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ellecdc · 2 months ago

Note

I will bite (lol mating bite)

Remus with a best friend!reader who thinks her feelings for him are unrequited

his alpha presentation clicks in when she first presents as an omega - he immediately realizes they’re mates and is delighted, she doesn’t know he likes her and is freaking out that he’s going to feel trapped

🫣.......... okay twist my arm why don't you ;) jk - this theme/trope has been a bit of a brainworm/hyperfixation for me for a few weeks so thank you for indulging me, and sorry to my readers who this might not be their taste! but I definitely had fun with it so you may have to brace yourselves for more of it from me lol

Remus Lupin x best friend!reader who presents as an omega [3.5k words]

p1 // p2

CW: fem!reader, a/b/o dynamics and omegaverse, very soft a/b/o descriptions, SFW [nothing explicit or sexual in this fic], first a/b/o fic I've written so I'm truly just dipping my toes in lol, feelings of unrequited love [but its actually requited]

Loving Remus came as naturally as breathing to you; every inhale was the sweet smell of chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books, and every exhale was a quiet whisper of “I love you” that you prayed to every deity he couldn’t hear.

Loving Remus was natural, but it was also harrowing; no one chooses to experience unrequited love, it’s simply one of those things that happens upon you.

But no matter how painful the fact that your feelings weren’t reciprocated was, the wholehearted comfort that being around Remus brought you was almost worth the heartache.

There was something in your soul that relaxed the second Remus was near; your entire being unclenched, knowing you were somehow safer, somehow more sound now that he was here.

And you hoped that, if nothing else, you provided the same for him.

The two of you had been friends for years; becoming fast friends in first year over your shared love of muggle literature and the fact that the two of you were a touch more shy than your respective peers.

The friendship never dimmed over time - if anything, it only became stronger with every passing year. No matter how mischievous his new friends were or how much trouble he got into with them around, no matter how many school yard crushes left either of you melancholy, no matter how many failed papers or late night study sessions that turned into heated spats because the two of you were far too overtired to handle anything maturely, and no matter how the moons came and went that effectively waxed and waned the Remus you knew in much the same way, the friendship had weathered it all.

It was one of your greatest possessions - this friendship you shared with Remus - and one of your proudest accomplishments.

And you weren’t going to let a silly crush (or, in your case, your gut-wrenching and undying devotion) ruin it.

Which is how you found yourself walking up the steps to James and Lily’s flat for your surprise party, preparing yourself to be surprised because Sirius insisted they throw you one but Remus knew you hated surprises and had warned you about it prior to your arrival.

You were admittedly not feeling up to a party - the telltale tickle in your throat warning you of an impending cold - though you were sure you wouldn’t have felt quite up to a party whether you were poorly or not. Parties were never quite your thing; you loved your friends, and you loved spending time with them, but that many of them in one place at one time and all for you felt a little bit like torture.

But you knocked on the door which was flung open before your hand even made its second knock and there was a sea of people cheering “happy birthday!” but your eyes - of course - found Remus first, and suddenly, you didn’t think this was torture. Suddenly this was heaven.

“Wha- you guys!” You started, smiling as James gave you a bone crushing hug, eyes never leaving Remus’.

“Surprise!” Lily giggled as she elbowed James out of the way to give you her own hug. “Were you surprised?”

“What do you mean ‘were you surprised’? I still am!” You agreed quickly, embracing Sirius who was next in line.

“Moony told you, didn’t he?” He murmured quietly into your hair, causing you to snort.

“Am I that bad an actor?” You asked him quietly, causing him to chuckle as he rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“No,” He answered quickly, “but he is just that soft on you.”

You hardly had a moment to consider what Sirius had said when Marlene was yanking you from his grasp to pepper your face in kisses as he shook his head over at his friend and started giving him shit for ruining the surprise.

After greeting every guest in attendance, you finally made it to Remus who wasted no time in pulling you into his chest.

“Happy birthday, dove.” He murmured into your hair; and you had sort of wished that the only plan you had for the rest of the night was to stay within his warm embrace.

“Sorry for getting you into trouble with Sirius.” You murmured back into his chest, delighting in the rumble of his laugh you elicited.

“Worth it; couldn’t handle you being miffed with me all night for not warning you.”

You - regretfully - pulled away to shoot him a bemused expression. “I could never spend an entire night miffed with you, Moons.”

Remus hummed noncommittally as he scanned your face. “Any amount of time would have been too much for me- hey, are you feeling okay?”

His face took on a concerned form that you found him too pretty to wear, and you suddenly felt bone-deep distress at having caused it.

“Why? I’m fine; do I not look fine?” You asked worriedly, bringing a hand up to your own face which was perhaps warm, but you weren’t feeling clammy.

The corner of his mouth twitched, though the furrow between his brows was ever present. “You look perfect, as usual, just… are you feeling alright?”

You let out a sigh, looking anywhere but his piercing gaze. “I think I’ve got a cold coming on, I’ll be alright though.”

His mouth pinched worriedly as he ducked trying to get you to make eye contact with him. “We don’t have to stay long then, yeah?”

You snorted as you gave him an unimpressed look. “We don’t have to stay long at the party for me that was thrown in part by you?”

“Right.” He agreed readily.

“I’ll be fine, Rem.” You assured him, patting his hand placatingly. “It’s my party, I can sniffle if I want to.”

And though he didn’t seem particularly convinced, he let you go when Sirius and Marlene announced that it was time to dance.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You were taking a breather in the small kitchen of James and Lily’s flat when you started to feel slightly worse.

The tickle in your throat had officially turned into an ache in your chest, and your head was pounding - be that from the music, the dancing, the drinks, or whatever flu you were coming down with, you couldn’t be certain.

But you found yourself feeling better as you let your head fall back against the cool wall; your hair falling away from your neck and allowing the air circulating the room to hit your overly hot neck and chest.

Maybe you should try to leave early?

“I’ll check.” You heard Remus announce; your face breaking out into a grin on its own accord as he came around the corner.

“Y/N.” He breathed out. “Are you alright?” He asked, standing in front of you with that damned furrow in his brow again.

“I’m alright.” Now, was left unsaid, but something in the tilting of his head alerted you to the fact that he heard it anyway.

“What’s gotten into you, hm?” He asked slowly; words stilted as his eyes darted across your face, mostly speaking to himself as he searched your form for answers.

“Did you find her?” James called out, causing Remus’ neck to crane as he peered around the door frame; and that’s when it hit you.

Chocolate, warm sweaters, and worn books.

Remus.

His scent.

Your head fell forward as you took a deeper breath, and the remnants of whatever cold you were catching dissipated.

And the whole evening clicked into place; the discomfort, his incessant worry and focus on you, you felt better for a moment because he was near - not because you took a moment to breathe, he could tell you were…

Oh god.

“Y/N.” He said again, alerting you to the fact that he was now standing rigidly still and staring at you imploringly. “What-”

“This can’t be happening…” You whispered, eyes glued to the point just under Remus’ jaw that was so disturbingly close yet somehow not nearly close enough.

“Are- are you…” Remus started, his gaze settling somewhere near your shoulder as he leaned closer to you and took a deep breath through his nose.

As if you scalded him, he went flying backwards from your being - his back making contact with the fridge so violently that it sent magnets flying.

Fuck, fuck! Fuck, he was going to hate you, now, surely? He hated you.

He hated you because he wanted you, but he only wanted you because you were fucking presenting - why? Why now? Why today? Why to him?

He’s never wanted you before; and now he would only want you because he was - what was very clear now - an Alpha and you were, apparently, an Omega.

Fuck.

“Fuck.” You hissed as you pushed the heels of your palms into your eyes until you could see stars.

“Dove-”

“No!” You shouted, pulling your hands away to see him having frozen in reaching out to you, now lifting his hands as if fending off a wild animal.

“Fuck, I need air.” You blurted, and you took off out the front door.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The evening air did little to quell your nerves and nausea over the events of the night.

To present, tonight out of all nights, in a tiny flat with nowhere to run without causing a scene.

Not to mention the precariousness of your relationship with Remus that you valued over everything was now hanging by a thread.

“You couldn’t have found us a more comfortable place to sit, gorgeous?” You heard Sirius drawl as he (loudly) took a seat on the curb beside you.

“I’m terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you so, Sirius.” You responded dryly.

“You ought to be.” He continued. “This is not how I wanted to spend your birthday party.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You scoffed, elbowing him in the side causing him to sway as if you’d put any real force behind it.

“If you fuck on, you get better results.”

You snorted. “Yeah, and if you fuck around you’ll find out.”

“Mmm, saucy, I like where this is going.”

“Padfoot.” You begged miserably, and he let out a relenting sigh before he pulled you roughly into his side, leaving his arm draped over you as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sitting on a curb outside.” You answered, earning you a pinch in the side.

“I can see that; I mean, what are you doing out here by yourself? Why aren’t you inside with your man?”

“Stop it, Sirius.” You spat, hastily sitting up and wiping angrily at your face.

“Merlin, you both really are that thick, aren’t you?” He muttered, searching your face like it would somehow answer his question.

“If you’re out here to make fun of me, you can go back inside. I’m humiliated enough.”

Sirius shook his head sadly. “I don’t understand why the two of you are making this harder than it needs to be; you’re both clearly mad for each other, you’re out here feeling sorry for yourself because you think he doesn’t want you, he’s in there feeling sorry for himself because he doesn’t think you want him.”

“He doesn’t want me, Sirius. We’ve always only been friends.”

“But you want him?” He asked then, causing you to put your head in your hands.

“Sirius, please, don’t-”

“Do you want him?” He asked again, more forceful this time. “Simple question, Y/N, yes or no.”

“Yes!” You let out with a sob. “Yes! I’ve always wanted him! I’ve- fuck, I’ve been mad about him for years and… yes. Yes, I want him.” The end of your sentence trailing off as you picked angrily at your nail beds.

Sirius seemed to steal himself for a moment, nodding his head as he sucked in a breath.

“I started calling him Moony before I ever knew of his lycanthropy.” He admitted then; and though you weren’t looking in his direction, you could feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head.

Sirius let that sit in the air before he got up and stood in front of you, forcing you to look up at him.

“I called him that because of the way he was always mooning after you.”

“Then why’d he freak? Why’d he rip away from me like that?” You asked - voice disturbingly small as you looked up at one of your oldest friends.

“Why’d you run?”

You let out a sigh and looked at the streetlights across the street instead of admitting “because I’m a coward”.

“I can’t lose him, Pads. I-” Stopping as a painful shiver shook your frame - the cold taking over again now that you had some distance from your…

From Remus.

But Sirius didn’t rush you, he just continued standing in front of you as you struggled to find the words.

“I can’t lose him.” You settled on.

“Then don’t.” He said, toeing your shoe with his.

“It’s not that simple.” You argued.

“It can be.” A voice sounded from behind you but a moment before you smelled him.

And though the rational part of your brain wanted to brace yourself, the rest of your body immediately softened in his presence.

“Well I’m going to go back in and enjoy the kick ass party I threw, so, if the two of you don’t mind…” Sirius said haughtily, shooting you a wink so that you knew it was all in jest and clapping Remus on the back before disappearing back into the building.

You listened as Remus lowered himself onto the curb beside you; guilt flooding through you at the way his joints cracked audibly and at the fact that he seemed to be leaving quite a bit of distance between the two of you that he wouldn’t have even just a few hours ago.

“Are you okay?” He started, and you fought the urge to scoff.

No, you thought petulantly, not only do I feel like shit, I’m also at risk of losing the thing that means the most to me.

“I’m fine.” You responded shortly, fixated on the skin surrounding your fingernails as you refused to look in his direction. “You alright?”

“No.” Remus answered quickly, and you did look up at that.

He was staring at you imploringly, his brows furrowed both with sympathy and perhaps a little bit of frustration.

“Why’d you run?” He asked then.

“I-” you started, though you weren’t exactly sure anymore. “You…you seemed so startled, I… I thought you were upset.”

He seemed to pause as he considered your response; this sort of caution not usual for the two of you this far into your friendship.

“I had just found out that the girl of my dreams was an Omega, and when she was clearly distraught, I was caught leaning in to get a better sniff.” He deadpanned, shaking his head at himself as he looked out across the street. “I startled because I was certain I was going to startle you.”

“I- you’re not? Startled, that is.”

His brows furrowed slightly as he shook his head, turning back to look at you. “Why would I be?”

“But…we’ve never been…more than friends; I didn’t want that to change now, just because you felt it had to.”

“It doesn’t have to.” He responded simply, and for reasons you weren’t willing to think on right now, that sentiment caused something very unpleasant to churn in your gut.

“Nothing would have to change; you could still be you and I could just be me, and that would be fine. Is that what you want?”

He held your gaze defiantly as you gaped at him. “I- but,”

“Is that what you want, dove?” He asked again, a slight force in his tone this time as he turned his body towards yours and his eyes flit down to your lips. “Because it is taking everything in my power not to claim you as my own right here, right now. I have wanted this for so long; so I ask you again, is that what you want? For nothing to change?”

“No.” You blurted quickly.

“No?”

“No.” You whispered, shaking your head as you turned your body to face him too. “No, no. I want you, I need you-”

“Now? You want and need me now, or-”

“Fuck, I’ve wanted you since fourth year, Remus. Since I figured out why I hated Emmeline Vance so much.” You practically sobbed.

“Why?” He asked softly, looking like his lip wanted to tip up into a smile though he was dutiful of your current upset. “Because she fancied me?”

“Because you fancied her.” You corrected miserably. Remus finally brought his hand up to cup your cheek at that, and you hardly had a moment to feel embarrassed at the way you quickly turned your head into his wrist so you could get a better smell of him.

“My poor, sweet girl.” He cooed softly, a sympathetic sound emanating from the back of his throat at the sound that his phrase elicited from you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Please.” You whispered, no longer trying to withhold the desperation from your voice as you kept your nose pressed to the inside of his wrist and your eyes screwed shut.

“Okay.” He whispered back, even though he had no idea what you were begging him for - you supposed it didn’t matter; he didn’t seem particularly inclined to deny you anything you wanted right now.

“Rem-”

“I know.”

“Please.”

“I’m right here, dove.” He whispered, pulling you towards him by your hand as you followed all too willingly. “I’m right here.” He whispered again, nose brushing yours before you closed the distance between the two of you.

The sound of the traffic faded away, as did the tarmac beneath you and the air around you; you seemed to be floating in a vast expanse that contained nothing but you and Remus.

You took a moment to mentally kick yourself as you deepened the kiss - nipping at his lower lip and causing him to smile before granting you access - that you could have been, should have been, doing this for years.

“Ugh, fuck.” Remus muttered as he broke the kiss and rested his head against yours, seeming truly distraught at having to interrupt.

You didn’t even have a chance to ask what was wrong before you heard cheering from above you.

“Fucking finally!” James shouted as he pulled the tab of a party popper, showering the street below his balcony with multicoloured confetti.

“Pay up bitches; I told you this was the year.” Lily continued, holding her hand out expectantly as Marlene begrudgingly placed a few galleons into her friend's hand.

“Oi!” Remus shouted at the group, a protective arm snaking around your middle as he held you closer to him as if he was worried you’d simply float away, “You better pay Pads his fair share then!”

You snorted and shoved your face into Remus’ neck - hiding your face as a ploy to get closer to him without it being nearly close enough.

Remus chuckled as your friends filed back into the apartment and the world returned to its normal volume, bringing his free hand up to knead at your scalp in a way that made you want to purr like a sodding cat.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, looking down at you with an expression nothing short of worship.

“You okay?” You asked then, bringing one hand up to draw a line down the bridge of his nose, simply because you could now.

“I’m perfect, you’re perfect.” Remus pressed, punctuating the sentiment with a kiss before he pressed his nose against the spot on your neck just past your jaw.

You instinctually let your head fall back; his hand tightening in your hair as he let out a sound halfway between a laugh and growl.

“Don’t sodding do that.” He scolded you playfully.

“What?” You asked - half innocently half abashedly.

“Submit to me, you minx.” He explained, booping you on the nose for extra effect. “Let me at least take you out on a date, first.”

A date, you echoed in your head; you had spent a lot of time daydreaming as a girl about what your first date with Remus would look like. You’d always imagined spending the day in Hogsmeade buying sweets and gobstones and books and quills before heading back up to the castle.

This was turning out way better already, though.

“So long as I don’t have to share you with James.” You joked, peering over Remus’ shoulder where you could see James peeking through the curtains before a flash of a camera went off.

“Hm…I’m not sure I can promise that for the first date, but definitely for the second.”

“Deal.” You agreed readily, because really, you’d have Remus just about anyway you could have him.

And you were simply overjoyed to know that he apparently felt the same.

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dragondawdles · 11 months ago

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ok so I feel like I should preemptively apologize because I'm not sure what you had in mind when you expressed interest in seeing/hearing ideas from me on this but it probably wasn't me just taking that and running and ending up with my own draconified rough designs (+notes) for the three of them but uh! I may be a little silly

hi sending this ask as a free pass to draw as many dragons as you want forever

BUT if you want a specific direction may I propose lizzie joel and/or jimmy? :0c

Omg thanks for the free pass, so generous!!

And sure!! I havent had too many amazing ideas for Jim or Joel... other than canary characteristics for Jimmy, obvs, and something swampy and threatening for Joel (because he is a goddamn menace). I imagine Lizzie as some water blorbo because of the sailor skin and her whole thing in Empires that I have only approximate knowledge of. And thats all I got! If you've any ideas I'm very excited to hear/see them 👁

#reblog #dragon doodles #dragon rambles #jimmy solidarity #lizzie ldshadowlady #joel smallishbeans #life series smp #mcyt #draconification #<-(for self-organization)#have no clue how this comes across tone is hard. hope I am ok reblogging with my designs I operate under the two cakes theorum at all times #but you turning the mic back to ME specifically inspired this so I thought I'd share! gave me many thoughts and directed the brainworms #(if it's cool with you actually I may circle back to these and polish and color em at some point? do some concurrent draconifications #but no worries whichever way! ^^)#OH and if my handwritten notes are illegible I put them in the alt text. I really didn't feel like thinking about the csp text tool #but beyond that uhm. for ideas. jimmy really has a LOT of sources to draw from and a lot of directions to go down to even individual season #I like the sky and sea balance myself but you can also totally pull in like. goats and dogs and toys and flowers and eldritch beings too LO #I've less a read on lizzie as a whole but water blorpo is a VERY STRONG direction for her I feel (as I took inspo from ^^;>)#fairy is rly fun too. but I'm also immensely charmed by little esmp S2 calico kitty lizzie pretending to not be that. much fun to be had...#joel I like more scrappy and mammalian in comparison? and small for username and for how insistent on not being short he is #but wolf and tiger and pirate and *whatever* last life did to him lends towards a lot creatively too I think. absolute menace #sorry for. answering your query actually for real in the tags I think I lost the plot somewhere tonight. thank you sorry thank you

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago

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Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!

I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3

Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao

warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13

wc: 3.5k ish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.

Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things.

Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax.

Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration.

It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers.

"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler.

"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."

Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words.

"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers! How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?"

"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"

"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!"

"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."

"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."

"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling.

"I could do this all day, princesa. "

You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure.

~~~

You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit.

You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive.

He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time.

You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far.

That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him.

You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.

"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar.

"You okay?"

He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you. "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all."

You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."

He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."

~~~

As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two.

Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand.

Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over.

It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you.

You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.

You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.

You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass.

It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder.

"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?"

You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink.

"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar.

He stretches out his hand, and you take it.

"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."

Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words.

"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"

"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck.

"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."

The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do.

And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him.

Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you.

~~~

He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.

You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.

He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer.

He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in.

You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness.

"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him.

You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension.

You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip.

"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck.

He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders.

He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out.

"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper.

Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."

The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile.

You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face.

~~~

It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more.

He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words.

Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is.

He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate all your needs.

When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order.

So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk.

He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -"

"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains.

You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary.

"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-"

"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious .

"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body.

"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something.

You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up.

He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?"

You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression is steady, just as unreadable.

"Do you want to?"

You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over.

"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me."

You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust.

"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod.

Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man.

You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper.

"Fuck, Miguel."

"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot.

You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares.

"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans.

"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."

His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters.

" M-Miguel …"

He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm.

" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?"

You nod frantically with a stifled sob.

"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."

"...fuuck you."

" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."

"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.

"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."

" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please."

"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?"

"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks.

He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers.

You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath.

"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."

You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought.

You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy.

He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum.

Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago.

"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process.

"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?"

"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."

All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles.

"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa."

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #light angst #kat_writes😼#miguel o hara x reader #headcanon #miguel o'hara headcanons #jealousy

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 3 months ago

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🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠

(This one ran away with me, whoops)

Batboy_Kas: Um ... dude, what? 🤨

This is the dm that greets Steve when he pulls his phone from his back pocket to check his Instagram. One confused frown, some scrolling, and one near-heart-attack later, he concludes that he forgot to lock his screen when he put the phone away earlier.

Which caused him to somehow end up on this random stranger's profile.

And go to his DMs.

And send him a GIF.

Not just any GIF. One of a grotesquely round and jiggly, animated ass. There's a text beneath the GIF. It reads: 2iggnag lg9gajdgka hfhdgjy.

"Aw, fuck!" Steve swears, neck prickling with heat as he types his reply.

Steve_Hairington: Shit, sorry. My ass typed that 😅

Batboy_Kas: Fitting choice of gif 🍑

Steve_Hairington: Yeah I guess

Batboy_Kas: You could say it's a ... smart ass

Steve snorts a laugh. What a dork! He's still debating if he should reply or leave it at that when Batboy_Kas sends his next message.

Batboy_Kas: So ... not even the tiniest chance you were flirting with me?

Steve_Hairington: Sorry dude. I prefer my men-

(He pauses to squint at the guy's profile pic. A cute little cartoon bat.)

-a little more human-shaped.

Batboy_Kas: Hey! That's just bc you've never had a creature of the night b4 🦇😉

Steve_Hairington: 🤣🤣🤣 Nice try, bat boy!

They end up texting (and flirting) regularly. Kas - named after some vampire dude from that dungeons and dipshits game Dustin enjoys - is a huge fantasy and music nerd, can keep up a string of banter for hours, and his dms quickly become the highlight of Steve’s days.

He knows better than to meet random faceless and nameless strangers from the internet, he really does. But when Kas says he's in town for work some two months later, Steve is a bit embarrassed at how fast he agrees to a date.

Kas doesn't really beat the vampire allegations when he shows up at their meeting point, skittish and nervous, clad in an oversized Metallica hoodie, drawn all the way over his head inspite of the sunny weather, dark shades obscuring his eyes.

He's cute, though. Sweet and almost shy without the distance and a screen between them, but still with that quick wit and edgy sense of humor Steve has come to like so much. A deep, rich voice that makes something inside Steve’s belly tingle, a hint of dark curls spilling out from his hood, and strong, calloused hands covered in rings, the edges of black tattoos disappearing into his sleeves. It makes Steve wanna take the stupid hoodie off him so that he can see all of him.

Which is exactly what he does when they take it to Kas's hotel room later that night. And God, the man is gorgeous. Dark, messy curls framing a pair of insanely dark brown eyes and the poutiest lips Steve has ever had the pleasure of kissing. An intricate web of tattoos that are just begging to be traced with his tongue.

Later, when they're lying together in an exhausted tangle of naked limbs and sweaty sheets, Steve snaps a photo and saves it as his phone background. He doesn't think much of it.

Until a week later, when Dustin opens his phone to read out a message while Steve is driving and starts shrieking so loudly they almost crash into a tree, bc why the fuck does Steve have a selfie of himself and Eddie Munson - frontman of the world famous metal band Corroded Coffin - on his phone and are you both naked, Steve???

Tagging some friends to share a brainworm of their own:

@cuips-not-cute @steddiecameraroll @postmodernau @oh-stars @steddie-island

@wynnyfryd @pennyplainknits @medusapelagia @hotluncheddie @sidekick-hero

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #brainworm #wiggly Wednesday #hype's wiggly Wednesday #hype's brainworms

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kitten4sannie · 9 months ago

Text

ɪɴᴅᴜꜱᴛʀʏ ʙᴀʙʏ

ᴄᴜᴄᴋᴏʟᴅ/ᴄᴜᴍ ᴘʟᴀʏ ➠ ᴍɪɴɢɪ/ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ

pairing: singer/rapper bf! mingi x fem! reader x guitarist! hongjoong

genre: band au, smut

summary: your bf’s band has such a good set, that he doesn’t mind sharing you with the handsy guitarist. anything for his baby. he just wants to assess the damage afterwards.

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: open relationship, mentioned alcohol/drugs use, dom! mingi/hongjoong, joongie’s got a tongue piercing ^^, sub! reader, so muchhh cucky behavior, mxm if you squint, teasing, perversion, dirty talk, degradation, pet names, fingering, oral (receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism, unprotected rough sex, actual phone sex, creampie, two seconds of cockwarming, cum eating, more oral and fingering, some clit nibbling, squirting

a/n: urgghh im obsessed with tunnel and mingi and hongjoong’s guitar solo and just minjoong in general hhhhhnn also idkw happened but hongjoong is giving me more and more brainworms these days and i just i’m uhhhhh 🧎🏻‍♀️so yeah please enjoy whatever this is <33

Now Playing:

ᴅɪɢɪᴛᴀʟ ʙᴀᴛʜ ʙʏ ᴅᴇꜰᴛᴏɴᴇꜱ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

You were always full of nerves before your boyfriend’s band went on, especially when the previous band was finishing up their encore. Hanging out backstage was always hectic too, the venue’s employees running around like headless chickens in pursuit of completing the latest task their manager gave them, members of other bands and their entourages engaging in boisterous conversations, drinking, and doing drugs amongst themselves, their actions up to par with the touring lifestyle. It wasn’t until you ran into the guitarist of your boyfriend’s band, Hongjoong, that your nerves doubled, but for a different reason.

“Y/N, there you are. Where have you been, huh?” Hongjoong greeted you with a hug, resting his solo cup against your lower back, his free hand moving down to your ass, squeezing it a few times through your skirt, sighing against your skin, his body relaxing against yours. “I missed my stress toy…”

“Joong,” you whined, pushing gently at his leather bound chest, your hand almost getting tangled in one of his silver chained necklaces. “You always get so grabby before a show. What if Mingi sees?”

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, leaning his face into your neck, alcohol on his breath. “You know he wants to see it. And it’s not my fault I can't keep my hands off you. Just look at you…” The buzzed guitarist gazed down at your body with hooded eyes, his jaw tightening up more and more the longer he pictured what you looked like folded up for him and taking everything he had to give. “You’d look so good underneath me, baby. Spread open all nice and wide…fuck….”

“Joongie, please…” you whispered, squeezing your thighs together, pressing your back into the concrete wall behind you, feeling him press further into you as a result.

“You can beg for me after the show, sweetheart. Just let me get a peek, okay?” Knowing he had you right where he wanted you, Hongjoong slowly ran a calloused finger along your jaw, down your neck to your rising chest, pleased with the way your breath hitched, his dark eyes flitting between your gaze and the slope of your bare tits through your thin white tank top, unable to resist pulling down the neckline of your top until he had a good view of your pebbled nipples. “Look at that. You’re just aching to be touched, aren’t you?”

You were so wet, you could’ve sworn that you were about to drip all over the backstage floor, barely able to form any coherent words besides a small ‘yeah’, letting the perverted guitarist grab at your hips, his fingers pressing into your hip bones, a low groan leaving his lips.

“Wanna fuck you, baby, wanna make you mine,” Hongjoong sighed into your ear, about to describe his needs in detail and put his hands all over you when Mingi came around the corner, a lollipop poking through his cheek, his ringed fingers rubbing at the mascara near his lash line.

Mingi stopped in his tracks, towering over the both of you due to the studded boots he always wore during his shows. He studied you, noticing how flushed you were and how hard you were already breathing. He couldn’t help but to pull his sweet lollipop out to bite at his plump lip, his cock ready to come to life. “Oh? What’s this about, sugar?”

“Babyy, there you are,” you greeted, bouncing on your heels, making grabby hands at your boyfriend.

In return, Mingi lifted you up and spun you around in a tight hug, making sure to press a kiss to your cheek before putting you back down in front of his favorite bandmate.

“Joongie’s being all needy again,” you giggled, leaning back against Hongjoong’s chest.

“Can’t help it.” Hongjoong casually handed his drink to Mingi who took it and knocked it back, wrapping his arms around you from behind, leaning his head on your shoulder, a sickening smirk gracing his feline-like lips. “Hey, Minnie. Wanna make a bet?”

“What kind of bet?” Mingi licked at the corner of his salivating mouth, pulling at the crotch of his heavy, chained pants, his cock pressed against one of his thighs, growing harder just from seeing the way you fit perfectly inside his bandmate’s arms. Shit.

“If I nail my guitar solo tonight, will you let me have Y/N for a night?” Hongjoong requested, nuzzling his face against your heated cheek, making a small pouty face at his dear bandmate.

Mingi knew he shouldn’t be getting this worked up before a show, but it might make him perform better if he was thinking about how bad he wanted you, and how he couldn’t have you until Hongjoong did. He knew the odds of Hongjoong hitting every single note perfectly was a 50/50 chance. His chances were even lower if he had access to a bottle of jack that night, though Mingi was aware that his bandmate was quite skilled with his calloused fingers, only knowing because you wouldn’t shut up about it a few nights ago.

The lead singer decided he would push all his chips onto the table, knowing he would have his darling to himself either way. You belonged to him, whether you were filled with another man’s load or not. “Sure, as long as you make sure my baby cums.” He sent a charming smile your way, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek, chuckling softly when you pressed a kiss to the side of his thumb, your lips making contact with the cold metal of his large skull ring.

“Hear that, princess? Min wants me to have you,” Hongjoong purred into your ear from the other side. “And so do you, huh? Is that cunt of yours dripping already? I think we should have a litle peek...” Knowing all three of you would enjoy it, the guitarist snaked his hands around your waist from behind, lifting your skirt up for only Mingi to see, rubbing his rough fingers along your bare cunt.

“I-i heard,” you gasped, grasping at Mingi’s oversized sweater, your fingers going into one of the torn holes it had, leaning your head back against Hongjoong’s shoulder, trying not to make any noise when Mingi joined in, slipping two of his fingers into your pulsing cunt, the feeling of his rings stretching you out further making you jolt.

“You know what I hear? How fucking wet you already are for us.” Hongjoong said into your ear, his digits rubbing roughly into your clit, his eyes on Mingi’s hooded ones, licking at his lips. “Your girlfriend is such a slut, Min. God, I love it.”

“She loves it too,” Mingi replied in a gravelly voice, stepping a little closer to cage you against Hongjoong, pushing the lollipop into your mouth to watch you suck on it. “But you still belong to me…Don’t you, baby?”

“Of course, Minnie. I’m only yours.” You nodded obediently up at him, crunching some of the lollipop in between your teeth when Mingi added another digit inside your tight hole, your thighs trembling slightly.

“That’s my girl.” Your boyfriend gave you a pretty smile, pressing his hand against the wall near your head to further display his dominance over you, his eyes fixed on your submissive gaze, and the way you just let him fill you up with his thick fingers, his bandmate’s fingers still working you clit like he would would a six string. “Fuck…you’re so sexy like this, baby…”

“Try not to blow your load before the show,” Hongjoong mused, his smirk growing more and more reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat’s. He was about to tease Mingi more when the previous band sang their last angsty lyric and shredded their remaining guitar notes, silence filling up the air for only a moment, before there was an immediate uproar of rowdy cheers and shouts from the pumped up crowd.

Your boyfriend’s band was up next and you couldn’t wait to watch them from the sidelines, ready to catch their occasional hungry glances, knowing they were ready to tear you apart once they finished their heavy, energy filled set.

Mingi delivered as usual, showing off his impressive duality, going from spitting quick, head-turning bars with a devilish smirk on his sweaty face, to expressing emotional, thought provoking lyrics with a soft, expressive voice that would have anyone shedding a tear, his face contorted in melancholic concentration, his hands wrapped tightly around his mic, his dominating stage presence alone having the entire venue in a chokehold throughout the entire set.

Hongjoong arguably delivered just as well, consistently shredding notes on his sleek guitar with a borderline psychotic look in his eyes and a heinous grin that would make the Devil himself blush, working his rough, agile fingers song after heavy song, never failing to provide Mingi with his own unique back-up vocals. And just like clockwork, despite being a bit tipsy and high on some kind of illegal drug, Hongjoong captivated the large audience with his infamous guitar solo, making everybody in the crowd cream themselves with his nasty riffs. All Hongjoong could do after was push back his sweaty hair and send Mingi a shit-eating smirk, that was returned with a soft chuckle and head shake. He made sure to give you a look too, though this time he had his fingers held up in a V, his pierced tongue sticking out in between them.

You were in for a busy night.

࿏࿏࿏

“Hey, eyes on me, baby…” Hongjoong commanded in a low whisper from below you, sitting comfortably on his knees, using his thumbs to keep your cunt spread open for him, watching you writhe around against the wall of the spacious hotel shower, beads of water dripping through his damp bangs and past his smudged eyeliner, pooling in the crevices of his collar bone, the rest trickling down along his dangling necklaces.

He had easily coaxed you inside his hotel room, not having to do much to get you in his shower, claiming he needed to cool down after giving it his all during the show — though he still made sure to give you his all during your own private show, using his calloused, dexterous fingers to play with your body, delighted with the pretty, wanton sounds he created, wanting nothing more than to write a song about how delicious you looked in that moment — flushed, transfixed on his pierced tongue lapping at your throbbing clit, and moaning out the little pet name you gave him.

“That’s it….” The side of his lips quirked up a bit at the pout you gave him, before he pursed them and sent a wad of spit directly into you, pushing two fingers back inside you to rub it around your tight, pulsing walls. “I love when you look at me like that.”

“Like what, Joong?” you breathed out, running your fingers through his wet hair, gripping the sides of his head, your thighs beginning to feel like jelly from the way Hongjoong was finger-fucking you into ecstasy.

“Like you want my cock,” he sighed, unable to keep himself from diving back into your cunt, lapping at your clit and slit like a pussydrunk maniac, easily slipping a third finger inside you.

“I do…! I need your cock, Joongie, please,” you moaned out, so close to your high that you began to push his face into your cunt, rubbing it against his moving tongue, his piercing repeatedly catching on your clit, driving more pleasured moans out of you, neither of you aware in that moment that your dear perverted boyfriend sat on the other side of the wall, standing fully clothed in his own shower and jerking himself off with fervid desperation, his jeans hanging loosely around his jolting hips.

“You’ll have it, baby, I promise. Cum on my tongue first,” he said with his lips against your soaked cunt, curling his fingers and rubbing at the gummy spot inside you, sending you over the edge, sticking his tongue out to catch your arousal on it, his cock throbbing at the sound of his name mixed with swears being cried out by his bandmate’s pretty girlfriend.

Soon, you grew docile and dazed, wrapping your limbs around him as soon as he stood up and carried you over to his bed, not wasting any time sending a few drops of spit down onto your hot cunt and plugging it up with his thick cock.

Mingi felt like he was going to melt, his brain and body going into overdrive over the fact that his beloved bandmate was busy putting a baby in his baby, making her feel so good she was starting to cry, his cock throbbing inside his closed fist, listening closely to the pants and moans that made their way into his pierced, attentive ears, along with the incessant creaking of the mattress springs — though the disruptive banging sounds of the wooden bedframe hitting the thin wall contended for Mingi’s attention as well.

“Joong..! It’s so good, you’re so good,” he heard you whine out in a broken voice, not hearing the rest of your cries due to Hongjoong stuffing two fingers into your willing mouth. Mingi couldn’t help but want to drown in his sin, pulling his phone out of his back pocket.

You looked to your phone with half-closed eyes, watching the way it buzzed against the moving mattress, your legs suddenly getting closer to your body, Hongjoong lifting your lower half up to fuck into you even deeper than before, rendering you speechless from the pressure of his heated body on yours.

“Answer it, baby,” Hongjoong huffed from above you, his necklaces dragging along your flushed skin with each sloppy thrust, blowing a bit of wet hair out of his half-lidded eyes.

“Mingi,” you sighed into the receiver, trying to catch your breath, knowing you were on the edge of ecstasy with the way your body was starting to feel heavy, despite the feeling like you were ready to float away. “I’m gonna cum, baby, it– aaah, oh my god…!”

“Cum for me, princess. Let me hear how pretty you sound cumming on his cock,” Mingi moaned back, squeezing his hand around his length, his eyes ready to roll underneath his eyelids.

Hongjoong put his entire body weight onto you, his lips sliding across your neck to leave a few marks, his cock throbbing against your tight inner walls, pounding into you a few more times before he painted them white. “M’ cumming inside your girl, Minnie, it’s feel so fucking good…”

It was when Hongjoong bit down onto your neck that you catapulted over the edge, grabbing at the guitarist’s bare back, digging your nails into his skin. “Mingiii, he’s filling me up…it won’t stop…”

“Oh god, baby, oh my god.” Mingi huffed and huffed, his entire body tensing up as he drove himself over the edge right after you, splashes of cum landing on his rapidly rising chest and abdomen.

You simply laid there making small squeaks from the aftershocks of your orgasm, while Hongjoong stayed put inside you, his soft, deflated cock suddenly twitching with newfound interest, a light bulb appearing inside his hazy brain. “Min, I want you to come over here. You need to see the mess I made inside your girlfriend…”

And just like that, Mingi made his way over to the next door hotel room, fumbling with his loose pants and the doorknob, wiggling till it unlocked. He kicked his jeans off once inside the half-lit room, climbing onto the bed to join the both of you, having the same intensely horny, almost deranged look in his eye that he usually had before a show.

“Baby, look,” you sighed out, spreading your thighs open, while Hongjoong pulled out inch by inch, until a flood of creamy white liquid bubbled out of your pulsing hole, dripping down your thighs and onto the already damp mattress below.

Before Mingi could properly access the arousing situation, drool falling from his moaning mouth, Hongjoong suddenly grabbed him by the hair, pushing his head down in between your legs. “You wanna clean it up, don’t you, Minnie? Come on, be a good boy and lick up the mess I left inside her.”

Blushing, Mingi lapped at the mess of cum and slick, using his fingers to scoop the rest out into his eager mouth, Hongjoong’s hand still pressing his face further into your used cunt, eventually letting go when he started to go at it, watching his bandmate’s tongue swipe at your clit and slit. Mingi didn’t even seem to notice, too busy drowning in his baby’s sweet cunt to have any awareness, his hands clutching your trembling thighs.

“Gonna cum again,” you whined out, unable to speak when your boyfriend suddenly lifted his fingers up to your mouth to suck on them, his lips sucking around your sensitive clit, his dark, glazed over eyes focused solely on the way you seemed to completely fall apart in front of his and his best friend.

“Think you can get her to squirt?” Hongjoong asked from beside him, resting one of his hands on your moving thighs, holding it down so that you couldn’t close them.

Mingi glanced over at Hongjoong, rolling his mascara-smudged eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make his baby feel so good she sobbed. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, instead pushing three of them inside you, curling them up until you cried out. With his other hand, he forcefully pushed Hongjoong’s head down onto your cunt next. “Lick,” he commanded gruffly, concentrating solely on fucking you into ecstasy with his thick fingers.

Moaning against your cunt, Hongjoong lapped and nibbled on your throbbing clit, his cold piercing dragging over your sensitive flesh, feeling his bandmate’s fingers tugging at his hair, eliciting another muffled moan from him.

“Bite it. Bite her clit and make her cum,” Mingi demanded through gritted teeth, working your cunt like he always did, enjoying the sight of you writhing around, unable to speak or think, knowing his pretty baby was experiencing some of the best pleasure of her life thanks to him and his friend.

It was when Hongjoong bit down and moved your clit in between his teeth, Mingi’s fingers still moving relentlessly inside your clenching cunt, that you screamed, your boyfriend’s slick-covered fingers going back into your mouth to keep you from waking up everyone else in the hotel. Both bandmates watched as a small fountain of liquid squirted from your pulsing cunt, seeping into the mattress and turning it dark.

A few moments of silence went by, before Hongjoong gave Mingi a sickening smile. “Bet you can’t get her to do that with your cock.”

Mingi shook his head, blowing his wet bangs out of his eyes. “Of course I can. She’s my baby. I know her body like the back of my hand. I’ll make her drench the both of us.”

Hongjoong giggled softly, tilting his head to the side, his eyes flitting from you to Mingi. “Wanna make a bet?”

You were definitely in for a long night.

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