This is a fucking dream…” You mumbled against his lips.
You could feel the bright smile of his against your lips and he broke away to inquire again. “Is that a yes?” He said with a hopeful smile.
Your eyes surely had stars in them as you looked up at his glowing features. You meekly nodded and your voice sounded more like a whine when you quietly whimpered a short, “Please…”
With that said, he jovially leaped off of you and you grumbled your disappointment and sat up to watch the three men hover around a duffle bag. You shouldn’t have been surprised to see the three of them turn back to you with a condom in each of their hands, all of them looking at you as if they were famished and you were their buffet. 
“Um… Felix?”
Said boy tilted his head in query. “What is it, love?”
You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you shyly looked down at the sheets clenched between your fingers. “I don’t know if this changes anything for you, but…” You chanced a glance up at his beautiful face that had confusion written all over his features. “I… I have a birth control implant… and I’m clean… so you don’t really need…” You fixed your eyes on the prophylactic in his hand. “...you know…” You were suddenly too shy to say it outright.
Said item was instantly dropped to the floor as he stared at you in shock. The other two looked panicked and stepped up to him, immediately questioning what your words meant. After he numbly translated, the other two men’s faces comically morphed to match their Australian member’s expression.
You panicked. “But I don’t mind either way! I totally understand if you still want to use precautions and all–” Before you could mutter another syllable, he was on you in an instant, silencing you with his lips.
“Fuck, love. There’s no way we deserve you.” He kissed you again and sat up to cup your cheeks and intensely look you in the eyes. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” Relieved, you smiled at the beautiful man.
“Absolutely.” And with that, Hyunjin joined Felix as he, too, pounced on you like a predator.
Minho, who still had all of his clothes on, just continued to watch as the other two caged you in. “How do you want to do this, baby? Who do you want first? Or do you want both?” Hyunjin had a mischievous smile as he slowly removed his pants and boxers as well and gave your body a sinful once-over. Your eyes bulged out of your head at the sight of him.
You suddenly felt incredibly small under their gaze and beautiful naked bodies. “U-um… I don’t mind either way… I just want to be here for all of you. You can have me however you want…” Your words were bold but your voice was meek and their hungry gazes went gentle.
“Such a sweet baby…” Hyunjin said as they hovered over you and slowly kissed their way down from your jaw to your neck on each side. You wanted to touch them so badly. 
With a sudden bout of courage, you tentatively took their cocks in each hand from where they hovered at your sides and put in all of your effort to try and please them. They let out a surprise groan and Hyunjin muttered something to Felix in Korean, immediately scooting over so Felix could position himself between your legs.
Hyunjin stepped back, relinquishing your grasp on his dick and you quivered at the man on top of you that was staring into your soul. Felix had already replaced your hand on his cock and you arched your back when he ran the tip through your folds and over your clit. 
You had achieved a core memory from the feeling of his burning hot touch.
“You sure about this, love?” He searched your eyes once more and you had decided your patience had run out. You grabbed the back of his head and crushed his lips to your own, followed by a breathy whisper against his lips.
“Please, Felix… I want you so bad…” Your whimpered words earned a grin on the boy’s angelic face and you slowly felt him stretch you open as he entered you. 
Your jaw dropped as you groaned against his lips and he kissed you again, minutely stifling the noises that were so very desperate to escape your mouth from the feeling of his slow intrusion. It had been so long since you’d had sex that you forgot how overwhelming the first push was.
Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he pulled back to look at your face only to find a slack jaw and scrunched-up eyes. You felt the presence of Hyunjin on your right, slowly shushing your whimpers as he tried to distract you with wet kisses along your jaw and neck. “Shhh, you’re doing great, baby girl. Taking our Yongbokkie so well.” He briefly turned to Felix. “How does she feel, Lixie-ah?”
Felix groaned and dropped his forehead to meet yours and you finally pried your eyes back open so you could take in the proximity of his angelic face. “She feels amazing Jinnie…” Felix moaned loudly when you clenched around him and he used the hand that he wasn’t using to hold himself above you to reach down and lift your left leg higher, letting himself push deeper. “I’m not sure how long I’ll last.”
You watched as Felix lifted his head to watch Hyunjin reach down and play with your clit, and they both locked eyes with you when you whined at the sensitivity. Hyunjin smirked playfully and looked back at Felix. The freckled man’s face, which was once holding burning embers, was now looking up at Hyunjin with heart eyes as he towered over the both of you. 
“You gonna get her all wet and ready for me Lix?” Hyunjin asked the younger boy with a smoldering grin, never relenting in the slow torture of his fingers on your clit. Felix nodded frantically and, just like that, he turned back to you with a cocky grin.
“Does it hurt? Can I move, sweet thing?” He lowered his lips back down to your jaw and placed a chaste kiss there while waiting for your answer.
“God, please.” You sighed wistfully.
That was all the incentive he needed to pull all the way back to the tip, and then slam all the way back to your cervix with full force. You cried out in pleasure and he set a brutal pace, Hyunjin’s fingers finally leaving your swollen bundle of nerves to start playing with your nipples and return his lips to your neck. There was no doubt going to be a mess of hickeys all over your body and you trembled at the thought.
With the boys attacking both sides of your neck, you were, again, faced with the man at the end of the bed. He tilted his head and raised his eyebrow at you again to challenge or mock you, you weren’t quite sure which… maybe both. However, with the way he palmed his bulge over his pants, and seeing how the tips of his ears were bright red, he was definitely excited for more.
You were so gone for these men that you wanted to really chalk it up for them. With Felix still pounding into you, you slowly rolled your tongue over your bottom lip before biting down on it and throwing your eyes and head back with the most pornographic moan you could muster.
When you raised your head again, all three men were staring down at you with shock written on their faces. You couldn’t let the embarrassment sink in long, however, because your action brought Felix to his climax.
The sight of Lee Felix’s face during orgasm was like being shot in the heart with a poison that spread heat throughout your every nerve ending. There was no describing it. You could feel the force of his cum shoot deep inside you and you felt dizzy as he rode himself through it.
“Holy hell, love…” He dropped down to kiss you messily. “You’re a goddamned dream…” He leaned back and looked at your sweating and panting form and offered the sweetest of smiles. However, Hyunjin interjected with a slap on Felix’s ass and everyone breathily chuckled at the yelp that escaped his mouth. “Yah!”
“Don’t be a hog, Lixie-ah!” He looked back at you while still talking to Felix. “I’ve been dying to rearrange her insides…” He poked that damned tongue out the side of his mouth and ran his eyes up and down your frame, making you shiver from the intensity.
You winced when Felix’s softening cock was pulled out of you and he retreated from between your legs but gasped when Hyunjin took his place and grabbed both of your ankles. He smiled sinfully at you and propped your legs up on his shoulders as he lined up with you.
Hyunjin was definitely longer than Felix because as he breached your entrance and your breathing picked up again from the delicious feeling of him sliding through your walls, pushing Felix’s seed even deeper inside you, you choked on air when he kept pushing further against your cervix until you felt honest-to-god tears run down your cheeks. He froze just before he was completely flush with you and he looked panicked.
“W-wha– did I– are you o-okay?” He momentarily struggled with his English as he stuttered the words and you quickly wrapped your arms and legs around him when you felt him try to pull out.
“N-no! I’m okay! Gwenchana! Gwenchana!” You put your hand over your mouth at your outburst and giggled at yourself, thankfully making the other men relax as well. “I-I think you might just be too… ahem…” Why were you so shy?
He sweetly smiled and leaned down to kiss you, seemingly understanding your meek words. “Do you want to lead then?”
You really didn’t know what you wanted, but if he kept going at that rate, he might really rearrange your insides. Your shy nod brought an endeared smile to his face and, before you could even prepare yourself, he quickly pulled out and tumbled backward to lay on his back, pulling you on top of him to face the foot of the bed. You gasped and briefly saw Felix and Minho mumbling something off to the side with Minho responding with a cute giggle.
You looked down at Hyunjin who was devouring you with his eyes and running his hands up and down your hips and thighs. “I like seeing you on top of me, baby.” You bit your lip and sprung into action, lifting your hips and grabbing his cock to line him up. Your eyes were glued to his gorgeous face when you slowly lowered yourself down on him and saw his long lashes flutter in euphoria.
There was no getting over how unreal this was. You felt dizzy as every inch of him dragged across your sensitive walls and you slightly jerked your hips up when his tip pushed against your bruised cervix. His face screwed shut as he seemed to try and hold back from fucking up into you.
Honestly, some twisted part of you wanted him to.
When you wiggled your hips back down, you took deep breaths and ground against him until the pleasure started to weigh out the pain. When his hips accidentally twitched up into you, you let out a strangled cry and Hyunjin reached up to cup your face in his hands.
“I’m sorry baby. You just feel so good…”
You naturally leaned down until your lips collided again and all you could respond with was a small ‘more’ mumbled against his lips. His eyes flew open and you planted your hands on each of his pecs, silently pleading with your eyes as you continued to grind against him.
That was when his eyes turned dark and his fingers dug into your hips and ass with bruising force. The powerful thrust that followed had you seeing stars.
He had planted his feet onto the bed and started fucking up into you at a brutal pace, muttering both English and Korean expletives under his breath as his hands moved their grasp to fondle your bouncing breasts. That was when you felt Felix’s presence return and start kissing down your neck to meet one of the nipples that Hyunjin’s fingers were teasing.
You whined loudly and threw your head back when Hyunjin harshly pinched the nipple to allow Felix’s tongue to suck and flick the sensitive bud. You returned your hooded eyes to the men when you felt your breasts being released. The following sight made you want to scream.
Hyunjin had grabbed Felix’s jaw and they stared directly into each other’s eyes when Hyunjin forced two of his fingers into Felix’s mouth. The younger man fluttered his eyes and moaned around the digits, sucking and licking around them enthusiastically.
When Hyunjin finally pulled his fingers away, he and Felix continued to stare at each other for a moment, seemingly frozen in time. You whined when Hyunjin slowed down his hips, and that seemed to knock them out of their trance.
Hyunjin regained his cocky demeanor and lowered his spit-slick fingers down to your clit. One particular thrust sprung tears to your eyes, and you cried out when his fingers started circling around your bliss button. You were far too close to climax and both of the men knew it.
After some strangled mumbling from Hyunjin’s mouth, words completely foreign to you, Felix swiftly stood up on the bed and stood his legs on each side of Hyunjin’s torso. His newly awakened erection stood proud in front of your face and you wasted no time wrapping your lips around it and humming at the taste of your own lingering juices on his skin.
The beautiful man sighed in pleasure and tangled his fingers in your hair, his practiced muscles keeping him balanced as Hyunjin continued to pound into you. You worked your mouth and tongue with gusto and once you wrapped your hands around his length as well, you knew you could get him to cum in no time.
“F-fuck… how are you so fucking *ngh* good at this?” Felix muttered in the deepest voice you’ve ever heard and it made you tighten your pussy around Hyunjin’s cock, earning a beautiful moan from his plump lips. “S-shit, love– I’m cummin’...” Felix tried to pull away, but you just wrapped your arms around him to grab his perky ass and pull him further into the tight ring of your esophagus.
You looked up as you felt the first spurts of cum hit your throat, and you were once again blessed with the beautiful sight of Lee Felix’s face of ecstasy. He heaved for a moment once he was done riding out his high and pulled out of your abused mouth. He looked like he was in a trance when he looked down at you and cupped your jaw. However, when you took a big gulp of the cum swimming around in your mouth, his whole demeanor changed.
Felix lowered himself back down to you as he sat to the side of Hyunjin again, a dangerous smile forming on his angelic face as he closed in on your ear, lightly grazing his teeth over the shell of it. “Tell us what you want, love. I know there is something going on in that pretty head of yours…”
He continued kissing and sucking his way down your neck as he waited for a response. There was no way in hell you would be able to voice what you had been fantasizing about.
However, the longer that you were silent, the more aggressive Felix became. 
Almost as if it was planned, Felix harshly bit your shoulder as Hyunjin grabbed your hips and slammed you down on his cock. The few tears that you were holding back sprang from your eyes now and Hyunjin growled at you. “Felix asked you a question, baby girl. I think you’d better answer it.”
You looked up to Minho with pleading eyes, and all he did was raise an eyebrow at you condescendingly. You whimpered in defeat and lowered your head, not being able to look at any of them in the eyes as the words left your mouth.
“Lixie…?” Said man leaned back to await your response. “C-can you…” Gosh, you were so embarrassed, how would you be able to get the words out?
Your body naturally ground down on Hyunjin due to loss of stimulation, and he landed a powerful slap on your ass because of it, immediately returning his hands to their vice grip on your hips to keep them still.
You whined pathetically and looked between the two boys whose hands were currently rubbing and groping your body simultaneously. You returned your vision to your own hands which were fidgeting against Hyunjin’s chest and took a deep breath.
“Can you… like… kiss Hyunjin’s neck or something?”
You started getting anxious when you didn’t hear a response and you looked up to gauge their reactions. You saw their shocked faces for half a second until Felix grabbed your face and kissed your lips passionately.
“God, you’re a fucking dream.” Felix whispered against your lips and then he immediately turned around to bury his face in the other man’s neck.
Hyunjin immediately groaned while exposing his neck for further access for the Australian boy, and you whimpered a quiet ‘yesss’ when Hyunjin slammed you down on his cock as far as you could go, repeating the action with dizzying force.
Felix did everything you could’ve hoped for and more. He devoured the other man’s slim neck, while running his hands up and down the length of his torso, ending the journey of his fingers on one of the older man’s nipples. 
Hyunjin grunted and built up his pace again, meeting you halfway as you bounced up and down on his throbbing cock. The three of you had a thick sheen of sweat on you and your eyes were glued to the two beautiful men under you.
You just about started to protest when Felix pulled his head away from the patch of skin he was attacking, but what he did next made all the words instantly die on your tongue.
He grabbed Hyunjin’s face with both hands and immediately locked their lips together, tongues soon intertwining in a practiced dance. Your eyes were glued to them so intently, that you didn’t even notice Minho climbing on the bed to press up against your back.
You gasped when you felt him against you with his rock-hard cock pressing between your ass cheeks through his pants. The ghosting of his breath against your neck leading up to your ear made you shiver. “What a dirty girl you are.” You felt him smile against your jaw and instead of kissing the patch of skin as you had anticipated, you felt his hands wrap around you and pinch your nipples hard. 
That is what sent you over the edge and your climax came crashing down like waves rolling over you. The two men separated when they heard you scream out in pleasure from your lingering high so they could watch as you worked through your orgasm. You could feel Hyunjin’s legs shake beneath you as he pistoned up into you violently and you knew he was close as well. 
Hyunjin growled something you couldn’t translate and his hips stuttered with shallow thrusts as he emptied inside you. The wet lips of the eldest that ran up and down your neck and shoulder kept prolonging your orgasm and you twisted your head around so you could curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for a sloppy kiss. You could hear a low growl in the back of his throat and it kept you clenching around Hyunjin’s spent dick.
Hyunjin’s whole body went limp after a few more thrusts and you detached your lips from Minho to pull yourself off of Hyunjin’s twitching dick to collapse between him and Felix. The men smiled at you fondly as they gently ran their fingers up and down the smooth skin of your abdomen and a wave of exhaustion crashed over you. Your eyes were closed and you were panting heavily, trying to get ahold of your bearings.
You took a moment to collect yourself behind your closed lids, however, your eyes flew open when you felt a gentle hand nudge your arm.
What the fuck?
You found yourself tucked snugly underneath the fluffy comforter of the huge bed with only a single light on in the corner of the otherwise dark room. You shifted slightly and realized you were still naked, but you could tell they had cleaned you up before tucking you in. Your eyes followed up to the owner of the gentle hand on your shoulder to be met with a shy-looking Lee Know offering you a bottle of much-needed water. You looked around the rest of the room and found that Felix and Hyunjin were nowhere to be found.
How the fuck did I fall asleep so fast?
You shimmied your way up into a sitting position against the headboard, nodding your head with a small “thank you” in Korean as you gratefully accepted his offering. You guzzled down the water as if you had never tasted anything so delectable in your entire life. Once you finished, he took the empty container from you. “More?” He asked with an adorable head tilt.
You internally swooned and you were sure you looked as dazed as you felt as you looked at the ethereal man. “Please…” You mumbled, eyes completely lost within his own.
He smirked (because of course he knew the effect he had on you) and stood to go retrieve another bottle from the mini-fridge.
Once you had repeated your assault on the second bottle and rejected his offer for another, he sat down next to you on the bed and hesitantly took your hand in his. “How are you feeling?” He shyly asked as he played with your fingers.
As if you weren’t already gone enough for the man, this small considerate question had you even more hopeless than before.
You knew he knew basic English, so you decided to reply simply. “Good, thank you…” You couldn’t stop the bashful smile that bloomed on your face and the crooked smile he gave in return was too much for your eyes (and heart) to handle.
“Hyunjin-ah and Yongbokkie went to bed… um…” He looked up in thought as if he was trying to think of how to say what he wanted in English. “They said they will, um, see you… in morning-time?” He stated the words like a question as if he wasn’t sure if he was conveying the words correctly, you just nodded in understanding. “Are you okay to stay with me tonight?”
You felt electricity shoot up your spine. Who in their right mind would ever deny that kind of invitation? You probably seemed a bit too over-eager as you nodded your head profusely with an immediate “yes!”
He let out the cutest of giggles and hesitantly brought his hand up to brush some of your (surely sex-crazed) hair out of your face. He let his hand linger there as his eyes flickered between both of your own. He muttered a small “cute” in Korean (an easy enough word to translate) and moved to cup your rosy cheek.
“Minho?” He looked startled as you suddenly addressed him by name. You at least knew enough Korean to mutter a small question. “Will you kiss me?” He was definitely caught off guard by your question. His face flushed momentarily, but then he quickly crashed his lips into yours, moving his hands to pull you in by the back of your neck.
You sighed into the kiss and he hummed in response. His tongue tentatively snaked into your mouth and you couldn’t help but think of the duality from his earlier demeanor to the gentle and careful man you were swapping spit with now.
However, that thought was short-lived as his kisses got more and more hungry, his hands gravitating down your back and hips to firmly grope your ass. There was no way you could control the small moan that escaped your mouth as you felt him spread your bare ass cheeks just to release them so they would bounce back to their original place where you were sitting.
You felt the edges of his lips tilt upwards and your body naturally gravitated up on your knees so you could get even closer to him. He then took it upon himself to lift your bare body up by your ass to straddle his seated form. 
Your whole body was sore and you were pretty sure you were cramping from your abused cervix, but you had absolutely zero complaints as you pressed up against the man you had longed for for the longest time. Never did you imagine that you would ever be blessed enough to meet this man, let alone to be in this position on top of him.
You pulled away from the kiss so you could, once again, take in the sight of the god-like-looking man beneath you. His two blown-out orbs stared back at you and you ran your fingers through his silky locks. Your breath hitched in your throat before your raspy voice spoke the words. “I want you, Minho…”
He could barely contain his smile when he quirked his brow. “Oh yeah? Then who do you belong to?” Your eyes widened at his confident English and you bit your lip, eyes drifting up and down his gorgeous body.
“Y-you…” You could feel your rosy cheeks burn furiously.
The hands he was groping your ass with pulled you suffocatingly closer. “Anyone else?” You saw the possessiveness in his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel a bit prideful from it.
“Only you, Minho. Always you…” Before you could even take your next breath, the man had flipped you over to lay your back against the silky sheets once again, his predatory face inches from your own.
You expected him to be harsh and rough you up a bit, but he surprised you. He looked into your eyes with wonder written on his features. “You’re so beautiful, noona…” He said as he stared you down. You felt a shutter wrack your body, but your mind was lost in his eyes.
You could only respond with a wistful sigh and he eventually lowered his head to bury in the crook of your neck. The wet heat of his lips against your pulse made you melt into the sheets and you moaned when he fixed himself between your legs, pressing his clothed erection against your wet clit.
His hands gently grabbed your arms and slowly raised them above your head, his fingers gliding up your skin to eventually grasp your hands as he ground against you. His lips trailed down your chest to your breast so he could suck one of your abused nipples into his mouth.
When you mewled, he propped himself up on his knees so he could rid himself of his shirt and your eyes widened as your hands moved unbidden to glide over the toned skin of his abdomen. He studied your face as your fingers explored his chest, gliding all the way down to the waistband of his sweatpants. You licked your lips at the delectable sight of his raging boner and your fingers played with the edge of the fabric, your gaze drifting back up to meet his smoldering eyes. 
He took it upon himself to stand and remove both his pants and boxers and holy shit… how was his dick drop-dead gorgeous too?! The man eagerly returned to his spot between your legs only, this time, it was his face hovering over your cunt. He gently raised his hands to lightly flick your nipples, making you squeak and then moved his feather-light touch down your body to finally gain purchase on the back of your knees.
Your breathing started to pick up when he hoisted your thighs over his shoulders so you could feel his hot breath fan over your sensitive labia. His eyes, which had been fixated on yours the entire time, finally drifted down to stare at your glistening folds and he closed his eyes in bliss when he finally sucked them into his mouth and moved his tongue through them to find your throbbing clit.
You wanted to cry it felt so good. You didn’t know if he was just a god at eating pussy or if it was just the fact that it was him doing it that brought you to the edge so quickly, but the sensation overwhelmed you too much to think about it. You cried his name over and over again and when he finally snaked his tongue inside you, you grabbed his hair and wailed.
“Oh my god, Minho! Yes! Fuck– holy sh– ngh! Yesyesyes right there! Fff–” You looked down at the gorgeous face in between your legs and you could see a smile in his eyes as you came all over his face. “Ah– Ahhhhh!” You had never had an orgasm so intense and you wanted to reward him for it.
When you finally came down from your high, you pulled him off of you and moved him to stand. He looked confused as you maneuvered him, but quickly changed his demeanor when you took his cock in your hand and swallowed him in one go, making him choke on his own breath. “H-holy fuck–” He gasped.
He was too big to deep throat, but you used all the tricks in the book to give him the best head he has ever had and by the way he was responding, you assumed you were succeeding. He was groaning and kept switching from throwing his head back in ecstasy and looking down at you with fire in his eyes. His jaw was clenched and he was definitely holding back from just full-on fucking your face.
Part of you wanted him to. You wanted him to absolutely wreck your throat until you couldn’t speak anymore, but your aching pussy overpowered that desire. You needed him buried inside you right fucking now.
He puffed out a huge breath that he had apparently been holding when you pulled off of him with a *pop* and crawled backward to spread your legs invitingly. He wasted no time in pouncing on top of you to assault your lips and you whimpered against his mouth when you felt him tease the tip of his penis between your folds.
You whined against his lips. “M-Minho… p-please I need you so badly… please…” He smiled devilishly.
“Fuck, jagiya. You’re perfect…” He used the hand that wasn’t being used to hold himself above you and grabbed you by the jaw to look straight into his hooded eyes. Your pupils were surely blown out and your eyes were gaping as he slowly pushed his way inside you. The stretch was somewhat painful with how thick he was, but the pleasure weighed out the pain once he reached your beaten-up cervix.
“F-fuck, Min…” Your hands scrambled to hold onto something to keep you grounded and one ended up digging into his back and the other grabbed onto his hair, making him groan.
“Gwenchana?” His eyes had squeezed shut in euphoria and you’re sure he didn’t even realize he had switched back to Korean.
You whispered back against his lips, unable to speak any louder. “Gwenchana…” You reassured.
He opened his eyes and for the first time that night, you saw him smile at you with the fondest grin you had ever seen from the man. The drag against your walls was delicious as he pulled back and the both of you cried out into each other’s mouths when he thrust back into you.
A single tear fell from your eye from the overwhelming pleasure and he sweetly ran his thumb over it to wipe it away. He gave you one last gentle kiss before he pulled back out to the tip again and then slammed into you full force. You threw your head back as you cried out and his lips latched onto your neck as he changed his pace to pummel into you at a dizzying rate.
Your body bounced back and forth against the soft sheets and his name fell from your mouth in a non-stop mantra. He, once again, took one of your legs and folded it to throw over his shoulder so he could bury himself even deeper into your cunt, if that was even possible.
Everything about him was perfect and you couldn’t stop the tears that ran down the sides of your face from the amount of pure euphoria you felt in that moment. His lips covered every inch of your clavicle in dark marks and you surprisingly found his possessiveness as a turn-on.
You whimpered, moaned, and cried out your ecstasy and he bored his eyes into your own all the while. “Fuck, noona… you feel so good… so tight and wet for me…” He leaned down to groan against your lips. 
You whined in response, once again surprised by his confident English. “For you, Lino. All for you…” That statement made something inside him snap and he growled right before he pistoned into you full force and dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder, moving a strong hand to furiously rub your clit all the while.
You basically screamed out his name as your orgasm reached its full peak and your walls squeezed him impossibly tight. His teeth clamped down onto your shoulder to muffle his cry of pleasure and he came so hard you could almost taste it.
He pumped both of you through your orgasms as his mouth moved to mesh with your own, sucking, biting, and licking each other's lips lazily. Once he slowly halted to a stop and relinquished his assault on your mouth, he stood up and languidly walked to the bathroom. You heard running water and then saw the naked Adonis return with a suppressed smile.
He held out a hand and, without question or hesitation, you took it. You yelped when you were suddenly lifted into his arms and carried to the source of the running water, soon after, being lowered into a luxurious bathtub with the scent of essential oils washing over your senses. He quickly climbed in behind you and the feeling of yourself laid back against the naked body of Lee Minho in the blissful heat of a five-star bathtub soothing your aching muscles was almost orgasmic.
“How do you feel?” Minho wrapped his arms around you and whispered against your ear right before he started peppering kisses along your neck.
You turned your head to capture his lips with your own. “I feel like I’m in heaven.” You responded with a smile against his lips. He returned your smile and slightly pulled back to look into your eyes.
“I’m excited for you to meet the other members tomorrow.” His eyes shined brightly, proud of his confident English, but you could still detect the danger in them. “But remember…” He squeezed you with the arms he had wrapped around your midriff. “You’re mine.”
You giggled and pressed another kiss to his lips. “Hmmm…” A sly remark passed through your head. “I think I might need some more convincing.” You said teasingly.
“Oh really?” You saw an evil glint gloss over his eyes and you jumped when you felt the man pinch your clit. “Want more?” You could already feel him sporting a semi against your ass and you were amazed by his stamina.
You quickly turned around to straddle the man and he held you by your hips as you wrapped your arms around him. “Absolutely.”
__________________________________________
If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! Sorry if you weren't expecting it, but, in the end, Lee Know always ends up being a top priority for me. 😆
Please like, follow, and share! Thanks baby stays! 😘
2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist
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olderthannetfic · 2 months
Note
Getting this off my chest:
Back from a small fanfic hiatus, and I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the fic authors now practically begging their readers to READ THE TAGS.
I’ve been seeing this warning written in summaries, in author’s notes, highlighted in all caps in the actual tags. I’ve read so many apologies written by authors in the comments in response to people chastising the author for writing what they wanted to write, for what they tagged correctly — for what essentially comes down to nothing more than having had other people actively ignore their tags or read despite them.
And there seems to be this bizarre, somehow largely accepted idea that it is the creators job and responsibility to beseech their readers to ‘use caution’ and to ‘stay safe’, to ‘be mindful of their health’…
I am beyond confused here.
Since when??? did exercising the most basic form of common sense and acknowledging one’s personal yeas and nays, likes and limitations, become some other random stranger’s burden rather than one’s own? And especially a random person who tagged their work correctly??? Does no one remember how to harness their own powers of discernment and self-regulation???
This little jaunt back onto ao3 has been unlike any that I’ve ever experienced before. What. Happened?????? Who is this new, apparently severely emotionally unstable and obstinately tags-reading resistant audience everyone has come to focus on?
It all feels so out of touch. The basic concept of ao3 is for the reader to seek out what they want, not what they don’t want. And to actually read. But there seems to have been an extremely strong shift away from reading. On ao3. A site built specifically for reading and writing. (And other fandom artistic pursuits, but not my focus, atm; though I’m sure whatever this is has crept steadily into all spaces there.)
Plummeting reading comprehension must be somewhat to blame; the popularity of fanfic amongst younger and wider audiences, as well. But… young people have always been there, as far as my own experiences go, and it was never like this. It’s as if too many readers don’t know how to make good or even practical decisions for themselves anymore, that they’ve lost the skill of choosing, and now believe that they must consume everything that passes before them; — that they have, for some reason, adopted the belief that any turmoil or dislike or discomfort felt within themselves is harm purposely being done to them by the author.
Idk. Idk, idk, idk. It’s just such a bummer to see how much nervousness and distress has entered the community. Authors notes and comments used to be hilarious fun, or a peek into someone else’s real-life world, used to be casual and full of personality, whereas nowadays, there seems to be an underlying hesitancy and distrust, a sort of growing divide between writers and readers, groups which, until recently, very much were not mutually exclusive.
--
Idiots have been around forever. The more you cater to them, the more entitled they get. It's best to shut that shit down fast and use no warnings that indicate a willingness to entertain stupid complaints.
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kivino · 6 months
Text
OUT OF THE SHADOWS I || SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY X SHADOW!GN!READER
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Word counter – ~6.9k words
Tags/Warnings – Gn!Reader, Shadow!Reader (it’s not for long lol, don’t get your hopes up), murder of civilians/corpses/blood mentioned, physical fights, reader likes to throw fists, Reader’s callsign is Bug to pay tribute to my original idea.
Summary – After the betrayal of Task Force 141 and the slaughter of civilians in Las Almas you decide to leave Shadow Company on the spot, which works out sideways, leaving you with simmering hate towards the man whom you used to look up to and new interesting figures in your life. 
also available on my ao3!
a/n after the fic because they’re too long. but just know that this is the first chapter of the series, feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part. enjoy!
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Everything was calm. The sound of rain covering up the murmur of trucks helped you wind down after the adrenaline rush, and a sense of accomplishment for a job well done swelled in your chest. You already anticipated a long sleep and maybe a night out with your friends when you’re back home from the job. Maybe you’d even get a bonus from Graves and buy something nice for yourself. 
In all honesty, you didn’t even mind being crammed into the backseat along with those 141 guys. Working with them was a pleasure and they seemed like an interesting sort of crowd. Especially that man with the skull mask. Ghost, was it? He certainly attracted your attention the most, with his huge size, booming voice, and undeniable skill in what he did. You were willing to admit that the way he took out the enemies with ease and swiftness was mesmerizing.  And…your train of thought that consisted of pure fascination was interrupted by the abrupt stop of the convoy in front of the base gate. 
Everything was calm until you were surrounded by shouting and then eventual gunshots, along with muffled screams of your brothers in arms. You didn’t understand how it all escalated so fast. One moment you were sure about Shadow Company and Task Force 141 being on the same side, but now you didn’t know what to think of it all. And from Graves' words, it was apparent that Shepherd was behind this too. So naturally you, and many other shadows, the lower ranks, had no fucking clue what all of this was about. One would care to tell a mindless weapon where to shoot, but not why. Blood rushed through your veins and pulsed in your ears, turning the pleasant buzz in your body into strained sharpness. You hurriedly pulled up the rear sight to your eye level. Two bodies dropped to the wet asphalt with soft thuds right in front of you. You felt your heart sink right down to your feet. Instead of firing your shots, you hesitated, backing out to hide behind the bumper of the truck, while hearing agitated, aggressive shouts. You weren’t able to tell who was shouting. So, you leaned out and felt yourself freeze in place. 
And there he is. Ghost, eyes locked right on you. He sure has a…strong presence. And instead of shooting you he just…looks. You don’t like the stupid flowery language, but in this split second, it really feels like he is staring right into your soul. Or like someone is sticking metal rods right through your chest, with how hard breathing becomes in an instant. 
You knew that if you were to shoot him right now, you’d never forgive yourself, all because you were kept in the dark about the whole thing Graves had planned. And you were not willing to get blood on your hands because of some “mistake”. If you pull the trigger, there will be one less person who’s able to make a change. One less person who’ll be willing to get their hands dirty and save people. 
So, you lower the muzzle of your rifle and nod to the side, urging him to start his getaway, before other Shadows and Graves decide to check the perimeter. You see his dark eyes blink, or at least you think you do before he disappears into the darkness. Like he was never there in the first place.
In the end, you didn’t get even a single scratch. Three other Shadows were K.I.A.
Your head buzzed with so many different questions you wanted to ask Graves, and more importantly, the guilt you felt from whatever happened in front of the threshold. You had no idea what happened with that Los Vaquero base or what was up with your CO, while you were escorting him and those 141 guys along with several other Shadows for this mission. Why was he taking it? What was he even thinking? You wanted to pull out your hair and claw out your eyes just thinking about all of it. Which, you weren’t paid to do, but that didn’t mean you weren’t concerned with the moral side of things. Unlike the majority of the Shadows, as you came to find out.
Confusion bubbled up inside of your mind, eyes burned by the white synthetic light of the gate when you looked up at it just to feel something aside from sheer distress and bewilderment. You didn’t want to believe that your Commander was the type of person to sell himself out, and you didn’t expect him to be, from all the time spent working with him. The man was nothing short of likable and friendly, with his beaming smile, confident attitude, and outgoing way of communicating… a natural-born leader, that was the first thing that came to mind when you thought about your boss. And with how Graves treated you and all other Shadows like you were more than just his employees, the realization was even more painful. Of course, you didn’t want to think about how he could so easily turn his back on people who trusted him.
It raised many questions in your mind about the price of his word, as well as made your stomach churn with acidic, flesh-eating poison full of doubt and suspicion. If it was so easy for your CO to cut out the men someone he told you all to think of as your brothers, then how long will it be before he sells you and other shadows out for…whatever was offered to him? 
“Find ‘em!” Graves barks and your chest swells with bitter disappointment. You thought you knew him before (as much as a subordinate can know their superior), but how can you even begin to understand him now?
You hear Shadows mutter a quiet “Yup-yup”, more to themselves than to your CO, and you could almost feel the doubt settle over them in a thick, transparent blanket. From the conversations you can pick up on while Graves is out of earshot, you guess that some of them don’t think betraying the 141 guys and trying to hunt the two of them down is the right thing to do. But it didn’t seem like they were going to do anything about it though. You, however, want to help. You know that it’s not right, so…screw it. You can always find another job, and if it comes down to it, 141 seem like an okay sort of people, the type that would have your back if you had theirs. At least, you have hope for it.
So maybe you could hold out until they come back for Los Vaqueros. And you were certain they’d do that, no way they’d abandon all these men. You haven’t seen how the things were on said base that was taken from them, but you were certain you could do more on the inside than if you were to leave right now. Maybe you could break Colonel out of there, or help the Task Force sneak in, you were sure they could use any help from you. 
That was the plan before you saw what Shadow Company did to Las Almas.
The picture that Shadows were painting with innocent blood on the rainy landscape was horrifying, to say the least. The metallic smell hit your nose the moment you jumped out of the truck right onto the flooded pavement. That was the exact moment when you realized you couldn’t stay with Shadows any longer. You were supposed to help these people. It was your job. Instead, you felt filthier than the dirt on your boots. Traitor. Backstabber. You choked on your breath behind the mask each time you noticed the bodies of the victims in every dark corner of the city, nausea coming up your throat when you could see rivers of crimson streaming down the road and right into the sewers. Your Shadow Company patch felt like the mark of a killer, etched into your skin permanently, instead of just being part of your uniform.
Limp bodies that didn’t even have the time to grow cold yet, scattered around warm homes. Some of the killed were probably already in their beds sleeping, coming back from work, watching TV, or cooking dinner when they got dragged out under the rain and massacred…Everything felt like a blur, your thoughts were a jumbled mess of whys, while you were led further into the town, to continue the revolting, disgusting crimes of your brothers-in-arms. You couldn’t stand to spend another minute in here. You need to get out before you do something you’ll never be able to forgive yourself for. You were many things, but you were not willing to go that far. Not here, not anywhere. 
“Hey. Where’s Graves?” You tap another Shadow, your “close colleague” with a callsign Kruk, on the shoulder. He turns to you, while you see several other soldiers passing by, yellow streetlights barely illuminating their swiftly moving figures. You knew why it was hard for you to even look in their direction. Kruk points towards the building to the left of you two and croaks something about “briefing the rookies”. You nod and thank him, stumbling in the general direction he pointed you to. 
“Commander, with all due respect, I think it’s time for you to discharge me.” You only came to your senses when you stood in front of your CO in the cramped space of someone’s living room. Wallpaper, creamy in color, dulled lights, tons of decorative cushions on the couch… Your voice is quiet, but firm, not leaving any space for compromise when you speak up to the blond man, and your politeness is as fake as this copy of “Guernica” you could see hanging on the wall. Blood pulses in your ears. You want to leave, you want out. Out of here.
“Bug, now’s not the time for jokes, I need you on the field now. We’ve got our orders.” Graves barely raises his eyes from tapping something on the tablet, that usual scowl that you got used to present on his face. His actions are as ugly as he is. Him not taking you seriously sure does a number on your confidence. But that only reassures you in your decision. You need out. 
“Do I look like I’m joking? I’m leaving, because I don’t think what we’re doing is right.” You try to stay calm, you really do. But how can you, when out of something so vile he makes a joke? Makes all these people a sick joke.
A crease lies between your brows, and shadows falling over your eyes make your face look similar to a carved statue. Before talking to Graves, you decided to take off the eyewear that obscures your face and pull down the thin mask, the signatures for Shadows who are lower in the chain of command. You’re the faceless sort, after all.  “And I don’t think you know your place.” You’re instantly taken aback by his sudden outburst, but you don’t let it show. “I point and you shoot. I sign your paychecks, Bug, and you take them.” You feel something inside of you flinch at the way he mutters your callsign. “I’m in charge. You don’t have a say in what we do.” With each statement, his gloved finger points from him to you, making the rage and frustration boil inside of your chest. You trusted Graves and he led all of your colleagues, along with you to dragging out unarmed, innocent people in the dead of night out of their houses on their streets and executing them. Hell of a leader he is. 
“Well, I’m stepping down. If that’s what we do, I don’t want to take part in it.” You wanted to tell him a lot more, give Graves a piece of your mind on war crimes and killing people in their own homes. On how drowning Las Almas in blood won’t fix whatever the fuck he was trying to fix right now. Instead, you kept it to yourself, tightening your fists just so you didn’t spit in his face or punch him.
“You’re putting a target on your back. Do you not understand how what you’re saying makes you look?” Graves leans in closer to you, the low volume of his voice making it even more threatening, similar to the hissing of a snake. Give him a minute and he will start spewing real venom right in your face. 
“You know that whatever you’re thinking is not true.” To be completely honest, you didn’t care what he thought right now. Graves’ mind and morals were clearly in the wrong place if he considered all this bloodshed justified. 
“Do I really? A moment ago I was sure that you were my subordinate, now I’m not even sure what to make of you.” You’re barely able to resist rolling your eyes at this. Your heart is picking up the pace with each minute. Getting more and more desperate to leave your body altogether, just so you don’t have to listen to his bullshit any longer. You wish it was that easy.
“I’m not taking orders from you. Not anymore.” Saying this took a lot more out of you than you expected, you felt your chest tremble when you met your CO’s eyes.
“Well, would you just look at that, you happen to be a fan of our local drug lord too?” If eyes could kill, Graves would’ve dropped dead right this moment. He smiles, his sharp canines peeking from under his top lip. He knows he’s making your skin crawl and your stomach flip from this interaction, which, if you’re lucky, would be the last for the two of you. “Helping the cartel and corrupt police won’t look too good on your resume”
“I see you’re just making it up as you go.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you held in your chest. Shaky. Uneven. Infuriated. Your eyes are drilling Graves’, a deep frown between them as proof of how much you despise him now, for the baseless assumption too. After a moment of silence, you add. “You know what my stance on this is. Whether I get your approval or not, I’m leaving.” Graves finally withdraws from your personal space, sliding the palm over his face with a heavy sigh, as his lips tighten into a thin line. You knew that this combination meant he was trying to calm down. After a moment of silence, he speaks up again. 
“Look, Bug, you’re a smart kid and frankly, I like you.” he makes a short pause, sighing. “So, I’ll give you a fighting chance. Five minutes – if you’re not out of the city, then you’re a target.” He wasn’t that fucking courteous with the civilians that lay dead a few meters away. Shot on sight. Without any questions. You grit your teeth.
What are you supposed to do with that? Those five minutes didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, most likely, you’ll be rotting in the ditch somewhere shortly after your time runs out - too little to get out of the city or find the Task Force you so desperately wanted to help. Graves won’t leave any witnesses. And you are one. He knows it’s not going to be easy for you to just turn on the Shadows like that too, even though you despised what they were doing while following his orders. They still were your family. Dysfunctional and disproportionately big, but family, nonetheless. Even if they deserved it for their lack of action to prevent what was happening now, you don’t turn on your family like that. What he’s doing is forcing your hand.
Regardless, you have no choice but to take Graves up on his last “generous” offer.
“What are you waiting for, hm? Get out of here while you can.” You didn’t need to be told that twice. So, still balancing your rifle on your arm, your free hand reaches for that patch on your shoulder. Tearing it off in a quick motion makes the sound of Velcro strips snapping open almost echo from how quiet it is. It felt like a whole mountain dropped off of your shoulders when you threw the patch on the ground and stormed out of the building right into the pouring rain.
You felt goosebumps and tremors creeping up your spine as you ran through the dark streets, getting more and more soaked with each second. You didn’t feel much better though. The resentment for Graves grew each second, with all the steps that sent ripples on the surface of the deep puddles, and every raindrop that fell from the copper-colored clouds. But now wasn’t the time to wallow in your misery. Although you wanted to. It did feel like the loss of a person you used to know, of someone you looked up to. The only thing is, he was still living and breathing, and the only thing that died was that idealized image of him in your head. 
There was a cold hollowness somewhere in your chest. Gaping with the darkness that, and you were sure of it, will eat you alive soon enough. Even though you backed out of the Shadow company, it won’t bring back all the people who are not here anymore. You won’t fix it, no matter how hard you try. That bitter guilt snaked its way into the back of your mind and it was there to help stay. 
You managed to pull yourself out of this to make things right. But why do you feel so helpless still?
Your footsteps get faster and faster, as you maneuver through the narrow alleyways, staying out of the range your former colleagues were in. It was easy to hear them, gunshots and voices echoed throughout the city in a weird cacophony that your ears got used to after a long time working for the Shadow Company. They were not afraid, probably feeling like masters here. Somebody has to give them a scare, you thought. So they know better in the future. But it wasn’t your job at the moment. Right now, you needed to get out and do it as soon as possible.
Stopping and coming up with any sort of plan that would help you was not an option - hang in somewhere for too long and you’ll be found. And you were sure you wouldn’t be shown any mercy. 
So instead of staying on the street, where you can be easily spotted with the help of the dim light of a flashlight, you decide to alternate between the corridors of empty homes, with doors wide open for anyone seeking shelter, and the maze of alleyways crawling with Shadows. It felt wrong, invading someone’s homes like this, but you knew if they were unlocked and lights beamed around them, giving out a warm glow the inhabitants were most likely not coming back.
You felt that tingle on the nape of your neck, ready to hide or flee in case you heard any sudden movement from any direction. It’s dead quiet, except for occasional radio talk from the shadows, which you tried to listen in on when you could. It didn’t give you much on where 141 could be. You would start losing hope if you had any left after Graves. But you continue your search nonetheless, reflexes instead of thinking, pure determination instead of hope, and fire in your veins, instead of blood.
That is until you quietly step inside another warm hallway, and you’re met with a wide-eyed stare from another Shadow that makes you freeze like a deer in the headlights. Something inside of you starts to churn with terror from the looming understanding – only one of you will walk out of here alive. Your eyes trail down to the raven patch on his tac vest. It’s Kruk. You want to ask what he is doing here, but you already feel his gaze studying you too. And as soon as he sees that the Shadow Company patch is missing from your uniform, the muzzle of his rifle points right at you. Fucking shit.
“Drop your gun, Kruk!” You warn the man, pointing the weapon in his direction too. He only shakes his head, refusing to stand down. With each second air is laced with tension more and more, you were sure that soon enough it’ll be so thick even a knife wouldn’t cut through it.
“You drop yours first.” His voice is shaky and unsure like he can’t believe what he’s doing right now either. “Commander gave us an order. You’re an enemy now too, Bug. Better get used to it.” Kruk started slowly approaching you, while pulling something out of the bag, strapped on his hip.
“Oh, fuck that!” You swing towards Kruk, trying to approach him in your momentary rage, but you’re immediately met with the warning “Don’t” from Kruk, who doesn’t stand down. “You know what they’re doing here. It doesn’t matter to you?” The man is silent. You don’t see his face behind his mask, so you’re left with even more questions instead of answers. Regardless of what he was thinking right now, you didn’t want to hurt him. So, you bend down and put your rifle on the ground with a quiet clack. If he needs a gesture of goodwill, he can have it. “Your turn.” Kruk only shakes his head.
“Turn around.” So, it was a mistake to trust him. Naturally. Your gullibility will be your downfall. You can almost feel the bitter taste spread inside of your mouth when you look at Kruk. Fucking asshole. But you comply, although reluctantly. He grabs you roughly by the wrists with one hand and by the neck with another, leading you toward what looks like a kitchen in the dim lights falling through the doorway. You get lowered on your knees and then pressed into the dirty floor. And it hits right then and there. He’s going to execute you. Oh, shit, shit, shit.
“You know that I don’t want to do this.” He says quietly so that any shadows passing by don’t hear him. You feel your heartbeat shake your whole body and nausea so intense like you are on the verge of throwing up all of your internal organs, but giving up is just not an option right now. So, you try to prevent him from tying your hands together with all the strength you have.
“Then don’t fucking do it!” He does not answer this as you continue squirming in his hold, trying to make it as hard as possible for him to restrain you. He only grunts but keeps a firm grip. Your head was a mess, you thought Shadows were a family. But all it took was one order from Graves, now they’re scouring the town like damn bloodhounds for you too.
“Get…off of me!” You grit through your teeth. You feel a zip tie slide over your hands and turn your head. The rifle he previously held in his hands was gone, probably so he could tie you up properly, so you take your chance and deliver a hard kick to Kruk’s stomach. He chokes out a pained gasp and finally lets go of your hands. You scurry to get up from the floor with wide smears of rainwater and dirt decorating it, but you get grabbed by the leg, which causes you to stumble and fall once again. You turn your head and kick Kruk with all your might, while attempting to take off the zip tie off your wrists, which, thankfully, he didn’t have the time to close.
You manage to shake the man off of you, as you scramble to your feet, knocking over a corner table with some decorations on it. Yet when you see Kruk fumbling with his hip holster you immediately tackle him to the ground, which causes him to drop the handgun. The whole fight is just a mess, nothing but blinding rage is pulsing in your temples, melting your bones and muscles into something no better than an animal. You get up again, while Kruk is on the floor, searching for the handgun in the darkness. You feel the heavy metal press against your boot and you kick it behind you. You hear it slide across the floor and here it is. Kruk’s eyes, are directed right at you. His hands claw at your leg, trying to drag you down to the floor. And then you black out completely. Kicking, punching, pained wheezes and screams are all you hear, a stuffy abyss with little to no specks of light surrounding you.
You come back to your senses when you don’t feel the familiar weight of your handgun pressing against your hip and then you see it again. Kruk managed to grab it while you were in your anger-induced frenzy. Everything around you slows down. His shaky fingers pull on the safety, but you reach out and grab his hands, pulling them up, not letting him aim at you. Kruk grunts and you see his eyes focused on you in fear, and desperation, as he tries to overpower you in the struggle. You see his weakened state, but the self-preservation is stronger than any compassion towards him at the moment. Kruk will take your life if you don’t take his. That’s just the gist of it. You can’t let him walk away.
Your hands tremble when he manages to overpower you momentarily, but it’s all in vain when you press the handgun harder and harder into his frame, feeling his hands start to yield more and more with each second, strength leaving him. The fear in his eyes is directed at you and only you, but you try not to look. The muzzle of your gun is pressed snugly under his chin. Your gaze trails to his eyes once again. They burn you with terror. Your fingers hook around the trigger guard. You hear a faint whisper.
“Please…”
Gunshot rings in your ears for another second, despite the earmuffs in your helmet.
“Fuck! Fuck…I’m so sorry…I’m sorry.” It all came crashing down on you in one moment. You wouldn’t feel guilty if it was the enemy, you wouldn’t care. He was an enemy now, so why do you feel so guilty, why is it starting to corrode and eat you alive even more? Your palms cover the profusely bleeding gunshot wound, going through his neck and cranium, hot blood pouring out with impossible speed, staining your hands, gear, and skin. Staining your whole being. How could you do something like this? Shadows are family. Killing an unarmed man who’s pleading for his life?
You’re no better than Graves.
The gunshot alerts the Shadows and they start scurrying around on the street. You have no time to mourn Kruk or search for your rifle in the dark, so you yank your handgun out of his hands which only started succumbing to rigor mortis, and sprint out the backdoor, desperately attempting to get away. You can feel your heartbeat booming in your ears, wet hair sticking to the nape of your neck, as you hear distant commotion and a chase stirring behind you, as you dart inside another building and run through the hallways, searching for a way out.
Back on the street, rain droplets are so cold that it feels like they’re splitting your skin open, you can barely feel the pain in your ankle from adrenaline pumping through your blood flow. You start slipping on the slick pavement, but you still refuse to stop, diving inside another doorway. Your head hurts, your lungs feel like they are about to explode, and you think you stepped into a puddle of someone’s blood. No time to ram through the locked door, so you jumped out of the second-story window and landed on your foot, twisting it in the process and swallowing the sob that welled up in your throat. You needed to move.
That bought you some time to get up and dip into the dark alleyway before you heard the loud footsteps approaching the window that you used to escape. You let out a heavy exhale, propping your back against the cold stone. You’re not completely safe, but…that’s better than nothing. The commotion of shadows quiets down and you hear it become more and more distant with each second. 
After a moment of silence, you continue moving, albeit slowly, trying to get used to the hot pulsing in your leg, that shot up right through your nerves with each step you tried to take. You wince and whine in pain, dragging your leg behind, grabbing at the moist stone walls, clinging to them for any sort of support. However, it’s not much of a help. 
Your escape is cut short when your legs finally give out, causing you to stumble and fall while crossing the church garden. Although it probably looked magical in the daylight, right now it was far from it, the smell of metal and smoke still lacing the darkness. You already feel your ankle swelling and some bruises forming under all your gear. You see the lights on the exterior of the church blend into the ribbon of lights and shadows and the thought crosses your mind. You can hide there.
You almost fly up the stairs despite the hurting leg, fumbling with the door for a second, before it creaks open. You shuffle inside with light steps and close the door behind you as quietly as you can. Your knees tremble as you slide down the cold wall and crawl further inside the building, barely feeling any strength left in you. God, you are so drained. Strained gasps are ripped out of your throat every second. You want nothing more than to lie down right there in this church and just let the darkness overtake you in a peaceful slumber. That would be so easy.
Your calm moment is interrupted by someone yanking you up on your feet, to which you let out a surprised yelp. You can’t see the person, but you can feel their hands tugging on your gear roughly and dragging you somewhere. It takes you a second to weigh your pretty limited options given the fact it’s so dark that you are barely able to make out your surroundings. So, you decide to take this fight head on and your heavy boot comes down right on their foot, which prompts the person to grunt, revealing a pretty low male voice, and let go of you.
You tear out from his grasp and almost tumble down to the church floor, bunching up dust with your loud, uneven footsteps. Your back is hunched as you look up at the dark figure from under your eyebrows, ready to deflect any blows if he decides to attack first. You stay silent, feeling like a cornered animal in his presence, small, feeble. Weak. Of course, you were at a disadvantage here, taking a beating, running from Shadows, twisting your ankle, and losing your rifle certainly didn’t help your chances to win, but you were ready to claw your way out of here with your bare hands, breaking your nails and skinning your hands if you had to.
But any punches or kicks you try to land the man easily deflects or blocks, not trying to attack or overpower you however, opting to just take up the defensive position in the fight. Which is, admittedly, a lot easier than taking the offensive one. Maybe he was aiming to exhaust you and then, when you are at your lowest point, he would attack. That seemed like a solid tactic, but you don’t want to let that happen. However, before you can think of anything you end up rolling with the man on the floor. You can hear him huff in frustration and exertion, the wood pressing harshly against your ribs and all the bruises on your lower body pulsing with pain.
After some struggle, however, you managed to tackle the man to the ground, pressing him down to the floor with your weight. Your hands snaked their way onto his neck as you glared at him, resisting the urge to bare your teeth akin to a stray, abused, and betrayed dog, crawling with fleas and parasites. Choking him out obviously wasn’t a nice thing to do, but you were trying to send a message here, that if you continue being followed, you will use your strength. If violence was the only language Shadows understood (and that’s who you believe the man was) then you were ready to become fluent.
“I swear, I’ll fucking kill you!” You press him into the floor harder, hands squeezing the man’s throat, your vision going blurry. You feel his hands grasp at your wrists, but he does not resist. Why is he not trying to shake you off? Why is he letting you choke him like this? Why is he not fighting back? 
“Let go, Bug.” The man’s voice is strained, but familiar, he whispers through his closed jaw. You can hear the way his throat tenses up, or his Adam’s apple bobs under your thick gloves, the warmth of his skin, and the moisture that seeped into the mask. Mask. More light falls through the window thanks to the momentary flicker of the streetlight. Skull. Eight lines on his chin, two on the forehead. Dark brown eyes.
Your hands shoot up like his neck is on fire. Guilt settles in your gut and your throat, pulling you in like you’re some puppet with no free will. You try to get up from the man’s midsection but tumble down on your side from trying to do it too quickly. It’s Ghost. How the hell did you not recognize Ghost?
“I’m sorry. I’m not…myself right now.” You were now sitting on the floor, palms resting on your face, wet from the rain, skin burning up, either trying to regulate the temperature or from all the exertion. Either way, it didn’t matter right now.
“Yeah, you made it pretty obvious.” Ghost coughs, trying to shake off your attempt to cut off his air circulation just seconds ago, as he gets up from his lying position. “At least now I know you’ve got a good grip.” He lets out a deep chuckle which only earns him an eyebrow raise from you. He was joking at a time like this? Must’ve hit his head pretty hard too.
“I could’ve choked you. Why did you not fight back more?” You were royally confused about that. He could’ve stopped the fight before it even began and avoided some bruises along with the sore neck if he just told you who he was or fought back. But he didn’t.
Ghost wants to say something, but stops himself right after opening his mouth. You see it in the way he looks at you. The pause stretches for an endless amount of time and you feel your skin crawling with anxiety while his eyes study your face.
“I was going easy on ya.” Ghost says in a rather blunt manner, which didn’t answer that many of your questions. Well, if he was going easy, he should’ve been at least going at you, which wasn’t true – you saw him only defending himself and blocking some of your blows. Did he?.. Was he trying not to hurt you? Okay, the more you thought about it, the wilder it sounded. Maybe you should just drop it. “I don’t suppose you came here to wash your sins away.” You want to scoff from the bad taste. “Lil’ birdie told me you ditched the Shadows. Any particular reason why?” The man inquires, turning to you. Sitting like this on the floor with him felt unusual, like some sort of weird church sleepover. Give Ghost a minute and he’ll bring you some ice cream so you two can watch some wacky TV shows together.
“Did your little birdie also tell you that Graves is hunting me down too?” You ask while pulling your drenched mask over your face. It brought some comfort and familiarity that were gone the moment you spoke to your CO in that living room. And, well, it would be awkward if Ghost was the only one in the mask.
“I guessed by the gunshots, some racket, and a horde of Shadows taking a night run through the neighborhood close by.” The man chuckles and you feel your face burn up in embarrassment under your mask. You try not to let it show, however. You knew that it wasn’t a very sleek move that you pulled with Kruk, but you were desperate and you didn’t need motherfucking Ghost telling you it was stupid. 
“You’re just hilarious. Is that how you became a lieutenant, by cracking jokes left and right?” You roll your eyes and hope he won’t notice it in the darkness. This banter was pointless, you knew it but…you needed it. It was not easy losing something familiar, so you desperately wanted to feel that camaraderie you experienced in the Shadows.
“You’ll find out once you’re a lieutenant yourself.” And Ghost indulges you. Which, you are thankful for. Isn’t such a scary guy after all, huh?
“Yeah, if I’m alive long enough.” You scoff at his concealed attempt to comfort and reassure you, but you can’t help that warm feeling in your chest. Weird.
“Well, you’ve already surpassed my expectations by staying alive until now.” The man stands up from the floor with a low grunt, pressing an arm around his midsection, right around where you might’ve pinned him to the floor with your body. “Let’s make sure it lasts, eh?” He extends a gloved hand toward you in an open, inviting gesture. Your eyes trail over his huge figure and land on specks of light in his eyes.
His eye black is all smudged and messy.
You have to shake off the sudden thought, observation too close and intimate for your liking, as you grab him by the forearm, trying to ignore the way your skin burns up when you feel his warmth through his gear. Ghost pulls you up to your feet, but doesn’t let go of your arm once you’re up. You don’t let go either. The silence rings in your ears. God, he’s so warm.
 “Are you like a human furnace or something?” You joke to fill the excruciating silence. Which you immediately regret. You wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see just how his face stretched the fabric of a skull mask, which you clearly heard happen by a small shuffle very close to you. Who knows, maybe he cracked a smile?
“Why? Need someone to warm you up at night?” Okay, this is terrible and stupid, and so damn corny, and why do you feel your cheeks grow hot and breath get stuck in your chest? Maybe that’s just how awful his jokes are. Ghost clears his throat and reluctantly lets go of your forearm, fingers still clinging to your sleeve as he pulls himself away too quickly for it to be something nonchalant or casual.
“So, are you answering my question, or do I have to use torture?” Fucking hell, his jokes are morbid. You almost forgot in those several hours you haven’t interacted with him. Although that would be quite hard, he leaves quite an impression, after all.
“Well, I suppose you’ve seen the…the civilians?” You can’t call them anything besides that. To call them corpses is to take away from their whole being. To call them dead would just be a lie. They were still alive in the walls of their homes, in the memories of their breathing relatives and friends, and in the pictures, their traces are everywhere. Ghost silently nods to your question, prompting you to continue. “Then here’s your reason.” You didn’t want to explain your feelings in great detail. And you didn’t feel the need to; you saw the compassion in his eyes. “Plus, the whole thing with the Los Vaqueros base.” If you saw Ghost’s face now you’d note how the expression darkened in a single moment. However, you do feel the temperature in the room fall several degrees lower, so you decide to joke again. “Pay wasn’t that good anyway, so…”
“Fair enough.” The man chuckles while rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll keep an eye on you though. Don’t think you can just waltz in here like this and be completely trusted.” Well, that’s understandable. If you were him you wouldn’t trust yourself either. Although you did hope that the mercy you’ve shown him earlier would influence his decision making. At least a little bit. “And you better toss that thing. Or else.” He points to the radio, still strapped to your tactical vest. You unclasp the device, detaching the small microphone that was holding on by a thread, and hand it to Ghost.
“You’re welcome to get rid of it for me.” And he doesn’t waste any time, dropping the radio on the ground, stomping on it so hard that the sound of it breaking echoes through the church. You assess the scraps of wires and plastic on the floor with a pitiful gaze, coming to a conclusion that you wouldn’t want to end up under Ghost’s boot. Or maybe you would, but under different circumstances. “Well, that’s…effective.”
“You good with the sniper rifle?” The man ignores your previous remark, immediately firing back with the question.  
“Decent.” You were a lot better in close quarters and preferred a more hands-on approach. But a sniper rifle wasn’t that bad. As long as he doesn’t ask you to use it without a scope.
“You’re on the lookout with me then. Don’t screw it up.”
Oh, you’re absolutely not going to.
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a/n – first of all, thank you for reading this fic, and if you enjoyed it, consider dropping me a comment, i’ll really appreciate it! SECOND OF ALL.  I’M NOT A GRAVES HATER, DON’T COME @ ME. segment with him also was written before the campaign release, so in case there are some inaccuracies with the plot/his character – let me know, so I can fix it. all of this is a huge rework of the series that I started but never posted. Originally, it was supposed to be Graves x Reader, but for multiple reasons, moral mostly, it didn’t quite sit right with me. So instead of letting 6k words first part that I’ve written and abandoned go to waste, I decided to remake it into something else here, based on the idea of @mockerycrow (ily you have such a big brain)! so yeah, that’s it for now!
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ncteez · 2 years
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Pretty Boy. (m.l)
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Mark’s favorite thing to do is sit alone at the library and enjoy the knowledge that his university offers. In contrast, your favorite thing to do is go to parties and enjoy as much chaos as possible. However, upon realizing your grades have dropped drastically due to this lifestyle, you have no choice but to approach Mark for help. 
or the one where your new favorite thing to do is seduce the most inexperienced man you’ve ever met and watch how desperate he gets for you. 
ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it. 
wordcount― 9.3k
pairing― mark lee x fem reader
content― shy and needy mark, openminded and playful reader, college au, the majority of this is smut, mark has a thing for girls who look exhausted from studying
note― just wanted…no, needed, to write mark being totally hypnotized by someone wanting him between their legs for once.This is not proofread as i’ve given up on using a beta. 
smut tags under cut:
smut tags― mark is...big. he is also a pervert and smells ur towel lmao, mentions of food and detailed popsicle eating,  reader is very vocal and talkative, slight  use of the pet name “baby” and “pretty”, a lot of cum, cream pie, unprotected sex, mention of bc pills, mark has a huge cock and he didn’t even know it, inexperienced mark, experienced reader, finger sucking, nipple sucking, grinding, oral (f receiving) , mark gets on his knees, making out, sex on a table
~
             It wasn’t shocking that you were failing but it was shocking that not a single one of your friends was failing with you. They somehow managed to keep their grades up while partying as often as possible. You don’t know how the hell they did it and you also don’t know why the hell they refuse to help you study now that they’ve seen your failure.
            Not the greatest friends, you think. They won’t help you study because they only have time to study their own classes and to continue partying without you. You knew you had to come to terms eventually that these people aren’t your friends. They’re just people to party with, people to have fun with, and apparently, people that will watch you struggle.
            It’s frustrating to walk home from classes by the run-down houses with booming music already playing. Without fail, every time, you wish you could be attending instead of studying. It’s even more annoying when you give up on your studies because you’re just not fucking getting it, and you probably would be fucking getting it if you were at a party talking to potential boyfriends or fuckbuddies. 
             Fairness in the world is so hard to grasp. Someone else always has it, but never you. The worst part about all of this is that you’re very aware of how lucky you actually are, you wasted away in college and allowed yourself to get this low simply because you were lucky enough to be well-liked. You prioritized the pointless things over the important things, and now you’re suffering for it. Complaining that you can’t attend parties, looking like a bore to your friends who pity you and are embarrassed by you for not being able to multi-task like everyone else.
            That’s right. You can’t party and study like everyone else, so maybe now it’s time to focus on the task you’d pushed aside for so long.
            Studying. 
 ~
             You don’t know Mark past the fact that he is in at least three of your classes, extremely quiet, and constantly in the library when you pass by to leave the campus. You’re a little bit ashamed to admit that the majority of people you are well-liked by are the people who are ignoring you right now. The only choice you have is to find someone that can help you catch up on all of the studies you’d blatantly abandoned. You could go through the student center and “officially” attend tutoring sessions with someone who would likely scoff at you for not getting it, or you could find someone of your own choice to help you. 
            That’s the only reason Mark comes to mind. Again, he is in three of the four of your classes. Every semester, without fail, you’ll look for your name on the dean’s list knowing that it’ll never show up, but you have seen Mark’s name on that list more times than you care to remember. 
            Mark knows of you as well. The girl who cut in front of him in the cafeteria to grab coffee with her large group of friends, making him ten minutes late to being early for his class. The girl who loudly slammed a book down in the library, the girl who came into class stumbling and giggling with one of the guys, clearly still tipsy from the night before. 
            You were everything that Mark isn’t. You were everything he avoids when accepting friends into his life, and his interest in you didn’t really go past the point of having a stubborn, pretty girl, to look at. He is a man after all. A man who is finally away from home, surrounded by hormonal women and men who can’t see past their brain fog of sexual fantasies in class. 
            Mark has those fantasies too, but it isn’t his focus. He is dead set on being a top student, one that people recognize on the academic end rather than the partying end of it all. So, here he is, sitting with his nose in a book, glasses sliding down every few minutes as he munches on a pack of crackers. He’s been here for three hours already and finds comfort in the silence of the library. It’s such a vast place with so many corners to hide in if someone were to come and disturb his peace. Today was like any other Friday, where few students choose to study and instead opt for one of the various frat parties or bar hops. 
            You wish you could be one of those people, truly, but instead, you’re making your way to the Library in search of Mark. The one student who you assume may actually take you up on the offer of study sessions. You imagine his shocked face when you sit in front of him, and you try your best not to imagine a look of disgust rather than approval. Needing Mark now, for the first time in your life, more than ever. His knowledge of the three out of four classes you have will surely work wonders on your GPA, you will probably have to admit how much you’d be relying on him to accept your offer.
      The library is so deafeningly silent when you walk in. You can’t hear even the slightest of a whisper as you walk around and peek into the many empty study rooms and cubicles. After several minutes of searching, the anxiety bubbles up inside of you. What if he decided to do something else? Of all days? The one day where he is needed to be studying? 
     Just as you turn to leave, ignoring the entire second floor of the library, you nearly walk straight into him. And by ‘nearly’ you actually walk directly into him. 
     Books clattering to the floor, Mark sighs as he looks down without making eye contact with you. It’s not the first time he’s been walked into and it probably won’t be the last. He is forever wishing that people could just watch where the fuck they’re going. 
“Hey, I’m sorry–” You go to say as you lean down to help him pick up his books, he still doesn’t look at you and you note the AirPods in his ears. 
            When he does take note of another person helping him retrieve his things, he looks up. You’re not shocked that all he does is nod at you when he takes the book from your hands and makes his way back towards his study space. 
            In an awkward way, you follow him. You feel dumb and kind of lost in this world of books and good student(s). Up the stairs, towards the floor you’d not even bothered to check, Mark unintentionally leads you to his little corner that already has papers and books laid out. 
            You swallow hard when he takes his seat and looks up to see that you had followed him. Mark is quick to swipe one of his AirPods from his ears and you can kind of tell that he instantly went from relaxed to nervous.
“Uh–” You look around, feeling awkward standing there. “I was looking for you.” 
“Me?” Mark questions with a soured look on his face. He doesn’t really do it intentionally, it’s just, like, why are you looking for him? “Why?”
“Okay, just hear me out.” You start, taking a few steps forward and inviting yourself to sit at his table. There is absolutely no arm space on this side, but that doesn’t entirely matter. You begin your pitch.
“I know it’s kind of weird, but, I’m failing.”
“That’s not weird.” Mark mocks, shaking his head and moving to put his airpod back in his ear.
“Wait! Just, please hear me out.” You ask, a little frustrated that he’s already refusing to help you.
            He looks around and then lets out a deep sigh. Rubbing his temples, he nods.
“I know we aren’t the type to like, help each other or whatever– but I’ve asked all of my friends, and they kind of blacklisted me…you were my last resort, I swear.” You say, pleading with your eyes. “Can you please just help me study for like, a day a week?”
            His body is stiff and his face is unimpressed by your pitch. 
“An hour a week?” You adjust, clapping your hands together to plead even harder. You very nearly start to grovel on the ground before him. “Mark, please. I need to get my grades up.” 
“If you had just given yourself a day a week, you wouldn’t have to be asking someone you’ve never even spoken with to help you study.” Mark comments, still mocking and appearing a bit cocky at the sudden power he’s been given. “How many classes are you failing?”
“I’m failing three classes and have a C in another…” You shamefully admit. “Just an hour a day, please.”
            Mark eyes you over, shifting a bit in his seat before letting out another sigh. 
“Finals are barely a month away.”
“I know! I’ve already got extra credit lined up so I can at least get my grades up a letter but– I,” You look down, more shamed than before.
“You don’t know how to do the extra credit.” Mark finishes for you and is, for some reason, shocked when you nod. 
            He can see the panic in your eyes, and he noticed for the past week that you’d been looking incredibly tired around campus. Not the hung-over type of tired either. He noticed you move your seat closer to the front in one of the classes and even noted that you’re actually taking notes during your time spent there. Maybe he should help you out. If not for the fact that you genuinely seem to need it, but also maybe because he’s like, incredibly aware that he is attracted to you. He always has been.
“Okay, you can come study with me whenever you want then. I usually study here because I have a roommate who isn’t the quietest person in the world–” He goes to explain. 
“I have an entire apartment to myself, you can come study at my place. Really, I’ll make food and everything.” You panic, still trying to sell the idea despite him already accepting your offer. 
            Mark is a little shocked and offended that you have your own apartment, and yet you’re failing your classes. No way in hell are you paying for that yourself. This only prompts him to want to help more. Because? An entire apartment to study in? Where a pretty girl makes his food? 
“Okay, that can work. What days and times can I be over?” Mark questions, noting the three shared classes and the one other you’ll probably need help with. He hopes he’s already taken the outlier class, otherwise he won’t be much help in that regard. 
“You can walk home with me after those classes if you want, and we can study until you’re ready to leave?” You offer. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be every day, but–”
“We can meet up after every class and decide if you want to study or not.” Mark finishes for you yet again, and you nod with a smile. 
“What’s your favorite food?” You ask, wanting to make a mental note of keeping your end of the bargain. 
            Mark thinks hard at that because being put on the spot like this makes answering any question a bit difficult. 
“Here,” You hold out your phone. “Put your number in and you can think about it. I’ll text you so you have mine.” You can’t wipe the smile off of your face, the anxiety is practically dissolving from your body at the very idea of someone being willing to help you in the comfort of your own apartment.
            He, on the other hand, is a bit more anxious now. He realizes that now, he’s going to be studying with you. A girl who had never even looked at him twice during the semesters you’ve shared classes. He’s putting his number into your phone, and you’re going to be texting him, and spending time with him instead of going to the parties that he’s never invited to. 
“I’ll see you on Monday?” You ask, sending a quick text to him so that he can save your number. He nods and looks down at his books. “Don’t forget to text me what you want to eat, okay?”
            He nods again as you stand to walk away. He watches you and notes the little bounce in your step when you round the corner. 
            Slamming his head on the desk, he, much like you, cannot stop smiling. All thoughts of studying for the remainder of the night left his head and were replaced with his new study schedule. He thinks he will try and take it easy this weekend, specifically so he is mentally prepared. He’s only talked to you for a total of fourteen minutes and he’s already lost his ability to study and think clearly. 
If he’s lucky, the two of you will pass this semester with flying colors. There’s still that tiny part of him though, that wonders if maybe you’d find interest in him, and maybe he will fail the semester with you because, honestly, you are so distracting.
 ~
             On Monday, you sat up straight in class while eyeing the back of Mark’s head most of the time, out of preparing yourself for when he makes a break for it. He hasn’t even texted you what he wanted to eat today, and part of you wonders if he went back on his promise to you. Not that it was much of a promise in the first place.
            He was a little shocked that you weren’t the first out of the room once everyone wrapped up. It was common for you to leave mid-way through class or be the first one out the door. Instead, today, you stood there awkwardly looking at him as the room continued to empty. 
            Mark nods your way as if to beckon you towards him. 
“You’re still wanting to study today?” He asks with a brow raised in surprise. All weekend he had thought about it. Thought about the possibility of it just being a joke to you, or maybe that you’d change your mind and allow yourself to flunk out like you already had been doing. His heart kind of jumped a bit noticing you looking at him. 
“Yeah? Wasn’t that the plan?” You ask, nudging him a bit once you get up beside him. “You didn’t text me what you wanted to eat so you’re just gonna have to eat whatever I have in the fridge.”
            Mark nods, opting to stay silent at this moment. He’s going home with you. He’s going to be seen on campus walking home with you. He’s not the sort to want attention, but this situation feels dangerously attractive to him. Especially when he takes note of how you’re probably going to look all. . . at home in your apartment. Like he gets to be in your space teaching you things that you should have already known. 
            It all shouldn’t be so exciting. After all, his days are filled with the typical boring sessions of reading, writing, noting, and memorizing. It is exciting for him though. Never has he studied with someone like you, or really even gotten to talk to someone that most of the men speak to, the unreachable men. You’re one of the unreachable women on campus, he thinks. The ones with standards based on fun, attractiveness, and chaos rather than charisma, personality, and knowledge. It’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing for Mark, he thinks. 
“Okay, so...” Mark drones out, avoiding eye contact with you as he packs things into his ratty backpack. “I’m not super hungry right now but–  we are going to your place right?”
            You nod with a smile, grabbing his hand as soon as he throws his backpack on. It isn’t intimate to you, but for him, it’s…something. Holding his hand is reserved for intimate relationships with family or girlfriends. He doesn’t hold hands. He’s never really gotten the chance to hold someone’s hand past his little cousin when they were crossing the street last summer. Not since high school anyway. He can’t help but buckle in on himself in a shy sort of way as you lead him from the room and out of the building. 
            You’re rambling about all of the things you need to study. All of the snacks you could offer to him. All of the hours you wish you hadn’t wasted partying, yet, all he’s thinking about is how warm your hand feels in his. You seem to be a natural at talking to people. Touching them without a single worry in the world, it’s kind of nice, he thinks. The fact that you aren’t ashamed to be seen together with him, heading towards the place you sleep. Sometimes Mark forgets that this is college. No one actually cares who is hanging out with who unless they are in the middle of a raunchy frat party, seeing their love interest getting fucked against a dirty bathroom counter. 
            He smiles to himself as he finally catches up to you and allows you to stop dragging him around. He keeps pace with you now, resting his hand as if to allow you to let go, but you don't. 
“Just around that corner-” You said glancing over at him and noting the shade of color his face has become. “You okay?” 
            Mark nods, staying quiet and trying to force himself out of his thoughts. He glances down at your hand holding his and then back up at you on instinct. 
“Oh, sorry.” You say, releasing his hand and trying hard to understand that maybe you truly are too clingy with most people in your life. You think his reaction was kind of cute though, and now you’re a little determined to help him relax those stiffened shoulders. Mark can’t be as boring as he seems, right?
 ~
 “I have peanut butter and jelly, eggs, noodles, some leftover pizza and–”
“I’m not super hungry, but I could use some water?” Mark cuts you off, slipping off his shoes in an immaculate show of how clumsy he is. You can hear the clatter of your entire coat rack falling to the floor due to his weight leaning on it through that single task. 
“I’ll get you some water…” You trail off, noting how nervous he seems. He’s panicked, frantically trying to balance your coat rack back in place as if you hadn’t walked directly into him just the Friday before. 
“Calm down, it’s just a coat rack.” You laugh, hearing him mutter a sorry as he hangs one of your empty purses back onto it. 
“Thanks.” He says, reaching out for the class of water you began to extend out to him.
            Watching his eyes go from the glass of water to your apartment, you smile at the look on his face. Such a smart boy acting so incredibly stupid the moment he’s alone in an apartment with a girl. Cute.
“We can set up here?” You ask as if you’re offering a change of subject so that he doesn’t have to think about the coat rack he had just knocked over. You point over to your dining table that’s placed perfectly in a little nook against a window and look at him as he stands in place. “We can start whenever you’re ready?”
“Can you show me to the bathroom first?” Mark blurts, hyper-aware of his awkward demeanor. He needs to calm himself down. 
            Without issue, you point to the bathroom and Mark makes his way over to it in a show of not-so-confident body language. He seemed kind of cocky on Friday, but today he seems to be like jelly. 
            You sit at the dining table without thinking much more of the man in your bathroom, instead, you pull out some textbooks and lay them out on the table. 
 ~
             Mark stares at himself in the mirror, he can practically see the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears as he comes to terms with the fact that he probably shouldn’t have agreed to come to your apartment to study. You’re attractive. That alone was a reason in his head to avoid it, but he’s here and he’s already made a fool of himself. 
            He slaps his face a bit with some cold water and tries to will himself to stop acting like such an awkward idiot. Surely you’ll pick up on his inability to talk to women if he doesn’t get it together, right? You’re going to think he’s some weirdo, a pervert maybe, before throwing him out and avoiding him forever.
            Staring harder at himself, he waits for the color to run from his face so that way he can get out there and start the study session, but then his eyes start to wander. 
           Your bathroom is immaculately clean save for some makeup stains on the counter and a few stray hairs that must have been yanked out of your head while you attempted to brush out a night of drinking. It smells fresh and your perfectly hung towels look plush. Without a thought in his head, he leans towards the towel so that he can dry his face and hands, and that’s just what he does. Except, maybe he buries his face into the towel a bit longer than he needed to, and maybe the smell of it was so astronomically sweet that he nuzzled against it even more.
            He could tell the towel had been used at least once though, solely because he could smell a scent that wasn’t the soap on the counter. Then his eyes trail over to the actual hand towel, and then they trail a bit more to see a bra hanging on a hook.
            It dawns on him again. He’s in your apartment, smelling your towels, and staring at your bra. Coming to the bathroom in an attempt to calm down has done nothing more than make things worse, and the only option he has is to stumble out of the bathroom hoping you assume he was in there doing number two rather than planting his face into a towel where you dry off your naked body. 
            Praying to himself, Mark prepares to face you. Sure, you probably see nothing out of the norm if he does well and hides the fact that he’s hyper-sensitive just for being in your space, then again, Mark has never been the best at playing pretend.
 ~
             You offer him a bright smile once he finally makes his way back into your living space and seats himself at the table. He seems to be avoiding eye contact with you, bashfully pulling his own books out of his bag with shaking fingers. 
“Are you okay? Are you sure you’re not hungry?” You look at him, head tilting down in concern. 
            Mark finally looks at you and notes how comfortable you seem while he feels like he’s internally falling apart. There shouldn’t be any fucking issue in his head when it comes to this situation, but here he is, panicking because a pretty girl is in front of him. He feels so dumb, so obvious, so embarrassed… Maybe he should eat something, at least so he can buy some time to focus on something else before he starts stuttering through your studies. At this rate, all you’re going to learn about today is how awful Mark is around women. 
“Maybe I should eat, yeah–” He says in a small voice, still staring at the books as he places them on the table.
“Come look in my kitchen, we can eat something together?” You ask, reaching toward his hand. 
            He pulls back from your touch and tries to play it off casually like he was just reaching for a pen, but you didn’t miss the fact that his hands were cold.
            Taking note, it starts to dawn on you. You’ve dealt with men like him before, and it was always an interesting situation. To check your theory, you rise from the chair and lean over the table, being sure to squish whatever cleavage you have visible to make it more visible to him. 
“Salty or sweet?” You ask, watching his eyes intently and the way they struggle to leave your breasts. Score one for you, Mark is definitely a man above all. Luckily for him, you have lots of experience in that field, while he appears to have very little in the field of women. 
“Sweet…” He drones out, pulling his eyes away from you in an attempt to hide the way his cheeks immediately flushed. 
“Great, Let’s see what I’ve got!” You laugh, propping yourself back from the table and hopping into the kitchen, checking behind you to see if he follows.
            By the time you round the corner, he isn’t short to follow you. Peeping your head around the corner, you watch as he holds his hands in front of his groin, looks down at himself, and then lets out a deep sigh. You then watch as he adjusts himself in his pants, uncomfortably hiding a semi-hard on so that he could come into the kitchen without suspicion. 
            By this point, you’ve already decided that studying will very likely not be part of today’s schedule. He wouldn’t be able to focus on a damn thing like this, right? You should help him, right?
“Took you long enough.” You joke, turning to look at Mark and intentionally trailing your eyes down his body just to see if you can see any sort of bulge. He’s safe though because he apparently must have skills in hiding his arousal during the worst times. 
            Mark, on the other hand, can already tell that your shift in mood is intensely different compared to before he went to the bathroom. Twice now you’ve been blatant towards him and it is not helping him at all right now. Is he reading it wrong because he’s very obviously horny right now? Were you really trying to dangle your breasts in front of him like that? Are you really checking him out right now? 
“Sorry, I dropped something.” He offers as an excuse as to why it took him so long to follow you, uncomfortably trying to shift from your view and avoid eye contact. 
“Sure.” You say with a roll of your eyes, knowing full well that he was hiding his cock. “ You said you wanted something sweet, right?” You change the subject, reaching out and running your fingers down his arm. 
            He swallows hard, stiffening his shoulders and nodding to you. Without hesitation, you let your fingers stay against him for a few seconds longer, keeping eye contact with him before turning and opening a cupboard. 
“Peanut butter crackers, cereal, and oatmeal.” You deadpan, slamming the cupboard and stepping to the fridge. “Pudding.” Then you open the freezer. “Popsicles, and ice cream.”
            Mark just stands there when you close the doors to the fridge and look at him in question. He could opt for the crackers but his throat is already dry. Cereal could work but that would be embarrassing, for some reason. Oatmeal is an option, solely for how disgusting it looks, surely it would tame his boner. But, popsicles. No.
“Grab whatever you want, I'm eating a popsicle.” You say, raising a brow and throwing open the freezer door again to take your pick.
            Of course, it was intentional. It’s fun to see his eyes light up at the very idea of seeing you eat a popsicle, and even more fun to imagine how flustered he’s going to be in mere minutes.
            Mark looks to the floor and heads towards your fridge, also opting for a popsicle, probably so you didn’t think he was such a pervert, but more so because if you truly are trying to come onto him right now, at least his lips will taste sweet.
 ~
             You had expected Mark to get flustered, and boy did he. What you didn’t expect though, was to become flustered yourself by the image of Mark’s tongue darting over sweet ice, and then over his own lips to suck up the melted and sticky juice. The only image in your head right now is the idea of if he would lick his lips like that if you were to spread your legs for him. Would he lick up your mess on his face, chasing the flavor the same way he’s doing right now?
            A dull ache begins to spread throughout your body as you watch him. His eyes still avoid you but you still manage to catch him a few times. Each time he makes eye contact with you, your gaze shoots to his lap just to see if he’s gotten hard enough for his cock to leave its tucked position into his waistband. 
            Mark is hyper-aware now, with the way you’re staring and almost leaving your popsicle unattended as he eats his own. He feels confused, but over the moon nonetheless. 
            By the time the popsicles are finished, your fingers are sticky from allowing it to drip down the stick. You make a point to suck each of your fingers innocently, looking under your lashes at him for split seconds as you begin to shuffle through the papers on the table. 
“So,” You say, popping one finger out of your mouth and inserting another. “Can we start here? I need to have a paper written on at least one topic on this list and have no idea how to find a good source to read from.”
            Mark hears and sees you in tunnel vision right now, but he manages to catch the ass end of your sentence and begins to try and focus on the studies at hand. Still watching you suck your fingers into your mouth, he clears his throat and places his own popsicle stick onto the table. “I wrote mine based on this topic, and I found a lot of good sources for it. I don’t think our professor would think too hard about us choosing the same subject–” 
“Yeah, especially because it’s me. They’d never guess you’re in my apartment right now.” You laugh, smirking over at him. 
“I would’ve never guessed either–” Mark says without thinking, barely processing how embarrassing he is before you squint at him with a wider smile. 
“Oh yeah?” You ask, raising a brow and leaning forward. “Why’s that?” 
            Mark tries to look around but now can’t seem to force his eyes away from you. A much different circumstance compared to before when he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. There’s a connection here, he can feel it. You’re definitely coming onto him and you have been for the past however long he’s been here.
“You’re kind of out of my league, y’know?” He laughs more at himself than he does the situation, and to you, he honestly looks pitiful after saying that. It’s incredibly attractive to you in the way he seems to praise you for being a failure simply because he’s attracted to you. At least, that’s the case if you’re reading him right.
“Who said someone like you couldn’t teach me a thing or two?” You have a smile in your voice, and it comforts him, but that comfort is shot down when you stand to your feet and walk over to him. “Who says I’m out of your league?” You ask again, watching him scoot back with his chair as you come closer.
            You prop yourself against the table, essentially blocking him from his books and papers. You look down at him now, dipping your head in a playful way. “I don’t think I’m out of your league.” 
            Mark notes how you’re between him and the table now. You look comfortable leaning in front of him like this, and when his eyes trail up to your face all his body can do is give in. He looks at you through large eyes, the overhead light is sparkling through them at you. 
            In that instant, you can see his embarrassment fill his body because he’s no longer resisting the urge to be himself. He’s staring at you as if you could be a god and saying nothing in response to your words. 
“If anything, Mark–” You soothe him, grabbing one of his hands and smiling at the way his pen immediately falls out of his grip. “You’re out of my league.” 
            He blinks up at you, soaking in the words and not yet understanding in full what you’re doing until he feels warmth envelope the entirety of his hand and wrist. 
“Do you know how lucky I am that you’re here right now?” You ask him, basking in the way you can see his breath get caught in his throat. “How lucky I am that you’re not only smart but, hot too?”
            He dips his head at this, a bashful show of your words having an impact on him. He hides his face briefly against his arm and then he realizes–
“Is this okay?” You ask, holding his hand in place as you begin to move your hips against his palm.
            Mark watches the way you’ve managed to pull his hand out and plant it between your legs, all so you could grind against it without so much as a warning. He’s not against it though, if anything, his head is shot back to reality and he’s immediately back to glancing around the room and avoiding the scene in front of him.
            His palm is against your dampening panties and all he can think to say right now is, “You could write your thesis on human connection and its effects on the brain.” 
            You smile at his attempt of continuing to study through this moment.
“I could,” You say with a hoarser voice than before, feeling the way his hand stays relaxed in your grasp as you grind against it. “Or we could think about how your brain is being affected right now?”
            Mark groans, feeling the warmth of your wet beginning to seep through the fabric, and honestly, it is happening so fast that he’s sure it would be more embarrassing if he walked out now. 
“How are you feeling?” You reword your question towards him, intentionally swiveling your hips so that you can position his fingers into your underwear. 
“You’re warm.” Mark chokes out, eyes now zoning in on your core in front of him as he sits. 
            You let out a small laugh at this, pulling a bit on his arm to pull him closer, but he doesn’t compute it at all. 
“Do you like it?” You ask again, this time slipping his fingers into you. You let out a deep sigh and let your eyes roll back, fucking yourself gently against his fingers before you open your eyes again to look at him. 
            He’s nodding, probably more thankful now that you’d worn a skirt today rather than pants. He didn’t allow himself to take note of your attire, because if he did, he would have made even more of a fool of himself. But he’s nodding now, watching the way you hold his arm in place and slide his fingers in and out of you. 
            His silence is louder than his words could be right now, you think. You can feel him straighten his fingers inside of you, you can practically see him salivate at the very idea of how you’re using him right now. You’re not done though, no no. He’s far too cute like this, but you want to hear words.
            Gently, you pull your hips back effectively slipping his fingers out of you. There, you lift his arm and examine your wetness against his fingers. You smile again, eyes now adjusting to his face rather than his wet fingers in front of him. 
            Mark watches as you guide his fingers to his lip, and without a second thought, he opens his mouth to taste you against them. He licks circles around each of the two fingers, closing his eyes almost instantly so that he could relish the experience.
“Do you like the taste too?” You ask, releasing his hand and watching how he continues to suck his fingers. 
“Yeah–” Mark groans with his closed mouth around the digits, making damn sure to suck every bit off of him. 
“You’re pretty, you know that?” You compliment him this time, tearing your eyes from him and slipping your panties down your legs. You turn yourself over so that you’re now bent over the table and you ignore the corner of one of the textbooks poking against your ribs, all in favor of what sound Mark will make when he opens his eyes. 
“You can lick it for real then.” You comment, lifting to look behind you at the way his fingers drop from his mouth and his eyes immediately zone in on your bare pussy displayed for him under your hiked-up skirt. 
            He does let out a whimper, one that seemed entirely desperate to do just that for you but he doesn’t move. He just stares, soaking in the words you’re saying, memorizing each fold and dip in your pussy–
            You don’t intend to wait though. Reaching behind you, you grab the back of his head by his hair and guide his face to you. The way you can hear his chair tip over as he falls to his knees makes you quiver a bit before him, and you’re almost surprised to not just feel a face against you. It appears that Mark instantly jumped into action when your fingers laced into his locks. 
           You can feel his tongue exploring and his other hand reaching to lift your skirt entirely over your ass. His tongue is soft, warm, wet, and so entirely eager to lick and suck every inch of your core. It’s not until he starts allowing his moans to vibrate into your flesh that you hike one of your legs up and open your pussy against his working tongue for easy access.
            Guiding him by his hair, you press his face harshly into your pussy with little to no fight for air from him, and you’re loving it. Loving the way he whines for more when his tongue reaches the furthest limit of your folds, loving even more when he finally reaches his hands up to your pussy and spreads it out more for himself. 
            He isn’t even thinking at this moment, just tasting and feeling you guide his tongue as if this is what you wanted all along. The thought alone of someone like you wanting to fuck his tongue like this sets his cock on fire in so many ways. He’s so hard right now that it hurts to think about it at all. Mark doesn’t give a single fuck about how pathetic he must sound to you right now, whimpering and panting against you as if this was the only sweet thing in your apartment he wanted to eat anyway. 
            You hear a clatter to the floor, knowing for a fact that he’s knocked his glasses off of his face from the angle in which he skewed his neck in order to fuck his tongue into you now. You wonder what’s going through his mind, because god damn he’s eating you out like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. He’s impressively messy and loud with it too, making you feel as if you must taste like the sweetest thing on earth to him. 
            For some reason, thinking back to all of the non-sexual situations you’d passively seen Mark in turns you on even more. The big-brained student who is constantly making straight As and never going out to parties eats pussy like this? Eats your pussy like this? Better than half of the men you’d already been with? Mark doesn’t miss a single centimeter of it, and you can tell he’s focusing on you more than he has ever focused on his homework or studies before. 
            You feel so incredibly wanted in this moment by Mark that all you can do is let out a desperate moan for him. One so that he knows he’s not the only one utterly stunned by the turn of events, but also because you’re fucking loving what he’s doing to you.
            With each moan, Mark picks up his pace, gripping your folds and spreading them out impossibly wide just so he can bury himself in the slippery wet heat. He’s spreading you apart so well that it almost pains you to move without the fear of being torn open by his tongue alone. Your clit has barely even been reached but he still managed to make you feel sensitive to the point of wanting to beat your fists on the table out of sheer frustration for not approaching him sooner. 
            Not only can he help you pass your classes, but he surely could make you feel like a fucking queen on top of it all, licking you up and down as if he were born and trained for you and you alone.
“You’re so–” You groan out, releasing his hair from your grip but pressing your ass out more so that you can feel him slip his tongue back to your clit with impossible reach. He continues that, sliding his tongue from your clit to your entrance, dipping in and swirling the muscle before going back to your clit. All while he’s moaning, groaning, and panting against you. 
            It’s too much, he’s so incredibly eager that you’re honestly too sensitive to let him keep going, so you pull your hips forward and lift from the table. Your legs are shaking when you do this, and shaking even more when you turn to face him and lean against the table again. 
“How–” You look down at him in surprise, watching him lick his lips much like you hoped he would. “How are you so good at this?” 
            Mark is stunned by your question because in all fairness, he’s never gotten to eat a girl out before. He wasn’t really thinking about what to do, or how to do it, he was just obsessed with the taste and smell of you to the point of going absolutely fucking feral at the mere chance. 
“I’ve–never done it before.” He shamefully admits, nonchalantly moving his hands to his pants and unbuttoning them. Not to fuck you or anything, mostly just to release his cock from the chokehold of the denim rubbing against him. 
“You’re lying.” You deadpan, running your hand between your legs and quivering the moment your fingers run over your swollen clit. “There’s no way you haven’t done that before.” You gasp, looking at him as if no other man existed. 
            He shakes his head, looking up at you from the floor with innocent eyes. His lips are wet, his eyes are hooded, his hair sticking up from your fingers guiding him– it’s a lot to see him like this when you’ve only ever seen him as that goody-two-shoes student who doesn’t know how to have fun. Clearly, Mark knows how to have fun.
            Your gaze on him makes him bashful as he looks down to the floor, feeling embarrassed that you’re praising a complete amateur at this. 
            Using your leg, you nudge him, and you spread your legs. “You did all of that and didn’t even touch yourself?” You ask in curiosity, noting how he had only just now undone his pants to relieve pressure. “Let me see it.” You say again, almost demanding as you hop up on the table and spread your legs even more.
            Frantic at your tone of voice, Mark stumbles to his feet and pushes his pants down to his thighs. His cock springs out and stands erect in front of you. You could stare all day, honestly. Mark, of all people? He’s the one with a cock this big? He’s the one with a cock that could make you feel as if you’re being split in half. Fuck.
“God.” You comment, mouth falling open at the way it twitches in mid-air. “All of the girls would be fucking swooning, Mark.” You get a bit flustered yourself now because only now do you understand who you just seduced and what he’s got to offer outside of brains. 
            In all of his shyness, Mark hides his face from you again despite his cock out in all of its glory. Your mouth could honestly start watering if he hadn’t just eaten you out to the point of needing him to stop. 
            Without another thought, you pull your shirt and bra off all in one go. No way in hell is he leaving without fucking you stupid with a cock like that. Absolutely no fucking way would you let this go to waste.
“When’s the last time you’ve done anything with a girl?” You ask, reaching for his arm and pulling his gaze back towards you, now almost completely naked save for your skirt hiked up to your waist. 
            Mark stares at you again, much like he did when you spread your legs in front of him for the first time, this time zoning in on the way your nipples are erect and begging for his mouth to be put to use again. He nearly forgets that you’re talking to him because of the way you’ve presented yourself. The reality is right in front of his face, but he still wonders if this must be a dream.
“I– right out of high school before she broke up with me,” He says in a lazy voice, slightly raspy. It sounds as if it doesn’t even matter to him because he is so focused on you in front of him. “I’ve only had sex one time.”
“Aw,” You pitifully look at him. “What a waste, you’re such a pretty boy.” You coo, wiggling your hips as if to entice his cock to make its way towards you. “You’ve got the brains and the cock for it. You must feel so neglected.”
            All he does is nod, because yes. He does feel fucking neglected, partly because he let it happen and mostly because he knows he doesn’t know how to talk to girls. Right now, Mark could genuinely start crying if you keep talking to him like this. He can’t tell if you’re mocking him or being genuine, but the only thing he wants to do right now is bury his cock so deeply inside of you that all you can do is moan out mantras of how pretty he is, how much time has been wasted without his cock inside of you, how badly you’d want him again and again after this. 
            You can see his facial expressions change every few seconds and your body is yearning to be filled. With the way he is looking at you, there’s no way he doesn’t want to.
“Do you want to fuck me, Baby?” You ask, realizing that you much prefer calling him intimate names rather than his own because he seems to lean directly into it. 
“Yeah,” He sighs out, hanging his head to look at the way his cock still stands painfully erect throughout the conversation. “Can I?” He asks now, making pleading eye contact with you.
            You reach out for him, grabbing his waist and pressing his cock directly against your core. You lean your head back a bit to look at him and the way his eyes sear straight through your own. His pupils are darkened, his cheeks are red, and his lips are glistening– You lick against his lips, and the way he immediately starts to kiss you makes you think he’s a liar. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his mouth regardless of where it is. His tongue presses into your mouth so beautifully that you genuinely could argue that this man has only ever had sex one time. Maybe he’s a natural? 
            Mark knows exactly when to grind his cock between your folds, knows exactly when to pull back to kiss your neck, and knows exactly how to lean you back with his hand protecting the back of your head so that it doesn’t slam against the table. 
            He slips his cock between your folds so beautifully as he trails his kisses to your breasts, suckling gently against one of your nipples before he nearly can’t stand it anymore. 
           With ease, Mark grabs his cock and presses it directly into you. He isn’t slow or gentle with it. You can feel how eager he is when the moment the head of his cock enters you, he’s slamming in just to feel the way your pussy grips around him to adjust.
            He’s lost himself in the moment, and you’re loving it. Loving the way his tongue picks up against your nipples, and the way there is no rhythm or rhyme to his thrusts. His size alone is enough for you, and you can admit to loving every single push and pull his body is offering.
            The room is silent save for his whimpers, your gasps, and the wet sound of skin slapping against skin. You’re quick to wrap a leg around his waist so that when he presses in again, you can force him to stay in place so that he can genuinely feel what it’s like to have a pussy clenching around a cock so big.
“Can you feel it?” You groan out, feeling his teeth pinch against your nipple and sending a sharp pain down your body. 
            He nods frantically, pulling your nipple with his lips as he does it. You can tell he’s drooling, wetting your chest in such an embarrassing way, but he’s so–Mark. He’s Mark. This is Mark.
            You watch his face and the way he winces with each pulse of your pussy quivering around the sheer size of him, and you coo out at him when his cock twitches in response. 
“I can’t believe this is only your second time, Pretty Boy.” You sing out. “You’re so good, so-”
“I can’t–” Mark whimpers out, beginning to move his hips again, this time at a quicker pace. His mouth falls open against your breast and his hands shoot to your waist as he pulls himself up and opens his eyes. He watches the way your wet coats his cock as he slides in and out of you, fingers pressing so hard into your hips that you feel he could be bruising you. 
            You’re so in awe of him losing complete control that you want nothing more than to cum with him inside of you. You quickly reach your hand down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive spot almost to the point that you could start crying out at how painful it truly is at this moment. You’ve never been this sensitive for a man, and yet, you’re coming undone beneath him and nearly losing as much control as he has. 
           A mess of moans and groans are filling the room as Mark chases his high, and you are at the point that you want to say the nicest and dirtiest things to him out of sheer arousal. So you do, you talk, and you talk. Whispers of “Can’t believe you fuck this good”, turn to screams of, “Baby, right there, just like that.”    
         It wasn’t until you moaned out, “Make a mess for me, cum with me.” 
Mark’s hips stuttered and his eyes closed tightly in a frustrated groan. “Stop–” He grunts, hips pressing into you impossibly hard. To the point that you scooted up on the table. “Stop, I’m-” He groans again, attempting to pull out so that he could release against your pulsing and empty pussy, but you don’t let him.
            Your legs hold him in place as you release your clit and pull yourself up on your arms just to grab against his neck and pull him down with you against the table. 
“Make a mess of me.” You say in a half moan, holding his face so that he can’t look away from you.
            You watch the way his pupils dilate, you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you, and then his eyes roll back. 
            Mark’s eyebrows fall much like his mouth does when he comes inside of you. His hips are frantic but his face looks calm, and not a single sound releases from his lips. You’re very quick to begin rubbing your clit again, and the pressure of his abdomen pressing against your hand as you do it sends you over the edge, effectively allowing your orgasm to hit you harder than a fucking freight train. 
            You grab onto him harshly, without a thought in your head besides kissing him. He kisses you back, realizing that despite having sex before, this may be the first time he’s ever made a girl cum. It’s certainly the first time he’s ever felt his cock being tugged by the walls of a pussy as it works itself through an orgasm.
            He can’t stop coming, lasting entirely far too long and far past sensitivity. Mark opens his eyes to look at you when you’re coming around him, all while he’s coming inside of you. Your voice is beautifully raspy, and the way you hold onto him makes him feel like you should never let go. 
            Upon his ears popping and feeling the mess between the two of you, Mark pulls back and notes that the hem of his shirt is absolutely fucking soaked. In an attempt to take a small step back in order to remove himself from you, he nearly trips over his pants that had fallen to his ankles.
“Oh.” You laugh, wincing as you feel his cock leave you empty. “Probably should have undressed you.”
            Mark steps out of his pants and just kind of stands there awkwardly, watching the cum spill from you. Then panic spreads across his face. 
“Um,” He croaks out, voice cracking almost immediately. “I- I didn’t pull out…”
“I didn’t want you to.” You soothe him, noting how he’s right back to his awkward and shy persona the moment he’s finished fucking you. “I’m on birth control.” You confirm for him, just to see the relief replace that panic.
 ~
 “So…” You comment, looking down at the wrinkled papers in front of you. “You really expect me to try and write at least 1200 words tonight?” 
            Mark tilts his head at you, sitting with a blanket covering his entire body as his clothes go through the cycles of a wash. “If we hadn’t gotten off track, you could already be almost done with it.” 
“God, you are such a fucking bore.” You laugh, shivering at the cold air hitting your bare skin. “I’m literally naked and you’re not even making a move.” 
“Finish your paper and we can talk about that.” He shoots back, not afraid to sound the slightest bit cocky at this moment. 
            In his defense, it does work. Promising you any amount of him after what happened was enough to force your focus on your school work. Just because he did it once doesn’t mean he will always want to fuck stupid girls. If anything, Mark deserves someone who respects his work ethic and need to help others right? The huge cock is just a bonus when you think about it.
            You know it’s going to be a hell of a month after tonight, but for the most part, you think that studying with Mark may have been your best college decision to date. You can learn a lot from him, and apparently... he can learn from you too. You just hope he doesn’t run off and use that knowledge on other girls once he realizes he’s definitely got the ability to break hearts. 
~
6K notes · View notes
danaewrites · 3 months
Text
you with the dark curls (you with the watercolor eyes)
part ii: i wanna hear you speak to me
james potter x reader // read it on AO3
word count: 3.6k
summary: “Falling in love with your best friend was never a good idea, but you’d managed to do the idiot thing anyway, carrying a torch for a boy who would never look past Lily’s emerald eyes to see the watercolor ones that had always been by his side.”
tags: best friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, based on the song "dear arkansas daughter" by lady lamb, fem!reader
author's notes: new year, new chapter! i started writing this one back in SEPTEMBER and finally had enough time away from the terrors of calculus homework to finish it. thanks for reading my story so far and i hope you enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent chapter, because i had way too much fun writing it!! i promise that the angst in this chapter *will* be resolved, but it was too deliciously tempting to resist sprinkling a wee bit of hurt/comfort and dramatics in there as well. sorry not sorry!
read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii (coming soon!)
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“I’ve got no bloody clue how Dumbledore can be so energetic all the time,” you groaned, head in your hands as you peeked out at the headmaster’s more-than-slightly manic grin from your seat at the Gryffindor breakfast table. You were far too sleep-deprived to process his latest choice of garish attire: a bright chartreuse robe covered in plaid polka dots, topped off with what appeared to be rhinestones and tinsel attached to his beard.
Perhaps if Kettleburn hadn’t assigned you three feet of parchment on the seventeen glorious properties of dragon dung yesterday and expected it done by this afternoon, you might have appreciated the headmaster’s creative fashion choices– oh, who were you kidding. There really was no understanding that wizard, even properly rested. James and Peter had made a bet during fifth year on how long it’d take Dumbledore to crack under a constant deluge of pranks in his office, but they’d quickly realized that the man was too far gone to do anything but take inspiration for school events– an idea that was quite frankly, comically frightening, and the sort of thing you weren’t keen on pondering on a normal Tuesday morning.
Sirius wrinkled his nose sympathetically and slid the pile of raspberry jam tarts closer to you. “Late night in the library again?”
You nodded sheepishly, gratefully taking a pastry from the pile. “I honestly don’t know why Pince allows me to stay past curfew. Marauder’s luck, I guess?” Your attention was diverted by the sound of hoots and flapping wings as the morning owl brigade arrived, apparently choosing a kamikaze dive-bomb approach to deliver this morning’s newspapers. Ah, the joys of living at the world’s most advanced magical school.
Sirius, ever the epitome of grace, slipped under the table as a rogue owl zipped past, popping himself back up just enough to throw you finger guns. “Exactly right, doll, exactly right,” he grinned. “Trust me, Marauder’s luck gets you everywhere. And I mean everywhere,” he winked, sending you a lecherous smirk.
“Ew, Sirius, I don’t even want to know,” you sniffed. “I’ve learned my lesson after the mental trauma your tales of Dorcas’ birthday adventures inflicted upon my psyche. Please, spare me the details.”
“What? All I meant was Slughorn’s Christmas Party, of course!” He batted his eyelashes angelically, still partially covered by the tablecloth.
Your mouth gaped open in shock. “Last year’s Christmas party? Sirius Orion Black, I refuse to hear another word! What on earth would your ancestors think, with you bragging about such exploits-”
He leaned over, eyes wide with laughter. “No, I meant the one Slughorn is throwing on the 21st, it’s exclusively for us lucky seventh years this time. Although, you bring up some very fond memories… okay, okay, I’ll stop, don’t kick me–”
“What are we kicking Sirius for?” James slid onto the bench across from you, eyeing a groveling Sirius with interest. Peter joined him, but wisely chose to stay away from the ruckus, piling his plate high with the bacon the owls had spared. Remus was noticeably absent, spending the morning resting in the infirmary after a rough night of shifting– which you assumed was much more peaceful than the current chaos at the Gryffindor breakfast table.
“Oh! Good morning, Jamie,” you beamed up at him, passing him the plate of desserts you’d been protecting from Sirius’ nefarious advances. “Morning, dove,” he greeted you, and then paused. “Ha, get it? Morning dove?” He puffed up his chest smugly and nudged Sirius with his elbow in a futile effort to make him laugh. You huffed fondly at his antics. Boys.
Sirius rolled his eyes and took advantage of your momentary distraction, retreating back onto his seat to nurse his wounds– to your ever-growing delight (and Sirius’ woe), you had recently discovered that the Hogwarts girls’ uniform shoes were quite sharp. “At this point we should call you Lames. ‘Cause your puns are lame,” he muttered.
You shooed him away with a brush of your hand, remembering what Sirius had mentioned earlier. “According to Sirius, Slughorn’s hosting a Christmas Party again this year. Let’s pray it won’t be like the last one.” You muttered. James and Peter both looked vaguely ill at the prospect, shuddering in unison. “My tie will never look the same again,” Peter griped, but suddenly sat up straight in his seat. “Hey, wait, we’re finally old enough to bring dates to this one! Without sneaking them in, I mean.” 
Sirius snickered and lightly punched his shoulder. “Why, Petey, got some lucky girl in mind?” Peter reddened and glanced over at the Hufflepuff table, where a certain freckled blonde was chatting with her friends– a move that didn’t go unnoticed by James, who gave a delighted wolf-whistle. “You got a thing for Lucy Abbott, huh? Might want to make a move before Smith does,” he grinned, gesturing to the tall brunette boy who’d just arrived and sharing a knowing smirk with you. You giggled at Peter’s increasingly pouty expression; he’d figure out sooner or later that Smith was definitely not interested in Abbott– or witches in general– but it was entertaining to see him out of his comfort zone. Peter had always been the quietest of your little group, and you privately thought that a bit of momentary romantic angst might spur him to be more assertive. An ironic opinion, considering how your own love life revolved around the fact that your best friend had feelings for someone else… and you couldn’t do anything about it except mope.
Peter scowled. “Easy for you to say, Prongs, you’ve finally got precious Lily-flower wrapped around your finger. I bet you’ve already asked her!”
There it was: another reminder that James wasn’t yours, and never would be. You watched as the Gryffindor boys good-naturedly jostled his shoulder and tousled his curls. James grinned sheepishly, shrugging off their teasing. “Not yet,” he admitted, glancing hopefully at the end of the table, where Lily was chatting with her friends. 
Peter rolled his eyes. “Aw, come on, we all know she’ll say yes this year.” Sirius winced, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. Peter glanced at Sirius, drawn by the movement. “What’ve you got to worry about? Half the population would kill Dumbledore to get one dance with you. The only person who’s got to worry about a date is me– well, and maybe Y/n, I guess.” His face suddenly turned contemplative, looking you up and down. “Are you going with someone?” 
Sirius’ grimace became doubly pronounced at Peter’s tactlessness, and you felt your face heating up. Peter had a way of accidentally hitting on the issues others tried to hide. It wasn’t his fault he’d never heard about your trips to Hogsmeade with a paramour– in fact, none of the boys had. Because there hadn’t been any. You’d spent your entire time at Hogwarts pining after James, and as a result had missed the romantic milestones your classmates had already blissfully bragged about. 
Peter looked at you expectantly, waiting for a response, and you opened your mouth to confess your lack of experience when you spotted a familiar redhead walking gracefully towards your side of the table– to James, you realized with a start. Something within you ignited as you watched her glow with confidence, carefree and lovely as ever. Lily would never pine after someone uselessly; she knew she could get anyone she wanted with the right amount of banter and flirty gestures. You... Well, you weren’t there quite yet, but maybe it was time to take inspiration from the Muggle saying and ‘fake it til you make it’. And before you could think about what you were about to do, you turned to Peter and smiled coyly. “I might.”
James’ and Sirius’ heads snapped up immediately from their perusal of the breakfast lineup as they let out an identical murmur of surprise. “What?” James furrowed his brow, looking you up and down– seemingly trying to discern whether you had taken a holiday from your senses, most likely via Bludger-induced concussion at the last Quidditch match. Sirius merely raised a questioning eyebrow at you. You groaned internally, knowing that you’d have to explain yourself later… although, if your half-baked idea worked, you’d be spending a lot more time with him anyway. For now, you beamed innocently at both of them and took a sip of your pumpkin juice. Apparently, the Sorting Hat had placed you in Gryffindor for a reason- you were either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish to commit to this plan, but with Evans quickly approaching, you saw no other choice.
Peter looked momentarily shocked, then glumly began to assemble an egg and bacon sandwich seasoned with the occasional mutterance of “unfair” and “perpetually single, my arse”.
James’ eyes were still trained on you. “Who is it?” he asked, searching your face again as if he was looking for some indication that you were joking. You shrugged, trying to look casual. “I guess you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?”
“Dove-” he began, but Lily finally reached his seat and placed one stupidly perfect hand on his shoulder, diverting his attention momentarily. “Sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but Professor McGonagall asked me to bring you to her office for Quidditch scheduling.” James blinked, glancing up at her and then at the rest of the table. He stood up and focused on you again, expression clouded. “I’ll see you in Potions, yeah?”
Sirius stood up quickly, ushering him out of his seat with a speed you’d only seen him use to gulp down cheap Firewhiskey. He gave you a significant look. “Actually, Y/n and I were just about to take a walk, isn’t that right? So we'll both see you in Potions, what a sublime coincidence, now don’t be late for your meeting–” he chattered on as he shoved James toward the doors of the Great Hall, the latter eyeing him suspiciously but moving nonetheless. Sirius turned to you and pointed to the courtyard entryway. “You. Me. Talk, as in right now.”
Once you were sure that you’d made it out of earshot of Peter and the rest of the Gryffindor table, you wheeled around to face him. “Okay. First of all… I didn’t plan that.” Sirius raised an eyebrow again. “Second of all, I need a favour,” you pleaded, staring up at him with the most adorable doe eyes you could physically summon. They were usually most effective on James, for some reason, but you were sure that Sirius wasn’t immune to your manipulation either. He groaned, resting his face in his hands. “How do you even have a date? Last time I checked, also known as yesterday, you were still head over heels for Prongsie, doll. So do I need to check you for Amortentia or somethi–” He peered out from between his fingers with annoyed realization. “You don’t have a date, do you.” 
You blinked innocently up at him. He let out a long-suffering sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “This is what you need the favour for? You want me to go with you to Slughorn’s party so you can pretend in front of the rest of Hogwarts that you’re not madly in love with Jamie?” 
You grinned confidently up at him and slung an arm around his shoulders. “Aw, Siri, you know me so well. It’s almost as if you were maaaade to be my date for the party...” You fluttered your eyelashes up at him one more time for good measure, trying to hide a smirk. “Alright, alright, stop with the Bambi act, I’ll take you.” He scowled good-naturedly. “You know, this is going to ruin my dating pool for the next month.” 
You scoffed. “As if! If anything, you’ll just have more people fawning over you– temptation of the forbidden apple and all, you know.” 
Sirius brightened up considerably at this revelation. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the beginning, doll! I vote that we match in purple velvet, it does wonders for my complexion–”
You gave a very unladylike snort at the thought of you and Sirius swanning into the party in some sort of horrendous plum-coloured disco getup, and shooed him away towards the Potions classroom. That was an eyesore to imagine sometime when you weren’t about to get a headache from the dim dungeon lighting.
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Slughorn greeted you and Sirius by directing you to the front of the classroom with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Oho, a pair of latecomers, I see!” He winked at you and Sirius in exaggerated motion. You winced as Snape jeered and nudged Malfoy, who was busy enjoying Flint’s crude gestures at you. Ugh, Slytherin boys. The worst of the lot. Their snickers were quickly stopped by James chucking a handful of powdered wormwood at their heads when Slughorn turned away, making Malfoy’s prized hair appear covered in soot. You shot him a grateful smile. 
“Since you two missed my initial remarks, let’s see if you can make it up by identifying today’s potion, hmm?” Slughorn gestured dramatically to a shimmering green brew in a cauldron next to his desk, cherry-coloured smoke curling off of the top invitingly. 
Sirius shot you a panicked look, clearly not expecting to be put in the academic spotlight, but you shook your head and stepped closer. You smelled something rich and incense-like, which meant that Bumburrel leaves were a key ingredient. And combined with the way the smoke was drifting lazily around your wrists, curling higher and higher… “Brew of Mandelian, sir. Used for sharpened acuity under times of pressure.”
Slughorn gave a delighted chuckle and clapped his hands. “Well then! Ten points to Gryffindor for paying attention in lectures!” He dismissed you and Sirius with a wave, moving on to explain the finer points of ingredient preparation to a very bemused George Goyle as you slipped into your usual seat beside James.
You worked in quiet harmony for a moment, methodically slicing and crushing the slippery beetles needed to give the brew its signature green colour while James handed you the insects. He broke the silence after six beetles (not that you had been counting or anything) with an awkward, “So… you have a, erm, date?”
You huffed, motioning for him to hand you the foul-smelling Moorish tubers next. “Honestly, James, is it that surprising?” He scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “Well, I– yeah, I guess.” he trailed off, seeing your expression. 
“The tubers, Jamie, thank you. I mean, you looked at me like I was a ghost back in the Great Hall!” You were decidedly not making eye contact with him, trying your best to focus on the slimy plants in front of you and not the fact that your best friend-slash-unrequited crush doubted your romantic potential. What a way to be humbled– and while covered in tuber juice, no less!
He huffed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “Come on, Y/n, it’s not like that. What did Sirius want to talk about in the Great Hall, anyway? You two looked… chummy.” 
You glared down at the copper slicing board. “Well, it’s none of your business how chummy we are, is it? I don’t interrogate you every time you converse with Peter. In fact, it’s rather expected that Sirius and I speak to one another on occasion, considering the amount of time we all spend together thanks to you.”
You moved to grab another tuber from the jar, but James reached out and grabbed your hand, forcing you to look at him. His hazel eyes were alight with frustration, a look you knew by heart thanks to the hours you’d spent tutoring him in History of Magic after he napped his way through the entire first semester. “Are you serious? You’re actually going with someone?”
“Please, Jamie, do enlighten me on whyever you think I couldn’t possibly get a date with my numerous and diverse charms,” you sniffed, hoping to Merlin that he would just leave the entire subject alone. 
“No, it’s–” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “The other boys, they don’t know how– you’re so, I mean, just look at you!” he exclaimed, gesturing at you. He stopped, frowning to himself, looking more confused than before. He glanced over at Lily, expression becoming even more muddled, brow furrowed and hard to read to anyone but you. 
Your mouth parted in shock, and to your dismay you felt tears bubbling up again. You blinked fiercely, refusing to let him see you cry. James thought the issue was… your looks? You suddenly wanted to crawl under Slughorn’s desk and never come out again, except perhaps to find a shovel to dig your grave with. This was far, far worse than watching him transfigure chocolates for Lily every Valentine’s Day. Now you knew for a fact he didn’t find you attractive– thought other boys didn’t either, even! And the way he’d clearly mentally compared you to Lily after what he’d admitted… well. There was no recovering from that. Teenage boys could be dense, but Merlin, how you had wanted him to at least let you down gently. 
You wished you’d never opened your mouth to lie about having a stupid date in the first place, but you forced yourself to laugh and mutter something trite about how that could all be fixed with a couple glamour charms anyway so it really wasn’t an issue for the party, thank you very much. He looked even more confused, opening his mouth to respond, but Snape chose that moment to interrupt.
“Hey, Potter!” James turned to scowl at the greasy Slytherin as you thanked your lucky stars for Snape’s interruption (a rather disturbing thought– potentially a harbinger of an imminent apocalypse. You’d never thanked Snape before in your life and hoped to never do it again). “Here’s payback for earlier,” he smirked, checking that Slughorn had dozed off and the other students weren’t paying attention before whipping a mottled yellow bottle at James.
James’ carefully honed Quidditch reflexes kicked in and he quickly dodged the object, but as the vial soared up, up, past your carefully diced tubers, over James’ messy notes, it hit your arms and shattered. You flinched in pain, crying out as the glass shards embedded themselves in your arm and the congealing, repulsive liquid dripped down your hands and onto your thighs. James lunged towards you, but it was too late– the potion had already seeped into your skin, causing an awful sparking sensation. 
You gasped, grabbing onto the desk as the feeling bubbled upwards. “Jamie, I don’t– I don’t feel–” you stuttered, suddenly lightheaded, and you heard someone gasp as you began to taste something metallic. You absently touched your nose. Why was it so cold and wet? You had been so careful not to touch your face around those horrid tubers and oh, oh Merlin and Morgana what was that pain in your hands and legs, please no make it go away someone help me help me HELP
You vaguely registered someone whimpering in the background. It might have been you, but you weren’t entirely sure what was happening outside of the electric symphony of agony crescending in your nervous system. The pain built swirled flooded through until you weren’t sure where you ended and the potion began which was a funny thought because of course you were you, but you couldn’t remember who you were before this so you laughed but that really hurt, oh how that hurt no no no no no bad idea–  
“Fuck– no–” James? Was he here too?
You blinked– when did your eyes open?– and saw him reach for you, frantically pushing his dark curls off his forehead. Why would he do that? You loved his hair, even when you were feeling funny awful things from the potion. You felt his arms scoop under you, lifting you off your seat as he caught your head from falling back. You heard a door slam open, footsteps, darkness clouding your vision–
His voice. “Sweetheart, no– don’t do that, I need you to keep your eyes open.”
You blinked again, trying to focus on James’ face. He looked pale, jaw set and tensed like it was before his Quidditch games. Were you moving? You couldn’t tell whether James was walking or the hallways were walking around you. He glanced down again, exhaling with relief once he saw whatever he was looking for. “Yeah, just like that. Keep those pretty eyes focused on me, okay?” 
He thought your eyes were pretty? 
James gave a tight laugh. “Yeah, I think your eyes are pretty, dove. Hold on a bit longer, we’re almost there,” he choked out. 
Oh. Had you said that out loud?
But you thought– he had said something, before, you couldn’t remember now but it was important and it hurt–
Some part of you, deep where the potion hadn’t reached, had melted at his words. That part was tinged with pain, too, but in a different way, raw and honest and hopeful and all for him. Or maybe that was the potion, you were pretty sure witches weren’t supposed to melt unless they were green and lived somewhere much further west, but your thoughts on the whole process evaporated as you reached a white door and a woman and your words started to swirl until they melted too and everything went black.
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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 month
Text
A Feast of Blood
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Also on AO3
Pairing: Vampire!Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Vampire!Reader (fem)
WC: 3.5k words
Summary: An AU in which Hannibal is a vampire. // Shortly after turning you into a vampire, your sire, Hannibal Lecter, teaches you how to feed, using Will Graham as subject. Things just get really horny from then on lmao
Warnings: Dead dove DO NOT EAT, SMUT (18 + ONLY), Fem!Reader, lots of body fluids being swapped (saliva, blood, cum // don't read if it makes you queasy), vampirism, blood drinking (consensual), blood mentions, biting, raw p in v (DO NOT DO IT), slightly subby Will?, very slight enemies to lovers if you squint, let me know if anything else!
Tags: @the-devils-littlegirl
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"Well fed devils behave better than famished saints." -D.L. Smith.
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The night drew closer to the hour between the dog and the wolf, shadows deepening. It had been quiet for the most part, as if the house was also holding its breath in anticipation.
Then the doorbell rang, loud as a death knell, announcing his arrival.
“Dinner time,” Hannibal said with a grin, his tone almost playful. 
He got up to open the front door, but you stayed put, smoothing out the hem of your dress. It was nothing fancy since you knew you would very likely ruin it, but you still wanted to look presentable.
You were more curious than nervous about tonight’s lesson, especially since it wasn’t with a complete stranger. 
For a week after Hannibal had turned you, he fed you only the blood that he’d procured. He’d wanted you to regain your strength first, but he had stressed the importance of learning to feed by yourself as soon as you were able.
As it were, Will, his most consistent donor, had been called in as the subject. You had met him well before you were turned, though even then Hannibal was well established as your sire. 
Will was always reserved, if a bit prickly, towards you. You wondered if he’d thought of you as just another one of Hannibal’s human playthings, gullible enough to believe he’d actually turn you.
It was true enough that Hannibal had fed on you a few times, but it was unlike his other feedings. You had watched him a couple of other times, oscillating between unbridled carnage and self-possession. 
The latter was more like bonding for him — The brutal intimacy of the bite, the unspoken trust that no deadly harm would be inflicted, the decadence of your life’s essence flowing through him. Sustaining him. 
But of course, he had kept his word, guiding you into the eternal night. And these were pleasures you would get to experience anew, just from the other side of things. You wondered what Will thought of the sudden turn of fate. 
He followed Hannibal into the living room, absentmindedly undoing the top buttons of his flannel shirt. You raised your eyebrows at Hannibal, who seemed equally amused at Will’s apparent eagerness. 
“A simple hello would be enough of a greeting,” you said lightly, tone just teasing enough for him to know you weren’t sneering. 
Will let his hands drop as he became conscious of his actions. “Force of habit.”
“Sit, please, Will,” Hannibal said, gesturing towards an armchair. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Will snorted at the irony of trying to relax around not one, but two bloodsuckers, but he sat regardless. His posture was tense, arms rigidly placed on the armrests, shoulders squared. 
“Don’t tell me you’ve started getting nervous now,” you said, feeling bold enough to continue testing him. “This isn’t your first rodeo.”
“Well, I trust Hannibal possesses enough self-control not to kill me. You, on the other hand…” He grimaced as if remembering himself, looking down. 
You sniffed, offended. “I didn’t pounce on you the minute you walked in, did I?” 
Hannibal put a placating hand on your arm. “Don’t take it to heart, my love. I have had years to harness myself, and it has not been an easy journey. And you, Will, must also understand that patience goes both ways.”
Will inclined his head in acknowledgment. “True, I apologize for that.”
Still, Hannibal could understand his spike in anxiety, but he’d decided to be polite and not mention it outright, as you did. 
“Something to drink for you, maybe? I’ve got that scotch you like,” he offered, and Will accepted.
As Hannibal went to get it for him, you and Will stared at each other for a tense moment. Perhaps his animosity stemmed from envy at you being a newly minted vampire. You weren’t sure if Hannibal had ever promised him anything, but you were sure your sire would have mentioned it if that was the case.
“Think you’ll be able to stand having me close to you?” You asked, tone mild once again. 
Hannibal returned, handing Will a glass of the amber liquid. He raised it in your direction, as if toasting to you. 
“After one of these, I’ll be loose and relaxed for you, don’t worry,” he said wryly, taking a swig. 
Your eyes were drawn to his throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed. You briefly wondered if you’d be able to taste the scotch in his blood, and if it would warm you the same way it did him.
“Better?” Hannibal asked, one eyebrow raised. 
Will nodded, flexing his fingers. Then, with a more determined look on his face, he turned to you. 
“Can I sit next to you?” He asked. “Seems like a good place to start.”
You slowly nodded, shuffling to the side to give him as much space as you could. You unconsciously glanced over at Hannibal for reassurance, and he gave you a serene smile.
“That’s better,” he said. “See? Nothing to worry about.”
This time, Will was sensible enough not to react. His head turned towards you, but his eyes didn’t meet yours quite yet. 
“That’s a nice perfume. What is it?” He asked, actively trying to soften his tone. 
“Oleander,” you said. 
“Deceptively sweet, but ultimately deadly,” he said, referring to the flower’s poisonous effects. 
He looked up then, eyebrows raised, and you let out an amused huff. “I suppose you’re gonna say it’s fitting.”
“That’s a given, but take that as a compliment, please.”
Hannibal chuckled. “There it is, Will. Flattery will get you much further.”
“Why don’t you sit on his other side?” You asked Hannibal. “Maybe he’ll be more comfortable that way.”
He complied, making Will scoot closer to the middle, his leg lightly brushing yours. That first contact made you tense, hunger stirring curiously within you.
Warmth emanated from him and your sensitive ears registered his heartbeat, loud as a drum. You could see the pulsing blue veins underneath his pale skin, branching out like the roots of an ancient tree. He was deliciously alive, and it filled you with longing. 
There were many things in your new, preternatural state that you were still getting used to. Nostalgia was a sheen on your mind you knew you had to shed, but it would take some time. You found yourself leaning closer to him, wanting to be near that spark, but both men misinterpreted this move.
“Easy now, we’re still warming up here,” Will said, but he didn’t move away. “Unless you’re just absolutely famished, then I don’t want you to torture yourself anymore.”
“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth.
“Do you need another drink, Will?” Hannibal asked, sensing the tension returning.
He shook his head. “I’m good for now. Do you think it might be a good idea to try with my wrist first?”
“Yes, great idea,” Hannibal said. “Though not too much. We’ll save it for the next part.”
Will unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up to his elbow. He offered you his arm, the inside of his wrist facing up. You took it gingerly, your fingers lightly following the patterns of his veins. The touch was so gentle it tickled him a little, making the hairs on his arm rise. 
You brought his wrist up closer to your face, looking over at Hannibal as your lips were mere inches from making contact. He nodded encouragingly.
“There is more room for error here, but not by much. Don’t fully sink your teeth in, it’s enough to just break the skin,” he said, making sure you were listening by holding your gaze.
This time, your eyes flicked over to Will’s face, and he also nodded. Your sharp, slightly elongated canines pierced the soft flesh and blood bubbled right into your mouth in a burst of flavor.
You let out a sound akin to a whimper, latching onto the wound. Will sucked in a sharp breath at the sting but stayed put. 
“That’s enough now,” Hannibal said firmly, bringing you back to the present.
You painstakingly reined yourself in and lapped it up with your tongue, closing the small wounds. Your lips were smeared crimson as you straightened, panting, chin dipped in slight embarrassment.
“Sorry…” you murmured, licking your lips. 
“Don’t apologize, you did good, Mieloji,” he said reassuringly, the Lithuanian endearment making you smile. “Now, how about we get to the good part?”
Hunger lashed your insides like a whip at the prospect of more. They could both see the feverish glint in your eye, and Hannibal knew you were trying your hardest to prove Will wrong. He wasn’t sure, however, of how long you would last before giving in to instinct.
He pressed a little closer to Will, knowing he would have to be more careful this time around. You, on the other hand, hesitated.
“Do you… need a break or something?” You asked Will slowly.
“No. Do you?” He said evenly, undoing a few other buttons on his shirt and pushing it off one shoulder.
You shook your head embarrassingly fast. He chuckled, and it was the first time you had seen him break out into a smile that night. It set you more at ease, encouraging you to draw closer as well.
His breathing hitched as you leaned against his arm. Your face neared the crook of his neck, and you gently nudged his jaw upwards with your nose.
“That’s it, my love, tilt his head just so,” Hannibal instructed patiently, his voice like a purr. “See the line of his artery, how his pulse surges at your nearness.”
Your mouth watered, your pupils blown wide with a beastly desire. Before you could help yourself, you traced the tip of your tongue over his skin. You could taste the adrenaline in his sweat, but a hum of pleasure escaped Will’s lips.
Hannibal chuckled, letting you indulge a moment longer.
“Now remember, the bite must be precise. A single fluid motion, otherwise it can get messy,” he continued, tangling his fingers through Will’s curls, keeping his head in place. “He will whimper, but the pain only lasts a moment.”
“What if he moves?” You murmured, voice low and slightly hoarse, conscience fighting through the fog of your bloodlust.
“He won’t, he’s very well-behaved. Isn’t that right, Will?”
Will nodded his assent, eyes heavy-lidded. “I promise I’ll be good.”
Angling your head to one side for better access, you didn’t let yourself hesitate. Once your teeth tore into the side of his neck, his body went rigid at first, but then it slowly started to relax. 
You clasped him against you, lost in the rush of blood his heart was suddenly pumping down your throat. Without you noticing, you hooked a leg over one of his, your body trying to envelop him like a serpent. 
It didn’t matter that you’d been bickering mere moments ago, bristling at the mere thought of being in the same room together. All of that melted away as soon as your lips touched his skin. Will’s breathing had turned shallow, the barest of sounds occasionally escaping his lips. 
His taste was indescribable, like pure starlight, crackling like electricity within you. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and all you wanted was more, more, more. You could perfectly understand why Hannibal would occasionally give in to savagery.
“Slow down,” Hannibal instructed, taking hold of one of your arms. “Slower. That’s it, good girl.”
You peered up at him through your lashes, your eyes bloodshot and utterly inhuman. He caressed the back of your head gently, proud of you for fighting so hard to keep control of yourself. He was on the same boat as you, the metallic scent like a siren’s lure.
“Now stop, before you take too much,” he said, looking over at Will. “Are you doing okay, Will?”
“Dizzy, but I’ll live,” he said weakly, groaning softly as you closed the puncture wounds with your tongue once more. “Do you need me, too?”
“Just rest for now,” Hannibal said absently, eyes fixed on you. “I’ll get myself a taste.”
You disentangled yourself from Will, slowly coming back to reality. The lower half of your face, your neck, and your chest were stained crimson, adorning you like macabre jewelry. 
Hannibal immediately drew you to him, kissing you like he was trying to devour you whole. The blood smeared messily between you, tongues swirling in each other’s mouths. When you separated, an obscene, pink string of saliva hung between your lips.
He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself some despite the desire glazing his eyes.
“I… I will get you some water, and something to eat,” He said to Will in a daze, standing up from the couch slowly. “Just— one second.”
You watched him leave the room, your mind still whirling from the whole thing. Then suddenly, you scented fresh blood once again and looked over at Will in surprise. He had bitten his lip hard enough to bleed, and it was starting to swell. He was breathing hard, and there was a plea in his striking blue eyes.
You let out a desirous, pathetic sound, your body moving on its own accord. Your lips slid over his in an almost kiss, your faces inches apart, breaths mingling.
“You really want me to kiss you?” You panted, eyes heavy lidded. “I thought you hated me.”
He shook his head. “It was envy, and it was want. It was always want.”
You kissed him then, trembling eagerly. It was slow and tentative at first, but intensity built quickly. You were still riding the high of feeding from him, but a languorous heat was also spreading through you; Burning everything else away.
You didn’t hear Hannibal returning, but you felt him take his place back on Will’s other side. One look at him, and you could immediately tell he was just as restless. You broke the kiss for a moment to meet Hannibal’s lips, enticing him further.
And when you returned to Will’s lips, Hannibal’s face drew close, too. Then all three of you were kissing, a mess of lips and tongues and an ever-growing voracity. 
You left them to it for a moment and practically tore the rest of Will’s shirt off, exposing more of his warm skin. You trailed open-mouthed kisses all over it and Will moaned into Hannibal’s mouth.
“Please,” he pleaded, as if it was the only word he could say. “Please.”
“What do you need?” You rasped, kissing his neck and making him shudder. 
“Have me, use me,” he said as Hannibal pulled back. “Leave nothing behind.”
Hannibal raised his eyebrows in delighted surprise, watching you slide onto Will’s lap, straddling him. 
“Careful what you wish for,” he said, smirking. “She just might make it come true.”
He stood and helped you pull your dress over your head. Will’s brows furrowed and he let out a small, agonized sound as he took you in. His hands roamed over you reverently, like a worshiper praising his goddess. 
You did quick work of his belt, pulling off his pants as much as you could. You reached down and felt the velvety underside of his erection with the tips of your fingers. His hips bucked into your hand and you shushed soothingly, gently, promising to ease his torment.
And then, holding it by the base, you slowly sank down on his cock. His grip tightened on your hips, helping you move as Hannibal dipped down to kiss you. His fingers stroked up and down your throat, keeping your head tilted back and your chest exposed.
Will’s lips latched onto one of the hardened peaks of your nipples, and you felt his stubble graze the soft skin as he rubbed his face against your breast. He repeated his motions with the other one, grunting when he felt you clench down on him slightly. His teeth added an edge that made you buck and writhe, but neither let you move too far.
You palmed Hannibal’s growing bulge over his slacks as you dragged your tongue over his. He covered your hand with one of his, pressing your palm tighter against it. Your hips rolled against Will’s faster, your free hand buried in his hair, tugging slightly.
“Fuck me,” you could hear Will breathe out in tempo with your movements, like a hypnotic chant. “Oh, yeah, fuck me… just like that.”
“Katinėli, let me get a better taste of you,” Hannibal murmured deliriously, tilting your head to the side and biting into your shoulder.
You cried out, eyelids twitching as your eyes rolled back into your skull. It was that overwhelming rush that made the first orgasm violently slam against you. Momentarily, you became nothing but pure sensation, held aloft by the two of them. 
When you came back into your body, Hannibal was mending the skin of your shoulder, undoing his slacks. You collapsed against Will, trying to catch your breath. He clung to you, in the last throes of his own release. As it turned out, the intensity of your climax had milked out his own. He smiled beatifically, his eyes heavy-lidded, long lashes fanning close to his cheekbones.
You couldn’t help a weak chuckle, lightly kissing his jaw. “Now you might need a break.”
“When I get my strength back, you’ll see… but for now, yes,” he said, also chuckling.
“All the better for me,” Hannibal said from behind you. Your back bowed as he planted a ticklish kiss on the base of your spine. “It’s my turn to reward you.”
Your gluttonous desire flared back to life, and you were pliant as he helped you off of Will, bending you over the back of the couch. Hannibal extended his hand towards him and said, “A little help?”
Will spat in his hand, and Hannibal slicked his saliva over his cock. You heard him suck in a breath as he pushed into you, stretching you slowly. Will offered you his hand and you threaded your fingers through his, keeping eye contact with him as Hannibal’s hips began snapping into yours. 
Your mouth was slackened by wanton moans, your body pressed flat against the back of the couch as Hannibal bent over you. One of his hands was on the back of your neck, pinning you in place, while the other gripped your hip.
“Such a good girl for me,” he panted. “You did so, so good tonight.”
“Please, let me taste you too,” you begged, already losing yourself once more to the hazy oblivion.
He could deny you nothing, so he presented his wrist to your wanting mouth. The pain of your teeth was exquisite, and you drank with the greediness of the famished.
Drinking from each other was like falling in love all over again. Like the deepest embrace, beyond carnality; Beyond even the physical. More of his weight leaned on you as he slid in and out of you, faster and faster, the collective euphoria between you growing. His grunts and moans were like a savage melody to your ears, indicating that he was getting close.
Will was whispering praise and sweet nothings near your ear as you gripped his hand tighter. These soft coaxings, along with the soothing feeling that Hannibal’s blood brought, and you felt yourself dissolve once more like seafoam under the sunlight. The ecstasy was almost religious, a glimpse of the heaven you might never see beyond moments like this. 
But if it meant your nights would be filled with such encounters, then you were more than okay with that. 
With one last, triumphant growl, Hannibal came inside of you. His cock was fully sheathed in your cunt, his last few strokes short and tight, riding out every last wave of pleasure alongside you.
He slipped out of you, withdrawing his wrist from your mouth. You sat back down next to Will, leaning against him. With the last of your strength, grabbed the glass of water and helped him drink from it. The three of you shared sated, conspiratorial smiles, like you instinctively knew all along things would lead to this moment.
“How about a bath?” Hannibal offered, kissing your shoulders as he hovered near you. “We could all use some cleaning up.”
“That’s a good idea,” you said. “And then we can take better care of Will here. I want to make sure he recovers his strength, after all.”
Will couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, you’re so kind to think about me.”
You smiled a Cheshire cat’s grin. “See? I can give as much as I take.”
“I’m never doubting you again,” he said, glancing up at Hannibal. “Either of you. Hannibal was right about you all along.”
You nuzzled his neck. “Hmmm, if only you’d realized sooner, we’d have been much more amicable before this.”
“But I’m yours now too, aren’t I?”
Yes, he was, and neither you nor Hannibal had any plans to let him go any time soon.
-------
166 notes · View notes
ki-yomii · 9 months
Text
phases of a daydream | myg
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➥ pairing | min yoongi x f!reader
➥ word count | 2.8k
➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, oral (f receiving), squirting, soft dom!yoongi, pet names, mild degradation kink, mild praise kink, begging, teasing, implied established relationship, brief threesome fantasy feat JK
➥ summary | you get up early to surprise yoongi with breakfast in bed, only he ends up surprising you instead.
➥ notes | this man has made my oral fixation 10x worse. for all the sleepy girlies out there 🫡
💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚
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The early Sunday morning sun hovers low on the horizon, its golden light peeking through gaps between downtown Seoul’s high risers.
The cacophony of city life sounds muted, far away, foggy with sleep. Slow to rise as vibrant brushstrokes of color chase away the velvet nighttime sky.
Some of the only ones awake are food stand owners with tteokbokki and eomuk in hand, Hongdae club go-ers, and you, apparently. It’s peaceful - certainly different from your usual routine.
But it’s also an experience you don’t see yourself repeating soon.
As nice as watching the sunrise is, you’d rather be dead than awake at this hour, especially on a weekend. You’ll never understand how some people like getting up while the world’s still cold and dark.
It’s criminal.
Couldn’t be me, you think while swirling oil around the pan, and ignoring the fact you did that just this morning.
It’s a minor miracle when you’re fully awake before 11 AM, and that’s after you guzzle down so much caffeine you vibrate in place.
Woe to whoever expects more than dispassionate glares and unintelligible grunts as you migrate from the bed to the couch.
What can you say, you’re not a morning girlie: you hate the half-drunk awareness, the sour taste clinging to the back of your tongue, the sticky sweat, and how overwhelmingly bright everything is.
Instead, you’d much rather nestle into bed, groggy and warm.
So Min Yoongi better count his blessings because he’s the only reason you’re in the kitchen at 7 AM, wearing nothing but a shirt that barely covers your ass while trying - and failing - to flip nurungji.
Quiet Spotify tunes and Min Holly’s rumbling snores are the only background noise amid your bitten off curses.
Before you met him, you used to make fun of girls so far gone for a guy they lost touch with reality. And now, you’re one of them, fighting for your life in the trenches.
He’s got you so whipped, it should be illegal.
Furthermore, it’s downright unfair how endearing you find it. It should infuriate you. Instead, you’re kitten soft.
And Yoongi knows how to use it to his advantage - knows it’s that stupid smirk paired with a face that makes smart girls dumb.
It never fails to win you over; the pretty eyes, the plush lips, the sharp jawline - you’re an absolute goner. If only smug didn’t look so good on him…
Karma’s a bitch, isn’t it?
The only thing that somewhat mollifies your bruised pride is the fact that should everything go to plan, your less than innocent intentions will come to fruition.
After all, your stolen shirt leaves so little to the imagination, you needn’t have bothered. And when Yoongi sees you practically naked, with breakfast in bed?
Fire meets gasoline.
While he might never say it outright, there’s no denying the way Yoongi’s eyes go soft and hungry whenever he catches you prancing around in his shirt.
He swears he’s going to throw it out, threadbare and worn, yet there it sits. Waiting in the back of his closet for the next time you stay over.
But that’s how it’s always been; a game of cat and mouse. You tease, he reacts - a constant push and pull, flirting with the boundaries of his restraint.
Though admittedly, you’ve never been this brazen before; ass out and nipples hard.
Although it’s not like he lives with the rest of the members anymore, so why not up the ante?
Even if imagining someone walking in on you (no matter how improbable) gets your blood pumping, and your pussy aching.
No one has to know about the dirty little fantasy you indulge in more often than you care to admit.
No one has to know how wet you get at the thought of getting caught bent over, stuffed full of Yoongi’s cock and unable to do anything but moan as he makes you take it.
Certainly, he’d play along.
The smooth thrust of his hips wouldn’t falter, wouldn’t stop. He’d fuck sweet whines out of you, make you cum so hard you gush.
Would keep you pinned in place with his hands, and tease you about how much you liked getting wrecked in front of his friend like a perfect little bitch.
Especially if it was Jungkook.
Yoongi thinks it’s cute how frazzled you get around the maknae; a silly, schoolgirl crush. In fact, he’d probably use it to his advantage. After all, he loves to taunt, tease.
Oh, he definitely would, you think, biting your lip as your stomach clenches and your thighs twitch.
His fingers would dig into your jaw, force you to look if you tried to hide; make you stare deep into those wide Bambi eyes with his chin hooked over your shoulder and his voice rough in your ear.
Grinding his cock head over your g-spot with every flex of his hips as your pussy tries to milk him dry, “You just gonna stand there, huh? C’mere, let’s have some fun. She doesn’t mind.”
...
"Ow, shit," you hiss, jerking back from the stove as angry heat blooms through your fingertips, "fuck, that hurts!"
Dropping the spatula, you scramble to the sink and run cold water over your hand while glaring at the sizzling pan. It might have been your fault for getting distracted, but rude.
Even if the pain helps calm down some of your raging hormones.
Okay, down girl, you think, chill out.
So despite your fingers feeling tight and swollen like a bad sunburn, and as hot a fantasy as that is, you take your sign from the universe and recollect yourself.
For now, you need to focus on the task at hand which comes at the expense of no more daydreaming.
Resolutely ignoring the sticky cling of your inner thighs, you slip the spatula under the rice patty and quickly flip it over.
It sizzles as it drops back into the pan, little splashes of oil kicking up.
Thankfully, the bottom isn’t too badly scorched. A little darker than you’d like but beggars can’t be choosers when they burn themselves because they’re too distracted by the thought of dick.
Giving the other side a few minutes to crisp up, you frown down at the forming blister. You poke it with a wince.
It’s not too big, and the sting isn’t terrible. You were able to sap the heat from the wound quick enough.
Honestly, what hurts worse is your pride - a total rookie move.
When its ready, you dump it onto a plate without ceremony before turning to grab the sugar. Only to gasp as you run into a solid chest instead of open air.
Forearms snake around your waist as Yoongi tugs you into the curve of his body. Pressed together from chest to hip, he feels the hitch of your breath when his thigh wedges itself between yours.
“Oh, y-you’re up!”
Fingertips flirt with the hem of your (his) shirt, inching higher to caress the slope of your rib cage. Goosebumps break out across your skin, your nipples pulling taut as a shiver judders down your spine.
Low-slung sweats cling to Yoongi’s trim hips, his erection tenting the cotton.
“Mm, morning,” he says, the greeting slurred out in a voice raspy with sleep. “Smells good.”
You swallow. “Good morning, baby.” You lean forward, and kiss the tip of his nose. “How’d you sleep?” Your hand scrapes over the nape of his neck, playing with the soft baby hairs.
It wasn’t until sometime after 3 AM that he’d wiggled into bed, most of the night spent in front of his MIDI, fiddling with chords and arrangements.
He rests his chin on the top of your head with a sigh, his breath ruffling the hair of your crown, “Hnng, slept alright.”
Arms tighten around you in a light squeeze while cheeky fingers inch up your torso to trace along the underside of your breast.
“Had the best dream though.”
Your breath catches in your chest, your heart stuttering against your ribs when he grinds forward, languid and loose. Your gut clenches hotly in interest as his cock rests heavy against your hip.
A temptation, a promise of what’s to come. Your palms sneak around his sides, resting on sleep-warm skin.
When you speak, its more of a breathless whisper than actual words, “Yeah, I can see that.”
“C’mon, baby, don’t you want to help me out?” Yoongi hums, peppering kisses along the length of your neck. A rough thumb drags over the peak of your nipple. “Promise it’ll be good for you.”
“Yoongi!”
“Fuck,” a kneecap grinds up against your tender pussy, spreading your slick, swollen folds open, “can feel you through my pants. Let me, I know you want to.”
Your hips stutter, and you swallow your whine. “I do…”
Pleasure sings in your blood as you soak the fabric covering his thigh, a needy desperation rearing its head from deep within.
Flames lick along your skin, liquid fire pooling low behind your navel like a shot of whiskey.
“But,” you long for the bite of his teeth, the snap of his hips, the roughness of his grip, “I just finished making breakfast.”
Pouting, you stare up at him.
A tender expression softens the lines of his face. But the desire simmering beneath the gentle veneer remains, rough and rude.
There’s a raging tempest in his gaze, twin rings of rich coffee consumed by the black holes of his pupils.
Utterly ravenous, greedy as he traces your features.
It’s a look that’ll leave you weak-kneed and pumped full of cum.
“I know, and I appreciate the effort.”
He’s earnest, aflame with craven desire even as he presses a tender kiss to the side of your face. 
“But I’d rather eat you out. You’ll let me, won’t you, pretty girl?”
You nearly choke on your tongue, and say, “Well, how am I supposed to say no to a face like that?”
You’ve barely got the words out before you find yourself flat on your back, the unyielding marble of Yoongi’s counter top cold against your heated skin.
Calloused palms pry your thighs apart, grip so firm it dimples the fat as Yoongi holds you open and exposed.
He runs his nose along your sensitive inner thigh, his lips warm and ready as his breath pants over your soaked core.
When your clit throbs, he groans low and wrecked, “Just look at this pretty pussy.”
Almost reverently, he strokes his thumbs over the length of your folds, dips his fingers into your entrance to spread the gathering slick.
Whimpering, your head smacks back against the granite and your hips jerk up towards his face
“Can’t wait til I get my mouth on you.”
“Shit, Yoongi, you can’t - you can’t just say stuff like that.”
He flicks your clit, relishing in how your whole body jumps as he demands, “Why not?”
“B-Because you just can’t, okay?” Your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. There’s no doubt, he’s going to be the death of you one day. “It’s not-”
Fair.
“I think you don’t want me talking like that because you like it. Don’t you, baby?”
“I-”
The words turn to ash on your tongue. A loud, sloppy lick up the length of your slit shuts you up while a harsh suck to your swollen clit makes you whine. Your back bows hard, your hands flying down to sink into the dark mane of his hair.
“Ohh g- ah!”
“That’s it,” Yoongi smacks his lips, humming low in his throat, “Let me hear you.”
Forearms anchor themselves over your thighs. Using his body weight to keep you pinned, he tugs you close and strokes his fingers over your sticky folds, humming in approval at the obscene squelch.
Slick oozes out of you with every talented caress, dripping down your ass to puddle on the countertop.
“Always get so wet for me, don’t you?” Yoongi buries his smirk in the crease of your thigh, his tongue darting out to tease the very edge of your cunt. “You’re such a messy little slut, just how I like it.”
Before you can properly respond, he’s spreading you open and bowing his head. You squirm as his plush lips glide over the top of your mound, butterfly kisses tracing the beginning of your needy slit.
His bangs brush the soft underside of your belly. “Ready?”
He doesn’t wait before diving in, sucking the hard nub of your clit into his mouth. Stars burst behind your clenched eyelids. Soft, warm suction sends pleasure ricocheting through your limbs, your stomach caving in with every tender pulse of his mouth.
Your mouth drops open on a silent gasp
“That’s so - fuck,” you pant, hand scrambling for something to hold onto, hips jerking beneath his firm grip. “Yoongi!”
The wild movements nearly dislodge him, and he grunts in displeasure before readjusting to keep you better pinned.
His tongue retreats from your clit, and he sets his teeth against your pussy in warning, a gentle bite that doesn’t break skin but carries the slightest sting.
“‘m sorry, please - haahhh - please don’t stop,” you slur, fingers digging into his scalp. “I’ll be good, just please don’t stop, I can’t-”
He grunts at the rake of your nails, tongue lashes out in retaliation. He dips the tip into the tight clench of your entrance, teasing your sensitive walls.
Meanwhile, his nose grinds against your clit. The sensation’s almost too much, your body alight like a live-wire. You feel like you’re about to rocket off of the countertop, one of your hands de-tangling from his hair to yank at your own.
“S’too much - s’too good. Please, baby, I can’t!”
Yoongi ignores your cries, knows you’d sooner stab him with a knife if he stopped.
Anyway, you can take it.
You’re his good girl, after all.
You both like it wet and messy; love when the honey of your cunt soaks his face, sticks to his lips and drips from his chin.
All you can do is cry out, your chest pointed towards the ceiling as his tongue fucks deep, never stops chasing every drop of pleasure. Your toes curl from the alteration between flat, firm licks and gentle sucks.
Sweat gathers in your hairline, behind your knees as a heady rush sends you spinning, mind a haze of sensation.
You can’t stop rolling your hips, chasing after his talented mouth. In no time at all, Yoongi’s going to have you violently, explosively cumming on his tongue - just like he always does.
“Give it to me,” he growls, “Wanna feel this pretty pussy gush.”
You moan,” Yoongi, I’m - please, don’t stop. R-Right there!”
Your thighs clench around his head, biting down on your lip to hold in the scream threatening to break free.
“Fuck, please, ‘m almost there.”
Your pathetic cries spur him on.
With renewed enthusiasm, Yoongi twirls his tongue across the top of your slit, the tip playing with the hood of your clit. You clench down hard. It’s almost too much, like he’s reached deep inside and plucked at your nerves.
Then, the leaden ball of heat behind your navel contracts. Expands into a blazing inferno that threatens to swallow you whole, spreading out along your limbs like bolts of lightening until you shake.
“That’s it, come on,” Yoongi says, coaxing every ounce of pleasure he can. “I’ve got you, pretty girl. Now, cum for me.”
All it takes is one last talented pulse of his tongue. Your orgasm rips through you with a loud, keening cry. Your back arches so high your spine feels like it’s about to snap, and slick gushes from you in a warm flood.
The ball of heat snaps, races down through your body from the crown of your head to your toes. Your thighs tremble from where they’re clenched around Yoongi’s head, soaked. Your heart slams against your ribs.
“F-Fuck…”
Collapsing against the cool stone, and panting hard, you push away stray hairs sticking to your face.
Glancing down the length of your twitching body, you see Yoongi still kneeling between your splayed thighs.
The lower half of his face is soaked with cum and drool. His sweatpants were kicked off at some point, you’re not sure when but it doesn’t really matter when his cock throbs against his belly, hard and wanting as the tip weeps pre-cum.
But it’s his eyes that really do you in; hot, hungry, and awe-filled.
“Can’t believe I’ve never made you squirt before.”
Those sinful lips part, red and swollen as his tongue swipes out to gather any leftover slick clinging to his mouth. A rough moan rumbles from his throat.
“Think you can do it again for me, baby?”
A weak laugh escapes you, and you think - not for the first time - that Min Yoongi is going to be the reason you die.
531 notes · View notes
honeyhotteoks · 10 months
Text
this night together - chapter eight (j.yh + s.mg)
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chapter eight: just what friends are for
chapter summary: a new set of friends help you through heat and this time it just works like clockwork
warnings: this is a full smut-a-thon. specific tags for: heat, knotting, and other a/b/o dynamics, gratituous use of 'alpha' and 'omega', fingering, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), use of sex toys / dildos, frank conversations about sex and heat, praise praise praise, light degradation, alpha on alpha action which means m/m pairing here, not just them helping reader, so much cum including the artificial kind.....
notes: thank you all so much for your patience!! next chapter is in progress, but tbd on post date.
pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader for the core fic overall, but this chapter is alpha!seonghwa x alpha!san x omega!wooyoung x omega!reader
genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory
word count: 16.8k
previous chapter | next chapter | AO3
Unlike your last heat, this time you sleep through the night. Despite the ache in your hips and the hot flashes that leave you kicking off your covers, you stay deep in sleep with the comforting scent of another omega near you. You don’t start to wake properly until morning, with the sun peeking through the gaps in the curtains. 
For a moment, just a sliver of a second, you forget where you are. A little jolt running up your spine as you feel a warm body underneath you, but then you see his tan skin and mop of black hair and remember you’re with Wooyoung and you’re safe. You let yourself relax again, cheek once again on his shoulder and you take a deep, steady breath. The warm summer sun washes through you at his scent, and your busy mind seems to quiet back down. He’s still sleeping, head turned to the side away from you and mouth open, the room silent except for the tiny little catches in the back of his throat that indicate he’s still deep in sleep. 
At some point in the night your bodies became further tangled up together, that’s the first thing you really notice. You’re almost entirely on top of him, lounging across him like he’s a body pillow, with one leg hitched over his thigh and your face buried in his chest. The second thing you notice is how tight your stomach is and how hard your nipples feel pressed up against the rough fabric of your shirt. 
Wooyoung groans a little, stretching under you as he stretches into his morning, and you’re doing just fine until his leg shifts and suddenly you’re pressed firmly against his thigh. 
It’s almost embarrassing how apparent the wet patch in your underwear is, just the sensation of something warm pressing up against your slick core leaving your body responding in seconds. Your nipples harden further and your back aches a little, but you stay as still as you can and exhale softly, trying to disguise how shaky and needy you feel in your gut. 
Wooyoung grumbles something, his head tossing to the opposite side, and you feel his arm close over your back, “Hey, cuddle bug,” 
It cuts the tension immediately, and you laugh against his chest, “Sorry, I know I kind of attached in the night,” 
“It’s fine,” His hand smooths up and down over your back and you press your eyes closed to ignore the throbbing you’re starting to feel. He yawns above you, “It’s good you slept,” 
“Mhm,” You nod against his chest. 
“Are you feeling okay?” He checks. 
“Very, very comfortable,” You tell him, and that’s partially true. 
“It’s the nest,” He yawns again, “I swear my heats are like ten times better here,” 
“I think it’s more you,”
“Nah,” Wooyoung ruffles your hair, “it’s the bamboo cooling sheets, I know all the tricks,” 
He makes you laugh softly again, but this time he shifts under you completely to adjust his position underneath you and when he brings his leg up, pushing his thigh against your core harder, your fingers tighten on his arms and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes from your lips. 
He freezes entirely, the room quiet. 
“S-sorry,” You exhale tightly, starting to push yourself up from your nestled place on his chest so you can try and find his eyes and see how uncomfortable this is about to be. 
“Why didn’t you say?” His hands slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your lower back. 
“Let me,” As much as you don’t want to, you start to push your body up and away from him, but he catches you in his arms and brings you back down to his chest, “Woo,” 
“Do you like kissing?” He asks out of nowhere, his hand pushing into your hair and guiding your gaze to his. 
“What?” You blink. 
“You’re so tense,” He studies your face, applying a little pressure where he holds you to guide you back down into a fully comfortable position, “it’s just me,” 
“But,” You say, words falling flat. You don’t have a reason why or an explanation, it’s just that his hands on you like this is so unexpected. You called Seonghwa, you expected Seonghwa, Wooyoung nestled between your thighs is a wild card. 
“Shh,” He soothes you, hand splaying wide on your skin, “relax, babe, it’s only me,” 
You can barely move, your stomach clenching painfully and your clit all but throbbing against him. You’ve never had sex with another omega, certainly not in heat, but something about his scent and his comforting tone and his hot thigh against your cunt is making the idea of a knot fade from your mind. 
“You really are so pretty,” He smiles, his opposite hand shifting lower to slip under the elastic of your sleep pants, “and you smell so delicious,” 
“Y-Yeah?” 
His hand bypasses the hem of your underwear too and he cups your ass, “Like something sugary,” 
“Honey,” You murmur, the briefest flash of Mingi’s mouth on your throat in your mind’s eye. 
“That’s it,” Wooyoung nods, his voice a soft murmur when he says, “do you taste like honey too?” 
You sigh, hazy feeling against him, warmth in your cheeks. 
“Can I kiss you? Or would that be too weird?” Wooyoung slowly drags you up a little so he can reach your mouth a little better in his reclined position, but he doesn’t move to lock his lips to yours. 
It sounds like it should be weird, especially given how well things turned out between you and Yunho and Mingi, but something about Wooyoung just deflates all the pressure in the room and you’ve never felt more comfortable. 
You nod, and he gathers you close so that you’re laying fully over him. 
“Did you sleep well?” He murmurs softly, nuzzling your nose with his and pressing the briefest, featherlight kiss to your lips. 
“Yeah,” You breathe, your eyes slipping closed as he nuzzles you again. 
“You seem good too,” He comments, letting his lips travel along your jaw until he finds your earlobe and gives it a gentle tug with his teeth. 
Your body twitches in response and you nod against his head. 
“Not in pain?” He checks, his hand once again slipping inside your sleep pants to cup your bare backside. 
“N-not right now,” You murmur. 
“Good,” His lips press against yours, a little longer this time. His lips are so warm, and he alternates between steady kisses and nuzzles, just getting you used to the feeling of his mouth on yours. 
All the while, your body melts down, muscles relaxing one by one. 
Wooyoung sighs warmly against you, his next kiss a little more open, coaxing your mouth to follow. Your stomach erupts in needy little butterflies, and then his tongue is in your mouth. 
“Oh,” You sigh pleasantly and he wraps his arms tighter around you. 
“You feel so good,” He groans, his hands searching your skin under your clothes. 
“S-so do you,” You stammer, your words whispered in the barely there space between you. 
The air is starting to feel thicker around you, warm and hazy, but your body shivers like there’s a chill in the room and you know it’s your heat running you hot and cold. Wooyoung reaches for the comforter, pulling it up and over the two of you so that you’re wrapped tighter in the building warmth. Your hips buck softly as he nips your lip and he nods. 
“Yeah?” He murmurs between kisses and caresses, “How do you feel?” 
Your brain is feeling buzzy and hot and you smile against his mouth, “Fucking horny,” 
He laughs, cupping your cheek as he kisses you again, this time deeper and laden with so much innuendo you think you might just come on the spot. 
You moan into his mouth, and slowly he raises his knee and plants his foot, effectively angling his thigh perfectly right between yours so that you’re straddling him tightly, every rock of your bodies just forcing your cunt closer to him. 
“Come on,” He urges you softly, pressing his hand into your hip and coaxing you into it. 
You follow this press of his hands and push your hips forwards, moaning into him immediately. “Fuck,” You pant against his cheek. 
“Yeah?” He chuckles, dragging your hips back and forth again, coaxing you into a rhythm. 
You nod, lips falling away from his as you collapse over him, eyes slipping closed as you bury your face into the side of his neck. He smells heavenly, and you let that sensation wrap around you as you continue canting your hips and dragging yourself back and forth across his thigh. You can feel the heat radiating off him even through the layers of fabric between you, his sleep pants, yours, and your panties, and you’re sure that you’re soaking through them with every grind of your hips. 
Your head is getting cottony as pleasure starts arcing up your spine, and you feel Wooyoung hold you closer, his lips against your ear. You hear something squeak behind you, and feel the air in the room change, but you don’t stop, you just keep rolling your hips and finding solace in his arms. 
Wooyoung murmurs something, but you don’t quite catch it and you make a soft noise to get him to repeat himself but he doesn’t. The comforter moves from its position draped over you, and the bed shifts. Your hips stop and you blink your eyes open, realizing that you’re not alone in the room anymore. The comforter still covers both of you from the waist down, but anyone could surely tell what you and Wooyoung were doing. 
“Morning,” Seonghwa’s warm, low alpha tone sends a shiver up your spine. 
“Hey,” Wooyoung keeps his voice quiet too, his fingers tracing up and down your back. 
“Everything okay in here?” Seonghwa asks. 
“Mhm,” Wooyoung’s hand slips out of your sleep pants and rests casually on your hip, “we just woke up,” 
“Did she sleep through the night?” He sounds a little surprised. 
“Mhm,” Wooyoung replies. 
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Seonghwa’s voice is soothing, and you sigh when his hand smooths over your hair, “I heard you rustling around and wanted to make sure you weren’t in any pain,” 
“I’m okay,” You assure him, your eyes already getting heavy at the feeling of them both touching you. 
Wooyoung’s thigh tenses between yours and you let out a little shuddering breath. 
“You don’t sound very okay,” Seonghwa murmurs, and your body responds to his tone in a second with a rush of morning slick. Wooyoung chuckles under you at the growing wet patch on his sweats. 
“Don’t laugh,” You slap his chest lightly, “I’m in heat, I can’t help it,” 
“What’s funny?” Seonghwa asks, a smile in his voice. 
“Oh, nothing,” You can practically see the grin on his face, “just one second of you playing sexy concerned alpha and she’s slicking all over me,” 
“Woo!” You press your eyes closed, blush lighting up your neck and cheeks. 
“Don’t tease her like that,” Seonghwa tuts, “that’s not nice,” 
“Maybe she likes not nice,” Wooyoung smirks. 
“Will you two stop that,” You groan, and it feels like even though you’re not getting any friction, the pressure against your clit alone is enough to make the bubble in your belly grow and grow, “I was so close,” 
You don’t mean for your voice to sound so needy, but it does. 
Seonghwa’s alpha responds immediately, and even though you hear Wooyoung chuckle again, he keeps his mouth shut this time. Seonghwa shushes you, pulling back the comforter completely so he can see the way you two are tangled together and then he gets closer, “Oh, jagiya, I’m sorry, let me help,” 
A soft whine leaves you as he takes you in his hands and lifts you away from Wooyoung’s chest. 
“Can you take your bottoms off for me, or do you need a little help, darling?” Seonghwa’s body being so close is making your mind do little somersaults, but you still have control over yourself well enough to shift on the bed and reach for your waistband. 
It’s an awkward position, poised over Wooyoung while Seonghwa holds you in his arms, but Wooyoung reaches out and helps drag your sleep pants off, catching your underwear with his thumbs to pull them away too. 
“Wow,” Wooyoung breathes as your panties pull away, revealing just how slick and puffy you are. 
“That better be a good wow,” You sigh, letting your head fall back onto Seonghwa’s waiting shoulder. 
“Oh, it definitely is,” Wooyoung says, moving around underneath you to kick off his own sleep pants. 
Seonghwa reaches around you then, his hand coming to close over your sex, and then he hums pleasantly, “What a lovely omega, you are,” 
You shudder at his praise, hips pressing down to feel more of his hand, hoping that he’ll slip his fingers inside, but he simply drags his hand up and away and leaves you pulsing with desire. 
“Oh, god,” You groan, “please someone do something,” 
Wooyoung reaches up for you, gathering you back down and Seonghwa supports your slow descent as you get back into position over Wooyoung’s thigh. This time the sensation is instant, his hot skin under yours, and your mind instantly curls back into hazy pleasure with the first rock of your hips. 
“Perfect,” Seonghwa hums, “look at you two,” 
Wooyoung drags your hips along, but laughs sharply at Seonghwa, “Relax, alpha,” he punctuates the word with his tone, “I know this is like, your wet dream, but listen to her… she needs to come,” 
You do, you really, really do. You don’t know what will get you there, but so far you’re dancing on the edge of your pleasure but unable to fully grasp it. Wooyoung feels hot and perfect beneath you, and Seonghwa is saying all the right things to delight the primal part of your brain, but every time you feel close to the edge you fall away from it. 
Frustrated tears gather in your eyes and you bite down on your cheek to keep from crying out in equal irritation at yourself and your body. 
“Hush,” Seonghwa soothes you, his hands sweeping up and down your bare back, “we’re right here, darling,” 
“I can’t,” You work your hips faster against Wooyoung’s thigh, “I’m so…” 
“Tell us what you need, babe,” Wooyoung’s hand dips under your shirt, finding your breast and softly teasing your nipple. 
You moan sharply as pleasure bubbles through you, not quite there but close, “Kiss me, please, please,” 
His mouth is on yours in a second, tongue against yours and everything just hot pants between you both.
Seonghwa’s hands squeeze your hips and you moan as he talks you through it, “That’s it, omega, make yourself come, fuck Youngie’s pretty thigh,” 
You choke out a tight cry into Wooyoung’s mouth. 
“You’re so close,” Seonghwa continues, “so wet, pretty girl,” 
“Oh fuck, fuck,” You fall away from Wooyoung’s mouth, dropping your forehead to his, your hips picking up the pace just a bit, just enough to get you there. 
Wooyoung groans at the sight of you, pushing your hair out of your faces and holding you against him, nodding against your sweat slick skin, “Come,” 
“I’m,” You choke, “I’m…” 
Seonghwa’s hands coast over you, and his next words undo you, “I can’t wait to bury myself in that sweet cunt,” 
Your hips snap forward, your orgasm crashing into you like a wall and you collapse against Wooyoung as it takes you under. Seonghwa reaches his hand around your shuddering thighs and pushes his fingers between your dripping folds and Wooyoung’s slick leg, locating your clit with ease and working his hand fast back and forth to prolong your orgasm. 
You squeak, eyes slamming shut, gripping down on Wooyoung’s shoulders and you’d fall to the side if it weren’t for the two of them holding you steady through the crash of pleasure. 
“That’s it, that’s it,” Seonghwa hums. 
“Oh my god, oh, yes babe,” Wooyoung peppers kisses over your face as your shakes start to transform into little trembling rushes, “mm, I bet that felt so good, didn’t it?” 
You’re nodding, just now coming to the realization that Seonghwa’s hands aren’t between your thighs anymore, you’ve just been dragging your throbbing clit back and forth lazily over Wooyoung’s leg until you’re sated. Your body slows, now just trembling in the afterglow. They’re touching you still, just softly, a lazy bit of aftercare in the morning sun and you sigh across Wooyoung’s chest. 
“Good morning,” Seonghwa chuckles. 
“It is a good morning,” You grin, your head feeling decidedly less foggy after the orgasm and you hide your face in Wooyoung’s chest for a second as you laugh. 
“So ridiculous,” Wooyoung kisses your shoulder and laughs with you, his leg sliding to straighten and effectively dropping you down closer to the bed. 
With a sigh you roll off him and cover your face with your hands, “That was so nice,” 
“You might not even need me,” Seonghwa hums, a little playful pout in his voice as he prods your hip. 
You drop your hands instantly and reach for him, “Mm, Hwa don’t be jealous, I literally woke up on top of him,” 
“Like a clingy space heater,” Wooyoung jokes and you slap his arm. 
Seonghwa smiles, easing himself down next to you both and propping his head up on one hand, “Feeling alright?” 
“I’m so good now,” You confess. 
Wooyoung chuckles and snuggles up to your back, tucking you into him again and taking his hand to tangle your fingers together. 
“Mm,” Seonghwa sighs, brushing Wooyoung’s hair back from his cheek as he looks down at you both, “this really is such a nice surprise,” 
“Mhm,” 
“I think we should get you a nice big breakfast,” Seonghwa smiles, “are you hungry?” 
“A little,” 
Wooyoung’s hand slips out of yours and dips under your oversized shirt, closing over your belly, “Hungry for food?” 
“Shush,” You elbow him. 
“I don’t know,” He nuzzles you, “you seemed pretty insatiable this morning,” 
Blush flushes your cheeks. 
“Maybe you need more,” He nips at your ear and you gasp. 
Reason floods your mind though, and you shake your head, “Woo, no,” 
He stills immediately and angles up to look at you, “What’s up?”
“Can we just talk first? Before this gets messy?” You ask, “Well, messier,” 
His hands are off you in any suggestive way a moment later, and Seonghwa slides off the bed to locate your sleep pants and pass them over to you, “Let’s go make breakfast together and talk,” 
“Okay, good, yes,” You pull on your sleep pants and ease yourself off the bed, Seonghwa’s hand sliding to your arm like a magnet. 
“What are you in the mood for?” Wooyoung pulls open the door to the bedroom, injecting the nest with a cold flush of air and you shiver at the way the feeling of the room changes when you’re not holed up in a mix of their scents. 
“Do you have any fruit?” You ask him, “something light?” 
He nods, “Hwa, can I take care of the food this time?” 
“Sure,” He steps closer to your back, hands not quite holding you, but resting on you in whatever way he can. 
Wooyoung disappears into the kitchen, pulling out various ingredients from the fridge and a cutting board from the cupboard. You notice immediately that he’s quick with a knife, easily dicing up the food, and it’s a little mesmerizing to watch the way he works. Seonghwa watches too, a fond smile on his lips. 
“So,” Seonghwa finally says, turning towards you, “what’s on your mind?”
You ease back onto the living room sofa and tuck your legs in, “I just feel like we’re supposed to talk about this,” 
“It’s a good idea,” Wooyoung assures you, dropping off a plate of expertly cut fruit and glasses of ice water. 
“Mm,” Seonghwa nods, popping a strawberry in his mouth, “we’ve been doing this for so long together I think we forget a bit how familiar we already are,” 
“How long has it been?” You reach for the plate of fruit but Seonghwa pushes your hands away with a soft sound. 
You watch as he piles a plate high with an assortment for you, “Two years? Three?” 
“Three,” Wooyoung says from the kitchen, “y/n, do you want any coffee?”
You shake your head, “Not this morning, thank you,” 
“What about you?” Seonghwa prompts. 
“My heats?” You clarify. 
“Mhm,” He turns towards you fully, listening and attentive, “what about you?” 
Wooyoung takes the seat on the sofa across from you and drops a coffee in front of Seonghwa. 
“Outside of Yunho and Mingi, I’ve never really done the whole casual heat sex thing,” You explain, “I was never very comfortable with it,” 
“I get that,” Wooyoung nods, taking a bite of melon, “it’s hard to know who to trust,” 
“All the time,” You agree with ease. 
Seonghwa frowns, “I wish it weren’t that way,” 
“I know,” Wooyoung shrugs, “but not all alphas are as nice as you and Sannie, that’s just the truth,” 
A shiver runs up your back, you know that all too well and so does Wooyoung. Sometimes not as nice just means pretty words at night and a cold bed in the morning, but sometimes not as nice means so much more. You wonder how many shared experiences you and Wooyoung have had over the course of your lives as omegas. 
Seonghwa’s jaw jumps tightly, his hand on the table pressing into a loose fist and you can feel the tense stress of him at the idea. 
“I hope,” Seonghwa swallows and then looks to you, “that at least San and I have never made you feel uncomfortable,” 
“Never,” You answer fast. 
“And everyone else at the office is,” He trails off, looking to Wooyoung for a little help, “that’s not a problem at work is it?” 
Wooyoung shakes his head and keeps eating, treating this whole sudden twist of the conversation so casually, “I get looks sometimes, you know, but no it’s not a problem,” 
“Agreed,” You take a bite of your breakfast too, “looks I can deal with,” 
“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says quietly. 
“It’s not your fault,” You shake your head, “but this is why I haven’t really gotten out much. Honestly, I hope you know that it means a lot to me that I felt comfortable enough to call you. Think about that, not the bad stuff,” 
“She’s right,” Wooyoung sips his coffee, “but you know the other thing that just sucks but is true?” 
“Hmm?” You pull your eyes away from Seonghwa to look at him. 
“Alphas will just leave you alone when they know you’re even rumored to be with another alpha,” Wooyoung says, “I haven’t had to deal with any shit in so long and that’s all Sannie and you,” 
“I hate that,” Seonghwa grumbles. 
“It’s true though,” You shrug, and then a thought occurs to you, “wait,” 
They do, glancing between each other as you gather your thoughts. 
“Could you tell I had been with Yunho and Mingi?” You ask, a little afraid of the answer, “if I hadn't told you, would you have known anyways?” 
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Seonghwa says, “I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I couldn’t tell until we were close together during dance practice, and even then it wasn’t like I caught a specific person’s scent, we were never close enough for that. It was more just the feeling that you weren’t…. unscented?” 
“Mm,” You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking it through. 
“Relax,” Wooyoung squeezes your hand, “stressing about things you can’t control isn’t going to make your heat any easier,” 
“I can’t help it,” 
“Here,” Seonghwa pushes back his chair and reaches for you, “come sit with me a second, I can feel you worrying from here,” 
You shift over from your chair and follow the guidance of his hands until you’re settled in his lap. It should feel awkward, but it doesn’t and you don’t really spend any time worrying about that now that you’re wrapped up in an alpha’s warm arms. 
“Now,” Seonghwa’s hand strokes your thigh slowly, “we’re all friends here, right?” 
“Yes?” You twist to catch his eyes. 
“Then I just want you to relax,” He gives you a squeeze, “Woo and I will take care of you for the rest of the weekend, and on Monday or Tuesday when you go back to the studio everything will be fine. Yunho and Mingi will be whatever they are, but that isn’t your worry, that’s theirs.” 
“And us?” You ask softly. 
“We’ll be fine,” He says with ease, “y/n, listen, I don’t know what they said or didn’t say to you but I can guarantee it wasn’t clear.” 
You nod. 
“We’re friends, and Woo I’ll let you speak for yourself, but that’s all I’m interested in being. I’d like to help you this weekend, and then if in the future we end up sleeping together again? That’s fine, but as friends.” Seonghwa is so crystal clear you feel the floor giving under you. This is what you thought you had with Yunho and Mingi all those weeks ago, but in the face of actual clarity you can see how muddled and lost the three of you had been back then. 
“That’s…” You search for the words, “such a relief, honestly,” 
“Good,” Seonghwa smooths his thumb across the gland in your wrist. 
“Me too,” Wooyoung jumps in, “actual no strings attached friend sex is the best kind,” 
“You think so?” You shuffle back a little further onto Seonghwa’s lap. 
“I know so,” Wooyoung says, “actually just being yourself and then not spending fucking days anxiously waiting for a phone call? Yeah, it’s better,” 
“God, this is easier,” You sink back against Seonghwa’s chest and then glance at him, “is this okay?” 
“Yes,” He assures you, wrapping an arm around your middle and holding you to him, “it’s nice, actually.” 
“Does this mean we can spend the rest of the weekend in bed, then?” Wooyoung grins. 
“I guess it does,” You laugh. 
“y/n,” Seonghwa starts from behind you, shifting a little underneath you and you can hear the difference in his voice suddenly at the thought of bed, “are you still hungry?” 
“I don’t think so,” You murmur, deeply aware of the way his hands have started to shift to your hips. 
“I’m still a little hungry,” He confesses, and you watch as he starts to pull up the hem of your t-shirt, “starving actually,” 
“Oh,” You can already feel blush creeping up your cheeks. 
He lifts your shirt more, his hands brushing up and down your stomach gently as he lets you recline onto his chest, and then his fingers creep higher, just barely brushing the underside of your breasts, “Is this okay?” 
“Mhm,” You answer, breathy and tight. 
“Is this?” He lifts the shirt higher, dragging the material up over your bare breasts and drawing your nipples to attention. 
You manage a nod against his shoulder. 
“And this?” His thumb strokes over your nipple directly now. 
“Yes,” You shudder. 
Wooyoung sighs across the room, drawing your attention and you watch as he licks his lips, sliding his hand into his boxer briefs. When his hand starts to bob underneath the fabric you moan softly, gripping down on Seonghwa’s thigh under your hand. 
“Let’s go to bed,” Seonghwa kisses your temple and drops your shirt, “right now,” 
Instantly you’re aching, scrambling off his lap and ready to go wherever he’ll take you just as long as he keeps talking to you like that. 
Wooyoung whines quietly, pulling his hand back, but you’re on the sudden same page of needing to get to a bed and needing to get to one fast. 
Seonghwa pulls you along until you’re in the room again, and Wooyoung shuts the door behind you. Your head starts to get dizzy again with the heat and the warmth of them both, and Seonghwa only makes it worse when he tugs your shirt up over your head and palms your breast, “You’re so soft, jagi,” 
Your mouth runs dry, and once again Wooyoung pulls the tie on your sleep pants and tugs them off you as he kisses your bare shoulder. 
“Look at you,” Seonghwa hums appreciatively, “so very pretty,” 
Your body pulses, the tone of his voice and the warmth bubbling everything back up inside you fast, “Please,” 
“Lie back,” He maneuvers you to the bed, and you follow his instructions. 
Wooyoung eases down next to you, tossing off his own shirt as he does. 
“You’ve been slick all morning,” Seonghwa says as he descends over you, kissing across your jaw and down your neck, “do you know how badly I wanted to just bend you over?”
“F-fuck,” You choke, “alpha, please,” 
He widens your legs with one hand, settling himself lower over you as he teases you with his lips, tongue, teeth, enhancing every little sensation with his words, “You make such pretty sounds, I almost knotted you on the breakfast table,” 
“Oh my god,” Your back arches naturally, pressing yourself into him, “Hwa, oh my god,” 
“Shush,” Seonghwa kisses down your bare chest, nuzzling your sternum as his hand starts to travel from its place near your knee up your inner thigh, creeping dangerously close to your core. 
“He’s good at this,” Wooyoung tells you softly, his fingers ever so gently teasing your pert nipple. 
“Woo,” Seonghwa sighs a breath of hot air across your belly, “leave a little to the imagination, hmm?” 
Wooyoung snorts, “Touchy,” 
Your body is starting to ache, neediness starting to curl open inside you and you huff softly, “I’m going to be touchy in a minute,” 
Seonghwa groans, “Don’t tell me I adopted another brat,” 
“I’m on my b-best behavior,” Your voice catches as his fingers finally part your slick folds, “but I am in heat.” 
“Yes, you are, aren’t you?” Seonghwa nips at your hip bone, his lips traveling to your inner thighs as he sinks to his knees between your splayed knees, “Positively aching,” 
“Oh,” You shiver, two of his fingers finally pushing inside your slick channel. 
“You’re not quite ready for a knot yet though,” He comments softly. 
“I know something that might help with that,” You smile, spreading your legs wider for him. 
“I bet you do,” Seonghwa’s eyebrow quirks, his hand pulling back and thrusting forward in a pulse, his thumb dragging warm circles over your clit. 
The reaction of your body is instantaneous, a quick rush of slick and a dizzy wash of pleasure up your spine as you let your head fall back into Wooyoung’s waiting palm. 
“Told you,” Wooyoung whispers, and he kisses you fast, trapping your laugh between your lips. 
Seonghwa grins, the pace of his hand perfect and sure and you’re already feeling the dizzy sparks of a building orgasm up your spine when the sharp sound of a doorbell brings you all out of it. You and Wooyoung break apart and his brows knit together in confusion, “Who’s here?” 
“No idea,” Seonghwa waits a moment, but then comes a knock. 
You’re shivering, feeling fucked already and you blink hard, wetting your lips and trying to shake off the cloudy feeling inside your brain. 
“Sorry,” Seonghwa gives you a face and slowly pulls his fingers from you, “let me just see what’s going on,” 
“Sure,” You sigh, watching as he jogs to the bathroom to rinse off his hands before getting to the door. 
“Woo,” Your hands reflexively cover yourself, “do you have something I can wear?” 
“Yeah, come here,” He pulls you to a sitting position and crosses the room for the robe hanging on the back of the door, long and dark gray and plush. 
As you wrap yourself up in it, Wooyoung tosses on a pullover and gives you a smile, communicating silently that you should just relax while he and Seonghwa go investigate. 
You flop back against the bedding and sigh, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs together. You should check your phone, you should just suck it up and text Yunho and Mingi back, but before you get up the resolve you hear a new voice from the main room of the apartment. 
“Where have you been?” San. 
“Didn’t you get my voicemail?” Seonghwa asks. 
“I saw you called,” San says, and you pull yourself up from the bed to creep closer to the hall, “but you didn’t answer any of my texts,” 
“Right…” Seonghwa draws out, “because I called?”
“Sannie,” Wooyoung sighs, “we didn’t go missing, we’ve just been,” 
“Is your heat early?” San interrupts suddenly, “why didn’t you call me?” 
You creep around the doorframe just a little more and you smile when you see San cupping Wooyoung’s cheeks, Seonghwa all but rolling his eyes behind him. 
Wooyoung makes an annoyed noise and pushes his sometimes lover’s hands away, “We did call you, now will you listen for two seconds?” 
“If I knew you were in heat I would have come straight over,” San pushes forwards. 
“Well that’s nice,” Wooyoung disentangles himself and keeps an arm’s length between him and his alpha, “but Sannie, I’m not in heat. Not even a little,” 
“But,” San looks confused. 
You step out a little further into the room, arms wrapped around yourself even though the robe drowns you, “He’s not, but I am,” 
San snaps around with a start, “y/n!” 
“Hey, San,” You give him a small wave. 
“I didn’t know you were here,” He says. 
“I was trying to tell you,” Seonghwa laughs, “can’t you tell Wooyoungie’s scent from hers?” 
“Of course he can,” Wooyoung slaps Seonghwa across the arm, “ass.” 
San sputters, falling silent and his eyes narrowing a little at his friend, and it’s clear as crystal what the vibe between the three of them is, even when heat is concerned. 
“Speaking of heat,” Seonghwa meets your eyes from across their little dining room nook table that stands between you, them, and the kitchen, “are you alright? Should you be up?” 
“I’m fine, Hwa,” You assure him with a smile, taking a few more steps forwards and raising your arms as if to show him, “really, this one’s a lot easier.” 
San clears his throat and you can see him divert his eyes from you deliberately, a little blush up his cheeks, “So, this is why you haven’t been answering your phones,” 
“Pretty much,” Wooyoung laughs. 
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” He says, locking eyes with Seonghwa. 
“Sannie,” Seonghwa’s voice softens a little, and he gives him the smallest shake of the head. 
You can feel the disappointment coming off of San in waves, and you can’t quite place the source except to assume that this has always been their thing, not yours. Your mouth feels a little dry as you watch them silently communicate with each other, and you take the second to realize just how much your hips are aching, legs feeling heavy, and your cramps are still deeply uncomfortable no matter how much better they are from last time. Seonghwa edging you really hasn’t helped though, and now you’re starting to feel a little desperate for relief, sweat breaking out along your hairline. 
“It was kind of sudden,” Wooyoung jumps in between the two of them, smoothing over the moment of tension with ease, “right, y/n?” 
You nod, securing the robe around you a little more tightly, “I really…” you start with a breath, “I honestly didn’t mean to intrude on this.” You gesture to the three of them and take a few steps forward. It’s not like you can really offer to leave at this point, but it feels like all you can really say. 
San doesn’t let you feel those nerves for long though, his face clears and he shakes his head, “No, honestly, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way. You’re not intruding, you know that,” 
Your hands rest on the back of one of the dining room chairs as you look between them, “As long as that’s true,” you worry your lip, “I had a hard enough time with Mingi and Yunho… if I ever did anything to hurt my friendship with you, I wouldn’t forgive myself.” 
“Don’t think like that,” Seonghwa assures you, “not with us,” 
“He’s right,” San nods, “I should have just listened to my voicemail,” 
“Good,” You sigh, “that’s good.” 
Wooyoung’s eyes flick over you and then he hums, “Do you want some tea, babe? You look a little pale,” 
You nod immediately, “That would be so perfect,” 
“I’ll get it,” Seonghwa stops Wooyoung as he moves towards the kitchen, “you both rest, I’ll take care of it,” 
Wooyoung grins, “I’m not in heat, I can help,” 
Seonghwa makes a noise and shrugs, “Just let me dote for a minute, would you?” 
Wooyoung laughs sharply in response and the tension dissipates just like that, San’s expression relaxing into an easy smile as he watches the exchange. 
“Thank you, Seonghwa,” You murmur, nudging Wooyoung in the ribs as you do. 
Seonghwa disappears around the corner into the kitchen and you hear the sound of the electric kettle start up, and San finally lets his bag drop to the floor and his shoulders relax as he says, “How are you doing, then?” 
“Good,” You smile, “much better than last time,” 
“Mm,” San nods, “I’m glad to hear it,” 
The silence stretches between you for a moment and then you find yourself asking without a second thought, “Did you go into the studio today?” 
None of you had any set schedules or meetings today, but San is there more days than not regardless of schedule. 
Wooyoung glances to you, knowing exactly what you’re asking but keeps his mouth shut. 
“This morning,” San nods, “I just left a little while ago and I was running some errands before I stopped over,” 
“Ah,” You nod, “how was it?” 
“The studio?” His brows knit together in confusion, “Same as always,” 
“Jesus,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “she’s asking if you saw Yunho and Mingi, if things were weird?” 
“They weren’t in,” San replies, and then things seem to click together, “do they know you’re here?” 
You shake your head, stomach twisting up in knots inside you. 
“Do you not want them to know?” San asks. 
“I… don’t really know,” You confess. 
“Well,” San shrugs, “I didn’t see them, but if I do see them later, I won’t mention you. You can decide what you want them to know and when.” 
“Thank you, San,” You murmur. 
The knotting nervousness in your stomach doubles at the thought that they didn’t go into work today, even just a little in the morning when you know they almost always do. Where were they? Were they looking for you? Wondering about you? Thinking of you? You picture Mingi at your apartment door, trying to explain to your roommates who he is and what he’s doing there and finding out that instead of being able to swoop in and take care of you… you’re gone. 
A cramp lights up your back and your hand flies to your stomach as you double over, jaw locked down tight at the sudden wave of discomfort. 
“Hey, easy, easy,” San has an arm around you instantly, holding you upright and supporting you better than the chair could, “you’re okay,” 
Your head rocks to the side, resting on his chest and you take a deep, necessary breath against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. He smells floral, the thought strikes you suddenly and starkly, more heady than most other alphas scents and you take another breath to let the scent of him wash over you. Jasmine hits you first, its sharp musk making you a little dizzy until you catch the underlying warmth of sandalwood. Your body relaxes into him naturally and he chuckles as he feels your trembling muscles unclench under his hands. 
“San,” You murmur into his chest, the sound muffled. 
“Hmm?” 
“Can you help me to the couch?” You lean into him. 
“Mhm,” He shifts and suddenly you’re in his arms entirely, “let’s sit,” 
“Hyung, how’s that tea?” Wooyoung calls into the kitchen, and you feel his soft hand coast down the length of your arm as he shifts past you and San to try and help. 
“Almost,” Seonghwa calls back, “she okay?” 
“I’m fine,” You tell the room, “it’s just a cramp,” 
“Here we go,” San says softly as he settles you down on the couch, “let me help,” 
He shifts to sit behind you, his hands finding your lower back and he presses into your aching spine with his thumbs, kneading and massaging perfect circles into your body. You sigh, the overwhelming relief flooding you as he helps take away the immediate sharp soreness of your hips. What your body needs is a knot, but this combined with the warm scents of both alphas is a start. 
Seonghwa returns a moment later, a mug of bright red tea in hand and he maneuvers the warm cup into your waiting fingers. 
“What’s this?” You ask, dipping your head to smell the steaming liquid. 
“Raspberry leaf,” He replies. 
“Don’t you drink this for your heat?” Wooyoung flops onto the other couch that faces yours and quirks an eyebrow. 
“Should I be?” You let the warm berry scent pass through you, the cup warming your chilly hands. 
“Yes?” Wooyoung shakes his head, looking almost appalled, “it really helps regulate your hormones, helps with intensity spikes, is an anti-inflammatory, and promotes fertility.” 
“Fertility isn’t really the goal here, Woo,” You snort. 
“It is if it means your cycle is easier to deal with,” He dismisses, “you’re now on a Wooyoung prescribed two cups a day,” 
“Fine, fine,” You take a gentle sip, testing the heat, “but I’m not drinking this because of your speech I’m drinking it because it smells good,” 
“Whatever you say, babe,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to drink up. 
San continues gently kneading your back as you take your first proper sip of the tea and Seonghwa settles on the sofa next to you. He brushes your hair back softly with his hand and gives you a smile, “After this, let’s get you back to bed,” 
You nod into your cup, “I’d like that,” 
“Do you normally spend your heats alone?” San asks, his hands slowing but still not lifting off your body, now just resting on your lower hips. 
“Usually,” You take another sip. 
“I could never,” Wooyoung grimaces, “that’s not fun, that’s just torture,” 
“Heat isn’t really fun,” You laugh, “it’s just a thing.” 
“You seemed to have a good time with Yunho and Mingi,” Wooyoung wags his eyebrows. 
“Yeah, well, we all know how that one turned out,” You grimace. 
“Relax,” Seonghwa smooths a hand over your knee through the fabric of the robe, “Youngie, leave her be.” 
“Didn’t you ever want help?” San asks. 
You chew the inside of your lip, “I guess, but my heats off suppressants are really intense and on them… I mean, usually I can handle it, so I handle it,” 
“You’re a strong person,” San comments softly, giving your hip a squeeze as he shifts to start massaging your back again. 
You almost muster a reply, but Wooyoung takes the attention of the room again with a groan, “I couldn’t do that, I tried once and it was awful,” 
“What are your heats like, anyways?” You ask, leaning a little on Seonghwa’s shoulder as San keeps working your tired muscles. 
“Oh, he’s the worst,” Seonghwa smiles, “constant begging the minute he starts slicking up,” 
“Oh shut up,” Wooyoung grumbles. 
“I’m just telling the truth,” Seonghwa laughs. 
Another light cramp pulses through you and you exhale softly, taking another sip of tea. San’s hands pause, and he leans around you to watch your face, but Seonghwa and Wooyoung keep on bickering. 
“Should I tell y/n how we found you last time you went into heat?” Seonghwa grins. 
“I’ll literally kill you, Hwa,” Wooyoung tosses a pillow hard and it collides with Seonghwa’s chest. 
“Not a very nice way to treat your alpha,” Seonghwa replies, his hand leaving your knee as he goes to toss the pillow back. 
“Maybe you’ll have to punish me later,” Wooyoung slaps the flying pillow out of the air so it lands smoothly back on the couch and gives Seonghwa a flirty smile, tongue against his teeth. 
“Maybe I will,” 
Your stomach locks up, core pulsing lightly and you suddenly feel stifled in the room, hot and cold all at the same time. You make a soft, tense noise and the cup in your fingers tips to the side, losing some of the tea as you try to recover it.
  “Shh,” San plucks the cup from your hands and sets it on the table, curling around to your side, “it’s alright,” 
“Ow,” You manage, pressing a palm down over your stomach. 
San smooths his hand along yours and catches your eyes, “You’re alright, omega,” 
Something inside you melts and he gently strokes the gland in your neck with his opposite hand, nodding as you start to relax from the immediate surge of pain and arousal. 
“Jagiya,” Seonghwa strokes your skin, “let’s go to bed,” 
“Please,” your eyes flutter shut. 
“Then I should go,” San clears his throat, his hands starting to lift away from you, “I’ll leave you three to,”
You don’t know what possesses you, but you reach for him the minute his skin leaves yours, eyes flying open as you grab his hands and shake your head, “Don’t go,” 
His eyes blow wide, “y/n,” 
“Why not?” You glance at Wooyoung and Seonghwa, a little panicked now that the trajectory of this is uncertain, but all you know is that you’d like him to stay. You squeeze San’s hands, “You’re here, we’re all here, I mean… why not stay?” 
His eyes flick past you to Seonghwa, holding a question you don’t understand. 
“If you don’t want to,” The words leave you in a rush, at the sinking realization that he may not want any of this. 
San looks back to you in a flash, “It’s not that,” 
Relief blooms inside you, “It’s not?” 
“Not at all,” He smooths down your hair and tries to ease you, “but are you sure?” 
“Sure,” You nod, “really,” 
His eyes flick over you, and you can feel him considering his next move, but then he nods. 
You end up right back where you were when the doorbell rang twenty minutes ago, only this time you have San on your right while Wooyoung teases you on your left and Seonghwa rests between your thighs. Distantly in the back of your brain, the part that’s still rational and sarcastic, you wonder if your brain is broken now and your omega needs two alphas to feel sated. 
“I won’t make you wait,” Seonghwa suddenly says, sinking down and attaching his mouth to your aching sex without any further preamble, and it pulls you sharply out of your own thoughts. 
“Oh, fuck,” You groan, your hips jerking at the sudden spark of sensation. 
“So sensitive,” Seonghwa hums appreciatively, locating your clit with the hardened tip of his tongue and flicking it firmly. 
You mutter something, head already fogging up, and San brushes his fingers along your arm, “Can I touch you, omega?” He murmurs, his voice thickening, getting huskier. 
You nod fast, holding his gaze to let him know he’s allowed and he shifts to press lazy kisses along your chest as he watches the other alpha between your thighs. 
For all of Wooyoung’s jokes before, he’s fallen silent now. His eyes are blown wide as he watches the way both alphas touch you, and you can tell he’s torn between helping you along and helping himself. 
“Let’s get you ready for that knot, hmm?” Seonghwa kisses your mound, and you feel his fingers stroking your entrance, pushing in just slightly and then retracting to tease your body just right and let all your internal muscles unlock. 
Inside you, your omega feels like it’s finally waking. Your heat that’s been bubbling all day against the medicated ceiling of your suppressants feels like a pressure cooker now, ready to burst and leave you desperate with want. Seonghwa’s tongue returns to your swollen bud and San’s lips find your nipple, and you feel the hot wave ripple through you, “A-alpha,” 
“Right here, darling,” Seonghwa croons, thrusting two fingers deep inside you and drawing a tight moan from your lips. 
“Alpha,” You stammer, “I need it,” 
“Mhm,” 
San sighs pleasantly against your sweat slick skin, his hand stroking along your side and Seonghwa doubles his efforts, thrusting his fingers in earnest now and sucking hard on your clit. Hot pleasure strikes up your spine and you moan, head back and your eyes slipping closed as you let the feeling of their hands on you make you dizzy and wet. 
“Right there,” You pant, “alpha, y-yes, yes,” 
He hums against you and you scramble in the sheets, gripping down on Wooyoung’s forearm. 
“Woo,” San’s voice enters the mix but you barely register, the orgasm in front of you so quickly approaching that you need to reach it and reach it now. 
Wooyoung shifts next to you, and Seonghwa pulls back from you for a split second to catch his breath before the sensation in your brain pops apart like a firecracker. Seonghwa licks a deep stripe over your slit, and then secures his lips around your clit once more, alternating sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue. The air in the room tightens when San delivers a sharp lick to your pebbled nipple and then Wooyoung follows suit on your other side. 
“Oh, god,” Your eyes press closed tightly and you grip the back of San’s shirt in your desperate squirming, “I’m,” 
“Come on, baby,” Wooyoung encourages, rolling his tongue over you again, “you’re so close,”
You whine sharply, hips canting, “Please, please,” 
Seonghwa’s hands on your hips tighten, and he doesn’t change pace or pressure or anything at all, he just doesn’t stop. The bubble threatening to burst inside your belly feels hot and full and then with a rush, it pops and you shudder open into your first real heat addled orgasm. 
“Good, good,” Seonghwa’s fingers start to slow and you whine sharply. 
Wooyoung pulls off your breast with a little gasp, his face flushed pink and he meets your eyes as you start to crest upwards into another wave, but as Seonghwa’s hand slows so does the approach of what could be and you whimper, thighs quivering. 
“Oh,” Wooyoung pouts a little at you, sympathetic and understanding and he hushes you, “I got you,” 
You want more, and you know it needs to end in a knot for your body to register everything right, but in this split second you need Wooyoung more. You nod, frantic and close to tears, “Please,” 
He pushes back from you quick, rocking over the side of the bed and suddenly he’s got his hands on Seonghwa, pushing him away, “Shove over,” 
“W-what?” Seonghwa seems startled by the sudden directness of the omega and San lifts his head to see what’s happening at the sharp tone of his voice. 
“Just move,” Wooyoung drops to his knees and dips his arms under your thighs until your legs are swung up over his shoulders and he’s tugging you down the bed to move you into position. You squeak when he drags you down the bed and San laughs above you. 
“I’ve never seen you so assertive, Youngie,” He comments. 
“Shut up,” Wooyoung bites back, “she’s not done,” 
“Please, God,” Your hips jerk, angling for him to touch you, you can feel your pleasure slipping and you need him to catch it before it’s gone. 
“Not God, babe,” Wooyoung nips your thigh with his teeth and you jerk again in his hands, “but I’ll do my best,” 
“So cocky,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes, stepping back to hand over control. 
“I’ll show you how it’s done, alpha,” Wooyoung shoots him an even cockier grin, tongue against teeth, and you’re about to say something more but then he’s on you. 
Wooyoung treats your cunt like he knows every inch of it, like he’s done this for you specifically a thousand times before. Without ever asking he knows the pace you like, the way you need something inside you just to feel the weight of it, the way your mind spins when he reaches around and lays a hand over belly. 
“I can’t, oh God, oh fuck,” You scramble but he holds you steady.
  He hums warmly against you, picking up the pace of his sucks on your swollen bundle of nerves and when he feels your legs start to shake in earnest he presses up with two fingers inside you and presses down with the heel of his hand over your lower stomach. You were close before, off the back of your orgasm from Seonghwa’s tongue, but this is something else entirely and your vision whites out as your back arches. One hand fists the sheets, the other gripping down over Wooyoung’s and you can barely hear the noises you’re making but you know they must be feral. 
When he’s sure you’re coming through it, no longer seeking drawn out stimulation but instead pulling your hips back and away from his sharp tongue, he lifts away just enough to give your aching clit some relief from overstimulation. 
“You do taste like honey,” Is the first thing he says, his breath hot against your cunt as he stays between your thighs, recovering from his own lack of oxygen. 
Your body is starting to relax from the tense muscle lock up of your orgasm, and slowly your eyes start to open. 
“Holy shit,” Seonghwa breathes and your eyes flick to him. His eyes are dark, studying you both and you can see the hard line of his erection straining against his trousers. 
San brushes your sweat slick hair back from your forehead and smiles down at you, “Doing okay?” 
Words feel slow to your lips but you nod, “Mhm,” 
Wooyoung makes a little huff between your thighs and you glance down, seeing how close Seonghwa has stepped again, his fingers running through the omega’s hair. Seonghwa hums appreciatively, caressing Wooyoung as he leans against your inner thigh, “Good boy,”
Wooyoung preens, you can see the sudden warmth flooding him at the praise. 
“A very good boy,” Seonghwa croons again, “taking such good care of our pretty new omega,” 
“Thank you, alpha,” Wooyoung nuzzles into Seonghwa’s palm and for a second it feels like you’re watching something too intimate, but then he pushes back from you and drops your legs off his shoulders, “I hope you took notes,” 
Seonghwa sighs and delivers a fast, friendly smack to the back of Wooyoung’s head, their brief moment of heat dissipating with Wooyoung’s easy teasing. But Seonghwa softens again the moment he turns his attention to you, his hands gentle on your sides as he settles close, “You still in there, darling?” 
“Kind of,” You admit, still hazy, “I can’t feel my legs,” 
“Sounds about right,” San laughs as Wooyoung collapses into his side, and San swings an arm over his shoulders to let him snuggle closer.
  “You still haven’t been knotted,” Seonghwa notes softly, stroking your skin, “how are you feeling?” 
The idea of a knot sends a thrill through you, but your body feels sluggish, “Dizzy,” 
He hums softly, the tone empathetic and warm. 
“I need a few minutes,” You tell him honestly.
“Of course,” He soothes, “we’re here for you, you set the pace.” 
“That was just a lot,” 
Wooyoung grins and you roll your eyes at him. 
“It’s a marathon, not a race,” San notes. 
“I’ll just touch you a little,” Seonghwa relaxes next to you, running his fingers up and down your thigh, “you tell me when you want more,” 
“Okay,” Your voice is thready as he dips his hand between your thighs. 
“You two look good together,” San appraises, reaching across the bed to feel your skin, gentle strokes and and down your arm. 
“Do we?” You laugh a little, but something is starting to thrum again in the back of your brain. 
“Mm,” San’s hand moves a little further, cupping your breast and kneading it slowly, “a little too good,”
Seonghwa’s fingers explore you lazily, running up the soft, plush skin of your cunt but never quite getting close enough to properly tease your slit or your aching bud. He sighs pleasantly as he watches your nipples harden into peaks, “Don’t be jealous Sannie,” 
San huffs softly, and then he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to your chest, “y/n,” he murmurs, “is this alright?” 
You twitch under them, “Y-yes,” 
“She’s a puddle,” Wooyoung jokes as he catches sight of your hazy look, “are my alphas making you feel so, so good, omega?” 
Your hips jerk and Seonghwa lays his hand over your thighs to steady you. 
“More,” You nod, resting one hand on the back of San’s neck, fingertips sinking into his hair as you push his head towards your breast. 
“Like this?” He murmurs against your skin, flattening his tongue over your nipple once to lick it firmly before he closes his plush lips around it and sucks.
Heat spikes up your spine and you nod, “Yes, like that,” 
The sound of a belt buckle draws your eyes back up to Seonghwa and you watch him disrobe entirely, dropping his trousers and kicking off his boxers. 
“Let’s just take it slow,” Seonghwa eases your legs open, and you tilt your hips back to shift yourself into position and give him the access he needs, “sound good?” 
Despite the way you’re starting to ache, you nod and relax back into the sheets, cupping San to your chest as he lavishes your nipple. 
“Pretty,” Seonghwa hums as he slides his hands up the back of your thighs and deepens your position. 
It’s exposing and raw, but at the same time you know exactly how much this is lighting up the deep part of your brain that needs this, so you just let yourself go. 
“Nice and wet,” He smiles, this time dragging two fingers down your slit, rocking the slick pad of his middle finger over your swollen bundle of nerves. 
You gasp a little, shaking in his grip. 
“Isn’t she pretty, Sannie?” He says, glancing at the other alpha. 
“Mhm,” San sighs, lifting up with a little pop so he can take you both in. He relaxes back against Wooyoung and when you twist your head to the side you see the hungry darkness in San’s gaze. Wooyoung’s eyes flick over you, a subtle smile on his lips, and then he tucks himself close behind San and starts to work a hand into the alpha’s sweats. 
You hiss sharply when you feel something heavier drop over your slit and you jerk back to Seonghwa, his hard cock now nestled between your folds as he teases your clit lazily with the head. 
“You want alpha’s cock, pretty girl?” Seonghwa says, rocking his hips to drag his length over your seam. 
“Please,” You nod, fingers tight in the sheets. 
“Where?” He teases. 
“Hwa,” 
“Here?” He presses the tip of his cock against your slick hole and then stops completely. 
“Yes, yes,” You shiver, “please,” 
He slides away with a smirk. 
“Where?” He asks again, and you realize he wants to hear you say it. 
Wooyoung chuckles softly next to you, and you hear San sigh, the distinct slow sound of swishing fabric as Wooyoung works his hand over San’s cock. It feels a little thrilling to have an audience, it’s making your hazy brain even needier and wanton and you jerk your hips against Seonghwa’s cock to try and get him to move the right way. 
Seonghwa shakes his head, “Where?” 
Your back aches, a cramp in your core, and you huff, a little flustered, “Inside,” 
“Inside where?” Seonghwa tuts.
You swallow hard, reaching down between your legs. With gentle fingers you run your fingers along his shaft, watching his face for every little reaction. His jaw jumps as you swirl your fingers over the velvet head of his cock and you repeat the motion, again and again to get a harder reaction from him. 
You’re watching each other intently, waiting to see who will fall apart first. When he sighs once, soft and breathy, you angle your hips back just a little and push down on his cock, directing him inside your aching channel and sinking him an inch or two inside you. 
“Ah, ah,” He scolds, catching your wrist and locking you both still, “just say where you want me, omega,” 
“Inside,” You insist, voice breaking a little as a flush lights up your chest, “alpha, please,” 
“Just tell me,” He pleads, dropping his thumb over your clit, “it’s easy, darling, it’s just words,” 
You wet your lips and reach up for him, fingertips skimming over his arm, “Hwa,” you murmur, blush lighting up your cheeks, “I want you inside me, please, in my pussy,” 
He smiles and then rocks forward, pushing inside you to the hilt in one fluid motion, “Good omega,” 
The sensation of him filling you so fast and so suddenly has your body arching up against the sheets and your head falling back, your eyes shutting tightly as you moan, “Oh, fuck,” 
“Damn,” Wooyoung murmurs, but you ignore him. 
“Does that feel good, omega?” Seonghwa leans down over you, holding you tightly with a hand anchored to the back of your thigh just below the knee, holding you open wide for him. 
You whine tightly as he rocks inside you, the curled angle driving the head of his cock over your sweet spot again and again, the firm plane of his pubic bone pressing rhythmically against your clit. You feel dizzy from the sensation, but then you feel something low and needy in your gut. 
“Knot,” You stammer out, gripping down on any part of Seonghwa you can hold. 
“Is that what you want?” He smiles, rolling his hips. 
“Alpha, please,” You pant, “knot me,” 
He thrusts forward hard, holding himself tightly inside you and he shakes his head, “Ask nicely,” 
A shudder runs up your spine and you think it’s entirely possible that Wooyoung isn’t really that much of a brat, Seonghwa just likes it when the omegas under him whine. You rock your hips and beg him to keep moving inside you with your body, but he shakes his head again. He wants to hear you. 
“Alpha,” You pant, dropping your voice a bit and tapping into that deep coursing need running through you, “please knot me, please,” 
“Good girl,” He sighs, moving his hips again.
“Please,” Your head lolls back as he starts to thrust again in earnest. 
“I’ll keep you on my knot all night,” He chokes, finally starting to lose himself a little, the base of his cock starting to swell. 
“Yes, yes,” 
“Beg,” He thrusts hard, knocking your hips together, “beg me to fucking knot you,” 
Your mind tunnels, nothing but you and Seonghwa working together now and when you answer him it feels almost like another person, “Alpha, please, please, I’m so empty,” 
“Fuck,” He pants. 
“Please, fill me up,” You moan, nails digging into his arms.
“Mine,” He drops lower over you, pulling your head back by your hair and attaching his lips to your throat, “isn’t that right, pretty thing?” 
“Oh,” Your body is locking up around his cock suddenly as the dam breaks, “oh, fuck Hwa, don’t stop,” 
He shakes his head against you and keeps thrusting, panting into your hair. With a groan he shudders, locking his hips forwards and you feel the swell of his knot push past your entrance and expand. “Fuck, that’s it,” He grinds his hips against yours, and then you feel him release hot and wet and filling inside you. Pleasure washes back over you and you jut your hips against his just to feel another sweeping wave, your body disconnecting deliciously as he comes inside you. 
Your brain reconnects slowly. First you register the weight of him above you, pressing down into you with his cock still buried inside your heat. Then his soft fingers in your hair, his lips on your cheek. 
His knot is already softening and you sigh, reaching up for him and running your fingers through his black hair as you catch your breath and reopen your eyes. 
“Hey,” He murmurs down at you, “okay?” 
“Mhm,” You smile lazily, “you?” 
“Excellent,” He laughs, dropping one more kiss to your cheek. 
“I’ll say,” Wooyoung clears his throat and you blush scarlet, you had forgotten how close they were, how present they were. 
You cover your face with your hands and groan.
“You’re fun when you let loose,” Wooyoung prods your shoulder to get your attention, “I never would have pegged you for so much dirty talk,” 
“Oh my god,” You sigh, twisting to look at him, “will you please shut up?” 
“I’m just saying,” He shrugs and you’re trying to come up with a clever retort but then you feel Seonghwa start to pull himself free and you realize a few things at once. 
Where Wooyoung is looking at you and Seonghwa together, San hasn’t glanced at you once. His eyes are glued to Seonghwa, running over his sweat-slick body, his lips parted and his muscles locked up tight. He’s not in a rut, you know that clearly, but his expression and his eyes remind you of a rut, singularly focused and serious. 
Seonghwa notices it a moment later as he slides off the bed and you watch him smile, “Like something you see Sannie?” 
Wooyoung rolls his eyes and scoots a little closer to you on the bed and then San moves, quick like a flash. He secures a hand around Seonghwa’s wrist and tugs him down fast to land on top of him and then he kisses the other alpha so hard they both make a surprised hiss of pleasure. 
“San, what,” Seonghwa manages, but San won’t let him be. His lips are hungry, his body hungrier still, dragging the man closer and closer and slotting their hips together as their mouths work together. 
San breaks the kiss first, rolling to the side and effectively trapping Seonghwa beneath him, “I need you right now,” 
“Oh,” Seonghwa shudders, his cock starting to stiffen again. 
Wooyoung moves closer to you, giving them some much needed space and giving you the post-coital cuddles you really need. He tugs a blanket up over your bodies and spoons you, settling in like you’re about to watch a show together.
“Don’t mind them,” Wooyoung murmurs into your ear, “they get like this,” 
You open your mouth but Seonghwa moans sharply as San kisses down his neck, letting his tongue drag over the other alpha’s gland and nipping his collarbone. 
“Turn over,” San says, manhandling Seonghwa into a better position before pushing down his own pants just enough to free his cock. 
They’re nothing but need, clawing at each other just to feel skin against skin and it’s clear that they’ve done this a thousand times before, so intimately familiar with each other’s bodies. You can hear their breath, their every move against the sheets, and it feels like you’ve been given a view into something too intimate, too real. 
“Woo,” You murmur quietly, “should we…” 
He hesitates, almost unable to tear his eyes away but then he nods, “Shower?” 
“Mhm,” 
Wooyoung slips out of bed behind you as San drags Seonghwa’s head to the side and reaches into Wooyoung’s nightstand for the lube. 
“San,” Seonghwa whines in a tone you’ve never in your life heard from the alpha, “please, fucking please,” 
“Shh,” San brushes a hand down his lover’s back and then uncaps the lubricant in his hands, “I’ve got you jagiya,” 
Your lips part in awe as you watch them, stunned at the way they look together, move together. You only snap out of it when Wooyoung taps your side, and you slide quietly out of the bed too, focused on not disturbing the couple beside you. You follow Wooyoung to the connected bathroom, but you keep watching them all the while. 
Seonghwa groans when San thrusts his hips forward hard, pushing himself inside and you shiver at the image, your own body responding at the sight. San runs a hand through his hair before squeezing Seonghwa’s hips, silently letting him know that he’s about to move. As he does, rocking his hips in slow steady thrusts, he runs his hand reverently along Seonghwa’s skin, finding his hand in the sheets and twining their fingers together. 
“I missed you so much,” San says lowly, pressing a kiss between Seonghwa’s shoulders. 
Seonghwa makes another noise, almost a sob as he nods into the bedding, gripping down on the alpha’s hand harder. 
Even with the knotting you just experienced, the sight of them together is enough to light a flushing warmth back through your body and make you want again. 
“y/n,” Wooyoung finally catches your attention and you pull yourself away from the doorway and into the bathroom. 
In the shower, you and Wooyoung stick close together, and the sounds from the other room still make it through the door despite the drone of the water. You gravitate towards each other easily, wanting to feel the comfort of each other’s bodies in the warmth of the spray. You kiss until your jaw aches, and make each other come one more time despite the water turning tepid halfway through. 
When you’re done and the water is off, you wrap yourselves in fluffy blue towels and listen closely to see if San and Seonghwa are finished. 
As you lean against the sink, Wooyoung gently drags a brush through your wet hair to detangle it from the shower and you finally ask the question that’s been brewing in the back of your mind, “Woo,” you murmur, keeping your voice low to ensure the alphas in the adjacent room can’t hear you, “why aren’t they together?” 
Relationships between the same designation are rare but certainly not unheard of, especially in polyamorous relationships, and it’s plain as day to you now how much they connect and care about one another.
Wooyoung meets your eyes in the mirror and shrugs, his mouth downturned, “You’d have to ask them,” 
“You don’t know?” Your eyebrows shoot high. 
He shakes his head, “I learned not to push that one a long time ago,” 
You chew the inside of your lip, mulling it over. Your conversation with San all those weeks ago when he walked you home flicks through your mind and you remember the way that he brushed right past the topic the minute you started to press. You had assumed the person he was referring to was Wooyoung, they’re always so tactile with one another, but the longer you spend with them behind closed doors the more you realize that is just how Wooyoung communicates, with touch. Now the little moments of tension you spotted between San and Seonghwa make so much more sense. 
Wooyoung finishes brushing out your hair and puts the brush back on the sink, “What’s that face for?” 
You smooth out your expression and recover, “Sorry,” 
“What?” He prompts you. 
“What about you?” You ask softly. 
“I love them, they’re my best friends,” He says with ease. 
“Okay,” You hold his gaze in the mirror. 
He wraps his arms around you and shakes his head, “It works for us,” He says, “and if they’re not ready to admit how they feel to themselves, then that’s up to them and they can have whatever this is,” 
“As long as you’re not caught in the middle,” You press a kiss to his forearm. 
“Not with them,” He assures you. 
The sound of laughter from the next room draws your attention and Wooyoung smiles, “Let’s go, don’t worry about this,” he says and you nod, staying bundled up in your towel as you follow him into the next room. 
San and Seonghwa are cuddled tightly together, trading soft and quiet kisses, but when they hear you both coming back in you watch San straighten up a little and look towards the two of you. They look so good together, so natural, relaxing against each other in the sheets looking far more at peace than you’ve ever seen them. 
“Sorry about that,” He clears his throat softly. 
“Don’t be sorry,” You shake your head. 
“We’re supposed to be taking care of you,” He smiles, “I just got a little carried away,”
Seonghwa blushes, dipping his face into the pillow below him and you grin, “I’m actually doing fine, don’t worry about me.” 
“Can we come back in?” Wooyoung asks as he climbs onto the bed, reaching back for your hand. 
“Of course,” Seonghwa pushes San back towards the other edge of the bed and he lifts the duvet, “it’s your nest not ours, please,” 
Something inside you feels a little soft, like warm melted butter at the idea of a full nest and you feel your tense shoulders relax. Wooyoung maneuvers you into the center, snuggled up between him and Seonghwa, but San reaches across and soon you’re sinking into all three of their touches. 
“You want to try and sleep?” San asks softly. 
“We probably should,” You nod. 
Seonghwa finds the tender gland in your neck and strokes it gently, “We’ll be right here when you wake up,” 
You shift closer, resting your cheek on his chest and you nod, “I know you will,”
“Good,” He sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
Held like this it’s easy to drift off so you do. 
When you wake again it’s to the sounds of rustling sheets, but not someone getting up and out of bed, it’s the clear sound of rocking. Whoever it is sounds close, pleasured little pants and moans, and you can feel your stomach knotting up and just the sounds of sex in the room so close to you. 
There’s a warm body behind you, just coconing you in, but it’s different than how you fell asleep. The body behind you is broader, warmer, and you realize after a moment of hazy waking that it’s San cuddled up to your back and spooning you, not Wooyoung. You slept hard though, and you’re not really surprised that everyone shifting around didn’t wake you even though the bed isn’t really large enough for the four of you. You’re all making it work and you’d be lying if you said the close proximity of them and their scents wasn’t keeping you calmer than any heat you’ve had before. 
Your face is tucked into a pillow, and you don’t exactly want to alert the room that you’re awake, but you’re starting to feel uncomfortably hot again and you can feel yourself itching out of your skin, desperate to just slip a hand between your thighs and relieve the growing tension. 
Someone, Wooyoung you gather, moans quietly next to you. 
“So needy,” Seonghwa whispers, “and you’re not even in heat,” 
Wooyoung makes another shuddering noise, and the bed moves next to you a little faster. 
You feel it when San’s hand on your hip tightens, his breath warm behind you, and then there’s the telltale sensation of his cock growing hard against your backside. Your eyes flutter open, your hands gripping the bedding beneath you. 
San swallows tightly and drops his lips to your ear, “You awake?” 
You nod, lifting your head a little. 
Seonghwa and Wooyoung are tangled together inches from you, and the groan that leaves you at the sight of them is sudden and sharp, a cramp lighting up inside you. 
Seonghwa’s head snaps to the side at the sound and his brows knit together, “Omega?” 
Your muscles clench, slick rushing forth, “Oh, god,” 
Wooyoung whines, his fingers digging into Seonghwa’s shoulders, “Stay with me, Hwa,” 
“I’m sorry, baby,” Seonghwa shifts to tend to the omega in his lap, “I’m right here,” 
“y/n?” San’s lips press closer to your ear, “let me help,” 
You relax into his chest immediately, your legs parting, body practically purring the moment his hand smooths over your hip to press between your legs. 
“We have an audience, baby,” Seonghwa murmurs, pulling Wooyoung down to his mouth and kissing him soundly. 
Wooyoung moans, desperate and shaky, his hips starting to move again beneath the comforter as he and Seonghwa rock against each other. 
“You do like that, don’t you,” Seonghwa teases him, his fingers tracing a line up Wooyoung’s chest and circling his pebbled nipple. 
“Jesus,” Wooyoung stammers, “fuck,” 
You can’t tear your eyes away, you’re glued to them and the way their bodies move together, but you gasp sharply as San brushes his fingertips gently over your clit and starts to explore you.
  “More,” You beg softly, “please, Sannie,”
If it's at all possible, his cock gets stiffer against your backside. 
“Is my pretty boy going to come?” Seonghwa hums at Wooyoung, nipping at his lip and placing wet kisses across his jaw. 
“I need it,” He chokes out in reply. 
San pushes a finger inside you, but with the way you’re dripping and aching for a knot it’s nowhere near enough and you shake your head, “Alpha, please,” 
“Shh, shh,” He soothes, pulling back his hand entirely, “hold on, jagi,” 
He rifles around behind you, and you hear the sound of a drawer opening and closing. He’s fiddling with something behind you but you can’t turn around, you just need to let him take care of things. Your body is too flushed with warmth and slick with sweat to comprehend anything but the deep need inside you to feel what Wooyoung is feeling, and every second that you watch them makes your need hungrier. 
“Here we go,” San wraps an arm around you, and you see a flash of something pink and blue in his hands but you don’t make sense of it until he hikes up your leg to open you up wide and you feel something hard push at the entrance of your cunt. 
“What,” You start to say but then he angles the toy upwards and sinks the first few inches of the thick dildo inside you. 
“Just relax,” He eases you, “watch them,”
A moment ago you would have said you needed a real cock, that no knotting dildo would do, but with the way San is wrapped around you it doesn’t seem to matter. The heat from his body sinks into yours, blooming jasmine everywhere as his breath passes over you, staccatoed pants with every sharp flex of his arm to fuck you deeper. 
In front of you, Seonghwa and Wooyoung have gotten closer, their faces tucked close to one another as Wooyoung chokes out another moan. You watch the red blush creep up his chest, his back, his cheeks, flushing him deliciously as his body starts to tremble in earnest. 
“Come, baby,” Seonghwa kisses his ear, “don’t stop,” 
Wooyoung groans, muttering something into Seonghwa’s collarbone and he smiles in response, petting Wooyoung’s hair and dropping his lips to Wooyoung’s aching throat. Your body locks up, the sight too much for your heat-addled brain. 
“Deeper,” You plead, “harder,” 
San nods against your shoulder, “Good, omega,”
A throbbing pulses through your body, and he pushes the dildo in deeper, the knot at the base catching on your slick hole as he works the toy faster and harder. You look down between your legs, at the way his muscular arm arcs over your belly and at how fast his hand works the silicone cock inside you, and all you can do is moan and grip down on the bedding once more. 
“I’m, I’m,” Wooyoung pants and you look back up, “fuck, I’m coming,” 
Seonghwa sucks at Wooyoung’s pulse, teasing his mating gland and scenting him and you watch Wooyoung’s eyes roll back, his body locking up in absolute pleasure as his orgasm collides into him. He ruts himself against Seonghwa blindly, aching and whimpering until his hips slow and he slips down against the alpha to rest on his chest. 
“Baby,” Seonghwa strokes his lover’s back, “you’re so good,” 
The praise, even when not directed at you, sends a spark of needy pleasure through your body and you grip down on San’s arm, “Please,” 
He shifts you both suddenly, wrapping you tightly in his arms and rolling you so that you’re laid out on top of him, your back to his chest and your body folding open and prone like a fresh flower. Once you’re settled there he returns to working the toy in and out of your fluttering walls, but this time he takes his opposite hand and finds your clit, setting a quick rhythm against your bud to stimulate you fast. 
“G-God, oh god,” You grip down on the sheets, letting him control you. 
“Good omegas come,” San all but growls in your ear, “are you good, jagi?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Your brain is fogging up, things feeling hot and cold at the same time, “knot me,” 
“Come,” 
“Knot, please, alpha,” You manage, and even though you feel the pressure dropping low in your belly, the only thing that will get you over the edge of pleasure is his knot. 
“You want to be filled?” He pumps the toy sharply. 
“Yes!” You clamp your eyes down tight, holding on. 
His fingers slip off your clit, hand reaching for something in the bedding and you start to whine but then he does it. With one full thrust the knot of the toy pushes up inside you and activates the primal part of your brain that had been lying so dormant. You’re flustered and coming hard so suddenly, but he continues to rock and grind the toy to catch against your clit and leave your body fluttering over into orgasm. 
“Yes, oh, oh, fuck,” You babble, and then you feel something more. The sensation of a cock spilling inside you is so distinctive, so real, and you blink your eyes open with a gasp as the sensation heightens your orgasm into another rolling wave. 
When it all slows down, you can barely breathe.
San leaves the toy inside you, one hand on your hip and the other slowly stroking your belly. 
“y/n,” Seonghwa’s voice is warm and close, fingertips coasting along your cheek, “are you alright?” 
“I’m so good,” You sigh, an overwhelming urge to snuggle into a cuddle pile and never leave it, “I’m perfect,” 
“Not too rough?” San checks as he starts to push himself up a little. 
You shake your head against his chest, your hands finally unlocking from the sheets. 
“Alright,” He reaches between your legs and gently takes the toy, “relax, let me help with this,” 
Knotting dildos, while an incredible substitute during heat, lack one feature most of the time. Where a real alpha’s knot would deflate and easily allow you to uncouple, knotting dildos like this one are just solid silicone. You let him ease the toy out of your channel, going slow and keeping you calm with his warm scent. When it pops free you fall back with a sigh, ignoring the sudden rush of artificial cum out of you. 
“I’ll get a towel,” Wooyoung murmurs, and when you look up you realize he’s already standing and redressed in boxers and an oversized dark gray shirt. 
“Water too,” San instructs and Wooyoung diverts to the mini fridge. 
San eases you off his chest and to the side, and Seonghwa pulls away the sheets that had been under you, now damp and soiled with slick and cum. When he flops back to lie down you notice he’s closer, moving into San’s side and their bodies rest against each other from hip to shoulder, slotting together like a puzzle. 
“Let me in,” Wooyoung says as he climbs back into the bed, a warm washcloth swept between your thighs and a water bottle in your hand. 
Wooyoung’s phone lights up with a chime, an alarm, but he silences without a thought. 
“Woo,” Seonghwa stops him, “get your meds before you forget,” 
You blink hard and lift your head, “Your suppressants?”
“Mm,” Wooyoung nods, quickly moving towards his bag by the door, “I wasn’t even paying attention,” 
“What time is it?” You twist in the sheets. 
“You need yours?” Wooyoung asks, “Where are they?” 
“What day is it?” You start doing mental math and in much the same way you need to take birth control pills like clockwork, you need to stay on schedule with suppressants. 
“Saturday,” San runs a hand along your back to soothe you, “you’re alright,” 
“Where, babe?” Wooyoung asks again, pulling your bag from the floor. 
“There’s a pink pouch in the side,” You tell him, “they should be in there,” 
“Got it,” 
“Did you miss one?” Seonghwa eases you back into the bedding, “Or two?” 
“One,” You answer immediately, your schedule built into you even in heat, “I’m good,” 
“Good,” Seonghwa rubs your back, “don’t worry,” 
“Here,” Wooyoung presses your pill pack into your hand. 
He takes his own pill and then slides back into bed while you pop two out of their little foil packet, Friday and Saturday together, and then down them both with the remaining water in the bottle. Relief fills you immediately, the last thing you want to deal with during onboarding would be a broken and extended cycle. 
“Thank you for the reminder,” You sigh, “I don’t know where my head is,” 
“Heat,” Seonghwa laughs. 
“Mm,” You nod, “this one has been so easy though, honestly,” 
“That’s good,” San finds your hand and gives you a squeeze, “but don’t be hard on yourself,” 
“Exactly,” Seonghwa nods, “I should have asked your schedule,” 
“It’s fine,” You shake your head, “we’re good, crisis averted,” 
Wooyoung laughs and snuggles up to your back, “God, could you imagine if we both forgot,” 
“Absolutely not,” San groans. 
“Both of you in heat?” Seonghwa shakes his head, “I don’t know if we could handle that one,” 
“Ha ha,” Wooyoung grumbles, “I’m not that bad,” 
“I don’t know,” You relax into their touch, letting your eyes drift closed again, “I think I believe them,” 
He huffs into your shoulder, and San and Seonghwa both laugh again, shuffling lower in the bedding until all four of you are sandwiched together. Your body feels stiff, little cramps here and there, but for right now you can just relax and feel them close to you, their combined scents easing you into a warm mid-morning nap. 
You spend the whole weekend tangled up with the three of them in every possible way, falling in and out of the peaks and valleys of your heat right alongside them. It’s easier this time around, never feeling faded or too foggy even on your hardest days, everything you need just taken care of without question. It’s surely the suppressants, but it’s them too, everything feeling so natural and easy and comfortable. You hardly have room to think of anything but yourself and the men with you until your heat breaks entirely. 
You don’t think of them once until it’s over, and then you do. 
This time it’s immediate, a fast sinking feeling while you’re awake that’s like being doused in ice cold water when drinking, an instantly sobering effect that leaves you blinking hard and slightly dizzy. San and Seonghwa aren’t with you, they’re in the kitchen making lunch while you and Wooyoung relaxed together in a bit of a post orgasmic haze, but all of a sudden you wish they were here. 
“Shit,” You breathe, pushing yourself into a sitting position and dragging the robe tighter around you. 
“You good?” Wooyoung asks from his position to your side. 
“Yeah,” You nod, “but it’s done,” 
“That was fast,” He murmurs, stroking your hair back, “I would have thought one more day,” 
“Me too,” You breathe, running your hands over your face and trying to get your head around things. It’s both helpful that it’s Sunday so you can go back to work tomorrow, but too sudden, this heat a full two days shorter than the previous.
“What can I get you?” He rolls over onto one hip and looks up at you. 
“Can you just hand me my phone,” You nod past him to where it sits on the charger, flipped over and silenced, “my roommates are probably looking for me,”
“Yeah,” He grabs it and then grabs the water bottle on the nightstand too, “here, this too,” 
“Thank you,” You take both, and then drink as much water as you can manage to soothe your dry throat. 
Wooyoung slides up to sit next to you and rests a warm hand on your knee, but he stays quiet and lets you come back to center. 
After three days of being with them you almost fully forgot how you left it at the studio, how you left it with them. When you light up your phone and actually take a look at your notifications your stomach knots up immediately. There’s fluff of course, random notifications from Instagram and Twitter, a few texts from friends and you can see that your roommates group chat is actively pinging with messages, but then you scroll a little further to texts from a few nights ago and feel your pulse quicken. 
You hesitate a little, not sure if you really want to know what the unread text from Mingi says, but then you click it and lose your breath all over again. 
He’s freaking out a little bit, but I told him you’re probably already home and sleeping. 
Which you are, right? 
You swallow tightly, and then read the third one, sent fifteen minutes after the first two. 
I just really hope you’re safe.
Now your chest hurts. 
“What is it?” Wooyoung glances at you, but you know he knows. 
It was real, you know it now. Deep in your core you know that every moment spent with them wasn’t just your heat, and it wasn’t just your hormones. The longing you felt after and your willingness to let them have every inch of you wasn’t just nothing. 
You hand him the phone silently, you just can’t manage to say it out loud. 
He reads the text and sees your expression, and all it once it dawns on him too. Wooyoung tucks your hair behind your ear and smooths his thumb along your jaw, “So this heat was different wasn’t it?” 
Your eyes fill with tears fast, and you wet your lips, “Yeah,” 
“Oh, babe,” His eyes soften. 
“Woo,” You swallow hard to push the tears away, “I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t,” 
“Fuck,” He gathers you close, leaning back into the cushions and tucking your face into his chest, “come here, don’t cry,” 
You hear the door creak open and you press your eyes closed tight. 
“What’s going on in here?” San asks, his voice low and soothing, “What’s wrong?” 
Wooyoung rubs your back and sighs, “Life sucks,” 
You laugh sharply into Wooyoung’s chest at his tone and nod your head, “Fucking sucks,” 
“Oh, y/n,” Seonghwa murmurs, “are you coming down already, I’m so sorry we stepped out,” 
Your brain throbs, the memory of Mingi holding you steady as you cried last time flickering so brightly you can almost feel the echo of his arms around you and you bury your head deeper into Wooyoung’s chest as if that will be a place for you to hide away from all of this. 
“Get in here,” Wooyoung says at that, “she’s shivering,” 
Someone warm sidles up to your back, and at the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee you know it’s Seonghwa. He cuddles you both close and presses kisses along your shoulder, “What’s wrong, jagiya? Talk to us,” 
You search through your feelings, through all the things you could say or not say and all you can do is sigh, heavy and hard against Wooyoung’s warm skin. You push yourself back, rolling onto your back between them and you realize San is sitting on the edge of the bed by Seonghwa, reaching over his lover to rest his hand on your thigh. 
You find Wooyoung’s hand in the tangled mess and lace your fingers together, “You’ve all been so wonderful to me the past couple of days,” 
“That’s why you’re so upset?” Seonghwa smooths his hand over your forehead. 
“I don’t want to go back to normal,” You confess, “I don’t want to go back to work,” 
Wooyoung’s brows knit together, fully empathizing with the part that’s hurting so badly. In the clarity of your come down it’s readily apparent to you how different this has been from your time with Yunho and Mingi. This time was casual, this time was easy. The comfort of these two alphas was essential and soothing, but you don’t want them, not like you wanted before. You had been so sure the ache in your body that yearned so deeply was something so easily written off, a biological want, but knowing better now hurts. 
“Why, jagi?” San strokes your skin lovingly. 
“I’ve been so stupid,” You pull your hand from Wooyoung’s and sweep both through your hair, wiping under your eyes as you get control of yourself, “Woo was right all along,” 
You know he’d normally make a joke, but he just nods, “I’m sorry,” 
“Is this about them?” Seonghwa asks softly. 
You manage a nod, “How am I supposed to go back to the studio?” 
“Stop,” San shakes his head firmly, “it’s your studio too.” 
“Is it though?” 
“Yes,” He squeezes you, “I know this hurts, but you said it yourself, they wanted it to be a one-time thing,” 
Misery curls in your gut at that thought, that your time with them really is over, but you nod, “They’ve been pretty clear, they just want to be friends.” 
“And you?” San prompts you again, and Seonghwa looks up to him. 
“I’ve been moving on from them since it happened,” You murmur, “I guess I just didn’t know before now if it was real or just… being an omega.” 
“At least you know now,” Wooyoung offers quietly, “and I know this doesn’t help, help, but next time when it feels real, you’ll know it is, you can trust it.” 
You don’t really want a next time with someone else, some faceless fated alpha, but you nod anyway. 
Seonghwa leans into you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I know it’s hard loving someone, or caring for someone like this when they don’t feel the same,” he says quietly, “but believe me when I say you’re worth a thousand of them, and this heartache will fade,” 
The room is still around you, quiet, and your breath hitches as you hang on his words and how true you know they are. Wooyoung reaches across you to brush his hand down Seonghwa’s arm, and you feel the weight of the bed change. When you open your eyes, San is gone. 
“Sannie?” You murmur. 
Seonghwa shakes his head against yours, “He’s fine,” he murmurs, “this isn’t about him,” 
“It’s complicated,” You surmise, turning to find Seonghwa’s brown eyes. 
“Isn’t it always?” He smiles, angles into a joke, and the moment of vulnerability is gone. 
You let him hold you quietly in the middle of the bed for a moment before you manage, “What now?” 
“Now we get up,” Wooyoung squeezes your hand, “we get cleaned up, and we get an absolutely delicious fucking dinner,” 
Despite the tears lingering in your eyes his words pull a laugh straight from your chest and you nod, “That sounds… so good right about now,” 
“Mhm,” Wooyoung nods, “you can’t let this pull you under again,” 
“I know,” You breathe. 
“Tomorrow will be fine,” He doubles down, “awkward, but you’ve done that with them before. You’ll be just fine,” 
“Okay,”
“You two can use the shower first if you want,” Wooyoung kisses your shoulder. 
“Should we order in?” Seonghwa asks, still resting by your side. 
“No,” Wooyoung insists, “we’re going out, and we’re getting our minds off things.” He’s off the bed a second later and he follows San out of the room, no room for argument now that he’s set his mind to cheering you back up. 
Seonghwa’s quiet, but then he drops his lips to your gland and presses gentle kisses there to help soothe you before he asks, “Are you up to going out? I can pull the alpha card if you need to me to calm Youngie down,” 
If you’re being really truly honest, you want nothing more than to curl up in bed, but you know if you do that you’ll just spend the next ten hours worrying about tomorrow’s inevitable encounter. You chew your lip and fight the urge to take his offer, “It might be good for me to get out,” you settle on. 
“Then we’re going,” He nods. 
Seonghwa rolls off the bed, but you can feel the question lingering on your tongue and you reach out and take his hand, “Hwa,”
“What is it?” He smiles softly down at you. 
You smooth your thumb along the back of his hand, “You and San,” 
His smile fades and his eyes flick away from yours for just a moment, “I’ll tell you another time,” 
“You don’t have to,” You rush to correct, “but you’ve been here for me, and I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you too,” 
“I’m fine, y/n, honestly,” He retracts his hand but you tighten your grip. 
“I’m sure you are,” You hold his gaze, “but I’m still here,” 
He swallows tightly and then nods, “I’ll start the shower for you,” 
You leave it here, you have to. With San so close in the next room and the way Seonghwa left you in bed you can practically feel his boundary line between you and you have to respect it. Maybe he’ll tell you someday and maybe he won’t, but it’s clear to you that there’s something swirling and deep between these two alphas and their omega. Even in the easiest relationships, things are hard. 
With the room empty you take a moment and you turn your phone over in your hands. You need to put them out of sight and out of mind if you’re going to make it through the night at your own apartment without fixating on them and how you feel. But for just a moment you just can’t help yourself. 
With a sigh you open up your messages again and read through Mingi’s texts and then Yunho’s. Your fingers hover over the keys and you wonder what message you could write back at this point that wouldn’t feel terrible to them or to you, or what doors it might open, but you don’t. 
Seonghwa calls out to let you know the shower is warm and you pull yourself out of bed, leaving your phone once again face down on the dresser. It will just be what it will be, and nothing you do today will change that. You follow Seonghwa into the shower, and then you both follow Wooyoung and San out for the night. 
It all feels normal almost immediately, like any other night out that you’ve had with them before. You don’t feel any longing, any desperate ache. You don’t want to cling to Seonghwa or San at all, despite how good the weekend might have been. Suppressants or not, you feel normal. Clear. 
The remaining tension with San is gone too, with practiced ease he’s back to his normal self. You know it clearly, he’s done this exact dance before. He laughs alongside Seonghwa like best friends do, with a perfectly acceptable amount of space between them. No heated glances, no touches under the table. 
You think maybe all you have to do is learn how to dance like San.
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