#and lime can tell when she starts doing this

[musubiki]

does lime ever cry about anything or is angry more of his emotion? cause in all the childhood limochi comics mochi seems to be more the overflowing emotional one and lime is the more repressed on even back then. does that change at all ?

good catch!!! youre correct little mochi was VERY much the cry easy child. even if it was a little inconvenience or when she was angry the tears would flow!! not that she was a whiny brat but any time she got upset she couldnt stop the tears lol

and yes lime channels his negative emotions into anger. baby lime was very "haha REAL men dont cry!!!" type and even as he got older he recognizes "okay yeah everyone cries no big deal hahah" but theres still that underlying mindset. that being said hes a very dry anger type, so it takes a lot to actually get tears to come out, usually the only people hed ever cry for or to is his family + mochi.

the only time we actually SEE him cry is whatever the point is where all his pent up resentment about mochi leaving all of them without any word or warning comes out!! and as SOON as his eyes start watering he just freezes he cant even get anymore words out once he gets to that point

(and actually tried to up and run once the tears started but mochi wouldnt let him. and thats the only time we see lime cry -w- )

[writersdrug]

Price getting reader a step stool cause she keeps asking Bartender!Ghost to reach stuff for her. Simon obviously brakes it when no ones looking. 👀🤭

LOL

"Is this your way of insulting me?" You ask, holding the colorful, children's stepstool in your hands. You're grimacing at it, a look that has Price chuckling as he folds up the bag from the store.

"I figured you could use it - now ya don't have to wait for Simon to grab anything for you." He says, patting you on the shoulder.

"I don't mind the wait..." You mumble under your breath. The stool feels as decorative as a clowns nose as you tuck it under your arm and head towards the stairs. "I'm keeping it upstairs, I don't need customers laughing at me when I pull this out. Might take it home and spray paint it."

"Suit yourself." Price calls as you bound up the stairs. He heads over to the bar, where Simon is currently polishing the glasses you convinced him to order for the Halloween drink.

"Got a problem with me helpin' 'er?" Simon says, thick fingers rubbing the glass with a rag. He doesn't mean to sound defensive... but he can't help the bite in his tone.

Price smirks, picking up on the jealousy laced into Simon's words. "Thought you might like it. Makes your life easier, and 'ers." He pops open the register and starts filtering through the bills, replacing the larger value ones with smaller ones.

"You don't think I'm capable of runnin' a bar and helping you waitress at the same time?"

"No, but I think you'd be better off if you didn't have to run so much. She's brought in so much business as it is, your workload's gotten heavier."

Simon huffs. "Ya just want to separate us, hm? Want 'er all to yourself." He jokes, grabbing another glass and buffing it.

Price shrugs. "And if I am?" He says, giving him a side glance.

Ghost slows his ministrations, turning his head to his captain. They both stare at each other for a moment, Simon with his slightly angry, slightly questioning glare, and Price with his unwavering eyes. Simon wants to tell him to back down, that you're his - but he can't say that, because you aren't his. He wants you to be. But he doesn't know how to make it happen without letting his walls down.

Price chuckles, turning back to the register to continue swapping bills. "Y'know, if you want to say somethin' you'd best say it." He comments, snapping the drawer shut. "Missed opportunities often come from miscommunication."

He leaves Simon at the bar, heading towards the stairs with his money folder. You jog down the steps and nearly crash into him - he quickly grabs your shoulders and spins you out of the way before you can collide with him. You throw a "sorry!" over your shoulder as you carry an armful of various fruits, leaving Price chuckling as he ascends the stairs to the office.

"The oranges up there aren't looking too great." You chirp, dumping the fruit onto his workspace. A few lemons and limes roll onto the floor, and you bend down to chase them. Simon watches you, a bit miffed at how unaware you were of the situation. What do you think of Price? Do you like him? Would you flirt with him as much as you do with Simon?

You return with the escaped fruit. "I can run to Sevvy's store and grab some for tonight, if you want? The ones upstairs are looking a bit pruney."

"Are you actually gonna use that thing?"

"Huh?" You look at him with confusion written on your face. "What thing?"

"The stool." He looks down at you, his expression unreadable. "'S a bit demeaning, don'tcha think?"

You paused, watching him move the fruit to the side and grab a plastic cutting board. "I mean... he bought it, and I wouldn't have to bug you so much. If I spray paint it black or something, it won't look that ridiculous."

He nods. "Hm."

"I used it to grab the fruit."

"That's interestin'." He mumbles, slicing through an orange. You were right, they have seen better days.

He turns to pop open the register and hands you some bills. "Go get a few oranges, no more than ten. Order should be comin' in tomorrow."

You smile and take the money, stuffing it in your back pocket. With a few hours remaining before the restaurant opens, you go through the kitchen, grab your jacket, and head out the back.

Simon's back to chopping fruit and dumping it into a small bin, bitterly thinking over what Price had said. It's a stool. Price got it to help you and himself. It was a thoughtful purchase. But it's not just that. However unserious this is to Price, he's trying to rile Simon up. He's treating you like the last slice of cake in the tin - Price would like to have it, but he knows Simon's groveling for it. He's forcing Simon to ask for what he wants, and the bartender doesn't like that one bit. Normally, it wouldn't be something that irks him so easily - but this is you we're talking about. Not just anything. You. He wants to grab Price by the collar and throw him into next week with how he's trying to wedge between you and Simon - but he doesn't like having a weakness. He'll keep his cool for now. He'll make a move... eventually.

For now, the only aggressive side he'll present is passive.

Price leaves late that night, somewhere between two and three in the morning. He's beat, spending most of the night between helping you run food and drinks, and fifo-ing the pantry and overflow rooms. He's planning for a day off - of course, after he goes to the bank and comes back here to pay everyone. He's jealous of Simon, who's already upstairs for the night - he wishes he only had a short trip to the third floor before he could crash into his bed. Rather, he has to trek a hefty number of blocks home through the dark streets. He's more worried about going to bed at a decent hour than walking around at night with a bag full of money - people usually steer clear of him when they see his stature.

He locks the back door behind him, puffing out a foggy breath into the frigid air. It's only getting colder - he'll have to break out his gloves and scarf soon. The beanie won't be enough. He shoves one hand into his pocket, the other holding a small bag of trash from the office. He mentally ticks off what he needs to do this week as he grabs the garbage bins, dragging them behind him and towards the street for the trucks to empty in the morning. He pushes them against the store front, taking the lid off and dropping the light trash bag inside.

The loud thunk makes him do a double take. Did he throw away something important? He lifts the bag once again, and a disappointed expression falls upon his face. The colorful kiddie stool he bought for you is there, pieces snapped apart and shoved deep into the bin. Simon didn't even try to hide it underneath the other bags. It's almost like he left it there for Price to catch.

He sighs, dropping the bag and placing the lid back. He trudged down the sidewalk towards his home - he's not too upset by it. He had a feeling Ghost was sinking his teeth into you, and frankly, it's gotten to the point where Price is afraid of what the man might do if someone else tries to take you away. But damn, if his ex-lieutenant's going to make a move, he'd better make a fucking move. For your sake, if not his own.

He pulls his phone from his pocked and shoots Simon a quick, blunt message.

You're paying me back for that.

[bahablastplz]

Love me like this (OT8 x reader)

pairing: OT8 x reader omegaverse AU

summary: when you get your first ever heat well into your adulthood, the only thing you want to do is shut everyone else out. fortunately for you, your boyfriends have another idea.

warnings: omegaverse, virgin f! reader, uses she/her, oral f! receiving, oral m! receiving, face fucking, heat cycles, thigh riding, penetrative/unprotected sex, knotting, slight degradation, some mxm, spitting, bulge kink, some size kink, talk of safe words, mean dom! Chan, breeding kink, talk of mating bites, basically a huge orgy

wc: 10500 (jesus christ) notes: this is straight up filth (sorry) but also my first omegaverse fic!! here are there scents: Chan: petrichor/mint; Minho: vanilla/black tea; Changbin: jasmine/patchouli; Hyunjin: rose/vanilla; Jisung: bergamot/pink pepper; Felix: sea salt/sandalwood; Seungmin: lavender/fresh laundry; Jeongin: lime/grass; Y/N: caramel/brown sugar

You hadn’t seen the boys all day. Maybe that’s why they were so concerned when their first impression of you was the door slamming behind you on your way into the house. You didn’t mean to cause such a scene, but you did run here. You keep your head down and the anxious spike in their smells overwhelms you. You know you should explain to them what’s going on but you can’t find it in you, instead running toward your room as you ignore their calls after you. When a sharp pain hits your abdomen you trip a little bit, clutching your stomach. But with your instincts on high alert, you make it to your room before anyone can catch up to you, locking it behind you for safe measure. 

“I’m fine,” you call out a bit harshly behind you. “I’m fine. I just want to be left alone.”

You’re more than glad that you decided to put on the strongest scent blockers you own today or they would have immediately known what was going on. Your heart beats out of your chest and you know all you want to do is bundle up and seek safety and comfort, so that is exactly what you do. Once the bottom of your closet is cleared out, you drag your comforter off of your bed and spread it on the floor. You find every blanket and pillow in your room and add it to the pile. When you spot Chan’s hoodie, the one that you begged him for just the other day because it was drenched in his smell, you know you need it the closest to you. You throw it over your body despite how warm you are, grabbing your noise canceling headphones for good measure, and shut your closet door behind you. It would be just a matter of time before they come banging on the door asking what was wrong but you just can’t tell them. 

Your heat has started. 

And though this relationship with your boyfriends is new, you hadn’t quite crossed the physical barrier with any of them yet. You also haven’t told them yet… that this is your first heat. That’s why it came on so unexpectedly and why, perhaps, you’re so ashamed. Trying hard to ignore the pain shooting through your body and centralizing in your stomach, you shut your eyes tight and focus on your breathing. You just need to sleep. For now, that’s all you need. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You smell petrichor and mint before you see him. You’re encompassed by the familiar smell of rain that immediately soothes you and you know when you open your eyes that Chan will be there. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and your eyes finally flutter open. You take out your headphones and look at him, not saying anything. 

“Hey,” he says softly. 

“How’d you get in my room,” you mumble. You know you locked the door behind you so when you see Chan look at you sheepishly, rubbing his neck, you sit up to look at your door. Completely off of its hinges. “Chan,” you groan. 

“I know, I know,” he tells you. “I wasn’t trying to go all ‘controlling pack alpha’ on you, but I was really starting to get nervous, you know? You ran in here lookin like you were in pain, you didn’t answer anybody and you closed yourself in your room… I know you wanted to be left alone but it’s been about two hours and you haven’t answered anybody. I was really worried, okay? I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” you answer. You understand. You really do. 

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks. His hand strokes your arm and it comforts you. The alpha notices your hesitation and sighs, running his hand through his hair. “Can I… can I scent you? I think it would calm both my alpha and your omega down a little… and you are wearing my hoodie. Do you want that?” You nod and crawl into his open arms, burying your face into his neck. You inhale deeply to get his scent and you notice his fingers lightly brushing over your scent patches. 

“Don’t,” you say into his neck. He retracts his hands instantly and you sit in comfortable silence, him rocking your bodies back and forth peacefully in an attempt to soothe you. 

“I started my heat,” you tell him finally. You feel him tense a little bit before he gains his composure. 

“We thought maybe that’s what happened…” he replied truthfully. You shoot him a suspicious look and you notice his face start to turn red. “We noticed… uh… we could sort of smell your slick.” 

“Oh my god that’s so embarrassing,” you groan. 

“It’s okay, love, it’s natural,” he answers softly. “Everybody has heats and ruts… you’ve seen your fair share of alphas in pre-rut in this house to know that.” 

“Not me,” you admit. “Everybody gets them… except for me.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’ve never… gotten my heat before, Chan.” You can tell by his expression that he’s shocked and a little confused. 

“But you’re presented…? You’re an omega,” he points out. That much is obvious, you want to tell him. 

“I presented without going through a heat. I had… a pseudo-heat, basically. That first time my body produced just enough hormones that I presented but not enough to sustain a heat… and I’ve never had one since. They said my omegan hormones were too low.” 

“But you started it today?” he questions. You nod. “It’s understandable… I mean, you live with eight overly-hormonal alphas that are now courting you. It’s probably your body's natural reaction. Is that what’s got you so worked up?” You nodded again. “Why didn’t you tell us, baby?” 

“I was embarrassed,” you admit shyly. He grabs your cheeks so that you’re looking right into his eyes. 

“What is the worst that could have happened, hmm? Did you think we would tease you? Shame you?” You reluctantly nod your head from where it rests between his hands. “That would never, ever happen.” 

“I know,” you tell him. Logically you knew that but you couldn’t help the burning feeling of shame and embarrassment that flooded through your body. “I was… at the store… and some asshole alpha noticed that I started my heat… I didn’t know how he knew. I didn’t even know! But he made some uncomfortable comments and I got so scared… I ran all the way home.”

“You poor thing,” he coos. “Next time if you ever need us or you feel unsafe, you can call me right away. You can call any of us. We’ll always come to you, no questions asked, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“Can I scent you now?” he asks. You think about it for a second before nodding. Your body now feels like any threat is gone, maybe from Chan’s alpha pheromones that he’s been pumping out or maybe due to his reassuring words. You let him peel your scent patches off and your scent of caramel and brown sugar floods the room. With the undertones of Chan’s mint smell, the room almost smells overwhelmingly of a bakery. You know your smell is overpowering, sickly sweet and probably too strong but Chan inhales it straight from its source, burying your head in your neck. “Do you want me… or maybe another alpha… to take care of you for your heat?” he asks carefully. 

“I was going… I just… I can do it myself,” you tell him. His eyes widen. 

“For your first heat? Are you sure? It’s probably going to be a lot.” 

“It’s just… I’ve never…” 

“You’ve never had sex?” he asks. Your lack of an answer tells him everything that you need to know. “I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that, baby. If you want, whoever you might choose would be very careful and go nice and slow. They’d make you comfortable, love. Are you sure you don’t want to try? It’s up to you.” 

His words have you already starting to heat up more than before. You attempt to squeeze your thighs together but Chan’s thick legs are in your way. You’d forgotten that you were practically sitting in his lap. 

“Do you want that, baby?” he questions, noticing the arousal painted on your face and how your scent starts to sweeten the more you think about it. You nod eagerly. “Who do you want to pick for your first time?” 

You think and you think but you just can’t seem to pick one of your alphas over the other. The more you think about it, you’re not sure you can leave any one of them out of the situation… you’ve come to love each and every one of your boyfriends, you were sexually attracted to all of them, and they all make you feel comforted and feel like you’re at home. Your wolf cannot stand to have one and not the others, practically howling in protest. Your stomach twists when you think about how to express this to Chan. 

“Need… you all. I want everyone to be there.” His eyes widen slightly. You can tell he’s more than aroused by the thought of it. 

“You’re sure?” he asks, scanning your expression one final time. 

“Can’t choose. I want all my boyfriends.” 

There’s no judgment in his face whatsoever. You know your boyfriends have all had multiple partners for their ruts before so this wouldn’t be anything new… You were the last to be courted, the last to join the relationship, and so you were the only one who hadn’t crossed that barrier with anyone yet. You’re a little nervous but more than excited for the prospect of what’s to come, to finally cross the line with all eight of them. And you can't wait to tell them. 

When Chan asks if you want to move your nest into the den you agree. The makeshift nest in your closet just isn't going to cut it anymore. You need something suitable for all eight of your alphas. Chan clears the den before you enter and takes the time to explain to all of the boys what is going on while you work on building your communal nest. 

Spreading out your comforter widely across the floor, you start rummaging around the house to find items from everyone. You want the blanket on the couch, the one that smells a little bit like everyone… Chan’s hoodie, of course. Seungmin’s stuffed animals and Felix’s pillow get thrown into the mix. Changbin’s gym clothes, Jisung’s squishmallow, Minho’s dirty sheets… it’s almost perfect, though you almost cry when you find out that Jeongin just recently washed his favorite shirt. You knew it was the one thing that was missing from your nest, and maybe it was the hormones or the pain but that almost seemed like the last straw for you. Jeongin soothes you with his alpha pheromones and promises to heavily re-scent the shirt for you, which will have to do. Once the nest is an amalgamation of every smell swirling together you can’t help but roll around in it. You even find yourself starting to purr. 

When Chan opens the door to the den, you find yourself wanting to show your pack alpha the nest that you’re so proud of. 

“My nest. My nest, alpha, see?” you ask, grabbing his hand and inviting him into your nest. 

“Beautiful nest,” he tells you. You squirm in excitement and smile wide at him. “Did such a good job, omega. Are you ready to invite the other alphas in too?” You nod at him excitedly, your scent sweetening as your alphas enter one by one. With you at the middle of your nest and an alpha on either side of you, two strong pairs of arms engulfing you and three more alphas on each side, you fall asleep with your omega purring in excitement. 

“She fell asleep,” you barely hear Felix point out.  

“She must be emotionally exhausted. Building her nest probably took a lot out of her. She needs us now.” You smile contentedly, happy to be surrounded by the people you love before the throes of your heat take over. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You wake up to a delicious feeling between your legs. You let out a whine as you grind against whatever you feel behind you and it’s only the muffled groan you hear that truly stirs you from your sleep-filled haze. 

“Minho?” you squeak. Sitting up and looking around you, you realize everybody else is still asleep. 

“Mm,” he replies. You feel your face flush in embarrassment and you quickly go to hide your face behind your hands once you realize what you had been doing. He’s quick to grab your hands and put them at your sides, his cat-like eyes boring into your own. “Your heat’s really started, yeah?” You nod pathetically at him, clenching your thighs together to get a little bit of relief. “You can keep riding my thigh if you want to,” he suggests. You squeak when his hands take purchase on your hips, pulling you on top of him. Any protest gets stuck in your throat when his thigh slots in between your legs, placing pressure where you desperately need him most.  

You rock your hips back and forth slightly, scanning Minho’s face for any judgment. Instead, you catch a whiff of his scent spiking in arousal, his black tea and vanilla smelling remnant of a coffee shop. You can’t help but bury your face in his neck, inhaling deeply to better consume his smell. Tiny moans are punched out of you as he guides your hips into him, grinding you back and forth on his thigh. You know you have slick pouring out of you but you can’t seem to care when he feels this good. 

You can tell he’s restraining himself–he must know this is your first time doing anything, really. You've been fighting the urge to kiss him for too long but the sight of his lips caught between his bunny teeth is too hard to resist. You lurch forward, connecting your lips together despite the way your heart beats erratically. The way you squirm against him and the friction of his muscled thigh against your leg, it just isn’t enough. You need more. 

You smell a familiar wave of stormy petrichor and Chan is pulling you off of Minho’s leg before you can protest. He maneuvers your body effortlessly, getting you in the exact position he wants you–lying on your back, knees propped up. His lips trail down your body for a moment, meeting your neck to breathe in your caramel scent. He licks over your scent glands for just a moment as if he were actually ready to devour you, but Minho thankfully quiets your moan with a quick peck to your lips. 

Chan trails lower and lower still until he reaches your shorts, pressing long, open-mouthed kisses to your thighs that has your head spinning. 

His hand reaches between your shorts, fingering your clothed core. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, examining your expression. You nod apprehensively. “I want to use my mouth on you, pretty girl. If you feel uncomfortable at any time or want me to stop, just let me know, okay?” 

“Okay,” you whisper. That’s enough for Chan to slip your shorts and panties down your legs in one fell swoop, his fingertips hot against your skin. You immediately feel the urge to close your legs, especially since you know you’re dripping an obscene amount of slick, but Chan’s strong hands keep them open. The alpha shoots you a gaze that spreads hot throughout your whole body, stern in letting you know not to hide from him. Minho’s hand strokes your face, bringing you back to earth while you relax into his touch. 

When Chan’s tongue licks up your slit and attaches itself to your clit, it’s like electricity spreads through your whole body. You moan into Minho’s hand which has quickly attached itself to your mouth, muffling your noises. 

“Shhh,” he reminds you. You seem to have forgotten that there are six other alphas sleeping in the den at the moment and you’re grateful for his save. “If you want us to stop, blink your eyes three times,” he murmurs. You nod your head, eyes wide. Chan continues to lap and suck at the bundle of nerves between your legs, his fingers coming to grab the slick that spills out of you. Rather than pushing his fingers into you like you expected him to do he softly circles your entrance, getting you used to the feeling. Between Minho working you up on his thigh earlier and the liquid hot desire that you had been fighting off all day, it doesn’t take much to bring you to the edge. 

You can’t help but rock your hips into his face, seeking out more pleasure until his hands hold your hips down effortlessly. “Stay still,” he murmurs. “Take what I give you.” And you do—you take and you take and you take, relishing in every swipe of his tongue and calculated touch. When Minho reaches down to grab your breast over your shirt, thumbing at your nipple, you finally come apart. The two alphas help you through your orgasm, Chan watching you intently from his spot between your legs. He only parts from you with a soft pop once you’re done squirming and your ragged breathing has slowed. 

Finally you notice the smell in the room. It would have been easy to miss over your sweetened caramel and brown sugar, but sure enough— jasmine, lavender, rose, bergamot, sea salt, lime. It must be your heightened sense of smell that causes you to easily pick up the scent of the other six alphas, all in various states of rousing from their sleep. As if on instinct, your scent spiking during your release must have awakened them. 

When Felix opens his arms you gratefully accept his embrace. He has always smelled like the ocean, comforting and refreshing, but the scent comes out much saltier now. You can tell he’s trying to hide just how affected he is. 

“Hi Lix,” you mumble into his chest. He rubs soothing circles on your back. Your emotional connection has always run deep with Felix, even before he asked to court you. His touch and scent has never failed to comfort you, not even now. If he notices your lack of clothes he certainly doesn't comment on them, though you’re not sure if it’s for your sake or his own. 

“Was that okay?” Chan, ever the attentive and protective leader feels the need to ask. His alpha is running wild with the need to check in on you, pleasure you, dote on you… “How do you feel?” 

“Good,” you answer with a small smile. “Felt good.” 

You squirm in Felix’s lap a little. “Then why do you look so embarrassed, baby?” Whelp. You weren’t expecting for him to read you like an open book. 

“S not enough,” you mutter. Chan blinks at you for a moment, prompting you to go on. “I feel like I need something more…” 

“Awww,” Changbin coos. “Baby, do you need an alpha to pop a knot in you?” You find yourself letting out a small gasp at his words, red hot desire burning through your system. That’s exactly what you need. 

You lean towards Changbin and slot your lips together. He certainly wasn’t expecting it but eagerly accepts it and you moan into his mouth, not caring about the seven other alphas in the room currently watching. 

“Do you want a knot?” You’re not even sure who asked the question but you nod so enthusiastically that someone behind you snickers. 

“Who do you want, baby?” Chan asks you. You only have to ponder for a second before the answer is clear. 

“Changbin,” you confess. Maybe it was because he was the first one who suggested it or perhaps his tone, the slight condescending lilt in his voice driving you wild with desire. 

Chan hesitates for a moment and you freeze. Did you say something wrong? 

“I wouldn’t recommend that for your first time, love,” Hyunjin recommends gently. You furrow your brow and your scent must sour at his words—your omega already set her sights on him and you didn’t want anything to interfere. You whine in response. 

“Why?” you pout. 

“Changbin is, uh, the thickest one here? Um, it’ll be hard to take him for your first time.” Hyunjin flushes while you process his words. Oh. Oh. 

You know that the eight of them have been involved, some moreso than others who had previously established relationships in the group, but such an intimate response from Hyunjin surprises you for some reason. Unfortunately, his words don't quite sway you the way that he had hoped. If anything it makes you squirm even more thinking about the way he would fill you up deliciously. 

“Please,” you beg, though you don’t even know what you’re begging for. 

“Why don’t you start with Lixie?” Chan suggests. His words hit you hard when you realize you’re still in the alpha’s lap. Felix, your Lixie and his sea salt and sandalwood and gentle touches… 

“Felix,” you whisper into his ear. “Can I have you?” His eyes are blown wide due to lust and his scent spikes, telling you all you need to know but you wait for him to answer anyway. 

“Of course,” he drawls. His voice has always sent sparks right down to your core but even more so now, you can’t help but instinctively grind into him, causing both of you to let out a low moan at the sensation. Felix pulls down his sweats, the only layer of clothing separating you two, and gently lowers you down to the floor of your nest. You spread your legs open for him and watch as he stares at your glistening core; you have no time to be shy though, not when you’re so desperate that you start to whine. Felix lets out a low laugh before guiding his length between your legs, teasing your entrance with his tip. He pushes into you slowly and waits for you to adjust, your heat fluttering around him and your eyes rolling into the back of your head in bliss.

“Move,” you tell the alpha, and he’s gentle in the way he rocks his hips into yours, slow but deep. Both of your scents swirl around the room overtaken by your arousals and you can’t help but think it smells like salted caramel, and the thought of how perfect your scents compliment one another has you going crazy. “More,” you tell Felix as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your eyes flit to the other alphas in the room who all watch you intently, causing your body to flush more than it already was. Chan’s eyes bore into you and cause you to shudder, but when Felix presses his thumb to your clit and starts to go faster you lose your focus on the other alphas. 

He works you up surprisingly fast and he presses his body closer to yours when you start to writhe underneath him. “So good, omega,” he grunts. “Perfect, sweet omega doing so good for their alpha.” You don’t warn him before you cum because you yourself are not expecting it. Felix looks like he’s trying so hard to hold back and work you through your orgasm but there’s only one thing on your mind. 

“Knot, alpha,” you beg him. “Knot me, please.” Two more harsh thrusts and Felix spills into you, locking his knot into place as you continue to come undone around him with a loud cry. He brushes your hair out of your face and lowers his body onto yours, rearranging your figures into something more comfortable while you wait for his knot to go down. You sigh content in his arms, already feeling more satisfied than just moments ago. 

“You okay?” Felix asks and you hum in approval. You felt more than okay but you didn’t know how to express that. 

“Thank you, Lixie,” is what you say. You lay in his arms, trying not to squirm or think about his thick knot buried in your cunt lest you start to get yourself worked up again. 

“Jesus,” Jeongin finally says, breaking the silence. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Everyone snickers at the youngest, eager alpha and you can tell he’s not lying, a sizeable bulge in his joggers to prove his point. You try not to salivate. 

“C’mere,” you tell the youngest alpha. He looks at you with wide eyes and practically crawls to you, bringing your face into an unexpected, messy kiss. Jeongin has always smelled very citrusy, like lime and grass. His scent reminds you of summer and you fail to restrain from sticking your face right into his neck, licking at his sensitive scent glands. 

“Hi, baby,” he coos. He tries to act nonchalant and unaffected by your actions but his breathing tells another story. You palm at the bulge in his pants and he lets out a small gasp, not expecting it. He watches as you desperately try to get his pants down and reveal him. “Whatcha doing?” he asks finally. “Lixie’s cock isn’t enough? It’s still buried inside you, baby.” 

You flush at his words, feeling hot all over. As if to punctuate his point, Felix pulses from where he is inside you, causing you to let out a low groan. “Wanna touch you,” you pout. 

“Yeah?” he smirks. He wastes no time now in pulling down his joggers, watching as your gaze is transfixed on his cock. It’s endearing, he thinks, that you’re suddenly so obsessed with him and making him feel good. Once revealed your jaw drops at his length; long and skinny but pretty, just like him. You reach your hand up to touch him, to wrap your hand around his girth but he slaps your hand away lightly. He tsks at you, instead pushing his hips forward to rest his cock on your lips, tapping it against them for good measure. “Come on, baby, you can take it,” he urges. With the innate urge to please your alpha you open your mouth and suckle on the tip, tasting his pre-cum coating your mouth. He’s delicious, just as you would have assumed, and you moan around him as he pushes forward slightly. 

Felix curses behind you; you suppose that in your quest to help out the alpha in front of you, you’ve been slowly grinding your hips into the alpha still locked into you with his knot. You couldn’t help it, really, the sight in front of you is just too arousing to be helped. But Felix’s hands grab a hold of your hips, stilling you. 

“Just one more minute,” Felix groans. “My knot… it’s starting to go down.” His voice is pained from overstimulation and so you do the best you can to not move a muscle despite the way the heat between your legs pulsates with need. You focus on Jeongin instead, bobbing your head forward and backward in an attempt to get all of him in your mouth. One of his large hands takes place in your hair, grabbing it but not harsh enough to hurt. It’s just enough for him to be able to take control of your head, using you to take over his own desires. Even still the alpha restrains, not pushing far enough into your mouth for you to choke. When you open your eyes to stare at Jeongin above you he is the epitome of beauty, his toned abs and v-line prominent from where his shirt is now lifted with the corner placed into his mouth. He looks downright sinful with the way he stares down at you with dark eyes. 

You’re manhandled the second that Felix finally pulls out of you. A pair of hands are on your hips and you’re being pulled off of Jeongin and onto all fours, another alpha pushing into you before you have time to truly comprehend what is going on. The smell of roses and vanilla floods your senses and you know that it’s Hyunjin’s doing, eager to please you and fill you up before you have to beg someone else to do so. You’re thankful you can reach Jeongin even better in this position with no need to crane your neck. Jeongin pushes in once again, using your mouth as Hyunjin rocks his hips into you from behind. 

You feel so full like this, your head starting to feel cloudy when the only thing you can see, smell, or feel are your two alphas. They set up a brutal yet sturdy rhythm between them, Hyunjin in your guts at the same time Jeongin hits the back of your throat. You feel something wet run down your face and Jeongin coos when he sees the tears from your lower lashes start to spill, quick to run his thumbs on your cheeks to wipe them away. He grabs your hair and pulls out, holding you up as he asks if you’re alright. You nod and shut your eyes again, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. The only thing you crave at this moment is your alpha and his cock, the need to be thoroughly used for his pleasure while Hyunjin gives you pleasure of your own overwhelming. 

Jeongin chokes out a breathy moan when he’s close, spewing praises in your ear that are downright filthy. His grip on your head gets a little more harsh and your face is straight against his pubic bone as he rocks his face into yours two, three more times until he’s spilling his warmth down your throat. 

“Fuckk,” Hyunjin groans from behind you. “She’s so tight, she’s clenching around me.” Before you even have time to recuperate, Jeongin is pressing his mouth into yours in a searing, messy kiss. You moan straight into his mouth, unexpecting of the sudden affection. 

 “You gonna cum baby?” he whispers, a sly grin on his face. “Gonna cum on alpha’s knot?” Your eyes roll back in your head, focusing on the pleasure building up. You rock yourself back onto Hyunjin’s cock, feeling the precipice of your orgasm. 

“Close,” you warn. “Hyunjin, please…” Jeongin grabs your chin and makes you look up at him and the sight of the alpha above you… 

You and Hyunjin come apart at the same time, your powerful orgasm shaking through your body and causing his knot to slot in place as he releases inside of you with a groan. 

Your ears start to ring with the power of your orgasm and you vaguely recognize Hyunjin lay you down on your stomach, his body slumping on top of yours as gently as he can muster. Someone strokes your hair and you lean into their touch, sighing contentedly. When Hyunjin finally pulls out you let out a whine of protest but somebody pulls you into their arms, holding you close. You’re rocked back and forth as someone whispers into your ear and it’s soothing. You’re surprised when the smell of lavender and laundry hits your nose because Seungmin has never been this gentle or doting on you before. 

You blink your eyes open to see him staring softly down at you. It makes warmth flood your heart because you and Seungmin… have always had a playful, teasing relationship full of banter. He wasn’t one to coddle you or necessarily go out of his way to say kind things to you. He was more the type to show his love through actions than through physical affection or words of affirmation. Like memorizing your coffee order, giving you his hoodies to wear, folding your laundry for you when you’ve had a bad day, or taking you out to the arcade or to watch baseball games with him. His love was often unspoken and so the way he holds you so close to his chest, it makes light tears flood down your face with adoration. 

“Seung,” you whisper. His hand strokes through your hair. He must be feeling a certain type of way, or rather, knows this is exactly what you need right now. Especially as a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen and he cradles you even closer. 

“You feelin okay?” he asks, voice laced with concern. “You can take a break if you need to.” You shake your head, the proposition of not having every one of your alphas distressing enough for a whine to leave your lips. “Hey, we’re not going anywhere, pup,” he tells you. “If you need an alpha cock that bad, there are eight of them to choose from.” 

There’s the Seungmin you know. You hate to admit how his words are sent straight to your core. You’ve always loved your banter and teasing nature, and right now it has you red hot to your bones. You feel the slick pour from your legs and you whine again, shoving your head straight into his neck. 

“You’re gonna act all shy now?” he scoffs. “Gonna act like you didn’t just choke on Jeonginnie’s cock ten minutes ago?” Your body burns at his words and you squirm in his lap, causing him to chuckle. “I can give you what you need if you ask nicely, pup,” he tells you, laying you flat on your back. You cover your face with your hands and he growls, pinning your arms at your sides. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

“That was pathetic,” he laughs. “You can do better than that.” 

“Seung, please,” you babble, squirming desperately beneath his gaze. “Want you… need you please alpha, it hurts, want your knot, please take care of me…” Well, that seems to be exactly what he was looking for as he lets out a pleased shudder at your words. You watch, licking your lips as he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down just enough to let his cock out. He teases it against your folds but doesn’t make you wait long before he pushes in, gentle but deliberate in his need to satiate your desires. 

You let out a content moan at being filled by him. His arms on either side of your head, he starts rocking his hips into yours. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he softly grinds into you. 

When you hear a wet sound behind you, you immediately turn your head. Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Jisung on his knees with Minho’s cock shoved down his throat, one hand gripped harshly in his hair as he maneuvers him the way he wants. The sight is sinful, pornographic, nauseatingly attractive as your boyfriend looks so pliant and submissive for the other. 

A light smack to your face draws your attention back to Seungmin. “Dumb omega,” he says in a teasing lilt. “Pay attention to the alpha that’s fucking you, yeah?” You nod pathetically at him, trying hard to concentrate despite the lewd sounds that come from behind you. He makes it so easy to pay attention though, his cock bullying in and out of you in a way that has you seeing stars. You’ve always wanted to see him like this, for him to lose his composure because of you. And he’s still holding together so well, barely audible panting and low groans escaping his throat when his hips slam against yours just right…  You want more, though. You want his smug grin to be wiped off of his face, want to see him lose himself to the pleasure in the same way you are. Right now, ‘this is for you,’ is what he’s telling you, and though he’s feeling good he’s only focused on you, his omega, and fucking her dumb through her heat because that’s what you need. You’re leaning up on your elbows before you can process it and pulling him into a messy, wet kiss–one that distracts him long enough for his pace to falter and for you to push him onto his back. 

“What–” Seungmin starts, taken aback. His eyes widen slightly and his brow furrows in confusion but you’re taking charge of your pleasure now, using him while showing him you’re not all dumb omega, that you can take care of him just as well. You grab his hands and place them onto your breasts, squeezing around his hands so he gets the point to hold them the way you want. And he immediately responds, kneading the flesh and thumbing around your sensitive nipples. 

You start rocking your hips and the satisfaction you get when he lets out a groan and throws his head back is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You want him to make that sound again and again, want to ride him until you make him pop his knot inside you. And when your hips slam up and down into his, completely setting the pace and feeling his big cock hitting all the right places inside you, you feel smug. Smug because Seungmin has his eyes closed in pleasure, his mouth open and panting, unable to control where he puts his hands. The stoic, smarmy alpha act is gone and now all he can focus on is your tight pussy and the pleasure you give right back to your alpha. And you’ve always loved his voice, his singing beautiful and melodic in all the right ways, but now… Now? You would hear those pitchy whines every day for the rest of your life if you could. 

The best part about this new position is that it gives you a perfect view of the show you were missing. As you bounce rhythmically on Seungmin’s cock you eagerly watch your Sungie get his throat fucked relentlessly. His big round eyes are scrunched shut, face dripping saliva and tears as he moans around Minho’s cock, pistoning into him at a brutal pace. The hand is still tight in Jisung’s hair, effectively holding him in place for him to just use… And Minho’s face is cat-like, predatory with narrowed eyes and a sly grin. You clench around Seungmin, losing your pace as you turn your focus to the show in front of you, your heart beating rapidly when Minho turns to look you in the eye and watch the way you chase your own pleasure. A thin glean of sweat coats his features and when Jisung gurgles around him, making a lewd pathetic sound, Minho throws his head back with an open mouth. You think it might be the most beautiful scene you’ve ever witnessed in your life. Then Minho pulls his cock out of Jisung’s mouth with a wet pop, and Jisung sticks his tongue out as if expecting what comes next. When Minho finishes all over Jisung’s face and eagerly laps up what he can, you cum too, the sight too irresistible to ignore the way your body wants to respond to it. And so you grind yourself against Seungmin again and your pussy squeezes him so deliciously, as if trying to milk out every last drop. It’s no surprise he follows suit, pumping you full of his release as his knot settles comfortably at your entrance. 

You let out a loud, dramatic sigh as you collapse into Seungmin’s arms, relishing in the way he strokes your hair and draws little symbols on your back. There he is–the soft Seungmin that's comforting and caring, and not the Seungmin you usually see on a daily basis. You’ll take it, never one to complain about cuddles or a little gentle caress from your alpha. You nuzzle into his neck, letting that fresh lavender smell overwhelm your senses as you relax. You even start to doze off a little bit, your muscles tired from overexertion and your head nestled comfortably in the crook of Seungmin’s neck. Even though you’re both a little sticky from sweat, your bodies feel like they were meant to be pressed together like this. 

It doesn’t take long for Seungmin’s knot to deflate but you find yourself letting out a whine in its absence. “Shhh, pup,” you hear him coo. You vaguely find yourself thinking you want more, need more but you’re flooded with the potent scent of petrichor that makes you feel so pliant and sleepy you can’t help but succumb to sleep. You want to whine, curse Chan for using his pheromones on you but you can’t bring yourself to when you feel a wave of security and comfort engulf your senses. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You’re in an in-between state where you can hear what’s going on around you but you can’t move, limbs and eyelids too heavy and protesting the signals your brain is sending. 

“That was so hot,” someone says, barely audible. That at least floods you with warmth and satisfaction–your pack thinks you’re hot. 

“I feel bad for making her fall asleep but she needed it, she was starting to push herself,” someone says, changing the subject. You can at least put two and two together and figure that it’s Chan expressing his regret. “Even if she sleeps for a few minutes, her body needs it.” Someone else hums in agreement. 

“Was mean,” you slur. You slowly regain use of your extremities, fingers twitching then your whole hand. It takes some effort but you’re able to rub the sleep from your eyes. 

“Sorry baby,” Chan sighs. He strokes your hair with deft fingers and you think you can forgive him, just this once. It is your first ever heat, after all, and who would you trust but your one and only pack alpha?

“You owe me one,” you say with a pout, and you open one eye to shoot him a playful glare. 

“Anything,” he concedes. “But I think you have other company.” As you sit up and wiggle away from a sleeping Seungmin’s grasp, you notice the subject in question. A whiny, squirmy Jisung, eyes flickering between you and Minho at rapid speed. 

“Please, hyung,” he squeaks. “She’s awake now, please? I’ll be good. I’ll be so good,” he babbles. Minho just watches with his arms crossed and squints at you, the hint of a grin splaying on his face. When he waves his wrist dismissively at the younger alpha he all but leaps into your arms. He kisses your face wet and erratic and you realize he smells more like Minho’s vanilla than his own bergamot. That thought alone, that Minho has already laid his claim on him is enough to have you squeezing your legs together, remembering the scene from not long ago. 

His arms grope every part of your naked flesh within reach and you feel thoroughly felt, thoroughly wanted. You moan his name and babble and grab him back, arching your back in an attempt to press your core against his. He doesn’t protest–you’re so wet that his length accidentally slides into you and makes a loud squelching sound that causes you both to squeak. When Jisung ruts into you it’s desperate, messy and all-consuming. He barely pulls out before pushing back in, trying to savor the feeling of being inside you without having to fully leave. 

A hand on his shoulder causes him to jump and it’s Minho with his devious smile. He still wants to have control over the situation, over Jisung, and his presence serves as that reminder. “Don’t you dare think about cumming before your omega,” he orders. “Only pathetic alphas can’t please their omegas, right Sungie?” Jisung nods frantically, his grip on your hips both bruising and grounding. 

You’re not expecting Minho to bend down and start lapping at your clit so it takes you by surprise, your legs thrashing out only to be held in place by the two alphas. His precision counteracts Jisung’s reckless abandon, his eyes narrowing and darting between watching you and Jisung. As if to add fuel to the fire, he occasionally tongues at your entrance making sure to pay attention to Jisung’s length pistoning in and out of you. 

“Good job,” Minho purrs condescendingly. You’re rocking your hips up in a desperate attempt to get Jisung deeper, to feel Minho’s tongue right where you want it. “Look at how you’re making our baby omega feel.” Jisung’s eyes are half-lidded at the alpha’s statement, his tongue sticking out as he pants and whines. 

“M close,” you warn Jisung. You watch him closely, no longer paying attention to Minho or his actions. 

“Oh god,” he whimpers. “Please, please cum. I’m gonna–gonna fill you up so good. Gonna cum so deep, can’t hold it anymore, y/nnie, please–” 

Your orgasm crashes over you and Jisung explodes the second he feels you clench around him. He cums and cums and you feel his warmth so deep inside you, his cock pulsing as his release hits him just as hard as yours. His knot locks in place and you both let out a sigh of relief. He collapses onto you and you hold him tight, watching Minho rub circles into his back and your face alternatively. At one point Minho reaches in between yours and Jisung’s bodies just to thumb at your clit which makes both you and Jisung whine at the oversensitivity and for Minho to smile devilishly. 

You think Jisung might have fallen asleep by the way his breaths even out, not even budging when his knot finally deflates. When you shoot Minho a frantic glance he is already moving, taking Jisung in his arms and prying him off of you. Though he whines at the separation he immediately curls up into Minho’s arms so he can’t be terribly distressed. 

You throw an arm over your eyes and smile. You even let out a light laugh because how can this feel this good? How can your alphas take such good care of you, be with you during your first ever heat (which is supposed to be stressful), and make it so comforting and pleasant? 

You smell jasmine and patchouli before you even see Changbin and you already want to press your legs together. Changbin is the thickest one here, Hyunjin had said. It’ll be hard to take him. You’ve never been one to back down from a challenge but you’re already second guessing yourself when Changbin fills you up with his thick fingers. Just two of them and you feel so full, but then he pulls his fingers out and sucks Jisung’s release from his fingers. The sight is almost obscene but your heart rate picks up, clearly intrigued by his actions. 

“Want a taste?” he asks with one eyebrow quirked. You open your mouth and then shut it again before nodding at him shyly. You’re expecting for him to reach down in between you again, to find more of that white substance to scoop up and feed you but instead he leans forward, grabbing your jaw by the hinges and forcing your mouth open. 

“Tongue out,” he demands. You do as you're told, sticking your tongue out as wide as it will go. Changbin leans even closer and spits directly onto your eagerly waiting tongue before lightly slapping your face, signifying for you to close your jaw and swallow. You do taste Jisung a little bit, a bitter mix of salt and his signature bergamot smell. For good measure, you stick your tongue out again to show Changbin that you swallowed every last drop. He smiles at you and you return it happily until he pulls down his pants. 

Fuck. 

They weren’t kidding–he was thick and long, his girth almost resembling a can of soda. You crawl backwards instinctively, wanting to say something intelligent like ‘there’s no way that’s going to fit inside of me.’ Of course, no words form and Changbin responds to your hesitation by grabbing an ankle, pulling you towards him alarmingly fast. 

“It’s okay,” he coos. “Alpha will take good care of you, alright?” You whimper but nod your head, watching as he drags his length up and down your center. He positions his tip at your entrance and you can already feel the stretch. You’re well-lubricated with enough slick and cum now to at least make it a little easier–you’re not sure how you would manage without–but you still feel inch by inch stretch you out. 

“Big,” you complain, squirming under his intense gaze. You can tell he wants to make some snide remark in return but instead he just blushes, his ears turning red to indicate your words have some sort of effect on him. 

Finally he’s seated all the way inside of you and if you look down you can even see the slightest bulge in your tummy. He must see it too because he groans and flings his head back. 

“Woah,” Hyunjin comments from somewhere behind you. “That’s so hot. He’s in her guts.” You laugh as Changbin says something filthy to him in return. 

He hasn’t even started moving yet, staring at the bump in your stomach. When he presses down on it you both moan, the pleasure heightened. 

“Look at that, babe,” he instructs. “While I fuck you full watch the way my cock hits your little tummy.” He starts in earnest then, the way he thrusts into you at full force enough to knock the air out of your lungs. He punches little noises out of you every time your hips connect though he’s not exactly quiet himself. 

“That’s gonna be me next,” someone whispers in your ear. You look up to find an intimidating Chan lingering over you and he grabs you, positioning himself right behind you so he can hold you still while whispering improper words in your ear. “Gonna fuck my omega so good, hmm? Gonna stuff you full of my cock over and over again.” You squirm but he has a vice grip on you, leaning forward to nibble on your ear. His hot breath against your skin has your body running hot but you feel him everywhere, smell him and his petrichor with every breath you take. Even while Changbin is fucking the living daylights out of you Chan is there, distracting you from every other sensation. “Take what we give you,” he snaps when you move again. “Are you so cock-drunk and greedy that you won’t listen to your alphas?” 

You shake your head, tears pricking at your lash line. “No, Channie, alpha, I’ll be good, gonna be good,” you promise. Changbin grabs your legs and hoists them over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half while he bullies his cock in and out of you. 

“Too much,” you wail at a particularly deep thrust and you hear Changbin scoff. 

“Too much?” he mocks. “You don’t think your alphas know what’s too much for you? Silly omega.” 

His words cause your toes to curl and your body to tense and before you can even warn him you cum around him so tightly you swear you black out for a second. 

“So tight,” he comments and you let out a high-pitch sound and close your eyes tight while your orgasm continues to pulse. He fucks you so hard and fast through it that your body is overwhelmed and fuck, you’re cumming again. 

Chan and Changbin both watch as your release squirts out of you, covering his lower abdomen and causing him to glisten in a way that’s obscene. But boy did that do something to Changbin, the scene so hot that he pushes his hips into you one final time and stills as he finishes. You cry out when his knot locks into place, not used to an intrusion that large and you think there’s no way you could move, you’re just too full. 

When you lean your head back you see Chan smiling at you with a glint in his eyes you’d never seen before. 

“What?” you ask him as he leaves small touches along your body, paying close attention to your collarbone and shoulder. 

“Nothin,” he responds quickly. He waits a beat and then… “You need to take a break before we start? Need to take a nap?” It’s sweet that he’s checking in on you when you know he’s been dying for a chance to ravage you, his scent giving him away. 

“Not a chance in Hell,” you laugh. “Alpha, you better fuck my brains out or I’ll find someone else to do it.” You’re bluffing and you both know it, his eyes darkening at your attempt to rile him up. You’ve heard about Chan and his tendency to get in these moods, his need to put people in their places and essentially… tame them. You knew you could push his buttons and he would show you a side of him you’ve never seen before while simultaneously trusting him to reduce you to a whiney, submissive omega for him. It’s what you wanted. He knew it too. You can tell when he tongues at the inside of his cheek and smiles, looking up at the ceiling as if to calm himself down. 

“Cute,” he comments as if he’s talking about you and not to you. “Very cute. But when I have you crying because you can’t cum again and alpha’s cock is too much for you, remember that it was you who tried to be cute, and it was you who riled me up, yeah?” You gulp nervously. Chan looks… predatory, observing you as if determining when the right time is to strike. 

“I could’ve been so sweet to you,” he continues on. Your breath catches in your throat. “You could’ve gotten sweet, loving Chan to help you through your heat, to fuck you slow and gentle. But that’s not what you want, right? You want the big mean alpha to ‘fuck your brains out?’ 

Changbin’s knot deflates and you wrap your legs around him in a last-ditch effort to get him to stay, to maybe fool Chan into believing that his knot is still locked deep inside you. But you’re not that lucky because Chan is quick to laugh and grab your legs, prying you off of Changbin as if you weigh nothing. 

“Don’t be smart now,” he warns. “Finish what you started.” He pulls you close to him, sitting you down in his lap on his prominent bulge. He kisses you once harshly before trailing down, sucking a large mark onto your neck right below your scent gland. His teeth nip right where your mating bite would be, teasing you. 

Your eyes flicker to everyone else who seems to be watching in awe. Hyunjin has crawled into Changbin’s arms now that he’s available but both of their eyes are glued to you as if watching a cinematic masterpiece. 

“He’s so hot when he gets into his ‘alpha’ mode,” Felix whispers to Seungmin. You wanted to agree with him but your senses are so overwhelmed with petrichor and mint. Chan’s scenting you, claiming you as his as thoroughly as he can for the other alphas to see. 

“They can’t help you,” Chan comments when he sees you shoot Minho a desperate look. He gives you a fake pout in return. “It’s me and you, omega. Your safe word is pineapple, okay? I will only stop when you say that word, otherwise it’s game on.” You nod at him and he grips your chin harshly, making you look straight into his eyes. 

“Words.” 

“Yes, alpha.” 

Someone lets out a shaky breath. 

He’s quick to maneuver you the way he wants, positioning you on your knees with your back facing him. You turn behind you to look at him but he grabs the back of your neck and pushes you face first into your nest. You hear him unbuckling his belt and you want to look so bad, to touch but he positioned you a certain way and you don’t want to disobey already. 

Chan says nothing as he pushes his length into you, grabbing your hips and letting out a groan as he bottoms out. He pulls out and slams back in, causing you to lurch forward. Your hands grab at anything, a pillow or t-shirt in order to ground yourself as he sets a brutal pace. 

At some point you hear him scoff and he reaches forward and grabs your arms, holding them behind your back. This lifts your face and chest off of the ground and he uses this new leverage to pound into you.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Perfect little cunt. Gonna… fill you up. Gonna make you round with my pups.” You gasp. You would have never thought he had such a filthy mouth and here you are, looking at the unfiltered version of him. 

“Chan,” you moan, clenching around him. His thighs slap against the back of yours and you can feel him so deep inside of you that you let out sounds that can only be described as animalistic. Your orgasm builds up so fast that you barely have time to warn him, letting out a loud cry instead. He fucks you through it until the afterwaves have worn off and your head slumps forward. He lets go of your hands and gives you a second to recuperate and then he’s lifting you up again, cradling you in his arms. 

You’re about to question what he’s doing before he slides into again and you squeak. He shushes you and grabs your thighs, lifting you up and down on his cock. 

“You’ll let me use you, omega, right?” he grunts. “Let me use you like a little toy until I cum?” You nod and blink tears away at the overstimulation–you want to do this, want to be good for him. His grip will likely leave Chan-shaped fingerprints in your hips and that thought alone makes you feel warm, your wolf liking the thought of your pack alpha claiming you for everyone else to see. You throw your head back and Chan lets out a groan as if he’s in pain. “Don’t do that,” he whines. “Don’t show me your pretty neck like that. You’ll make me want to bite you.” 

You gasp, your heart beating twice as fast in excitement. You’ve talked about mating bites before, but since the relationship was still so new you had assumed everyone would wait until the courting phase was over. But that thought of being his, belonging to him and the pack? 

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?” he grins. He bounces you up even higher just to slam you back down onto his cock, relishing in the way your face scrunches in pleasure. 

“Her scent spiked,” Seungmin comments intelligently. “She really wants you to bite her.” You want to make a snide remark, to tell him to shut up but nothing comes out besides a broken sound. 

“Yeah?” Chan teases. “Would omega like it if I put a bite right… here?” He leans forward and places his teeth right on your scent gland, right where a large hickey was already forming from his previous actions. He bites you, lightly, not enough to mark or seal the bond, but it’s enough to make you cum again. 

You’re surprised, he’s surprised, and you practically convulse from the intensity of it. His hips stutter and he falters, clearly taken aback. 

“Gonna… gonna, fuck,” he gets out. You can tell he was going to say something that probably would have made you squirm from the lewdness of it but he can’t get it out because he thrusts once and then twice before he releases inside of you. He throws his head back and opens his mouth to let out a loud cry and he looks angelic in a sense, a thin sheen of sweat covering his features and thick muscles that makes him look like he’s glowing. You help the best you can, weakly lifting your hips to help him ride through his orgasm but his knot locks into place and he holds you so tight in his arms you think you might suffocate. He cradles you towards his neck and places you right into his scent gland and a sense of serenity washes over you. 

You’re thoroughly spent. You feel satiated, no longer thinking about your pleasure or the desire that had overcome you. You can rest and you very well could fall asleep in Chan’s arms right now, with his cock still seated inside you but you know his protective inner alpha would never let him. Jeongin brings you water to drink out of a straw and you oblige, drinking every last drop in record speed. Minho is close behind with a sandwich–when did he even leave the nest? But he hand-feeds you every bite as you breathe in the scent of your eight boyfriends. Your nest smells like love. It smells like home, like the eight people who have vowed to take care of you.

Chan hears you sniffle and immediately tenses. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “Are you hurt? Was I too rough?” 

You laugh as you pry yourself away from his neck to look at him, grabbing his face with two hands as you plant a kiss to his lips. When you pull away he gives you a confused look, brows furrowed with pursed lips. 

“I just love you,” you confess. “I love you all.” He lets out a sigh of relief when he realizes the tears were happy in nature. 

“We love you too,” he replies with a kiss. “We’ll have to talk about this mating thing, you know.” A blush creeps up your face when you remember how eagerly your body reacted to the prospect of getting bit. 

“I know,” you answer. “Just… want to be yours.” 

“Babygirl you already are.” 

When his knot finally deflates a pair of strong arms lifts you off of him. Changbin helps you lay down and Seungmin is waiting with a wet cloth to wipe you clean. You don’t even have to lift a muscle but you do, leaping into the arms of a sleepy but sated Felix. You nuzzle close to him and Jisung clings to your back immediately. You register a flurry of hands and legs all moving together to join the cuddle pile taking place in your nest but your eyes flutter closed and you let out a content sigh. 

You knew that one day you would have to get your heat and though you were apprehensive about it, you should’ve known you’d have your pack to help you get through it. You should’ve known it was okay to open up to them about in the first place and you should’ve known they would take care of you without blinking an eye. Now you know and it has only reinforced your love and trust of them. 

You fall asleep in seconds surrounded by the warmth of your alphas, your boyfriends, your pack. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @lostgirlinthewoodss masterlist thanks for reading <3

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.

“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”

“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.

“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.

derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.

“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”

emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”

three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.

he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.

“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.

before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.

“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”

“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”

“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”

“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”

“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.

“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.

“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”

all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.

spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”

“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.

with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”

“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”

“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”

“i don’t like this conversation either.”

[nadvs]

basketballplayer!rafe doing body shots off of cheerleader!reader and everybody is around them hyping them up and recording. after rafe carries her to a room in the house to fuck cause he’s hornyyyy

aaaaa YES i love their college days 🤭

based on this fic! 18+!

rafe is already buzzed when she arrives.

“your wife’s here!” his housemate shouts over the music. rafe grins when she walks into the crowded party with a couple of her friends.

it’s been just over a week since they became official and scrapped their ‘best friends’ title, and his teammates love that they can taunt him for being ‘married’ without him telling them shut up or it’s not like that.

she’s more uncovered than she is clothed in her shorts and tank-top. he’s seen her naked so many times and knowing what she looks like underneath those flimsy pieces of fabric makes his groin tighten already.

she drapes her arms over his firm shoulders to hug him in greeting and he pulls her by the waist and presses his lips against hers. boisterous jeers surround them.

“are they ever going to stop?” she mumbles into his ear as his friends holler, his cheek warm against hers.

“don’t think so.” she can hear the smile in his voice. she knows he has authority as captain and can get the guys to stop if he really wants them to. but maybe he likes the reminder that they’re really together now. “how are you, baby?”

“i had a shitty day,” she tells him.

“how come?” rafe pulls back, gazing at her through softer eyes.

“my classes dragged,” she tells him. “practice was annoying. and now i gotta deal with you.”

“shut up,” he mutters with a laugh. “i’m the best part of your day.”

“is that what you tell yourself?”

“do you need to get out of my house?”

“sure,” she says, pretending to step back. his fingers wrap around her wrist as he tugs her towards him. she laughs, pressed up against him again.

“we’re doing shots,” a voice behind her says, startling her. rafe laughs when she jumps in his arms.

“good,” she says. “i obviously need a drink.”

rafe stands behind her, hands on her hips, as she throws back a couple of vodka shots, looking at him with an adorable wince as the liquor burns down her throat.

“cameron!” they hear. rafe’s housemate liam captures their attention, along with a few other partygoers. “you ever hear that saying about how your girlfriend is the best shot glass?”

laughs scatter across the crowd.

“are we about to get peer pressured into doing a body shot?” she asks with a smile and shake of her head, looking up at her boyfriend.

“i mean, if we have to…” he says. his face is flushed pink and his lids are low. he’s maybe one shot away from being plastered. and she’s starting to feel the buzz from her shots, too. maybe that’s why lying on the dining room table in front of everyone doesn’t sound so crazy.

she settles on the hard surface on her back, her palms over her eyes as she laughs, unable to believe that they’re really doing this.

she lays her arms at her sides and can see a few phones pointed at her as rafe stands by the edge of the table, clumsily getting a few things ready.

“i’m doing tequila,” rafe slurs over the music. she laughs.

“is that a good idea?” she half-shouts.

he holds out a lime wedge over her and she rolls her eyes before opening her mouth just wide enough to let him prop it between her teeth.

rafe’s fingers are hot as he pulls up the hem of her top, exposing her stomach and the bottom of her bra. he loves that the girl everyone is looking at right now is his.

he leans over her, his dimples deep in his cheeks as he smirks, and bends down to run his tongue up the side of her neck.

everyone watching hoots loudly and she feels her cheeks burn. they’ve been affectionate in front of people before, but never sexual like this.

he leaves a warm line of his spit on her, allowing the salt he shakes over her skin to stick.

rafe lifts the tequila bottle, hand a bit shaky as he concentrates on pouring it in her belly button. it’s hilarious, considering how precise and steady he is on the court, to see him so clumsy.

“wait, wait,” he says, a lazy smile on his face, “i need to focus.”

“then focus,” she laughs.

the tequila is cool as it forms a puddle on her navel. she shakes as she laughs, making some of it spill over on her side.

“stay still,” rafe drawls, still smiling, his hands firm on her hips.

“hurry up,” she says, laughing. she’s glad that even their relationship has changed, it hasn’t much, still bickering even when they’re drunk.

he quickly shifts to lick the salt on her neck, then he moves to press his open mouth against her stomach, sucking the liquor off of her body.

rafe just barely grimaces as he swallows the sharp tequila. he shifts back up to bite the lime in her mouth, but impatiently spits it out on the table and takes the opportunity to kiss her.

“that’s not part of it!” she hears one of his friends shout. rafe smiles against her lips, dipping his tongue into her mouth, and she laughs, cradling his jaw with both her hands, tasting the bitter alcohol.

“we need to go upstairs,” rafe mumbles when he pulls away, inches away from her. she knows what he sounds like when he’s turned on. she sees his hand over his groin, hiding that he’s hard.

“should i flash everyone to distract them?” she jokes.

“don’t fuck around,” he laughs. “come on.”

he yanks her off the table by her hips. if he goes another minute without being inside her, he might just go insane.

“alright, bye, i guess?” liam calls loudly as they rush up the stairs together.

rafe’s pushes her onto his bed, kissing her fast and rough. they strip off each other’s clothes, breathing heavily, hot skin quickly making contact.

“get on your knees,” he orders. “ass up.”

she obeys, fingers bunching in his sheets as she feels his big hands run down her bare back. his hand comes down hard on her ass, making her gasp in pleasure.

when she feels the head of his cock up against her, she arches her back, hungry for him.

he takes in the sight, her ass in the air for him, her middle gleaming with wetness. he rubs the tip against her entrance just to taunt her before finally pushing forward.

“fuck,” he whispers as he starts to sink into her. she arches her back even more so he can quickly plunge deeper into her.

rafe doesn’t take it slow. he pulls back and then forward immediately, finding his pace and slamming into her with his hands on her hips.

she exhales with every thrust, moaning over the sound of the bass-heavy music downstairs.

“i bet every guy down there wishes they could fuck you,” he says hoarsely. “but who’s fucking you, huh? tell me.”

“you are,” she groans.

“lying on that table like that,” rafe mutters. “i wanted to fuck you right there.”

she moans into the mattress as he plunges into her even harder and faster. when his hand drags down her stomach and over her clit, rubbing in tight circles, she starts to see stars.

he feels her clenching around him, her walls fluttering and her body shaking. she comes with a loud moan, loving that she doesn’t have to worry about anyone hearing like she usually does when they fuck in his room.

he grips the back of her neck to keep her steady so he can fuck her as hard as he wants to, his groans low with every rough thrust.

her thighs start to ache as he pounds in her and when his hips start to stutter against her, she knows he’s close. he squeezes the back of her neck as he reaches his peak, coming inside her in hard jerks.

rafe needs a moment before he can get up to get her a towel. she’s lying on her back when he comes into the room again, wiping the mess off of her, albeit clumsily from how drunk he is.

they laugh at nothing together, and he settles beside her, loving that her instinct is to wrap her arms around him again. his cheek is on her heaving chest as she cuddles him.

it’s almost unbelievable to her how they can go from fucking so roughly to hugging so fast. she starts to stroke his hair, still catching her breath. she doesn’t know if she even has the strength to go back downstairs.

she lets her eyelids flutter shut, still riding her high, hugging her boyfriend with no intention of letting go any time soon.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: fic for #13 on the 13th! i love mat and squeaks so much and the fact that you guys love them so much too just makes my heart expand like the grinch’s 🤍 they’re my favorites to write for and i hope you guys enjoy this one! so much more mat and squeaks to come 🥰

word count: 6.4k

tw: mentions of past miscarriages, mentions of fertility issues, anxiety, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy and all that goes along with it

summary: you and mat have an early christmas gift for talia (and inadvertently, the rest of the family too)

It’s way too early in the morning, cold and dark outside when Mat finds you in the bathroom, head in the toilet while you vomit. He gathers back your hair in a fist and brushes the stray wisps off your forehead. Otherwise, he’s quiet, just providing support for you.

You finish with one last dry heave and he holds your hand while you get shakily to your feet, leaning your free hand on the countertop. He keeps a hand solid on your lower back while fishing out a miniature bag of oyster crackers from a drawer in the vanity and sliding the Listerine bottle closer to you.

One swish of mouthwash and a few oyster crackers later, you’re feeling better. Not even close to perfect or normal, but better.

Mat opens his arms for you to step in and lean your cheek against his shoulder. His arms wrap around your upper back and yours loop to rest at his lower back. He’s warm and smells like the bergamont and lime Aesop soap bar in your shower and Tide laundry detergent, a little like animal crackers too, which is probably leftover from Talia waking up after he got home from Toronto the night before and making him come lay in her bed with her until she fell back asleep. Of course, Mat had fallen asleep in the too-small bed, the both of them snoring quietly when you left your bed to go find him.

“Lucky number thirteen,” he mumbles against the top of your head. His breath ruffles your hair and you snuggle closer to his chest. The worn fabric of his undershirt is soft against your cheek.

“And three days,” you reply, stomach flipping slightly. Whether it’s nausea or anxiety, you’re not sure. Likely a healthy combination of both.

“And three days,” Mat agrees. His hands rub circles over your back and you’re soothed enough that you could go back to sleep. Too bad you have a million things to do today, things to check off your list with only three days to go before Christmas.

“Maybe we should wait,” you say after a beat of comfortable silence. “Maybe we should wait for fourteen or fifteen weeks. It’s longer.”

It’s safer, you think but don’t say.

Thirteen weeks is longer than any of your past pregnancies too, other than Talia’s. But it still feels so early and so fragile. You’re trying so hard to be excited, and you are, but that excitement is tamped down by fear and anxiety.

Mat kisses the crown of your head. “Doctor said everything looked really good last week. And you’ve still got morning sickness, which you —“ He cuts himself off, but you know what he was going to say.

‘Which you didn’t with the last few’ - your symptoms had disappeared so early and you thought it was a blessing, that you weren’t vomiting every morning, that you weren’t as tired as you’d been with Talia. Turned out to be nightmare after nightmare.

But you nod against his chest, feeling grateful for the morning sickness that’s shown no sign of stopping, as long as it means a happy, healthy baby in just over six months. June can’t come soon enough.

“We can wait to tell T,” Mat continues, picking up as if he hadn’t stopped mid-sentence. “If you want. But Doctor Harmon said we were okay to start telling people and I think she’ll really like that Christmas present.”

At a delightfully hilarious five and a half, Talia’s been asking about a sibling pretty consistently for two or so years now. Especially after hanging around the team and seeing all the siblings in action. You know she’ll be thrilled for a baby brother or sister and that’s what worries you a little. If it goes badly, if it ends like the others, it’s not just yours and Mat’s heartbreak. It’s Talia’s too.

And you can handle your heartbreak, but you never want Talia to experience that.

“I can hear you thinking,” Mat chuckles, squeezing you closer to his chest. “I know you’re worried, I am too. But how can we let that perfectly wrapped present go to waste?”

His joke lands and you giggle, knowing the box hidden under your bed with Talia’s gift is wrapped with messy corners and too much tape, a Mat Barzal specialty. He’d insisted on wrapping the gift, “contributing to the process” since you were keeping the real present all bubble wrapped and safe in your womb.

“Okay, yes, yeah,” you repeat a few times, convincing yourself. “Let’s tell T and just…just enjoy the ride.”

Just enjoying the ride is something you’d worked really hard on in therapy the last few years, some days easier than others - the pile of ratty Moleskine journals hidden away in your closet full of your every thought from the past five years, good and bad. The newest one, coincidentally started on the day you’d gotten a positive pregnancy test, is already a quarter full of your up and down thoughts and scribbles.

“That’s my girl,” Mat’s hands cup your cheeks, tilting your face up so he can kiss you, even as you protest, reminding him of your vomit breath. He laughs as he kisses you anyway, mumbling, “minty,” against your mouth.

You shake your head at him, smiling. He squeezes your cheek and guides you back into the bedroom, flipping the light switch off. You settle on the bed, dragging a pillow into your lap and watch Mat start to get dressed even though it’s so early.

“I’ve got practice at 9:30,” he says, voice muffled as he pulls his undershirt over his head. You unashamedly watch his stomach muscles work, ogling his chest even though your libido is temporarily dead and buried. “We can wake T up and tell her before I go or we can do it when I get back.”

“When are you getting back?” You wrap a blanket around your shoulders, smothering a yawn in the fabric. A wave of exhaustion hits and you blink slowly. It’s too early for you to be awake on a normal day, but the extra pregnancy hormones have you both exhausted and unable to sleep. There’s no chance you’ll go back to bed, not when you have to finish getting the house ready for your Christmas guests.

Mat shrugs. “Depends. But probably around eleven, eleven thirty?”

He rummages through his drawers for a pair of sweats and you remind him that he has to go and pick up both sets of parents and Liana from the airport in the afternoon. “So maybe we should tell her now?” You chew at your thumbnail.

Fully dressed in casual athleisure for his drive to the practice rink, Mat nods and reaches over to pull your thumb away from your mouth. You scowl at him.

“I’ll go wake her up,” he laughs. “Even though she definitely could use some more sleep.”

You wave him off. “She’ll nap when you’re gone,” you reply. “Unless, of course, she wants to help me get the house ready.”

Mat raises an eyebrow at you, laughs, and heads down to Talia’s room. You grin at his retreating back and get up to rinse your mouth with Listerine again and give your teeth a good brush. You always feel gross after vomiting. Once you feel fresher and more awake, you change out of your sweaty pajamas and into a Christmas-appropriate dark green waffle knit lounge set. You feel much more human with real clothes on and you pat your stomach, a faint outward curve already forming between your hipbones.

This pregnancy is showing quicker than all the others, physical proof that you’re holding onto for your sanity.

“Mommy,” Talia’s whine precedes her and you smile automatically when you see Mat come back into your room with Talia curled up in his arms. Her face is buried in his neck and her dark curls are wild with bedhead. One leg of her cartoon Grinch patterned pajama bottoms is pushed halfway up her skinny calf and her arms are locked around Mat’s neck, her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, bunching it between his shoulders.

“Hi, baby,” you reply quietly, reaching out your arms for her. Mat transfers her to your lap and she curls up like a little cat, her cheek squished against your breast. “Daddy woke you up, huh?”

You smooth back her hair, the soft scent of her watermelon L’Oreal Kids shampoo wafting up to your nose. The French braid you’d tied her hair into last night is a wreck and you know she’ll complain when you have to brush out the knots later. But right now she’s so soft and sweet with sleep, seeming much younger than her five and a half years. You trace the tip of your finger over the slope of her nose and she wrinkles it at your touch, face relaxing again almost instantly.

“He said I had a s’prise,” she mumbles, blinking up at you. “But Christmas isn’t today.”

“Nope,” you agree and the mattress dips when Mat sits down next to you. “Christmas is in three days, but Daddy and I do have a gift for you early.”

That perks her right up, predictably. Talia blinks like a little meerkat, scrambling to sit up on your lap. She looks over at Mat, who’s grinning widely, and then back up at you.

“A gift before Christmas?” She asks, her ‘s’ whistling a little from the space left behind from the front baby tooth she’d lost a few days ago. “How come?”

Mat pulls the box out from under the bed and places it on Talia’s lap. “Because it’s a special gift and we wanted to give it to you early, since you’ve been such an awesome kid all year,” Mat says and you can hear the slight tremble in his voice. It reminds you that all of your fertility issues and miscarriages weren’t just hard on you, they were hard on Mat and he was a rock throughout everything, no matter what you threw at him emotionally. You reach out and squeeze his knee, giving him a small smile. He returns it with a wink.

Talia pokes her fingers into the corner of the wrapping paper, her sparkly nail polish catching in the light, and gives Mat an impish little smile. “Daddy wrapped this,” she says. “The corners are all wrinkly.”

You laugh at the roast and Mat’s jaw drops in fake outrage.

“They are not!” He yelps, reaching out to tickle Talia’s sides. She shrieks and wiggles, laughter echoing around the room.

“No! No, Daddy! Stop tickling!” She shrieks between gasping laughter and Mat relents, laughing too as he leans back into his spot. Talia’s hair is even messier, her cheeks flushed from laughter, and you can’t wait to have another one running around the house. A lump of emotion clogs your throat.

“I don’t like tickling,” she grumbles adorably and Mat apologies. Talia forgives him and pulls at the paper on her gift again. “Can I open now?”

You and Mat both nod and Talia wastes no time in ripping into the paper. Scraps go flying and Mat gathers them up, crumpling the paper in a ball that he tosses back and forth between his hands. Talia stops briefly when she sees the gift box and then tosses the lid off the side of the bed. You roll your eyes slightly at her dramatics, but then she’s pulling the sweater out of its tissue paper and laying it over your legs.

“What’s it say?” She cocks her head. Immediately, she recognizes the first word, “big,” and then starts sounding out the next, “si-sis-sister?”

You’re holding your breath while she sounds it out, your heart pounding when she wrinkles her nose and repeats, “big sister?”

Talia looks at you and then Mat, frowning while the wheels turn in her head. It takes a second and she repeats, “big sister? Me?” pointing at herself. Her eyebrows lift on her forehead.

Mat nods and you grin at her, “you’re going to be a big sister, love bug.”

It’s a surprise when Talia bursts into loud, hiccuping sobs and you’re caught unprepared. Tears stream down her face and she chokes for air, holding the sweater in a death grip, turning her knuckles white. Mat looks at you, wide-eyed and terrified of Talia’s reaction, until she wails, “I always wanted a baby!”

“Oh,” you cuddle her close, stroking her hair and letting her cry and snot all over your shirt. “Oh, my baby, I know. You’re overwhelmed. It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay.”

“I get a baby?” She asks and you nod even though she can’t see you. Tears well up in your eyes.

Mat’s hand rubs circles on her back and he’s whispering quietly to her, inaudible over the blood rushing in your ears.

“You’re going to have a sibling, love bug,” you say into her hair, choking on your own overwhelming emotion. “It’s really big news, right?”

Talia nods against you and you hear her blow her nose against your shirt. It’s gross, but you don’t mind.

She keeps wailing, crying happy tears and mumbling about how she always wanted a baby sibling like all of her friends. It cracks your heart and mends it all at once, knowing how long she’s waited and how happy she is to be finally getting a built-in best friend.

Tears drip down your cheeks and you feel Mat’s hand on your back, pulling you close. You and Talia are folded into Mat’s embrace, his palms cupping each of your heads to keep you close. Her cries settle down to a few sniffles and eventually she pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

Her big hazel eyes, Mat’s eyes, are red rimmed and still watery. You push damp strands of hair off her cheeks and kiss her forehead.

“I’m so happy, Mommy,” she says simply, lunging to throw her arms around your neck and squeeze you in a hug.

“I’m so happy too, TB,” you reply, the easiest and most honest words you’ve ever said.

Mat, never one to be left out, laughs and chimes in, “I bet you’re not as happy as me.” He kisses the top of Talia’s head, ruffling her hair. You can see a suspiciously wet shine to his eyes.

Talia leans from your lap to Mat’s, hugging his neck to tight it almost looks painful. “Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head. “I’m the happiest. I’m the happiest cause it’s my baby.”

“Hey,” you tickle her sides lightly, “it’s mine and Daddy’s baby too.”

She shrugs and grabs for her sweater again, yanking it on over her head. She pushes her hair out of her eyes with the backs of her hands, looking for all the world like an electrocuted mad scientist. “I’m gonna wear this forever and tell everyone I’m a big sister like Reese and Winnie,” she announces proudly, a huge missing-toothed smile splitting her face.

Her smile melts your heart and she starts rolling around on the bed, chanting “big sister, big sister,” to make you and Mat laugh.

You lean against Mat’s chest, his hands coming to rest on your stomach. He whispers in your ear, “I’m so glad we told her.”

“Me too,” you murmur back. Talia rolls back over to you and smooshes her face up against your stomach and Mat’s hands.

“My baby’s in there?” She asks and without waiting for an answer, kisses your stomach and says, “hi baby, I’m Talia. I’m your big sister and I love you.”

And that’s all it takes for your waterworks to start, tears flowing free and fast, to the point where Talia looks a little spooked and Mat has to shepard her downstairs for breakfast while you follow along a few minutes later, still sniffling and wiping at your eyes.

Mat serves you up a plate of pancakes, plain and no syrup to be easier on your stomach, and you kiss his cheek in return. He looks incredulous, “I make celebration pancakes and I only get a kiss on the cheek? Wow, Squeaks, wow.”

You roll your eyes at him and plant a dramatic, loud kiss on his lips, making Talia giggle over her own pancakes. There’s already a smudge of chocolate on her Big Sister sweater’s collar and you can’t help but smile.

Mat’s off to practice a little bit later and then it’s just you and Talia since school is already closed for the two-week break. She’s surprisingly clingy while you get the guest rooms ready for everyone, following at your heels with a handful of Calico Critters clutched in each palm.

She asks a million questions about the baby - when is it coming? Is it a boy or a girl? Is it gonna live in her room? Can we name it Sparky? (Late June, it’s going to be a surprise just like she was, it will live first in yours and Mat’s room and then will get its own room, and no. Definitely not.)

You flip through the pile of Christmas cards that have gone unopened for a few days, enjoying looking through the family pictures sent by all the wives and girlfriends you’ve made friends with throughout the years. A particularly cute family photo of Matthew Tkachuk, his wife, and their son makes you smile. Talia climbs up on a stool to look at the cards with you, pointing out each player that she knows and recognizes.

(“Mommy, did we send a card of me?” “Yes, baby, remember when you took a picture with us and Santa at Daddy’s work? We sent that one out.” “Oh, we should’ve sent the picture of me and Minnie at Disney ‘cause I looked real cute in that, Nana said so.”)

At some point, Talia dumps the Calico Critters back in their designated box and picks up her Bitty Baby, carrying it around and hugging it tightly. The sight makes you wobbly, praying silently that this is the baby that stays.

Mat comes home from practice, wet hair shoved under his Stadium Series beanie, and barely drops his keys before he’s swooping Talia up into his arms and blowing raspberries on her cheeks. He’s got a giddy energy that isn’t just from a good practice.

“Big sister, ready to head to the airport in a little bit?” He asks, gamely accepting the minor blow to the head from a plastic Bitty Baby leg.

“Yes!” Talia shouts. “Let’s go now!”

You chime in, “you’d be so early! There’s still about two hours until the planes land. That’s four episodes of Bluey,” you add, anticipating Talia’s next question.

She frowns, but shrugs and tells Mat, “Mommy said we can’t name my baby Sparky. I like Sparky.”

Mat grins at you and winks. To Talia, he says, “how about we work on it? There’s a long time to come up with a good name.”

You know Talia’s likely not going to give up on Sparky, but over the next hour she offers up Princess Jasmine, Tweety Bird, and Bingo as alternatives. Every time she refers to it as “my baby” though, you feel like you could cry again. Mat was right, telling her was a really good idea.

Until it comes time for them to leave for the airport and you have to tell her, gently but firmly, not to spill the beans. You zip up her jacket, hiding the words on the sweater she still refuses to take off. She’d even refused the option to put another sweater over it. This kid.

“But I wanna tell ‘em,” she whines, batting at the hat you try to pull over her head.

“We will tell everyone,” you assure her, winning the battle. The knit cap is snug over her ears, flattening her dark hair against her forehead. She looks adorably grumpy, a miniature replica of Mat. “But Mommy and Daddy want to surprise them with a Christmas present, okay? It’s our secret. Can you promise?”

Talia hums and bounces from foot to foot, considering. You cross your fingers that she gets it.

“I guess,” she relents, grabbing up a Princess Jasmine doll in one hand and an Aladdin doll in the other. Bitty Baby has been relegated to her crib for a nap that’s lasted more than an hour and you’re nearly jealous of a baby doll.

Mat appears in the front hall with his car keys jangling and a grin on his face. “Ready to go, TB?”

She bounces around, nodding and chanting “yes yes yes” in response to Mat’s question.

You giggle and pat her on the butt. “Save that energy for the game tomorrow,” you tease, getting to your feet and holding the door open. It’s starting to flurry a bit, the light flakes swirling in the air prettily. Mat kisses you quickly on his way out, nudging Talia between the shoulder blades to get her moving.

“Bye, Mommy!” She shouts, waving over her shoulder. “Bye, Baby Sparky!”

You wave at them, closing the door just after watching Mat swing Talia around before opening the car door for her to climb inside.

By some Christmas miracle, all three incoming flights - your parents from North Carolina, Mat’s parents from Vancouver, and Liana from London - were scheduled to land within ten minutes of each other, so Mat only had to make one trip to LaGuardia.

He glides the Defender easily into an open spot at the Arrivals curb, praying that the trip from baggage claim to the car doesn’t take everyone that long.

“Remember,” he turns around in his seat, lowering the volume on the Disney Princess medley soundtrack Talia had insisted on, “Baby Sparky is a secret. So don’t tell everyone okay?”

“Okay, but what if I just told LeeLee?” She says, not looking at Mat, but playing with her dolls. “And then you and Mommy can tell everyone else.”

“No,” Mat laughs, despite himself. “You can’t tell LeeLee. Don’t say anything, okay, Tals?”

Talia shrugs and agrees. “Okay, I won’t say anythin’ about Baby Sparky.”

Mat reaches his hand out for a high five and Talia slaps his palm enthusiastically. She makes Mat turn the music back up while they wait and sings happily along to ‘Part of Your World’ until Mat’s phone vibrates with a text and he grins.

“Take a look out the window, T,” he says, pointing towards the airport. “We’ve got some visitors.”

Talia shrieks happily, kicking her legs and waving wildly at her grandparents and aunt as the five of them come into sight. Liana waves wildly back, making a silly face for good measure.

Mat gets out of the car to help with the luggage, accepting a hug and kiss from both moms. Liana punches his arm and then gives him a one-armed hug before helping him with the luggage at the trunk. They both wave off the parents for their help and gesture for them to get in the car.

“Hi Nana and hi Pop and hi Grandma and hi Grandpa,” Talia chirps excitedly as they all get in the car, in one breath in the way only little kids can manage. She tilts her cheek up to get kisses from her grandmothers as they climb into the third row of the car.

“Hi Talia,” Nadia grins, tweaking her cheek.

“Hi, sweetie,” your mom replies, cupping Talia’s chin between her thumb and index finger. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Hey, TB,” Liana calls from the back of the car, hoisting her suitcase into the trunk. “No hellos for your favorite aunt?”

Talia wiggles around in her booster seat to wave at Liana. “LeeLee! Did you know I’m gonna be a big sister?” She shouts the question and Mat freezes.

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly, remaining extremely still as all five family members turn to look at him. He gives his mother an awkward grin. All three women are aware of the issues you’ve had in the past, he knows. Liana especially since you’d confided everything in her during her visits and on multiple phone calls. When you couldn’t or wouldn’t talk to Mat, he was just grateful that you had Liana at least to confide in.

“Mat?” Nadia prods him for a response.

“Yeah!” Talia continues, oblivious. “Mommy said we can’t name the baby Sparky, but I wanna call it Sparky anyway.”

“Oh my god!” Liana yelps, reaching out to shake Mat’s arm. “Seriously?” She does a little dance in place.

Mat nods, laughing a little. “Yeah, seriously. We told T this morning, but,” he shoots the kindergartener a playful glare, “she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet.”

Talia’s still oblivious, chattering happily to her grandfathers, both of whom have huge grins on their faces. The moms are wiping away tears in the third row, reaching over into the trunk to hug Mat awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you guys,” your mom sobs, overwhelmed.

Mat accepts the huge hug Liana forces on him and finishes getting the bags in the trunk, the honking already starting from other cars waiting at the curb.

Once everyone’s in the car, Liana wedged in the middle seat and already starting to entertain Talia, Mat lowers the music and whistles to get attention on him.

“Look, T wasn’t supposed to tell you guys about the baby,” he says, easing out into traffic. “We wanted to do something special on Christmas, so if you could all pretend that you know nothing, that would be very helpful.”

Your mom sighs from the third row. “It’s going to be so hard to pretend,” she tells Nadia, who agrees. They’d both been discussing a baby shower, which Mat definitely thinks is a little premature, but he can’t blame them for being excited. He’s beyond happy himself.

“I get that,” he replies. “I really do. But remember, I’ve got a fragile, hormonal pregnant wife and she really wanted to surprise you all. Please play along and ignore Talia.”

“Hey!” Talia pipes up, abandoning her doll to Liana’s lap. “It’s mean to ignore, Daddy!”

Mat catches her eye in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, TB. But you did promise Mommy not to mention the baby and here we are.”

Talia squints at him, scrunching her face up and making Liana laugh at the expression. She pouts and kicks at the back of Mat’s seat. “I was excited, Daddy! I was so excited I cried, ‘member?” She grumbles.

Liana tugs at one of her dark curls. “Yeah, she couldn’t help herself, Mat,” she teases. “We’ll all be on our best behavior, promise.”

There’s no doubt in Mat’s mind that the five adults in the car will absolutely ruin the surprise the second they get home, but he crosses his fingers and hopes anyway.

Traffic is light, surprisingly, and you’re waiting at the door when Mat pulls into the driveway less than two hours after he left. You wave as everyone piles out of the car, catching Talia in your arms when she runs up to you.

“Mommy! LeeLee said she brought me sou-soubeniers?” She yelps.

“Souvenirs,” you correct gently, helping her out of her jacket and frowning when you see the sweater you’d forgotten she was wearing. “Go wash your hands, baby.”

Talia scampers off and you hope that buys you a little time to get her changed before everyone sees.

Your parents and in-laws parade into the house, all four of them giving you extra tight hugs and kisses on the cheek. Your dad murmurs that it’s good to see you and Mike gives you a wide smile, hugging you for a moment longer than usual.

Nadia cups your cheeks in her hands and just looks at you for a few seconds before shaking her head and pulling you back in for a second hug. Strange.

Something prickles at the back of your neck and when your mom greets you with watery eyes, you know exactly what happened.

Liana shoots you a delighted smirk, wrapping one arm around you in a hug as she passes. “Merry Christmas,” she beams, kissing your cheek.

Mat is last, dragging suitcases behind him and wearing a sheepish expression. You hold the door open for him and deadpan, “blabbermouth junior told everyone, didn’t she?”

“Literally the second they got in the car,” Mat admits. To his credit, he doesn’t try and lie.

“I should’ve known,” you laugh, following him into the house. Your mom already has Talia on her hip, Big Sister sweater proudly front and center as she demonstrates to the grandparents that she can read the words. They all look up guiltily at you and you just laugh more. “Spoilsport ruined the news,” you say, flattening your hand on your stomach, “but Baby Barzal should be here in June. God willing.”

The sudden cheer overwhelms you and gets you teary eyed again before you’re enveloped in a hug that nearly smothers you. Mat’s grinning at you from the safety of the fridge, until he gets accosted by the moms. He pats them on the back, laughing.

After the excitement of the news, you fall into your usual visit routine - changing out of airplane clothes and placing an order from the Italian place that everyone loves before settling into the den to catch up.

“I was going to give you guys these on Christmas,” you start the sentence before you disappear upstairs and return with three boxes in your arms. “But might as well do it now.”

Talia whips her head around, abandoning the bag of pretzels she’d dug out of the pantry and is sharing with your dad and Mike. “More presents? For me?” She asks, clambering over the arm of the couch to fall into Nadia’s lap and poke at the wrapped gift. “Oh, Mommy wrapped this. It’s so pretty. It event has a ribbon,” she chirps, stroking the velvet bow loops.

“Ooh,” Liana laughs at Mat, “burned by your own kid.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Mat rolls his eyes at his sister and when he’s sure Talia’s distracted, flips her off.

“Behave,” Nadia chastises, tone firm even though she’s smiling. Talia’s already pulling the paper away from the box in her lap and Nadia lets her continue.

You curl up against Mat’s side and watch everyone open their gifts - Polaroid shaped Christmas ornaments with the baby’s sonogram in the little photo spot, Coming Soon scrawled in cursive over the bottom of it.

It would’ve been nice to surprise everyone on Christmas morning, but there’s something even nicer about doing it now. With everyone relaxed and excited and able to really enjoy the moment without the chaos of presents and breakfast and stockings.

“Wait?” Talia squints at the sonogram. She pokes her finger against the black and white image. “Is that my baby?”

“Mhm,” you hum watching your mom explain exactly which blurry blob is the baby. “That’s the first ever picture of the baby.”

“Do I have a picture like that?” She asks, appropriating Nadia and Mike’s ornament for herself and lying across their laps while she studies the image.

Mat nods. “Tons of them,” he replies. “We can show you later, if you want.”

She hums distractedly and you let the grandparents take over for a bit, spoiling her and distracting her while you relax against Mat’s side, his hand snaking down to rest on your stomach under your shirt. His palm is warm and dry and his fingers draw absent shapes against your skin. He turns the fireplace on from his phone and the room gets cozier, full of noise and laughter and joy.

It’s the best start to Christmas week that you could’ve ever imagined.

And it turns out that everyone knowing about the baby early is a blessing in disguise, because your mom and Nadia don’t let you do a single thing the next day. They get breakfast ready for everyone and the dads get the sidewalks and cars clean from the few inches of snow that had fallen over night.

You try to help, but are shooed away to the couch to rest. Liana and Talia join you intermittently. Your baby curls up on your lap with her Bitty Baby, listening as Liana fills you in on her love life in code that goes over Talia’s head.

Mat’s gone most of the day for morning skate and is back for his pre-game nap before disappearing again around 3:30.

Talia insists on wearing her Big Sister sweater again, but the combined powers of Liana and your mom work to get her to put an Islanders jersey over it for the game. The adults are decked out in gear too and you go for comfort over style in an oversized henley and vest with leggings. Your nod to team spirit is your custom Islander Nikes.

Since the whole family is there and it’s the last game before the holiday break, Mat sprung for a suite and you’re grateful for it because you can relax and not have to worry about Talia slipping away.

Periodically, the other girls pop in to join you and as much as you try to keep her distracted, Talia announces your news to everyone that stops in, chirping, “I’m gonna be a big sister!” with a big, chocolate smudged grin and a few bunny hops.

You’ve never been excitedly screamed at and hugged in your entire life, a permanent grin making your face hurt by the time the second is halfway done.

Mat finishes the game with a trip to the penalty box, a goal, two assist, and the team wins. Maxine Nightingale fills the arena and Talia shimmies along to the chorus, cheering for Mat as he’s announced as the first star and skates over to chat with Shannon.

“Congrats on the win,” Shannon grins and Talia hangs over the glass, waving at Mat. You hold the back of her jersey in a tight fist, ignoring the way your stomach swoops with anxiety every time she lunges forward.

“Thanks, Shannon,” Mat’s face is larger than life on the screen and his smile is megawatt. “Feels really good to get the two points at home.”

Shannon laughs and nods, “I bet! And with these two points and the Ranger loss last night, the Islanders are heading into the holiday break at the top of the Metro. Just another thing to celebrate, right?”

“Oh yeah!” Mat’s lips curl up in a cock smirk that has your dormant sex drive sparking slightly. “A lot to celebrate this year,” he looks up at the suites and you swear he makes eye contact with you, his smile growing more genuine. “Just really glad to get the win with my family here.”

“I’m sure they’re all waiting to start the holiday celebrations with you, Merry Christmas, Mat,” Shannon smiles and the interview ends with Mat wishing her the same and heading off down the tunnel.

“Bye, Daddy!!!” Talia shouts out, waving.

You snatch her back from the glass and she pouts at you briefly before skipping over to Liana to mooch some M&M’s off of her.

“Are we heading home before Mat or did you want to see him?” You ask, sitting down on one of the couches outside the suite. A yawn catches in the back of your throat and your mom brushes her hand over the top of your head. You lean into her touch like a cat, warmed by her affection.

“Let us take you home, baby,” she replies. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m okay,” you assure her, passing Liana a baby wipe from your bag so she can wipe the chocolate off of Talia’s face. “T likes to see Mat after the games, so we can all meet him out at the garage and split into the two cars.”

“I wanna see Daddy and Uncle Bo and Noah,” Talia calls out, wriggling away from Liana and the baby wipe she’s wielding.

“Jesus, stay still TB, you’ve got a chocolate five o’clock shadow,” Liana laughs.

Mat is waiting for you downstairs, immediately scooping Talia up and giving her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “My good luck charms!” He grins, hair damp.

“Daddy, where’s Noah?” Talia drapes herself over Mat’s shoulder, looking around for her favorite defenseman. “I wanna show him my sweater.”

“You already showed Alexa,” you remind her. “She’ll

show Noah the picture you posed for. And remember, you’re going to see everyone at Aunt Syd and Uncle Matt’s Christmas Eve party tomorrow.”

Somehow you manage to get Talia in her car seat in Mat’s car, the rest of the Barzals going with Mat too and leaving you to drive home with your parents. Mat kisses your forehead before he gets into the driver’s seat of his car and tells you to be safe.

You nod and end up in the back seat of your own car when your dad insists on driving home. You’re grateful for it, honestly, slumping against the door and yawning. It’s been a long day and you’re definitely ready to head to bed.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” your mom murmurs over the Christmas music playing on the radio. She has her arm extended behind her so she can hold your hand. “Make sure you take care of yourself and if you need me to come and help, say the word. Whatever you need, right, hon?” That last bit is directed at your dad and he nods in agreement, a man of few words.

“Thanks, mom,” you can’t help the waver to your voice. Quieter, you continue, “I’m scared.”

“Oh, my girl,” your mom turns around in her seat and gives you a soft smile. “It’s only natural, after everything you and Mat have been through. But I’m going to go light a candle tomorrow and you’re going to stay positive and in June you’ll have a beautiful new baby to love on.”

You nod and wipe at your eyes, your free hand splayed on your stomach. In your purse, your phone vibrates and you pull it out to find a text from Liana - a video of Talia in her car seat, singing the wrong lyrics to ‘All I Want for Christmas’ loudly and proudly. She’s totally off key, but she’s having the time of her life. Before the video ends, you can hear Mat in the background laughing and saying, “T, next year you can teach Baby Sparky the lyrics.”

Tears flood your eyes again and the reality continues to hit - this time next year you’ll have a second baby all geared up to celebrate their first Christmas.

You can’t wait.

[clemswinecorner]

Neat [George Clarkey]

Summary: George and Y/N are dating, but no one is aware. It can make going out with their friends a bit... weird, a bit risky, but it works.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: sexual innuendos and alcohol, other than that it's fine

I'm in love with this man so here's a fic!

Main Masterlist

Gif from @g-xix

“We’re getting drinks, are you staying here?” Chris shouts over the loud Spanish music of whatever club they are in. Y/N looks around, seeing Arthur Television chatting with a couple of friends and Callum and Chip laughing with some guy they met when they went out some other time. “I’ll go with,” she gestures, and Chris nods as he follows George to the bar, occasionally checking if she’s still behind him. Although it was a Friday night, it was still relatively early, so the club wasn’t extremely busy yet. It was busy enough to have fun, but early enough to still be able to have a conversation with no interruptions, so they easily made their way over to the bar. As they arrive at the bar Chris starts speaking to the bartender, having heard everyone’s orders, and she softly puts her hand on George’s shoulder. He turns to her surprised, relaxing when he sees her. “Oh, I didn’t know you were walking with us!” She smiles, “Yeah, the rest was all in conversation anyway,” she explains, and he nods. Chris turns to the pair, “Do you want a pint?” He asks George, who contemplates his options before nodding. “Yeah. You as well?” He looks at the girl next to him, nodding. “Yes, but I also want to do tequila shots. Oh, and did you get a Guinness for Hill?” Chris looks at her surprised, “Wait, no, I didn’t, where is he anyway?” He asks before moving back to the bartender. “Could I get another 3 pints and a Guinness, please. Are we doing the shots now?” Chris turns to George and Y/N, who quickly make eye contact, before nodding. “Yeah, I’m down,” George answers, and Chris turns back to the bartender. “And three tequila shots, please, we’ll do those first and then take those other drinks back if that’s alright,” You look at George as you wait for the bartender. “Arthur went to the bathroom. You enjoying your night so far?” She asks, leaning closer. He nods, looking down at her, their faces a little too close for it to simply be friendly. Y/N glances towards Chris, tapping his phone on the card reader with the shots and limes already in front of him. “Yeah. What are you doing tonight, going to Becky’s?” She shakes her head, “No, she has to leave early tomorrow so she wouldn’t stay out too long. I’m not sure, why do you ask?” He shrugs, with a hint of a smile on his face. “Just thinking,” he says, moving away from her as Chris turns around. She sends him a knowing smirk as Chris hands out the shots. “Salt, babe, we need salt,” she tells him, and George is already leaning over the bar to grab one of the salt shakers. Y/N and Chris lick their palms and George twists some salt on them, “Okay, you do it for me,” he says, looking at the girl next to him. “What, d’you want her to lick you?” Chris chuckles, making a blush appear on the younger’s face, not realising the implications. “No, I meant like, the salt, not, what?!” He stutters, and Chris laughs even harder as she smiles, taking the salt from him. “Hurry up then, I want to take these shots!”

It’s busier by the time they’ve had a few rounds of drinks and shots. George was still relatively sober looking, having a fairly high tolerance, and Y/N wanted to be semi-responsible, going a bit easy. Unlike some of their other friends, who were already dancing— most of them dragged away by a drunk Chris, telling them how boring they were sitting around. Because their friends were all on the dance floor —or god knows where else in the club— George and Y/N didn’t really try to hide their affection. They were sitting together, her leg on his lap, one of his hands on her thigh and a drink in the other. “Are you staying at mine tonight?” He asks, and she nods. “Yeah, if the other boys don’t mind. Can’t really do anything then, though,” she says, and he shrugs. “It’d be weirder if I went to yours, I think, and with your roommates and stuff. Either way, I was thinking, maybe we could go out tomorrow? Grab a coffee, maybe have a cute little date?” He asks, just loud enough for her to hear. She chuckles, “You can’t get enough of me, can you? My roommates will be out tomorrow night, if you want to come over. We could make that taco thing you send me?” She suggests, and now he’s the one teasing her. “What were you saying about can’t get enough?” She rolls her eyes as he squeezes her waist. “Whatever, then I’ll make it by myself,” she says, and now he’s the one rolling his eyes. “I do have to hit the gym tomorrow, but you can leave whilst I’m gone, and we’ll meet for coffee after. Then do groceries and go back to yours?” She nods at his suggestion, “Yeah, sounds good. I have some work I planned to do tomorrow so that works perfect for me as well.” He frowns when she suddenly moves her legs away from his, turning towards him in a more casual way as she looks towards the dance floor. He follows her line of eyesight, explaining her change in behaviour, and looks back at her. “Are we letting Chris drag us away?” He asks as the mentioned man makes his way over. She smiles at their friend's clearly drunken state, “Yeah, someone has to look out for him. I could use some fun as well,” she says, and he fakes offence. “Is sitting in the corner of the club with me not fun enough for you?” She laughs, “Of course it is,” she leans closer to his face, as they both laugh, ready to kiss, before Chris’ voice brings them back to reality. They share a quick look, realising they almost got caught, and look over at their friend, that bumped into one of the tables and was cursing it out. They both have to hold in their laughs, as he makes his way over. “It’s funny, it almost looked like you were kissing from there, imagine how crazy that would be,” The two share a look once again, both aware Chris will have forgotten this by the morning. “Yeah, imagine. Hey, do you wanna dance again, or did you come here just because?” She asks, brushing off his comment. George chuckles as Chris enthusiastically nods, “yeah, c’mon!” He says, already turning around. George follows, holding his hand for her to grab, in order to not lose each other. No other reason, of course. She takes it with a smile, as Chris leads them through the crowd. Right when they reach their other friends, the first notes to Maneater are heard, and George turns around, already expecting the big smile on Y/N’s face. “Oh my god, this is a banger!” 

The way home went by fast, if you asked Chris and Arthur. They split off relatively quickly with their other friends, some staying at the club and some sharing an Uber home. Chris, Arthur, George and Y/N decided to simply walk back since it was, in theory, only twenty minutes, and it was nice to be in the fresh air for a bit. Chris and Arthur, both still in a drunken state, were giggling joking around, as George and Y/N walked behind them. “I feel like we’re very much being the parents, right now,” Y/N jokes, already on their way for twenty minutes and still being at least ten minutes away, and George chuckles as they walk with their arms interlocked. They knew their friends wouldn’t think much of it, both of them always being affectionate with their friends even sober, and the pair were also too drunk to realise it could mean something. “Don’t act like it hasn’t been the other way around, do I have to remind you of the XIX party two weeks ago?” She gasps at the memory, where she was in a very similar state as Chris was right this moment, and he was making endless fun of her. “Okay, well. You didn’t have to say that. Next time, I won’t come back to your place then,” she says, reminding him of what happened the morning after. “Hey, I wasn’t complaining!” She chuckles, as she looks at the boys in front of them crossing the road.

They walk in silence for a while, before Y/N speaks up. “Do you think they have any idea this is happening?” She wonders, looking at him. He looks at his roommates and back at her, confused by her question, “About what?” She looks at the boys. “Us. That we’re like, dating,” He turns to her as they stop at the traffic light, waiting for the cars to drive by. “I don’t know. Do you want them to?” He studies her face, trying to find an answer somewhere. She shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s more like… I don’t know, Chris comment made me think. They’re your roommates, I know we’re being a bit careful, but they know the both of us so well. But also, if they knew, would they have said something?” George takes in a deep breath. He looks at the boys walking a couple of meters in front of them, not having realised the other two had to stop at the crossing. “Sometimes I think Arthur might know, from my side at least. He hasn’t said it, but I think he just thinks I haven’t realised, but I obviously have,” she looks up at him curiously. “Realised what?” He turns to her with a soft look in his eyes. “How in love with you I am,” he simply says. Her eyes widen a bit— this was unfamiliar territory for them. He realises too, as he looks away from her again. “Shit, sorry, that, okay, that was quite-,”  She immediately interrupts, as she stops them from walking any further. “I’m in love with you too. Like, actually,” He looks at her, a genuine smile on both their faces. “Okay. Okay, good,” he simply says, as they get closer to each other. She giggles, “yeah?”, she asks, and he nods, “yeah, very good.” They both smile as they kiss each other, lost in their own worlds, before they hear their names being called. “Oh my god, I forgot about them,” George says annoyed, but still with a smile. She laughs, “Yeah, okay, maybe this wasn’t the best place and time for this, but it’s fine. We should definitely get to them before they take the wrong turn,” he laughs and nods, giving her one last quick kiss.

George grabs her hand, but quickly lets it go again as they go around the corner, where their friends are waiting. “Finally!” Arthur exclaims as Chris is leaning against him. “Jesus, what were you doing, shagging each other? Should’ve done that in the bathroom,” Chris jokes, and they awkwardly laugh. Their friends were too drunk to remember the specific comment in the morning, but Y/N doesn’t miss the way Arthur inspects George's face. “Traffic light. Alright, c’mon boys, I want to sleep,” Y/N answers, getting the group to walk on again. “I think you’re right about Arthur,” she softly tells George, who looks down at her with a questioning face. “That he knows you like me. Doesn’t have a clue we’re actually together though, I think,” she explains, and he nods, sighing softly before turning towards her again. “Do you want them to know?” He asks, and she’s somewhat surprised by the question. “I don’t know. I mean, I wouldn’t mind them knowing, like, I don’t care, but… I think it’s neat, us being like this — without anyone interfering with our relationship. I love them, but I also love this little thing we have going on, you know,” she explains, and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, me too,” she inspects his face, trying to find a sign of dishonesty. “You know, if you’re sick of having this relationship being a secret I don’t mind telling them, if that’s what you want,” he looks over at her with a smile. “No, it’s not that. It would make things easier, but once they know we can’t go back, you know?” She nods, looking at their friends, oblivious to the conversation the couple behind them is having. “I think we should just… Let them figure it out. Hide it, but you know, care a little less? If they find out, they find out,” She suggests. He nods, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. “Yeah, that sounds great. When they ask why I’m so happy tomorrow I’ll say it’s because I had some godly pussy,” she rolls her eyes and pushes him away chuckling. “You’re horrible,” she exclaims, and he just laughs, “You love me!” He says as they approach the boys' flat. She shakes her head, “Unfortunately, I do.”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 6

part 1 | part 5

October

It's Wednesday night, which means dinner at the Hendersons. Steve finally decided to show his face — and no, not because Dustin's doorstep song and dance had any effect on him; it was partly because he was sick of hearing muted metal music from across the street and mostly because he hadn't left the trailer in three days and he was starting to feel and smell like shit.

So, anyway. Dinner. Ma Henderson's pulled out all the stops: prepped a homemade lasagna, stocked the fridge with full-sugar sodas and bought the good brand of key lime pie; invited the Sinclair and Wheeler kids to make a little party of it. (Nancy was 'unfortunately too busy to attend,' thank fucking god.)

But then Ma got stuck late at work, so now it's all hands on deck. Mike and Erica are setting the table — Steve can hear Mike bitching at her because she told him the knives go the other way, dumbass; Lucas is at the fridge filling cups with ice and Pepsi and muttering to himself about how much better Coke is; Steve's got an eye on the oven, waiting for the cheese on the lasagna to bubble up juuust right; and Dustin is using "prepping the salad" as an excuse to corner Steve and annoy the ever-loving crap out of him.

“What do you mean it’s hard?” Dustin whines, dropping a handful of shredded carrots into the wooden bowl. “Just talk to him!”

Steve takes a deep breath. Mourns, briefly, for the night he could have had; the girls he could be doing hand stuff with in the back of the Beemer instead of putting up with this kid's shit. “I don’t wanna Just Talk to Him." He bends to peek through the oven door. "And, also: get off my ass about it, alright? I came to dinner, I'm heating up the lasagna. I'm, like, participating or whatever. What more do you want?”

“For you to talk to Eddie! Obviously!" Dustin's tossing the greens so aggressively that it kinda feels like he wishes he was pummeling Steve instead, and when he throws his hands up, little flecks of iceberg lettuce go raining to the floor.

Steve eyes the leafy green confetti. "You're cleaning that up."

"Come on, dude," Dustin begs. "It's been two weeks! What's the point of having friends who are next door neighbors if they refuse to get along?”

Behind them, Lucas supplies in a weirdly strangled tone: “This really doesn’t seem like the way to get him to talk to Eddie."

Thank you. Steve couldn't agree more. He turns to tell him as much and realizes the reason Lucas' voice sounded like that is because he's trying to make one trip to the dining room at any fucking cost. He's got an armful of drinking glasses and three cans of Pepsi tucked under his chin, and he's about to fumble the whole wobbly stack.

"Jesus Christ, man, cut that out!" Steve swoops in to grab the cans before they can join the lettuce shower Dustin just made. He doesn't care how much he loves Claudia, he will leave without helping if they splatter soda all over this floor. Mews the Second can lick it clean for all he cares, he's so for real. "Two at a time," he says sternly, taking the extra cups from Lucas’ hold and handing him back a reasonable amoint. He sends Lucas out of the room with a knee to the ass.

"Hey!" Lucas pouts.

"Hey yourself," he grins.

Lucas sticks out his tongue like a child (because he is one, Steve reminds himself), and when he shoulders the swinging door to the dining room he almost brains his little sister, who makes a graceful side-step and comes strutting through undeterred.

"Are you two nerds done playing good cop, annoying cop with Steve?"

"Ah-!" Dustin gawps. "I better not be the annoying cop!"

"Uh, yeah. Obviously, you are." She props a fist on her hip, a little tyrant in the making, and Steve’s ribs go tender with a fond, vaguely proud ache. He really loves her so much. "Now scram. I need to borrow Steve."

On second thought.

Surely at some point these kids, like, owe him money or some shit for the amount of weary sighs they've caused him to let out. Like, financial compensation for the years taken off his life? Something?

"Yes, Erica?" he asks, nostrils flared; eyes closed.

"You should talk to Eddie."

"Oh, Jesus fucking Christ." Steve looks up to the ceiling, pleading for anyone to grant him strength, then he turns to pull the lasagna out of the oven and watches the bubbles sizzle and pop in the hot cheese until he no longer feels like blowing up at a little girl. "Okay. Okay. And I should listen to you because…?"

Screw financial compensation.

He deserves a presidential medal for how calm he's keeping his tone.

Erica's glaring fiercely at him when he glances her way, and why is every kid he knows such a brave, confrontational little shit? "Because," she explains, "He's being mean to my brother."

Oh, fuck no. "What do you mean?" he asks, voice dropping to an urgent hiss as he feels his hackles raise. Like hell is he letting some Billy 2.0 hang around his kids. "Is he, like- Is he saying shit about you guys?"

She spares him from trying to find a tactful way to ask what he's really asking. "No," she says shortly. "But he is being a bastard about him joining the basketball team—"

"Language—" Oh, what's the point.

"—and those two nerds out there? Are obsessed with him. Especially Mike. Like, ob-sessed.” She writes the letters out in the air in front of her to really drive home the point. “Mike likes whatever Eddie likes, so you need to convince Eddie to like Lucas before Lucas loses his friends over this stupid 'jocks versus freaks' crap." She lowers her voice and jabs the skywriting finger into his shoulder hard enough to bruise. "And if you tell Lucas I said any of this? It is on. sight, Steve. I will crush you."

"Jesus Christ."

"So, we good?"

"Uh huh," Steve stammers. "Y-yep. Understood."

Wow. So dignified, Steve. Really loved how you let a ten year old intimidate you. He's saved from any further bullying by the sound of keys jangling in the lock.

"Dusty!" Claudia calls out through the door, "Dustybunny, can you come help? My hands are full!"

In the dining room Steve hears Dustin groan while Mike and Lucas start immediately tearing into him for the name, mocking 'Dustybunny; oh, Dustybun!' in stupid sing-song tones.

"So I'm just gonna..." Steve says awkwardly, inching toward the door. "Go get that."

"Mhmm." Erica gives him an unimpressed look. "You do that."

—

"Oh, Steve, sweetie, thank you!" Claudia says when he opens the door, cheerful and sweet as always. He goes to take her bags from her, but she drops them all at her feet and steps forward to give him a hug, a firm and tender thing that makes an annoying lump form in his throat.

"How are you?" she asks, stepping back to look at him; eyes raking over his face, hands on his cheeks. Really looks. She frowns at whatever she sees. "How's your mom?"

"Can you please just talk to me?" Steve begs, shivering in the hallway because they haven't budgeted for turning on the heat just yet. Wasn't supposed to get this cold for another pay cycle. He tugs the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves. His limbs feel stiff and tense, a budding anxiety like there’s a bomb in the base of his spine.

"Steven, darling, not now," his mother sighs as she sinks demurely onto the couch. "Then when!" he explodes. He doesn't want to yell at her, but, "Seriously, when? When are we going to say anything to each other that actually fucking matters, mom? I feel like I barely even know you anymore!"

"Yes, and I feel a migraine coming on; are you quite finished?"

"….She's fine," Steve answers.

Could be true, for all he knows.

The wrinkles between Claudia's brows deepen, like she wants to press the subject but decides to hold her tongue. "That's good to hear," she settles on after a moment, giving him a gentle pat on the cheek before stepping away with a subtle look that’s not mad, just disappointed.

Steve kind of wants to cry.

"Mom! Food!" Dustin hollers from the other room.

Steve rolls his eyes. "I swear I try to teach him manners."

"Well, good luck with that," she grins, the shadow of tension between them dissipating. Her mood is good like that. Resilient. Strong. Immune to outside force.

Steve’s moods, on the other hand, are more like those stainless steel fridges that promise to remain spotless but then end up covered in grubby handprints. (Exhibit A: he’s doing it right now.)

Thankfully Claudia’s got enough sunshine in her for the both of them. “Come on,” she says, extending a hand and wiggling her fingers for him to grab hold. “Let's eat."

—

part 7

[vivwritesfics]

Okay oak

So soulmate x driver

So it is lime two people being fated to always just miss or die? Kibda just before they meet each other

You can make it happy or not

Thinking max, carlos or charles/logan

🫶🫶

Lobe xoz

Please never stop being you 💓

I took this in a veeeeeeeery different direction sort of but also not

Warnings: Death, reader dies, max dies (a couple of times, actually), racing related death, murder and stabbing, shooting, sad but not really

Past lives. Some people believed in them, some people believed that this wasn't their first go around.

Max Verstappen knew it wasn't. Well, he didn't know it right away. In fact, the concept of a past life was something he wasn't familiar with growing up. That wasn't the sort of nonsense his father would entertain.

But then Max laid eyes on her.

He knew her. They hadn't met before, but he knew her. How on earth did he know her? He hadn't seen her face online, through his phone screen, but she was so damn familiar.

She was Charles's girlfriend. She was just a girl from Monaco that one of his best friends was now dating. But that wasn't how Max knew her, because this was the weekend they were taking to go public.

The way he was looking at her was creepy, incredibly so. Everybody that caught him staring at Charles's new girlfriend thought so, and somebody had to pull him up on it.

The problem was that Max didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know he was staring at her, too lost in his thoughts because where the hell did he know her from? He wasn't looking at her with lust on his face, more confusion than anything else.

Max had a dream that night. It was incredibly weird to be dreaming of somebody else while you old lady girlfriend slept beside you. (I'll be honest it was a real tragedy that Kelly attended that race weekend).

In this dream, Max wasn't Max. He didn't know his name, but he knew he was somebody else. The fact that he was in a horse drawn carriage should have given indication that his dream wasn't set it modern day.

"A ball, papa? Really?" Max was supposed to be a perpetual bachelor, he knew. He'd marry when he had to, when he needed an heir. But his father wanted him at this ball, wanted him there to watch out for his sister. Max hated it.

He'd have some friends at the ball, he knew, there to find themselves wives. He'd be there to glare at any man who thought himself a good enough match for his sister. Max would be the judge of that.

The ball was incredibly boring. He stood, talking to lords and other sons of lords. He spoke to hungry mamas that wanted to secure him as a good match for their daughters. He tried to be charming, he really did, but they were making it so damn hard.

But then she walked into the ball.

Max had been mid sip of his drink and was damn near ready to spit it out. He knew her brother, knew her mama, but had never met her before. God, she really was something else. Everything in the room seemed to dull in her presence.

This was the first time he had seen her, that was for sure.

Finishing his drink, Max started forward. Every man in the room would want to be on her dance card, he knew. He just had to hope that he'd get there first.

Another lord took her hand and danced across the floor with her. A dissatisfied noise left his lips as he watched them. He'd never been a very patient man, this was truly a test for him.

When the dance finished, she gave a polite bow and walked to find her mama or her brother.

Max intercepted her search. He gave his name and, with a bow, she gave her own. "So," he said, mouth running dry as he took her hand and the dance began. "Tell me about yourself."

She rattled off a list of accomplishments, things every young lady had been taught to do since birth. The pianoforte and embroidery. How many times had Max heard those two since he walked into the ball?

"That's not what I meant," he said with something of a laugh. "Tell me about yourself. You, the things you enjoy doing. Not the things your mama has had you doing since birth."

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Well, my lord, I enjoy dancing. Not like this, but full body moving. This is dainty and graceful, the dancing I enjoy is loud and expressive."

"It sounds impressive," he replied as they moved across the dance floor. He hadn't looked around since their dance began, but he knew that they were the two most sought after people in the room. And they were dancing together. It was like some cosmic joke, and he was the one laughing. "Do you think I could see it one day?"

Her eyes were bright, smile wide the moment the words left his lips. "I'm not sure, my lord. It wouldn't be very proper."

"I've never been one for propriety," he whispered in her ear.

She gasped, but she wasn't disgusted with him. Her eyes were sparkling and she looked as though she wanted to pull him outside, to show him how little she cared for propriety, too.

Suddenly, the doors were thrown open. The music stopped and everybody in the room whipped their head towards the door. There stood a man. Max didn't know him, and he knew almost everybody. But not this man, clothes a mess and expression crazed.

"Gregory," the girl dancing with him gasped.

The crazed man by the door narrowed his eyes at her. "My love!" He howled and marched towards them.

"What's going on?" Max tried to whisper to her, but she hid herself behind him.

Her hands shook as she gripped his arm. "He's crazy," she whispered back. "H-he wants me to be his wife! He hasn't courted me, he hasn't spoken to my mama or my brother. He has just declared that I'm the one he's going to marry."

When Gregory got close enough, Max placed his hand on his shoulder, holding him back. "My good sir," he said, trying to maintain polite. But she was trembling too much for him to stay composed. This man had an incredibly punchable face, he realised. "I'd advise you to leave the young lady alone."

Gregory let out another crazed howl. Before Max could push him away, there was a stinging pain in his chest. Gregory pulled his hand away from his chest and Max looked at where the man had just touched him.

The beautiful hilt of a knife was sticking out of his chest, red pooling around it and staining his shirt. "Oh," was all he could say before he dropped to the floor.

The screams started up almost instantly, but whoever Max had been was dead. He watched on, though, a ghostly figure watching as Gregory tried to drag her away.

"Come, my love," he commanded, but she pushed against him.

"No," she cried, desperately searching for help. But everybody was too afraid to move. What would Gregory do next? Surely he'd try to kill anybody that stood in his way.

"Darling, stop being so dramatic," he said and pulled her across the dance hall.

The first person to move was her brother. He produced a weapon, a gun that her certainly shouldn't have been carrying. But if Gregory had made himself a known problem, Max didn't blame him for carrying the gun.

But the shot didn't hit Gregory. It would have, if Gregory hadn't pulled her behind him. No, the bullet went through her back, and she dropped like a stone.

Max woke up with a start. He'd never thought about having a past life before, but this had been so real. It couldn't have been anything but.

He didn't know that, in another hotel room, Charles's girlfriend was having the same dream that he was. She dreamt of her own death, and that had terrified her enough to wake her up.

She hated that she was dreaming of the Red Bull driver, not when her boyfriend was sleeping beside her. She didn't even know Max. She'd heard of him, sure, but why was she dreaming of him?

The next day was the first time she met Max Verstappen. Well, the first time in this lifetime. Charles had introduced them, and they tried to act like they hadn't just dreamt about each other.

All they were allowed was one single meeting. A quick handshake and fate decided that they'd had enough. But it seemed to go this way in every lifetime for the two of them.

It was quite sad, wasn't it? That they never survived for much longer past their first meeting.

For Max, there was a crash. He was upside down and in the wall, unable to respond. The marshals and medical staff got him out of the car and into the ambulance, but it wasn't looking good.

It had been a freak accident, as well. No other cars were near him as he just... went. The red flag was brought out and Max was taken to the hospital.

Three hours later and he was dead. He was dead, but he was still there. Once again, he was a ghostly figure, watching her. He realised it then, the fucked up version of soulmates that they were. Only supposed to be together in death.

Her death was a medical mystery. Max watched on as she just... went. Charles was pushing on her chest, desperately calling an ambulance, but she was already gone.

He looked up as a second ghostly figure appeared. "Hey," he said.

She said his name. Not just Max, but every name he had ever gone by. When he was a pirate and she was the siren that lured him to his death. When he was fighting in the war and she was treating his wounds. When he was a lord and she a lady.

"Do you want to show me how you dance?" He asked, moving closer.

"That wouldn't be very proper," he replied.

The world kept moving without them. For now, until their next go around started, they were frozen in time.

"I've never been one for propriety."

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Our daddies uses to joke about the two of us | Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Summary: Your fathers' jokes turned to reality

Word count: 0.5k

I have not written for obx in a long time, but I was listening to Taylor Swift - as I very often do - and got this idea when hearing Mary's song

p.s. I'm back to writing for obx!! Sent requests!!

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You were seven and Rafe was nine when you met him.

Unlike him, your family didn’t live on the island. You had a summer house. Every July, your parents would pack and drive to Kildare to spend summer there. It was nice being close to the beach, but you didn’t have many friends.

Your fathers were golf partners at the country club and decided your families would celebrate 4th of July together at the Cameron estate. The house was massive and they had a pool and a large backyard to run around.

Sarah was introduced to you first, but she liked the color pink and turtles and you preferred lime green and stingrays. Therefore she couldn’t be your friend. Rafe liked lime green, but not stingrays…and you could live with that.

That summer, Rafe became your entire world.

You would go to the Cameron house and play pirates or swim in their pool. Your swimming skills weren’t the best, but Rafe was a great swimmer and promised he would never let you drown. Rose would bring you iced tea and animal crackers, and Rafe always let you have the tiger shaped ones.

At the end of summer, the country club had a season closure event and the loud noises of the fireworks were scaring you. You wanted to go to your mom for comfort, but you couldn’t see her. Instead, Rafe took your hand in his and distracted you by telling you about the frog Sarah caught and brought inside the house and a screaming Rose.

A year later, pink had become your favorite color, but you still spent your summer with Rafe. He didn’t want to play pirates anymore, but it was okay. 

When you turned nine, you dared him to kiss you under the backyard tree and ran when he tried because kissing was yucky. 

The fifth summer, Rafe had grown a few inches and was now towering over you. He kept saying he would beat you up because he was bigger than you, but he never did. He would never physically hurt you.

The following year, two boys started coming over to Rafe’s house. Kelce and Topper. They were always talking about girls — more specifically the brunette lifeguard at the beach. It made you uncomfortable, so you painted your nails with Sarah. 

A few years went by and you turned sixteen. Suddenly you weren't that little girl Rafe used to see. Your body had gone through puberty in the past year and on pool afternoons, Rafe had to force himself to stop looking at the way you filled your bikini and focus on the beach ball Topper was throwing at his head. 

You fathers used to joke about the two of you growing up and falling in love, but the joke was no longer one when you got caught kissing at midsummer. Rafe had another girl for date, but it was you he wanted to hold hands and dance with in that way-too-warm-for-summer tux. 

Goodbyes were extra difficult when August came to an end.

The breeze of the beach at night blew as you rested your head on his shoulder. Your friends were closer to the fire, drinking beer and celebrating the last day of summer. 

‘’I don't want you to leave,’’ Rafe said, watching as the water washed over the sand and swished. 

‘’Me either.’’ Your heart was heavy, knowing when morning come you'll get on the ferry and head home. ‘’I love you to the moon and Saturn, Rafe Cameron.’’

—

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[musubiki]

love the idea that for big gift events like limes birthday/christmas/valentines day, lime just has a MASS of gifts from all the girls at school who like him, and then while hes opening them up mochi is RIGHT THERE getting first dibs at the stuff he doesnt want

[writersdrug]

I NEED waitress!reader accidentally letting it slip that she’s got a date after her shift and so when bartender!simon overhears, he suddenly has a list of things she needs to do after work, causing her get to stay late ))): missing her date ))):

ANGST TIME

He's been watching you like a hawk for the past two hours - and rightfully so. You've been rushing through your tasks, rolling more than enough silverware, keeping your tables happy and stocked - you somehow managed to convince Soap to mop front of house for you. He doesn't like it. Why are you trying to get away?

"Got a date tonight." You tell him, skimming through your receipts as you sit at the bar and calculate your tips. You're not off the clock yet - you still have thirty minutes left. But the restaurant's empty, and all your tasks are done. Your makeup is a little nicer today, softer and less "morning after a deftones concert".

Simon's thankful for the mask, or else his frown would be impossible to miss. Is he dumb? Haven't you been flirting with him all week? Was this another one of your games, pretending to act innocent and coy, messing with him, then announcing you're going out with someone else?!

He feels his shoulders tensing as he watches you tap away at your phone's calculator. He shouldn't be so bothered by this - some things just need to be let go. But he can't. He wants to keep you in his back pocket, or in an empty whiskey bottle on his liquor shelf - not the one behind the bar, but the personal collection in his room on the third floor.

"That's nice," he grumbles, slicing through a lime. "Jus' make sure you finish your chores 'fore you head out."

"Already did!" You chirp at him with a smile. "Just need to do my tips, and I'll be done."

"Did ya clean the ice bins?" He asks.

You furrow your brow. "Huh?"

He jerks his head to the whiteboard on the wine fridge - sure enough, your name is scribbled in, right next to "drain and wash/sanitize ice bins + buckets", along with today's date.

You look back at Simon, your expression now crestfallen. Your date is in an hour, and you still have twenty minutes on your shift. "Don't you usually do it?"

Truthfully, he does. He could do it today, in fact. But his brain is acting on thoughts before he has the chance to consider the consequences. "Can't today, luv. Preppin' for a bigger crowd tomorrow."

Your shoulders slump. "How long does it take?"

"Well, you got to turn 'em off - one by one, I can't have two empty ice bins durin' a shift - then ya dump the ice, wait for 'em to warm up, then ya go in there with soap n' a rag, rinse 'em out, then-"

"God, can this please wait until tomorrow? I'll come in early and do it, I promise."

He looks at you sternly, and you suddenly feel ashamed for asking. "Wot, so I can pay you overtime?"

"Simon, please - if you do them, I'll give you half my tips for today."

"Now y' dumpin' your work on me?"

"I've got a date!"

"I've got my own shit too!"

You snap your mouth shut. He's never been this stern with you, but you know it's well deserved. It's your chore, after all. You'd been wrong to assume he would do it himself, despite that being the usual. You quickly hop out of the barstool and make your way behind the bar, unplugging the first icebin.

Simon watches as you scurry around, running to and from the ice bin into the kitchen, filling up bucket after bucket of ice and dumping it into the sink in the back. You pace as the machine warms up, glancing at your phone every few minutes, then touching the inside of the ice maker to check the temperature. After a few minutes, you're scrubbing the machine as fast as you can with a soapy rag and a bucket of sanitizer eater next to you.

Twenty minutes have gone by. You're supposed to be on your way to your date, but you're biting your lip, staring angrily at the ice machine as it cools down again. You need to wait for it to be cold before you refill it with ice, and only then can you start on the other machine.

You make another attempt towards Simon. "If I just do one tonight and do the other in the morning-"

"No." Simon snaps, his eyes angry as he drops a container of sliced fruit onto the bar. "This is part of havin' a job."

You look away from him, tears stinging your eyes now. You're so frustrated you want to snap back at him - but he's right, isn't he? Maybe you could ask him if you could just call Max and let him know you'll be running late - but the thought of asking Simon for anything right now (other than more chores) makes you queasy.

Simon doesn't know where the anger came from, but it's still simmering. He watches as you continue to run back and forth, filling up the old ice bin, unplugging the second one, dumping the ice in the back... he's refilling the bloody Mary mix and restocking the bitters. Simple things. He's got nothing to do after this besides go up to his flat and sit in front of the telly, or maybe chat with Soap before he heads home. Why didn't he just do it? Because you had a date, and that was a problem for him. Why? Now you're upset, and it's that knowledge that makes him finally feel the shame that he'd been swallowing down.

You finish dumping the last bucket of ice into the second machine. It's forty minutes after your shift ended. You still have to get to the restaurant you and Max were meeting at, which is a twenty minute walk. You were supposed to be there ten minutes early - now you're going to be an hour late. Frustration mingles with anxiety and burns in the forefront of your mind. But you can't be mad. You should've done your job.

Simon doesn't say anything when you run to the back, your phone pressed to your ear and tears in your eyes. You barely manage a wave to Soap as you grab your bag and jacket and flounder back into the restaraunt. You don't look at Simon.

"I'm leaving now, I'm so sorry- I had to finish up at work and it too longer than I-" you slowed to a walk, then a stop, standing in the middle of the floor. Simon was frozen, watching your shoulders shake.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had-... it's not an excuse, I promise I'm-... listen, we can go for a walk or something, right? Or go get fast food, someplace still open, just you and me, and we can try again another-"

His eyes burn in his skull as he watches you stand there for a few more seconds, staring at your phone as the call disappears from the screen. He wants to say something - but what can he say? He's already fucked you over. And he doesn't feel any better than when he first discovered your little date. He feels worse.

You stuff your phone in your back pocket, unable to hide the single, choked sob that escapes your throat. You shoulder your bag and stomp your way out of the restaurant, door clanging behind you. Your bike is still in the alley out back, and your unfinished tips are still on the bartop. He wouldn't be surprised if you never come back to collect them.

Soap emerges from the kitchen breaking Simon from his thoughts and wiping his hands on a rag. "Real feckin' kind of ye, Ghost. Never seen such a right cunt." He glares at Simon, before slapping the rag on the table and heading back into the kitchen. His shift was over, too.

Simon has three more hours left to deal with himself before the bar closes.

[super-cosmic-library]

staring at you staring at me

written for @steddie-week day 3: mutual pining

wc: 1085 I rating: G I tags: alpha steve harrington, omega eddie munson, courting, happy ending I [ao3]

“If you don’t stop staring at him, I’m going to tell Keith you’ve been slacking on the job.”

“You wouldn’t,” Steve says, turning away from watching Eddie examine every single VHS in the horror section of Family Video.

“No, I wouldn’t,” Robin agrees. “Did you know he tried asking me out again?”

“What the fuck? What’s wrong with him?”

“I could give you a list. First off, he needs a better deodorant, his sense of humor is abysmal, he thinks that women can hold their periods in like pee, he doesn’t know what the Loch Ness Monster is, he . . .”

Steve glances back at Eddie as his best friend continues to prattle on about their manager’s flaws. Eddie’s examining the same copy of Friday the 13th he’d looked at the day before. Steve loves the way the omega’s face scrunches up as he reads the synopsis before putting it back on the shelf and moving on to the next film.

Eddie’s attention flickers over to them, catching the alpha’s eyes. Steve gives him a little finger wave, which has Eddie pulling a chuck of hair in front of his face to hide behind.

“Steve, are you even listening to me?”

“Uh, yeah,” he whips around to look back at her, trying to recall the last thing she’d said. “Keith calls mashed avocados guacamole.”

“It’s just avocado, salt, and lime juice, Steve! That’s not guacamole!”

“Yeah, no, totally.” His gaze wanders back to Eddie, who’s now examining Fright Night.

“Just court him already.”

It’s a discussion they’d had repeatedly over the past several months. Steve had come up with excuses to not court the omega every time, ranging from giving him time to heal from his demobat wounds to having to kill Vecna again to Steve just having a bad hair day.

“My hair can’t be a mess if I’m going to start courting someone. It’s my best feature.” Steve had said.

Now, though, after months of excuses, he doesn’t have the energy for anything less than the truth. “What if he doesn’t want me?”

Robin raises an eyebrow at that. “Really? You think that Eddie doesn’t want you?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not exactly the type of alpha a guy like Eddie would go for. I mean, you’ve heard his cafeteria rants. I represent everything Eddie hates in the world.”

“He hates secretly nerdy guys who fight monsters and mother pups that don’t belong to him?”

“Preps,” he gestures to his starched polo and jeans. “He hates preps and rich kids.”

“Well, you’re not exactly rich anymore.”

She’s right. His parents had cut him off back in June when they found out once again that he’d not been accepted into any of the colleges they’d wanted him to apply for. In the year since he had graduated, his parents had expected that he would use the free time to round out his character and develop more “real world” experience to make his college applications more appealing to admissions boards. Unfortunately for them, the colleges they’d demanded he apply to required better greats than the ones he’d eeked by with. So his dad decided to cut him loose. Now, he rents the Henderson’s basement from Claudia, happy to help out around the house and get more time to torment Dustin like a real brother would.

“Come on, Steve. He’s in here practically every day for hours at a time, browsing the same selection of movies and making eyes at you. I mean, have you ever even seen him rent a VHS?”

“That’s because I rent them for him with my employee discount.”

“Does he even watch them?”

“Yeah, we watch them in the trailer for our weekly movie nights. I’ve told you about them, Rob.”

“Uh huh, uh huh,” she nods. “And how, exactly, do you two sit when you ‘watch’ these movies? Opposite ends of the couch? Separate seats entirely? Cause I’m willing to bet that not only do you cuddle during them, but Eddie initiates it.”

She’s right. But friends can cuddle without being romantically interested in each other. He and Robin cuddle sometimes. He and Tommy used to cuddle all the time before they drifted apart. Cuddling doesn’t mean Eddie’s interested in being courted by him.

He repeats the sentiment to her.

“I’m just saying, I think he’d be interested if you court him.”

“She’s right.”

Steve practically jumps out of his skin. He hadn’t heard Eddie approach the circulation counter. Embarrassment floods his cheeks. “Eddie, what–”

“You know I can hear everything you guys say, right? This place isn’t that big, and your voices are loud.”

Steve wants to shrivel up in a hole and die. He’s going to have to change his identity and move to a different state in order to escape his mortification. He’s going to have to–wait. Did he say . . .

“Did you say she was right?”

“Yeah. I feel like I’m going crazy with anticipation for when you start courting me,” Eddie easily admits. “I would have started courting you, but you seem like the kind of guy who’s traditional in that sense.”

Oh, god. He gets to court Eddie. Eddie wants him to court him. This revelation makes him want to sprint home to grab the gifts he’s been accumulating over the past few months and give them all to him at once.

Calm down, tiger. No need to rush it. Eddie deserves a proper courting ritual.

“So, when I ask to court you, you’re going to say yes?” His thoughts are in overdrive. He needs the confirmation before he gets ahead of himself with planning.

“Yes,” Eddie smiles.

Steve takes in a deep breath. “Eddie, sweetie, I’m going to need you to leave.”

The omega’s face falls. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m going to start freaking out in a really embarrassing way, and I don’t want you to see it. And,” he shoots him the signature Harrington smile. “I’ve got to start planning out our first date.”

Eddie pulls his hair in front of his face, swaying on the balls of his feet. “Will I still see you for our movie night tonight?”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it. You still want Beetlejuice?”

Eddie nods.

“See you at eight, then.” He gives him a wink.

As soon as the shop door closes, Steve turns on Robin, eager to start talking through all his ideas until he comes up with the world’s best and most perfect first date.

The beta slumps against the counter. “Oh, god, what have I done?”

[water-to-drink]

Isekai Bartender!Reader Pt 2

(Characters): Diona (platonic), Kaveh, & Al haitham

(Tags/ Warnings): Gn!reader, mentions of alcohol, headcanon format, (lmk if I missed anything)

(Word Count): 850

(A/n): Decided to make a part 2 of the original post and I hope my favoritism isn’t showing too much

First part

Diona

𐃯 She hates you with a passion, well she hates anyone involved in the alcohol industry

𐃯 Her hatred towards you changes when you refuse to serve any more alcohol to someone she obviously can tell is way past buzzed

𐃯 No matter how much the boozer argued that he can have one more drink, you stuck to your guns

𐃯 She soon learns that all of your patrons leave not as inebriated compared to other bartenders by the time the bar closes

𐃯 Poor girl is so confused, how can you serve people alcohol and yet refuse to serve them past a certain point?

𐃯 Diona has had enough of this internal conflict and thus decides to go to your bar and demand answers

“Diona! You want me to whip you up a mocktail or are you good with just plain juice?”

𐃯 You can imagine the young bartender’s astonishment, when you explain the concept of virgin drinks. Along with you saying it’s your duty to not serve obviously drunk people

𐃯 Maybe her old approach to destroying the wine industry was wrong (it had the opposite effect and brought more people to her bar) maybe if she makes nonalcoholic drinks taste better then the alcoholic ones, people will now see how evil alcohol is

Congrats you now have an apprentice!

𐃯 Now that Diona is your apprentice she’ll demand to know more about bartending in your world, especially these “virgin drinks and mocktails.”

𐃯 With the knowledge you so foolishly gave the young bartender, her goal of destroying the very bane of her existence will come to fruition!!

Kaveh

𐃯 He’s heard rumors of a new bartender who makes drinks that are out of his world, technically it is

𐃯 Being a man who enjoys alcohol, he needed to see these “otherworldly” drinks for himself

𐃯 Once he makes it to the bar, he was greeted with your brilliant smile

“Hi, what would you like to drink this evening?”

“Well, what would you recommend?”

𐃯 You went through what are his preferred taste in drinks and after you got enough information you started to make his drink

𐃯 Kaveh watched curiously as you poured the ingredients into the glass before finishing the drink off with a lime garnish (pretend they have limes in Teyvat for a moment)

𐃯 Needless to say he was blown away by the taste and not to mention how you elegantly made the drink

𐃯 After that Kaveh regularly went to you to make his drinks whenever he entered the tavern, he prefers you to make his drinks and won’t have any other bartender make his drink. If you’re busy with another patron he’ll wait until you’re done

𐃯 You caught him making little doodles on napkins and on closer inspection you saw that the doodles were of you making drinks. He was a bit flustered when you asked if you keep the drawings

𐃯 He offered to make more detailed drawings if you just give him enough time

𐃯 He loves it when you dress up his drinks, using the petals of a padisarah as a garnish just makes him not want to drink it!

𐃯 The way you present your drinks just gives him the urge to draw up some designs either for an upcoming project or a potential new drink

𐃯 Speaking of new drinks, Kaveh is your professional taste tester for any new drinks you come up with

Alhaitham

𐃯 Just like Kaveh, Al haitham heard talks about you and wanted to see for himself

𐃯 He ordered his usual and began asking you about your world, at this point you’re used to people coming up to you curious about your home but the way Al haitham approached you felt more like a police interrogation

𐃯 After the first few visits you’ve gotten used to him and his constant questioning, you even began to learn about his life

𐃯 From his preferences in alcohol and to his constant squabbles with his roommate, but you do most of the talking

𐃯 Al haitham says that he likes hearing you explain the drinks, but in actuality he loves the look of joy you put on when you tell him the science and history behind the drinks you’re making

𐃯 He would pay attention to what you’re saying but you look so cute when your excitedly explain the drinks to him, it’s a bit distracting. But he doesn’t have to worry because you’re willing to explain it to him again however many times he needs

𐃯 The scribe would even try various drinks, but his favorite part is while you’re making the drink you explain the different cultures that the various drinks came from

𐃯 He would pick up various culinary books and give you suggestions on what ingredients would go well together

𐃯 The both of you do try out these recipes, some are hit or miss but if Al haitham has to drink a couple of awful tasting drinks to spend time with you them it’s a logical decision in his mind

[charliehoennam]

feral love

a/n: @sizzlingcloudmentality had me in a chokehold with this idea.

prompt: Being all up in your face, pissed and horny, hands all over you? Not a single fuck given due to the fact that they are in a bar or something "look at your face while I fuck some sense into you." And he grips her neck from behind and makes her look into the mirror above the sink

pairing: will miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v, jealous will, mentions of breaking up (sorta)

SHARING IS CARING, REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

It’s the first date you’ve been on since the rough break-up with Will. You had decided to take a break when the arguments started to become a constant in your daily life.

Technically, you didn’t even know it was a date. You thought you were just getting drinks with your friend. You hadn’t realized she had set you up on a blind date until you arrived at the bar and saw her boyfriend sitting at a table along with his friend.

You didn’t want to be rude, so you figured you’d stay and enjoy the drinks she had promised. Might as well now that you’re already here.

The friend isn’t too bad. Although you keep mistaking the name Louis for Luke, he’s rather cute and seems nice. He keeps asking you questions about your job, where you’re from, your hometown.

He’s trying to make enough small talk to get you comfortable, which you kindly appreciate.

Your answers are slightly short, but kind and enough to keep the small talk going, despite the fact that Louis keeps getting the sense that you don’t want to be there. He’s not wrong about that.

The bar is pretty packed with people excited to see a band play live as they ready their instruments. When the music starts, everyone instantly makes their way to crowd around the elevated stage.

Sitting by yourself at the table to wallow in your fourth – or is the fifth now? –  gin and tonic. Pushing the ice and slice of lime around with your straw, you scan the bar fidgeting uncomfortable in your seat.

Most of the guests are dancing and singing to the music, a few are scattered here and there sitting at the bar or tables to continue their talk. Some are hanging around the pool tables, taking turns. No one really catches your eyes – not that you were even looking for one who might – until your eyes land on a familiar face staring at you from the bar.

Your chest rises heavily but quickly as you stare at Will. His short blonde hair is slightly unkempt along with his beard. He’s wearing the black hoodie that used to swallow you when you’d put it on to get the take-out after a round of good fucking when he’d come home from deployment.

It still smells like your perfume which is why he hardly wears it now, but this night was an exception. He missed you and he wanted to feel like you were still somehow close.

When he saw you in the bar, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. He had to go over to talk to you, but when he noticed you weren’t alone, the courage he had was shot to shit.

Will became quietly furious and told the guys that he was just gonna drink by the bar, that they should go ahead and shoot pool without him because he wanted to be alone.

They kept an eye on him from the distance while he kept his eye on you. With every smile and laugh Louis managed to pull out of you, Will took a shot of whisky along with his beer to keep him from flipping tables. He was ready to drag the man out of there by his collar.

But instead, he sat back and watched you. Watched how you played with your hair like you used to play with it around him, how you rubbed your lips together to even out your lipstick.

Louis’s glance at them didn’t go unnoticed by Will. He remembered how he used to watch your lips because he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of them.

You can tell from the flaring nostrils that he is livid. It’s not out of fear; you know he would never do anything to hurt you.

You can’t stop feeling like a bug on a microscope, so you quickly avert your eyes and look at your drink. Taking a last long gulp of it, you push the glass aside and grab your purse.

You make for the bathroom seeking shelter from Will’s penetrating gaze, but before you can reach the door, you feel a hand grabbing your arm in the empty hallway that leads toward it.

“I just wanna talk.”

“It’s never just a talk between us, Will” you argue trying to avoid the large silhouette of him cast by the dim dive bar light.

“You’re out with someone else? You haven’t even moved your things out.”

“I’m not out with him. I came here with Natalie and she didn’t tell me we’d be meeting them.”

“Are you fucking him?”

You frown at how quick he is to dismiss your entire explanation. All he can think about is that?

“Are you serious? That’s what you wanna ask?”

“Are you fucking him or not?”

“Yes, I am. What’s it to you?”

Lying to Will is stupid. The man interrogates terrorists from for a living. He knows a lie – especially coming from you – when he hears one. But you just can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that you are still madly in love with him and that it’s why you haven’t moved your things out of his place yet. Inside, you still hope to go back home to him.

He doesn’t reply to you because he knows you’re lying, but it doesn’t stop from getting angry at the thought of you with someone else. You, kissing and touching and fucking someone that’s not him. Their hands holding you and stroking your hair and other parts of your that are meant just for him. That someone else gets to see you come undone, with your hair a perfect mess and lips swollen from his kisses.

That is meant for him. And him only. He can’t understand why you haven’t come home yet, but he does understand why you haven’t come for your things. You can try to hide it as best as you can, but he can see right through your façade.

“You’re fucking him huh?”

His towering frame steps closer, intimidatingly cornering you against the wall. His hand doesn’t leave your arm. The stare he casts down at you has goosebumps travelling over your skin. Like a bunny caught in a trap, you know you’re done for.

“Does he fuck you Iike I do?” he questions nudging his nose at the hair on the crown of your head

“Even better” you snap, trying to resist the trance he holds you under.

He scoffs with a false smile.

“Let’s fucking see about that,” he snarls pulling you into the bathroom.

You frown at the way he shoves you inside, holding your arm where the indents of his fingers are still printed into your skin as you question what his problem is.

“My problem is you.”

Locking the bathroom door, he quickly closes the space between you. His lips crash hungrily against yours. His hand balls the hair on the back of your head, keeping you close and unable to pull away from him. Not that you would either way.

You’ve missed this, you’ve missed him. You’ve missed his kiss. You’ve missed his touch. You’ve missed everything about him.

The way your tongues dance with one another makes you forget why you had even left the house in the first place. As he pushes you back towards the sink, your hands reach for his thick neck to keep yourself from falling over with his eagerness.

Although the music echoes into the bathroom, all you can hear is the heavy breathing and desperate moans coming from the pair of you as eager hands grope clumsily at each other.

The drinks you had only add to the intoxication of his kiss, whisky lingering on his lips. The room spins around you as his mouth reaches that one spot on your neck that he knows drives you insane.

Your head lulls back in a daze and your eyes close to savor the touch of his hand under the top you have on. He groans massaging your flesh and works his way down to your ass, shoving itself past your jeans to push them down as the loose fabric slides down easily.

His large hands grope your cheeks spreading them with a slight burn that only soaks your pussy even more. Will watches his hands knead and massage your flesh the reflection of the mirror like you’re his favorite personal playdough, fingers invading under the fabric of your panties.

With his throbbing dick grinding against you, he closes his eyes and lets himself melt back into the kiss. Keeping a firm grip on your ass, he moves his other hand to your front to shove it down your panties.

You moan his name, pulling away from his kiss desperate for air when he circles around and over your hardened clit.

“Jesus Fuck, Will,” you gasp gripping at his hoodie with your nails. “Fuck, that feels s-so good. Right there…”

With his other hand balled into the back of your hair, he forces your mouth back onto his to continue his selfish prodding with his tongue.

“he touch you like this?” he breathes, mouth opening against your cheek.

“N-no,” you mumble into him.

He smirks watching your face pinch at the pleasure he wants to remind you only he can offer. Gathering the slick from your folds, he hisses at the dampness.

“He get you wet like this too huh? Ain’t even fucked you yet and you’re fucking drenched, baby.”

You shake your head as if he didn’t already know the answer. He just likes hearing that no one makes you feel as good as he can.

Drunk on his touch, the scent of him fills your lungs and goes straight to your head coursing through your veins like a drug. You palm the hard outline of his cock through his jeans and quickly work to unbutton them, high on him as his fingers push into your dripping entrance.

You quickly fumble your hand into his pants and briefs desperate to feel his hard dick. The touch of your hand on his cock shatters the hard front he tries to hold onto.

“Shit, baby,” he whimpers biting into your shoulder when your thumb swipes over his leaking tip.

His fingers cease their movement for a quick moment as you tug on his cock, driving him insane with every stroke. Addicted to you, he turns you around to face the mirror on the wall.

As he quickly pushes his pants and briefs down, you mimic him by quickly pushing your panties down your thighs and spread your legs, angling your hips and arching your ass out to welcome him.

His mouth hungrily latches onto your neck as his cock glides roughly against you drench folds, gathering your slick to mingle with his pre-cum. Licking a glob of his spit onto the fingers that were inside you, he savors the sweet familiar taste he’s longed for as he coats the saliva over the tip of his cock.

“Look at me.” His command has your eyes shooting up to obey, taking in the sight your stained lipstick. “Feel me.”

Staring at your reflection, he watches you to make sure your eyes never leave his as he slowly pushes his cock into your cunt.

“Take it. Take it like a good girl.”

Your eyebrows furrow at the slow delicious burn you feel as his cock slowly spears itself in between your clenching walls.

“You’re my girl,” he whispers wrapping a hand on your neck. The wetness of his spit and your pussy feels cold against your skin.

You nod in agreement gazing hopeless into his dark eyes.

“Say it” he orders bottoming out, balls deep in you.

“I-I’m your girl” you nod, eyes and hips pleading for movement at the fullness of his cock.

“Only my girl?” he questions shoving a hand down to again toy with your clit.

“Only your girl.”

He smiles and finally starts moving his hips, fucking you hard and slow.

“Show me your tits, baby girl.”

Without hesitation, your hands excitedly push your bra and tops up bunching them together over your chest. Will kisses the back of your head praising your obedience, whispering how much he loves you as his hips pick up the pace.

The ungodly sounds of your damp and hot cheeks clapping against his relentless hips fill the bathroom along with your panting. Growing closer and closer to your orgasm, you grip the edge of the countertop and bite down on your bottom lip, taking him raw and rough as best as you can, trying to last longer but the fingers rubbing your clit force your orgasm to come soon than you hoped.

“Look, baby” he orders with a hand under your jaw as he pounds into you, fingertips squeezing into your warm cheeks.

Your teary eyes struggle to fix clearly on the mirror but you obey regardless. You’ll always obey him; a slave to his love.

His hips stutter in their movements as he finally cums into you, filling your walls with warmth.

“Look at you. This is where you belong. With me.” He breathes against your ear.

“Where do you belong hm?” he asks slowly pushing his load deeper and deeper in you with gentle thrusts.

“W-with you.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles and places a tender kiss to your cheek. “Go say goodbye to your friends and tell ‘em you’re coming home.”

[catboyieejeno]

don't kiss and tell: 2 ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

other parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

pairings: best friend! mark + best friend! jeno + best friend! hyuck x female! reader summary: a week after the events of the kissing bet, you and the boys are having a game night. everything is going smoothly, but it seems the problem always arises when hyuck starts insisting he’s the best at something. content: non-idol au, explicit smut, cursing, pet names, drinking (everyone is tipsy), oral (f! receiving), slight poly action wc: 4.8k

masterlist

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

18+ minors do not interact !

your eyes shut tightly as though the simple gesture would make the beer you're chugging any more appetizing. from the couch, your friends whoop and clap, cheering you on.

despite their enthusiasm, you grimace at them, hiccupping.

“hyuck cheated!” the back of your arm comes up to wipe your mouth. with an exaggerated gasp, hyuck's hand flies to his chest as if your accusation could not have offended him more.

“whaaat? i did not cheat- actually, yeah, i definitely did.”

the boy yells out when you reclaim your seat beside him, landing a couple of half-hearted blows on his arm that he weakly blocks.

mark quickly recoils away from your fight, trying to protect both his red solo cup full of fizzy beer, and his last few playing cards from everyone's eyes.

"you have to drink too, then, cheater," droopy-eyed, jeno points this out from his spot on the floor where he sits, shoulders slumped and knees tucked into his chest. he lays his head onto the coffee table that has been repurposed into the night's designated gaming area, covered by an array of different cards, board games, console controllers, salt, beer cans, and a few too many lime wedges.

hyuck only whines in protest, shaking his head no, "i'm tired of playing cards," he tosses them onto the table, leaning back into the cushions with his blood-shot eyes closed.

"what? no! i was gonna win for sure this time!" mark groans.

"boohoo. you snooze, you lose, mark.” his words are somewhat slurred, spoken mockingly in a sing-song tone, “let's play another game.”

"mmm," you hum, intrigued, "like what?" the latest drink you had to chug just moments ago, thank you, hyuck, has made your cheeks glow hot, and while you're not yet drunk, you've definitely been tipsy for the last hour or so.

tiredly, you rest your head onto mark's shoulder and pat his back as he huffs, leaning in to show you his perfect hand that would have surely won him the game.

"i know! truth or dare." hyuck snaps his fingers as the idea comes to him, looking between all of you. mark finally gives up on the cards, discarding them on the table as he turns to you younger boy.

"dude, what are you," jeno snickers, "twelve?"

"jeno, truth or dare?" he pushes.

with a sigh, jeno decides to humor him and gives in, "truth," he replies, leaning back on his palms.

"is it true that you’ve been single for two years because yeeun cheated on you?”

“haha,” he mocks, “fuck your game. i’m not answering that.”

“if you don’t wanna answer, you gotta drink.” hyuck practically beams with satisfaction.

“fine.” jeno takes a swig from his cup, slightly furrowing his brows at the bitterness. he points back at the boy, suddenly more confident as an idea comes to mind, “truth or dare.”

as self-assured as ever, lee donghyuck smirks, “dare,”

“i dare you to call miyeon.”

immediately, mark snorts, taking a sip from his drink as he eyes hyuck, awaiting his reaction. as you pair the name with a face, you lift your head, gasping, “is miyeon the girl you made cry after you guys had sex?”

“that’s exactly right.” jeno nods mischievously, reaching for donghyuck’s phone and handing it to him.

“dude, no way.” he pushes it away, grabbing his cup instead, “i hooked up with her twice like four months ago and that was that.”

mark raises a brow, ”damn, were you that bad at it?”

“no!” he says incredulously, as if his question was beyond far-fetched, “i wasn’t bad at all, moron. in fact, she said i was the best head she’s ever had.” he gloats, eyebrows wiggling.

at this, you laugh. and i mean, really fucking laugh. hand-covering-your-mouth and on-the-verge-of-tears type of laugh, “yeah fucking right,” you breathe out in between giggles.

mark and jeno were just about ready to laugh in hyuck’s face too, ridicule him for bragging about something they doubted to be true, but following your reaction, they immediately bite their tongues.

hyuck turns to blink you, just as shocked as the other two boys.

"y/n... you're officially cut off." jeno pulls all the beer cans toward himself and away from you but you can only shake your head and wave him off with your hand.

“sorry,” you apologize, wiping the corner of your eye.

hyuck scoffs, “what’s so funny?”

you look between the three of them, lips parted. when you speak, your voice is bouncy with amusement, like your next words are the most obvious thing in the world:

“everyone knows guys suck at giving head.” ...cue the chaos.

“woah, what?!” jeno chokes on his spit, eyes widening.

mark puts his cup to the side, leaning in as if he might've misheard you, “there’s no way you seriously think that.”

“who the hell’s been giving you head?” hyuck retorts, sitting up straighter like he's suddenly very interested in what you have to say.

“every girl knows it." you explain plainly, "my ex was only okay at it and even then, i had to tell him what i liked a few times before he eventually got that hang of it."

now, it's the guys' turn to laugh.

hyuck chuckles in disbelief, "is that the only guy who's given you head?"

"no, there's been others." you reply with a shrug, a bit more shy with all of their eyes on you.

"like, how many, though?" the liquor was blurring all boundaries of friendship between the four of you; normally, mark would be too shy to even bring something like this up, yet here he is asking how many guys have eaten you out.

and jeno? way too respectful and modest to ask about something this, but now his eyes bore into yours, gaze unfaltering as he hangs on your every word. even lee donghyuck had never been so keen on knowing the details of your sex life.

there's a redness flourishing on your cheeks, and it's not from the beers, "...a few? i don't know. it's not like i keep count."

"none of those guys knew what they were doing, believe me."

"why should i? because one girl said you were the best she's ever had?" you mock, eyebrows raising in disbelief.

"oh," he smirks, "i'm pretty fucking good," you scoff at hyuck, crossing your arms. his eyes relax, looking at you teasingly. a line of white appears below his dark irises as he tilts his head, "what? you don't believe me?"

"no." you reply quickly.

"in all fairness, neither do i." jeno adds.

mark leans back on the couch, one arm across the top, "yeah, i gotta agree with them. sorry, man."

his tongue presses into his cheek, "alright, fine. it's my turn right? y/n, truth or dare."

you shrug, "dare."

"if you don't think my head is incredible then i dare you to let me prove you wrong."

your eyes widen. "truth." you quickly amend.

he laughs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "okay, i'll bite: y/n, is it true that you've never come from head?"

you debate not answering, but your mouth moves before your brain can finish the thought, "that's true." you're speaking barely above a whisper.

"then let me have the honor of being the first guy who-"

"well, hold on a second,” alas, you can always trust jeno to be the voice of reason, "hyuck, i'm not letting you represent. I'm definitely better than you," or not.

"i've lived with you for four years, jeno, and i never once heard you pleasuring yeeun when you were together. besides, it's been forever since you last went down on a girl. you're rusty, dude."

"i don't know. i think the best out of us is me," mark pipes up, liquid-courage taking over, "but i happen to be biased."

"woah," as the gravity of the situation registers, you hold your arms out, "you're all talking about me like i'm not here."

"you're right, princess," at hyuck's pet name, your clit pulses and you suddenly feel that much more intoxicated, even though you're barely even tipsy anymore, "so tell me, who do you want to eat you out?"

if you were completely sober, you would probably have said something along the lines of "what the fuck? ew! none of you." or maybe "who says i want any of you to eat me out?"

some snarky comment—or any comment at all, really—would've suited you just fine! but, the reality is: the mere possibility of your three best friends going down on you is causing your thighs to squeeze together subconsciously.

so of course, your words betray you, and what you end up pathetically muttering is "i-i'm not sure."

"hey, wait a second." hyuck turns to mark, then jeno, "this feels familiar, doesn't it?" the boys catch on to what he's saying, snickering quietly, "we all think we're the best right? so, why don't we make a little bet?"

you instantly whine in protest, "no, no way. i don't want you guys to make me pick a winner again."

"oh, don't worry," jeno brings a hand up to your knee, thumb rubbing your skin, "we'll definitely know who won this time around." he looks at hyuck, "trust me... we'll hear it," and you think, this may be the first time they so easily agree on something.

instinctively, you turn to your other side in search of mark who is already looking back at you through half-lidded eyes. he knew by your gaze exactly what you needed to hear.

"if this is something you want to do," his hand comes down from the top of the couch and onto your back to rub it soothingly, "then just say it, baby. we won't think differently of you. i know i speak for all of us when i say," his tongue swipes at his lips, "this will be as much fun for us as it will be for you."

you nod slowly, hips squirming, and let out a little breath. "okay. yeah, okay."

hyuck's eyes light up at your response and he shuffles back to make room in front of him, "lay down, pretty girl."

your stomach does a flip, unaccustomed to the collection of pet names hyuck is trying on you tonight, and you’re entirely sure there will be more coming from him, not to mention the other two boys.

you scoot down toward hyuck, brushing your hair to one side. behind you, mark pats his lap twice and you lie back, head resting on his thighs. when your eyes blink up at him nervously, he can't help but smile crookedly, captivated by you— so much so, that his pants get a noticeably tighter when he realizes he has the best view in the house.

"let me know if you wanna stop," mark reassures you.

"i don’t,” you mumble, keeping your voice steady despite the nerves and excitement bubbling in your stomach, “i don’t wanna stop.”

jeno sits a bit closer, "okay, but if at any point you're not sure, just let us know, yeah?"

"god, i can't wait to watch you fall apart." your head snaps back up to mark, and you clench around nothing at his words. there’s no way you haven’t pooled your panties by now, especially with the way you’re cunt is throbbing, edged on by the alcohol content in in your bloodstream.

"alright, baby. can i be honest?" hyuck asks.

you look down at him and nod your head yes, shivering when his fingers brush the hem of your shirt up a to reveal the button of your shorts and some of your stomach. a gasp leaves your lips as hyuck leans in, lips hovering over your exposed skin, breath tickling you with every exhale.

"i've imagined doing this to you many times," he continues, "you're so fucking hot." as he undoes the button and slides your zipper down, he places a single kiss above your bellybutton.

with one hand, he tugs off your shorts. they’re quickly discarded somewhere along on the floor and you're left in nothing but your panties.

now, the only thing left to cover your core from their hungry eyes is a thin, black strip of lace and cotton, and hyuck has to purse his lips to avoid drooling at the sight. his mouth is salivating, two fingers hooking around the material, "can i?" when you wordlessly nod, he purses his lips.

"tsk, tsk. try again."

"yes, hyuck. take them off.” you whisper.

he hums in approval and bemusement, removing the fabric in one smooth motion. your panties join your shorts on the floor.

every part of you is buzzing with sensitivity. the cool breeze that hits your slick makes you let out a shaky breath, and jeno chuckles from beside you.

both of hyuck’s hands slide up your bare legs and stop at your knees to gently guide them apart. he then settles between your thighs, sucking in a breath at the looks of you. your pretty folds are covered in your arousal, glistening, begging to be touched.

you can't help but feel small under the gaze of all three boys who gawk at you, growing hard in their pants at the way you're so pleasantly displayed for them.

"fuck, your pussy is so pretty." hyuck's eyes finally meet yours as he leans in to press a kiss to your thigh, one of his arms wrapping around to hold it in place, a preemptive measure, “i’m gonna make you come so hard,”

“we’ll see,” you tease, wiggling your hips slightly as if testing his grip and patience.

he only manages to scoffs at you, committed to doing it right; he wouldn’t bother to argue your lack of faith with words… as promised, he would simply prove you wrong.

you suppress a hiss as his tongue pokes out to lick a clean stripe from your entrance to your clit, eyes locked on yours and watching the way your lips part. teasingly, he kisses your sensitive bud a few times, tongue flattening against it as he seeks out how every action provokes a new reaction from you.

softly, just to test the waters, he attaches his mouth to you and sucks. when your hips slightly buck up, he takes a mental note, pulling back to lap at you again.

your core is buzzing eagerly, receptive to each new touch and sensation. everything felt fucking good, and he’s barely even begun. for the first time tonight, you think you’re definitely in over your head.

your first moan surprises you when he dips his tongue into you, fucking you with it at a passive pace, and you can’t help but lean up onto your elbows to get a better view of his face pressed into your cunt.

“you’re so beautiful,” jeno praises. his hand reaches up to hold your face and you lean into his touch, panting slightly as hyuck swipes at your folds. jeno trails his fingers down to stop at the hem of your shirt, eyes blinking at you for permission.

you nod, grabbing his hand and guiding it to push up the material of your shirt, revealing both of your breasts that sit covered by your bra. with a low groan, he squeezes one softly, still with your fingers over his, and brings the other to his pants to rub himself over the material.

mark grabs your other breast, whispering a quiet ‘wow’ in appreciation. you turn and he leans in, face properly close to yours now that you’re almost sitting yourself up. when his lips meet yours, you whine into his mouth, kissing him feverishly.

so much is happening at once, so many eager touches brushing your skin, so many sounds to listen for.

mark moans into your mouth at your kiss, jeno moans as he palms himself, and hyuck grinds into the couch, moaning into your core, shooting vibrations through you.

when you pull away from mark's soft lips, it’s because hyuck starts to pick up his pace, requiring some of the attention back on him now that he’s paid attention to and noted what you seem to like.

“oh, my god,” you mumble, letting your head fall back as your best friend works his tongue into you. your panting turns into whimpering, hips involuntarily grinding down into his mouth. the sounds get louder as he gets messier, shaking his head, arms holding your thighs down when they threaten to close.

hyuck smirks against you as he senses your desperation, taking one finger and slipping it into you as his mouth focuses on pleasuring your clit.

"how does it feel, baby?" mark whispers into your skin, lips trailing your neck and shoulder.

"so—fuck, hyuck, it feels so good," you moan out, no longer holding back. you're so close, and he knows it, so naturally, he adds another finger.

as you come, sputtering a string of incoherent pleas and praises, mark watches your face, admiring every expression you make. jeno has to stop palming himself at the risk of coming in his pants; instead, he focuses on gripping your breast and waist, squeezing occasionally.

hyuck keeps his pace up until he sees you're coming down, and only then does he slow down with you. when you recover, you're left panting, looking down at him in awe, and he feels his dick twitch. he crawls up to you, a mix of his spit and your release dripping down his mouth and chin, and kisses you. it's lewd, obscene, but you kiss him back hungrily, savoring your taste on his lips.

“not bad, huh?” he mumbles into your kiss.

“not bad at all,” you reply shakily, sitting up all the way. hyuck moves back, wiping his mouth with his thumb.

unable to wait any longer, jeno gets up from the floor, “my turn, doll. ready for round two?” he holds his hand out, which you take, standing up despite the wobbling in your knees.

“can this come off?” he tugs at your shirt. you quickly nod, pulling it over your head with his assistance. his lips find your chest and immediately, he's biting and kissing the part of your boobs that spills from the cups of your bra.

"bend over," he pulls away.

"what?"

"bend over the couch," by your hips, he spins you around, and you kneel on the cushions as instructed, grabbing onto the top and arching your back for him. when his hand comes down to land a slap on your ass, you cry out.

donghyuck, watching with intrigue from beside you, calls out to his friend, "she tastes so good, man," while he brushes your hair behind your ear.

"i'm sure she does," jeno lowers himself so that he's right between your legs. before his mouth even attaches to you, his fingers pull and tug your skin, playing with the way your thighs feel in his grip.

"are you ready, babe?"

"jeno," you start, "why do you always have to warn me before you-aah, shit," in less than a second, he's lapping you up, spitting and sucking at your folds. maybe its because you're still sensitive from your last orgasm, or maybe it’s jeno's eagerness to please you, but you find yourself writhing and squirming with every touch, much more than with donghyuck. and—when his nose bumps you in a particularly delicious way, all the while his tongue is massaging your clit—you whimper, arching even more.

he's moving his head up and down, something like a nod, to provide you with more friction, to taste more of you at once, gripping your skin tightly to hold you still or otherwise guide you where he wants you. it’s sloppy and messy, and you can’t resist moaning out his name.

“jeno, please, please don’t stop,”

you swipe your tongue at your lips to wet them and mark catches it. how could he not? his eyes have been on you all night. he reaches up, prodding at your bottom lip with his thumb. when your eyes meet his, his jaw goes slack and you mirror him, opening your mouth just enough for his digit to slip past your lips.

everything feels so overwhelmingly good in this moment—your lips wrapping around and sucking on mark's finger, hyuck pulling your bra down enough so he can pinch one of your nipples, jeno's tongue pushing into your entrance, two fingers coming up to rub your bud in quick circles—god, you feel like you're on fucking fire. each touch stands out as much as the other, each one makes your head spin and your eyes roll back.

jeno's pace hasn't let up once, and you spare a second to wonder if he's even breathing at this point.

"are you close, baby?" when you nod, mark takes his finger back, "then, say it, baby. tell me how close you are."

"i'm close, i'm so close. i'm-"

and then, it hits you.

you moan loudly, letting your head fall as jeno's fingers speed up. the sensation is almost too much, but when you try to recoil, his large hand that sits on your waist holds you still.

he's groaning into your cunt and it only makes you come harder. your toes are curling at the feeling, eyes squeezing shut. he doesn't stop or slow down like hyuck did; in fact, he keeps going until you're gasping out for air, legs squeezing together in desperation. he drives you until you're so intensely overwhelmed that you're seeing the stars behind your eyelids.

when he finally let's you go, you lean forward and prop yourself against the back of the couch as you catch your breath.

you feel him come up behind you, moving your hair out of the way to blow cool air on your neck, "y/n, that was the hottest thing ever," he mumbles and kisses your shoulder, resting his head on it.

"that was insane," you whisper, lifting your head to look at him. instinctively, he leans it to kiss you, tangling his fingers into the root of your hair. it's short and breathy, and when you pull apart to look for mark, he's no longer sitting on the couch.

your head pans around, "mark-?"

"i'm here, babe," a second after he calls out to you, he jogs over from the kitchen carrying a cold water bottle that he hands you, "drink some water, baby."

you twist the cap off and tilt the bottle back, replenishing your thirst, then handing the bottle to jeno, who chugs some down, also.

"thank you," you sigh out.

"yeah, course,"

jeno finishes the bottle and of course, hyuck instantly complains, "damn, dude, thanks,"

"you're welcome," jeno sighs sarcastically, tossing him the empty container. hyuck throws it right back, and they get distracted by that for a moment.

meanwhile, you turn to mark as he sits on the couch beside you, giving you some time to recover, which you don't bother to take. you're too interested in him, leaning in and pressing your lips to his soft ones hurriedly.

he wastes no time in kissing you back, just as delicately as he did earlier today, and just as passionately as he did last week. you crawl over so that you're closer, sucking on his bottom lip, swiping at it with your tongue.

mark hums into your mouth when your hand lands on his fully hardened bulge, "today's about you, sweet baby," he brushes your hair back, "come on, i want you to sit on my face."

your eyes widen slightly and he laughs, pulling you by the arm as he lies back and guides your hips up to his face.

"fuck, you're so pretty like this," he mumbles, eyes raking up and down your body as you hover above his face. you giggle, reaching behind your back to snap off your bra. as it comes off, you notice him staring, lips parted and teeth pressed tightly together to sound out a hiss.

"c'mere," his arms wrap around your thighs to tug you closer and you lower yourself until his mouth lightly brushes you. a shiver goes down your spine. you're so sensitive right now, on the verge of falling apart, but you need to feel mark's mouth on you.

his tongue licks you once over, then again, lingering for a moment on your clit. he kisses you there a few times, pulling away only to admire how swollen and wet you are from the events of the night.

you're starting to realize how much mark likes taking his time with you, savoring the taste of your lips before and now, relishing in the taste of your pussy. so, you intend to tease him a bit, just because you can.

one of your hands comes up to squeeze your boob, toying with your nipple, the other one running down and through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp.

he hums in appreciation, watching the way you play with yourself and stare down at him, bottom lip between your teeth.

he breathes hot air into your core when he chuckles. then, he lays his tongue flat against your core, guiding you to grind on it. you moan out quietly, practically whimpering as he sets your movements to a pace. the slurping sounds get progressively louder as his brows furrow in concentration.

"do you like that?" his voice is muffled, but you understand him nonetheless.

"yes, baby, right there," you whine, squirming a bit when his tongue moves side to side, a gesture so delectable that you react by tugging on his hair. at the pet name, falling from your lips so sweetly, exclusively for him, mark grunts into your core. he lifts his head off the couch slightly to rock you against him with more ease.

you lose track of jeno and hyuck and you can no longer hear them behind you. the only sounds now are the wet sounds coming from between your legs and the strangled moans coming from your throat.

it’s so intimate and intoxicating, the eye contact he holds with you, determined to catch every hint of desperation on your features. when he pulls away for air and you whine at the loss of contact, making him laugh yet again, "you make such pretty noises for me," one of mark's arms unwraps itself from your thigh, right hand reaching up to cup your breast. "i want you to come on my tongue,"

he attaches himself to you once more and his words send you over the edge, "mark, i'm-" the only reason you don't fall over is because as you reach for something to hold onto, mark takes your hand into his hold, intertwining your fingers. he moans into you, letting his tongue explore in you and against you until your juices are dripping down the sides of his face and his chin.

the pleasure is white hot and so unbelievably intense, melting your thoughts to mush. you’re trembling above him, bottom lip quivering from the waves of ecstasy that hit you full force.

and mark? he’s staring at you, his own hips slightly tilting up as he imagines all the other ways he could make you come. his own release is so close, the black jeans he’s wearing lending him just enough friction to groan in you again. he could come untouched just from the view you’re giving him.

when you finally still your movements, he kisses your bud and you shake a little, "you did so good." his voice is hoarse, lower than usual from the way he just devoured you.

"that was amazing," you whisper weakly, lifting yourself off of him. he pulls you in so that you're lying down, your face is level with his, "please kiss me," you plead innocently.

incapable of denying you anything, especially when you ask so politely, mark pulls you in by your jaw, kissing you softly.

"did you have fun?"

you nod, "yeah, i did. did you?"

"fuck yes. i literally almost came in my pants." he admits. you laugh and nuzzle your face into the material of his hoodie to hide the way your cheeks are turning bright red.

at the sound of feet padding against the floor, the two of you break apart slightly and turn to see jeno coming in from the kitchen, water clutched in his right hand.

"where's donghyuck?" you wonder.

"bathroom," jeno snorts, "said he had to rub one out."

"of course he did," mark sighs.

"yeah, uh, so do i... so," he clears his throat, "i'll be in my room," awkwardly, he walks away, one hand cupped over his crotch as if you and mark didn't know he was obviously turned on.

when jeno disappears behind his door, you turn back around to look at the boy you're laying on top of and- oh shit.

"oh, my god-sorry!" you rush out in a panic, lifting yourself up, "sorry, sorry!"

"no, it's fine, bab- i mean, y/n."

"i-uh, got caught up in the moment." you quickly explain, apologizing again. when you grab your shirt and panties and slip them on, mark turns around to give you privacy.

"no, you're good. it's fine, i got caught up, too, i-"

"mark, you don't have to turn around like you haven't seen me, i just sat on your face."

"right," he spins back around slowly, but not before fixing himself in his pants a bit, "do you," he sighs, calming his heart, "do you want me to get you some of my clothes so you can take a shower? you can sleep over, too, if you want. it's kinda late."

"yeah," you nod, "that'd be great."

"okay, uh, i'll take the couch. let me," his mouth is exceedingly dry, "go get you something to wear."

you finish putting on your shorts, just so you can be decent for now, as mark leaves, somehow more nervously than jeno had just moments ago.

exhausted, for more reasons than one, you lean against the couch, hands covering your face. everything that went down flashes before your eyes as you sigh heavily, busy with your thoughts.

there's simply no way you'll be able to sleep tonight.

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