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#Curt: I feel sorry for you
imasexypotato · 5 months
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Gale: I'm in love with John
Curt: ....John?
Gale: Yes
Curt: ...As in Bucky?
Gale: That's right
Curt: Major John Clarence Egan??
Gale: ....*nods*
Curt: .....*flashbacks to John howling like a dog while drunk*
Gale: .... Thoughts?
Curt: And prayers bitch, holy shit
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ricky-mortis · 2 months
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“And Hades and Persephone
They took each other’s hands
And brother, you know what they did?
They danced”
I am once again positively ill about Spytown /pos
Lovely au by @dxppercxdxver
Curt’s suit inspired by the talented @szollibisz
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uhhhitsme · 2 months
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i do in fact know that my opinion is neither wanted or needed tonight but im being plagued by agent curt mega visions. because like. god. he really is a guy, man. he cares so much about his dead ex boyfriend that his entire world basically ends when he dies. he chooses to kill him again. he blames himself for his ex's death and experiences so much emotional turmoil over it he has an entire song about how much of a failure of a spy he's become. he never verbally acknowledges that he's basically the reason owen died. the only reason he doesnt retire from the job for good is because he thinks that owen would want him to get his life together and be the person he was before owen died. he almost never says owens name during the entire show. he feels this massive obligation to save the world and protect the people around him, and that if he cant do that then he's a failure. he lies to tatiana about the existence of chimera and never successfully destroys it. owen was probably the most important person in his life. he chooses spying over him in the end. he probably never stopped loving owen. owen died thinking curt never loved him enough.
its just. god. he cares about people---tries to do everything in his power to protect them, and keep them safe, even when it's not advisable. even when he knows it could get him hurt. he doesn't understand that he can be loved outside of his capacity to be a hero, so he tries and tries and tries desperately to be one. to be someone untouchable. the perfect, all-american man. who does things because theyre right, and does it well, does it cool, has ladies lining up around the block to thank him. not someone who is flawed. not someone who is a "sexual deviant." who loves another man so deeply that he probably wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. to him, the person he was, wasn't the person anyone could want. so he destroyed himself, and pushed every person who loved him away, trying to be the person he thought he world wanted him to be.
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Do you know this (noncanon) ADHD character?
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Evidence below the cut!
Evidence: He exhibits ADHD traits, he acts without thinking a lot, like spontaneously “WE SHOULD BLOW THIS BUILDING UP”, he also fidgets a lot and cannot sit still! “Agent Curt Mega has ADHD” is a tag on ao3 for saf fics
Additional note from mod: Under Personality section on the wiki page for this media, it says "He is shown to be brash, dramatic, and often not the smartest, often making inadvisable decisions to the detriment of himself and those around him. He is often seen upping danger without reason and making situations more complicated then necessary." which sounds like a pretty typical part of ADHD coding to me. (I often see characters who are clearly ADHD coded have their impulsiveness interpreted as unintelligence...)
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i saw u get an ask about pizzano hi! we are deffos low on characterization atm, but sugary spire DotCom (pizelles personal blog) does have a really good scene with him that i think explains most of his deal really fast (unlke the noise, hes just insane because hes like that; the tv network has nothing to do with it)
Elaborate please. Bc my first thought was you referring me to an ask-blog/rp-blog and i do Not engage w those kinds of blogs AT ALL. But it looks like ur just referring me to a website?? And i am um. Not going to just visit a site bc an anon told me to 😭
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starry-bi-sky · 4 months
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I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt
“Woah. You look like shit."
Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.
The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.
"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."
And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.
The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.
If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.
"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.
"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.
"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.
The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.
He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."
There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.
"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."
Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"
"Daniel? Is that you?"
His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.
#I AM LOUDLY PUSHING THE BATDAD AGENDA#anyways— add ons are encouraged i wanna talk more dpxdc with folks i just cant find any aus i really like enough to engage with#which is nobody's fault and its why im making my own content in order to reach more people#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc#dp x dc#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dpdc#dc x dp#dpxdc prompts#i took a ‘which batfam member are you (except its personal)’ quiz a few days ago#and got bruce wayne. and then was promptly read to filth why im most like him and it rudely but accurately explained why im the most like#him. it also consequently explained to me why i like him so much. whenever i see him in his kindest form i see a mirror looking back#anyways lots of ‘danny rejecting bruce as a parent’ aus. may i present: bruce and danny finding family in each other aus. batdad aus pls.#dpxdc prompt#dcxdp#this prompt can take place at any point of Batkid accumulation but personally i was imagining this as before Bruce has any of his kids yet#eldest brother danny supremacy and also just that one on one bonding#danny being someone who was never afraid of the dark as a kid and even less so as he got older. taking solace in it as a ghost because you#cant hide in the dark when you glow. his enemies can't jump out at him. but he can jump out at them. how can he be afraid of the dark when#the dark is where the stars like to live? there's a comfort in the shadows. there might be something hiding in it. but he's hiding in it to#blood blossoms eat ghosts headcanon#wasn't sure where i was gonna go with this at the beginning and then i caught steam.#batman casually kidnaps an orphan upon kid's request. also the kid was Actively Dying Of Poison. What was he gonna do?? NOT help him?#mister 'keeps candy in his utility belt specifically for scared children'??? no way.
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feyburner · 11 days
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I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app
*
Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.
“No?” he says.
“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”
“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”
He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.
And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.
“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”
“Lightyears beyond, actually.”
“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”
He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.
“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”
“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.
“Exactly.”
“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”
Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”
Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”
“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”
“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”
There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.
“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”
“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”
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nanaslutt · 11 months
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okey so brainrot: this is RLLY WEIRD IM SORRY but the reader is like innocent/shy and doesn't really have any experiences regarding sex so like one day she asks satoru to "show her" how to touch herself but he demonstrates it on a fruit (like on an orange? peach? or smth like that) then things get heated😉. I DONT KNOW IF I EXPLAINED THIS WELL
Gojo teaching you to touch yourself on an orange.. and things escalate..
contains: fem reader, teasing, sexual tension, fingering, guided masturbation, experienced gojo, readers first orgasm, he talks you through it, 99% of this is dirty talk and nasty dialogue
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔
*Ding* the sound of a video recording starting chimed from Gojo’ phone, “Okay okay, say that again for me?~” The white haired man cooed cockily.
“Gojo you asshole! Ugh, forget it, I was stupid to ask you.” You threw your arms up in defeat, rolling your eyes as you turned to walk out of his room, embarrassed.
“Noooonono,” he cried, the chime sounded again, ending the video, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t tease you like that~” The man was suddenly behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso and rocking you side to side, “Forgive me, I was wrong okayy~” he tried to reason, he really didn’t want to blow this.
After all, his cute little friend had just burst into his room and confessed that she had never touched herself before and was wanting some guidance; knowing gojo had some experience with women under his belt, you came to him for help.
“To make it up to you, I won’t even make you pay for this session how bout that?” he grinned behind you annoyingly, poking his head out to the side of you so you could see his expression through your peripheral vision.
“What are you some sex therapist?” you laughed, making him sigh in relief. “I’ll be anything you need me to be~” he wiggled his eyebrows, making you shrug his heavy body off of you in faux disgust.
“So, you a visual learner? or more hands on?” He asked when you turned your body to face him once more, letting him drag you so you were sitting on the end of his bed.
“I’m not uh.. really sure when it comes to this.” you confessed. “You’re not sure of much huh?” he teased, making you punch his shoulder lightly, “haha, you’ll know soon if you’re a hands on learner or not.” he said ambiguously.
But you trusted gojo with this for some reason..
..which might’ve been a mistake.
You did not anticipate how riled up this situation would get you. You’ve always found gojo attractive; who didn’t; but you came to him because nothing had ever happened between the two of you before, you were friends, you were sure the atmosphere wouldn’t feel so embarrassing but—
“This is your clit, you wanna make little circles on it like this with one or two fingers,” The white haired man spoke, currently holding half an orange in one hand, and rubbing tight circles onto the suggestive looking slit of the fruit with the other.
Gojo was sat in front of you on his chair while you sat on the bed, his legs spread as he held the fruit out in front of him and instructed you on it.
“Don’t wanna go too fast either, wanna work yourself up a bit.” He spoke, looking up at you every so often to make sure you were paying attention; this was important after all.
“If you start getting too needy, rub your fingers down here-“ he dragged his long digits down to the middle of the fruit, presumably where the opening to your pussy would be.
He rubbed his fingers on the outside of the slit, in a ‘come hither’ motion; not inserting his fingers; just caressing them on the outside, occasionally rubbing them back and forth over the opening.
“You paying attention?” he checked, snapping you out of your stupor as your eyes flitted up to his, you were hoping the blush on your face wasn’t as evident as it felt. You just gave a curt nod at his question, not trusting your voice to sound steady right now.
The longer and longer this went on, the needier and needier you we’re feeling between your own legs, a heat was growing between them and you were praying gojo hadn’t noticed that your legs were crossed not in comfort but because you had been steadily squeezing them together and rubbing your pussy against the rough denim stitch your jeans made for awhile now.
“Good, it gets a little more interesting now so make sure you’re paying attention.” he says, waiting for you nod again before he continued.
“This is your vaginal opening, this is where you would put your little fingers inside yourself when you masturbate.” he said, “or get fucked heh,” he adds vulgarly, making himself smile.
“Start with one finger, especially since you’ve never done anything here before right?” He asks, still nonchalantly rubbing his fingers against the slit while he waits for you to once again acknowledge his words; his piercing blue eyes staring bullets through you as he does so.
“Y-yeah.” You verbally answered, silently begging for him to continue. If you tried hard enough, you could almost feel him touching you like that instead of the stupid fruit, who you were unnecessarily jealous of at the moment.
“It’s gonna be tight, and it might not feel like much at first-“ You held your breath as he spoke, waiting for his next moves. Gojo looked down at the fruit, teasing a circle around the slit one last time before he pressed the tip of his finger into the center deeper and deeper, making juices spill out around it. “But a couple inches inside, there’s gonna be a little rough patch.” he tells you.
“A rough patch?” you repeat, confused. “Your g-spot.” he answered, “It’s gonna make you feel soo good.” he smirks, looking up at you from his ministrations on the fruit. “All you gotta do is ruuub~ like this-“ he demonstrates, massaging upwards inside the slit of the fruit, making vulgar squelching noises emanate around the room.
“It’ll even sound similar if you’re doing it right,” he adds, giggling to himself. “Can you do both?” you ask, hoping the breathlessness of your words wasn’t able to be picked up by Gojo’s ears.
He tilts his head to the side for a second, questioning what you mean before his eyes light up when he fully registers what you were asking, “Ohhh~ You want me to show you how to touch your clit and finger yourself at the same time?” he asked, a slightly mocking lilt to his voice.
“Oh I just- I wanted to know if it was possible..” you shyly clarified, looking away for a second, suddenly way too aware of his eyes on you.
“Aww~ of course it’s possible!” he beamed. You watched his thumb come up and pet the top of the slit of the orange, where your clit would be, and rubbed back and forth when his fingers thrusted out of the slit. “You can use two hands if this is too uncomfortable,” He adds.
“Most women cant cum unless you give ur little clit some attention, even with how good touching yourself inside can feel.” Gojo spoke.
“Have you ever-“ you gulped, “made someone cum from just the inside?” you asked, taking the brief pause he took to answer to add, “I-I just wanna know if it’s p-possible is all!”
“Oh yeah~” he answers in a heartbeat after your last sentence, “Even made a couple squirt from just the inside too.” he brags.
“Shit,” you accidentally mumble, not meaning to actually say that our loud, “What was that?” he asks, playing dumb when he mentally recorded the word that fell from your lips, making his ego swell.
“Oh n-nothing.” you brushed it off, waving your hand in front of yourself, urging him to continue his teachings. “Make sure when your fingers are inside that pump them in-“ he slowly drags his fingers out of the fruit, juices coating them, making you squeeze your legs together at the lewd image, “and out, that you also curl them inside at the same time.” he instructs.
“That’s how you’re gonna make your g-spot happy and get the most of your pleasure.” Gojo finishes.
Your mouth was completely dry at this point, leg bouncing in impatience, still subtly squeezing your thighs together for even the smallest bit of relief while you watched the juices drip down his lengthy fingers.
“Well that’s about it for the basics, I think you can go pretty far with what i’ve taught you, if you can remember it all.” He giggles, raising from the chair and moving to set the fruit on the table.
“Wait!” you say a little too loudly, hopping he didn’t sense the need in your voice, “Um.. I think I might be a hands on learner..” You confess, “I’m still a little confused..��
Gojo stops in his tracks, retracting his hand that’s holding the fruit back towards his body as a sinister smirk grows on his face. “Yeah?” he asks, cheering internally when you not coyly.
“Alright then, class is back in session!!” he throws his hands up, walking over to you.
When you think he’s going to sit back down in the chair he actually walks past it, and past you. You turn your head to see where he was going but your muscles freeze and tense up when you feel the bed dip behind you, followed by his strong chest pressing snugly against your back.
“This okay?” he asks before he continues, to which you nod. “Need to hear you say it, sweets.” You blush at the nickname, glad he can’t see your face like this, “Yes, this is okay.” you confirm softly.
“Alright, here” he holds the fruit out to you, and you take it in both your smaller hands. “I’m gonna walk you through it, that sound okay?” he checks, smiling to himself when you let out a meek ‘mhm.’
He pulls the both of you further back on the bed, so he’s resting comfortably upright against the bed frame, and you following suit against his chest. “Comfortable?” the while haired man whispers far too close to your ear.
“Y-yes,” you confirm once more, the hitch of your breath made him smile to himself.
“Okayy~ Ideally you would want to work yourself up by playing with your chest first,, slowly drag your fingers down your body, touch yourself over your pants and all that— but we only have an orange so this will have to do!” he says, not realizing (?) how hot his words were making you.
“Start by slowly touching your clit.” He spoke, as if you were really touching yourself right now. Your shaky fingers came down to find the top of the slit, rubbing one finger against where you guessed your clit would be, as he watched intently over your shoulder.
“Yeah, right there good job.” he praised, making you wish you were back to sitting on the bed with your legs crossed so you could squeeze them together. It would be a little too risky to try anything when he was so close to you, you bet he could hear your heartbeat beating out of your chest from how the two of you were squished together right now.
“A little faster now.” he instructed, licking his lips behind you as he felt your breath pick up when you drew faster circles against the fruit, wet ‘schlick’ noises echoing in your ears.
“Like this?” you asked, switching up the direction of the circles every so often, “Oh yeah, you’re a pro,” he giggled into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine, “You sure you’ve never touched yourself before?”
“Well I have but it.. it didn’t feel like much.” you confessed, blushing at your own revealing words. “I see..” he ponders, cerulean eyes focused on your smaller fingers playing with the fruit.
“I have an idea, something that might help you understand a little better, if your open to it,” he pauses you, his big hand coming to stop your movements against the orange.
“Um, what is it?” you ask hesitantly. The white haired man leaned a little too close for comfort, making you whine out loud when he whispered, “You trust me?” into the shell of your ear.
Truthfully, Gojo had been hard from the moment you asked him to teach you how to touch yourself. Stealing glances at your thighs pressing together not so subtly when he was talking you through step by step how to pleasure yourself, watching you suck your lip into your mouth when his words became a little too dirty, how your breath picked up when he inserted his fingers into the slit of the fruit.
He was losing his mind, his patience was wearing increasingly thinner and thinner at your reactions, he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and your obliviousness was making his cock drip pre steadily into his boxers.
Thank god for his baggy sweater or you might’ve (100% would’ve) noticed the huge hard on he was sporting in his sweats. He was surprised you didn’t say anything when he was pressed against your back, assuming you were too enthralled and overwhelmed with what was going on to notice.
“I trust you.” you responded honestly, making his cock twitch against the fabric that confined it.
“I’m gonna touch this fruit just how I just showed you, and you’re going to mimic me, on yourself.” He whispered, his hot breath against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
“R-right here? now?” you asked clarifying his words, slight panic and embarrassment seeping into your tone. “I saw you rubbing your thighs together, you’re aching for it, right? What better time to practice getting off when you’re actually all worked up?” He made a good point, you’ve been wanting to touch yourself for half an hour now, you were sure you had completely soaked through your panties by this point.
You made a sound of embarrassment, eyes darting around the room at him having exposed you, “Awww heh, don’t be embarrassed, I’m in the same boat.” he confessed, trying to comfort you, “Been so hard since you asked me for help.”
His words did little to comfort you, making you even more flustered as you covered your eyes with the hand you weren’t holding the orange in, “Okay- just.. just do something, please.” you begged, not being able to take the throbbing between your own legs anymore.
“Okay okay, all you gotta do is follow my lead, kay?” he clarifies, grabbing your wrist and pulling off of your face so he could see your expression from the side. When he heard you let out a meek ‘okay’ he reached for the orange and set it down on the bed for a moment.
“Go ahead and take off your pants for me,, leave your panties on.” Came Gojo’s first instructions. You followed, leaning forward and away from his chest, your fingers worked quickly at undoing your button and zipper, sliding your fingers underneath the waistband as you pulled the garment off your body, revealing your soft-looking skin to Gojos eyes.
When you leaned back against him he dragged the tips of his fingers along your thighs, his assumption of your soft skin becoming true as he dragged his digits all the way up to your hips, gripping your waist for a moment before he complimented, “So fucking soft.”
“Spread your legs pretty,” His soothing voice told you, staring intently between your legs, wishing he had a better view, but after this little scene he had high hopes he would have no problem getting a closer look at you.
You did as you were told, you parted your knees, feet propped up on the bed as you waited with bated breath for his next instruction, feeling yourself throb behind the drenched fabric.
He reached for the fruit again, holding it with both hands in front of you, as he started tapping with one long finger on the ‘clit’ of the orange. When you didn’t move your own finger to repeat him he pats your pelvis lightly with his hand, “I know i’m addicting to watch, but you gotta touch yourself too.” He laughs, making you snap out of your stupor as you forgot you were supposed to be mimicking him.
“S-sorry, do it again.” you request, really focusing on his fingers against the fruit this time while you started sliding your own fingers inside your panties.
“Uh-uh” he warned, his voice alone stopping your hand in its tracks, “Over your panties, I’ll tell you when to touch yourself directly, I’ll take care of everything.” He explains, leaving a small peck against the side of your head.
“Alright, just pay attention that’s all you gotta do.” Gojo starts up again, tapping his fingers on the fruit and this time you follow him, tapping your finger over your wet panties, right against your clit.
The little stimulation alone was so intense, after being worked up for so long this relief was much needed. “Feels good to touch yourself after being so horny huh?” He spoke, like he was reading your mind.
‘Mhm’ you respond, letting your body relax against him, your head coming back to lay against his chest as you let yourself feel what he was allowing you to.
“I bet it does..” Gojo smirks, looking at your lithe shaky fingers tapping softly against your clothed mound. After a couple of seconds he decided to press against the fruit, starting up the small circles, “lightly.” He reminded.
You followed suit, the circles felt worlds better than the tapping, the consistent pressure and pattern was making you dizzy. The first actual whimper of the night left your lips and it made Gojo’s cock twitch in his pants.
He cooed at you when you squeezed your eyes shut, mouth dropping open in a small o shape while you continued your ministrations, “Cant follow directions with your eyes shut can you? Or you got some kinda super power I’m unaware of~?” he joked, making you crack your eyes open and look at his fingers again.
You noticed he had picked up his pace, you were unsure of when he did but you were happy you noticed now. You were appreciative at getting to touch yourself but were growing needy with the slow pace of his fingers. “F-fuck.” You gasped out, your hips bucking into your finger as you quickened the movement.
“Talk to me, how’s it feel.” Gojo was growing impatient himself, he loved teasing you and he knew he should take this slow especially since it was your fist time touching yourself properly— but the thought of pressing your back down into a mean arch while he just pulled your panties aside and fucked his cock into you at the hilt was constantly in the back of his mind.
He loved teasing his sex partners, but he’s never done anything like this before. Taking it this slow and instructing someone like this was new to him. It was so intimate, and so soft, and his dick really fucking liked it.
“F-feels so good, I- I wanna take my panties off.” you confessed, your ass bumping against his hard on every time your hips humped against your finger. “Yeah? Wanna touch your wet pussy directly?” He spoke, biting his lip as he held back a groan.
“Yes-yes- please..” You begged, the way he was talking was making your need to have something inside you— to feel more—so much worse.
“Soon, I promise.” He said, rubbing his long fingers against the slid of the fruit, making quiet squelching noises as he ran his finger up and down the length of it. He smiled to himself when you listened quicker this time, you were catching on.
You rubbed two fingers over the length of your pussy, moaning when he stopped his movements and pressed on and off against the hole of the fruit, where the opening of your pussy would be.
You repeated the action, feeling the fabric of your wet panties get pushed against the entrance of your little hole, “I cant tell if those sounds are you, or the fruit.” Gojo laughed breathlessly, becoming dizzy at the squelching that became louder and louder in his ears.
“Gojo..” you wined needily into the air. “Okay, okay,” His resolve cracked much faster than it normally would’ve. He knew he was the one in control right now but it felt like you had him on a leash, controlling his every move. Just a couple of wines from you was enough to make him fold, giving in to what you wanted.
He grinned watching you hastily remove your panties and spreading your legs once more, being so obedient by not immediately touching yourself and instead digging your nails into your thighs and waiting for his fingers to move against the orange.
He wanted to see how long you could hold out, but his dick and head alike were yelling at him to move his own fingers so he could watch you touch yourself, so that’s exactly what he did. Using two long fingers he rubbed hard circles again the fruit, his giggles shaking your body when you jumped into action with no hesitation, rubbing and pinching your clit between your fingers as you slid them back and forth, spelling letters and drawing shapes on it— whatever gojo did, you did.
“Fuck Gojo, this feels so good-“ you moaned, fighting the urge to let your head fall back as you felt an unfamiliar coil tighten itself in your tummy.
“I know baby I know.” His voice spoke with need, taking all four of his fingers and smacking them against the entire fruit, just so you would repeat him so he could hear how wet you were. “Oh shiit, you’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he started rubbing little circles again.
“This turning you on? huh?” He spoke, “You like when I show you how to treat your little pussy?” His words made you moan, going off of his instruction and quickening the pace of your fingers against yourself, “I know you wanna cum but you gotta slow down, I didn’t speed up my fingers so you don’t get to either~” Gojo reminded.
Being the obedient girl you were, you slowed your fingers down, “Sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologized profusely, “It’s alright,” He smiled, “It just feels so good huh?” Again, it was like he was reading your mind.
“So good, s-so so good.” you whine. “Let’s make you feel ever better, huh?” Gojo spoke against your ear, his breathy laugh tickling your skin. He dragged his fingers down to the slit of the fruit, just teasing the entrance, watching your fingers do the same.
“I cant go as deep on my model here, but when I put them inside, I want you to go deep okay?” He said. “Okay, okay.” You rush, anxious but excited to have something inside of you.
“Good girl, such a good listener.” He praised, making your cunt clench around nothing. “Okay, here we go~” Gojo slowly pushed a single finger into the fruit, his jaw dropping with a smile when he watched your smaller finger insert itself into your walls.
“Yeahhh, how does that feel?” He asks, his cock dripping out more pre into his boxers, throbbing and twitching against its confines. “Fuck.. ‘s tight.” you whine, making him groan into the air.
“Yeah? Can you feel yourself twitching?” Gojo is trying to pull as many details out of you as he can, his cock was aching for it. “Y-yes, so much- ngh-“ you choke on a moan when you start to slide your finger it in and out, following Gojo’s lead.
“Remember to curl your finger twords the top of your tummy when you put it inside,” He instructs, watching your body jolt when you follow his instruction. “Oh fu-“ you cut yourself off with a breathless moan when you feel it— your gspot.
You’ve never felt anything like this before, it almost felt more intense than touching your clit, but drastically different, you didn’t know what part was your favorite— you were becoming enthralled with your own body.
“Fuck it- it feels so good Gojo-“ you whine, turning your head against his chest so you’re making eye contact with him. “I know baby I knoww~” He cooes down at you, shaking his head.
“Put another finger when you can take it, it’ll feel so much better.” he reveals, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth while he waited with bated breath as you pulled out your finger, covered in your juices— which made him grown— before you reinserted it, this time with your ring finger joining in tandem.
“Ohmygod-“ you cry, “It’s s-so much tighter gojo-“ you looked back down at his fingers, mimicking his increasingly rough pace as he looses his mind a bit at your use of his last name.
“Satoru baby, call me satoru.” He desperately needed to hear you say his name properly, every cell in his body was aching for it. “Sa-toru! Toru fuck!” you whine. His eyes roll back, his head falling suit and bumping against the headboard at his name leaving your lips.
“Yeah, keep saying my name sweet thing,” he groaned, not able to stop himself from humping against your lower back any longer, the air around you becoming increasingly thicker at how aroused the two of you were becoming.
Suddenly something snapped inside Gojo and he discarded the orange on the floor, wrapping one strong arm around your torso while he brought his juice soaked fingers to your lips, tapping them for you to open up for him.
“Yesss, good fucking girl, don’t stop your fingers- fuckkk-“ The white haired man groaned when your tongue eagerly licked around his fingers, he groaned at the warmth of your mouth, pushing his fingers as far as you would let him into your mouth, coughing a bit around them when they tickled the back of your throat.
“Play with your clit too sweetie, wanna see you cum all over your fingers.” He directed, keeping his fingers snug in your mouth as you moaned and whined around them, his other hand gripping the side of your waist strong enough to leave bruises as your other hand joined the mix on your pussy, rubbing quick circles with perfect pressure right against your clit.
“Fuck, you feel it? You gonna cum?” He groaned when your body jerked more frequently, breath coming in shorter pants as well, a sign of your impending orgasm.
You nodded against him, moaning around his fingers as you quickened your thrusts, the squelching emanating louder in the room as your juices started pooling around your fingers.
“Yesyesyes, take it, keep rubbing your clit just like that, fuck-“ Gojo felt like he was about to cum himself, lightheaded and entranced at the scene in front of him— watching you please yourself so eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was about to witness your first ever orgasm, something he only ever dreamed about.
You tried to speak his name around his fingers, warning him you were about to cum but it came out muffled. He removed his fingers from your mouth, grabbing your jaw with the same hand, and smearing your spit messily against your skin— he directed your head to look between your legs.
“Watch yourself cum baby, want you to take it all in, remember how fucking good this feels.” He instructed, as you whined and moaned his name freely into the room.
“Toru- I- I think i’m cumming!! fuck-“ you cried, squeezing your eyes shut as the dam broke.
“Oh yesyesyes- there you fucking go~ good fucking girl~” He talked you through it as you came all over your fingers— cum gushing out around them as your cunt pulsed around your digits, body jerking in on itself after every wave of your high, your legs and hands shaking at the intensity.
You panted as you came down from your first ever orgasm, barely registering that Gojo was praising you as your mind felt fuzzy, you were feeling complete bliss, you couldn’t believe it took you so long to finally do this— you were addicted.
“Satoru- ngh-“ you whined in sensitivity as you slowly pulled out your fingers, holding your soaked digits up into the air and blushing at how they shined in the light with how wet they were.
Gojo reached for your wrist, shamelessly bringing your hand to his mouth as he sucked your fingers into his mouth, moaning and eyes rolling back at the taste. Your face blushed increasingly darker at his antics, clenching your thighs at how his soft tongue felt cleaning off your fingers.
After he popped them out of his mouth a dopey grin made itself home on his face, “So fucking sweet too.” he praised, licking his lips to clean up any drop of your juices he might’ve missed.
Gojo squeezed his arm around you tighter, gripping your face once more as he made you turn your head more directly towards him before he spoke again, “Wanna learn how to touch a dick next?”
pt. 2 here
8K notes · View notes
julietsbody · 9 months
Text
innocence — modern ! coriolanus snow + reader : your friends ask you to get some drugs from the local dealer, but you never expect he would take a liking to you.
tags : 18+!!! MDNI!!! drug dealing ! coryo, drugs, praise kink, overprotective behavior, possessive behavior, porn with feelings, p in v sex, fingering, special treatment
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coriolanus snow hated parties, they were loud, and the people were insufferable— but he needed the money from the things he sold. cocaine, weed, even some ecstasy. whatever the people wanted, whatever helped support his grandmother and cousin. they weren’t living in the most luxury like all the other people who held parties in these neighborhoods, so that’s why coriolanus attended them, they always paid the most.
he typically got douchebags or stuck - up pretty girls, they both always paid him in crumpled up ones that he took forever to straighten out and count— what a bunch of assholes.
what he never expected, though, was you, coming up to the man dressed in a korn shirt and baggy jeans with a bow in your hair as well as wearing a pretty dress. your doe eyes peered up at him when you tapped his shoulder, he turned, eyes slotting down to meet yours, “hey.”
“hi,” you hesitate, cute, “i.. do you sell drugs?”
he clears his throat, “sorry?”
“do you—“
“probably shouldn’t repeat yourself, doll,” he tips his head up, “i do, are you buying?“
“just for my friends, yeah,” you smile shyly at him, and he returns it.
you’re so innocent, had you ever done any drugs before? definitely not the ones he sells, maybe the weed, but cocaine or ecstasy? no, no way. if it were for you, he wouldn’t be selling you it anyway. coriolanus had a certain soft spot, if you will, for the innocent girls that wander up to him at parties with their batting eyelashes and naturally pouted lips.
“alright, let’s go upstairs,” he tips his head to the stairs, chuckling when you move to give a thumbs up to your friends before following after him, “why do they make you ask for them?”
he suddenly moves back to grab your wrist when the halls find themselves crowded, not wanting to lose you in the sea of people, nor you lose him. you were a client, a customer, and he always treats his customer this way.
loud incorrect buzzer.
he doesn’t!
coriolanus never dares to allow himself to sweeten up around his customers, or anyone, but something about your shy, deer like attitude— it had a wolf wanting to protect.
“they say they’re too nervous to do it themselves,” you finally answer when he leads you into the nearest empty room, closing the door behind you.
he finally lets go of your wrist, “that so? what are they askin’ for?”
“cocaine,” you swallow.
“then they’re not nervous,” he chuckles, having to deal with his fair share of cocaine users, none of them are nervous to approach him, “why do you let them push you around?”
he moves to sit on the bed, chopping up the cocaine from his pocket on the nightstand next to him. he typically doesn’t like when his customers stand over him, because he never knows what they will do, and he likes to be in control at all times— but you’re harmless, aren’t you? just a little deer.
you exhale a nervous laugh, “they’re not pushing me around, they’re just asking me for favors.”
he hums, eyes peering up at you as his hands absentmindedly work on the pearl powder, it was muscle memory for him at this point. “you promise you’re not doing this shit, too?”
“i promise,” your lips tip up to a curt smile, “it’s really.. scary, honestly.”
he exhales, eyes trailing over the curves of your face before they meet the nightstand again, swiping the powdered sugar like substance into a little baggie. you watch him, almost admiring, “yeah. it is really scary, dangerous, too— don’t want you doin’ this shit too.”
a warm feeling courses through your veins, you hardly realize he’s holding the baggies out for you until he clears his throat, you blink a few times, quickly trying to grasp the money you had— it wasn’t given to you by your friends to spend for them, it was just your own money. how cruel.
“it’s on the house,” he quickly says, almost unaware of what he was saying himself until it finally passes his lips.
you bat your lashes at him, “what—“
“free, doll, just take it,” he allows himself a faint smile.
you hesitantly reach to take the baggies, “are you sure…?”
he nods, “‘m positive.”
“thank you, snow,” his eyebrows furrow at how sweet his name sounds on your tongue, like nectar delivered by the kindest dove from the gods.
you turn to leave, but he quickly stands, “hey—“ he pauses, eyes sweeping over your figure as he tries to figure out what to say, you probably go to millions of parties with your asshole friends, possibly with other dealers.. “some other dealers are gonna try to rip you off, make you pay a lot for a little bit— so just, come to me and i’ll treat you good as long as you’re staying out of trouble, princess.”
“okay, i will,” you nod quickly.
“good girl.”
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
you don’t see coriolanus for a while after that night, it has been no more than a few days, less than a week but the idea of you is rotting in his brain and eating him whole from the inside out. at every party he went to, every girl with a bow in their hair (he despises that it’s the latest trend) or wearing a baby pink dress reminds him of you. with their fluttering lashes and soft smiles, god, he hates that he sees you in every one of them. he hates that you have completely plagued his entire conscience, but yet he never complains about it, not once.
sometimes, sejanus, one of the other known dealers, though he more so considers himself a look - out when coriolanus is selling, or a promoter for coriolanus’ business— he notices how coriolanus’ eyes linger more than usual on the women at parties, it almost makes him laugh, or tease coriolanus.
isn’t he supposed to be intimidating? not a man easily falling for women.
a lover boy, that’s what he seemed like now.
sejanus swishes around his drink in his cup, eyes falling to coriolanus, “what’s up with you?”
coriolanus blinks once, twice, “what are you talking about?”
“you haven’t blinked in like an hour,” sejanus liked to overexaggerate, “are you okay?”
“of course i am,” he scoffs, “‘m gonna find arachne.”
arachne, sejanus’ best friend, albeit she talks so much shit about him behind his back. sejanus is sweet, passive, and arachne is the complete opposite. some would call arachne a maneater, coriolanus thinks of her as a conceited bitch who needs to be put on a leash. she had a tendency to run off whenever she went to parties with coriolanus and sejanus, so coriolanus always had to run after her to try and find her.
sejanus nods, offering a small i’ll look too.
coriolanus allows sejanus to walk the opposite way as he turns the corner, eyes scanning each room for a brunette with a bold red lip. he doesn’t find her anywhere, god, she better not be having sex in one of the rooms upstairs like how she was last time. coriolanus likes to think opening that door to that sight was something out of a horror movie.
he does find a different brunette, though, with more golden tones and curlier hair.
festus creed, of fucking course creed is here. he was another one of the other well known dealers in the area. he wasn’t that well with his sells, mostly because he acts like he’s above everyone else in the worst way possible, and even allows people to pay with sex.
coriolanus heard his sex is never good.
funny, isn’t it? how someone with a small dick and hardly any skills on pleasing women would offer sex as payment.
coriolanus, at least, thinks it’s hilarious.
what he doesn’t think is hilarious, though, is that festus is talking to someone coriolanus is far too familiar with. glittery eye makeup, a lacy bow in their hair, baby pink dress.. it’s you.
coriolanus’ mouth runs dry when you spot him in the corner of your eye, your lips twisting into a sugar - coated grin as soon as your eyes widen, “snow!”
you immediately move to give him a hug, festus’ searing gaze following your every movement in the creepiest way possible— god, coriolanus hates him. his fingers lace around your waist, tugging you close, “hey, princess.”
“princess?” festus snickers.
coriolanus tries to ignore him, but he finds it near impossible with the words that leave your lips next, “this is festus, my friend, do you know him?”
coriolanus scoffs, does he know him, what a joke, “i know of him.”
festus finds himself chuckling bitterly, “is that right, pretty boy?”
coriolanus takes a step, and you feel a certain mold of metal against your waist when he does, a gun, his cold lips part, “sure is.”
your eyes roam over his features, the curves of his skin when his brows collide, the way his eyes darken with malice, the grit of his sharp teeth, the flush of his jaw against his flesh as he moves it. his muscles flex underneath his baggy band t - shirt, veins pulsing. he was angry.
festus’ lips part, but you speak before him, “snow?”
his head nods in your direction, but he doesn’t say anything.
“answer your girl, snow,” festus taunts.
“go upstairs,” he mumbles, it’s to you.
so you do.
⊹˚. ౨ৎ
coriolanus sighs when he closes the door behind him, coming in mere minutes later. you had been sitting on the bed in the vacant room, fingers playing together, eyes glossed over in fear and pricking with tears. coriolanus wasn’t the only one who carried, but you didn’t hear any shots, fortunately.
“kid’s such a fuckin’ asshole,” he mumbles, cracking his bruising knuckles, “he’s not sellin’ you shit, is he?”
“sometimes—“
“don’t buy from him anymore,” coriolanus pauses, swallowing, “he laces his shit sometimes.”
it was true, festus was messy with his work, he didn’t lace the products himself but the people that distributed them to him would, he was just too lazy to even notice.
“i’m sorry,” it comes out hushed, a mere whisper, but coriolanus’ ears pick up on it easily.
his tone is softer now, “why?”
“i didn’t know—“
“then don’t apologize,” his head tips to the side, sniffling the bubbling blood in his nose, he inhales, pupils wide as they roam your features. a glass tear raced down your pliant cheek, and he immediately moved to carefully wipe it away, “don’t cry, doll.”
you don’t say anything, merely melt into his touch. coriolanus isn’t good with affection, he’s hardly had any girlfriend before and if he has, they don’t last long due to his struggles with showing kindness. so it’s obvious the next word that leaves his mouth isn’t one born from honeysuckle, “cocaine?”
your lips move nervously, bottom lip tugging under your teeth as your mascara covered lashes move to his frost - bitten eyes, “do you have.. ecstasy?”
his lips drop to a frown, “why?”
your lips tremble when they part, cheeks heating under his touch, “my friends want to try it.”
“no,” he swallows, jaw ticking, “i’m not selling you that shit.”
“what? why not?”
“that shit is too dangerous,” he chuckles, albeit it’s bitterness, “i don’t want you around that, it’s trouble.”
“i’ve been good,” you reassure, hips swaying when you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him.
“have you, now?” his thumb is gently rubbing against your skin.
“i have, i promise,” you offer, feeling his fingers move so his thumb is now moving against your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth ever so slightly.
you smile around it and his pupils dilate even more, are his eyes blue anymore or merely just sole pupil? “naughty girl.”
then he stops, as if he had realized something, and pulled away. your lips curve downward to a frown, desperate to have his touch again, “snow?”
“don’t,” his molars collide, “i’ll hurt you.”
“that’s okay—“
“—i’m bad news—“
“—i don’t think that—“
“—i’m dangerous, doll.”
you hesitate, inhaling sharply, “but you won’t hurt me.”
he doesn’t say anything for a minute, “so, you want cocaine?”
you give him a careful nod, and he smiles. again, he’s being sweet.
“you know how to chop up cocaine?”
you allow yourself a giggle, “you know i don’t.”
“i’ll show you.”
and he does, his hand is gentle as it guides yours, fingers curling against the curve of your own as he crushes up the cocaine, guiding you to chop it up with the card he gave you. you’re warm underneath his cold touch, his movements experienced whilst yours are new. “how many times have you done this?”
he shrugs, breath fresh against the shell of your ear, “a couple hundred, for sure.”
“i could help you, you know, with the business,” you offer, despite not even really wanting to.
“no,” his fingers are tighter against your skin, but not enough to hurt, “i don’t want you in this business, you being around me is dangerous enough.”
“you’re not dangerous, snow,” you hush out.
he moves closer, and you feel his gun brush against your ass, lips curving into a smile, “you think so?”
you shiver from the touch, it’s loaded, the safety is probably off, “i know so.”
your thighs push together, he feels it, making him chuckle, “you’re so needy, princess.”
“snow,” you breathe out, “this isn’t fair.”
“how so?” he presses a soft kiss behind your ear, “just because you aren’t getting what you want?”
“do you want it?” you pause your movements.
“of course i do, i want it as much as you,” he moves your fingers so you drop the card, guiding them to his bulge, “‘m just not spoiled.”
you frown at his works, fingers curving around his bulge, god, how big was he? “‘m not spoiled either.”
“whatever you say, princess,” he grits out.
you palm him so well, it nearly has him rutting against your hand, breathing getting heavier against your ear. his fingers move to trail down down your back, dipping underneath the hem of your skirt and tracing along the thin material of your lace panties. his jaw shifts, “such a dirty girl, wearing these panties.”
you whimper when his fingers graze along the soaked part of your panties, thick fingers brushing against your clothed clit, “please— snow.”
“please what, princess?” you mumble something in response, but it’s nearly incoherent, more of a whimper, “use your words.”
he moves to pull your panties to the side, now touching your bare clit, making your thighs tremble, “i need— fuck, i need you— inside.”
he nods, pressing kisses along the side of your neck, finding himself already pussy - drunk. it almost felt sacrificial, a sinful man dipping his fingers inside of a goddess, the way you moaned at the feeling of his finger stretching you out— it was as if he could be confessing of his sins at any minute.
to see your hips bucking against his finger, his name hushed on the tip of your delicate tongue. didn’t you know that many people wanted him dead? how many people hated him? how the police could arrest him at any second? yet you didn’t care, a lamb to the slaughter, a deer in between the jaws of a wolf.
yet you were rutting against his hand, begging for more, desiring him to push another finger in— and he did exactly that, prepping your tight cunt for his cock, “you’re so fuckin’ tight, doll, i don’t know if it’ll fit.”
“it will— it will, i know it will—,” you’re just babbling nonsense at this point, and coriolanus wanted to be gentle, he really did, but your sweet moans, your sugary whimpers, the way he so easily pushed his fingers inside of you, the way that when you curl, your moans up a few octaves. you were so sensitive, god, were you a virgin?
the thought had coriolanus pulling his fingers out, twirling you around so he can push his fingers into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as his other hand undoes the belt holding his baggy jeans up. his eyes are crystalizing the memory of your tongue swirling against his fingers, sucking up every taste of your own cunt— have you thought of this as many times as he has?
he moves his hand to take his gun before it falls, placing it on the counter behind you, his fingers move from your mouth to help him push his jeans down, your lips part, “why do you have a gun?”
he smiles sweetly at your words, nearly chuckling, “why do you think?”
“‘m not sure, that’s why i asked,” you had a certain tinge in your voice that makes him quirk a brow.
“it’s to protect myself, princess,” he pushes his boxers down, finally freeing his cock, “now be a good girl, turn around, and bend over.”
of course you do exactly what he asks, bending over the counter so he can push your skirt up. the feeling of your innocence being stripped away right in front of you was far too good, like a cross ripped from the chain around your neck, or your holy water being unpurified. you were a cupcake with frosting on top, and coriolanus was sinking his teeth into you, rotting his sweet tooth.
his dick slaps against your heat when your legs part with desire, making you whine against nothing, “snow— please..”
“just say it, princess,” he moves to rub his red tip against your clit, making you shudder, knees buckling already.
“fuck me— f..fuck me,” you repeatedly beg.
he moves closer to press a sweet kiss on the back of your neck, bones colliding when his cock finally pushes into your cunt. you were so tight around him, squeezing him around your velvet walls. your jaw falls slack when you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, his lips pull tight together in a grunt, “so tight for me, princess— jesus christ..”
his breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. your fingers graze along the gun placed on the counter, right next to the cocaine. his tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”
“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the counter with the sheer snap of his hips. your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.
it’s so obscene, all of the things that he finds himself spitting out as he harshly bucks into you. so cute, jus’ wanna ruin you, takin’ my cock so well, that feel good princess? he can’t help the way his hands snake up to your hair, tugging at the pretty bow wrapped around it, earning a frosted moan from your glossed lips.
it’s not long until you’re cuming on his cock, with him pulling out to twirl you around and push you to your knees, allowing you to jerk him off until thick white stripes are decorating your face. the white glitter, the sweet scent of your lip - gloss, now accompanied by his cum.
how cute.
“so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbles as he tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulling his jeans back up when your painted nails move to wipe away the cum on your face, lapping it up with your pretty tongue.
you giggle sweetly, “do you do this with all your customers?”
he shakes his head, “no, doll, you’re special, you know that.”
and it’s true, you really were special.
you were a dangerous man’s doll.
5K notes · View notes
pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 2 months
Text
When They Give You the Silent Treatment as a Joke
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Bang Chan
Decides to give you the silent treatment as a joke, thinking it’ll be funny, since he saw it while scrolling through Instagram
Initially avoids making eye contact and gives only curt nods, completely engrossing himself in his work.
Notices you trying to get his attention but continues the act.
Feels a bit guilty but thinks you’ll laugh it off later.
Realizes the joke has gone too far when you start to tear up.
But he's too busy to notice you've actually started crying until Felix points it out.
Immediately drops the act and rushes to comfort you.
Apologizes profusely, explaining it was just a joke.
Holds you close and reassures you that he never meant to hurt you.
Promises to be more considerate in the future.
Spends extra time with you, making sure you’re okay. Completley forgetting about the work he was doing.
"Aw, baby I could never hate you. It was just a joke I saw it while looking for edits. I promise...you want to watch edits of me? ...But I'm right here?"
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Lee Know
Thinks the silent treatment will be a harmless joke. He got the idea from Jisung.
Acts - for lack of better phrase - like an utter bitch.
Is so in character he doesn't notice the way you've started fidgeting anxiously.
Or the way your bottom lip has started to tremble.
Realizes the joke has gone too far when hears you begin to cry.
Breaks character immediately, apologizing - which is saying something since its Minho - and explaining it was a joke.
Pins the blame on Jisung.
Spends the day doing small acts of kindness to make it up to you.
Constantly checks on you to ensure you’re feeling better, since it seems you've distanced yourself.
Vows to never participate in such pranks again.
Gives you a long hug, whispering apologies - which is how you know he is regretful since he's apologized more than once.
"It was Jisung's ideas. I'm sorry. I promise I won't ever listen to any of Jisung's stupid ideas ever again jagiya..."
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Changbin
Agrees to the prank since Felix had seen it on tiktok and thought it would be funny for both of them to do it since Felix was the second closest member to you besides your bf.
Keeps his distance and avoids talking to you, often just continuing conversations as if he hadn't heard you.
Feels a bit guilty but sticks to the prank.
Starts to worry when he sees you becoming increasingly upset.
Realizes the prank has gone too far when you start crying.
Immediately scoops you up into his arms and just lets you cry waiting for you to calm down
Felix is apologizing to you while he does this.
Takes the lead in making sure you know he’s genuinely sorry by clinging to you the rest of the day.
Talks 10x more than usual, ensuring you know he never meant to hurt you.
Brings you small gifts and treats to cheer you up.
Promises to communicate better in the future.
"I'm sorry baby...I was being dumb I promise I won't do that ever again."
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Hyunjin
Thinks you'll act dramtically so he agrees.
Avoids interacting with you, keeping a straight face.
Is a bit confused when you just stalk off.
Starts to feel uneasy when you've been gone a while.
Realizes the prank has gone too far when he sees you crying alone.
He goes to sit next to you and apologize.
But now you're giving him the silent treatment.
Insists on talking it out with you.
Goes out of his way to do thoughtful things for you until you finally talk to him.
Frequently checks in on you to make sure you’re feeling better.
Promises to be more considerate in the future.
"Ya jagiiiiiiiiiiyyaaaaaaaa...talk to meeeeeeee...please? It was a joke. Jagiiiiiiiiiiiii!"
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Han
A little skeptical at first since he thinks you'll be anxious and overthink since thats how he would react.
But after the guys show him a bunch of different and amusing reactions he concedes.
Finds it amusing at first
Feels a twinge of guilt when you start looking upset.
He gets extremely anxious seeing tap your knee and fidget.
Oh boy he see's your tears welling up.
Breaks down first, apologizing and explaining it was a joke before you even have a chance to start fully crying.
Tries to make you laugh with jokes and silly antics to cheer you up.
Clings to you like a spider monkey. He needs to be resting against you in some way shape or form.
Brings you little gifts and snacks as a way of saying sorry and to make himself feel a little better.
Oh the amount of kisses he is giving you just to make sure you know he is sorry and he loves you.
"Baby stop squirming. There is no such thing as too many kisses. Let me kiss youuuu!!!"
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Felix
Hesitantly agrees to the prank, worried it might go too far.
Plays along, giving you the silent treatment but feeling guilty the entire time.
Starts to worry as you look more hurt and confused.
Realizes the prank has gone too far when you start crying.
He doesn't listen to the guys when they say to let it go on a bit longer.
Apologizes profusely.
Just lets you rest in his arms until you fall asleep and stays in the same position until you wake up from your sad boi hour nap.
Bakes your favorite treats as an apology.
For the rest of the day he makes sure he's always talking to you about something and explains it was a joke ever five minutes.
Acknowledges he thought it was a bad idea to begin with.
"I didn't want to. I hate seeing you sad, I'm sorry angel. If you forgive me than at least finish your brownie."
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Seungmin
Agrees to the prank since he thinks you'll be able to handle it. And its not like he is the most talkative person; maybe you won't even notice.
Oh but you do notice. And this is making your already bad day even worse.
Keeps a straight face, giving you the cold shoulder.
Wonders slightly why you have haven't jokingly scolded or insulted him yet
Realized its because you're in the kitchen crying.
Breaks character, and gives you a hug.
Its not until you push him away does he apologize.
You're still a little upset, so he makes it up to you by taking you out on a date.
Tries to make it up to you with small acts of kindness throughout your date as well.
Only asks once or twice if you're still mad at him.
Realizes you're not when you lovingly insult him about something during your dinner.
Secretly promises to be more considerate in the future, because he doesn't want to verbalize that to you.
I probably shouldn't do this again...even if Y/N does look cute when they cry...
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Jeongin
All of the members try to convince him not to do this prank.
Doesn't listen at all.
Avoids talking to you, keeping a straight face, even when you helplessly pull at his shirt sleeves.
Starts feeling guilty as you look more hurt, but it adamant about proving to his hyungs that he wasn't in the wrong for pulling this prank.
Realizes he was oh so wrong when he see's you clinging to Chan crying.
Chan is the one who makes I.N. apologize.
He apologizes immediately, and gets an earful from Minho who has a soft spot for you.
But now he feels so bad and doesn't feel like talking out of guilt and shame from being scolded.
So now the rest of the guys are cheering up both their babies.
Just pouts sadly while cuddling you.
Once you guys are back to normal you make him promise to listen to his hyungs.
"I promise I'll listen to them next time...but...wasn't it kinda nice for them to baby both of us?"
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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha
@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric
@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee
@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin
@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun
@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael
@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads
@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld
@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9
@minsungsthirdwheel
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incognit0slut · 2 months
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PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4
Behind Closed Doors 4
Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.
Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words
A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinn😔 anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i don’t even know how long it will be but let’s just celebrate that I’m finally updating)
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All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault—but you weren’t in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.
The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with him—or maybe sneak in a little make-out session—something urgent would come up. 
There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.
This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.
How did he manage to do that? He wasn’t even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You weren’t proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.
You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.
Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you weren’t in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, “Hey.”
There was a pause, then a sigh. “You’re mad at me.”
Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”
“I can almost see you rolling your eyes.”
“I never roll my eyes,” you shot back.
“You rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.”
You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. “That was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.”
"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"
“Honestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
"So you are mad,” he stated, growing quiet for a while. “I’m sorry.”
And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. “It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any less better.”
You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didn’t come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadn’t heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.
How could you be upset about that?
"I'm not... mad.”
There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"
You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."
“Anything I can do to help with that?” His voice softened through the phone. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”
Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you? 
"I don’t know, depends on what you have in mind,” you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.
"I could… start by telling you how much I miss you?”
Now that, you didn’t expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.
Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didn’t stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.
"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.
“You know that’s not true,” he replied gently.
“Do I?”
“Yes, you know me better than that,” he insisted. “You’re a great profiler, you can tell if I’m not being honest.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.”
"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.”
“You know I’d rather you tell me how you feel.”
“I did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.”
Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldn’t help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. “Fine,” you sighed, finally giving in. “I believe you.”
“And?”
You rolled onto your side. “And what?”
“Do you not miss my absence at work?”
“Well…”
“Well?” He prompted.
Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongue—oh dear god, his tongue.
Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.
“Yes, I—I miss you,” you finally admitted.
There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. “Why do you sound like that?”
“…like what?”
“Like you’re out of breath.”
You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times you’d replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, he’d never let you live it down.
It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. “It’s just… I really, really miss you.”
“You really miss me? Are you trying to say something?”
You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. “No…?”
“Mhm,” he replied, clearly unconvinced. “You’re not telling me everything.”
You gripped the phone tighter. “I’m just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.”
“In every way?”
You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. “I just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.”
“Physically?” he pressed. “Can you elaborate?”
“I’m... you know, I’ve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.”
“Certain activities,” he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. “You mean like... talking?”
“No. More like... the other stuff we do when we’re alone.”
"I don't understand."
At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. “God, Spencer, don’t make me say it,” you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.
“Come on, I need a little more than that.” He sounded both amused and curious. “I’m just making sure I understand you right.”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.
“Actually, I don’t think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.”
You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. “Spencer…”
"Yes?" he responded innocently.
"You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
"I find precise communication to be very important.”
You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. “Alright! Fine!” you snapped. “I’m horny, okay? And it’s all your fault!”
His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. “My fault?"
"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I just…”
You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.
He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."
You could, but you’d rather not.
"I didn't want to sound desperate."
"You can be desperate with me,” he said softly. “Just say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.”
If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldn’t be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.
“Tell me, what do you want now?”
You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.
“I want… you.”
“Tell me how you want me.”
Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. “Spencer…”
“Come on,” he pressed. “Tell me.”
You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.
Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.
Your hand began to move.
“I… I want your hands on me.”
“Where do you want my hands?”
“Everywhere,” you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.
“Everywhere?”
You found yourself nodding even though he couldn’t see you.
“On my hips…”
Your hand danced across your hips.
“My stomach…”
Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.
“Between my thighs…”
You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathing—a soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.
“Where else do you want me?”
Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. “I want you lower…”
“Tell me exactly where.”
“Where I’m most sensitive,” you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them.  Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. “Spencer… please…”
“Are you touching yourself?”
“I…”
“Are you?”
“No…”
“Do you want to touch yourself?”
You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. “Maybe.”
“Then do it, no one’s stopping you.”
You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldn’t believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.”
"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. It’s just you and me.”
There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around you—smooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.
“Spencer…” you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.
“Keep going,” he urged. “Tell me what you feel.”
You closed your eyes. “It feels… good…”
“Describe it to me.”
You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. “It’s warm and wet… and…”
And you wished he was the one touching you.
You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.
Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. “Can I… can I take my, um, underwear off?”
You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, “Of course you can.”
You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.
“Better?”
You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. “So much better.”
“Keep it slow, okay? We don’t want to rush.”
His voice was low and soothing, and you couldn’t believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.
“Now press a little harder.” You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"
"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.
“I wish I could see you right now," he murmured. “I'd kiss you where you're touching.”
You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.
The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. “Spencer…”
"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. “Now slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?”
You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencer—the last person you’d imagine doing this with.
Yet look at how much effect he had on you.
"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"
"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."
"In a good way, I hope?"
“Very good,” you assured him.
You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. “Good,” he recited. “Now try adding another finger.”
You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.
"How does that feel?"
"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.
“Yeah? I bet you’re so tight.”
You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.
“Spence…” you whined. “Keep talking, please.”
“You want me to describe how I’d touch you if I were there?”
You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.
“If I were there,” he began, his voice low, “I’d start by kissing you slowly.”
You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.
“I’d move lower,” he continued. “Kiss your neck, your collarbone… while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.”
You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.
“I’d tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,” he whispered. “Then, I’d slip them inside you, just like you’re doing now.”
Your breaths came in short gasps.
“I’d spread your legs wide,” he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. “I’d move my fingers in… and… out...”
Your legs fell further apart.
“I’d curl my fingers the same way I did that day,” he went on. “Do you remember?”
How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.
“I’d do the same thing that you like,” he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. “I’d lean in close… licking you… sucking you.”
You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.
“Go faster for me,” he urged. “I-I want to hear how wet you are.”
You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.
“You make the prettiest sounds,” he breathed out. “Now add another finger.”
Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. “I-I can’t.”
“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed. “Just take it slow. Try to relax.”
You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.
“Oh, fuck.”
“There you go,” he encouraged. “Feel that? Feel how full you are?”
You hummed a reply.
“That’s how I want you to feel when I’m finally inside you.”
A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.
“Push deeper for me… I know you can take it.”
You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. “I can’t… I need… oh…”
“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You need more. You need me inside you, don’t you?”
“Spencer, please…” you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.
“You want that? You want to feel me stretch you?”
“Yes, yes…” you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.
“God, you’d be so tight around me… I’d have your legs spread wide so I… I-I could see how perfect you’d take me.”
You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.
“You’d pull me closer, wouldn’t you? You’d ask for more, like you always do, and I’d give it to you,” he promised. “I’d give it to you so hard… s-so deep…”
And that was when you heard it—the unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, “Spence, are you…?”
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. “I… yeah,” he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"
Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, “Tell me what you’re doing.”
His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. “I’m… I’m touching myself…”
You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. “Tell me more.”
“I’m… I’m rubbing… my fingers over the head,” he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your hand—the weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.
Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, “Can you lower your phone?”
You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. “Like this?”
“God, yes,” he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. “You sound so perfect.”
You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.
“I—f-faster, please,” he panted into the phone. “I need you to go faster.”
Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didn’t have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.
"Oh—fuck!” You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. “I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming—”
With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
“Spencer… oh, God, Spencer…”
The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.
Finally, when you couldn’t take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.
“You’re… laughing?” He mused. “Should I be concerned?”
“No, no,” you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “It’s just… I can’t believe we did that.”
A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"
You liked it a lot. "Can’t say that I didn’t.”
"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"
You let out a soft, contented sigh. “I wasn’t even that mad to begin with. Just… frustrated,” you confessed. “But I think we handled that pretty well.”
“Maybe a little too well,” he agreed softly. “I can't believe I need to take a shower this late.”
You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't small—it spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. “Uh, yeah,” you admitted with a nervous laugh. “I also need to change my sheets.”
Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.
“What?”
“It’s just…” He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."
"Isn't that what you've been doing?"
"Well, yes, but now it's… different."
You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"
"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."
A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. “Is this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?” you taunted. “I mean, I’m simply stating the facts.”
“But you’re painting a picture in my head.”
“Of me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?”
He made a low, strained sound. “Stop.”
“I can send you a picture if you like,” you offered slyly. “Help you visualize it better.”
There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, “You shouldn’t.”
“You’re right, I shouldn’t.”
“But if you insist…”
You laughed softly. “Good night, Spencer.”
“Wait—You’re hanging up?”
“Yep,” you said cheerfully. “I thought you needed a shower.”
He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. “Fine, fine. Good night.”
And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to do—how it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.
But when your mind kept circling back to Spencer—Spencer’s breathless voice, Spencer’s prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bed—it was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.
It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.
“Yes, Spencer?” you answered, trying to sound innocent.
You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.
“How do I turn this into video call again?”
1K notes · View notes
thebearer · 5 months
Text
nothing in the world belongs to me |carmen berzatto x reader|
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prompt: still new in your relationship, you show up to the bear for dinner unexpectedly, surprising carmen and the others.
based off this prompt from the other day :)
contains: fluff lol. really, it's just fluff. established-ish relationship (the others don't know). carmen being a little nervous and possessive but mainly cute <3 language.
“Alright, listen up,” Richie stood next to Sydney, flicking through the piles of tickets that were ringing through by the second. It was normal now, an expected task in their routine. “We need to walk the focaccia to table seven, please.” 
“Yes, Chef!” A chorus of nearly robotic voices rose from the sizzling hiss of the lamb searing in Carmen’s pan, lifting the spatula to tip the meat over, before giving it back to the chef on the line. 
“And for table nine, we’ve got a shellfish allergy, alright? So let’s triple check the cross contamination on that. T, can you handle that one?” Richie moved from his leather bound book of notes back to the ticket. 
“Yes, Chef!” Tina chimed, pulling a freshly washed pan, filling it with the veal stock. 
“Table nine, is that- that’s the senator?” Carmen turned to Richie, tasting the roux bubbling on Victoria’s station, giving her a curt nod of approval. 
“No, that’s table eleven.” Richie hummed, looking back at his notebook. “Nine, is… a birthday. Booked online.” Carmen had already begun to drone him out, mind racing with a million other things as Richie listed the guests name. Until he got to one. 
The name Carmen was sure he was hallucinating. The name no one knew- How would they know? How could they possibly know your name? 
You and Carmen had been seeing each other for a little while. A few weeks that were slowly turning into months. A casual thing that was slowly turning more serious. Dates and meetups are becoming more frequent. You’d even invited him over to your place a few times, he’d spent the night last week. 
Still, Carmen hadn’t managed to tell anyone. Selfishly, he liked that you were all his for now. Privacy was not guaranteed in the Berzatto house, in Carmen’s life still. He knew they meant well, they always did- he knew it wasn’t purposeful, the intrusion that almost always led to a demise. Carmen wasn’t ready for it, not yet, he still wanted you all to himself. 
“Carmen?” Sydney’s voice pulled him out of his panicked trance. “Chef, are you- are you good?” Her voice lilted with that familiar suspicious quip, the one always accompanied with her lifted brows. 
“What?” Carmen blinked, hands buzzing, heart thumping. He could see the window, Richie’s frame blocking most of it. “Sorry, yeah- yeah, I’m good, Chef.” 
Sydney watched him carefully, a slow nod before she continued calling out orders. Carmen could feel Richie’s eyes on him, narrowed with curiosity. Carmen tried to be nonchalant, crossing the kitchen back towards Tina, his eyes cutting carefully, looking out the window. 
There you were. 
Sitting pretty at the middle table, surrounded by friends, some Carmen recognized from your Instagram. He’d actually logged in to the app, looked you up after the first date, consumed every photo of yours in the dark of his room. Cheeks burning with excited heat, stomach fluttering in a way he hadn’t felt since junior high. 
“Alright, walk five salads to nine.” Sydney called out. “Where’s our runners? God, Richie, can you run-” 
“-I got it.” Carmen called, the urgency in his tone making Tina jump behind him. Carmen took the tray before Gary could, his hands shaking as he lifted it. 
“Cousin, I can get it.” Richie frowned. 
“No, I-I got it.” Carmen nodded, swallowing down his fluttering nerves. His eyes cut to your table through the window, heart skipping when he saw you. “I got it. I’ll be- I’ll just be a second.” 
“I don’t- I can’t even handle that one right now.” Sydney sighed in exasperation. “Alright, Chefs. Let’s get back on track.” She announced, shaking her head. Richie frowned, pulling out his phone. 
Sugar’s cell buzzed against the hostess stand, excusing herself to check it. 
From: Richie 
‘Look at table nine.’ 
Sugar huffed. 
To: Richie 
‘Why? Is there something wrong?’ 
She stepped back, casually turning to scan the room, eyes landing on the table. A small group of girls, younger, and amongst them- Carmen? 
To: Richie 
‘Is something wrong with the food? Do I need to comp it?’ 
From: Richie 
‘No. Cousin wanted to go out there.’ 
Sugar frowned, angling her body behind the large plant near the front as casually as she could. She watched through the leaves as Carmen passed out the salads, each girl grinning widely, but their eyes always cut to one on the end. 
Carmen saved your salad for last, hoping the lowlights of the restaurant would hide his boyish blush, setting the bowl in front of you carefully. “Hey,” 
“Hi,” You smiled sheepishly, looking to meet his gaze. “Everything looks so good.” 
“Yeah? Thanks.” Carmen nodded. “I-I didn’t know you were comin’ tonight.” 
“I’m sorry.” You cringed softly, embarrassed heat flooding through your veins. You knew better, knew you shouldn’t have done this- showed up at his restaurant unannounced. 
“I, uh, it’s my friend’s birthday.” You nodded towards Alicia at the end of the table. “And I was telling them about that pasta you made me, and they really wanted to come try it.” Your nerves bubbled, rambling in nervous peals that seemed to pour out before you could stop them.  
“Yeah, no, that’s really nice. Thank you.” Carmen nodded, giving a half smile to your friends, hoping they didn’t see the way he wiped his clammy hands on his apron. “Why didn’t- Why didn’t you just call me? Tell me you were comin’ in.” 
“I didn’t want to bother you.” You muttered softly. “I honestly didn’t think you’d even see us here, I swear. I didn’t mean to bother you or anything-” 
“-You’re not bothering me.” Carmen’s voice dropped to a coo, accompanied with a soft smile that had your head spinning. “Never a bother, but, uh, next time? Bother me, ok? Wanna make sure you get the best seat in the house.” 
Your cheeks flushed with heat, your friends excited giggles only intensifying the rushing heat blanketing over your body. Carmen’s own cheeks heated, tongue rolling on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 
“Alright?” Carmen added, and in a complete act of shocking boldness, his hand squeezed your shoulder affectionately. A small gesture on the outside, but for Carmen, it was huge. 
“Alright.” You grinned, leaning into his touch, your hands sliding over his. 
“How’s everything so far?” Carmen turned to the table, nodding at the excited gushes of compliments, not missing the way your friends cut their eyes to you with animated glee. 
“Just let me know if you need anything, ok?” Carmen turned to you.
“I will.” You nodded, starry eyed with love sick affection. 
“Good. I’ll see you before you leave, alright?” Carmen muttered, ducking down towards you. His lips brushed over your cheek, your perfume clouding his senses. “You’re not botherin’ me. ‘M glad you’re here.” 
Your cheek pressed to his, a gentle, affectionate rub before Carmen parted. Both of your features painted with shy delight. 
Carmen could feel everyone’s eyes, through flickering gazes and lifted brows. Sydney’s gaze lingering over him skeptically, still counting tickets. Fak’s wide grin from the corner, loading trays to take out. 
“Hey, uh, Marcus.” Carmen ignored Richie’s raised brows, a teasing, questioning remark on the tip of his tongue. 
“Yes, Chef?” Marcus muttered, looking up from the cannolis he was garnishing. 
“Table nine has a birthday. I was thinkin’ maybe the chocolate ganache, punch it with the little circle to make it look like a cake. Add a candle?” Carmen muttered, hand rubbing across his face. 
“Yeah, Chef, I can do that.” Marcus nodded. 
“Thank you.” Carmen nodded. “And Chef? Let me know when it’s ready before you walk it.” 
Marcus frowned. “No, it’s not- I just wanna walk it, ok?” Carmen shook his head. 
“Alright.” Marcus nodded slowly. “Heard, Chef.” 
Richie smirked, leaning against the stainless steel table. “So,” Richie hummed. “There a complaint or somethin’? Need me to go talk to ‘em-” 
“-No,” Carmen snapped, the possessiveness in his tone startling the both of them. “Sorry, it’s- No, I-I don’t need you to do that, Chef. Everything’s good.” 
Richie nodded slowly, passing the dishes to Gary with a nod. “You gonna tell me what that was about?” 
“No, Chef.” Carmen clipped, an edge to his tone that was teetering on annoyed. “But, uh, there’s not gonna be a check on table nine.” 
“What?” Richie frowned. “Did you mess somethin’ up? Seriously, Cousin, if something's wrong it’s my job to know-” 
“-No, it’s not-.” Carmen huffed, eyes pinching closed, running a hand over his face in frustration. “Look, that’s… The girl on the end? I-I’ve been kinda seein’ her, ya know?” He muttered. 
Richie gawked, blinking in disbelief. “No shit.” He grinned. “No shit? You-You’re serious?” He turned to look out the window. 
“Don’t fuckin’ look.” Carmen hissed. “Look, it-it’s not a big deal, alright? Just don’t-don’t say anything o-or do anything.” 
Richie swallowed back a teasing remark, a reactive reaction from years of being with Mikey. How the two of them used to tease Carmen endlessly, until they were fighting on the front lawn, Mikey howling with laughter while Carmen was red faced with mortified anger. 
This time, Richie held back. He wasn’t sure why, call it divine intervention, a gut feeling maybe, but it felt different this time. 
“Alright.” Richie nodded slowly. “No ticket for nine. Heard.” 
Carmen’s foot tapped anxiously. “I mean, right? Th-That’s what I should do right?” Carmen looked over his shoulder out the window. “That would be shitty to give her a check? Be a complete jagoff move to charge her?” 
“Yeah,” Richie scoffed lightly. “Jagoff of the fuckin’ year. Makin’ your girl pay to come to your place.” 
Carmen’s heart swelled at the term- your girl. His girl. You were his girl. 
“Walk four Pappardelle to nine. Walk one Pappardelle vegetarian style to nine.” Sydney called. 
Carmen dipped the spoon in the glaze, garnishing the plate before sliding it towards Sydney. “So, you gonna take these out?” He muttered. 
“No,” Carmen huffed. “Gonna wait until the cake.” 
“Yeah, good idea, Cousin.” Richie nodded with a proud smile. “That when you’re gonna tell them no check tonight?” 
“No,” Carmen shook his head. “I don’t- It would feel weird comin’ from me.” He looked up at Richie. “I was gonna let you do it.” 
“Yeah, I can handle that.” Richie smirked. “And I won’t say anything, Cousin.” He stopped Carmen before he could say it. “I got you, Cousin. I won’t fuck it up, alright?” 
Carmen nodded slowly, a strangled thank you on the tip of his tongue. The door swung open behind Richie, and for a second, Carmen caught a glimpse of you. Smiling and laughing, leaned in over the table, no doubt giggling with your friends about him. Carmen’s heart squeezed, but this time, without fear. No, there was no dooming fear that you were mocking him, making fun of him. This time, he felt the content rush of adrenaline filled love. A change in his routine, yes. Unexpected, sure, but he was glad for it. Glad that you were there- here, with him.
3K notes · View notes
qwimchii · 1 year
Note
i was hoping to put forward a request, if that’s okay? 👉🏻👈🏻 angst (or hurt/comfort?) and smut with ghost? and i’m totally not projecting here but — reader has a hard time finishing, either by themselves or with someone? and when they’re with someone, they get so worried about taking too long and not being able to finish or even feeling good and they apologize for taking too long and it dissolves into them crying and apologizing more and mentioning how they think they’re broken and there’s something wrong with them and it kinda makes them think ghost will leave for someone else because that’s what everyone else has done and basically just ghost being soft and sweet and understanding and taking his time with reassurance and praise and yeah… gonna go hide now 🥲
𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺
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𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5k
𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘴, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥…
note: omllllll!!!! 💞 i am so sorry for taking so long to write this request but this is so sweet and cute 😭 thank you sm for requesting!! ><
pt 2, pt 3
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Simon Riley had been your boyfriend for maybe a month now. or maybe two weeks. or maybe three months, you decided finally, sipping your water with closed eyes, willing the frustrated bounce of your knee to settle.
of course, picking your head up and looking at the entrance of the restaurant one last time, that frustration redoubled, and you watched your knee bounce with a mind of its own.
setting the drink back on its coaster, you drew random patterns into the floral tablecloth with a pout. Simon had chosen this restaurant. Simon had initiated communication with you—mindblowing as it was—just last night when you were scrolling through instagram in bed. 
the notification had ballooned over a post of an old friend from college traveling in europe, and immediately, you had squealed, pressing your phone to your chest to stop the race of your thrumming heart. you made yourself count out two minutes—at least two, before you responded.
— Dinner tmrw at the diner on 6th ave?
— sure!! good to hear from you :))
— what time??
— 7.
it was curt, it was short, it was sweet, but it gave you all the motivation you needed to power through the day and weasel your way into the diner, earlier to the occasion than usual. now, it was half past seven. now, you were playing with the tablecloth of the booth and feeling stupid and sorry for yourself.
stupid because you had sorely missed Simon since he went radio silent for over a month. sorry for yourself because you had thought you were at least close enough for him to text you beforehand.
definitively, you knew you had met the brit five months ago when he moved into the empty apartment adjacent to your own. he crowded every entrance he stood in, so massive and hulking when the elevator doors that you startled with a squeak, dropping the cardboard box and all the items scattering out over the carpet floor.
you had flushed with embarrassment, whole body heating up as you scrambled to stuff all the items back into the box with a string of apologies. he had dropped to your side without a word, putting back a pair of socks, your old band t-shirt from high school, and tennis shoes that had gone gray with discoloration. he hadn’t even bothered to one-over your personal items, but you were scrambling for an explanation anyway.
“donations for vets,” you said with nervous laughter. “i donate every year.”
“vets?” he reiterated, and you looked up into his face, eyeing the black surgical mask on his face carefully, brown eyes a murky kind of gray-ish beneath blonde eyebrows and his hood drawn up above that. 
“mhmm,” you squeaked, suddenly wary of the stranger in front of you.
when he said nothing more, you asked him, “any veterans in the family?”
then he just stared at you and you blushed, feeling stupid for saying anything at all but—
“my grandfather,” he said slowly. “and my great grandfather.”
“nice,” you choked out, unsure what to say as you searched the carpet of the last of your remnants.
then, he added, “i’m in the military as well.”
just when you were about to bolt, intimidated by the sheer size of him and his eerie unfamiliar presence in your apartment complex, it was like he read your mind to introduce himself.
“Simon Riley. new neighbor.”
you nodded slowly, giving him your name back and edging your fingers under the cardboard box, heaving it up into your arms.
“nice to meet you,” you said, giving him a weak smile from over the top of the box. he tilted his head at you, eyes flitting from the box to you.
when a prolonged silence ensued, you turned on your heel and stepped toward the elevator before you jerked around again.
“thank you for your service,” you squeaked, scurrying toward the elevator and feeling awkward when he just watched you from the hallway. you waved as the doors closed, watching him slip his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 
with one long look, he turned and prowled down the hallway.
that was five months ago. two months later, after endless awkward encounters of wordless greetings with him, the plumbing in your bathroom sink had exploded, flooding the floor in a puddle of water and spraying over the front of your white dress.
in a panic, you went to your next door neighbor Simon who opened the door upon your third set of rapid knocks.
you looked up to his massive form in the entrance, suddenly aware of how the front of your soaked dress had become sheer when you asked him to help you. 
he helped. and then you asked him to get drinks at the bar around the corner as a thank you. then when that became a regular occurrence, things just got more confusing.
it felt exclusive. maybe. you thought it felt exclusive when a man approached you in the bar, gearing up for a casual conversation with a sly smirk, but Simon was always at your back in an instant, a large, warm hand on your waist and his words in your ear.
she’s taken.
your mind spun after the first time it happened. taken?
whirling around on your heel after the man left with a low grumble and scowl, Simon just blinked down at you from behind his surgical mask, squeezing your waist with both hands before he was sinking back down into his seat, hulking as he leaned over the bar.
when the same happened a few more times, you didn’t question it, thinking it was maybe just a perk of the friendship. he staves off a couple creepy men at the bar and you pay for drinks. 
or at least that’s how you thought it worked until he started sliding his card across the counter to the bartender to claim the tab before you could even get a word out.
you were especially confused when he knocked at your apartment door one night. you opened it to find him void of the hoodie usually slung up and over his head, blonde hair hanging down his forehead, and a black shirt in its place. that’s when you saw the thick black ink winding down the tattoo sleeve of his arm, and your eyes darted over it with a blush, before you were inviting him in.
he had smelled something baking, he clarified, craning his neck into the kitchen. that made you giddy because you hadn’t taken him for someone nosy, but you entertained it nonetheless, assuming he just had an insatiable sweet tooth for cookies.
another part of you hoped he just had a sweet tooth for you.
then the baking became a regular occurrence. you’d bake him all sorts of sweets while he watched you from the little table in your kitchen, staring from behind that black mask of his while you prattled about your day and he took it all in silently. somewhere along the way, after so many nights of him chewing behind the mask, he ditched it completely, and you could watch him devour your brownies in a few bites without the annoying fabric in the way.
the new schedule had become very regular until it was baking night and he didn’t show up to your door. rolling the tenseness from your shoulders, you sent him a quick text, saying you would bring over the sweets in the morning to his apartment.
when he didn’t respond to that, a little nervous bubble of anxiety rooted in your chest. you found out from your landlord days later that Simon would be away for work, and that hurt more than you wanted it to. if he had taken the time to at least notify your landlord, he could’ve done the same for you… couldn’t he?
unless he didn’t think about you that way. but you were so sure—from the quick glances you shared, his gentle touches as he brushed past you in your kitchen, or the possessive grip on your waist at the bar, or just the way he was so relaxed around you meant something.
those were your thoughts that ran in circles as you sat at the diner booth. the waiter checked on your table every once and a while, sending you nervous glances ever since you said that you had a date… or a friend. or something like that.
you felt stupid for accepting Simon’s proposal so quickly, even after he had ghosted you for weeks. even then, you had dolled yourself up anyways, picking out the new dress you got last weekend and doing your hair and makeup. you buried your face in your hands, not looking up when you heard the chime of the diner opening.
when you heard a familiar, low and grating accent, your head snapped up to see Simon standing by the entrance and talking to the waiter, gesturing to you as the waiter just nodded.
Simon strode over to you, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and dressed in his military fatigues, half his face behind in a black surgical mask.
you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you when you reached your senses, heart soaring as you scrambled to stand. your hands twitched against the table when he stopped in front of you, dropping his duffle bag to the floor.
had he come straight from the airport? for you? you felt like your mind was spinning, but you forced it to still, desperately not wanting to jump to any strange conclusions…
swallowing down your thoughts, you said slowly, “it’s been a while.”
looking up into his murky brown eyes had never been so comforting.
“it has,” he affirmed, hands clenching and unclenching by his sides.
for a long moment, you both just stood there in silence, staring at each other and unsure what to do.
eyes darting down to his torso, you could feel the warmth of his body in the close proximity, and you felt so tempted to just touch him.
you outstretched a hand to brush over his clothing, and when he didn’t move away, you pressed your knuckles into his abdomen, amazed to feel him solid and real. then you wrapped yourself around his torso, giving him a tight hug, cheek pressed against his strong chest.
immediately, he engulfed you, squeezing you back.
“missed you,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut.
you felt his nose press into the crown of your hair. “m’sorry m’late, love.” 
“s’fine,” you sniffled, feeling stupid when tears pricked up in your eyes. when you pulled back, you swiped at them with the back of your hand, startled when he reached forward to brush his fingers across your wet cheeks, squishing the chub of your face lightly.
he looked at you with such a softness that you almost melted, feeling nervous because you had never seen him look at you like that before.
then, as you both slid into the booth, you chided him in between sniffles, “don’t do that to me again.”
don’t leave me in the dark again, was what you meant, and you knew he understood what you meant when he nodded curtly.
the dinner went smoothly. more than you could imagine. or maybe you were just overwhelmed with the exhausting joy that Simon was still just the same since before he left two months ago—lowly grunted non-verbal responses as he munched on a platter of fish and chips, stealing a couple of your fries after he devoured his plate at a startling pace, and some rumbles of half-sentences, leaning on his elbow as he watched you ramble with excitement and sip on your milkshake every now and then.
when you accidentally got a smidge of whipped cream on your nose, he reached across the table to wipe it off, cutting through your words mid-sentence. you thanked him with a blush, shifting over the booth, just blushing harder when your shoes knocked against his under the table.
leaving felt smooth too—walking back to the apartment complex just a couple blocks away. even in the darkness of the night, you felt safe tucked near his side, enjoying his presence so close to your side and feeling disappointed when you reached the hallway you shared in the apartment complex.
he stopped by your door and you fumbled with your dress, struggling for words.
“come inside,” you offered, though it sounded more like a plea. your eyes flitted from his face to the duffle bag on his shoulder, hands twisting into the fabric of your dress.
“i know you must be tired but—”
“m’not,” he assured, squaring his shoulders. you nodded dumbly.
“i can bake brownies?” you squeaked, and he blinked down at you.
“s’reason why i’m here, love.”
at that you blushed, opening the apartment and throwing your jacket on the couch, moving to rifle through the kitchen.
“it won’t take long i promise,” you called from behind the fridge door, snatching the butter and eggs from it.
closing the door to turn to the counter, you jolted when Simon materialized beside you, boots, mask, and the jacket of his fatigues off, reaching above you to open a cabinet. your eyes darted over the ink designs of his muscled arm.
“flour and sugar’s here, right?” he asked, and you squeaked a yes, ducking beneath his arm to put the butter and eggs on the counter before grabbing a mixing bowl and baking pan from a lower cabinet.
once all the necessary items were strewn across the counter, you measured out the dry ingredients, dumping them into the mixing bowl. beside you, Simon leaned back against the edge of the kitchen sink, arms crossed as he watched you.
you were hyper-aware of his presence, hands jittery, confused because he always sat at the kitchen table to watch you. he never got this close and personal, uncrossing his arms to slide a hand over the counter right by where your hip leaned against it.
from your peripheral, you glanced at him, finding him already staring down at you.
“can i help?” he asked, voice gruff, and you turned your head to stare at him in dismay. this was new. very new.
“sure,” you choked out, scooting over so he could help you measure out the ingredients. he filled the space easily, arm pressed against yours in the little space.
you blushed. this was very very new.
he cracked an egg on the edge of the bowl, and you watched the yellow glop plop into the flour.
playing off the whole situation as a joke, you laughed nervously as you mixed the wet ingredients into the bowl. “miss my baking that much?”
you bit down on your lip, unable to look at him, just focusing on the churn of brown batter in the mixing bowl. when you felt him lean in, his strong bicep against yours, you muffled a yelp.
“‘course.”
“really?” you asked, pouring the batter into the greased up pan.
for good measure, you dipped a finger into the batter and tasted it, eyes flickering up to Simon. it was sweet.
he stared down at you, an imperceptible, dark look on his face as he leaned over and dipped his thumb into the batter, then swiped the gooey brown substance over your cheek.
“oops.” there was a smugness in his voice that his face smothered, expression blank when he gripped your jaw tight. 
you gasped when he turned your face and leaned down to lick you.
the textured muscle of his tongue pressed into the curve of your flesh, licking away the sweet taste from your cheek.
then, he leaned back with a hum. “i like sweet things.”
you clutched at his wrist keeping your jaw firmly in place, wide-eyed and heart beating out of your chest. you watched his finger dip back in the batter and reached up to your lips, spreading the sugary sweet batter over your lower lip.
you squeaked, unable to look anywhere but his bare face, rugged and handsome in the low light.
“may i?” he asked, eyes flitting down to your lips, and you couldn’t even nod in his hold, just a low, breathy yes on your lips that he swallowed, tongue sucking the traces of batter on your lips. 
you whimpered into his mouth, clutching at his shirt as he angled your head with a soft touch, sliding his hand on your jaw to your neck, just resting there. that spurred on a familiar burn in your stomach, and you squirmed in his hold.
when he leaned back, you were breathless and panting with flushed cheeks.
“sweet,” he rasped, like he was approving the taste as he licked over his lips.
from that point on, you didn’t really remember how you got to your bedroom, Simon’s hands edging up the hem of your dress beneath him, knuckles drawing a warm trail up to your hips as he sucked on the skin of your neck.
the only thing you could do was whine and squirm under his weight, legs and arms pinning you down as he did what he liked, giving you sweet kisses that made you feel all hazy.
you watched his head dip beneath the fabric of your dress and you gasped when you felt his lips against your thighs, skipping where you needed him most, and then against your stomach and the flesh of your breasts.
and all throughout the pleasurable haze, your fingers curled into the sheets, nails digging into the bed because you were beyond nervous.
you knew this would happen eventually—that Simon would end up in your bed or the other way around. kissing him was a dream. having him caging you against the bed with his heady weight was a dream.
sliding a hand over his back, his rushed movements slowed against your skin, taking the time to suck carefully around your pebbled nipples that had your hips bucking up with a whimper.
your mind spun. but you were so nervous.
it was all you could think about as he descended back down between your thighs, both of his big arms curling around your thighs to lock you in place against the bed.
words rung your mind loud and clear—what the hell is wrong with you?
when Simon dipped a thumb beneath the top of your panties, the words shook you again.
what the hell is wrong with you?
you hadn’t even noticed how still and quiet you had grown until his head perked up between your thighs, pupils blown wide. he swiped a thumb over the soaking entrance of your panties, drawing a whimper from your throat.
“what is it?” he asked, voice so throaty and rough that you shivered with want. you had wanted this for so long.
“nothing,” you whispered, tugging his head back down between your thighs, but he didn’t budge, frowning at you.
“tell me,” he probed, “m’not touchin’ you if you don’t, sweet thing.”
sweet thing.
swallowing hard, you shifted against the bed. “m’just nervous.”
“yeah?” he stroked the plush, soft skin of your inner thigh, before pressing his lips to it. “don’t worry. i’ll make you feel good.”
you nodded, biting down on your lip, though his words didn’t quell any of the raging anxiety thrumming within your chest, even when he kissed the wet fabric stretched over your cunt, nosing through your folds and his hot breath against you.
lifting up your hips with ease, he tugged a pillow beneath you.
“comfy?” he asked, hooking two fingers beneath your panties and sliding it down your thighs.
“uh-huh,” you gasped, back arching when he ducked between your legs and pressed the pink muscle of his tongue flat against your cunt.
“good,” he grunted against you, pecking your swollen clit before swirling his tongue around it, and building a steady, delicious pace that had you hiccuping moans.
your hands snaked through his hair, gripping the blonde curls tight and pulling, startling when he groaned in response, the tremors going straight from the back of his throat and into your clit.
you ground against his face and he purred in approval. “tha’s it, sweet thing.” 
you took the pleasure and rode it, pushing yourself further and further to the edge, or at least you thought you were, seeing no end in sight for the sensations wracking your body. every passing moment felt too long, and you could practically feel the irritation roiling off Simon in waves.
even though you couldn’t see his face, just could hear his soft noises of approval against your cunt, it was like you knew he was growing impatient.
frustrated, you huffed a whine, that anxiety in your chest squashing half the pleasurable experience. he reached up and pressed down on the lower part of your tummy, intensifying it all over again, making you gasp as your head fell back.
“relax,” he mumbled, playing with your clit as he pressed his tongue into your cunt, humming as he tasted you.
it was overwhelming. too overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the tears that pricked up in your eyes as you were torn between finishing and feeling good and pleasing Simon and—
a little sob broke from your throat, and he went still between your legs.
you covered your face with your hands, digging your palms into your eyes and muffled the sounds falling from your lips.
why were you crying?
brows pinched together, you scrunched up your face. “sorry, sorry, just keep going—”
you cut off when a sob choked your throat, refusing to look at Simon and withering when he stayed silent, feeling really fucking stupid as you just cried in the bed.
“i don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimpered, feeling him tug your dress back down over your thighs and hike your panties back up your hips.
you expected him to leave, ready to feel the weight of him against you on the bed disappear, and his heavy footsteps through the apartment, then the slam of the door behind him.
and you did—the dip in the bed lifted and you heard his footsteps edge around the bed.
then, you gasped when he slid into the bed beside you, arm circling beneath your waist and pulling you flush to his chest, breath right against your ear.
“what’s wrong, sweet thing?” he sighed, though it didn’t sound irritated, just tired as he sunk into the bed beside you.
your breath stilled, the cries dying in your throat as you twisted to look back at him. his gaze was soft as he peered over your shoulder, squeezing you between both arms.
“what?” you croaked, and he leaned over you to press a kiss to your cheek, squishing you into the bed.
“what’s wrong?” he repeated, thumb drawing circles against your clothed tummy.
“nothing,” you said, and he made a low noise of disapproval, pressing his face against the side of your head.
clutching at his arms holding your waist, caging you to him, you choked out the words. 
“i just…” you turned your head from him, tears spilling from your eyes and onto the sheets. “i wanna be good for you.”
he hummed against your ear, squeezing you tighter. “you are so good for me, love.”
“no, i meant…” you huffed, sniffling with a frustrated sound in the back of your throat.
“i take too long,” you squeaked, avoiding his eyes. “there’s something wrong with me.”
a sob pierced your chest. “i think i’m broken.”
you turned in his arms and buried your face in his chest, embarrassed as you soaked his shirt with tears, muffled the sharp noises of your throat against his solid body. he curled around you, hand rubbing down your back.
“who put those ideas in your pretty head?”
his voice was deceptively soft, though you heard the threat that lay under it, and you shivered.
“my ex boyfriend.”
his body went tense against you.
“look at me luvie.”
you lifted your head and let him kiss you, tasting salty and sweet from the slick of you still in his mouth, as he brushed away the tears on your face.
when he pulled back and you looked over the curves of his face, the depth of his dark eyes, you admitted to him softly, “i don’t want you to leave me.”
it was such a small whimper that you don’t think he would’ve heard you, but from the way his face crunched into a frown you knew that he had.
“m’not going anywhere,” he promised, pushing the hair from your forehead. “m’right here.”
you whimpered, pulling him back down for a kiss that was wet and hot, teeth knocking against yours when he pressed you further into the bed.
“lemme make you feel good,” he whispered, and you clutched at his arm wound tight around your waist, the other creeping up to cup your breast.
“please,” you whimpered, and he hummed into your lips.
“when’s the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, lips trailing down to your neck, his large hand edging down to brush over your pelvis.
“long time,” you squeaked, gasping when his hand snuck beneath your dress, rucking it up so it pooled around your waist.
“c-can’t do it myself,” you admitted, screwing your eyes shut when his fingers slipped beneath the band of your panties. “doesn’t feel good.”
“yeah? bet your ex couldn’t make you feel good either,” he mumbled, either to you or yourself you couldn’t tell, mind dizzy and somewhere up high when his forefinger gently brushed over the shell of your clit. “bet your he didn’t even know how to touch a woman. how to make her cum.”
you whimpered, hips bucking into his hand, and you could feel him smile against your neck.
“s’okay, baby. i’ll make you cum.”
his fingers circled your swollen clit, other hand fondling the sensitive plush of your tits. as you squirmed against his touch, little breathy noises leaving your lips, you could feel his hard cock pressing into the curve of your ass. you whimpered at the sheer size of it.
“please, Simon,” you gasped, clutching at his wrist as he played and flicked at your clit, speeding up then slowing down and dragging you through a slew of different body wracking sensations, leaving you so whiney and sensitive that your thighs started to shake and twitch.
your ex boyfriend had never given you so much attention like this—just honing in on his own pleasure, degrading you when you tried to chase your own. it became something you dreaded. something you didn’t want and forced yourself through, faking orgasms and artificial, pitched moans.
it was so different from Simon that you felt delirious, blissed out as real, loud whines broke through your throat, riding his hand just wanting more and more.
“more,” you sobbed, burying your face into the sheets, jolting when he played and pinched at your swollen nipples.
“want you to cum on my hand first, sweet thing,” he whispered, and you almost cried real tears.
he huffed a laugh into your ear.
“feel that good?” he cooed, and you nodded against the sheets, wiggling your hips in his hand.
“c-can’t,” you whined, shivering when he made a noise of disapproval.
“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty, licking over your ear. “i don’t care how long it takes, baby. i can play with this pretty cunt all night.”
you moaned, grinding down into his hand, eyes rolling back into your head as he abused your clit, crushing it beneath his fingers.
“you’re gonna cum on my hand, and then i’m gonna stretch you out with my fingers, yeah? then you’re gonna cum on my fingers, and i’m gonna fuck two more orgasms out of you. how does that sound, sweet thing?”
“Simon—” you choked, whole body going still when you finally reached a sharp peak, shaking and twitching and moaning softly through your whole orgasm that made you see a blinding white.
he groaned in your ear, so filled with pleasure it sounded like he came alongside you.
“there you go, baby, good girl. so good f’me.”
your hearing felt muffled when you resurfaced, blinking your eyes open, sleepy and muscles lax against the bed. he was petting at your naval, peppering little kisses and kitten licks along your neck and shoulders.
“see? that wasn’t so hard, luvie,” he whispered in your ear, making a shiver slither down your spine.
“mhmm,” was all you could get out, pliable as he slipped from your side and moved you to your back, tipping your knees open as he dove between your legs.
you looked down, watching him drink up the cum from your pussy, slurping loudly and sucking on your twitchy clit, your hips squirming in his hold. 
“so sweet,” he practically growled, and you whined in response, trying to push his head away.
when he finally relented, he sat back, licking over his lips before tugging the shirt over his head. in the dim lighting, you could see scars littered over him, naval blessed with dark hair and a toned stomach that made your mouth water.
“think you can do that four more times, baby?”
when you shook your head, he only smirked, crawling back over you and pressing the crotch of his fatigues against your sopping pussy, grinding his painfully hard, big cock against your aching entrance.
“yes you can,” he said, low and throaty. “m’gonna make you, sweet thing. you’re gonna be coming on this cock all night long.”
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taglist: @ivybeeloved
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lovebugism · 6 months
Note
hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart
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✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]
summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)
pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader
tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3
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When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old. 
The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme. 
Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.
You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.
“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”
“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”
He most definitely hadn’t.
“What the hell— I brought booze!”
“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question. 
Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.
“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.
You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.
Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”
Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.
Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.
The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.
“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”
You swat his chest with a less than kind hand. 
“Ow!”
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”
“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.
You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.
“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.
The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”
“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.
“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”
“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.
“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.
“Oh… Okay…”
“What’s yours?”
You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”
“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.
“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.
Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.
You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.
“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.
“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”
“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”
“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.
The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.
The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.
“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time. 
You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”
A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”
His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“Right,” you nod.
Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.
“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”
“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.
Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls. 
Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s. 
“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”
“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.
You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.
“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.
You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”
The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.
“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”
“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”
Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.
“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”
Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”
You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”
“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”
“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”
He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment. 
“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.
“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”
“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”
Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”
The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”
“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.” 
Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”
“Yeah…” you echo.
“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you. 
He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.
You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile. 
“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”
The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”
He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind. 
Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”
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if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)
1K notes · View notes
satoruhour · 1 year
Note
toji’s reaction to seeing you in short shorts/booty shorts around the house 🏃‍♀️
PAYBACK
a/n: sorry anon i didnt exactly like how this turned out but i still hope u enjoy !!!
wc: 2.1k
warnings: sorta crack-ish in the beginning, pleasure dom toji, soft dom toji, praise, toji is obsessed w/ you, kitchen sex, clothed sex, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, pussy slaps! (both w/ his hand and d!ck), fingering, clit stimulation, tit + ass fondling, unprotected sex, p → v penetration, creampie / breeding kink, brief aftercare, n*sfw under the cut
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there were things that toji was good at holding back on, like telling you that you might’ve added a bit more garlic than butter for a garlic spread. he doesn’t tell you how your body heat warms him up fast and he desperately wants to pull away from you, but your slumbering state is so peaceful he would rather burn. 
and then sometimes he wishes he would just bite the bullet (even if you were his baby), because you were currently getting back at him for giving you the silent treatment. if he could do it over a trivial thing, so could you. toji’s probably still mad about your guess in charades, where you couldn’t understand that he was telling you he was riding a tricycle and not a bicycle, that mere difference of wheels causing a major roadblock in your relationship.
it was by far the stupidest thing you’ve argued about (you assume he had a bad day, too), and you were willing to talk things out and tell him he could’ve just put up three fingers instead of pointing aggressively to an invisible tricycle, but he opts to glare at you and sigh instead. you can’t believe he’s getting this worked up over a game of charades too, so you tease him the only other way you know how to.
it hadn’t been that long since you talked, but you figured you’ll need to start on dinner soon, getting a sick idea in your head when you see the new booty shorts you had ordered laying on your bed. you definitely thought it would be better for another day, but life is short and toji is not, so you pull them on and they feel divine, remembering the content smile on your face when your boyfriend had offered to pay for them — a reward well received when you check out your ass in the full-length mirror and the way it shaped your lower half.
the evening carries on as usual, but you can feel his stare once you emerge from your room in one of his shirts and he thinks you aren’t wearing any pants until you’re pulling out saucepans and reaching for the spices in the top cupboard that his shirt rides up and he can see your plump fucking ass; he chokes on his water.
with your back turned, you stifle a little grin and continue with your chores as the shorts ride up with each walk from living room to kitchen, but it’s all under the guise of cleaning and setting the table, wiping aimlessly, too, at the coffee table in front of the TV where toji sat, even if you weren’t eating there. you feel eyes on you when you return to the kitchen and continue your torture, cooking up a storm and bending over while looking into the fridge, while pulling out the plates for dinner, while—
“those the shorts i bought you?” bingo. although you’re not quite ready to talk to him yet, you succumb with a curt nod. toji obviously isn’t satisfied with your answer, footsteps approaching to lean on the kitchen island as his eyes keep his gaze locked at your butt.
“gonna ignore me for the whole day, hm?” it seemed like toji had other plans, his larger hand trailing up your thighs to your ass before curling around your waist. he’s pressing his front against you, hips grinding slightly even though you know he wants to do anything but that. you’re not wearing underwear, either, so the sensation of his bulge against your cunt is a lovely feeling and it takes everything in you not to moan.
you have to bring yourself back to reality to turn off the stove that feels so far away, hands clutching onto the countertops as you chase the familiar drag of your sex against his but toji only tuts, landing a slap onto your ass. “dinner first, baby.”
bastard. you roll your eyes and groan, but you didn’t seem to catch his innuendo, so you’re yelping when he suddenly flips you around and tugs at your shorts, pulling it off of a leg so there’s space for him. while your hands are pushing at his shoulders, desperately wanting to uphold your pride of ignoring him, you know the cool air against your cunt and the sight of fushiguro toji on his knees is only making you wetter.
and toji just smirks, looking up at you like his revered deity and you jump again at his cold hands prying your thighs apart, bringing a leg to rest on his shoulder. toji looks in love with your pussy, seeing your hole clench around nothing as your eyes beg for him to do something, anything, but he only continues to tease, running his thumbs along your folds and just missing your clit.
“use your words, sweetheart.”
“need…” toji raises an eyebrow, cheek leaning casually against your thigh and he grins as he sees you fight your own pride like you don’t want his tongue and fingers on you. give it a little more and you’ll break, because through the silence of your shared home and your heavy breathing, the tension is so infuriating that you’re willing to push away that stupid game of charades to the back of your brain.
you hate how needy you sound, though. “i need your tongue… p-please, baby,” you plead and drag out the name, and in the stuffiness of the kitchen, you think toji, one of the strongest men you know, looks the fucking best when he’s smiling up at you with a wanton want behind his eyes. “wan’ you, toji, wan’ you to eat me out!”
“oh… of course, when you beg like that,” toji plants a kiss to your puffy clit and the simple gesture makes you whine, “how could i say no to my pretty baby?”
toji delves in like he’s never eaten before, licking a thick stripe up your pussy to collect your slick before lapping at your clit, garnering a loud moan that reverberates throughout the house. you wish you never called him out on his terrible acting skills from the start, one hand keeping your balance while the other tugs on his black hair. harder and harder.
toji groans at your impatience as he feels you spread your legs further, moans and whimpers filling his ears. one hand sneaks under his shirt and squeezes at your tits, the other hugging you closer to him, fondling your ass at the same time. your boyfriend takes in everything, from your pleasured expression to your contracting tummy and he can feel himself harden below him.
but you come first, you always come first and he makes it clear when he halts for a second and you whine at the lack of contact. “eyes here, baby.” toji calls out to you, slapping your cunt and you jolt at the feeling, although it’s not entirely unpleasant; your eyes flit down to him. the other grins again and slaps your pussy a few more times, the wetness of your sex making loud, obscene noises, “tell me how good i’m making you feel, yeah?”
you mewl as you nod as his fingers prod at your hole and you swear the sudden intrusion has your stomach turning. you’re clamping down on his fingers which sets a pace, buried right up to the ends of his fingers as his palm collects your slick. your lover continues to abuse your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking.
“o-ooh, shit! they’re so deep, tojiii!” the moans you let out were almost pornographic, breathless and needy with how good he was giving it to you, the familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you. his fingers keep a constant pace, stretching you out so well and the roughness of them feel so contrasting on your body, but you love it. “toji, i— fuck, i’m c-close!”
“taste so good, doll. c’mon, cum on my tongue.” the older man is ruined too, the heat of the kitchen getting to him with how the strands of his hair stick to his forehead, but more than that, he’s grinding into thin air, wanting any sort of relief for his hardening cock. “you taste like heaven, oh shit...”
“t-toji— i’m! oh, fuck, fuck fuck—!” it’s not long before you’re unravelling in his hold, legs trembling and incoherent babbles spilling from your lips as toji licks up your release leaving from your dripping, tight hole, sure to lap up every last drop. his emerald eyes hold yours as he cleans you up, body still twitching and shivering from the mind-blowing orgasm before he stands and removes his fingers, holding it to your lips.
“suck.” and you do, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around him like you would to his cock, free hand already making pulling down his sweatpants that has a little pre-cum leaking through it.
“up you go, darling,” toji mumbles, plopping you onto the counter with ease, and because he’s so tall, his pelvis perfectly lines up with yours. it’s probably also because you envisioned this happening, though, that you made sure to pick out a kitchen countertop with the proper height. he slaps the tip of his cock on your glistening pussy, an angry red from being neglected, groaning as your arousal provides lube with no problem.
“just so you know, i’m buying you more of those stupid shorts,” toji confesses before he pushes past your entrance, tip already stretching you so well that you laugh and moan at the same time, arms flying to encircle his neck to feel him closer. “f-fuck, baby… so tight, just for me…”
“’s all yours, toji,” you whimper softly, an unspoken look in your eyes that just says that i’m yours for you to use, “this pussy’s all y-yours— mmf—”
by then, he’s bottomed out, taking his time in filling you up inch by inch and your submission is reason enough for him to start rocking into you, hips faltering just a little by how warm and snug you felt that it has toji catching his breath. but he doesn’t hold back once you’re comfortable, bullying his cock into you at a faster pace into your pussy that sucks him in so well with each thrust.
“your tight, little pussy’s g’na make me cum faster than usual, pretty,” toji says with a breathless laugh, mouth tasting the sweat that lines your body as he kisses your neck. 
“that’s— okay,” you choke out, pulling him away from the embrace and the sight that greets you takes your breath away. dark, lustful eyes trained on you and a stunning smile to match; you see your lover’s eyes soften ever so slightly when he hits that sweet spot in you, “i’ll take all— fuck- all of your cum, okay?”
and toji almost cums at that moment but he knows if he looks at you any longer and how your tongue lols out at how his cock fits so well in you, he just might; so he just settles for frantic nods, and nudges your head down to look at how his length moves in and out of you. your slick and his pre-cum is leaking all over the counter, squelching noises filling the kitchen. “look at how well you take me. good fuckin’ girl is what you are.”
you giggle at the praise because you know toji means every word, but your moans take over soon. there’s the twist of your core, that edging feeling that toji’s drawing out of you so well — it doesn’t help how he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing circles that you’re close, so close.
“toji, toji, toji—” chanting out his name is all you can do when you’re fucked silly, spilling over unexpectedly as you clamp down hard on his cock. toji groans when he feels you spasm over his length, hips not stopping even after you ride out your orgasm. you’re cumming so much that his stomach is wet, too, the pap! pap! pap! of his pelvis against your pussy sounding so filthy.
your babbles converge into three words, mumbling out i love yous to the older man and soon toji cums as well, swallowing your tearful confessions with a sloppy kiss and he’s releasing deep inside you. he can feel your mewls through the kiss, no doubt loving how his thick cum is spilling into you. his seed is hot, leaking from his tip in ropes and ropes until you’re filled to the brim and you sigh, content with how it feels in you.
your lazed hums make him chuckle, kissing you again and softer this time. “my baby, my sweet baby,” toji makes sure to wipe your eyes after, and mutters apologies against your forehead for the dinner turning cold, but when he sees you and your languid smile, he knows you don’t mind.
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chapter fifteen: the taste of you
chapter summary: two weeks have passed and so many things about your life have changed.
warnings: almost entirely smut, but outside of that warnings for allusions to her attack, discussion of triggers, some ptsd symptoms, and there is a moment during sex that reader is triggered but they help her through. smut including: fingering, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), absolutely dripping wet messy sex, squirting, rough blowjob, cum on reader, cum in reader lol, knotting and all things a/b/o, ass play, double penetration, some amount of m/m that surprised them all, tears during sex but not dacryphilia, lots and lots of orgasms, basically she almost passes away from cumming pls enjoy
notes: more to come, thank you all for waiting for me 🩵
pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader
genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory
word count: 17k (i’m back with a bang no pun intended)
previous chapter | next chapter | AO3
Someone has been stuck to your side all day. If it isn’t Yunho in the hall, it’s Mingi by the front door, San in the gym, Seonghwa getting you coffee, and Wooyoung walking you from room to room. After almost two weeks of reacclimating back to the studio and feeling more like yourself, your sudden shadows throw you for a loop.
They know something.
It isn’t until Mingi nearly walks into the bathroom with you that you spin on your heel and give him a soft push backwards to clear some space.
“What’s wrong?” He straightens up immediately.
“With me?” Your brows go high, “Nothing, I’m feeling great. I am wondering why you feel the need to come pee with me, though,”
He blushes red, “Shit,” he steps back, “sorry,”
“Is something going on?” Your eyes narrow, “I feel like I’ve been assigned a secret service detail but no one told me,”
He chews at the inside of his lip and then finally sighs, “Don’t freak out,”
“Not a great start,” You point out.
“You’re perfectly safe,” He adds, taking a step forward.
“Also not good,” Your stomach flips, “Mingi, what’s happening?”
“Minseok is getting out of the hospital today,” He says in a rush, “and I’m sure he won’t show up here, he’s not an idiot, but it would make me feel better if I knew you were with someone,”
“Oh,” You relax back against the wall.
“You’re not upset?”
“That you want to keep me safe?” You smile, “No, I’m not upset,”
“It just has us a little on edge,” He tells you honestly, “but we didn’t want to worry you with how much better you’ve been doing,”
“Who’s we?” You smile.
“Um,” He taps his phone, unlocking it and glancing down at a series of messages, “me and Yunho, obviously. Seonghwa, Woo, and San,”
You crane your neck to see the screen and laugh immediately at the name of the group chat, “y/n Protection Squad?”
“That was all Woo,” Mingi blushes again and tucks away his phone, “you know him,”
“Mhm,” You raise an eyebrow.
“We probably should have told you,” He concedes.
“Probably,” You nod, “but honestly it’s cute,”
“We just,” He trails off, “well you know,”
“Yeah,” You tap the edge of his phone, “if you’re reporting my coordinates to each other though… you could just text me. Actually, hold on,”
You pull out your own phone and scroll through the settings until you find the right thing, “There,” you smile up at him, “you and Yunho have my location now,”
His eyes widen, “Oh,”
“If you’re worried,” You shrug, “I trust you both not to abuse it.”
He flicks through his own settings, “Now you have mine,” he says, “I’m sure Yunho will do the same once we talk to him,”
“Thanks,” You smile and tuck your phone away.
He doesn’t move, he just stays steady next to you as if he’s waiting for you to say something more.
With a curt jerk of your head behind you, you say, “Okay, but I think I’m safe in the bathroom,”
“Right,” He takes a big step back, “sorry, babe,”
“Don’t be sorry,” You reach out and squeeze his arm, “I’m heading for the gym after this if you’re looking for me,”
“Cool,” He smiles, “thanks,”
“Mhm,” You start to back up through the swinging door into the bathroom, and as you do you watch him quickly tap out a text on his phone. No doubt a report that you’re heading to the gym and wondering who’s in there already.
In any other circumstance this level of hovering would bother you, but they more than mean well. Even though you know Minseok won’t pop up out of nowhere, he truly would have no rational reason to, the presence of your pack around you and the family you’ve built at the studio backing you up, it means everything for your level of comfort here.
The past two weeks have been a dream. Not every second of it, of course, especially with everything it took to reacclimate to work, but having a new home with them has been everything. In the span of a week Yunho and Mingi helped clear you out of your old apartment and break your lease, breakdown the bedrooms at their apartment to transition Mingi’s old room into a shared bedroom, and installed a pack bed that had more than enough room for you and both your alphas.
In the gym you find Wooyoung, lounging on one of the stationary bikes playing on his phone.
“Did Mingi send you?” You tease him immediately.
He grins, “Maybe,”
“You could have told me he was getting out today,” You nudge him as you pass by, sitting on your own bike.
“I know,” He pockets his phone and turns towards you on the seat, “but I didn’t want you to be anxious.”
“Fair,”
He drags a hand through his hair and sighs, “Hey, listen,” he says, “can you tell Yunho I’m not going to make it by this weekend?”
Your eyes narrow, “That depends,” you say, “are you two going to let me in on your weird little secret plans?”
Wooyoung smirks.
For the past week ever since Yunho had moved into the larger bedroom his old room was closed tight, and every few days Wooyoung was stopping by to see you but also to slip away with Yunho and work on something.
“It’s a nest, right?” You prod him, “what else would he be so secretive about?”
“Don’t ruin the surprise,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “let the man do a nice thing for his girlfriend,”
That word is new, along with other words that sum up what you are to each other. Partners, pack, lovers, mates, girlfriend, boyfriends, it’s all tangled up and happening fast but your stomach doesn’t do a nervous flip like it used to, you just feel warm.
“Traditionally, I think I’m supposed to make my own nest,” You point out.
“He knows that,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “that’s why he called me. Now my lips are sealed, stop asking.”
“Fine,”
He pulls at the front of his shirt to get some airflow and sighs, “So, you’ll tell him?”
“Oh,” You nod, remembering his original question, “sure, is something up this weekend?”
He looks at you and raises his brows, “I’m due for a heat,” he explains, “and I just started feeling achy this morning,”
“Got it,” You nod, “can I get you anything?”
He shakes his head, “No, I’m fine, I’ll probably take tomorrow off and then see where the weekend goes,”
“I’ll be around,” You let him know, “I can deliver ice cream and sexy magazines,”
“Shut up,” He smirks.
“Wait,” You smile, “what are you doing about Yeosang?”
His face falls entirely. They’ve been nearly inseparable since they met, even though you yourself still haven’t met him. But you’ve learned enough about him by proxy that you think he’s the right kind of guy for your best friend.
Wooyoung fiddles with the edge of his t-shirt, “I don’t know,”
“You’ll tell him?” You ask.
“Sure,” His voice sounds strained, “I mean… I don’t know how else to explain disappearing for three days.”
“Mhm,” You leave him the space to keep working it out.
“I really don’t think he should meet San and Hwa during,” He says, “I was planning on introducing them beforehand, but you know, that never really worked out.”
“Woo,” You get his attention, “I think you should have whoever you want for your heat, not worry about that,”
“I’m not even sure he’d want to be there,” Wooyoung blushes a bit, looking down, “we keep avoiding the topic.”
“You met like a month ago,” You point out, “not even,”
“So?”
“I’m saying it’s not weird it hasn’t come up,” You soothe him, and you can see clearly how close to his heat he is if his emotions are this on edge, “because the relationship is new.”
“Oh,” He deflates.
“You should get home,” You reach across, giving his shoulder a squeeze, “relax and figure out what you want to do, and then talk to them.”
“I know,” He sighs, “you’re right,”
Silence settles for a moment, and you consider starting up a cardio routine on the bike, but you actually want nothing less today, something’s been itching at you and taking your focus, and with the knowledge that Minseok is out it feels like now or never. With Wooyoung being down for the count next to you, any lingering motivation you would have had flies right out the window.
“Okay,” You stretch your arms and hop up, “if Coach Choi asks, I did forty-five minutes,”
Wooyoung snorts a laugh, “Fucking same,”
It’s late in the day, you should probably pack up your things anyways. The halls have quieted down, the gym relatively empty, and short of Mingi and Yunho finishing their work in the back reviewing next steps and mocking up the next schedule, you’re almost done for the day.
A flickering memory passes through you.
“Hey,” You nudge Wooyoung again, “can you please wait to report my whereabouts for like twenty minutes?”
“Why?” He counters.
You’re quiet, and you give him a look.
He knows where you’re going in a heartbeat, “You want me to come with you?”
You shake your head, “No, I want to do this alone.”
“Okay,” He murmurs, “but text me if you need,”
“I will,”
He watches you go, but you ignore the pressing eyes at your back. Now with twenty minutes of freedom, you check that the hall is empty and move quickly down the one direction you’ve hated walking these past two weeks.
You haven’t been into that particular studio room since it happened. The first day back to work was strange, full of nervous energy and people who didn’t quite want to meet your eyes without some form of uncomfortable pity, but day two was better. You made the right jokes, you smiled wide, and as long as you didn’t acknowledge that room, everything was fine. Now that two weeks have passed, it’s like this room doesn’t even exist and everyone’s adapted to that new reality without a peep.
So far you’ve passed the door eight times and each time you’ve done a damn good job of not even making eye contact with it, barely even thinking about it, not even a little bit.
But something about today is different, maybe that it’s late in the day again, the sunlight dropping in the sky and the halls quieter than they’ve been since you came back. Maybe it’s the new knowledge he’s walking around free. You don’t know exactly what pulls you right in front of the tightly shut studio door, but something deep in your gut does and you find yourself staring at the wood grain, palms slick and trembling against your thighs. It takes a few minutes to hype yourself up enough to push through the door, your stomach a churning mess of knots and images flickering in your mind, but at the count of three whispered on your lips you finally do it.
For some reason your mind expects a dark room, shattered glass, streaks of blood, and Minseok standing in the middle of it all waiting for you, that’s the last thought that rockets across your brain as you stumble over the threshold, but it’s so far and away the opposite that it takes the rug right out from under you.
The room is bright and completely normal, no glass or horror to be seen, and Choi San is seated right in the middle of the floor with one leg extended as he stretches out his muscles. It’s clear from his expression that you startled him a bit, all but falling into the room with flushed cheeks and nervous eyes, but he calms immediately.
He straightens his spine and meets your eyes in the mirror, “Hey,”
“Uh,” You pry your hand away from the door handle, “hey,”
“You alright?” His head tilts slightly as he looks at you.
“Sure,” You answer, a little too quickly, “sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,”
“Mhm,” He nods, and for a moment he’s quiet, waiting for you to say something.
“I’ll just,” You start, your foot sliding backwards so you can make a quick exit.
San just shakes his head, pushing himself up to his feet and turning towards you, “Come in,”
“Eh,” You’re ready to back out now, he just has to let you.
“y/n,” He beckons you forward with a jerk of his head, “you clearly are trying to get past this and I’m in your way, come in. I’ll let you do that,”
Your mouth is dry and it feels a little like being caught under a microscope with how accurate his assessment is.
San takes your silence as a yes and grabs his hoodie from the floor, smiling close-lipped at you as he moves to the side. Suddenly he’s no longer in the mirror in front of you, and memories start to flood back of the last time you were alone in this practice room, last time this door opened and someone appeared behind you in the reflection.
“San!” You spin on your heel, reaching to catch him before he’s truly gone.
“Hey,” He soothes you, gently passing a hand down your upper arm, “take a breath, you’re safe.”
“S-stay?” You manage it, your nails digging into his skin through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt, “For a second?”
He softens, “Let me get Yunho and Mingi,”
You shake your head, “Please don’t.”
His brows knit together, “Why not?”
You swallow tightly, feeling the entire scene playing out behind you, and you could swear that if you just turned around you could see it all. Your body on the floor, your alphas above you, the flooding, rushing water in your ears of subspace.
“y/n,” San prompts you again, “why don’t you want your alphas?”
San’s thumb strokes a tender line into your skin, waiting for your answer and you exhale slowly as you center yourself, “They worry for me,”
“Mhm,” He nods, but lets you continue.
“They wanted me to take more time off,” You explain, “but I’m ready to be here,”
He waits another beat, and then lays his other hand over your tense fingers, pulling them gently away from his sleeve, “Are you?”
You swallow tightly, “Work, yes,” you tell him, “this room is hard.”
“Let’s go then,” He murmurs, tugging at your hand just a little as if to draw you out of the room, down the hall, and right back into your alphas arms, but you shake your head.
“Can you just wait a minute?” You finally ask, “Maybe what I need is a Choi San pep talk,”
He sighs heavily, his hands dropping away from you. For a second you think he’s going to leave, and then he moves around you to the center of the studio to plop right back down onto the floor, “Come on then,”
The knots release at his tone and you follow him. Your body is still full of nerves, but you’ve been in this studio a hundred other times before and right now there’s no Minseok. You’re not alone, you’re with your friend.
San smiles up at you and waves you down to the floor, “Stretch,”
“I already stretched,” You tell him as you ease yourself down next to him.
“Stretch again,” He prompts you, “it’s good for you.”
You huff a laugh through closed lips, extending the lines of your body out to mirror him and he nods in approval. It’s quiet for a little while, your bodies shifting into familiar positions one after another, moving silently in sync. San watches you in the mirror, correcting your form without saying a word, until he finally breaks the silence.
“It’s just a room,” He says, “that’s all it is now.”
Tight pinpricks of tears play at the edges of your vision but you clear your throat and nod, “I know,”
“There’s not a trace of him left,” San adds.
The words don’t quite make sense and you finally look away from him in the mirror to turn towards him, “What?”
He drops his arms out of another stretch and turns to you, “He’s gone,” he clarifies, “all his things, his scent, recordings, all of it.”
“W-who,” You start, but you know, “when did you do that?”
“That night,” He answers you with ease, “I just want you to know you won’t run into a trace of him here, not in this room, not anywhere.”
Your throat tightens.
“I can’t do much,” He explains, resting a hand on your knee, “I’m not an omega like Woo, and we’re not…” he searches for the right words but settles with a sigh, “we’re not close like you and Seonghwa, but you’re my friend and we’ve been through things together. I did what I could do for you,”
“San,” You manage, eyes swimming now, “I can’t believe you did all that,”
He gives your knee a squeeze, “It’s nothing,” he assures, “you deserve to feel safe here. You are safe here.”
You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly, “Thank you,”
He holds you gingerly, one hand pressed between your shoulder blades as he nods.
It takes you a moment to get yourself under control, emotions swirling, but finally you drop back out of the hug and sweep your fingertips under your watery eyes to clear the potential tears.
“Mingi said,” He starts, catching himself with a heavy sigh before continuing, “he said you dropped the charges?”
“Yeah,”
“Why?” He asks genuinely.
For as perceptive as San is sometimes, he’s clueless about one thing. You sigh, not sure whether you should point out the glaring Seonghwa shaped blindspot in his peripherals, “Nothing would be worth any of you getting in trouble,”
“You’re worth that,” San points out calmly, “we all did what we did for a reason, we’re not inherently violent men, y/n.”
“I know that,” You nod.
“Mm,” He shakes his head and adjusts his position on the hardwood floor, “what’s done is done, but we were all willing to take some consequences for you. You’re our friend, our teammate. You’re Yunho and Mingi’s omega too, you’re… you’re a person and what Minseok did to you was wrong.”
“I know,” You repeat, finding his hand and squeezing it tightly, “but this is what I want. I want to go back to normal with my family and be happy, it’s been too long since we’ve had that,”
He nods, giving your hand a squeeze back. You can see that there’s a protest on his tongue, an argument to be made about what’s right and wrong, but he holds himself back.
In the quiet, honesty floods forward on your tongue, “I also wasn’t going to let Seonghwa ask for a single dime from his parents again,”
San’s fingers tighten involuntarily and his head snaps to the side, “What?”
“You heard me,”
San’s jaw pulses and relaxes, and then he separates your hands, dragging his own through his mess of black hair with a heavy sigh. You let him sit with it for a moment, nothing feeling quite right to say at the moment.
He nods finally and turns his head towards you just a little, “He told you?”
“Yes,”
“And,” San starts, but any words he might have fall short, he looks to you for something more.
“He hasn’t taken money from them in a while,” You start off, and San’s eyes widen just slightly, “I wasn’t going to let him get dragged back into their shit for me,”
San swallows.
“He misses you,” You offer, “and I know you miss him too.”
He looks away again, his hands clenching tight into fists and then releasing. “y/n,” He says, “you shouldn’t get involved,”
“I’m not,” You want to reach out and take his hand, but from his body language you know it’s a bad idea, “I haven’t said anything about this in months, but I’m as much a friend to you as I am to Seonghwa, so I would never lie to you.”
He considers your words for a long beat, and then he sighs, “Was forgiving them worth it?”
“Yunho and Mingi?”
He nods.
“Yes,” You tell him unequivocally, “but Sannie, they had to forgive me too.”
He shifts on the floor, this time wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, and you let your arms fold around him in the embrace. You run one hand up and down his back, hoping it gives him some amount of comfort even if it's small.
“I do miss him,” He murmurs, “all the time,”
“I did too,” You confess, “even when I was angry,”
Footsteps behind you both send a chill through you, and you jump at the sound.
“It’s alright,” San soothes you, glancing into the mirror to see who’s come in, “it’s just your alphas,”
You break away from San’s hug to look, needing to see for yourself, but feel your body fully relax at the sight of them.
“Hey,” Yunho gives a close-lipped smile, concern clearly visible in his expression, “you guys okay?”
“Mhm,” San nods, pushing off the floor, “all good,”
Yunho and Mingi both look at you.
“San was helping me be back in here,” You tell them honestly, “but I’m okay,”
Mingi helps you to your feet with an outstretched hand and once you’re up, he cups your cheek to bring your eyes up to his, “You sure?”
You nod, quietly communicating with your eyes that if there’s anything to say it should be said privately.
“I should go,” San says, grabbing his bag off the floor by the mirrors.
Pulling back you catch him before he jogs out, “Thank you, seriously,”
He nods, “You too,”
He gives a courtesy nod to Yunho and Mingi, and jogs out faster than anyone can ask any follow ups.
They’re quiet for a moment, but even just a second or two of strange silence in this room after being triggered is enough to make your skin crawl, and you reach for Yunho’s hand.
“Jagi?” He checks.
“Can we get out of here, please?”
Mingi grabs your things, “Let’s go,”
Yunho presses a warm kiss to your forehead as he turns to leave, tucking you under his arm, “Come on,”
In the hall, Mingi finds your free hand and twines your fingers together, “Okay?”
“Mostly,” You sigh now that you’re on your way out of the building and wrapped up in their comforting scents, “I think we can start having practices in there again, but maybe not all of them right away?”
Mingi’s hand pulses in yours, but Yunho speaks first, “If you’re ready for that, I’ll shift Friday afternoons back in there.”
“I’m ready,” You nod.
The three of you make your way out into the streets of Seoul, and Yunho smiles, “That way if it’s tough, at least it’s Friday and you can just come home and relax with us.”
“Smart,” Mingi comments.
Your chest warms, “That’s perfect, I love you.”
Those words have been coming more easily ever since the kitchen, but you watch the tips of Yunho’s ears go pink still, “I love you too,”
“Is San alright?” Mingi asks as you approach the car, “he seemed off,”
“He’s got some things going on, but he will be.” It’s not your place, not with something like this.
He nods, and as Yunho unlocks the car he slides into the backseat and reaches out a hand for you, “Let’s go home.”
You slide into his side, wondering a little about what San will do next. Part of you wants to smack him and tell him he’s being an idiot and he needs to get over this and there’s no sense in talking yourself out of happiness, but you didn’t listen to advice like that when you were making all the same mistakes. You have to let him come to it in his own time.
As the car pulls away you catch a message on your phone from Wooyoung.
Heading home - you good?
You tap back a fast reply - All good. Focus on your heat, and CALL YEOSANG.
Thanks Mom. - He replies.
You let your phone drop, and Mingi’s hand lands warmly on your thigh to give you a squeeze. The thought of Wooyoung going into heat is making your mind flick back to your own. His hands, this car, the way Yunho glances at you in the rearview mirror. It’s all seared into your memory from a different time.
Not only that, and you’re a little ashamed to admit it, but there’s something to be said for the way your alphas flanked you all day just to keep you safe. After ten hours of it, you’re a little addicted to the way Yunho’s hand feels on the small of your back or the weight of Mingi’s hand on your thigh. If anyone at the studio was unaware of your relationship, it’s crystal clear now. They kept close to you as if Minseok was around any corner, and you suspect their intensity was as much for them as it was for you.
They stay stuck to you until you’re all safely back in the apartment, and then suddenly with the door locked tight behind you, they fall away. Mingi stretches and yawns, dropping his coat on a hook by the door before disappearing into the kitchen to start dinner. Yunho drops a perfunctory kiss on the crown of your head and mentions that he’s going to change, and then you’re standing in the foyer by yourself.
It’s been days since you’ve felt something stirring in you, possibly even weeks. You haven’t had room to feel that pull in your gut, heat flushing your cheeks, wetness pooling in your core. You’ve been too busy and too stressed to be horny, but suddenly you’re full of wanting.
You’re not in heat, nowhere even close, but with the sudden way you need to touch them it almost feels like that.
Your cunt is throbbing.
At the sound of a pan making contact with the stovetop in the kitchen, your legs start moving.
Mingi glances to the side when he sees you enter the kitchen and he smiles, “Hey, babe,”
“Can dinner wait?” You say in a rush.
His brows draw together and he turns towards you, “What’s up?”
“I just,” You can’t help but get distracted by his muscled arms, the dip of his chest where his tank top cuts low, “maybe we should order in,”
“I thought you wanted japchae?” He nods towards the pan to his side.
You all but pounce on him when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug his lips down to meet yours, pressing the length of your body against his and panting gently against his lips, “Mingi,”
He makes a muffled sigh, his hands closing on your waist as he holds you up, his body relaxing into yours naturally, “Babe?”
“Shh,” You shake your head a little, your hand skating down his chest and over his nipple.
He shudders and you feel him responding instantly, hardening against your belly. His mouth parts, tongue dipping past your lips to flick along yours, hot breath warm and welcome against your cheek.
Your body pulses with need, and the thick perfume of your scent fills the kitchen. Mingi’s hands tighten as he inhales the rich syrupy honey and he breaks the kiss, “Baby,” he softens and finds your eyes, “when’s your heat?”
“Not now,” You shake your head and brush him off, pulling at his t-shirt again in an attempt to drag his lips to yours, “it’s not for at least another month,”
“Then what’s gotten into you?” He asks, angling away to try and get to the bottom of your sudden neediness.
You know it technically isn’t a rejection, but god it still feels like one, and you push back two steps to clear some space, “Nothing,” you sigh, “sorry,”
“Whoa, whoa,” Mingi shakes his head and catches your hand in his, “wherever your brain just went, you’re wrong,”
“If you’re not in the mood,” Embarrassment feels thick around you and you can’t quite meet his eyes.
Mingi laughs sharply and steps close again, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your hair, “I have never not been in the mood with you, babe,”
You swallow tightly, nodding into his chest.
“But,” He adds, “it’s been a while since we’ve done anything, and ever since… you’ve been tense every time things get a little heated,”
“I’m sorry,” You breathe.
“Why in the world are you apologizing?” Mingi groans and separates from you so he can look at you eye to eye, his hands cupping your cheeks.
Your throat tightens. There’s a million reasons you feel sorry, but you sigh into him and lean against his warm palm, “I feel like I can’t get my shit together, it’s a lot for you both to put up with. I just want to want you, I want it to be like it was. I don’t want him here, I… I don’t know,”
Mingi listens patiently, but as you start to lose steam he nods, “Got it,” he steps forward and scoops you up into his arms, “this is more serious than I thought,”
“M-Mingi, what are you doing?” You grip his shoulders as he maneuvers you bridal style into his arms before carrying you out into the next room.
“Yunho!” Mingi calls as he heads for the hall, “Get out here,”
He doesn’t stop at Yunho’s bedroom door though, instead he pushes further down the hall to his bedroom - your bedroom. The room doesn’t quite feel like yours yet, but with the changes he’s made to the space to welcome you and Yunho into it, and the addition of the sprawling pack bed, you know it will start to feel more and more like yours everyday.
Behind Mingi you hear Yunho’s old bedroom door open and a questioning sound, but you barely hear it as Mingi stops at the foot of the bed and plops you straight down in the center of it.
“What,” You start to ask, but Mingi turns from you as Yunho follows into the room.
“What’s going on?” He asks, glancing between the two of you.
“Our girlfriend,” He smiles at the word, keeping his eyes on you while he addresses Yunho, “seems to be under the impression that she’s too much for us to put up with,”
You open your mouth to protest, but Yunho’s head snaps to yours, “What?”
“Mm,” Mingi nods, “ridiculous, I know, but she seems to think having a completely normal response to a traumatic incident is a lot for us to deal with,”
Your cheeks grow hot, “Mingi, stop,”
“I was gone for three minutes,” Yunho’s brow furrows, “what could have happened in three minutes?”
“y/n tried to jump my bones,” Mingi grins.
“You’re leaving out the part where you rejected me,” You can’t stop the words, the way he pushed you away in the kitchen still stinging.
He reaches for you then, his hand closing around your ankle to drag you down the bed so that you’re seated on the edge. You let out a small noise of surprise, but before you can work out what he’s doing, he’s dropped your foot and crouched in front of you, wide hands resting on your hips.
“Not a rejection,” He shakes his head, face far more serious, “a question.”
“What was the question?” Yunho asks, moving further into the room. He leaves you both space, but leans his hips against the dresser behind Mingi.
“I want to know what’s gotten into you,” Mingi reaches up, brushing your cheek gingerly and moving to stroke your hair, “because I want nothing more than to have you, pretty much every second of every day, but never at the expense of hurting you.”
“O-oh,” You soften a little at that.
Mingi lips turn up slightly in a smile, “You’re not too much,” he says quietly, “you’re not something for us to put up with, and you don’t have to apologize to us for anything. Yunho, back me up here,”
He takes a steady breath in, moving to crouch next to Mingi, “There’s nothing to put up with,” he says, “there’s just this thing that happened that we have to work through together and that’s not an obligation. You and what you need are not obligations.”
Warmth pricks at your eyes and your stomach flutters.
“I also think there’s something you may not realize,” Mingi adds, drawing your attention back to him, “but Yunho and I are also scared of hurting you, or triggering something by accident.”
Yunho nods immediately, one hand finding your thigh to give you a comforting squeeze.
“Yeah?”
“Everytime you freeze up or flinch I wonder if I should have touched you differently, or not touched you at all,” Yunho admits.
Mingi nods, “The minute I catch the scent of your fear, I’m right back in that room with you. What happened affected all of us, there’s going to be things we both do that you have to deal with too, does that make sense?”
The knot between your shoulders releases and you sigh, “Yeah,”
“Like today, if you hadn’t been with one of us all day I think I would have gone insane,” Mingi offers.
Yunho swallows tightly and nods, “Completely insane,”
You can’t help but smile, “You both seemed pretty relaxed,”
“That’s because I could see you,” Yunho smiles, stroking his hand up and down your thigh, “with Minseok out in the world again our protective instincts are in hyperdrive, sweetheart,”
“I’m,” You start to say, but Mingi cuts you off.
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” He sighs.
“I wasn’t,” You nudge him with your knee, “I was going to say that I’m glad,”
“Oh,” He deflates.
“I feel bad that there’s a reason for you to feel so tense,” You clarify a little, “but to have you both there for me like that? All I felt was safe, all day.”
“Good,” Yunho brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss there, “that’s good.”
“Honestly,” You laugh a little, “I liked it,”
“Well that was obvious,” Mingi squeezes your hip, “from the way you perfumed all over me,”
“Shut up,” You blush again.
“Mm,” Yunho teases a little, “protective alphas get you hot, hmm?”
“Oh my god,” You roll your eyes, but the flutter in your lower belly tends to agree with him.
Mingi smiles, but clears his throat and starts to sober, “Also, babe,” he squeezes you, “as much as I wanted to fuck you over the kitchen counter, I don’t think the first time we have sex outside of your heat should be so careless,”
Your face drops, realization stretching into you, “You’re right,”
“We need to take our time,” Mingi murmurs, “especially when we aren’t sure of your triggers yet,”
“Definitely,” Yunho nods.
“That makes sense,” You sigh.
“So,” Mingi’s hands slide off you then and he rocks back on his heels, clapping Yunho on the shoulder as he stands, “don’t apologize like that again,”
You feel a little like the world has tilted again.
“I can get dinner going,” Mingi starts to say, and you catch a confused flicker in Yunho’s eyes too as he turns from you to look up at his best friend.
“Mingi,” You try to interrupt him but he’s focused elsewhere, still rambling on about dinner, “Mingi!”
“What?” He turns around, eyes a little wide.
“Are you really not going to fuck me after all that?” You manage.
He shifts from foot to foot and where he had all the right things to say a moment ago, now he seems at a loss for words, “I didn’t think you’d want to after today, with the studio and we were just talking about him,”
Yunho waits, looking back up at you.
“I’m not that fragile,” You shake your head, “and he’s been in my head all day. He always is,”
Yunho’s jaw tightens and releases.
“And you’re right, we should take a little slow,” You tell them, “but I’m ready to figure that out together, I want you both so badly it’s driving me crazy,”
Mingi’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he takes a step back towards you both, “You’re sure?”
“Mingi,” You sigh, “baby, I’m sure, I’m ready to climb the walls I’m so horny, and I just really wanted one night where,”
Your words are cut off instantly, Yunho launching up into your space to catch you in a frenzied kiss, your legs parting open to let him crowd you more closely. You moan against his lips, hands finding their way into his hair, your hot center pressed up against his stomach as he dips you back into the sheets.
“Oh, thank god,” Your hips buck up into him as you moan, your head falling back to the mattress.
He takes a deep inhale, shivering in your arms, “You smelling this good outside of your heat should be illegal,”
“Yeah?” You pant, pulling him back to your mouth for another kiss.
“Mhm,” He hums against your lips, “it’s enough to send me into a rut, baby,”
You shudder, the thought of him rutting endlessly into you is enough to make you come, but when you go to pull him closer again you feel this time it’s not you who froze up, but Yunho.
“H-hey,” You lean back a little, smoothing the hair out of his face and catching his guilty expression, “what’s wrong?”
Mingi stands stock still to the side, his arms crossed and a serious expression across his face.
“I didn’t mean to say that,” He shakes his head, “I just meant you’re perfect, you’re… I didn’t mean that,”
It takes a second for your brain to catch up, but the penny drops when you think of Minseok. His excuses, his pleas, all the things he must have said to them to try to weasel out of his actions while you were trapped in headspace.
“Okay,” You shuffle back a little and sit up, reaching up for Mingi, “can you please come over here? You’re making me nervous standing around like a bodyguard,”
He drops his arms and nods, finding a place next to you on the bed, hands in his lap.
“Funny enough,” You catch Yunho’s eye, “the thought of you in a rut didn’t bother me at all,”
Yunho’s expression clears a bit, “It didn’t?”
You shake your head, “No,” you explain, “if it bothers you, then that’s different, but if you’re just worried about upsetting me,”
Yunho sighs heavily, dropping his forehead to your thighs as he sinks back to a kneeling seat on the floor, “We’re a mess,”
“Fully,” You laugh lightly, “we’re never going to christen this bed if we keep walking on eggshells,”
Mingi’s shoulders relax, and he reaches to press a hand to your upper back, fingers lightly curling around the sides of your neck. A pleasant, unexpected thrill passes through you at the sensation, and quietly you catalog it. Your neck has been such a sore, sensitive spot since the incident, but right now Mingi’s hand feels right.
“What do we do?” Yunho kisses your thighs and leans back up, “I don’t think either one of us is willing to hurt you,”
Mingi shakes his head.
“Accidentally triggering me isn’t willingness to hurt me,” You correct him softly, “and triggering me doesn’t necessarily mean I fall to pieces,”
He nods a little.
“Like what you did last week,” You point out to him, “when you kissed my neck,”
Gears start to turn in his brain, you watch it happening as his expression changes and you and Mingi both stay quiet while he works it out.
Finally, Yunho nods, “What triggers do we know about?”
“When you touch my neck,” The easiest, and most obvious.
You all think for a moment, and Mingi clears his throat, “You get jumpy when we’re both behind you,”
“That’s true,” You nod, “when I can’t see either of you,”
“Okay,” Yunho nods, “what else?”
You don’t want to think through the incident, not right now, but your mind skips over little moments the past few weeks and all the ways you’ve been on edge. Your eyes flick up to the space on the wall above the dresser, to the large reflection that stretches across the wall, “Mirrors,”
“Good,” Yunho dips forward and kisses you quickly on the forehead before standing, “give me a hand with this,” he says to Mingi.
Your other alpha responds immediately, and you watch as they lift the mirror up off the wall with ease and maneuver it out of the room without a second thought, silently communicating with each other the entire time.
Emotion fills your chest, warmth spreading through you when they cross back into the room looking accomplished. Yunho takes a seat next to you on the edge of the bed and offers you a hand, “Anything else?”
You slip your hand into his as Mingi does the same on your opposite side. You chew the inside of your lip, thinking once again through all the potential pockets of fear. Minseok’s voice echoes in your head - Submit. Heel. Don’t move an inch.
“Tone,” You offer quietly, “I can’t do that,”
It’s something some couples play with in bed, you’ve learned that in your research over the past couple of weeks into subspace and how it works. Some omegas want their alpha to use tone, they relish in the floating disconnection of subspace and the way their body becomes pliant and limp at the hands of their partner. You can’t imagine it, you can’t imagine ever wanting to release that level of control again.
Mingi’s hand grips yours, and he shakes his head, jaw too tightly clenched to form words.
“Hey,” Yunho soothes you, wrapping his arms around you, “that’s not even on the table, it’s not even near the table, okay? We might mess up in other ways without knowing, but I promise you, we’ll never do that with this. Tone isn’t something you use by mistake,”
You nod, and Mingi interjects softly, “You have to want it, you have to put intention behind it to push an omega to comply, that’s not something we can fuck up in the heat of the moment,”
“Okay,” The nerves in your stomach settle.
“If you’re worried though,” Yunho smooths a hand down your back, “we can be a little more careful about giving you directions, or being bossy,”
“Being alphas?” You laugh and shake your head, “No, no honestly I’ve always liked that and I don’t want this fear to ruin that,”
“Okay,” He nods, a soft smile on his lips, “if something doesn’t feel right though, you tell us.”
“For any of it,” Mingi adds, “stop us in the moment, we’ll readjust.”
“Or stop us full on,” Yunho notes, “I know you want to try, but there’s never a point we can’t stop,”
“I know that,” You nod, “I know I’m safe with you both.”
“Always,” Mingi squeezes your hand again, just a quick pulse to punctuate his intention, the truth behind it.
“What about you?” You ask softly, looking between them.
“Us?” Mingi asks.
“Is there something… I don’t know, that day was terrible but I don’t remember a good bit of it,” You explain, “I don’t know what happened when I was under, what might bother you?”
“I don’t know,” Yunho says honestly, “I’m more scared of hurting you than anything, so maybe don’t push yourself too hard?”
“If something starts to bother me?” You clarify.
He nods, “Yeah,”
“I can do that,” You nod, “we can take it slow,”
“Same for me,” Mingi nods, “we’ll figure it out together.”
It’s quiet for a moment, both of them just resting their hands on your body, and you realize they’re not ready to make the first move.
“Yunho,” You take his hand, sliding it up your thigh to your waistband, “I liked what you were doing before,”
“Yeah?” His expression relaxes, tension bleeding out of the room now that you’ve helped change the course.
“Mhm,” You shift on the bed to lean back into Mingi’s body next to yours and let your legs fall open naturally, “it’s been a long time, will you touch me?”
His fingers slide over your side, playing with the edge of your shirt.
“Will you take care of me?” You murmur.
He nods, his eyes darkening a bit and flicking over your body, darting up once to silently communicate with Mingi, “Lay back, sweetheart,”
Mingi shifts to sit next to you, his legs dropping over the edge of the bed and his broad hands coming to your shoulders. “How’s this?” He asks as he draws you down to lie next to him, both flat on your backs but his arm tucked under your neck so he can cuddle you into his side.
“So nice,” You murmur.
“I’ve missed this,” Yunho hums pleasantly as he peels your leggings down over your hips, “I regretted not putting my mouth on you more the minute your heat was over,”
A thrill rolls through you at his words and you shiver, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” He finishing rolling off your leggings and smooths his hands up and down your thighs, catching over your hips and hooking his thumbs in the sides of your thong, “you taste like you were made for us,”
“God,” You shiver, letting your head fall back onto Mingi’s bicep.
“So sweet,” Mingi adds, his free hand coming to rest on your chest, slowly dragging up the fabric of your shirt with his fingers.
“You know,” Yunho taps the side of your hip to prompt you to lift them and you shift immediately so he can discard your underwear too, “now that you’re not in heat we can actually take our time,”
“O-oh,” You shudder.
“Good point,” Mingi smiles, adjusting himself so he’s on his side now to look down at you, “no rush,”
You shiver as Yunho adjusts your legs open, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of your knee as he settles between your splayed thighs. A flutter of anticipation bubbles in you and you sigh, “I don’t know,” you smile, “I might start begging for a knot any second,”
Yunho huffs a little laugh, “You can beg all you want,”
Your mouth runs dry at the implication and you look down, “Yeah?”
He nods, but his eyes are glued to your sex, his expression hungry, “Mhm, this time you don’t need a knot, you just want one.”
You open your mouth to say something, but every thought falls right out of your head when Yunho blows a cool stream of air over your exposed core, your body twitching in response.
“God damn,” Mingi curses, shifting a bit so his arm slides out from under you, leaning up so he can get a good view.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Yunho murmurs, placing a tender kiss to the inside of your right thigh, slowly kissing his way to the top of your mound.
Your hips jolt in response, a spike of needy pleasure lighting up your spine and you nod, “So good,”
“Good girl,” He hums, dipping forwards and kissing your cunt in earnest, tongue dragging up through your folds slow and steady until he finds your tender bud.
You drop back against the sheets, your body shifting and moving on its own as you arch into his touch, your thighs already trembling at the sensation of pleasure building in your body after so much time.
“Oh, baby,” Mingi says, his voice husky, “you’re so beautiful,”
Yunho’s tongue teases you slowly, exploring you with little touches and licks, and you feel him sigh pleasantly between your thighs as he gets comfortable. Mingi slips lower in the bed, pushing your shirt up over your breasts before dropping his own lips to your hot skin. They kiss like they want to breathe you in until they’re dizzy, and as your eyes slip closed all you can focus on is the feeling of their hands holding you, their tongues, warm breath against your dampened skin.
Hands push your sports bra up to strip you off and leave you bare and then Mingi’s mouth closes over one nipple while his fingers tease the other, flicking and sucking in perfect rhythm to match Yunho’s tongue on your clit.
“God,” You shiver, heat pooling low in your belly, “oh, God,”
Yunho hums against you, pushing closer to your wet center so he can suck your tender clit.
You moan sharply, the feeling heady and dizzying, and you reach down to wind your fingers into his hair. He inhales against your skin and you blink your eyes open, looking down to watch as both your alphas lavish your body. Yunho looks up through the hood of his lashes, his face shiny and wet with your slick, and he shifts to open up your thighs more to his needy mouth.
“Fuck,” Your hips buck, fingers tight against his scalp.
Mingi shifts back up, this time pressing heavily into your space and capturing your mouth, his tongue flicking against yours as he dips you back into the sheets.
“Mmm,” Yunho nods into your core, his tongue pressing inside you as he nestles closer, your clit bumping the bridge of his nose.
Your hips roll, chasing the sensation that has already started to make you dizzy, “Oh, g-god,”
Mingi holds you closer now, your body trembling in his arms, and he strokes your sweat-slick skin, “That’s it,” he coaxes you, “that’s it, omega,”
Your thighs start to shake, and Mingi finds your knee so he can hold you open wide for Yunho’s mouth.
You jerk against him, hips jutting with every spike of pleasure, a blush blooming up your chest and cheeks.
“Ride him,” Mingi coaxes you as your hips roll, “just like that, come on his face,”
Yunho’s hands lock down tight, roughly pulling you a little closer so he can keep working his tongue against you, inside you, sensations exploding everywhere they touch you.
“I’m so fucking close,” You whine, the words running together as sweat breaks across your skin, “P-please,”
”That’s our girl,” Mingi nuzzles into the side of your head, his deep tenor making your brain go fuzzy.
“I’m,” Your eyes screw tightly shut, every movement of your body jerky and uncoordinated but every bump of Yunho’s nose against your clit and his tongue inside you has you right on the perfect precipice, “there, there,”
Yunho stays steady, hearing your need without changing pattern or pressure, and the sudden consistent pulse sends you spiraling.
You come hard, your first orgasm in weeks let alone your first non-heat orgasm with them, and you’re caught fully in the torrent of pleasure with your vision going white and a distinct ringing in your ears.
When you start to come through it, you realize you’re turned to the side, your body completely locked up and you’re gripping Mingi’s arm hard with your nails. He’s rolled close behind you to keep his arms there, but he leans over to see your face.
“So good, wasn’t it?” You catch the end of his sentence, blinking your eyes open and humming in response.
“Yeah,” Yunho’s voice now, and you look down to see him kneeling by your now-closed knees, one broad hand sweeping a line up and down your skin, “there you are,”
“I think you killed me,” You smile wide, tucking your face into the mattress, “you’re talking to a ghost,”
Yunho laughs, and Mingi hums a pleased sound, nuzzling you some more, “Come back over here, gorgeous girl,”
You let him roll you back over into the same position you started in, only this time your body feels like jelly.
“Good?”
“Delicious,” It’s the only word you can think of for how good it all feels.
Yunho nudges your thighs open again and you glance down.
“More?” He grins.
“What about you two?” You’re about halfway through the sentence when Yunho brushes his fingers over your clit again and your words end in a breathy moan.
“We’ve got all night,” Mingi reminds you, “and judging by how hard Yunho is, I think he likes getting you off,”
“Shut up,” Yunho scolds him gently before dropping a warm kiss on your inner thigh, “don’t tell me your dick couldn’t cut glass right now,”
Mingi huffs a laugh, “We have a whiny, desperate, moaning mess of an omega in our bed,” his fingers slide along your side as he talks and you twitch under his hands, “of course I’m hard.”
“Mm,” Yunho kisses up your dripping slit, “baby, why don’t you help him out with that while I take care of you?”
“Y-yeah, yes,” You reach for Mingi, “please, let me help,”
Mingi licks his lips, his hand drifting down to his clothed cock and your eyes flick down to follow. He’s straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, and you clumsily try to open them from your twisted position on the bed for a moment before he stops you.
“Here,” Mingi gets up and shucks off his clothes entirely, settling back down into the same position. He’s achingly hard, the head pink and leaking precum, and you blush at the dirty thoughts that flit through your mind one right after another.
“I can wait,” He offers.
“Fuck,” You shake your head, “I can’t,”
Mingi groans, his hand pumping over his cock once.
“Her mouth,” Yunho suggests between languid licks at your pussy, “trust me,”
You’re nodding before Mingi can even ask if that’s okay, “Please,” you prop yourself up on the bed a little better, “let me taste,”
“Fuck,” Mingi curses.
The three of you move and adjust in tandem until you’re propped at the very edge of the bed for Yunho between your legs, and supported by a pillow behind your shoulder so that you can be slightly turned to the side to reach Mingi where he kneels at your head, his thighs parted wide to drop low and get his cock level with your mouth.
They’re both fully still as you slide forwards, dropping your mouth open and letting the very tip of Mingi’s fat cock pass through your lips and over your tongue.
Mingi moans, and you hum in response.
“You two look perfect,” Yunho murmurs.
“Yeah?” Mingi’s hand brushes over your head, “You hear that, babe? You look perfect sucking my cock,”
You hum around him, taking him deeper into your mouth.
Yunho kisses your mound gently, and you know that’s your warning that he’s about to start again. You gently buck your hips to let him know you’re ready, and he hums softly. Before he starts though, he reaches one hand up and finds where yours is twisted in the sheets, pulling your fingers away so he can hold your hand instead.
He squeezes your hand twice, hard, “If you need air,” he tells you.
You pulse your hand back once to acknowledge his words.
He responds with a sharp thrust of two fingers inside your tight channel and you groan around Mingi’s cock.
“Shit,” Mingi grips you, “jesus, babe,”
Through hooded lashes you look up at him and his jaw tightens, his breath coming in hot exhales through his nose. Whatever you’re doing with your tongue is exactly what he needs and it springs you forwards.
The position isn’t perfect, but it’s close, and so you ignore the little bit of discomfort in your back to give him what he needs. You bob your head back and forth, dragging Mingi’s cock deeper into your warm mouth with every forward sink. He doesn’t direct your movements, but his hand in your hair feels comforting, steady, and makes you want to take him all the more.
“So good,” Mingi pants, “fuck yes, pretty girl,”
Your cunt clenches around Yunho’s fingers and you hear him chuckle between your thighs.
“Ah, ah,” Mingi huffs as you take him further into your throat, “she likes that?”
Yunho lifts his tongue from your clit, “Uh-huh,” he nips a little bite at your inner thigh, “she’s slicking all over my fingers,”
You groan, you didn’t know how they would really be outside of your heat. Heat makes everyone blurry and needy messes, but hearing how filthy they can be on a regular weeknight? No heat, no special occasion, just all of you together? You’re getting dizzy.
“Mm,” Mingi locks his eyes on your face, watching the way you take him nearly to the hilt, “look at you trying to take it all,”
You sink further, ignoring the burn in your jaw and the flickering gag reflex at the back of your throat until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.
“Jesus f-fuck,” Mingi groans, his head falling back, “that’s it, good fucking girl,”
Yunho’s lips close over your clit again and he sucks hard, ripping a muffled whine from your throat.
“Please,” Mingi begs, and you shiver at the sound of your alpha begging for you, not the other way around.
You pull free from his length and take a deep breath before diving back forwards, this time working him fast and a little sloppy. His fingers tighten up when you tease the head of his cock with the hard tip of your tongue, and his hips jerk every time you slide down about halfway, and with some sort of steady rhythm you double your efforts.
Yunho curses between your legs softly, and then you feel him move, tipping your legs open wider and readjusting his fingers inside you. Your eyes widen when you feel him curl them, locating your spongy g-spot and confirming it with a test jerk of his fingers that sends a shudder through your body as you moan.
He gets the spot right again, and then you’re done for. Between the quick juts of his fingers inside you, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, and the feeling of his tongue torturing your swollen bud, you don’t have long.
“God,” Mingi pants, “listen to you,”
You’re a wet and whiny mess just like he’s said, only this time your mouth on his cock makes the sound of the room all the more lewd.
“Are you going to come for us again?” Mingi says, voice thready, “Our perfect omega,”
You whine, and you feel Mingi’s cock twitch in your mouth. Everything is foggy and hot, a building knot deep in your core, something bubbling up fast inside you and your hips jerk against Yunho’s fingers.
His thumb brushes the back of your knuckles and your eyes roll back, your orgasm rushing towards you fast.
Mingi’s groaning though, he’s close to spilling himself hot down your throat and when his hips jerk on their own you nod to let him know he can keep going. Falling forwards onto his knees he braces one hand against the mattress and keeps the other rooted in your hair, letting himself rock his hips just enough to drag his length in and out of your lips, over your tongue exactly where he needs the pressure.
”Someday I’m gonna knot that pretty mouth, baby,” He groans.
You moan hard, your back arching up.
Yunho uses your combined hands to push you back down flat to the mattress, and the pressure change has you ready to burst.
There’s so much happening at once, so much sensation pulsing through your body and despite the way that Mingi fucks your face, you’re acutely aware of the warm bubble in your belly dropping low and feeling unlike any orgasm you’ve ever had before.
You whine hard, your head jerking back a little, but Mingi doesn’t pick up on what you need immediately, he’s too close, “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m g-gonna,”
Yunho takes a sharp breath and then closes his lips over your clit, sucking fast and hard, his fingers pumping firmly at the exact rhythm you need like a metronome counting you through the last beats of your pleasure before the hard crescendo.
Something tightens in your gut, almost painfully and unfamiliar, and you whine harshly again, yanking back from Mingi hard enough that he stutters and lets you go. You fall back into the pillows just as the knot in your gut snaps and you come hot and hard with a staggered cry, arching into Yunho’s mouth as clear fluid starts to pulse from your core.
“Good girl,” He croons, sliding his hand up your wet pussy to rub fast and hard across your clit, prolonging the striking wave, “oh my god, baby, yes, fuck,”
”S-shit,” Mingi falters, his own release ripped away the minute you pulled back, and he makes the neediest whine you’ve ever heard from an alpha in all your life.
You’ll help, you will, as soon as you regain some semblance of which way is up and which is down and use of your arms.
Yunho’s quicker though, he squeezes your hand once before he pulls away, dropping your legs and making sure you’re not going to slide off the bed before he climbs up next to you both.
“You’re alright,” He murmurs, but it’s not to you, and you blink hard to clear the dizzy orgasm away and refocus.
When you turn your head you nearly lose your mind, the sight of your alphas together too good to even have imagined up in your darkest little fantasies. Mingi is still gripping the mattress with one hand and your hair with the other, but Yunho is wrapped behind him and reaching around to work his packmate’s cock with steady, fast strokes.
“F-fuck,” Mingi moans, “h-harder,”
Yunho drops his forehead against Mingi’s broad shoulder and lets his eyes close, picking up the pace of his hand, “Look at her, watch our pretty omega,”
Mingi groans, his eyes blinking open until he finds you.
You reach up, snaking a hand through the tangled mess of arms until you find Mingi’s hard nipple. His eyes widen and he hisses as you pass a thumb over it, shuddering between you both.
“Alpha,” You beg, “come,”
“O-oh my g-,” Mingi chokes as you start to flick his nipple a little more firmly.
”That’s it,” Yunho pants, and you see him looking down at you too, “help him,”
“Mingi,” You whine like you’re starving for him, “come for me, please, please,”
He gasps, hips canting forwards and jerking into Yunho’s fist, holding you steady on the bed as he releases, spurts of milky cum panting your lips, your cheeks, spattering across your naked breasts.
It takes a minute for you all to recover, the only sound in the room the heavy breath shared between you, but you watch as Yunho gently releases Mingi’s softening cock, bracing himself by holding Mingi’s hips for just a moment while he catches his own breath before sliding back and off the bed entirely.
Mingi shifts back, his cheeks and chest flushed pink and the reality of what just happened sinks into you. You have no idea if they’ve ever touched each other before like that, and you all but hold your breath to see where things go from here.
You listen as Yunho pads out of the room and into the connected bathroom, and after a moment of rustling around he returns with two towels. He tosses one down on the floor and you remember suddenly how your own orgasm ended.
”Oh, fuck,” You cover your eyes, “I’m sorry,”
”Don’t be,” Yunho says, “I loved it,”
”Still,” You sigh, “I’ve never done that before,”
Mingi huffs a tiny laugh next to you, and you pull your hand away to look up at him. He smiles a little, “That makes two of us,”
Yunho kneels on the bed, shifting a little closer, and passes the damp end of a towel over all the places you’re still covered in Mingi’s cum. He seems profoundly unaffected by all of it, and you’re a second from asking if he’s okay, but he gets there first.
“Sweetheart,” His gaze is soft and easy, and he looks down at you warmly while he cleans up your cheek, “can I touch your neck?”
You love him.
”Yeah,” You nod, stretching a little so he can reach.
He passes the towel over your throat quickly, “How are you feeling?”
“Really good,” You brush your hand along his arm.
He nods, tossing the towel to the edge of the bed. He looks at you a moment longer, but then he looks up to Mingi and clears his throat, “You good?”
“Yeah,”
You look between them, noticing the unspoken conversation passing between them.
“I hope I didn’t,” Yunho trails off.
“You didn’t,” Mingi promises, “it’s us,”
Yunho sighs, one of his hands coming to rest warmly on your stomach and the other reaching for your other alpha, “Good,”
It’s quiet for a beat, and you need to know where they’re at before you nervously combust.
“Um,” You shift in the sheets until you’re pushing yourself up to a seat with them, “are we… is everything…” you can’t figure out how to ask what you’re asking, so you settle on the only thing that makes sense, “are we good?”
“Of course we are,” Mingi reaches for you, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss to your lips.
”Sorry,” Yunho squeezes your thigh, “we didn’t mean to exclude you,”
“No, no,” You shake your head, “that’s between you,”
“No,” Yunho disagrees, “we’re all together, and there should never be any questions or secrets,”
“Mhm,” Mingi agrees, “but like I said, it’s us. It doesn’t have to mean anything, but things have always been different where we’re concerned,” He gestures between himself and Yunho.
“But you’ve never?” You let the implication speak for itself.
Yunho shakes his head.
“We made out in college once,” Mingi says, a laugh on his lips, “but we were pretty drunk and it was for a dare,”
“We weren’t that drunk,” Yunho shrugs.
“Hmm,” You stretch your aching limbs and tangle your fingers with Yunho, “I would have loved to have been there for that,”
Mingi laughs earnestly now and tugs you up into his lap, “I didn’t know you’d be such a horny little mess outside of your heat,”
Your core flutters but you tease him right back, “I’m an omega,” you roll your eyes, “we’re all horny messes,”
“That’s convenient then,” He kisses you, nipping at your lip, “since you have two alphas here who want nothing more than to keep you locked on our knots all day,”
You shiver a little.
“Yunho,” Mingi looks up, “come here,”
Yunho’s body heat envelops you on your left side, and they move you until you’re cradled in both their arms, body spread across their laps while Yunho holds your top half in the crook of his left arm and Mingi supports the rest of you.
They lean against each other, bare shoulder to bare shoulder and your mind starts to wander down the path of all of you together again.
“Maybe you were always meant to be pack,” You point out softly, and their hands still where they stroke your skin.
Yunho nods and looks over to Mingi, “We were fast friends,”
“True,” He murmurs.
Yunho smiles and looks down again, “Maybe we just needed to find you,”
“I forgot how much of a romantic you are,”
He dips down to press a fast kiss to your lips, “One of us should be,”
“I’m not complaining,” You peck his lips quick as he leans back up, “never stop,”
Mingi gives your hip a squeeze, and then he takes Yunho’s hand in his, “Let’s romantically make our girl come again,”
Yunho chuckles, low and warm in his chest, “What do you have in mind?”
You watch as Mingi guides Yunho’s fingers down to your entrance only this time he pushes his own fingers in right alongside. The stretch is sudden and perfect and you moan softly, gripping down on Yunho’s knee.
“Show me how you made her come before,” Mingi’s eyes are glued to your core, “I didn’t get to appreciate it before,”
Yunho grins, “Gladly,”
Your next two orgasms are a blur of sensation, their combined attentions pulling feeling out of you that you didn’t know existed without your heat. Mingi’s lavishing you with his tongue, cleaning you up from the mess you’ve made, when you finally make an overstimulated squeak and push his head away.
“Mm,” He kisses your clit, “fine,”
“If either one of you wants to actually fuck me,” You yawn, “I need a break,”
“Sleep,” Yunho pulls a blanket up and over your body, “we’ll be here when you wake up,”
You’d protest, but it sounds too good now that you’re cocooned in the blanket and buried in the pillows. When Mingi collapses at your other side and you have both of them around you, you drift.
You wake to lazy kisses, sleepy nuzzling from both of them, their hands drifting over your body.
You stretch into it, finding both of them hard and warm and wanting.
“Mm,” Mingi curls over your side, kissing any part of skin he can, “hi, sleepyhead,”
You gasp sharply as his mouth closes over your nipple.
“You were moving around in your sleep,” Yunho’s hand coasts up your thigh as he nudges closer, “bad dreams or good dreams?”
You moan as Mingi sucks a little harder, “No dreams,”
“Needy even asleep?” Mingi teases.
“I,” You start to say, but you feel Yunho’s cock nudging at the apex of your thighs, the head pushing against your clit.
“Fuck,” Yunho sighs, “you’re still wet,”
You shiver, and he pushes his hips forward a little to slide his cock against your slick slit further.
His hands tighten on you and he shudders a sigh into your hair.
“Please,” You part your knees, “no more teasing, I, just, please,”
Mingi shifts away from your back to give you a little space and without hesitation Yunho rolls you. Your legs part open naturally now that you’re on your back.
“Is this okay?” Yunho murmurs, brushing the hair back from your face as he settles above you and in between your splayed knees.
“Mhm,” You soothe him, his nerves evident despite the heat between you all in the room.
“And this?” He asks softly, the velvet head of his cock pressing against your entrance.
“Slow,” You gasp as he starts to push in, and he adjusts his pace. As always, his size dwarfs you, and it takes you time to adjust. In heat it’s easy to take an alpha’s cock with almost no preparation, your body producing enough slick and your muscles adjusting so that days of sex and knotting don’t feel so difficult.
Outside of heat you can take it too, but it’s not as quick and simple.
Your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the stretch of it, the ache, the way your channel seems to resist and then give way to him in the most warm and dizzying pleasure.
“Sweetheart,” He whispers, “are you with me?”
“Mhm,” You look back up at him, “you feel incredible.”
He sighs, relief in his eyes, and with one more careful push he seats himself fully inside you.
“You feel,” You shiver, words dying on your lips.
He smiles as he lowers himself down, resting an elbow on either side of your head and lacing one hand in your hair, “How do I feel, little omega?”
Your muscles flutter and clench around him and you sigh, “Big, it’s… god it’s so much more than when I was in heat,”
“No pain?”
“No,” You let your fingers stroke up and down the length of his back.
“Good,” He hums, dipping down to kiss you tenderly, “because you’re perfect, you feel perfect around me,”
His tongue dips into your mouth this time, a soft kiss turns needy, and slowly he starts to move, thrusting his hips shallowly just to get you used to the sensation.
Mingi shifts to rest close to you both, his fingers running up and down your arm softly, and you reach for him to twine your fingers together as you watch Yunho watching you.
“Yunho,” you breathe, “baby,”
You can feel the emotion rolling off him in waves, the tenderness as he presses himself deeper into you.
“Sweetheart,” His fingers brush along your cheek, “I, god, I,”
“I know,” your head falls back, and you grip Mingi’s hand.
Yunho picks up the pace slightly, a little faster and a little more with each stroke and he shudders when he hears a sharp moan, “Good?”
“Please, don’t stop,” You beg him, gripping down onto his shoulder with your free hand.
He adjusts your bodies, pressing over yours so that your hips rock with his in a rolling rhythm, and his lips capture yours. His warm breath, the pressure of him above you, waves of sensation as you breathe in his warm, safe scent.
You’re creeping up to the edge of an orgasm, but you feel him shudder above you before he moans against your mouth and you pull him tight to you.
“Please,” you moan, “Yunho please,”
“Say it,” he whispers, “tell me,”
The words spill out of you, “Baby, I, god, I love you,”
His hips slow and he meets your eyes, absolute tender adoration rolling off him in waves when he replies, “I love you so much,”
“I missed you,” You confess, a sudden rush of emotion through your chest and tears pricking at your eyes. Blinking hard you look to the side to find Mingi and squeeze his hand, “I missed you both. I love you both,”
Mingi’s expression crumbles and he presses forwards to kiss you, his lips connecting to yours with intensity, his free hand against your face, a sigh on his lips when he leans back. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, his eyes misty, “You’re our omega, our mate,” he corrects, “we’re never letting go of you again.”
“Mingi,” You soften.
“I love you,” He replies, kissing the back of your hand.
When Mingi slides back a little further, you look back to Yunho and see that he's frozen still above you, watching you both with warmth. When you meet his eyes, a small smile plays across his mouth, “Can you take more, baby?”
Your body jerks gently against him, just the implication that he would fuck you earnestly making your mind dizzy, and all you can do is nod, “Yes, yes,”
He rocks back down on you in an instant, gathering you as close as he can while he fucks you soft, meeting your mouth and saying everything he needs to in the kiss. All the apologies, the amends, he pours it all into this until he hears you whining beneath him, arcs of pleasure spiking up your spine with every deep roll of his pelvis against your clit and push of his cock in deeper.
“Like that?” He pants against your cheek.
“Don’t you dare stop,” You arch against him, holding him tightly to you as you let him move.
Something about the slow steady pressure he’s applying is making you careen back up to the top of pleasure. There’s a time and a place for hard and deep, but this? This has you melting into his hands in a way you’d never have expected and your legs quiver as you try to hitch your calves on his hips to give him a deeper angle.
“C-close?” He manages.
You nod, twisting your head to the side to catch his mouth again.
“Mm,” He groans against your mouth, “I can feel it,”
Your fingers tighten on him.
“Fuck,” He curses, his movements staying controlled and slow, firm but not too fast.
Tears gather in your eyes, the way the bubble is building inside of you is almost painfully good, and heat spreads over every inch of your skin before concentrating hot on your core. You feel the bed shift, and without looking you know Mingi is close by, all of your scents mingling together now in a way that bubbles emotion deep in your chest.
You think that this is what people mean when they say making love.
Your back arches, fingers digging into him, tears spill over your temples and into your hair as you let your head rock back, “Alpha,” you whine.
Yunho moans above you, and he mutters something on his lips but you can barely hear it.
This time when your neck stretches long and open to them, you know they won’t hurt you. Mingi’s hand slides underneath to cup the top of your neck and the base of your head, his fingers mingling with Yunho’s in your hair.
“We’re here, omega,” Mingi murmurs low, “let go for us,”
A tight strained noise bubbles from your lips as the feeling builds.
“You’re safe,” Mingi soothes.
Yunho shudders a moan, and you feel the slow swell of his knot starting to bump against your slick hole. He’s desperately close but holding on as best he can for you to get there first.
Mingi directs his next words away from your ear, “Don’t stop, she’s nearly,”
Yunho makes a noise, and you feel his fingers grip down.
It hits you like a snap of fire, your limbs a shaking mess, and you cry out sharply and twist beneath them in the sheets, pleasure overtaking you until you think you may not be able to take a second more.
“Shh,” one of your alphas says, but you’re too far gone to know which.
You’re a mess, the orgasm seemingly never-ending, and you can feel the hot tears and hear the way you’re sobbing in pleasure but it’s disconnected and floaty.
Yunho’s hips start to slow and then you start to feel him pull back entirely and something deep inside you panics.
Snapping forward you wrap your arms harder around him and pull him back down, your brain too fuzzy to say anything more coherent than, “Knot,” you beg, “please,”
He folds back over you, shifting your hips up and open wider, and though you can see the brief flicker of hesitation in his eyes he starts to snap his hips harder into you, the steady click of your wet skin against his the only clear sound in the room.
His cock spearing you open is so much sensation you can’t focus on anything else, every connection of your bodies and kiss of his skin pushing an overstimulated moan from your lips.
Yunho’s close now, his hands tight, breath thready, and he gathers you closer to his chest until you’re cupped against his breastbone.
“S-she,” He chokes.
“She’s alright,” Mingi assures him, his hand still warm against your back.
He’s scared for you, still so concerned about hurting you or being too much for you, especially out of your heat and especially after everything. He doesn’t understand that this kind of need, this want for each other so wholly is healing parts of you that you didn’t know were broken.
You tug him closer, kiss his chest where’s you’re cradled, “Yunho,” you whine, “knot me, b-baby knot me, come,”
He collapses, hips thrusting hard and then you feel the sudden push of something wide, the stretch as it locks inside, and then the warm sensation of his release filling you.
Yunho’s still panting hot against your skin when you feel Mingi shift, pushing Yunho back from your body so he can see you. He finds your chin, pulling your face up gently to meet his.
Yunho responds too, the head rush of his own release fading enough that he can focus and his hands smooth back your damp hair, “Are you alright?” His voice is shaky, “Sweetheart, did I hurt you?”
“God, no,” You breathe.
Mingi slides down in the sheets while still gingerly holding your chin, trying to get a good look at your eyes, “Babe?”
“Hmm,” You blink, finding his face more clearly, “hey,”
“Hey,” He smiles, but you can still see an anxiety in him.
“What’s wrong?” Your head is finally starting to clear enough for you to realize that they don’t seem relaxed in post-coital bliss, they seem stressed.
He shakes his head a little, lost for something to say, but his wide hand slides up and his thumb brushes along your cheekbone to your temple, “You’re crying,” he murmurs, “you were crying,”
“I’m okay,” You shake your head, “I’m more than okay, I’m… it was so good, it was,”
Mingi sighs heavily, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder, “Oh fuck,”
Yunho presses a hard kiss to your forehead as he exhales his own relief against your hair. His knot starts to soften, and your hips naturally start to shift away to separate you, but with Yunho heavy above you it’s impossible.
“Easy,” He murmurs against your skin, and you hear him breath in sharply in a way that sounds like he’s pushing back his own tears, “let me,”
It takes a moment, but as soon as his knot is down enough he slides out of your slick channel. He drops to the side of the bed that Mingi isn’t occupying and drags up one of the blankets to cover the three of you.
Mingi stretches out beside you too, and in a moment you’re cuddled between them.
“Closer,” You tug them in. After that, you need to be absolutely enveloped in them.
They both shift in until all of your legs are tangled together, and Mingi brushes your cheeks again, “Babe,”
“I promise,” You reach up to brush away any lingering wetness under your eyes, “it was just overwhelming, but in the best way. I can’t explain,”
“It was,” Yunho agrees softly.
“I just,” You feel another bubble of emotion as you recall it, trying to understand how to articulate it, “it’s like I could feel you both so much closer, more than I could for my heat, more than…. I don’t know, I just realized that you’re really mine. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I…”
Yunho shakes his head, “We’re the ones who can’t believe we have you,”
You twist in the bed, wrapping your arms around Yunho and hugging him close, “I love you,” you kiss his lips, his cheek, “thank you for taking care of me,”
He softens, “Always,”
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” You need him to understand, “but you made me feel so loved and so safe,”
Your hand reaches back to find Mingi so you can tug him closer still and he slides up to your back and wraps an arm around the two of you.
“Both of you,” You hold them close, “no one’s ever made me feel like this,”
Mingi nods against you.
You hold each other close, breathing in the same air for a few moments, no one willing to rush the comedown when it was as emotional as it was. You stretch long in the bed between them to ease the sensation back into all your limbs and Yunho’s eyes darken, flicking down to take in your naked body again.
He’s half hard again by the time you’ve relaxed into the sheets and you smile.
Mingi’s fingers stroke up and down the smooth plane of your abdomen, light enough to tickle.
“Again?” You ask, a little breathless.
“Mhm,” Mingi draws his hand down lower, teasing just a little with the tips of his fingers.
“God,” You shiver.
Yunho nods, “Definitely again,”
“Mm,” Mingi rolls his fingers over your clit, “next heat, we’ll both fuck you together, wouldn’t that be perfect, pretty girl?”
A distinct flicker of need passes through you at his words. You do want that. You want it so bad you shudder and moan, your fingers digging into Yunho’s chest.
You shake your head and push Mingi’s arm away, “We should try,”
“What, now?” For the first time you see him truly caught off guard.
“Please,” You nod, “we don’t need to wait, I want you both,”
Yunho’s hand smooths up and down your arm, “It might be too much,”
“So then we stop,” You counter.
Mingi wets his lips, thinking it through and then he nods, “I’m not knotting your ass,”
You blush.
“Today,” He adds, “but, okay, let’s try.”
“Who do you want where, baby?” Yunho’s fingers trace your jaw lightly.
“Um,” You look between them, a little dizzy at how quickly they agreed, how immediately this is about to happen, “I’m not sure,”
Yunho looks up, “You take her ass,”
Your core clenches and Mingi smiles at the blush in your cheeks.
“Sweetheart,” Yunho rolls onto his back, “come right up here,”
Slowly you ease one leg over and settle yourself over his cock. You’re still dripping with slick and Yunho’s last release, and it makes the slide easy as you sink down and bury him right back where he belongs.
He exhales sharply, “Perfect,”
Mingi leans back, finding the bedside table and pulling out the drawer, searching for the lube he knows is there that he’s definitely going to need with you not in heat. When he comes back he’s still sitting next to you and Yunho but he faces you, and you’re about to ask why he’s not already behind you when he cracks open the top of the lube and applies some to his index and middle fingers.
“Oh,” You breathe softly.
He slides closer on his knees now and reaches around you, “Lean forward a little on Yunho,”
You do just as he asks, and Yunho brings his hands up to brace you at the ribs, making sure that he’s supporting you from below.
“Babe,” He kisses your shoulder, “outside of the heat with us, have you ever done this?”
His fingers slide slowly over the tight ring of muscle and you twitch, “Been d-double penetrated?”
Mingi laughs at your description and Yunho smiles up at you. Mingi shakes his head, “No, has anyone ever touched you here?”
He presses with his finger but doesn’t push in and heat floods up your belly, “Mm-mm” you manage.
“Have you ever played with yourself like this?” He finally starts to push in a digit and you gasp, “Ever put anything inside?”
“N-no,” You moan as he presses his finger in deeper.
“I thought so,” Mingi murmurs, “we need to take our time,”
“I can do it,” You insist, the idea that you might not get what you want after he teases you like this is actually torturous.
“Of course you can,” Yunho cups your cheek, “you’re our omega,”
Your cunt flutters and clenches around his cock.
Mingi withdraws his finger and this time when he presses back in, it’s with two.
Yunho strokes your skin softly, lazily drawing a line from your chest to belly and back up, “Our mate,” he adds, “you were made to take us,”
Your hips cant forwards, pushing down on Yunho’s pelvic bone for any amount of pressure and stimulation on your aching bud.
He groans, “God,”
Mingi pumps his fingers slowly.
Yunho refocuses your eyes on his, “We know you can take us both,” he offers, “but I think what Mingi is saying is that if you’ve never done anything like that, especially regularly, we need to go slow and prep you.”
“Oh,” You relax a little.
“Mhm,” Mingi dips his head and you turn to meet his mouth in a kiss, “just let us make you feel good first,”
“Okay,” You breathe against his lips.
“Yunho,” Mingi murmurs, not drawing his face away from yours.
“Yes,” Yunho hums, and he slides his hand lower.
“Come here,” Mingi sweeps his free hand up and down your arm, and you twist to wrap them around his shoulders, “good girl,”
Your hips roll at his praise.
He finds your lips again, but this time it feels like everything is in slow motion. He worships your mouth with hot, lazy kisses, his tongue against yours and his nose nuzzling into you. The kind of kissing people don’t have time for unless they’re exploratory teenagers or intentional tantric lovers. He gets you used to the slowness, all the while his fingers a still, solid weight inside you.
Yunho’s hands match the pace perfectly, his ability to read the scene and you both uncanny, and all he does is tease. His hands squeeze, slow and firm across your sweat slick skin. Thighs, hips, waist, a tantalizing squeeze to your soft belly. He finally reaches your mound but doesn’t do anything, just rests his hot hand at the top of your cunt and waits.
You’re panting against Mingi’s mouth, lost in the hazy array of their bodies and yours, no concept of what time it is or how many times you’ve really come so far, it’s just you and your alphas and this bed. You push up a little higher on your knees as the kisses get headier, and you hear Yunho hum beneath you, his cock physically twitching and throbbing in your hot channel.
With the slight position adjustment, both of your boys take the opportunity to change the playing field. In tandem they move, Yunho slides two fingers under you, one on either side of your clit and where his cock spears you open, and he just presses ever so slightly to increase the pressure. Mingi slowly pumps his fingers again, this time pushing into your ass noticeably deeper and separating his fingers on each thrust a little wider to start to scissor you open.
You’re trembling, that much is obvious from the way your thighs quiver, and you whine against the cushion of Mingi’s lips, the sound swallowed by his own hungry groan.
You feel Mingi’s free hand slide away from your upper back and he taps Yunho’s chest twice.
“Mhm,” He acknowledges softly.
You break the kiss, your forehead on Mingi’s, “Baby,”
Your words are swallowed up though, he dives in again for another kiss but this time they move their hands with purpose. Mingi pumps harder, a third finger squeezing inside and Yunho’s fingers slide up and press down perfectly over your slick clit. He rolls his fingers at a steady, even pace and pressure as Mingi opens you up further to him.
Hot pleasure spikes up your body and you moan hard, gripping down on Mingi’s shoulders.
“There you go,” Yunho says, his voice tight and low, “good girl, fuck yourself on my cock,”
You didn’t even know you were doing it, your mind so hazy with sensation but he’s right, your body started moving on its own, sinking up and down just enough on Yunho’s thick length that you could imagine both of them taking you properly.
“Oh, fuck,” Yunho curses, “look at you slicking all over me,”
You whine.
“So horny from Mingi playing with your pretty ass?” His voice husky.
“Oh!” You squeak as hot sensation spikes up your body, and you slip away from Mingi’s mouth to bury your face into his shoulder.
“Oh, yes,” Mingi groans holding you close with one hand while he fucks into you with the other, “so fucking tight, baby,”
“Fuck,” You cry.
“You really think you can take my cock?” He teases, scissoring his fingers again
You nod, whining, words completely inaccessible.
“She’s our girl,” Yunho praises, “aren’t you, baby?”
You choke out a moan.
“Say it,” Mingi prompts.
“I,” You shudder, jutting down with your hips to force more of Yunho inside you, “yes, I’m your girl,”
Mingi’s hot voice at your ear is your undoing, “Is our girl close?”
Your nails dig into Yunho’s chest.
“Is our girl going to come?” He nips at your ear and you see stars.
Your body jerks against Yunho, the slick drag of your clit against his fingers where they still press, trapped between your body and his, and Mingi grunts in your ear as he pushes his hand harder and faster. You tear into your orgasm with a scream, a cord snapping in your belly and leaving your body shaking from head to toe, and Yunho shifts you up and lets his cock spring free so he can stimulate you through the end, wetness coating your thighs from where you released again.
You whine when it starts to feel like overstimulation, and Yunho stops, his warm hand coming to cup your cunt as Mingi’s fingers slide out of your channel.
“Shh,” Mingi pets your back, “oh, baby, you’re okay, we got you.”
You’re a babbling mess, not even really conscious of what you’re saying until the arcs of pleasure fade and you’re left boneless and held between them.
Yunho hums appreciatively, “Incredible,”
“Uh-huh,” You agree weakly.
Mingi strokes you more, kissing your head, “You’re still shaking,” he squeezes you like he can’t get enough.
Blinking hard, the stars start to clear and you lift your head a little, “Did we make a mess?”
Yunho laughs, “Fuck yes we did,”
You ease yourself off of Mingi’s shoulders and he helps settle you to a seat straddling Yunho again, “Fuck, the sheets,”
“Are made for heats,” Yunho dismisses, “they’ll be fine, it’s not the last time we’ll be making you squirt,”
“Tonight,” Mingi chuckles, “if we’re lucky,”
“Fuck,” You shiver and laugh, brushing your hair back and shaking your head.
“What?” Mingi pokes you.
“I just didn’t expect you two to be so…” You can’t put your finger on it.
“So?” Yunho’s brows furrow.
You’ve had plenty of sex, some of it you would have considered very good sex, but this? It’s another level of pleasure and need that you didn’t know existed. It could be your scent match, it could just be them and how compatible you are together, but there’s no question that it’s distinctly different and distinctly better.
You search for the right words but land on, “Feral?” You smile, “Maybe?”
“There’s no use in being anything else when it’s us,” Mingi says matter of factly.
An ache settles inside you. Any shame you had about sex at all dissipates in your mind and you smile, “You’re right,” you move forward on Yunho’s thighs, “now will you please both fuck me?”
You sink back down on Yunho’s cock in one fluid motion and he moans, his hips jerking up into the cradle of your hips.
“Hi, baby,” You grind down to take every little inch.
“Hi,” He’s breathless, an almost dopey pleasured grin on his face.
“Mm,” You sigh, enjoying the deep warmth of his cock inside you, “you feel so fucking good,”
“Yeah?”
You nod, “I want you inside me all the time,”
“That can be arranged,” He chuckles, reaching up to draw you down closer to his chest, locking his lips on yours.
You hum warmly against him, rolling your hips softly, “You can have me anytime,”
His hands tighten on your arms, “Careful, baby,”
“You’d like that?” You tease him, nipping at his lip, “Sliding inside me whenever you want,���
He groans and uses his firm hands to stop any amount of movement, “If you want Mingi to be included in this at all, you need to stop with that mouth,”
“Fine, fine,” You concede and you settle down, you’ll just torture him another time since it seems like teasing him is a sure fire way to get him to lose his mind.
Mingi’s hand strokes your back and you glance over to him as he locates the bottle of lube and starts shuffling towards you both again on his knees.
“Ready?” He asks.
“I’ve been ready,” You didn’t mean to sound so needy, but you are and it’s obvious.
“Mhm,” Mingi murmurs, and then he’s sliding behind you.
He straddles Yunho’s legs, fully situated with his hips right behind yours, and you listen as the bottle opens and then closes, the wet sound of his hand slicking up his cock with lube.
“Tell me if you need to slow down,” Yunho murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, “I’m not moving until he’s in, okay?”
Nerves bubble through you suddenly, “Okay,”
The sound of him shifting on the sheets behind you spikes anxiety up your spine.
A heavy hand settles on one hip and your stomach tightens. Another passes up and down your spine and your breath feels suddenly tight and thready. His hand anchors on your shoulder for a moment, the tips of his fingers startlingly close to your pulsepoint and your heart starts to flutter faster.
You know it’s Mingi, of course it is. Yunho’s here in front of you, and that means it couldn’t be anyone but Mingi behind you, but something about your already heightened nerves at the new experience and the inability to see him has you scared.
Yunho’s studying your face, a second away from realizing where you are, but you pump the brakes first.
“Wait, stop,” You manage.
The hands on your body lift off.
You’re breathing a little faster than you should, your heart hammering in your chest.
“Hard stop?” Yunho asks quietly.
You shake your head and swallow back some of the sudden fear, “Mingi?”
“I’m here,” He assures.
You sigh, relief flooding through you and you let your head drop down onto Yunho’s chest.
“It’s me,” He soothes you, realizing immediately where your mind had gone, “it’s me and it’s Yunho, okay?”
“Yeah,” You exhale and nod, “I know, I just… for a second,”
It’s quiet for a moment, but then Mingi says, “Babe?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I touch you, or should we stop?” He’s so careful, so tender. Distantly you remember the moment in the locker room all those months ago, the way he had carefully protected you when he found you in heat, vulnerable and alone. The two men around you have done nothing but protect you, care for you, and seek not just consent but need from you before anything and everything you’ve done together and that realization makes your body soften.
“Yeah,” You reply, “you can, I’m okay,”
You expect his hands back on your hips, but instead you feel a hand on top of yours where you cling to Yunho, and then another on your opposite, Mingi’s fingers threading together with yours.
You blink your eyes open and stare at your combined hands. You know him, you know these hands. You study his rings, the silver ones he always wears, and the little scar on the side of his thumb.
“It’s me,” He gently strokes your finger with his thumb.
“Hi,” You breathe.
“Can you sit up for me?” He asks and you nod.
Both of them draw you up to a sitting position, still angled forwards a little over Yunho but this time where you brace Yunho’s chest, Mingi’s hands cover yours, fingers still intertwined.
“Look at Yunho,” Mingi shifts closer to your back, kissing your shoulder, “and I’m right here.” He punctuates his words with a squeeze to your hands.
“We’ve got you,” Yunho murmurs, “we’re here,”
“I’m ready,” You echo the sentiment from before, but this time you actually are.
Mingi drops his lips to your shoulder again and kisses you, “Just relax, breathe into it,”
The slippery head of his cock nudges your entrance.
Yunho reaches around your bodies and assists, helping to guide Mingi’s cockhead inside you while his hands are busy.
It’s nothing startling at first, just a bit of pressure and not unlike his fingers from before, but when the head of him catches inside, and Yunho drops back, then you start to feel it.
Pressure blooms into a stretch, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and you gasp.
“How do I feel, babe?” Mingi’s got to be holding himself steady with so much control.
“Good,” You manage, “it’s so…”
He pushes his hips forward a little more, opening you up as his cock starts to thicken.
“Fuck,” You squeeze his hands.
“Good?” He checks again.
You nod, but Yunho smiles below you, “You should see her face,” he murmurs.
“I knew it,” Mingi pushes in more, “I knew you could take us,”
You moan sharply, the heat of them both an insane combination that pushes any thought out except for the sensation between your legs.
“God,” Yunho finally groans beneath you, “are you in?”
“A-almost,” Mingi sighs hot against your skin, “j-just a little more,”
A little more? You can’t even imagine, but he thrusts a little more sharply this time to seat himself fully and you grip down on his hands. It burns a little, but fades just as fast as it comes, and now all you can feel is the tremendous fullness of the weight of them together inside you.
“This is,” You blink looking down and seeing Yunho’s pelvis pressed against yours, Mingi’s thighs caging you in from behind, “I d-don’t even know,”
Mingi shifts forwards a little, mostly to adjust his position but it pushes him the smallest amount deeper and you moan sharply. Yunho hisses beneath you, his hips pulsing just once and you feel the way his hands grip down hard on your plush thighs.
“Can you feel him?” You manage.
“Yeah,” Yunho pants, “it’s… this is insane,”
“I’m,” Mingi sighs against your back, “I need a second,”
“Too good?” Yunho smiles.
“Just…” Mingi grips your hands, “nobody move, I’ll come way too fast,”
Filled to the brim like this you’re desperate to move though, it’s all you want to do. You all stay as steady as you can, just the sound of each other’s heavy breaths as you all get your bearings, but in the end you start to move first.
With the smallest shift, you rock your hips once, grinding them further into you and against each other through the thin wall inside you, and you moan.
Mingi jerks.
“Please,” You murmur into the hushed room.
Yunho looks up to Mingi behind you and nods, “Slow,”
They move in sync, a slow drag out and push back in and after two strokes you think you’ll be addicted to them fucking you like this.
“Y-yes,” You roll back with your hips, fucking back into them, “more,”
Mingi drops his lips to your back and uses the position adjustment to snap his hips harder, “You need more?”
A spark of hot pleasure echoes through you and you whine, “Anything, do anything you want, just fuck me,”
“Good girl,” Yunho hums beneath you, and you feel him adjust his legs and brace his hands on the bed.
Your soul quite possibly leaves your body the second they start fucking you in earnest. All you can do is hold onto them now, both of their cocks stretching you open with every quick pulse of their hips. None of you are going to last long at this rate but you really don’t care.
“Oh, god,” You collapse lower onto Yunho’s chest, still gripping Mingi’s hands to ground yourself.
“You’re so fucking tight, omega,” Yunho groans, gritting his teeth.
“And warm,” Mingi nearly growls.
“Wet,” Yunho moans.
Your mind is dizzy and hazy and full of pleasured pops.
Yunho’s hand cups your cheek, drawing your unfocused eyes down to his. He’s checking you, you can see that, but the moment you smile he nods like he’s praising you, “How do we feel, jagi?”
“So good,” You whine, grinding down and back and pushing into the sensation, “I’m so fucking full,”
Mingi chokes out a moan behind you.
“That’s our girl,” Yunho nods again and thrusts a little harder.
A shudder of hot warmth echoes up through your body and you know you’re blushing hard for them, slick with sweat and need.
“Say it,” Mingi groans, “say you’re ours,”
“I’m all fucking yours,” The words come out in a rush, “I’m your omega,”
His hips stutter and you’re all starting to lose your grip. He pushes a little too hard, and you both collapse forwards. You’re a tangle of limbs now, your face pressed up against Yunho’s throat, Mingi pressed into every inch of your back. Two of your hands are still clasped together and bracing the bed above, but the other two have separated and you hold tight to Yunho with your free hand while Mingi holds your hip with his.
They both haven’t stopped despite the position change, both of them needy and close themselves, rutting into you again and again.
“Fuck,” You curse, a roll of pleasure up your body, “alpha, please,”
“Come,” Yunho chokes, “come on our cocks, baby,”
It slams into you, his words as good as a command when you fall apart into shaking moans, pleasure washing through you.
“That’s,” Yunho starts to say, but at the sensation of your walls clenching down around him he loses all control and thrusts up hard, his knot locking firmly in place as he pumps rope after rope of hot cum inside you. He’s shuddering too, an overstimulated hiss as Mingi keeps fucking into you.
“So tight,” Mingi breathes hot against your spine, “my perfect girl,”
“Oh, Mingi,” You grip his hand, pressing your eyes closed as your body is worked over, “baby, please,”
He sucks in a sharp breath, pulling free from your body with a whine, and you hear him stroke desperately fast until he knots in his hand and spills his release across your skin, painting your backside until it drips down your cunt to where you’re still locked together with Yunho.
You feel euphoric, an almost drug induced haze of bliss, and you nuzzle into Yunho’s throat to press little kisses along his gland, your tongue darting out to taste his scent.
He shivers under you, “Feeling good, baby?”
“Mhm,” Rich, wet earth, the crackling of air before a storm. You worm your way closer to him, breathing him in.
Mingi’s hand untangles from yours and he shifts himself back from the both of you to grab a towel and come back to bed.
“Shh,” Yunho murmurs, his knot softening so he can pull himself free, “it’s okay,”
You didn’t even notice you had whined to keep him inside, and you’re not in heat, but something about the experience felt transcendental and you’re not even bonded yet.
Mingi drops a towel over the bed and they both ease you over so you can lay on your back, but you pull Mingi down, needing to settle yourself more, “Alpha,”
“Hey,” He starts but you yank him down and snuggle into his neck too, soaking in the rich cocoa of his scent, “whoa, hey,” he laughs.
You lap a stripe up his throat and he sighs, his body softening delightfully under your touch.
“What’s this?” He murmurs, stroking your skin.
“Need you,” You explain, and that’ll have to be enough.
You move then on instinct, your omega close to the surface now as you seek out what you truly need. With a hand laced in Mingi’s hair you direct him, pushing his head down while you stretch your neck long, and setting his mouth directly over your gland.
You’re not afraid.
He hesitates, breathing you in for a moment, and then you murmur a please.
Mingi’s tongue traces your neck as he drinks in your scent, his kisses slow and reverent over your mating gland.
You reach up and find Yunho, not feeling complete until you have them both.
“You need me too?” Yunho settles at your side.
“Please,”
Mingi makes space until you’re flat on the bed with your head back, neck bared to them both. They scent you slowly, deliberately and with delicious care. They kiss your neck and suck softly at your pulse points, they drink you in until your head starts to clear. They scent you until there could be no question who you belonged to and whose bed you come back to every night.
You tumble into sleep just the same, your alphas on either side of you, bodies wrapped up so closely together you don’t know whose skin is whose, their lips softly at your throat, whispering their love like a prayer .
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