#got a new bodysuit
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lordacne · 11 months ago
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time to do my make up and take photos of myself in compromising positions
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satans-knitwear · 1 year ago
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So much skin to mark up.
Treat me ~ Tip me ~ More of me
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folkloregirlfriend · 24 days ago
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what if she plays mary's song again
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kingofmyborrowedheart · 6 months ago
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Errands were a success!
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boyapologist · 3 months ago
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MY MANAGER GAVE ME PERMISSION TO ORDER A NEW PAIR OF UNIFORM PANTS!!!!!!
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fatherbrat · 21 days ago
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ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA
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sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.
feat. rintarou suna
cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation
wc. 1.2k
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When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.
sunarin liked your post.
rin ;)
lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p
You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 
Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 
Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 
When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 
sunarin liked your story. 
rin ;)
Voice Message
The voice message is 12 minutes long. 
You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 
You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 
But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 
You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 
The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.
But then you hear a heavy sigh.
“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”
There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 
But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 
“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”
Oh. 
Oh fuck.
“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”
You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 
You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 
“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”
You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 
“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”
This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?
“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”
Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 
“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”
You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 
Or you could let the message keep playing. 
Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 
“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”
Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 
“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.
“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”
You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 
“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.
“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”
Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.
“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”
You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.
Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.
“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 
You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.
“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”
You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.
“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 
That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.
You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 
You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”
He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”
The voice message ends.
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tipsyslay · 2 years ago
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dressed so much like a hooker that my girlfriend literally covered me up before she went into the store because she didn't want people to think she was pimping out a prostitute ❣️
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wtfsteveharrington · 7 months ago
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after midnight pt 2 | carmen berzatto x reader
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summary: you leave a surprise for carmen at work that lets him know he's been caught watching your content & the aftermath that follows. she/her pronouns used!
contents: perv!carmy, mentions of anxiety, mentions of filming sex tapes, dirty talk, fingering, hand job, oral f receiving, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, doesn't pull out (sorry he's possessive idk what to say). he also has this lil god complex over your other subscribers
word count: 4,587k
author notes: i had to cut a lil out bc otherwise this was getting lllooonngg. thank you for all the love on part one & i hope you enjoy this one too!! <33
part one
Carmen wonders what you think of this mysterious new account that keeps donating to you. Sending you small gifts. It's nothing too large - He's not trying to put himself into debt by any means. But it is his way of cosmically balancing the scale of viewing your content without you knowing.
Sometimes he lets his mind wonder and entertains the idea of filming with you. Letting all these losers who sit alone at night watching you get a glimpse of how good he could treat you. Your knees over his shoulders as he folds you in half, harsh and rough strokes pounding in and out of you. Sometimes you get smart with him - It's the nature of the kitchen. He thinks about you in that position whenever you pop off with some snarky remark. Pinned under him, two fingers in your mouth. "Put that pretty mouth to use for me. There you go, Baby." His fingers sliding in further, causing you to gag around them but you reach up to hold his wrist in place to let you know you're good. 
He’d fuck you until you can’t think straight, a moaning mess against his fingers as you’re reduced to coming around his cock with no warning. Orgasm shaking through your body and Carmen would just keep fucking into your sensitive body until he can’t take it anymore.
This becomes his new morning routine. Waking up 20 minutes earlier than he really needs to because he just knows he’ll be hard from dreams of you. It’s a bit of an obsession at this point in all honesty but he can’t help himself. He pictures you laid out against his bed sheets, sleepy and grabbing at any inch of him that you can. You’d just be able to relax and get fucked well to start the morning, he’d do all the work for the two of you. 
Any mental space not occupied by the restaurant is fully dedicated to you. 
———★–————————–
Carmen’s barely awake when he walks into the restaurant. His eyes still feel so heavy and there's a level of exhaustion that he just can't seem to shake in his bones. He's grunting acknowledgment at the team, doing a double take as he catches you grinning wickedly at the board in front of you. There’s a familiar pang of jealousy - What’s got you so entertained this year? He scoffs at his imaginary man he’s made up that’s vying for your attention as he heads into the office to work on this week’s orders. 
Except he’s stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of lingerie he just sent you last week folded neatly in the center of the desk. His heart drops to the bottom pit of his stomach as he steps closer and sees a packing order next to the set - His name and address under the billing information circled in a bright neon pink Sharpie. Carmen knows for a fact that he double, triple checked that this was supposed to be a gift and for his information to be excluded so what the fuck happened? 
He’s throwing his jacket over the desk just in case someone walks in before he can take care of this situation but he’s got to get a handle on you first. He’s embarrassed at getting caught. Imagining you must think the worst of him. Trying to justify it by at least he was sending you stuff, right? Cotton boy shorts he thought you’d look so delicate in and lacy pieces of barely there bodysuits he wanted to rip apart and leave stained with his cum. 
He's storming over to you now, ignoring the way Richie called out his name to join him for a smoke break. You hear him mutter out a "Okay then, Cousin. I'll just go fuck myself." That Carmen doesn't even acknowledge. All his attention fully focused on you. His words are coming off harsh as his body tries to process all the different emotions coursing through his veins.
"We gotta fuckin' talk."
The words hang heavy in the air and you find yourself entertained with how assertive he’s being. 
“Why’s that?” You’re looking up at him doe-eyed and innocent. There’s anxiety practically rolling off of Carmy’s body and you’re gonna get to soothing him in a minute but you’re letting him sweat it out first. You didn’t mind that he saw your videos but you were a little pissed he didn’t bring it up. Half because you could have been putting him knowing to use, half because it did feel a little taboo for your boss to be trying to anonymously send you lingerie. 
“Nah, don’t play that shit right now. You know why.” His voice is harsh but you know he’s not angry with you. You can smell the combination of cigarettes and spearmint gum on his tongue with how close he is. His cologne comes into the mix and it’s heavenly in all honesty. He’s embarrassed for getting caught, worried he’s gonna lose one of his best chefs, and worried he’s upset you. Someone’s yelling that they need Carmen to sign for a delivery and your time with him is coming to an end for now. 
Normally your hand never dips below his shoulders or the top of his chest. Always friendly, light touches. This time your hand comes up to rest flat against his heart and you can feel it quickly beating. “Carmy - Breathe.” Your eyes don’t leave his as your hand slides down his chest, fingers trailing along the soft cotton of his shirt. Stopping only once you can feel the dip of his hip. “We’re okay. Go handle your restaurant, I’ll talk with you tonight.” 
You pat the back of your hand against his hip he’s being called for again, feeling a little dizzy under the intensity of his stare. He’s still nervous, knuckles turning white as he keeps a death grip on the line. “Carmen Berzatto, you’re fine. We’re fine. I promise you, okay?” Finally taking pity on him you give a warm smile, stepping back and breaking eye contact. “Go sign for the clams before we have to change tonight’s special and Sydney kills us.”
———————–★–———
Everyone’s long gone by this point of the night. Tina tried to convince Carmen to go home and get some sleep about twenty minutes ago but he made some excuse about wanting to reorganize the walk-in before tomorrow’s service. Really he’s just counting down the minutes until the two of you are alone. You haven’t been able to talk today - Too many listening ears around for Carmen’s comfort. In your defense, you just minded your business and kept on top of your station. 
But God he can’t stop admiring you from across the room. There’s less shame to it now that you know. Still anxiety, yes. But your comforting earlier has him… Hopeful? Hopeful for what he’s not sure. 
You catch him staring at one point during dinner service, risking a glance around the kitchen and throwing him a wink before turning back to work and deliberately giving him a small shake of your ass. To anyone else it would probably look like you were just swaying mindlessly. Not to Carmen though. You’re teasing him and it’s working.
Tina’s finally shouting out goodbyes and Carmen’s eyes are trained on watching as you walk towards the office. Any pretend task he was doing is quickly forgotten as he intently follows you. He’s played this situation over in his head a dozen times, even burned himself on the cigarette he forgot he was holding earlier.
He finds you standing by the desk, running your fingers along the edge of it and grinning. “What happened to my present, Carmen?” 
“Chucked it in my locker. Couldn’t risk someone findin’ them, you know?” It’s embarrassing enough having to answer to you, he couldn’t imagine trying to explain to the staff (or God forbid his sister) why there’s lingerie with his name on the desk. Carmen’s face is overheated and his heart is pounding. For all the hours he’s spent fantasizing about you, he’s never really considered this conversation until today. Typically he skips right towards fucking you however you’ll let him. But now he’s stuck face to face and trying to figure out how to acknowledge his actions. 
"You know I, uh -..." He's sputtering out, trying to figure out just how to defend himself, "You're very, very pretty if that means anything. Fuckin' gorgeous, honestly."
"Did you get off watching me?"
There's no going back now.
"Yeah, I did."
You're grinning at him now, stepping closer and Carmen swears the temperature in the room just went up by ten degrees. He's got his eyes trained on your face for the second time tonight. Hunting out exactly how you're feeling. What he doesn't expect is to feel a feather light touch along the waistband of his pants, nails scratching along his skin as you slide two fingers under the fabric. "Did you think about fucking me? Or did you think about me getting on my knees for you more?"
Carmy's starting to wonder if this is real. Maybe another daydream? For the time being he decides to stay with it though. Trying with all his might to sound as confident as he's mentally done so many times having this part of conversation with you in his head before. "Fucking you. Always thought how much better I'd feel for you than those little toys you use. Sometimes -" He takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders and trying to build up the confidence to keep this going. He's still not convinced he isn't in some sort of trouble with you. "Sometimes I'd watch you play with your clit. Watch you whine and just knew how badly you needed me to be there."
Your hand slides lower now, fingers pushing through the patch of hair at the base of his cock. Carmen's breathing stops at the touch and you can feel him getting hard under your touch. "Really?" You hum, flattening your hand out and running it down his length. His hips twitch involuntarily as you cup your hand over him, middle finger dragging along his tip. "I've thought about you too, you know? Sometimes you get so fucking pissed off during a rush. I think to myself 'God, he needs to take that anger out' and wonder if fucking me out back would help calm you down. Letting you use me. Sometimes I think you'd walk away after you finish but I know you'd never leave me there all needy and not taken care of, right Carmy?"
He's shaking his head, his heart pounding and he's pretty sure he has never breathed his hard in his life. Labored and uneven while his cock keeps getting hard under your hand. He wants to kiss you, drop to his knees and lick you until you forgive him or decide to take pity and let him fuck you. But instead he settles for showing his need by rocking his hips up against your hand, letting out a broken little groan. "Never would just leave you back there. All I wanna do is - fuck - treat you right. Every night I think about how pretty you must sound begging for me."
You wrap your hand around the base of Carmen's cock, giving him a pleased grin when he fucks himself into your dry fist instantly.
"Do you think you deserve my pussy, Carmy?"
Another jolt of his hips. "No, no I fucking don't."
You lean in, just barely ghosting your lips against his. Carmen has given up all control and allows himself to be fully at your mercy. Your hand pulls back from his cock, sliding out of his pants and he's whining. Shamelessly whining. You're kissing the corner of his mouth, lips traveling down his jaw while you make quick work of unbuttoning your jeans. You grab ahold of his hand, sliding it down the front of your pants and into your underwear. Keeping his hand flat along yours, you use your fingers to navigate his. Rewarding him with a quiet moan right in his ear as the two of you press down against your clit. "I'm so wet for you, Carmy. Been thinking about what you must feel like ever since I caught you watching me." Your hips are rolling down against your hands as you come back up to face him again, bumping your noses together and rewarding him with another moan when Carmen's hand starts to move on its own. Two rough fingers sliding down from your clit to between your folds.
"C'mon, Chef. Want you to fuck me just like you've been dreaming about. Can you be a good boy and do that for me, hmm?"
Something deep in Camren finally snaps and he’s ready to fully earn your praise. One hand comes up to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a deep kiss while the other hand focuses on teasing your clit. His tongue is licking into your mouth at the same time one of his fingers begins to push into you and the combination of sensations is heavenly. You’re moaning into the kiss, both of your hands coming to wrap around his chest so you can begin pressing your fingers into the muscles of his toned back.
He doesn’t let up - Tongue sliding along yours and his fingers messaging the back of your neck while his other hand pulls out of you. You’re whining at the loss as Carmy pulls back, his fingers coming up to lips as he licks you off of them. “Been dreaming about what you taste like.” He looks sinful - Blue eyes staring into your soul as he follows his early fantasy and pops his fingers out of his mouth. Index finger tracing over your bottom lip until you take the hint and let your jaw fall open. Carmen’s fingers slipping in and weighing heavy against your tongue. “Dream about you begging me to come all over this pretty face.”
You start to rub your thighs together as the heat builds in your core, finding yourself getting more desperate as time goes on. Carmen drops to his knees, making quick work of pulling down your jeans and helping you step out of them. He’s making sure you're balanced once again before looking up to realize you’re wearing a pair of the underwear he sent you. Carmy smirks to himself, realizing he’s played right into your little game.
You want to make some cocky remark but suddenly his face is between your thighs and you lose all train of thought. His nose bumps along your covered clit before he licks a strip up the soaked fabric. “Can’t believe how fuckin’ wet you are.” Carmy reaches up to slide the panties down your thighs, taking his time and keeping his eyes looking up at you while he does. You watch as the pair is stuffed into his back pocket and he begins to place open mouth kisses along your inner thigh. Lips exploring closer and closer but always just far enough away from where you need him.
Your hand comes down to lace in his hair, the other one reaching over to try and steady your shaky legs by gripping onto the desk. “Carmy please.” You give his hair a little tug, unsure of his pain tolerance but you’re rewarded with a guttural groan coming from below you.
“Fuck - Pull my hair again.”
So you do, getting a better grip at the base and giving his hair a good pull. You direct his head closer to your center and Carmen lets you until he finds himself buried into your pussy. His tongue lapping over your folds and completing a circuit around your clit before going back down to the base of your hole. He’s moaning your name into you, his hands coming up to grab ahold of your ass. Helping you stay balanced while making sure you can’t get too far away from him.
He’s pretty sure if you say his name again he’s going to come in his pants so he’s putting in as much effort as he can to keep you distracted. Delivered a sharp smack to your ass at the same time he sucks onto your clit. He brings his other hand back between your thighs, tongue still working against your clit while he traces you with his bare fingers. 
There’s a finger being pushed into you and you tug on Carmen’s hair once again as he quickly pushes another in, dragging them both along your walls and all he can think is how good you’re going to feel wrapped around his cock. “S’good, Carmy. So fucking good. Jesus Christ.”
Your thighs are clamping around Carmy's head and both of your hands fly to grab a hold of his hair as you feel your orgasm start to build up in your stomach. “Shit! Carmen please!” He doesn’t let up, sucking at your clit while his fingers continue to curl inside of you. No one has been able to make you finish like this before and you’re a mess of gasps and moans and hips jerking involuntarily. 
It only takes another minute of him stretching you out and licking you up for your orgasm to hit. A mess of curses and cries falling from your lips as the sensation falls over you. Your legs instantly go weak and Carmen’s quick to grab a hold of your hips to keep you upright. 
He’s helping you hop onto the ledge of the desk with a reassuring little “Relax, I got you.” Your thighs are shaking, whole body vibrating and you’re keeping your thighs apart to avoid any pressure on your overstimulated clit. Carmen’s so proud of himself at the sight of you trying to recover. He’s between your knees, pressing down his work pants and his boxers before haphazardly kicking them across the floor. Your eyes drag along his chest, over his tattoos, along the length of him that’s thick and beautiful and ready to be buried inside of you. 
His hands find the bottom hem of your shirt, grabbing ahold and pulling it over your head. Your bra follows suit next. Both of your clothing is covering the floor of the office and you can't help but giggle at the mess made in Carmen's otherwise prestigious space. He's letting out a hum of appreciation at the sight of your breasts. Cupping one in each hand and letting his thumb drag across your nipples. "Fuckin' gorgeous. Been wanting to do this for so long."
There's a mouth wrapped around your nipple now, Carmen making quick work of sucking at it. Flicking his tongue across the hard nub. He pulls back, blowing a stream of cool air against your wet skin before switching to your other breast and repeating the process. You get to sit there and savor the feeling, playing with his hair while Carmen takes his time exploring your breasts. When he thinks you're just blissed out enough, he kisses a path up to leave a small hickey onto your soft skin.
You notice, of course you do.
But you don't complain.
Carmen wonders if you'll let him mark you up before you film anymore content. Wonders how many men will realize they don't stand a chance with you anymore and that you belong to him already.
There's another nip being delivered to the skin of your breasts before he comes back up to give you a warm smile.
Carmen’s leaning in to grab ahold of your jaw, kissing you gently while you reach out to grab ahold of him and get rewarded with a moan. Rubbing your thumb across his tip to collect a bit of moisture and lazily jerk him off.  He’d be fine with this and nothing else for the rest of the night. Getting you off and finishing wherever you ask him to but he knows that won’t be enough for you. For now he enjoys exploring your mouth. Getting to taste you and he wonders if you’re tasting yourself on his tongue. 
You scoot towards the edge of the desk and wrap your free arm around Carmen’s neck. You’re both so hot to the touch. Hearts beating fast, breathing uneven. Needy and unashamed how obsessed with the other you both are. His hands start rubbing up and down your thighs as he gives you a second to recover from your orgasm. He’s got you smiling against his lips as you kiss him, giving a playful nip to his bottom lip. You can’t decide if you want him to use you while you’re still riding the aftershocks or obsessed with how he’s letting you savor the moment. 
Once your thighs stop shaking you wrap them around Carmen’s waist, dragging his body closer to yours. He’s chuckling at you, firm hands sliding down to grab at your hips and your ass, whatever he can get a hold of first. “Wanna watch you put me in. You do so good at fucking yourself in your videos, Baby. Wanna see you tease yourself with me instead of those fucking toys.” 
You drag the tip of him through your folds, teasing the both of you. Carmy’s giving up every ounce of control in this moment, all given to you. “So big. You’re gonna make me feel so good, Chef.” There’s a sound coming from deep in his chest, “Use my name.” Oh. You nod the best you can while being so close to him, giving a chaste kiss to his lips. “I’m so wet for you, Carmy.” 
You’re sliding the length of him between your folds again, tapping his head at your own clit before bringing him to settle right against your hole. Your hand comes around to press on his ass, directing him to push in. It’s hard to tell which sound is coming from who but soon the small office is filled with broken moans as he starts to stretch you out. 
His first stroke is slow, both of you adjusting to the sensation. He’s sinking in inch by inch, thinking of whatever bullshit nonsense he can to keep himself from instantly busting when he’s barely even inside of you. His brain is glitching, trying to hold onto this one time he walked in on Fak taking a bubble bath to keep his orgasm at bay but at the same time you’re moaning his name and playing with the hair on the nape of his neck and his balls feel so heavy and heavenly resting against you as he bottoms out and - 
“Carmen please, please.” Right, focus. 
He’s kissing you once again before rolling his hips. There’s his strong arms wrapping around your torso to keep you in place and you feel so warm and safe and full. You decide maybe Carmy deserves a little more shit soon for not burying himself inside of you the second he found your channel. “Gonna take care of you, Honey. Feel’s so good huh? Been dreaming of you wrapped around my cock and it’s so much better than I could have imagined.”
You nod and feel your body going limp, leaning your head down to rest your forehead on his shoulder while he starts to fuck into you. Each time you press a warm, open mouth kiss to his neck his speed picks up. The lewd slapping sound of his cock sliding into your wet pussy combined with his balls slapping against your ass filling the room. He’s bumping his shoulder up against your head, “Look at me? I wanna see your pretty face.” 
It takes all the strength left in your body to pick your head back up, “So much better than when I do it myself, Carm. Needed you so bad, so fucking bad.” He grunts, rewarding your praise with a sharp jerk of his hips as he brings his hand down to toy with your still sensitive clit. Your head falls back at the sensation so Carmen brings his free hand to grab your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. “Eyes on me.” He wants to make some empty threat that he’ll stop fucking you if you look away again but he can’t even pretend to want to step away from this.
His thumb stays on your clit while we keeps fucking into you at a steady pace. His lips ghosting over yours as you both get closer to falling apart. “You can give me another, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me. You can do that for me, yeah? Wanna be good for me don’t you?” Your nails drag along his back and something about the hiss it draws from his lips and the way his pace sputters at the feeling. 
You’re a blubbering mess in all honesty. Any facade from your videos of being cool and collected is long gone as Carmen chases your orgasm. Just whimpering out his name and pleas to the best of your ability until there’s one fateful stroke combined with your clit being brushed against that has you coming undone. Nails dragging into his back and he keeps your head in place to watch as your orgasm plays over your features. 
Within seconds you feel him start to pull out of you, presumably for his own release. “Please, Carmy. Wanna feel you fill me up.” Remember how Carmen’s become more religious since he started falling for you? In this moment he truly thinks God made you special just for him. 
His lips are crashing into yours, sloppy kisses meant for nothing more than to convey need being shared until you feel his body go stiff. Hips jerking on instinct as he fills you deep with cum. One of the thrusts causes some of the liquid, a combination of the both of you, to push out around the base of his cock and he stores that feeling for later. “Fuck you feel so good like this.” 
Carmen’s sensitive and getting soft but he can’t help a few more thrusts into your sloppy pussy. Savoring the way he’s been able to claim you as his. There’s a stray thought that he really does want to film with you one night, keep the camera steady on your pretty body as he defiled it.
He stays buried in you, not quite ready to pull out. Carmen’s analyzing your features from this close - The curve of your nose, how well your lashes frame your eyes, the sleepy little content smile on your lips. He’s fascinated by you. The feeling is mutual as you trace over his tattoos, rolling your shoulders back to help relax your body. 
The two of you stay like that for a while, both just soaking the other in. You finally look up from his chest to give him a sheepish girl, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. “So - Better than what you imagined?” 
Carmen’s laughing, the sound rumbling through his chest and warming up your heart. He looks lighter than he did when he confronted you this morning, a sparkle in his eye even. “Holy fuck, so much better.” You get another kiss from him after the admission, his hands coming down to grip at your ass. “Let's get you cleaned up and I’m bringing you back to my place for the night, yeah?” 
It’s your turn to grin, nodding enthusiastically and giving his bicep a squeeze. “Yes, Chef.”
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sonarspace · 1 month ago
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UNDERCOVER HEAT (FT. TOJI)
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synopsis. undercover mission, heated brownies, and a halloween party—what could possibly go wrong? wc. 5.4k. content. detective au. aphrodisiac intake. ōral sėx. șex (missionāry, doggy, prone bone). and more i just can't remember lol. an. first time writing a toji fic. i hope it doesn’t disappoint 🙏🏽. very tired so if anything doesn’t make sense just pretend like it does.
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“you look like you just stepped out of a comic book,” toji says, his dark eyes sweeping over your form as you navigate the crowded room.
“you’re one to talk, bruce wayne,” you shoot back, smirking as you elbow him playfully in the ribs. his confident grin widens, but the flirtation is cut short when you remind yourself of the real reason you’re here.
the two of you are on an undercover mission, blending in as partygoers to gather intel on a notorious drug lord rumored to be making a deal tonight. your focus is to blend in, stay low-key, and keep watch for any suspicious activity.
yet, the tension between you feels just as dangerous as the mission.
the crowd is wild, people in masks and costumes dancing under the flashing lights, the music vibrating through your chest. you stick close to toji, keeping an eye on the room while trying not to be distracted by how good he looks in that suit, his tie slightly loosened, the top button of his shirt undone, his tattoo peeking through.
as you both move through the party, a table laden with snacks and drinks catches toji’s eye. he slows, raising an eyebrow as he picks one up, inspecting it with mild curiosity.
“weed brownies,” he says, offering it to you with a teasing smirk. “c’mon, loosen up. we’ve got time.”
you arch an eyebrow. “we’re on duty, toji,” you try to remind him.
“just half,” he urges, nudging it toward you. “it’ll help you relax a bit. you’re too uptight for this.”
with a reluctant chuckle, you accept half, sharing a knowing glance before you both take a bite. the sweet flavor melts on your tongue, and you try to suppress the nagging feeling that you might regret this decision.
he grins, finishing off his half before leading you further into the crowd. at first, you don’t feel any different. you remain sharp, alert, your eyes scanning the room.
as the night wore on, you both felt the effects start to creep in—the heat started to build within you, and every glance at toji made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.
a warm, insistent pulse that’s building deep inside you, spreading through your veins with every beat of the music. you glance at toji, and your breath catches in your throat. he’s closer now, his dark eyes fixed on you with a new intensity. his lips part slightly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, and you can feel the air between you thickening.
“this feels... different,” you murmur, shifting slightly as the heat pools low in your abdomen. the fabric of your bodysuit suddenly feels too tight, too warm.
“yeah,” toji says, voice lower than before, almost rough. his hand brushes against yours, and you flinch, hyper-aware of how close he is. “weed doesn’t feel like this.”
you glance around nervously, suddenly aware of the pounding music, the dancing bodies pressing against you. the lights seem brighter, the air heavier, and when you look down at the table again, your stomach drops.
there, right next to the tray of brownies, is a small sign.
“aphrodisiacs.”
“toji,” you hiss, pulling him closer. “those weren’t weed brownies.”
he reads the sign, then looks back at you, realization dawning. “fuck,” he mutters, running a hand through his dark hair. “you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
the heat is overwhelming now, pooling in your core, making every nerve in your body sing with need. and toji—he’s so close, his body radiating warmth, his woody musk filling your lungs, making it impossible to think straight.
your hand drifts down to his arm, gripping the fabric of his suit as you step closer, your body pressing against his. the desire is overwhelming, and you can’t hold back. you start to move, swaying your hips in time with the music, grinding against him with deliberate movements.
“toji...” you whisper, voice thick with need, “i can’t...”
he groans, his hands finding your waist, fingers digging in as he pulls you against him. “keep it together,” he murmurs, but his grip tightens, drawing you impossibly close. “we can’t let this ruin the mission.”
“i know,” you breathe, the words barely escaping as you press yourself against him, your body instinctively seeking friction. every pulse of the music drives you further into a frenzy, the heat pooling between your thighs, craving more.
“god, you’re driving me insane,” he admits, his voice low and rough, the desire in his gaze igniting something carnal within you. “we can’t—”
his lips ghost over your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “we really shouldn’t…” but his hands are already wandering, sliding over your waist, his touch burning through your bodysuit. instinctively, your hands find his chest, pressing against him as your body moves in sync with the music in the background.
“don’t stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the thrum of the music. your body arches into his, craving more, wanting nothing but to lose yourself in the moment.
his control slips—just for a second. the space between you becomes charged with an undeniable need. toji leans in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth, so close to closing the distance when—
he stiffens.
his eyes snap to something in the crowd, cutting through the haze. your own gaze follows his, heart still pounding in your chest, blinking away the daze of desire when you spot the drug lord making his way toward a back room, a sleek black briefcase in hand.
“shit,” toji curses under his breath, his voice hardening with frustration. his grip on you loosens slightly, his hand sliding down to grab your wrist. “we’ve got to move.”
you blink up at him, still half-lost in the daze of desire, your body protesting as he tugs you away from him. “toji…” you murmur, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as you’re pulled back to reality. the tension between you is still sizzling and stopping feels like torture.
“later,” he growls, though there’s a flicker of frustration in his eyes too. his hand tightens around yours, dragging you through the crowd, weaving between costumed partygoers, until you’re following the drug lord into the darkened hallway.
the sounds of the party fade behind you, replaced by the faint murmur of voices. toji pulls you close, pressing a finger to his lips as you both inch closer to the door. the drug lord is talking to someone inside, their voices low and serious. you strain to listen, trying to make out the conversation, but your mind is still clouded by the way toji's lips felt on your skin, almost kissing you.
a creak in the floor makes your heart skip a beat. the drug lord’s voice halts, and you hear footsteps approaching the door. panic surges through you, your pulse spiking as you realize you’re about to be caught.
but before you can react, toji’s hand is on your face, rough yet urgent as he grabs your chin and turns your head toward him. without warning, he crashes his lips against yours in a desperate, searing kiss, swallowing your gasp of surprise. his lips are warm and soft, a stark contrast to the tension that crackles between you. the world blurs around you, the tension from before exploding as his mouth moves against yours with a ferocity that leaves you breathless.
you can barely think—barely process anything other than the feel of his lips, the way his hands grip you like he can’t let go. his fingers cradle your face, thumb brushing your cheek, grounding you even as the kiss threatens to pull you under. the kiss is both a cover and a release, a way to escape the reality of the mission and the overwhelming need that’s still coursing through your veins. each brush of his mouth against yours sending your senses in overdrive.
the door opens, and the drug lord’s gaze sweeps over you both. for a split second, his eyes linger, suspicion flickering in his expression, but toji doesn’t stop. his body shields yours, pressing you against the wall as his lips move hungrily against yours, keeping up the act—and maybe indulging just a little in what he’s been holding back.
after what feels like an eternity, the drug lord turns away, satisfied that you’re just another pair of partygoers caught up in the chaos of the night. the door clicks shut behind him, and toji finally pulls back, both of you gasping for breath.
his forehead presses against yours, both of you panting, hearts racing. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of the kiss—hanging between you.
“well,” you finally murmur, your voice shaky but playful, “that was one hell of a distraction.”
toji smirks, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth where his kiss smeared your lipstick. “don’t get used to it,” he mutters, though the look in his eyes says otherwise.
just as you catch your breath, the door swings open again. toji’s instinct kicks in, and he pulls you close once more, capturing your lips with his in another kiss. his hands weave through your hair, deepening the kiss, his tongue pushing against yours, and in reflex, your body arches against his.
“nice costume, kitty,” the drug lord’s voice cuts through the air as he walks past, glancing at the two of you. “ah, lovebirds, wrap it before you tap it,” he adds with a smirk before sauntering away. toji pulls back slightly, his grin still lingering on his lips, and you can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all—caught mid-kiss while undercover.
your fingers instinctively brush over the scar on toji’s lip but he halts your wrist with a firm grip, his eyes narrowing slightly. “we should follow him,” he says, his voice strained. a flicker of irritation crosses his face, and you wonder if you’ve crossed a line.
you trail behind the drug lord as he exits the club, your heart racing. he climbs into his sleek car, and just as he drives away, toji pulls you back, shielding you with his body. “the team will follow him. mission’s over.” he says.
he steps away for a moment as he quickly relays the information on his radio, tension radiating from him as he waits for the valet.
you feel a chill in the air and your wrap your arms around yourself. toji returns, draping his jacket over your shoulders without a word. “i’ll drive you back,” he says, and you nod gratefully.
the silence is heavy in the car as he drives. “i’m sorry,” you finally murmur.
��for what?” he glances at you, curiosity sparking in his eyes.
“for not keeping my hands to myself and touching your face.” you fidget, feeling the weight of your actions.
toji exhales slowly. “it’s fine.”
toji’s hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary, the muscles in his jaw flexing. the tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife, the faint hum of the staticy radio doing nothing to ease it.
“i’m not pissed,” he repeats, his voice even, but you can tell he’s holding something back.
“really?” you press, shifting in your seat to look at him. “then why does it feel like you’re pissed?”
he finally exhales, the kind of breath that sounds like he’s been holding it in for far too long. “fine,” he mutters. “maybe i’m pissed because i can’t fuck you the way i want.”
the confession hangs in the air, heavy and raw. your breath catches in your throat, heart racing as your body heats up at the words. “how... how do you want to fuck me?”
toji’s lips twitch into a half-smirk, his eyes still fixed on the road. “we’re not doing this,” he murmurs, but the low rasp in his voice betrays him.
“why not?” you challenge again, leaning closer, your voice barely above a whisper. “we both took that aphrodisiac… you want this just as much as i do.”
your hand drifts over to his thigh, inching higher toward his groin, and his breath hitches. he grabs your wrist before you can go any further, his grip tight but not painful. “don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart.”
but the way his gaze darkens with lust tells you he’s more than ready to finish whatever you’re starting.
toji pulls up in front of your place, the car rumbling softly as it idles. the air between you is still charged, thick with the unspoken tension that's been hanging between you all night. you hesitate for a moment, biting your lip, before glancing at him.
"you want to come inside?" the words slip out before you can stop them, and you can feel your pulse quicken.
he turns to look at you, his gaze heavy-lidded and unreadable. there's a beat of silence, then he shuts off the engine. "are you sure?" his voice is low, almost a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
you nod, swallowing hard as you open the car door and step out, feeling the cool night air on your skin. he follows you, every movement deliberate and controlled, as if he's holding back the flood of want simmering just beneath the surface.
inside, the air feels different—warmer, more intimate. you kick off your shoes, turning to face him, heart racing in your chest.
you turn to him, nerves fluttering as you ask, "want something to drink or—"
before you can even finish, toji's lips crash against yours, cutting off your words. his hands slide over your waist, pulling you closer against him, the intensity of his kiss stealing your breath. the short dress you’re wearing bunching under his grip. there’s a desperation in the way his lips move against yours, like he's making up for all the restraint he had to hold onto earlier. your heart pounds in your chest, and you can feel the heat of his body searing into you as he presses you against the wall.
"just you," he growls against your lips, voice rough, as if he’s been holding it back for too long. "i only want you."
"then take me," you murmur, the words barely a whisper before he’s on his knees in front of you, so sudden it makes your breath hitch.
his hands slide up your stocking-clad legs, fingers gripping the back of your thighs, the warmth of his palms seeping through the thin fabric. “you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he mutters, but the way he looks up at you through his dark lashes nearly makes your knees buckle.
you would've been on the floor, legs in the air, if it weren’t for his hands holding you steady, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. his palms glide higher, slipping beneath the hem of your dress.
“you sure you want this?” he asks, his breath warm against your skin as his lips graze the inside of your thigh. your breath catches, and all you can do is nod, legs trembling from the way his fingers tighten around you like he knows he’s about to make you fall apart.
his lips glide over your thighs, teasing the sensitive skin beneath the sheer fabric of your stockings. he doesn’t pull them off just yet; instead, he removes your heels, leaving your feet bare and vulnerable. taking the opportunity, you press against the tightness in his pants, and the deep groan that escapes him makes you chuckle sweetly.
that sound seems to ignite something in him, and he pushes your dress up higher, giving him an unobstructed view of your lower half. “you’re asking for it,” he growls, his breath hot against your skin as he kisses over the black tights, pressing his lips firmly against you, making you feel every bit of his desire.
you can feel yourself getting wetter with each press of his lips. “toji,” you breathe, your body instinctively arching towards him.
as your fingers reach for your stockings, eager to remove them, toji grabs your wrist, holding your hand firmly at your sides. “not yet,” he murmurs. his lips resume their path along your thighs.
you squirm but he keeps you pinned, his hands anchoring your wrists to the wall. “let me take my time,” he whispers, kissing softly over the fabric, each press of his lips sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
after a moment, he pulls away, standing tall and towering over you. he undoes the button of his pants, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “on your knees, pretty girl,” he commands, his voice low and sultry.
your heart races at the drop in his voice, and you can’t help but comply, sinking to your knees in front of him. “you’ve been teasing me all night,” he says, his tone low and gravelly. “now it’s my turn.” he steps closer.
with one hand, he cups your chin, tilting your head back to meet his intense stare. the other hand rests on his waistband, fingers grazing the fabric teasingly. “you know what i want, don’t you?”
you squirm slightly, pressing your legs together for some friction as you breathe out a soft, “yes.” toji’s smirk widens.
you take a moment to admire him, heart racing as you gaze at his cock, standing tall and proud. it’s a deep shade of crimson, flushed at the tip, glistening slightly with anticipation. the girth of him makes your mouth water, and you can't help but grow wetter at the sight, a rush of heat pooling in your core. the veins running along his shaft pop with every heartbeat, driving you wild.
your fingers wrap around him, feeling the warmth and weight of him in your hand. you start slow, stroking him, taking your time to learn every inch. leaning in, you press a teasing kiss to the tip, swirling your tongue around it, tasting his salty potent arousal.
toji's head falls back with a low groan, and you can’t help but feel a thrill run through you. maybe it’s the aphrodisiacs working, but you’re feeling bold. with a steady breath, you take him deeper, feeling him press against the back of your throat. your nose brushes against the soft, trimmed tufts of hair on his pelvis, and you keep him in your mouth for a few moment, enjoying the warmth and weight of him.
he can feel the way your throat tightens around him, sending waves of pleasure through both of you. toji grips the wall in front of him, his breath hitching as he fights the urge to buck forward. “fuck,” he moans, his hand moving to cradle your face, holding you in place as he pulls out just enough to let you breathe.
“it’s okay,” you whisper, locking your eyes with his. “you can fuck my throat.” a small smile plays on your lips as you watch toji's expression shift.
“you sure?” he asks, his voice full of caution, searching yours for reassurance.
you nod, as you pull him closer. with that, he presses back against your lips, and you take him fully, feeling him slide across your tongue. you grip the back of your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he begins to thrust gently, mindful of your limits. your throat tightens around him, and you can feel tears forming in your waterline as the pleasure builds, each push making your body feel like its on fire.
after a few moments, you pull back, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. he helps you stand, kissing you hard, tasting himself on your tongue. his hands move under your thighs, hoisting you up effortlessly as you both stumble backward, trying to find the way to your bedroom.
“right,” you mumble against his mouth, and he nods, tongues tangling as he blindly navigates, the need to feel your skin against his guiding him.
as toji stumbles into the hallway of your bedroom, he accidentally knocks down a few frames on the wall, and you can’t help but chuckle against his lips. the sound breaks the tension, making him grin against your skin as he slips into the bedroom. he falls forward, both of you bouncing onto the bed.
his smile widens as he moves his lips to your jaw, nipping playfully before gripping your chin and tilting it up, exposing the soft skin beneath. with a teasing kiss, he leaves a mark that only the two of you will know about. he presses more kisses down your throat.
“as much as i like this outfit, kitty,” he whispers against your skin, “i think i’d like what’s underneath even better.”
you bite your lip, glancing up at him with a smirk as you tug the straps over your shoulders. “sure you want to ditch the whole ‘bruce wayne’ persona so soon, toji?” you tease, your eyes sparkling with mischief.
he laughs, grabbing your legs and pulling you down the bed, his hands moving over your body tugging the dress along with your black stockings and pretty black lace arousal coated panties. “you wanna be one of bruce wayne’s one-night stands, kitty?”
“bruce wayne and catwoman don’t have one-night stands,” you say playfully, tilting your head at him. he raises an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “oh? what do they have then?”
“a complicated relationship,” you reply, returning his smile.
“well then, let’s make this complicated,” he says, a wicked glint in his eyes as he leans closer, his breath warm against your skin.
before you can respond, his hands find their way back up your thighs, fingers slipping between your legs. he groans lowly, your arousal coating his fingers like he's dipping them in a jar of honey. “you’re so wet, kitty,” he murmurs, pressing his fingers harder over your core, a teasing pressure that has you trembling.
your legs part on their own, a silent plea for more, and he gives it to you, slipping two fingers and sinking them deep into your warmth. your core eagerly takes him in, slick and pulsating around his fingers as they press in until his knuckles are snug against your clitoral hood.
he curls his fingers inside you, almost touching against that soft spot. “you take me so well,” he groans, watching your body react to every curl, every thrust, a twisted grin tugging at his lips as your wetness coats his hand.
he pulls his fingers out of you slowly, and you can’t help but whine at the sudden emptiness. “need to feel this clenchin around my cock instead,” he murmurs, voice low and rough.
your breath hitches as he stands up, stripping off the rest of his clothes. he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a condom, and you raise an eyebrow, your voice laced with teasing. “communal dick?”
he lets out a mock gasp. “refined dick, actually,” the corners of his mouth twitch upward, “only the finest get the honor.” his grins grows as he steps between your legs again. “and tonight, it's all yours.”
toji tears the condom wrapper open, his eyes never leaving yours. “and just so you know,” he says, rolling it on, “my dick’s very picky about who it gets hard for.” his voice is dripping with that familiar cockiness, making your pulse quicken.
he aligns himself with your entrance, the head of his cock brushing against your soaked folds. “lucky me then,” you whisper, the words barely escaping before he pushes inside, filling you completely in one slow thrust.
toji groans as he sinks into you, feeling the way your walls grip him tightly around him. “fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters, his voice roughened. a moan slips out as he starts to move, slow at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he pulls out and thrusts back in.
“such a perfect fit,” he growls, gripping your hips, his thrusts becoming faster, deeper. each time he pushes inside, it feels like he’s molding your insides to the shape of him.
“harder,” you gasp, wrapping your legs around him, urging him on.
toji grins down at you, his eyes dark. “needy little thing, aren’t you?” he teases, but he doesn’t make you wait, slamming into you with more force. your moans get louder, your body trembling as pleasure builds inside you, and he watches with smugly.
toji can feel the aphrodisiac kicking in, making everything feel more intense. your skin’s on fire, every touch sending you closer to your orgasm. “can feel it working, huh?” he smirks, enjoying the way you squirm under him.
you nod, breathless, biting your lip as you arch your back, wanting more. every nerve in your body is lit up, and the way he moves inside you has you craving him even more.
toji’s grip tightens on your hips, his thrusts becoming more intense, as if he’s riding the same wave of heightened arousal. “you’re so fucking wet for me,” he growls huskily.
his hands find your waist, flipping you effortlessly onto your stomach. you feel the cool sheets against your heated skin. he positions himself behind you, a wicked grin plastered across his face as he takes in the view of you sprawled out beneath him, the way your ass perks up invitingly, the soft flesh just begging to be gripped.
his hands move over your curves, fingers squeezing your ass as if to test the softness beneath his palms. he relishes the way your skin feels, warm and supple, as he kneads it gently. “so perfect,” he growls, unable to resist the urge to give you a playful smack, relishing the sound it makes and the way your body reacts.
you arch your back, pushing your ass further back against him, eager for more of his touch. the little whimper that escapes your lips makes toji’s breath hitch. “more,” you plead softly, and he can’t resist the temptation. he delivers another sharp slap to your ass, the sound echoing in the air as a flush of heat spreads across your cheeks.
he leans forward, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “you just can’t get enough, can you?” toji’s hands glide back over your skin, rubbing over the reddened marks he left behind. he positions himself once more, his hardness pressing between your legs, tantalizingly close to where he was just moments ago.
when he finally pushes in, you glance back over your shoulder, a challenge dancing in your eyes. “i thought you’d be more rough,” you tease, and he chuckles, dropping his head into your back as he presses a kiss there, tugging your hair back gently, pulling you up against his chest. “you make me wanna be soft, take my time,” he murmurs against your ear. his thrusts become hard yet slow, pressing right against that sweet spot deep inside you.
his groans slip into your ear, and you shut your eyes, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, savoring the sensation of him filling you completely.
punctuating his words with a thrust that sends you reeling forward. you’d fall face-first into the mattress if he didn’t have his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you in place.
as he drives into you, he pushes you to lay flat on the bed, his weight pressing over you as he continues to move back and forth. you can feel a trickle of sweat run down your back, his pace unrelenting as he keeps you at the edge.
his hand slips to your front, fingers working over your clit. “i need you to cum for me,” he urges, and the intensity of his words sends a rush of warmth through you. your body responds eagerly, building to that peak he’s coaxing from you. with a particularly hard thrust, you cum around him, crying out his name.
toji pulls out, flipping you onto your back. you grip his shoulders, pulling him down to you as your mouths crash together in a messy kiss. lips sliding together as your tongues tangle, tasting each other with urgency.
you push him onto his back, taking the reins as you ride him. he chuckles softly, his back hitting the mattress. his hands grip your hips, guiding you as you bounce on him, the sensation driving him wild.
the sounds of your mouths meeting are loud and wet. your hands fist into his hair, tugging him closer, deepening the kiss with every desperate press of your lips. he groans against you, the vibrations making your pussy clench, and you can’t help but kiss him harder, eager to feel every bit of him.
toji pulls back, his breath ragged. without breaking eye contact, he starts kissing his way down your body, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses from your lips to your neck, and further down.
as he makes his way to your stomach, he dips lower, inhaling your sweet scent as he reaches your core. he pauses for a moment, relishing the sight of your slick thighs glistening with remnants of your pleasure. he dives in, his tongue flicking out to taste you, and a low groan escapes his lips as he savors the tangy sweetness of your cum.
“fuck, you taste so good,” he hums as he cleans your arousal with his tongue. he licks and sucks, the sound of his mouth working against you filling the room. his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open as he buries himself deeper into your sweetness, not wanting to miss a single drop.
“you’re a fucking masterpiece,” he breathes against your skin, pausing just long enough to give you a wicked grin before diving back in. each flick of his tongue pushing you closer to the edge. his dedication makes your head spin.
each flick of his tongue pushes you closer to the edge, the heat coiling tight in your belly. already sensitive from cumming once before, the familiar pleasure reaches a peak again. your body quivers in response, thighs trembling as you grip the sheets, trying to anchor yourself against the onslaught of sensations.
“toji,” you moan, breathless and desperate, your voice barely above a whisper. he responds with a low growl, his fingers tightening around your thighs as he feasts on you, drinking in every last drop.
that sweet tension snaps as you come undone, your body clenching around nothing, pleasure radiating outwards like ripples on water.
“that’s it, baby,” he murmurs against your core, his voice thick with lust as he licks you through your high, coaxing out the last remnants of your pleasure. the vibrations of his voice only deepen your bliss, drawing another soft whimper from your lips.
he rises from his place between your thighs, his body looming over yours. without a word, he lines himself up, pressing the tip of his cock against your slick entrance.
“ready for more?” he rasps.
you nod eagerly, and he pushes in, filling you completely. the stretch feels heavenly, igniting another wave of heat deep within you.
“that’s it, take it,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly, holding you in place as he drives into you relentlessly. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with your breathless moans and his low growls of satisfaction.
toji’s pace quickens, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, and you can feel him chasing his own release. his breaths turn ragged, every grunt and groan resonating deep within you. “so close,” he hisses, sweat glistening on his skin as he leans down to bury his face in your neck.
he lets out a deep, guttural moan that reverberates through you. soon, he spills inside the condom, his hips stuttering against you as he groans your name. the sensation of him filling the condom mixed with the way his cock twitches against your g-spot sends you spiraling over the edge once more.
but neither of you can stop. there's this unspoken agreement to keep going, diving back into that intoxicating dance. your bodies move together, the bed creaking louder with each thrust, slamming against the wall in a frantic rhythm. every thrust, every moan fills the air, and you lose track of how many times you both cum, riding that blissful high again and again.
the room is heavy with the scent of sweat and sex, and as you finally collapse against each other, a soft laugh escapes your lips.
“think we might need a break,” you say, breathless and a bit giddy.
toji chuckles, his fingers brushing over your skin, “yeah, maybe just a short one.”
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taylorswiftstyle · 3 months ago
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The Eras Tour | Midnights section | Version 5
Zuhair Murad custom
As I’ve noted throughout the tour, one should expect the unexpected when it comes to new costumes. As in, they can happen at any time in any city at any time. Even as we’re approaching the end of the European leg and creeping closer and closer to the bittersweet moment when this tour takes its final bow. 
The moment I saw this bodysuit I just knew it had to be a custom ZM piece. Not just because they’ve been responsible for 3 of the past designs for this costuming portion of the show but because that embellishment work is so distinctively Zuhair Murad. That intricate corsetry work and fringe? It’s so signature to them. The design itself took the atelier "over 120 hours to create", according to Vogue, and features "180 stars [and] 10,500 crystal beads."
Of the five bodysuits we’ve seen I think this one might just be a new favourite. The designer, Zuhair Murad, told Vogue the same thing. "I think this new iteration is our best yet, with symbolism that blends Taylor's inspiration and my love for romanticism perfectly. I've always designed strong silhouettes, and I think that naturally translates well to the stage." The additions of embellishments via the stars and moons feel very appropriate to the era, don’t they? That crescent moon in particular reminds me of her Clio Peppiatt dress she wore on her birthday last year. Murad said that the "vision" for the stars and moons was, unsurprisingly, all Taylor. Though a small part of me also reads the stars across the bust as a little star spangled Americana which feels a little funny given it got its debut in London. #iykyk 
It also got me thinking that one of my favourite parts of the Lover set is how her boots (often strassed in ombre crystals) are also swapped out to coordinate with the bodysuit she’s wearing. With this particular bodysuit, I couldn’t help but imagine what a lighter silver or navy pair would look like for this set. For the Midnights section, Taylor consistently wears a dark pair of ‘Gael’ boots by Christian Louboutin.
Photos by TAS24 via Getty Images
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mindmelter · 6 days ago
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A Body Stealer Tale: A Capture To Remember
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When I arrived in Italy, I found out my camera was broken from the travel. Frustrated, I wandered through Italy until I found a small, dusty shop tucked between old buildings. Inside, an elderly shopkeeper offered me an old camera model, calling it "special." I was desperate, so I bought it, not realizing just how “special” this camera would actually be.
I’d only been in Italy for a day when I spotted him—an absolute Adonis. I was just wandering through the cobbled streets of the old town, camera in hand, getting lost in the architecture and the vibes, taking photos of every old building I saw. Suddenly, there he was: this hot Italian guy walking alone past me. I couldn’t resist. I knew it was a little risky, but I raised my new camera to grab a quick shot of him without him noticing.
I mean, I would never see him again after that, so I should as well capture the moment to remember.
But then, the moment I pressed the shutter, there was a flash of bright light. It wasn’t from my camera. It was like a white ball of light bursting out from the man's back and zipping straight into my camera, vanishing without a trace.
And before I could even gasp, his whole body crumpled like a pile of clothes, totally hollowed out. I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. I mean, there was this whole empty Italian guy lying there on the street—skin, hair, face, everything—but no bones, no organs, nothing inside. Just a bodysuit.
I just stood there, completely dumbfounded, staring at the bodysuit that had been a whole man only seconds before. Luckily, there was no one on the street but me, which honestly was a miracle. My heart was racing, but curiosity got the better of me. I glanced around, making sure I was alone, and slowly crouched down, reaching out to touch the hollowed man's face. It was surreal, it felt smooth, soft, and very real, I mean... it was real. As I caressed his stubble beard and admired his slack empty face, I noticed an opening on his nape. Curious, I pulled his sagging head by the hair and noticed a small opening on his back, it was the exact place where the ball of light had come out of him.
An idea popped into my head—completely insane, but somehow, I knew I had to do it. Before I could second-guess myself, I slipped off my shoes and started undressing right there on the sidewalk. Yeah, risky, but I wasn’t gonna let this opportunity slip away.
One leg at a time, I stepped into the suit's open hole, pulling his muscular calves and thighs over my own legs. The fabric—no, the *skin*—wrapped around me like a second layer. I could feel his muscles molding to my shape as I slid my arms into his and finally tugged his handsome face over mine like a mask.
Then… something amazing happened. I could feel the strength of his body taking over, the weight of his muscles filling me up, the opening in his back closing, and even his face settling into place over mine. I wasn’t just wearing him—I *was* him.
I glanced down and saw those fit pecs, those ripped abs, and a big flaccid cock that now belonged to me. The guy was very hung, I thought.
I couldn't help but give my new cock a few strokes. I chuckled at the thought of someone walking and seeing this stud jerking off naked on the street.
But I wasn't in the mood to spend my new hot body in an Italian jail, so I grabbed the man's jeans from the ground and pulled them back up. His wallet fell out of his pocket, so I grabbed it and looked for his ID.
"Luca Moretti, 23 years old," It said.
Well, I guess that's my new name for now, I thought as I put a shirt on.
I grabbed the camera from the ground and looked at the lens, my eyes squinted as I tried to look inside for any sign of life, "Hello? Do you hear me?" I waited for a response and chuckled at how ridiculous I looked talking to a camera. I was about to put it inside my backpack when I heard a distant voice in my head. It was a male voice, and it was screaming in Italian.
"Che cazzo sta succedendo? Non sento più nulla… posso solo vedere attraverso questa maledetta lente! Ma cosa mi è successo? Sono intrappolato qui dentro? Non può essere vero… Aiuto! Qualcuno mi tiri fuori da qui, vi prego!"
I couldn't understand what he was saying—I don't speak Italian! I gazed into the lens, letting a look of gentle compassion soften my new features.
"I'm sorry man, I can't understand what you're saying. But it looks like that's your new home now. Your body is mine and It's going to be so fun being you, I hope you don't have a girlfriend because I'm really going to put this ass to use. But don't worry though, I will make sure you get some company soon."
I put the camera inside my backpack and casually walked away as if I’d always been him. I’d never felt this confident in my life, and proof of that was the huge bulge I proudly displayed in my jeans. This is going to be one unforgettable trip.
Next time, I won't be taking photos of old buildings, but of hot men whose bodies I want to capture.
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kingofmyborrowedheart · 2 years ago
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I got myself some goodies today!!!
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sophisticatedswifts · 3 months ago
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look at this hazy photo I got of the new Midnights bodysuit
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chukys-mouthguard · 6 months ago
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What if?
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Genre: fluff
Word count: 3,229 words
Featuring: matt rempe x female reader
Warnings: drunk guy being an asshole at the bar, aggressive/protective Matt
Note: okay, this is the first thing I’ve written in years, please be kind 😅 I just got a thing for this man now idk…feel free to send in some requests or let me know if you want more to this story? Not sure if it will be a one off or a little series
“Okay, how do I look?” You walk down the hall of your apartment, stopping to pose for Matt so he can give you his stamp of approval. He eyes you up and down, as if he is going to deliver some harsh critique. Your outfit is nothing crazy; jeans, a gray long sleeved bodysuit, black heeled boots, and a small cross body bag. With the New York City weather still chilly out, you figured it would keep you warm along with the alcohol you’d be consuming.
“Beautiful as always. But let’s try and keep the collecting of guys' phone numbers to a minimum tonight huh?” You laughed as you playfully smacked Matt’s arm. Making your way to the fridge to grab your High Noon you’d started sipping on before getting dressed. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous Matthew Rempe.” He shot you a cocky smirk as he leaned on the kitchen island next to you. “Me? Jealous? Never. Because I’m the one in your apartment and not them.” You rolled your eyes as you swallowed down the last bit of seltzer before unplugging your phone from the charger nearby. “Okay Mr. Chauffeur, let’s hit the road.”
You loved having Matt in NYC playing with the Rangers. The two of you had been best friends since you were teenagers, though you’d lost touch a bit once you moved to New York. Matt’s stint in Hartford allowed the chance to slowly reconnect, but having him now with the Rangers was even better. The two of you often spent nights at each other's apartments, going out to dinner, and of course you attended every home game you could to see Matt play.
You’d always had a soft spot for Matt. Sure he was a bit intimidating being practically 7 feet tall, his knuckles cut up or bruised half the time, and a black eye never seeming to catch you off guard anymore. But you’d gotten close enough to see the side of him most people don’t experience. Though you never imagined your relationship being anything more than what it was. Friends, and nothing more than that. But you couldn’t deny the way you had paid attention to how he’d grown into a man. He had outgrown his awkward phase, and you now looked at him and saw him as handsome, not cute or adorable like he was when you were growing up.
You constantly find yourself thinking, what if you weren’t just imagining things? When he spends the night and walks into your room wearing just a towel after a shower. The way he hugs you and lingers longer than just a friend would. The way he takes care of you when you’re drunk. Or nights like tonight, where he’s willing to stay up late to be your designated driver when he’s got an early morning skate and a big game tomorrow night.
Just one day, one day you’d love to kiss him and see what happens. Or flirt a little extra and see if he takes the bait. But you also don’t want to lose your best friend in the process, or be turned down and embarrassed for thinking he’d ever feel that way about you.
“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Matt asks as he puts a hand on the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, backing out of his parking space. It’s such a cliche action, but boy does he look good doing it, and your heart certainly skipped a beat.
“The typical routine. Start at Tucker���s. Then move on to 1989. Then finish-“ “At Coop’s?” Matt smirked as he looked out at the road. One hand on the wheel with the other resting on his thigh. He was literally in jeans and a hoodie yet somehow he looked just as good as he does in a suit on game day. “Either that means I go out too much, or you’re finally starting to pay attention when I tell you things.” “Definitely not paying attention, it’s you going out too much.” He laughed as you playfully punched his arm, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you were a few minutes away.
“So Cooper’s closes at 2:30, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Especially because someone has a big game tomorrow! And I wanna be well rested. So let’s plan for like 12:30/1? Is that okay?” You looked at Matt a bit apologetic, knowing he’d have to be up early for morning skate. But he was always adamant about driving you, no matter what time it was.
“Of course, you know I’ll be here no matter the time. I’ll plan to be at Coop’s around 12:45. I’ll come in to get you too, it’s gonna be cold and dark out. I don’t want you walking to find me.” You put a hand to his cheek as you make a joking pouty expression. “Aww, such a gentleman Matty.” He smiled at your touch, almost leaning into your hand as he looked back at you, “Anything for you. Now go on, I know the girls are waiting. Text me if you need anything, and I mean anything y/n. I’m not that far of a drive.” You let out a sigh as you undid your seatbelt, “Honestly Matt, nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine.” You blew him an air kiss as you exited the car, heading into the first bar of the night. Matt sat and watched you show your ID to the man at the door, waiting until he saw you get inside safely to drive away.
As promised, Matt arrived at Cooper's around 12:45. He was thankful that you and your friends chose to end your nights at a bar that wasn’t too crazy, but also not too crowded that he might be recognized. Just to be safe he threw on a hat to shield his face as much as he could, though the bar was so dark he doubted anyone would be able to make out his face in the crowd.
He handed his ID to the bouncer before making his way inside. He texted you a simple “I’m here”, you would know his typical meeting place and where to go. You were in the restroom when Matt texted, quickly replying “bathroom, be right out” before you sighed as you stared blankly at the wall. The line in the girls restroom always 100 times longer than it was for the guys.
Matt didn’t mind waiting, he checked some scores on his phone. Assuming that the line was long since girls love to use the buddy system when going to the bathroom. He scanned the crowd and enjoyed people watching, nodding his head and smiling softly as your friends gave him a wave from across the bar. He checked the time again, before glancing over towards the hallway to find you pushing past a crowd of girls to exit the restrooms. He chuckled to himself as he saw the frustration on your face, knowing you probably waited 20 minutes just to pee. He started to walk towards you but fell back as he noticed a guy stop you in your tracks.
“Can I help you?” You looked at the man a bit confused, you’d recognized him from the crowd of people, but hadn’t interacted with him much. He was out with a group of guys for someone’s birthday. You only knew that because they mentioned it to you and your friends at least 30 times. Definitely trying to help the birthday boy get laid. “I noticed you’d left your friends, I thought maybe my shot at getting to buy you a drink was gone.” You chuckled to yourself, why does this have to happen in front of Matthew?
“Oh, yeah, I’m actually on my way out. So, maybe another time. Sorry.” You try to excuse yourself but he moves with you, cutting you off. “Oh come on, one more drink isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Or if you want we could go somewhere else, just the two of us and get a drink.” He had a cocky grin on his face as you looked at him in disgust. He was clearly drunk, and wasn’t keen on taking no for an answer. You looked at Matt standing just a few feet away, a concerned look on his face as he wasn’t sure what was going on.
“Look, I’m not interested, okay?” He scoffed as he seemed to be a bit insulted by your comment. “Not interested, you and your friends were dancing right up against our group all night. I saw the way you were eyeing all of us guys, I’d say you were interested sweet heart.” You gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath as he got closer to you. “Yeah news flash buddy, it’s a small fucking bar. My option was dancing right next to people or on the bar.”
As you tried walking past him to get to Matt, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pull you back, “That sounds hot, can you put on a show just for me?” His hands attempted to grab more than just your wrists but before you could react Matt was already stepping in, pulling the guy away from you and pinning him to the wall by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her like that.”
You were a bit taken aback at the way Matt stepped in. Sure he’d protected you from dumb drunk guys before, but never like this. His jaw clenched as his grip tightened on the collar of the man’s shirt. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it huh? What are you her little brother or something? Ain’t no way you’re banging a bitch like that.” Matt’s grip tightened on his collar as he pushed him harder into the wall, “what did you just call her?!” His voice louder, drawing a bit of attention, thankfully none yet from the bouncer.
“A bitch, and what are you gonna do about it?” The drunk dumbass laughed in Matt’s face and you knew this wouldn’t end well.
Before you could step in, Matt’s fist connected with the guy's jaw, causing him to stumble to the floor. Before pulling himself together and running off to the restroom.
“Fuck!”
Matt shook his hand as he winced, immediately realizing he fucked up but his anger got the best of him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. Thank god no one seemed to really notice the altercation that just took place.
The walk to the car was quiet as Matt was still fuming, you simply climbed into the passenger in silence. He gripped the steering wheel tight with his good hand as he peeled out of the parking lot. You sat next to him, studying his face to see when it might be a good time to say something. Blue and purple started to appear across the knuckles on the hand that threw the punch as he let out a large sigh.
“I’m sorry.”
You let out a soft laugh as you rested a hand on his thigh, softly holding his bruised hand, careful not to hurt him. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong? You stepped in as I would’ve hoped you would the second that guy put his hands on me. Don’t be sorry for that!” He seemed to relax at your touch, so you kept your hand on his, slowly brushing your thumb over his skin to attempt to calm him down.
The rest of the car ride was quiet, the two of you heading back to Matt’s apartment since he had to be up early for practice. You kept your eyes on him, studying the look on his face, wishing you were in his head to know what the heck he was thinking. He took your hand in his as you two walked through the quiet parking garage, then headed up the elevator.
You knew your way around his place, first going to his room to grab an oversized t-shirt to throw on before heading to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Matt was sweet enough to go out and buy you your own toiletries to keep at his place. Including your makeup remover and even your 4 step skincare routine.
Matt came to join you in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He smiled at the sight of you as he leaned against the wall: your hair in a messy bun, his oversized Seattle Thunderbirds t shirt covering you up enough while still giving him a good view of your legs. “What?” You chuckled as you tried not to choke on the tooth paste threatening to fall from your lips. He just shook his head, “Just glad nothing bad happened to you tonight. I’m glad I was there.” He took your hand, his fingers fiddling with yours, “I just kept thinking what if i wasn’t there, I couldn’t handle it if anything would’ve happened.”
You looked at him in the mirror, relief and exhaustion covered his face. “I’m really glad you were there too, but I really hope we don’t end up with a possible scandal on our hands.” You started laughing as you exited the bathroom, Matthew following suit. “New York Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe gets in a bar fight over a girl.” You spoke in a sarcastic newscaster voice as you made your way to the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas to tend to Matt’s fist bearing the proof of his heroic actions at the bar.
Matt chuckled along with you before wincing at the feeling of the cold bag on his hand, “If it happens, so be it, I was ready to knock that son of a bitch out after what he said to you.” You shot him a glare, “Matthew Rempe. Absolutely not, I am not worth you getting in trouble with the team because of a dumb bar fight.” He walked over to you, now the one shooting you a glare. His arms rested on either side of your waist as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Y/n, yes you fucking are.” You shot him a look as he swiftly picked you up and sat you on the island in front of him. A cocky grin coming across his face at how caught off guard you were, gripping his biceps tight as his hands now moved to rest on your thighs. “I’d fight 20 guys at the bar if they put their hands on you and said shit like that guy tonight.” His tone now more serious, his smirk fading as you two stared at one another for what seemed like an hour. The voice in your head screaming at you, this is your what if moment. Take it or leave it, but it may never come again. What if he’s trying to confess his feelings, what if he’s trying to make a move but he’s too scared. What if you just beat him to the punch. What if-
Before your brain could even rationalize a thought or an action, you felt Matt’s lips crash into yours. His hands cupping your face as yours snaked up his neck to grab a handful of his hair. The kiss like fireworks and a weight being lifted off your shoulders all at once. He began to smile into the kiss, before pulling away with a slight laugh.
“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what every girl wants. The guys she’s been dreaming of kissing to pull away laughing!” You rolled your eyes and frowned at him as a look of shock washed over his face. “Been dreaming of kissing huh??? I knew it!” You immediately turned red, covering your face with your hands, though Matt found it extremely cute.
His hands gripping your thighs before lifting you off the counter, “It’s okay, i get it. I’m sure there’s lots of girls out there who dream of kissing me.” “Matt! Shut up!” You laughed as he carried you down the hall into his room, tossing you on the bed while he finally changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt. “Hey, listen…if you’re interested, maybe we could work something out so that you can be the only girl who gets to kiss me from now on. How does that sound?”
You barely heard him, too busy staring as he stood in just his underwear in front of you. Your eyes tracing every detail of him before his laugh interrupted your thoughts. “Damn, one kiss and all of sudden you’re just head over heels huh?” You pull a pillow over your face out of embarrassment as you feel the bed sink beneath his weight. Matthew now hovering above you as he pulls the pillow away from your face.
He brushed some hair from your face as your fingers play with his chain hanging from his neck, “you really want to kiss me and only me from now on?” You blushed as he shook his head laughing at you, “of course you goof! That’s all I’ve wanted for like the last 5 years, probably even longer!” You felt yourself trying to fight a smile, though you were sure your cheeks were bright red, letting Matt know you liked his response.
He laid next to you as you continued to play with his chain, now resting on his chest. His thumb tracing circles on your thigh as you smiled like a dork to yourself, your heart bursting with excitement that all your what ifs had come true.
“So if I agree to this-“ you say up, trying to pull a serious face as you looked down at him. His hands still glued to your thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you now. “Do I get a cute custom Rempe jean jacket or something to wear to your games? Like I wanna be decked out and I want people to know that I'm the only girl you’re kissing from now on.” Matt rolled his eyes and laughed at your change of tone, as you babbled on and on about your ‘conditions’ should you agree to this. But he loved the thought of you in a Rempe jacket at his games, getting to see afterwards and kiss you like crazy after a big win, to have you be his biggest fan cheering him on every night. Even though you already were, now it would be more special.
“Listen.”
Matt cut you off as he pulled you into his lap, his hand pulling your face to his as he kissed you. This time the kiss was soft, as he took his time to really take in the feeling of finally getting to kiss you and be this close to you. “If you be my girlfriend, I’ll get you whatever jacket you want, I’ll get you the best seats at the Garden for my games, you name it. Just make me the happiest guy ever and be my girlfriend!” You laughed at how he begged like a little kid who couldn’t contain their excitement.
“Yes-“ you peppered his face with a hundred kisses, “Matthew Rempe, I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.”
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tubes-and-dice · 3 months ago
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I fucking love the dynamics between the ‘people’ and the ‘avatars’ in NSBU.
G13 is using Usha, because he’s a hacker and a manipulator, and she’s exactly the kind of person who can be easily scammed. Haunting. Spine-chilling. Cool as fuck, truly unbelievable storytelling, and it’s developed so organically!
On the other hand, Vic is mentoring Wendell in a way, and we got to see them really sync up this episode, working together to advance the narrative and protect their people. Wendell totally gets the kind of person that Vic is, and I think that helps him take Vic’s advice as the more experienced person- but also know that he’s not always going to be right.
Paula and Jack are sort of… misaligned. She keeps trying to find guidance from him, but they’re almost too similar? Jack so far that we’ve seen is very hands-off, and doesn’t seem all that worried about Paula- or his own family. Whereas Paula of course cares deeply about Jack’s family already, because she’s much more involved and familial minded than what we’ve seen of Jack.
Liv and Kingskin are, I think, the most compatible duo. Liv has settled nicely into her role in some ways, the control and power it grants her suits her well, and it feels like Kingskin likes her because of that? But at the same time her compassion for others is making such a notable difference in the way that she’s able to interact with people in Kingskin’s circles that it feels like he could learn as much from her as she’s learning from him. They feel like the most balanced pair, with the most mutual respect.
Dang doesn’t match Stocks’ vibe at all. He’s trying to do the cool action movie things, he’s playing into the role really well at times- but who Dang is, really, doesn’t sync up. His morals and priorities are very different from Stocks’- for good and bad alike. There’s very little connection between the two, it feels like- to me it reads as Dang just trying to fill the shoes of this Bond-like character, more than anything. Sometimes he’s really able to pull it off, and sometimes it just… doesn’t work. Stocks isn’t helping him. He’s on his own- which it seems is perhaps a norm for Dang.
Then of course, Russell. Russell and Jennifer are not a team at all- what Russell is learning from this experience, he’s learning from simply being Jennifer, not from communicating with her. He’s a man who we know is used to being attractive, used to being complimented and unused to being told off for the way that he behaves. I love the way that Ally’s taken his character as Jennifer- because he isn’t Jennifer. He’s Russell. He doesn’t want to wear a skin-tight bodysuit, he wants to get a baggy shirt to hide this form that he’s not used to, and work with the new skills that he has.
Idk I just think it’s super super cool that all of the players are working within the mechanic so differently, and I think every single manifestation of this dynamic makes so much sense for the characters that it’s just astounding. This last episode was such a good show of these dynamics and the impact they actually have on the plot.
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markresonates · 1 year ago
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two hot
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summary: for some reason, your body requires more than one alpha to satiate your needs in heat, leading Mark to seek assistance from his best friend when you unexpectedly start going into heat in public.
pairing: alpha bf!Mark x omega!fem reader x alpha!Haechan
other: alphas Jen & Jis lil voy
genre/trope: porn w/ lil plot, tiny fluff bc i'm soft; omegaverse, fake medical conditions as a plot device; (eventual poly, not jealous love tri)
word count: 8.8k
a/n: so here's that markhyuck omega heat sex threesome idea i mentioned a while ago...per usual, it’s longer than i said why am i the way i am so i’m splitting it into 2 pts!
warnings: rough unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), cock warming, manhandling, exhibitionism & extremely public, voyeurism, humiliation, lil dumbification, overstimulation, degradation & praise, spitting, stomach bulge, cum inflation, knotting, oral fixation reader, breeding & creampie kinks; sweet hard dom Mark & hard dom Haechan, super sub reader [ note – heat sex is categorized as dubcon; therefore, read at your own discretion ]
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You thought you had more time. You should have had more time. 
About an hour into your new Introduction to Astronomy lecture, your waning attention span is fully disrupted by a suspicious wetness you feel between your thighs. You uncross your legs and casually glance down, heart dropping when you discover a small pool of glossy slick in the middle of your lecture hall seat, heralding the start of your heat.
it’s official: life fucking hates you. 
Rationally, you’re aware of the fact that you need to formulate a plan but as you shift in your seat, your train of thought is derailed by the sensation sparked between your legs. You clench your jaw and grind your teeth together, forbidding your mouth from vocalizing the shred of gratification you get from squirming in your seat. 
Of all the damn days to pair a bodysuit and a pleated mini skirt, this day has got to be the absolute worst. But of course it had to be warm enough today that you felt comfortable showing more skin. In your mind, it made sense to seize the favorable weather before the last remnants of Summer disappeared into a chilly Autumn, but now you’d rather be bundled in three thick layers and sweating buckets than vulnerable in your current attire.
While you arch your back and discreetly grind against the messy chair, the bodysuit stretches, progressively sliding up your abdomen, and bunching at your waist. The damp material tugs on your hood, a second later, your clit is subjected to rough stimulation directly. Intense tingles ripple through your core from the sensitive spot. Even with your lips pressed together, you can’t suppress the tiny high-pitched squeak in your throat.
Renjun angles his laptop towards you, quickly typing out are you okay? 
You freeze your body. Giving him a terse nod, you rid yourself of the unwanted attention and resume the lewd activity. It takes a mere 30 seconds for your folds to eat up the narrow strips of material that once covered your intimate parts, giving your slick pussy a wedgie. It’s uncomfortably restrictive, and yet, simultaneously a massive turn on. 
You should be more concerned but the torturous pressure feels too good to stop, restraint briefly suspended again in a pleasured daze, chasing the desired pulsating sensation. Your eyes pop out of your head hearing the small metal snap of your bodysuit’s crotch region pop open, exposing your panties underneath and instantly bringing you back to reality. 
Jisung ducks his head near your ear. “Hey, what’s that-?”
“What’s what?” you immediately cut him off, worried he heard the same noise.
He hums, pursing his lips. “What’s that smell?”
“uh, well…” 
You gulp, so mortified that it’s impossible to meet his eyes, embarrassment warming your cheeks, your heat cranking up the bubbling sensation within you.
This shouldn’t be happening. You’ve documented your heat cycle since the day you started taking suppressants years ago. If you left it up to nature, your heat would be a seasonal affair. Now, thanks to the convenience of modern-day medicine, taking one daily pill significantly lowers your heat cycle frequency to biannually.
It’s always been consistent enough that you could pinpoint the exact 48 hour period in which it would start. In fact, a series of predetermined dates are highlighted on your desk calendar for when you’re supposed to be in heat: over four months from now.
Your scent is detectable in two ways: if someone were to press their nose directly to your scent gland, or the significantly more potent way, through the profuse slick secretion omegas produce in heat. 
And given the fact that you’re practically sitting in a puddle of slick at the moment, panic is knocking at your front door with fever. Any alpha in a ten foot radius will soon smell the arousing nectar leaking out of you. 
Fortunately, you’re in the last row of a half empty lecture hall. Rather than a dozen alphas, it’s a handful of the closest ones that’ll be raising their noses to get a whiff of the fragrant aroma floating through the air, two of those alphas being your friends.
Jisung sniffs around curiously, even going so far as to lean forward, over where Jeno is sitting directly in front of you.
“Hmm, it’s, like, sweet and fruity. Do you smell it? Like raspberries…or maybe strawberries?”
Renjun stops typing notes on his laptop. “I don’t smell anything.”
Figures; betas like Renjun don’t detect omega scents until they are at the absolute peak of their heat, and even then it wouldn’t be very strong. 
“Also, for your information, raspberries and strawberries aren’t berries.”
“Wha- Really!?” 
“Yeah. Most fruits that end in ‘berry’ aren’t actually berries, botanically speaking.”
“Um, Renjun?” you try to grab his attention in a hushed voice, failing as a result of Jisung talking over you at the same instant.
Besides your first heat, you’ve always been well prepared. You take preventative measures against potential alphas who may smell you and want to take advantage of a heat-drunk omega. 
Your typical protocol entails remaining holed up in your dark room. The mini fridge by your desk is fully stocked with four days worth of food and beverages, the air conditioner is on full blast, curtains and blinds drawn closed. Your door is secured shut with three bolted locks too.
For your past few heats, Mark has locked himself up with you as well. Being an omega, it was of vital importance to find a trustworthy alpha that wouldn’t savagely take advantage of your heat-induced instinctual nature to follow an alpha’s orders. The whole reason you submit to Mark is because you know he would never take things too far. For your past two heats, Mark was knotting you until his exhaustion proved overwhelming, and he physically couldn’t use his big dick any longer. Basically, your alpha can’t go far enough, for some indiscernible reason.
Based on the increasing amount of slick and the new ache in your core, you’d estimate you have less than an hour before your heat will seriously start affecting your senses. There’s a reason you keep track of your heat cycle, and it’s to avoid horrendous situations like this one. 
You’re struck with uncertainty and a minor sense of helplessness, facing your worst nightmare alone. At the moment, you don’t have Mark by your side, protecting you from other predatory alphas, ensuring you eat and drink something when you’re too out of it to do so yourself; and most importantly, pleasuring you to take away the pain that comes with your extreme heat cramps. 
You need Mark. 
Mouth beginning to water, deep in your filthy thoughts, you don’t register the conversation around you. You imagine him taking care of you in this very lecture hall, bent over the sturdy wooden podium at the front of the class.
You’re preoccupied and perplexed, a fraction of you developing a peculiarly strong craving for a knot – any knot. Considering how fast your heat crept up on you in the first place, you have every reason to believe this craving will continue to intensify. You feel ashamed to admit it, but at this rate, you might just find yourself allowing any alpha to knot you. 
Jisungs face scrunches up in disbelief, hearing another botanical fun fact. “No way. You’re trying to tell me bananas are berries? I don’t believe you.”
Jeno snorts, barely peering over his shoulder to throw his two cents into the hushed conversation. “Why are you arguing with Renjun? When was the last time you ate a fruit?”
“I don’t know. When was the last time you didn’t fall asleep at 6 am?” Jisung grumbles, not-so-quietly as he intended. 
If they weren’t in a classroom setting, Jisung would’ve hidden behind Renjun or grabbed something to shield himself from the other alpha’s wrath. Jeno fully twists his torso around, dawning a toothy grin that spells trouble for the youngest in the near future. He opens his mouth to speak but ultimately falls silent.
The lecture hall’s desks are the type that flip down to hover over half of your lap. With only your right thigh covered, Jeno’s eyes flick down to where you've been looking. 
He zeros in on the source of the fruity scent Jisung was referencing. He drops his smile, licking his lips, dark pupils flashing candy apple red. The other two shift their attention to your lap in quick succession.
Initially, Jisung doesn’t see what they do from his position. His curiosity then leads the naive boy to bend his upper body down and inch forward. Finally granted a vantage point to peer between your legs, his face turns a shade that matches the berries he spoke of a minute ago.  
“Uh, y/n? Are you, um, in-” Jisung stutters, his bright eyes locked between your parted thighs. 
Both alphas stare, mystified by the sight of your drenched panties, the thin white material now see-through and doing nothing to stop you from making a mess in the center of the lecture hall chair. Lifting your head, you see Jeno’s pupils fully dilated, swirling with lust, and you imagine Jisung isn’t too far off, mirroring the older alpha. 
You belatedly try to snap your thighs together but Jisung, of all people, latches onto your inner knee and keeps most of your seeping slit on display for them. His fingers digs into your soft skin in an uncharacteristically possessive manner, while Jeno quietly growls. 
They’re increasingly aroused hearing a spurt of your slick gush from your core, discovering you to be turned on by your own humiliation. You softly whine, embarrassed beyond all possible belief. 
“What happened to decorum, huh?” the beta scolds the younger alphas. 
Jisung snaps out of it and rips his hand away so fast it hits his desk. “Ow!”
“Acting like you just presented and never smelled slick before? Ugh. Get a fucking grip, you guys.” 
Renjun sets his phone on his desk, angling it towards you to show his screen and you tune out the apology from the frazzled boy on your right. “Hey, so I texted Mark. The good news is he’s on his way.” 
You exhale in relief. “Okay. Wait, what’s the bad news?”
Renjun winces, reluctant to kill your newly kindled hope. “Well…he said it’ll probably take him a half hour to get here.”
“A half hour?” 
You snap your tongue, loathing today’s dreaded turn of events. You squeeze your eyes shut to fight off the tears threatening to stain your burning cheeks.
“Oh, hold on.” Renjun scans the new message from your boyfriend, rereading it in his head, triple checking the text before delivering the additional details. “He said he’s…sending someone to get you? And they’ll be here in a dozen minutes or so.”
You furrow your brow, confused. “Who?” 
“Dunno, he didn't say.” Renjun shoots him another text, asking for the identity of this mystery person he’s referring to. 
You stare at his phone intently, beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck and haloing your hairline. Renjun taps the dim screen to keep it from turning off.
As you impatiently wait for an answer, your old nervous habit of picking and biting your nails resurfaces. You peel part of your nail off and fixate on the minor self-inflicted sting for the sake of a distraction from your intimate regions pulsating with arousal, not to mention the graphic, x-rated imagery about how easily you’d bend over for alphas in your vicinity.
Renjun lifts the back of his hand to your feverish forehead, the worry on his face deepening into his soft features. “Don’t take this the wrong way, y/n, but why did you come to class if you were in pre-heat?”
“When I left my apartment this morning, I didn’t fucking feel like I was in pre-heat,” you hiss through clenched teeth. 
You ring your head low and swallow your bad temperament as the harsh tone reaches your ears. You cringe, barely recognizing your own voice.
“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated because I don’t know what’s going on. I shouldn’t take it out on you though.”
“No, it’s fine, I get it. You’re stressed out.” Renjun gives you a sympathetic look, equally as confused by your body as you are. “Well this explains why you wore that today.”
“What do you mean?”
Renjun clicks on the weather app to show you the temperature outside. “Because it’s cold today. But if you were really warm, the temperature outside wouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Ugh, oh my god. You’re right,” you reply, mentally slapping your forehead for not actually checking the forecast for today. Simply put, you believed you knew better, based on how warm your room felt when you got out of bed this morning.
You hold your abdomen and apply minimal pressure there, preparing for the onset of pain when your cramps start up, just like the bad habit responsible for the new drop of blood swelling at the tip of your finger. 
Jisung is quick to dig into his messy backpack and procure a quick fix for any minor injuries. It’s clear that he’s trying to be as helpful as possible, still feeling terribly guilty for holding your thighs open and preventing you from hiding what was visible to him and Jeno through your thin panties. 
You dab the blood with the folded tissue he hands you, and then wrap the blue and green, dinosaur themed band-aid around your finger. “Thank you,” you whisper to Jisung sincerely, touching his arm to express gratitude. 
You don’t blame the guilt-ridden alpha too much. After watching your pussy leak slick through the soaked white material, it was only in his nature to want to breed an omega on the verge of going into heat. The baby alpha Jisung you know and love wouldn’t do that.
Renjun lightly taps the back of your hand when you pick the finger next to the freshly bandaged one. He clasps your hands together, preventing you from doing more damage to that hand, at least. 
You frown at your hypocritical friend who himself hasn’t managed to kick the same bad habit as you. Nonetheless, you appreciate his comforting action. 
“You know, I keep thinking why me? What have I done to deserve this?” You gesture at your thighs with your free hand. “And how am I supposed to last another however many minutes?”
Renjun pauses and sighs. “On second thought, maybe you should go now. It’s way stuffier inside, so it might be a good idea to go splash some water on your face in the bathroom first before whoever Mark sent gets here.”
You hesitate for a second. You're troubled by not only the mess you've made in your seat, but the continual trickle of slick, potentially painting a colorful bullseye on your wet cunt. 
Alphas with practiced, keen olfactory systems can track a scent from a mile away, the express purpose to savagely use the needy omega they find simply because your kind is at its most vulnerable in heat. 
You always knew that omegas drew the short stick in life, but it was only after you had observed Mark’s rut in person that you officially became envious of alphas. An alpha’s number one priority during rut, above food and shelter and anything in between, is to breed omegas. 
They’ll brutally fuck a slick hole for multiple days, repeatedly knotting them until their bun-hungry alpha brain is sure that the omega will deliver them happy, healthy pups. 
Nearly every omega and most alphas take suppressants, making the chances of knocking up an omega less than 0.001% if both partners are medicated. Though, regardless of their incredibly slim chances of conceiving, that does not dissuade a stubborn alpha in rut from attempting to produce offspring. 
During Mark’s last rut, despite the primal need to dominate and fuck your brains out, oddly enough, his stamina weirdly didn’t match yours. 
“Whoever Mark’s sending is supposed to get here any minute, so there’s no real harm in leaving a minute earlier. No one would try anything with you if you’re in a public setting like school,” Renjun assures you and gives your hand one last squeeze. 
“Y/n?” Jisung works up the courage to gently tap your arm like you did his, giving you what remains of the travel size tissue packet that’s been in his backpack for nearly three years. “Don’t worry about the chair. We’ll wipe it off when you leave.”
Jeno guiltily turns around again and apologizes like the younger alpha. He then makes a generous offer to save you the trouble of waiting a second longer to leave for good. 
“I can drive you home now, if you want, y/n. And, you know, if you feel comfortable enough being alone with another alpha…no pressure. It’s just the least I can do.”
“Um, thank you. I think, uh…” 
Fifteen minutes ago, when you had no plan whatsoever and hadn’t been in contact with Mark, you would’ve taken him up on the offer, but Renjun is right. You know that a part of you is really craving a knot. However, you believe you’re lucid enough to handle going to the bathroom by yourself. 
You don’t see yourself jumping at the first opportunity to sit on a throbbing alpha cock, bouncing up and down, pathetically begging them to fill you up with an excessive amount of cum, like you did before. Plus, you don’t want to attract even more unwanted attention if two of you were to stand up and walk out in the middle of the lecture. 
“I think I’m good, Jeno. It’s just around the corner. I’ll be fine.” 
You pick up your bag, tying the varsity jacket that Jeno generously handed to you around your waist. You head for the door, walking at a reasonable speed to not attract more attention than your scent likely has. 
Jeno’s jacket conceals most of the slick running down your inner thighs, and you make a mental note to somehow make it up to him later.
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You have almost reached the bathroom when, out of nowhere, you’re ambushed by an alpha, pressed face first against the brick wall of the science building. 
Whoever it is had the sense to slip his hand in front of your heated forehead to break the blow against the wall and not crack your skull open on impact. Obviously, alphas don’t want a dead omega. 
You can’t breed something that’s not breathing.
That’s basic alpha 101.
Your heart rattles in your ribcage, racing a million miles per hour. You wish you were allotted enough time to wipe up your slick before being attacked. 
If only you had accepted Jeno’s offer to be safely escorted, then you wouldn’t be pinned to a wall, hands held behind your back by an alpha presumably relying purely on an animalistic desire.
To make matters worse, being dominated so aggressively triggers a surge of arousal from within your inner omega, the yearning for sexual fulfillment intensifying at a rate higher than in your lecture. 
On instinct, tremendously touch starved, you grind your hips back, pressing your ass against the half-hard cock hidden in the alpha’s pants. 
He leans closer to your ear, pulling the cherry lollipop out of his mouth to whisper in a deep, gravelly voice, “Did somebody miss me?” 
You whimper, timidly, and he chuckles. 
Something possesses you to tilt your head to the side, submissive and craving a knot so damn badly that you’re willing to bare your vulnerable neck for the alpha. 
He hesitates, before nosing at your scent gland, shakily exhaling through his mouth. Presented with such an alluring opportunity, the alpha almost loses his cool, tempted to accept your invitation and take advantage of your omega’s baseline reflex to submit. 
Practicing a degree of restraint that very, very few alphas in his unique position possess, he instead places a single soft kiss to the spot he knows is reserved for Mark’s teeth.
Mark…
You break out of your innate trance as lips that don’t belong to your alpha are still pressed to your neck, the gravity kicking in about what it means to allow a stranger to bite and claim you. 
You can’t imagine what your life would be like as a double claimed omega, shared by two alphas, belonging to both Mark and the mysterious, possessive person behind you. 
You catch him off guard by ripping away. You whip around, snapping your tongue when you finally discover the identity of your attacker. 
“Argh, what the fuck, Haechan?”
You lean back against the solid wall, holding a hand over your chest as if your heart is on the brink of bursting through the slats of your ribs. 
“Did you have to give me a heart attack? What happened to saying hello, hm?”
He snickers, a melodious, infectious laugh that makes you want to smile as well. This time, with tremendous effort, you hold your ground. 
“What’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” he says, sticking the candy back in his mouth.
You wish you could chase away the butterflies in your stomach that are consistently conjured up when his designated pet name for you rolls off his silver tongue. You’ve seen Haechan flirt with countless girls, yet he’s always reserved “sweetheart” and “sweetie” for his favorite omega. 
You can’t describe why hearing his pet names excites you, inappropriately so. Perhaps, you like feeling special to him in some way, his sugar-coated sweet tooth reserved for you and you only.
Mark knows all of this.
He would have to be both blind and deaf to not see Haechan’s effect on your body and pick up on the sound of your heart racing. His charming best friend is frustratingly swoon worthy, but Mark had never minded it much. A case can be made that Mark is the jealous type. It’s for this very reason you find it so curious that he allows Haechan to get away with openly flirting with his omega.
“Why are you even-?” 
You freeze as he wipes a tear from your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers along the side of your face and down your neck. He wraps his hand behind your neck with his thumb pressing into where your pulse is fluttering rapidly, tucking the lollipop into the side of his cheek to speak.
“Shh, take deep breaths for me, baby. In…out…in…out.” 
The alpha’s instruction marginally calms your nerves, your omega instincts compelling you to follow without question. You are obedient and malleable, most especially in heat, for Haechan and your own alpha, of course.
“Good girl.” His praise has you biting your lip, whining softly. “Renjun probably told you but Mark’s on his way. He sent me to take care of you first.”
“Oh,” you reply, dumbly. 
You should have suspected that Mark would send him to pick you up. It’s obvious in retrospect. He trusts Haechan with his life; by extension, he would have total faith in his best friend to handle you too.
“Yeah, oh,” he mimics with an annoyingly charming curl of his heart shaped lips. 
Haechan basically gets off on annoying people, although his form of teasing you differs from others. Plus, you never fail to give him the reaction he’s searching for, playfully rolling your eyes, quietly snapping your tongue, or throwing some weak comeback in return. 
“Are you disappointed to see me, y/n? I know you're Mark’s princess but you’ll just have to settle for me this time.”
“Wow, how noble of you. My hero,” you reply, sarcastically. “Can we go now?”
“By all means, lead the way, sweetheart.”
Right on queue, you roll your eyes, just like he knew you would. You take a few steps in the direction he gestures to before the first heat cramp punctures your core. Luckily, Haechan catches your body as your knees buckle, doubling over in pain. 
Haechan clears his throat. “Y/n, you should know that Mark didn’t just send me here to pick you up,” he says cryptically, unpocketing his phone. 
He proceeds to play a voicemail Mark left him. You listen with pursed lips, furrowing your brow as you take in your alpha’s words. 
You try to concentrate on the message, partially distracted by Haechan’s scent swirling around you, quickly permeating your skin and thoughts. 
“Hyuck, you’re the only alpha I completely trust to take care of y/n like that…and by that, you know what I mean. And don’t be surprised if she, like, starts to beg for it. She can be realllly needy, trust me.”
There’s a spike in Haechan’s scent, reminded of his personal mission to hear you beg. 
Despite not having kissed him, you can taste him on your lips. His all-encompassing spicy musk intensifies, melting into a subtle syrupy vanilla that clings to your tongue and stirs up a hunger for forbidden fruit. The cherry candy is no match to his natural scent.
“Oh! One more thing. y/n likes it a bit, um, rough when she’s in heat…so just keep that in mind. I’ll be there as soon as possible, dude. 40 minutes tops. Alright, see you then.”
Haechan looks at you, searching for a reaction, but instead, he sees your face contort painfully again. 
“Sweetie, look at me.” 
You turn your head, now within proximity to count all the pretty moles on his sun-kissed face, like sunflower seeds you’re tempted to taste and swallow by the handful until you’re physically ill. 
“Do you want…” 
You straighten your back again, a chill running up your spine as Haechan slowly reaches under your skirt. He drags his hand up the inside of your thigh. The tips of his fingers draw through the many lines of slick dripping down your legs.
“…my help?” he finishes in a tone deeper than you knew he could produce. 
Your cheeks and ears burn with embarrassment, feeling another mini rush of wetness soak the utterly useless material covering your throbbing core. There’s no denying that you’re incredibly aroused by Haechan. He knows you know he can smell the gush of new slick you involuntarily released.
A strong sexual desire pumps through your veins, driving you up the walls. You’ve always been curious about what it would be like to have the alpha ruin you and use your body like a toy, but you’re not certain how much of that can be attributed to being on the verge of heat. For better or for worse, you decide that that’s a problem for future you to determine, and present you to toss out the window. 
Tasting a mere crumb of Haechan’s touch wasn’t enough – you had to swallow him whole, and the only way you could do that is by giving him the pleasure of devouring you first. 
“y-yes, please.” 
Your answer is so faint that if he were any farther away, he wouldn’t have heard it. 
Haechan suppresses a smug smile, pleasantly surprised to get your first “please” this soon after catching up with you. 
“That’s what I thought, sweetheart.”
His skilled fingers touch where you want him most, grazing over your clothed pussy. Anticipating some kind of pleasured noise, he holds your body close and pops the lollipop inside your mouth. 
He scans your surroundings for a place nearby with any additional smidge of privacy. Locating a possible secluded destination, he steers your weak body in the direction of his choice. Haechan snakes a hand up the front of your skirt again, pressing his thick cock against your ass as you stumble forward. 
Imagining how dirty you must look turns you on, the debauchery of grinding on someone in broad daylight while they have your skirt flipped up to rub over your wet panties has your vision blurring momentarily. Modesty is nothing but a vague concept in the far off distance, seconds away from disappearing over the horizon. 
The next thing you know, your body is pressed against a cool hard surface, bleary eyed and craving the kind of high only a mind blowing orgasm can earn. 
You vaguely recognize you’re behind the science building you came out of before Haechan ambushed you, escaping the bright rays of burning sun that were beating down on you by slinking into the secluded shadows with the golden, silky voiced alpha.
Your skirt rides up as he shoves a knee between your legs. He gets a firm grip on your hips as you grind down against his thigh, soaking the material of his skinny jeans, creating a wet spot in the denim with your slick.
“Wow, would you look at that? Baby made a mess all over me already. I bet you wanted that, huh? Rubbing your slick on me so people know you’re fucking two alphas?”
You remove the lollipop to refute his provocative claim. “I-I’m not fucking two alphas.”
“Ha, maybe…not yet, anyways. But you want to. Isn’t that right, y/n?”
Your mouth goes dry, tongue rough, throat scratchy like sandpaper. You part your lips to argue with him but nothing comes out. Instead, you insert the lollipop again, sucking on the shrinking round candy, a poor attempt at covering up your original intention.
“Exactly…now, let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Haechan places your clammy hands on either side of his shoulders to ensure you won’t lose your balance, then he lowers himself to crouch in front of you.
“Hold.” He lifts up your skirt, giving you the bottom hem so he can get down to business.
Haechan’s fingers dig between your clothed folds, feeling your slick leak onto his hand. The thin material pushes into your entrance in an unsatisfying way and you whine. 
He tsks his tongue three times, shaking his head. “Just as I suspected.” 
You don’t need a reminder of how wet you are, and yet Haechan still brings his hand up for you to see the wet webbing clinging to the tips of his spread fingers anyways. A small embarrassed noise escapes your mouth. 
“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, using his thumb to toy with your clit, “you look so adorable when you’re embarrassed. All rosy-cheeked and messy.”
Haechan slides your panties down your legs and you cooperate by stepping out of them, hands still anchored to his shoulders. He brings them to his face and licks off a great majority of the wetness that seeped out of you, peering into your soul as he does so. Your lips form a slight pout, missing his touch.
“Ha, Mark was right. You are a needy omega,” he teases and pockets your panties like a trophy he’ll proudly keep forever. 
“What would Mark say if he saw his precious omega barring her neck for a total stranger?” 
You softly moan a bit louder as he curls his fingers just right. Your knees wobble, struggling to stay upright. 
The image of the alpha ravaging your body while Mark watches the act unfold, makes it difficult to focus on your surroundings, distracting you from the minor degree of shame in your chest. 
You couldn’t care less about your indecent exposure at the moment either – you feel too good to care about anything. 
“H-haechan…I want you…want you so fucking bad,” you breathe out, words slightly slurred with the round candy in your mouth. 
Haechan’s cock twitches, picturing you in tears, your walls struggling to accommodate him. However, he is aware that behind a school building isn’t the most ideal place to take an omega in heat, especially considering the potency of your heavenly scent, steadily increasing. 
Since Mark isn’t here yet, the least he could do is take you inside the building.
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Your slick seeps into the frontside of Haechan’s clothes, clinging to his upper body for dear life as he carries you into an empty classroom. He sets you down on the lab table and observes the damage to his clothes.
“i-i’m sorry about that.” You lean back, peering down at your lap, nervously.
“Oh, baby…c’mere.”
Haechan cups over your knees and tilts forward to kiss your neck, sucking a dark hickey right next to your mating mark from his best friend. 
“I like collecting these little spots from you.” He pries your thighs apart and draws closer to your bare pussy.
“It’s cute that your body can’t help but mark me somehow.” 
He gets on his knees, darts his tongue out to swirl around your clit. His fingers prod your slick core and slide inside you, stroking your sensitive spot skillfully. The breathy noises he’s rewarded with are ones he’ll remember forever. 
It’s astonishing how quickly Haechan figures you out. 
He’s already in tune with your body, keenly aware of what makes you tick, knowing how to make you quiver and arch your back beautifully. 
Not before long, Haechan has you shaking uncontrollably, squeezing your eyes shut, your short stuttered breathing uneven and shallow as your orgasm peaks, and you topple into an abyss of intense pleasure. The lollipop falls out of your open mouth, rolling off the black table.
You might as well be outside, stargazing in the dead of night based on how many constellations and galaxies twinkle and swirl behind your fluttering eyelids. 
Haechan doesn’t let up on his efforts to overload your system with a tingly static sensation. Sobbing pathetically, you try to bat him away with what little strength you have, overstimulated and overcome with the sizzling heat frying your nerve endings. 
He huffs and retracts his hands, wiping his mouth and the mess of dripping juices on your inner thigh. 
“Okay, fine. I won’t touch you anymore!” he tosses his hands up in the air, melodramatic as ever.
“Finally,” you murmur, granted relief to catch your breath for the first time. 
You’re heavily panting, linking your fingers together and resting your hands atop your head to allow better airflow into your oxygen deprived lungs. He steps back and studies you like a unique specimen for medical observation. 
A few quiet moments pass before the dull cramps creep up inside you, not yet terribly painful but aching in a way that guarantees incoming sharp pains. You whimper for stimulation again, sending puppy dog eyes at Haechan. 
“More…please.”
The alpha’s face is painted with mischief, taunting you by reaching for your body then abruptly stepping back to watch you sniffle, and rock back and forth.
Upon noticing your eyes starting to well up with tears, he ultimately gives in. Haechan curls two and then three fingers inside you, opening you up for his throbbing cock. 
As much as he’d love to see you cry, he’s under strict instruction to satisfy and take care of you. He can’t threaten to not relieve the effects of your heat and tease you to the point of genuine distress.
“Aww, don’t cry, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” 
You let out a breathy moan and make grabby motions to the tent in his pants. 
“Hm, does the cry baby want a knot?” You bite your bottom lip, nodding. “Yeah? Can you use your words? Or is there nothing going on up there in that pretty little head of yours?” 
He lightly taps your forehead twice, then slides that hand up to tangle in your hair.
You smile, shy and small,  and, dare he say, adorable. “You- you think I’m pretty?”
One side of the alpha’s mouth curls up, amused that “pretty” was the only word that you clung onto. He rolls his eyes, teasingly. 
“Of course you’re pretty, y/n.” Haechan removes his hand from your hair to take out his thick cock. “And only the prettiest of girls get this.”
With a newly unveiled salivating incentive, you immediately pull yourself together, spine straight as an arrow. 
You stare at his shiny, precum-glossy cock with heart eyes, licking your lips as he gives himself a few jerks and produces more pearly droplets from his slit. He pushes you back against the lab table when you try to get to your feet for a taste.
“You can choke on my cock later, princess. I thought you wanted a knot? Or did you change your mind?”
“No! I-I do want it,” you frantically reply.
“You sure?”
“Yes, I really want it, Haechan, really badly.” He raises an eyebrow, expecting more. “Please…please, knot me. I wanna be filled with your cum. I’m begging you…breed me, Alpha.”
Breed me, Alpha rings in Haechan’s ears like wedding bells signifying the everlasting bond of a committed partnership. Hearing your sweet voice desperately begging for his seed, using the dominant title you only ever use with Mark, your real alpha, gets Haechan rock hard. 
He savors every second he gets to be your alpha. 
Satisfied with your eloquently worded, pitiful plea, he lines himself up. His shiny cockhead glides through your folds before breaching your dripping entrance. 
“That’s what I thought, sweetheart,” the alpha whispers against your scent gland, his mouth sucking it softly.
 You gasp as he drives his hips forward, forcefully pushing against your tiny hole until you’ve accepted his blunt tip, and sucked his fat cock inside. 
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Mark can smell you the second he drives on campus. He rolls his window down to take another alluring whiff, his right hand just barely gripping the bottom of the steering wheel while his left palms the bulge in his snug jeans, tenting obscenely. 
Mind preoccupied, his tunnel vision blinds him from focusing on a single thing besides seeking you out and filling you with loads of cum as soon as possible. He doesn’t recall pulling into the parking lot, getting out of his car, or locking it. All he knows is that, within the blink of an eye, he’s rushed across the campus, his feet landing just outside one of the science labs housed in the same building as your astronomy lecture.
Yanking the door wide open, his wild eyes dart to where his best friend’s knot is locked inside his omega, rubbing your clit so aggressively after your third orgasm that you’re reduced to a twitching mess. 
You don’t immediately recognize Mark’s presence, too lost in the intense buzzing sensation to even register that the alpha barged into the room.
Mark slams the door behind him and purposely leaves the door unlocked like Haechan did. There’s a certain reckless thrill that comes with the possibility of getting caught in a compromising position.
In contrast to the way he raced here, driving haphazardly and disobeying traffic laws, Mark slowly crosses the lab room towards your splayed body in a few, brisk strides. He removes his hard cock from his jeans with a lazy smile, stroking himself and licking his lips as you cry out.
Haechan flicks his chin up at Mark, greeting him happily. He makes a show out of pressing a slick-coated finger against your lips to silence you. 
“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta keep it down. You don’t want everyone next door to hear, right? They’d probably say ‘we should go check on whoever’s crying!’ Only to come in here and find their pretty classmate is a dumb little slut…with a cunt full of cum.” 
You whine, leading him to push two of his dirty fingers into your mouth to shut you up. His smirks as you mindlessly suck on them like a binkie, shutting your eyes and humming pleasantly. 
“She’s so pretty when she cries.”
“I know right?” 
Mark makes a growling noise in the back of his throat as he rubs his hand over where he can see the faint outline of Haechan’s thick knot buried inside you, making your abdomen bulge. Both you and Haechan shutter, feeling a tingly sensation from the pressure your boyfriend applies. 
“So, how’s she been?”
“Well, she-”
“Mar?” you weakly croak around Haechan’s fingers and he removes them.
“I’m here, y/n, I’m right here.” Mark wipes a lone tear of yours away and caresses your warm cheek. “How are you feeling, baby?” 
“I’m…hot.”
“No objection there,” Haechan jokes.
“Why did you send Haechan?” you continue like you didn’t hear the alpha currently plugging you up with cum.
“Oh, y/n. You remember how you were during your last heat.” Mark stops stroking his cock and takes out a tissue to dab away the sheen of sweat on your feverish forehead. 
“Actually, you were probably too far gone, huh?” 
You blink up at him, tilting your head into his hand when he tries to wipe your cheek. If you’re being honest with yourself, you only recall bits and pieces, and none of those memories are exceptionally vivid. 
“I didn’t know it was possible. Like, I looked it up and on average, omegas need to be knotted 5x before their heat breaks. But, y/n, seriously, I lost track of how many times I knotted you and it’s never enough. I couldn’t take care of you throughout all of your heat and it killed me to see you like that and not be able to help you more. You need more than I can give you, princess.” 
He offers you a small genuine smile, his hand trailing down to palm at your exposed breast. Mark gently rolls your nipple between his fingers, hearing you quietly purr. “So Haechan was nice enough to agree to help me help you.”
“But Mark-” 
“It’s for your own good, y/n,” Mark calmly tells you. “And didn’t Haechan make you feel nice?”
“Um, well, I-” 
You gulp, ruminating on how you want to answer, whether you should tell him that another alpha made you feel as amazing as Mark does.  
“Wanna tell me what it’s like to have his knot locked inside that tight little pussy of yours? I know you love being full of my cum. What about his cum? I bet you looove getting fucked full of his cum too, huh?”
“Y-yeah, I love being full of cum…your cum and-and Haechan’s cum.”
Mark smiles at your response and rewards you by pinching your perky nipple. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.”
You whine when Haechan wiggles his mostly deflated cock out of your tight core. “You really weren't lying when you said she gets super wet.”
“Hm, let me feel.” He hums, looking closer and dipping his fingers inside the dripping combination of your fluids. 
Mark widens his nostrils and takes in the aroma of Haechan’s cum mixed in with your juices, his eyes flashing blood red. 
It’s unfamiliar and vaguely off putting to smell his mate has been violated and fucked open by another alpha. Although, overall, the dominant sensation coursing through Mark is arousal, turned on by the thought of sharing your body. 
“Nah, man. It gets worse, you’ll see. Her heat hasn’t even peaked yet.”
Mark addresses Haechan like you aren’t even here. To be fair though, during your heat you’re not all here anyways. 
“W-worse?” you eke.
“By the end of her last heat, she had so much fucking cum in her, I don’t know where it was all going.”
 “Ha, we got ourselves a little cum dumpster here,” Haechan snickers, sliding his fingers inside your cum dribbling cunt again.
With such an overflowing amount of slick and cum, if someone told you that the obscene squelching that fills the room is a soundbite from some high quality pornography, you wouldn’t doubt it. You croon as he curls them up just right, taking a moment to stimulate your most sensitive spot skillfully. 
He retracts them sooner than you’d prefer and brings his fingers to your mouth. “Suck.” 
A fat droplet falls on your bottom lip. 
Mark rubs slow, comforting circles over your abdomen. “Go ahead, baby,” he encourages, leaning down to suckle on your neglected bud. 
Earning Mark’s blessing, you obediently suck your own berry wetness and Haechan’s cum off of the alpha’s fingers.
“God, what a filthy slut,” he says once you’ve fulfilled his wish. “She gives in so easily, she’d do anything to get another load of cum.” 
A weak sound of protest weasels up the back of your throat, disagreeing with the term he used to describe you. You expect Mark to disagree with his best friend’s crude statement, but he shockingly does the opposite.
“Tell me about it, dude. The whole time she’s always begging for a knot and more cum. I know a lot of omegas beg in the middle of their heat…” 
Mark pets your head gently for a second, then snakes his fingers into your hair, giving it a brief yank. 
If you weren’t on the precipice of your heat hitting full force, his sudden action would’ve caused you a decent amount of pain. But by now, your aching body welcomes any form of touch – the rougher the better. The demeaning terms trigger strobing excitement inside you.
“…but with y/n, it’s like where did my sweet omega go? Who’s this needy cumslut?” 
Your bottom lip quivers, internally conflicted by your budding arousal. Mark looks down at you with pity in his eyes.
“Aw, baby,” he coos, “don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying it to be mean, I’m just telling the truth. You don’t know what it’s like trying to take care of you.”
You whine softly, your foggy emotional state making you feel guilty, even if the fraction of you that’s still of sober mind knows that you have nothing to feel guilty for. The seeds of insecurity take root in your head, questioning if he secretly resents being with you, if you’re too much of a burden that he wishes he wasn’t your alpha.
Mark reads the emotional turmoil brewing on your precious face. In an effort to soothe the distress, he quickly leans over to kiss it away. A handful of adoring pecks down your face, lips lightly kissing your forehead twice, the tip of your nose and finally to your lips. He is much gentler now than the hand responsible for the arousing sting to your scalp. Mark tastes the other alpha on your mouth and grins anyway.
“I don’t want you to feel bad about it, y/n.” He again brushes a few stray tears away from where they spill from the corners of your wide, glossy eyes. “I just wanna make sure you’re well taken care of this time.”
“Even without you, I can take care of myself well enough,” you sniffle, lying through your teeth, fooling no one, not even yourself. 
Your hand twitches, wanting to prove a point but hesitating because you're not used to being watched by two sets of eyes. 
“Go ahead and touch yourself, princess. I know you want to,” Mark tells you.
“R-really? Like, um…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “...in front of him too?” 
You sneak a glance at Haechan, who, by the looks of it, is about ready to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole any second now. You vaguely remember wanting him to do so not too long ago in your most fuzzy heated state.
“Yes, in front of me and Haechan.” 
“Aw, sweetheart. I just fucked your pretty cunt and yet you still feel embarrassed?” Haechan pouts in mock sympathy. “That’s adorable.”
Mark exchanges a look with his best friend before turning back to you. “Be a good girl for me and demonstrate how you used to do it before we met. You can do that, right, babe?” 
An adoring smile reaches his lips, eyes locking with yours. You could try to deny the lewd act, but above all else, you want to please your alpha. 
Mark wants you to be a good girl, and that is exactly what you will be. You gulp, releasing a shaky sigh, and nodding timidly. Your mouth twitches up to mirror his sincere smile as best as you can manage.
“That’s my girl,” Mark beams.
Mark knows how to comfort you, pushing two fingers into your mouth to give you something to wrap your lips around. He gently cups the back of your hand and guides it lower while you’re pleasantly suckling.  
You tilt back, propping your upper body up by extending your left hand behind your back. Folding your spread legs up and planting your heals on the edge of the wide black lab table, exposing your throbbing cunt to the alphas. 
You trace your fingers through your folds, rimming your freshly used entrance before sliding two of them inside, moaning around Mark’s fingers as you follow his instructions. 
Muscle memory of touching yourself on a frequent basis over the years takes charge, and within seconds, you locate your weak spot. 
“There you go. Good girl.”
You mewl, your legs trembling every so often as you draw your fingers up to stimulate your clit. The muscles in your face are equally as prone to a visceral jumpy reaction as your lower half is. 
Craving more, you lay your upper body back against the table, and switch hands to curl your left fingers in your abused pussy and rub quick circles over the hood of your clit, stroking up and down to stimulate every nerve around the electrifying spot. 
“M-mar…” you whimper, drool trailing from your stuffed mouth. “Fuck-fuck me. Please, I n-need your cum now.”
Mark bestows a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “How about you show me how bad you want it, eh?”
You hop off the table and lower to your knees obediently, folding your legs underneath you and sitting back on your feet, hands placed flat on your thighs, spine arched to show the round curve of your ass.
Haechan whistles. “You sure did train her well.”
“Nah, man. y/n didn’t need training. She’s just a perfect omega.” Mark smiles, happy to show you off. He pets your head as you start to squirm and quietly whimper. 
“Open your mouth, baby.” 
You part your lips, holding your tongue out to catch the spit that falls from Mark’s mouth. He hums, approvingly, watching you swallow it and open your mouth again. He pauses for a second before flicking his chin at Haechan. 
“You want Haechan’s spit too?”
You glance at Haechan and release an affirmative noise a second later. Your core aches for further rough filling again. You rub your slippery thighs together, feeling more slick gush from your throbbing pussy, increasingly aroused when Haechan steps up to the plate. 
He lets a string of saliva dangle from his tongue, slowly dripping into your mouth, and partially dribbling down your chin intentionally, simply because he wants to make a mess of your pretty face.
You're about to wrap your lips around Mark’s cockhead when all of a sudden, the sharpest pain stabs your abdomen. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, crumpling into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut, and nearly blacking out. 
Mark kneels down and rubs your shoulder, lifting your head to look you square in the face. Worry colors his sharp features and shatters the heated, public pornographic fantasy. 
“Shit. y/n’s cramps usually subside for an hour or so after getting a knot,” he mutters to Haechan. “I didn’t want to do this…but I don’t think we have much of a choice now…”
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[hint for pt 2]
additional warnings: dr jaem thorough exam, double penetration, spitroasting, oral (fem & male), face sitting, throat fucking, choking, somnophilia, squirting, sex toys, nipple play and breast milking. alright, i think that's it.
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it’s 2023.
why did it take me this fucking long to write markhyuck x yn ?? i said i’d write for this pairing in FEB 20 FUCKING 21.
sorry for not posting in forever. the #1 motivation for writers is feedback and interaction. for me, knowing people enjoy my works and appreciate the time i put into something has a huge impact. i'd be really grateful if you shared this by giving it a reblog and would love to see you spam your thoughts/reactions in the tags or comments!
[oct 12th, 2024 update]
pt 2 is about 80% done. now, i'm not saying i WON'T post it in the next week, but comments, reblogs and feedback would definitely inspire me to finish it up soon<3
okay 'tis all. thank you for reading and i hope you (yes, specifically YOU, beloved reader of mine who's reading this RIGHT NOW !) are doing well:))
stream 127's *FACT CHECK*
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➾my masterlist
© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
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