#now directly going to coloring is my best friend

[mikkomacko]

Him and I- Loose Ends

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Reader, Mob Boss! Nico

Warnings: smut, violence, weapons, mentions of blood, alcohol use

Previous chapter

A/n: Just as a PSA for my own piece of mind, the characters that are Nico’s family in this story do not at all reflect them in real life. They only share names and looks, and I am in no way making claims or assumptions about who they are in real life. Whoo, now that that’s out there, I hope yall enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!

Thanks!

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Nico’s always been a simple man.

It doesn’t take much to keep him happy. All he ever wanted was his own life, his own business. And while the execution of that wasn’t necessarily simple, once he did it, it was all a piece of cake.

His favorite days were the ones where he got up, met up with Timo for a morning run and breakfast or coffee, and then went into work. Didn’t matter the job or place he was at for the day, all that mattered is that he was getting to work with his best friends in a new city he loved.

He thinks he’s gotten even simpler since meeting you. He’s got a lot of favorite things now, all of which revolve around you. The smell of your hair after an everything shower, the way your hand feels in his. The color of your lips and how it feels when they kiss him, how his whole body turns to goo. How your eyes sparkling when they look at him.

Even just the sound of you breathing next to him is enough.

“Nico,” He especially loves the way his name sounds coming from your lips.

So yeah, Nico is a simple man.

“Shh baby,” he breathes into your temple, “I’ve got you.” He’s simple in the way that all he needs, all he’s ever going to need is you. And he thinks this trip to his home has more than proven that.

Your fingers stroke through his hair, soft and gentle compared to the way your thighs are squeezing around his hips, knees biting into the bone. Flexing, you try to pull him in, to no avail. Nico laughs under his breath, calmly rocking back into your dripping pussy.

“Nico,” you whine again, a pathetic sound hiccuping directly into his ear. “Schoa, please.”

Pressing a kiss to the hinge of your jaw and then your lips, Nico rolls his hips back into you, dick twitching when your eyes roll back.

“Let me take my time,” he tells you, and you blink up at him with glossy eyes. You’re not gonna argue with him, not gonna demand he fuck you into the mattress. He knows (and loves) that you get whiny and blubbery during sex, no matter how he does it. So he doesn’t have to say it scoldingly, no he just has to talk sweet to you.

You love when he’s soft and sweet, preening and puckering your lips at him. Nico kisses you, lazy and lackadaisically, focusing more on the feeling of your lips rather than the feeling of your pussy clenching around him.

God he could die kissing you. Every bone in his body broken, every inch of skin battered and bruised, every sense destroyed. The most horrible death imaginable, and as long as you were there, kissing him, he wouldn’t care. He’d simply move on, wait for you impatiently in the next life just to do it all over again.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers into the skin of your cheek, “so perfect, ya know that?”

Your fingers tug on his hair, the other tickling down the side of his ribs and he shivers, drops more of his weight into you.

“Shut up and let me come,” you reply, a teasing lilt in your tone. When he pulls back, you’re smiling, face sweaty and pink. “Please Schoa?”

Yeah, you’re perfect.

“Thought you were supposed to be sweet,” he taunts, kissing the corner of your mouth. Settling into the cradle of your thighs, he switches the pace to something slow and sensual, more grinding than anything else.

A broken moan touches his lips, the new pace adding more pressure to your clit than before.

“We both know you’re the sweet one,” you mumble, the words more spoken into the scruff of his cheek than the air around you two. He presses forward, knees digging into the mattress and you stutter out his name when his cock brushes that spongey spot.

“Just for you baby,” he swears, then he’s kissing you again, wiggling a large hand between the two of you. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing tender circles while he grinds into you, deep and slow.

Hips tilting up and thighs tightening around him, Nico swallows every broken whimper that leaves your lips.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty.” He pants into the kiss, eyes squeezing shut when his orgasm burns at the base of his spine and the pit of his stomach. “That’s my girl, give it to me baby.”

You tug at his hair, nails biting into his skin as he tips you over the edge. Warm and slick walls pulsing around his cock, Nico bites at the side of your neck as you milk his own orgasm out of him. He grinds through it, thighs sore and tired, hips aching from the way you were fighting him to go faster and harder earlier but he doesn’t care.

Everything feels so good now, so hot and sweet. He can’t tell where his limbs end and yours begin, or which heavy breaths are his or yours, or even which pounding heartbeat is his.

Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect.

Nico presses a sweet kiss of apology to the red bite mark he’s left on your throat, tilting his chin up to catch your lips. You kiss him back, humming contently.

“Marry me Nico,”

Blinking his eyes open, Nico looks down at you in confusion. He heard the words, feels them in his chest, but his brain is fighting to comprehend them. Especially here, like this.

“W-what?”

“I said no last time and then it got fucked up,” you explain, dropping your hand to feel his chest, pressing into the skin like you’re trying to touch his heart. “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for you, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

It takes his breath away- you take his breath away. He could say yes, lean down to kiss you and tell you he already has colors and flowers picked out. He could get out both of his rings and take you to the courthouse right now. It’d be a dream come true.

But it wouldn’t be what you deserve.

“Well you’re gonna have to,” he answers quietly, a loving smile on his face. He doesn’t have to worry about you taking it the wrong way because you know him. You’re the other side of the same coin, always right there with him. “Because I’m doing this right.”

You pout, blink up at him sadly but you’re still smiling. Glowing, radiating, whatever you want to call it. “Fair enough, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” He chuckles, kissing at the corner of your mouth. “How do you know about the other one anyway?”

“Timo told me,” you mumble, then pause like you’re thinking. “He also told me to say no to any proposal in which someone is naked and/or you’re inside of me.”

Nico laughs. “Two-for-two this time huh?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, eyes going tender and warm as they examine every inch of his face. “I really am sorry about that day Nico.”

The air shifts, any playfulness or teasing that existed before being sucked up and out of the room. Nico swallows heavily, heart thumping in his throat. It hurts him to think that his carefully timed and planned proposal got hijacked, but he doesn’t blame you. He could never blame you.

It just wasn’t meant to be that day.

“It’s not your fault,” he promises. “And m’not too torn up about it, I swear. You and Timo are crazy if you think I don’t have a million different ways I want to ask you to marry me.”

Your eyes, still heavy with sleep, twinkle with intrigue. “Really? Like what?”

“Well a few of them resembled our current situation but if Timo is vetoing them…”

“Aw screw him,” you grumble jokingly. “I think we should explore said situations a little bit more.”

And they say Nico’s the dirty one. “Yeah?”

“Mhm, we do have all morning after all.”

Nico could’ve sworn he had plans for this morning but he can’t for the life of him remember what it was. Oh well, he’s got better places he could be.

~~~~

Luca, unlike Nico, has a lot of friends. And not just friends within the business, but like actual friends. People from school, people from hockey, people from just living his whole life in the same town.

It’s funny to see. Luca has his men working, stationed around the bar as security and extra security. Usually nights out and celebrations back in Jersey are with the boys. They’re yours and Nico’s friends, and unless they request time on the clock, Nico doesn’t make them work.

“Whoa,” Luke breathes, taking in the crowded bar. Casual, is what Nico told all of you. It’s a causal get together with friends. Luca being casual with this many people is mind blowing.

“How’d you end up being the anti-social Hischier?”

Nico glares at Jack, the look being answer enough for why Nico has a small circle. Ushering the group of them into the corner booth, away from the music and bar, you make all the boys sit down. Well, all except for Nico who stands by your side, arms crossed over his chest.

“Alright, I’m saying this once and only once,” you begin, making sure they’re all looking and listening. “Do not leave the bar tonight without telling someone. Unless Luca tells you that you can have a drink on him, you order on our tab. No going home with Luca’s friends,”

You pointedly look at Jack, who frowns in offense.

“We have a flight in two days. Which means first thing tomorrow we’re up and packing and cleaning up the house. No whining.”

Four heads bobble in agreement, intent eyes locked on yours.

“I don’t care how much you drink, I don’t care who you hang out with here in the bar. But best behavior and no fighting-“

“Especially you two.” Nico interjects, pointing a finger at Jack and Luke. “We clear?”

“Yes boss,” they say in unison. Easing up, you smile and nod towards the bar top and pool tables.

“Alright, go have fun.”

Like horses out of the gate the four younger boys trip over each other to scramble away from the table. Timo snickers as they go, tripping Mercer on his way but that does nothing to deter him.

“Hm she’s strict Neeky.”

Turning, Luca and Maja are behind you now, double fisting drinks. Maja has a couple of those sweet cocktails you’d had the last time you were here and your mouth waters when she holds the glass out to you.

“Good cop, bad cop,” Nico replies, taking the beer Luca is handing him. “She’s all talk, I’m execution.”

Catching the straw in your mouth, you take a sip. Nico holds his hand up and you high five him, not even having to look at each other. It makes Luca laugh, the way it seems rehearsed and you giggle too.

“Not enough hands for me, or what?” Timo complains, motioning to the drink Luca didn’t bring him. Luca laughs, lightly shoving at Timo and the two boys start bickering in Swiss German.

Lost on the conversation, you press into Nico’s side. “Neeky?” You grin, running your hand up and down his lower back. “Why didn’t I get to call you that?”

“They called me that when I was a baby.”

“And now, when you’re not a baby.”

He huffs, taking a swig of his beer. The question has been on your mind ever since you got here and heard him first answer to the name. You and Jack had been the ones to first call him Schoa, delirious and giggling in the bar after Timo called him Hischow. Those were his only nicknames, everything else was Nico or Hischier or boss.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “S’just an embarrassing childhood nickname I guess.”

Rising to your toes, you tuck your nose into the curve of his jaw. “I think it’s cute,” you punctuate the promise with a kiss to his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I like the Swiss bits about you,” you say, sipping your drink. Timo, still chattering with Luca and now Maja, raches out blindly and you hand it to him. The free hand lets you plaster yourself to Nico’s torso, hugging his slim waist. “I wish you spoke it more, at home and stuff.”

His cheeks tinge pink, something like shyness settling into his gaze when he glances at Timo and his brother. “My accent gets thick,” he says quietly. “Jonas says half the time he doesn’t even know what I’m saying. And then it messes up my English too because I get all slurry.”

Frowning, you try to think a time he’s been weird with his English. Sometimes he speaks more formal than most Americans would, or he stumbles over a pronunciation but you’ve always known what he was talking about.

“That’s not true,” you insist. “Well I don’t know about Jonas’s claims but I always understand you. And I like your accent.”

Shaking his head, he smiles, a little bitter. “S’not exactly the kinda accent you want to hear in bed, is it? Not like yours.”

You can’t believe you didn’t know this about Nico. That him not making the language mandatory for the boys, him not speaking in his native tongue or sharing his childhood names, or even calling you sweet pet names in Swiss German is all because of this.

He’s embarrassed about his accent.

“Nico,” you murmur, dramatically pouting your lips when his gaze falls to your mouth. “I love your accent.”

He hums, low and quiet, like he’s embarrassed to be asking for the reassurance but wants it anyway. Luckily for him, you’re always down to praise the ground he walks on.

Lowering your voice, you tuck into his shoulder to hide your words from his family. “Especially when it’s telling me what a good girl I am.”

A shuddering breath leaves his lips, wetting them with his tongue. He wraps his arm around your middle, dark eyes meeting yours.

“Fuck, what am I gonna do with you?” He mutters more to himself than you, but you’re pressed up against him so tightly it’d be impossible for you not to hear.

You smile, “kuss?”

Nico chuckles, leaning in to kiss you. You cup the back of his neck, drawing him closer and tease the seal of his lips with your tongue-

“Hands off her Hischier!”

Disgruntled, Nico pulls back and looks over your head. His eyebrow pinch together, lips pursed and your heart stutters in your chest. You know that’s his mean look, the grump face Jack is always talking about but you think it’s so cute.

Turning, you rest back on Nico’s chest and he wraps his arm across your chest. Flattered, you hold onto his bicep, blinking innocently at Jack and Dawson.

“You two are not allowed to drink with her,” Nico dismisses before they can even ask. Timo rolls his lips, trying not to laugh as he hands your drink back. Luca, not bothering to uphold his brother’s authority, laughs anyway.

“Uh-oh,” he teases, “what trouble did the kids get you into?”

Blushing, you ignore Luca in favor of taking another sip. Luke’s face brightens, already fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“She drank the whole bar out from under Jack,” he snorts, scrolling through what you know is his Snapchat memories. The stupid app where the videos of you on the keg and Timo’s shoulders live. “It was the first time she hung out with us without Nico.”

He hands the phone over, Luca’s face cracks open into a delighted laugh that sounds a lot like Nico’s. Grumpy, you tilt your head back to look up at Nico.

“Can we go practice pool?”

Nico licks his lips again, smiling as he nods. “Lead the way baby.”

~~~~

Fiddling with the empty shot glass in front of you, you blindly nod along to whatever story Nina is sharing with the table. It’s not polite, you know that, to pretend to be listening when you’re not. Especially if you’re doing a shit job at it.

But it’s like Nico is telepathically beckoning your eyes to be on him all night.

He looks so good, squinting in concentration at the game of beer pong in front of him. Luca is muttering something in his ear, obviously strategizing on how to make sure the Hughes boys don’t catch up and win.

If Nico can feel you watching him, he doesn’t show it. He keeps his eyes on the makeshift table, what was obviously the other pool table but now has a plank of sanded and glossed wood on top. Luca pats him on the back, takes a step to the left and then Nico is holding up his ping pong ball, his large hand and fingers dwarfing it.

God, he’s so hot, you think and Nico bites his lip as he aims, turning to find the right angle and you almost die when he juts his ass out just the slightest bit. Maybe he does know you’re watching him.

“Hey,” an elbow bumps you, Nina’s you think. “stop drooling over Nico. Your bestie is trying to talk to you.”

You’re not even embarrassed about being caught staring (and drooling), but you are a little embarrassed that Timo is now standing at the end of the table. You hadn’t even noticed.

You do notice the red head by his side though, everything about her even more beautiful up close. She’s got Timo’s hand in hers, a blue drink in the other and you immediately smile in greeting.

“M’not even sorry,” you say to Timo, who looks unimpressed. “He’s so hot.”

“I’m not surprised,” he counters, “you do this every time you drink around him.”

Maja and Nina snicker, and you shrug. A proud smile pulls at your lips and you lift your drink in cheers to him. “Guilty.”

Timo laughs, shaking his head and then he’s letting go of the girls hand to hold her waist. “Anyway, this is Amelia-“ even her name is beautiful. “-is it ok if she hangs out with you guys?”

Nina is immediately scooting down the table to make room. “Yes of course!” She exclaims, “it’s so nice to see you again.” Timo whispers something in Amelia’s ear before she sits down, smiling shyly.

“M’up next for pong,” Timo explains, making a face at you. “Pray Luca gets worse as he drinks because Nico does not.”

You sip your drink, glancing over at Nico. He’s laughing at whatever Jack just told him, solo cup in hand. You meet Timo’s gaze again, his eyes wide in expectation.

“Oh,” you say, already knowing what he’s not asking. “Yeah, just give me like a nod or something and I’ll take care of him.”

Timo reaches across the table and you high five him, laughing. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He cheers, then he’s pressing a kiss to Amelia’s head.

“See ya later!” He darts away from the table, heading down for his turn of pong.

“What was that about?” Amelia asks, the first words she’s spoken to you tonight. Nina is looking to you for an answer too but by the way Maja is smiling in amusement, you have a feeling she knows.

“I help Timo win at pong when he plays against Nico,” you explain, tentatively. “Not like cheating but Nico gets really good aim the drunker he gets so I just-distract him.”

“That’s one word for it.”

The table goes silent at Maja’s words, wheels turning until Nina’s eyes light up in understanding. Almost immediately she’s frowning in disgust.

“Oh ewwwww,” she mutters, taking a large swig of her drink. Amelia laughs, looking over her shoulder towards Timo and then at you, shrugging.

“If it works,” she says quietly, making you and Maja giggle. “That’s real friendship.”

Jack and Luke come grumbling by, pouting and petulant. It’s obvious they’ve lost their game to Nico and Luca, and when you look over their shoulders Timo and Mercer are starting their own matchup against the brothers.

“Hey,” Jack stops as he walks by, eyebrows pinched in annoyance. “He’s getting too cocky over there, boss.”

He jabs a thumb over his shoulder to Nico.

“Yeah,” Luke adds, “go make him lose, please?”

You look around, confused by the lack of the fourth boy they had at once been with. “Where’s Alex?”

Jack huffs in annoyance, a hand on his hip. “We sent him for the next round, on Nico of course, now are you gonna fuck with him or no?”

“Oh my god, yes. Now go.”

They turn to leave, Luke stopping last minute and raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you gonna tell him we asked you?”

“Oh yeah,” you snort, “but I won’t let him get mad so it’s ok.”

Luke brightens at that, shoving Jack forward and towards the bar. Focusing back on the girls, you tune into Maja asking Amelia about herself. It’s bad, but you find yourself zoning out in favor of watching Nico again.

It’s a view you can never get tired of.

You stay like, half tuned into the conversations between the girls and watching the game of beer pong. So far it’s pretty neck and neck, Dawson having aim almost as straight as Nico’s. Probably because of his height, you theorize. Him and Nico are both tall.

Though you suppose Timo is too.

He doesn’t feel as tall as Nico though. Something about his presence, his personality is just bigger than life. It probably aids his role as boss, the fact that he looks and feels so intimidating.

Timo catches your eye, tilting his head ever so slightly and you realize Nico and Luca have gone on a heater, clearing away all but three cups on the table.

“That’s my cue,” you say to the table, downing the last watered-down bit of your drink. Nina’s nose scrunches in disgust and she shoos you away.

Nico sees you coming right away, stretching out his arm for you to fit yourself under. Fiddling with his pendant, you press your chest into him, looking up at through your lashes.

“Enjoying the view?” He teases, confirming that he did in fact know you were watching him the whole time.

“Yeah,” you rise to your toes, lips close to his ear. “They sent me over here to sabotage your game.” Nico hums in acknowledgment, excited butterflies swarming your stomach. You love when the boys try to make you pick them over Nico, when you can mess with them under the pretense of teasing Nico.

They should know by now that you’re always on his side.

“I think it’d be more fun if you won though,” your voice is low, sultry and you can hear how hard Nico swallows.

“What do I get if I win?”

Pressing in closer to him, you smack a sloppy kiss to the soft patch of skin below his ear. “You get me any way you want Boss.”

Nico sinks the next three shots, and Timo doesn’t even get a chance to whine before your boyfriend is dragging you off to the back rooms of the bar.

~~~~

Fingertips and toes fuzzy from alcohol, you blindly paw at Nico. He backs you up into the edge of the sink, the porcelain pressing into your hip just rough enough to leave a bruise in the morning.

Nico’s hand drops your thigh, hitching one leg up over his hip. Unashamedly, he grinds into the newly available space.

“Fuck me,” he groans, doing it again, the bulge in his jeans growing harder with each rut into your covered core. It’s stupid and childish, like horny teenagers sneaking off at prom to grind in the janitors closet.

But it’s making Nico weak in the knees, strained noises of pleasure and teasing whimpers, all muffled by your lips. Listening to him, you slump back until your head bumps against the cool glass of the mirror, and Nico attaches to your jaw and neck.

Nipping and biting, his messily shaven beard-mustache combo scratches at your skin, just on the pleasurable side of rough.

It’s like he’s feral, lost in his own head as he marks your skin with his teeth, desperately dry humping into your overly warm body.

“Nico,” you run a hand through his hair.

“Hmm?”

His teeth nip below your ear and you hiss, digging your nails into the fabric of his flannel.

“Let me-“ you pant, cut off when he abruptly kisses you again, licking into your mouth. Kissing him, you shove at his hip with your knee until there’s enough room to get your hand down there, reaching for the button of his jeans.

“Nico,” you manage to get out, laughing when he shudders as you wiggle his button open and paw at the zipper. “Back up for a second baby.”

Eagerly, he steps back and you drop down from the sink. Nico’s panting, cheeks flushed and pupils blown when you calmly crowd into him, pressing a sweet kiss to his jaw as you get his jeans loose. You wiggle them down his hips, your knees going with them-

“Wait,” Nico catches your elbow and you freeze, peering up at him. He hastily plucks at the buttons of his flannel, quick but uncoordinated until the fabric comes loose and he shrugs it off.

“Here baby,” he murmurs, laying it out in the floor by his feet. Butterflies fluttering in your chest, you kiss him in thanks.

Even when he’s about to get his dick sucked in the bar bathroom he’s a total sweetheart.

You drop to your knees, Nico’s flannel thick and soft where it’s bunched under your weight. Grabbing the sides of his jeans, you yank them the rest of the way down his thighs until they rest around his feet.

Biting at your bottom lip, you push the edge of his shirt up with one hand and latch onto his boxer briefs with the other. His breath hitches, stomach clenching under your fingers when his cock skips free.

Thick and red, the blunt head dripping, you take him in your hand. Above you, Nico takes a deep breath, gathering your hair gently in his large hands. You lean in, by passing his hard cock in favor of kissing at the scar on the v of his hip and down his thigh. The muscle twitches under your mouth and you smile.

If the setting were better, you’d take your time teasing him. Kiss all over his thighs and hip bones, nose and lick at the underside of his cock where that stupidly sensitive vein runs under the smooth skin.

But there will be more chances for that so you don’t dwell on it.

Wetting your lips, you take his cock into your mouth, sinking down until he rests heavily on your tongue. A wrecked moan punches out of his chest, fingers tightening in your hair and you’re ready when he subconsciously urges you to take him deeper. Nothing if not predictable, methodical.

Holding tight to his thigh, you take deep breaths through your nose and swallow him down. The head of cock prods at the back of your throat, makes your throat tighten around him instinctively and Nico shudders, goosebumps rising on his skin under your fingertips.

You back off, mouth parting to suck in air while he still teases at your lips. Panting, you look up at Nico to find him already watching you. His hair’s a mess, eyes glassy and pitch black and he’s breathing heavily.

Swiping your tongue through his slit, you take him back into your mouth, watch the way his eyes flutter and his jaw clenches. You blink at him, fingers gripping his rucked up shirt tighter and you relax your jaw and throat.

Go ahead, Nico.

Like always, he can read you perfectly. His lips curl ever so slightly, the scar on his cheek dimpling. He smoothes your hair back again, lips puckering as he takes another deep breath.

Slowly, he presses his hips forward and holds you still, guiding his cock back down your throat. You let your eyes close, focusing on breathing and the sounds of his breath, the taste of his skin and come, grounding yourself.

He takes it slow for a second, easing himself in and out of your throat. But the appropriate timing to leave a party is dwindling down and Nico is getting desperate. You can tell by his gasps and whimpers, by the way he’s holding your head.

His thumb brushes the corner of your eye, the words going unspoken. You tilt your head up just a bit and Nico takes that as his go-ahead.

Rough and sloppy, Nico fucks into your mouth relentlessly. He never takes it to far, somehow always knows how to use you in a way that feels so good. You tongue at the underside of his cock, drool dripping out of the creases of your mouth.

“So good for me,” Nico groans above you, cock hitting the back of your throat and he moans when you gag around him. “Taking me like a fucking pro, like it’s your job, huh?”

You dig your nails into his thigh, choking in breathes through your nose and Nico caresses your face. “Like you meant to do this, yeah? Meant for me?”

Blinking your eyes open, Nico comes into view, blurry and watery through your eyes. You hum in agreement, his cock twitching in your mouth. Unable to answer him in words, you instead slip your hand down between his legs. He widens his stance for you, a sigh of content leaving his nose when you cup his balls.

He lets up, pulls himself all the way out of your mouth and you gasp for air, lungs burning. Gently, he swipes at your messy mouth, cleaning it up for you and you bat your eyes at him.

“Thanks baby,” you whisper, voice rough and strained. Nico simply smiles, a hiss leaving his lips because you’ve begun fondling him, lips dropping open to welcome him back into your mouth.

Nico doesn’t have to be told twice. He picks up where he left off, fucking your throat while you tease at his balls. He turns into a blubbering mess above you, Swiss German leaving his lips in a drunken slur and you’re caught off guard when he stills, cock all the way down your throat.

You grab his thigh again, whining as he spills into your mouth with a low grunt. His hand has gone slack, enough for you to pull back until just the tip is resting between your lips. Tenderly, you suckle at him, swallowing the mess he’s left behind.

A sound bordering on pain rumbles from deep in his chest, breath heavy when he mumbles, “please baby.” Dropping him from your mouth, you sweetly kiss at the scar on his thigh before rising to your feet. Nico drops your hair, taking a hold of your elbows to haul you up.

He’s all dimples and red cheeks, calloused fingers swiping under your eyes to wipe away the tears. “My pretty girl,” he whispers, kissing between your eyebrows.

You snuggle into his hold, taking a few deep breathes until your racing heart has calmed down. It hits you that his flannel is still lying rumpled on the bathroom floor, pants around his ankles, softening cock out, and you have try really hard not to laugh.

“You are so spoiling me tonight,” the thought makes you giddy, mind already conjuring up all the ways your gonna pillow princess on him later.

“Yes I am.” He says cheekily, squeezing you. Then after a beat of silence. “Fuck I need to put my pants back on.”

~~~~

You could blame the alcohol for the way you press back into him, arching your spine just enough to have the curve of your ass fit into the front of him. Truth is though, you don’t need to blame anything, don’t need to justify yourself to Nico.

He’s just as bad as you, grabbing your hip in his free hand and pulling you back into him. Leaning over you under the pretense of helping you line up a shot. Teasingly, you pull the stick back far enough that it hits his hip, fighting back a laugh when he lets out a quiet “oof.”

“Hey,” Luca scolds, and you take your shot, banking the cue ball off a solid that goes rolling into the corner pocket. “Keep it PG over there, Jesus Christ.”

Nico snickers and you straighten out, stepping away from him to hand over the pool stick. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico insists, raising an eyebrow at his brother. “M’just being helpful.”

Luca smirks. “I was talking to her,” he points at you, and you giggle innocently.

“Me? What did I do?”

He turns, putting his back towards Maja. “I know that little move,” he bends forward, shoving his ass into Maja to the point that she stumbles away from him, drink sloshing onto the floor.

“How attractive,” Nico deadpans, and Maja starts bitching at Luca in Swiss German, laughing as she does so. You turn back to Nico, hands coming up to rest on his chest and he smiles lazily.

“Yes my baby?”

“I’ll be right back,” you say, and before he can ask, “I need the bathroom. For real this time.”

Satisfaction shines in his gaze, eyes crinkling when his smirk widens. It’s an attractive look on him, this cocky and carefree Nico who’s having fun with his family. You want him like this all the time, you decide. Smiling that wide, knowing that you’ll always be here to make sure he feels good and loved.

“Yeah ok,” he agrees, “be careful.” You nod, turning to walk away and he swats at your ass as you go. You scurry away, hands covering your butt until you can no longer hear Luca gripping Nico again for being handsy.

Making your way through the tables, you come up short when you spot an eerily familiar looking group. Struck by Deja Vu, you freeze on the spot just as the group of girls in line for the bathroom turn to you.

It’s them, all of them. Lena’s friends from that first night at the bar, all the girls that stood there and let her spew lies about you and Nico. A part of you wants to yell at them, to shame them for supporting a woman that could do something like that to another woman, could do that to Nico.

But you’re smarter than that, and scared, and the logical part of you knows you need to turn around and go back to Nico. You need to tell him, to make him take you back to the private bathroom from before and then make Luca kick them out.

You don’t move though, and neither do they. At least for the moment. A short girl with mousy brown hair moves first, stepping towards you and you tense.

“Sorry,” she says, wincing. “I didn’t-we didn’t mean to put you on edge.”

“Yeah,” you laugh bitterly. “Can’t imagine why I’d be on edge around you.”

They all share guilty looks. “We didn’t know what she was gonna do, what she even did. We just heard something had happened to you and Lena had disappeared.”

“Don’t say her name to me!” You hiss, angry and embarrassed that even these stupid girls know about it. Not all of it, it seems. But enough.

“Sorry,” the girl says again and this time it’s a blonde that speaks up.

“We don’t know what happened,” she starts, tentatively and something about her tone makes you stop. She sounds…genuine. “And we don’t really want to know. If it was bad enough for her to be…gone than she probably deserved it.”

Yeah you’d say she deserved that. Actually, she probably deserved worse but you can be too nice sometimes.

“Nico may be scary, but he’s not unfair and cruel.” Another adds. You don’t bother telling them it was you that decided what happened to Lena.

“Anyway,” the mousy haired girl sighs. “We just-we wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“She was making a deal with someone. On the inside. She never said who, but she bragged a lot about how she was getting her second chance.”

A cold chill pricks at your neck, creeps down your spine and you have to swallow down the lump of fear rising in your chest. Get back to Nico, you need to get back to Nico.

“Ok,” you choke out, willing yourself to calm down. They probably mean Marcelo, the person on the inside that was working with her. Nico and Luca would’ve caught on if someone else were involved.

Abruptly, you turn, head spinning as you make a beeline back to the pool tables. Lena made a deal with someone, they had said. Not the other way around. Marcelo said he’d been offered a deal by Lena, you saw the message. No one ever said anything about her being offered a deal.

There’s nothing to do about the Lena thing right now, not that you even know if it’s true. Maybe they misspoke, maybe they’re somehow in contact with Lena and are messing with you.

Whatever it is, it’s tomorrow’s problem.

~~~~

“Look at that,” Timo sings, bumping his shoulder into Nico. Looking over at his friend, Nico follows his line of sight to you and Amelia. You’re showing her something on your phone, smiling wide and laughing together.

You look like you’ve known her your whole life, and something aches in Nico’s chest. Anyone you would have known your whole life is no longer in your life, and that fucking sucks. And it sucks that between your family and the friends that dropped you, there’s enough lingering pain to keep you from having real friendships.

Of course you’re Nico’s best friend and he knows he’s yours, but it’s not the same. He’ll never tire of you, never wish you had more friends to be around so that you’re not around him. But a part of him thinks you miss that, miss having girls around that feel like genuine friends.

You’ve never said it, but he knows you’re too scared to try and get close with the other Jersey girls.

Maybe Amelia is what you need. A real friend.

“They’re getting a long well.”

Nico looks at Timo questioningly. “You thought they wouldn’t?”

He shakes his head. “Of course I knew they would. It’s just…nice to see I guess.”

Yeah, Nico mentally agrees. It is nice. “When are you going to ask her to come to Jersey?”

Timo scoffs, elbowing Nico and narrowing his gaze. “Like you’ve got room to talk. When are you gonna ask her to marry you?”

Nico has to bite his lip to stop the smirk that rises on his face. His body warms, arousal stirring in his belly as he mentally relives this morning. “She asked me,” he laughs, “but I said no.”

“What? What is wrong with you?”

Timo smacks at his head, Nico ducking to get away. “It’s your fault. Thought there was some kinda rule you gave her about accepting proposals.”

“Huh?” Timo frowns, then sags in disappointment. “No, she didn’t ask you during sex did she?”

Nico laughs, not even needing to answer and Timo groans, painfully. “Jesus fuck, you two really are meant for each other huh?”

“Yeah,” Nico hums, heart fluttering. You are meant for him. And he’s meant for you. He can feel it in the way his entire being is always craving you, how he always feels like he’s missing something when he’s not with you. Even now, with you twenty feet away, it’s like he’s missing his right arm.

A piece of himself he didn’t know was gone until he met you.

“M’gonna ask her tomorrow morning,” Timo finally answers. “I know it’s last minute but that’s just how it worked out I guess.”

Nico looks over. Timo is nervously biting at the corner of his thumb, staring off into space as doubts swirl in his head. Clapping him on the back, Nico nods. “Whatever you need to do. If we gotta hold the flight, we can. If you need to stay longer, I’ll send the jet back for you. Anything Timo, I mean it.”

Then Timo is hugging him, squeezing Nico around the chest just like he used to do when they were younger. When they played hockey together and Timo would shove him into the boards, smacking him over the head and squeezing him tight.

Nico was smaller back then, but the feeling is all the same.

“Thanks man,” Timo mumbles, pulling back. “Same goes for you, anything I gotta do to help just please put a ring on that poor girl over there already.”

Nico laughs, squeezing Timo’s shoulder in thanks. “Don’t worry,” he assures, “I’m already on it.”

Him and Timo share a look of understanding. This is it, these next two days will change everything. Timo will either be walking away with the love of his life, or trying to find a way to finally move on. And Nico, well that little picture he’s had in his head of you in a white dress, swaying in his arms under the stars will be right there.

It’ll all be within reach.

Nico spends the rest of the night picturing that wedding ring on your finger.

~~~~

You should be running errands, should be gathering things and getting ready for the trip home. God knows you’ll have to triple check everything the boys pack, make sure they’re not leaving anything behind or forgetting passports.

It’s a long flight with a lot more people this time.

But you can’t bring yourself to move, to make your way downstairs and busy yourself with something else before Nico gets out of the shower.

Something’s not right. You can feel it, like a heavy weight on your chest, a crawling feeling on the back of your neck. Even before Lena’s friends mentioned it, the unease was there. Call it paranoia or intuition or whatever, but you know you’re right.

Just like you were right that day Lena and Marcelo were following you.

The texts, the plan; It doesn’t add up. Nico may believe that at the end of the day it came down to her wanting his power and revenge for leaving her. But Lena’s father worked with Rino. Even after Nico left she had stake in the business, she had been sworn into the family even before Nico knew of their arranged marriage.

She wanted something else.

Inhaling deeply, you pick up the phone from your nightstand, sliding open the screen now that Nico has disabled the password. The screen is a photo of her, a champagne flute in her manicured hands and long hair hanging over her shoulder. She’s on a balcony, the mountains green behind her. It was taken in the summer obviously, and she’s wearing a long satin dress that dips low down her back.

It’s a beautiful picture, really. But the background is what gets you. It was taken at Nico’s house, from the large open space that overlooks the grounds. He had told you that a pool was up there and in the summer they used to grill and swim a lot.

You pull up the camera roll, swipe through her photos. There’s no need to linger on them, Luca went through all the albums. At least that’s what Nico said.

It doesn’t take long to find the wallpaper photo. It’s fairly recent, taken just a few week before the cold started to settle in.

Lena had been visiting Nico’s home recently. You swipe to the one next to it. She’s not in it except for her hand, holding the champagne flute out over the balcony. It’s from the spot overlooking where you and Nico went on a walk your first day here, where you’d tackled him in the snow and goofed around until it got too cold.

You think back on the moment, on the way the air made you shiver. Was it the cold? Or was it something else?

Huffing, you drop the phone onto the bed and run your hands over your face. The tender spot on your temple aches, overwhelmed and confused. But you have to do this now, before Nico comes back to the room and realizes you’re still caught up on the stupid phone.

You don’t need him worrying over you, thinking that Lena is still haunting you and making you stress.

Picking the phone back up, you stare at the photos app. Why was she at Nico’s house? Luca runs majority of the business now with Rino acting as advisor and figurehead. There’s no business to be done at that house, it would be at Luca’s office.

Unless it was business Luca didn’t know about.

You click back to her albums, reading over the titles of them all. It’s funny how organized girls phones usually are. Nico’s camera roll is a mess, mostly pictures of you, or you and him, or you and Moose. And he doesn’t sort them or delete them. Hell he didn’t even know you have to delete photos twice….

Fingers trembling you scroll down until you get the last album. Lena’s sorted it at bottom, the recently deleted album hidden from anyone not looking for it.

Someone like Nico.

You click the album, holding your breath when random screenshots and selfies come up. Scrolling, you pause when you get to a screenshot of a text thread, all the way at the top meaning it was deleted recently.

The phone number isn’t saved but you can tell it’s a local one. There’s not a lot to the thread but panic seizes at your lungs when you read the first text.

The code is on my desk, everything is set to go. Don’t disappoint me Lena.

She hadn’t responded to it, only liking the message. The number had texted her again the next day.

Timo’s party, she scares easily.

This is who was following you that day, not Lena. And whoever it was had seen everything, knew you were freaked out and pushing Nico away. They knew exactly how to get you to run right to them.

Meaning they were familiar and experienced in this practice. Marcelo, maybe. You don’t know how long he worked for Luca, if he had been there since Rino was running everything-

Rino. Rino who has a desk and an office in that house. Rino who had picked Lena for his son. Rino who has does his very best to make you uncomfortable this whole trip.

Oh no, you think, this can’t be true. But you know it is. There’s no other way Lena and Marcelo would’ve known how to do this. Nico said it himself, they were sloppy and messy with you once they got you. But the plan leading up to that point had been flawless. Executed by someone pulling the strings from afar.

Lena had a deal with someone on the inside.

You swipe to the next photo, swallowing heavily when you realize what it is. Lena had taken a photo of the code, the one mentioned in the texts. It’s sitting on a placard, shiny and silver on an oak desk.

Anyone not looking for it would think it’s simply an interesting desk trinket, a creative nameplate. Pieced together Scrabble tiles, oddly clumped together and made of more than just letters.

R1N067

The numbers are odd, mostly because there’s no numbers in Scrabble. The tiles could be from somewhere else, not that it really matters.

What actually matters is that Nico and Luca missed a huge piece of the puzzle hidden in this phone, one that you’re not even sure you can reveal to them.

Rino tried to have you killed.

~~~~

“You ok?”

Nico tucks into the top of your head, laying a sweet kiss on your forehead. You blink, distracted and continue folding the freshly washed clothes.

“Yeah m’fine,” you respond casually, tucking socks into the extra pair of shoes had Nico brought. Sneakers that sit at the very bottom of his suitcase.

He grabs his jacket from the bed and shrugs it on, looking you up and down through his dark eyelashes. “Got some last minutes things before the flight I gotta take care of,” he says, adjusting the collar. “Which of the boys do you want me to leave?”

You don’t have to think about it long. It’s a no brainer. He’s already proven himself once this trip, got the boys together and ready for an international flight without you and Nico. He’s the one that picked you from the hospital, that effortlessly fit into the spot by your side, a seamless second hand man.

“Umm, Mercer?” You reply, as if it’s a question. The last thing you need is to look suspicious to Nico or at all nervous. He’ll drop everything to be that person for you, but this isn’t something he can be a part of.

You can’t let him.

“Not Holtzy?” He jokes, working on the buttons of his coat. “You’re trusting me with your precious baby Alex?”

Nico fits himself to your back, arms around your waist and his chin presses into your shoulder. “Think he’s hurt that you weren’t on his pong team last night. He needs bonding time with his father.”

Nico pinches your hip and you squawk, jumping away from him. Not that you get very far with him holding you to his chest. “That kid is all yours.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes. You can’t see it, but Nico’s smile widens, already knowing that you’re silently giving him attitude.

“Get out of here,” you mumble, “M’trying to pack.”

He smacks a kiss to your temple before stepping back. “Text you when I’m heading home,” he says, and you can hear him gathering his keys and phone off the dresser. “Do ya need anything?”

Yeah I need a whole day of you distracted with no questions asked, please.

“Ummm I don’t think so,” you turn to look at him, smiling at how cute he looks tucking his hair up into a beanie. “Oh actually, if I send you some stuff to get at the store will you pick it up for me?”

He frowns. “What kinda stuff?”

“For the boys,” you reply, casually. “Snacks and stuff to keep them busy on the flight.”

��They’re not five-“

“Do you want to entertain them the whole way then?”

Nico’s mouth stamps shut, lips pursing in thought and then he shakes his head. You fold the long sleeve in your hands, placing it neatly in his suitcase with a knowing look.

“Yeah ok, text them to me ok?”

He takes your arm, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. “Ok,” you agree, and he squeezes your bicep before heading towards the door.

“Be safe Nico!” You call last minute, anxiously biting at your bottom lip. His heavy footfall pauses on the stairs and then faintly you hear him call back, “Yeah you too!”

~~~~

It takes Nico another half hour to wrangle together Alex, Luke, and Jack. Timo left this morning, looking far too nauseous for you to believe his claim that he’s not hungover.

Once the house has fallen silent, you go to work. Nico’s freshly washed black layers, you slip out from where he watched you pack them in his suitcase. You didn’t bring your usual mission gear, so instead you dig out black jeans and Nico’s long wool coat, laying them out on the bed.

“Dawson!” You call, collecting your boots and the holster you’d taken from Luca after the hospital. From down the hall you hear Dawson lumber towards the bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

He’s in the doorway, knowing eyes looking over the array of clothes you’ve got on the bed. When he looks at you, it’s like he already knows exactly what you’re gonna say.

Dawson’s always been smarter than he’s given credit for.

“There’s something I need to do,” you begin, “before we leave tomorrow. And I want you to come with me.”

“What about Nico?” He asks incredulously.

Shaking your head, you say, “He can’t know. You have to promise me you won’t say a word to him Dawson.”

He’s hesitant, you can tell by the way his whole face wrinkles with uncomfortableness. Even the breath he lets outs is iffy, like his whole body is unsure of this. “I don’t know…”

“Nico can’t know.” You insist, approaching him. “I’ll tell him when it’s right, but it has to be me.”

Dawson lets you take a hold of his shoulders, your gaze reassuring and certain when you look at him. “If you’re not comfortable with that, you need to tell me. I won’t be mad, but I can’t bring you into this if you’re not certain.”

You can almost see the neurons firing in his brain, eyes sweeping over your face like he’s waiting for you to laugh, to tell him this is all a test or a joke or something. After a moment, he straightens his shoulders.

“I’m with you,” he nods, “number one priority is you, that’s what Nico always says. So yeah, I can do it.”

Smiling, you ruffle his hair. “Atta boy, go get your gear on. I’ll debrief you before we go.”

Dawson’s entire body goes point straight, face hardening and he brings his fingers up to his forehead. “Sir yes sir.” He salutes you, a toothy smile cracking on his face when you shove him out the door.

He may not be the most serious and mature of the boys, but he’d sure as hell make a good second in command.

~~~~

“I should’ve known that was you.”

You don’t turn to look at him, humming in acknowledgment as you continue to look over the items meticulously placed on his office shelves.

It wasn’t hard getting Rino out of the house nor was it hard finding exactly where in the mansion he does his work. Mercer simply called the number from Lena’s phone, his voice gruff as he threatened Rino over the phone while you tracked its exact location. The pin locked, Rino took down the fake address Mercer fed him for ‘negotiations’ and you two slipped into the house while he was out.

“Where is he?” Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you look to Rino. “My son?”

He looks amused, like he thinks this some kind of joke, you being here. He was expecting Nico probably, not you.

“You’re sloppy,” you say instead, “all the scheming and lying, and you didn’t even make an effort to hide it?”

Something dark and mocking settles in his eyes. You wonder how ever compared him to Nico, this man. Any sense of resemblance they once held now ceases to exist. “I think that’s enough, this playing pretend.” He waves a dismissive hand at you. “You’re not meant for this life so let me speak to my son now.”

Anger boils in the pit of your stomach, for you, for Nico, for this whole family. This man has got it all. Money, safety, power, but most importantly he has three incredible kids. Kids that should mean the world to him, that should’ve been his priority.

Instead, they were his property.

“You’re stupid if you think I brought Nico here.” Keeping calm, level-headed. That’s how you stay ahead, even if you’re angry or scared. They’ll never know what to do with confidence, Nico had told you once. Even if they have the upper hand, pretend you do.

“That’s fine,” Rino shrugs, “it’ll be easier to get you out of my way if you’re alone.”

His boots are heavy when he crosses the room, stomping against the hardwood as he stalks towards you. Swallowing down the spike of fear in your chest, you tilt your head at him. “Who said I’m alone?”

Mercer takes his cue, slipping in the door behind Rino as the man comes to a halt. The melted snow on his boots squeaks against the pristine floor, and you look over Rino’s shoulder, silently shushing him with a cocked eyebrow.

Rino’s already heard him though, whipping around to find Mercer in the doorway, rifle in hand. Stiffening, Mercer raises the scope and aims it at Rino’s head.

“Oh great,” he deadpans, ignoring the gun on him and turning back to you. He’s close enough now that you can see the sweat beading on his face, the coldness of his gaze. “Another American I’m supposed to be afraid of.”

“I’m Canadian,” Mercer mutters behind him at the same time you say,” Supposed to be? You are scared of me.”

It’s almost funny the way Rino stops, taken an aback by your words and you use the moment to do more damage. “That’s why you made that deal with Lena. Nico was already your wildcard child, and you didn’t like that he brought in someone new. Someone he actually delegated power to.

“Because I don’t sit back and pop out three babies for him, and because I actually care enough about him to show up here and put a gun to your head.”

If possible, Rino’s face hardens even more than its usual stoic nature. “I had to make sure my son wasn’t making another mistake!” He bellows, and it echoes throughout the large office.

“He went against everything I ever taught him, everything that was ever ingrained in him from birth. Last thing I needed was him losing what little he has to a can’t-hack-it!”

“You ingrained in him?” You scoff, moving around the desk and towards Rino. “Everything good about Nico came from the nannies and baby-sitters. You had him simply because you couldn’t handle it, you couldn’t do what he does now.”

You’ve gotten so close to Rino you can feel his anger fueled breathes on your face, smell his oaky cologne. “It’s a good thing you were never around, weren’t here to teach him how to be a fucking coward-“

Rino cuts you off with a stinging backhand, the ring on his finger catching your bottom lip and the coppery taste of blood spills onto your tongue. Before you can even think of swinging back Mercer is kicking Rino’s legs, forcing him to his knees.

“Stay right there,” Mercer spits, eyes ablaze with anger. He shoves the scope of his rifle into the back of Rino’s head. “Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Rino laughs humorlessly, glaring up at you as swipe at the blood on your chin. “That’s how it is in Jersey? You throw on red colors and get Nico’s men to kill for you? Act like you actually do something?”

“As opposed to what?” You spit at his knees, watered down blood staining the floor. “Making my kids hate me so much they push me out of the business? Pay my son’s ex to kidnap his fiancé and leave the blame on her and some random man? Hide behind everything?”

Rino opens his mouth to speak but you’re tired of hearing his voice, his excuses. “You’re a coward,” you continue, kicking at his thigh. “You have the most amazing family and you’ve thrown it all away. You don’t deserve to know Nico let alone be related to him.”

You take a step back, collecting yourself with a deep breath. Rino stays silent for the first time all day.

“Which is why you’re not going to know him anymore.” It’s the only real solution you can think of, the only fitting punishment besides death. You can’t kill Nico’s father, but you can keep him from hurting him.

“Nico is never going to see you or speak to you again. You’re not to come around my family under any circumstance.”

“You really think he’ll let you do this?” Rino mumbles, “Nico?”

“I don’t need his permission,” you say firmly, “but it’s actually insane that you ever thought you could lay a hand on me and Nico would want to be around you.

“In a way, it was merciful of me to come here instead of him. Father or not Nico would’ve torn you apart with his bare hands. I guess you wouldn’t know that though, seeing as you don’t know anything about him.”

Rino’s shoulders sag, hunching in on himself as your words sink in. It doesn’t take a genius to realize you’re right. Nico has left his family before, gone out on his own. He’d sure as hell do it again, especially for you.

“What do you want from me?” Rino finally sighs, defeated.

“I’m so glad you asked,” you faux smile at him, digging into your pocket for your phone. The voice note app is already up and you hit record. “I want to know why.”

~~~~

“Hey, we’re at the house. Where are you guys?”

Dawson glances at you, wincing when he returns his gaze back to the road in front of him. Dabbing at your busted lip with your bandana, you shift uncomfortably.

“We’re on our way home,” you say vaguely, stomach cramping. Nico’s gonna see right through it, is going to know something is wrong.

“Where did you go?” He asks, an edge in his tone.

Fluttering your eyes shut, you beg. “I can’t tell you right now, but I need you to please trust me Nico.”

All background noise that was previously filtering in through the speaker cuts off. He’s moved into another room, he’s starting to worry.

“Y/n,” he says, the use of your full name making your tongue heavy with guilt. “What happened? Are you ok?”

“Yes,” you assure insistently. “I’m fine, I’m with Dawson and he’s fine too. We just-I can’t say this to you over the phone, ok?”

Nico’s quiet for a moment. “Ok, yeah.” His voice sounds small, like it’s stuck in his chest. It’s the tone he gets when he’s overthinking, when he’s letting himself spiral. “You promise me you’re ok?”

“Yes,” you say, smiling a bit. Sometimes you don’t understand how Nico got so good at his job because he can be way too sweet for this world.

“A-and Dawson is too?”

You can see the surprise on Mercer’s face at the question, wide eyes falling to the screen of the car where Nico’s name and image is displayed.

“Yeah he’s ok,” you promise. “We’re only a few streets away so I’ll see you soon, ok?”

“Ok,” he says, sighing again. “Be safe.”

“We will.” You hang up the call, slumping back in your seat and groaning. How the fuck are you supposed to do this, to tell him that the man that was supposed to protect him has done the exact opposite.

“Y-you can’t tell him,” Mercer mumbles, and when he looks at you it’s with a sadness you’ve never seen on him before. “How the fuck are you supposed to tell him?”

Your thoughts exactly.

~~~~

Nico and the boys are in the kitchen when you and Dawson come in from the garage. At the sight of Mercer in his combat gear and the case of his gun on his shoulder, they all scramble to their feet. The sound of barstools scratching across the floors is loud in the now silent room.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

Nico is on you in an instant, the door barely being shut behind you before he’s crowding you against it.

“I’m ok,” you say, but he’s grabbing at your face with soft fingers, crouching down until those big brown eyes are right in front of yours. The sight makes emotion swell in your chest, and you have to try hard not to cry for him.

“Tell me who did this?”

His thumb brushes over the wound and you hiss, squeezing your eyes shut. Behind him, Mercer drops his gun onto the counter, beginning to unstrap his weapons.

“I will,” you swear, “but I need it to be just us, ok?”

Nico’s jaw clenches, eyes sweeping over your face and he rises to his full height. “Everybody out,” he calls over his shoulder. “Now.”

Jack and Luke grumble something unintelligible but they shuffle out of the kitchen, dragging Alex with them. Mercer finishes dropping his gear onto the table, casting you a long glance before he too makes his way to the dining room.

“Nico,” Mercer says softly, caught in the doorway. That sadness from before bleeds into his eyes, and he takes a slow breath. “I-I love you, ok?”

He’s caught off guard by the sentiment, blinking in confusion but then he’s nodding thoughtfully. “I love you too Dawson.”

It’s not something the boys say to each other often, the statement going more shown than spoken. The boys used to tease him when he’d say it to you, joke that they didn’t even know he knew how to say those words.

The kitchen falls silent after Dawson leaves, and then Nico is looking back at you. He looks…sad. Everything about him is droopy, the pout of his lips, the way his eyes have gone all big and moony.

“Y-you didn’t call me,” he whispers, breaking your heart. “Why wouldn’t you call me?”

He stumbles back when you throw yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck and tucking your face into his shoulder. But he doesn’t hesitate to hold you, arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you into his chest.

“I’m sorry Nico,” you mutter, “I’m so sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says fiercely, “just tell me what happened? Who touched you?”

You close your eyes as if that’ll shield you from the next words out of your mouth. “It was your dad, Nico.”

His whole body tenses, a stuttered breath leaving his lips and you can feel the way his hold on you slackens. “What?”

“It was Rino,” you pull back from him, digging into your pockets for your phone and Lena’s. “All of it was him.” You hold them out to him, avoiding looking into his eyes as he takes them from your hand.

“It was in her deleted photos,” you explain, “texts with Rino, the code off his desk. He was the one that instructed her to take me, he set it all up.”

A hand cups your jaw, urges you to look up at him and you suck in a nervous breath. It sucks and it’s gonna hurt him, but he has to hear it from you. “I-I don’t want to see it on there. I want you to tell me what happened.”

So you do. You tell him about Lena’s friends at the bar, about how they seemed to be warning you of her deal. Then you tell him about the phone, about how you kept it because you still didn’t understand how Lena and Marcelo got the plan and resources to kidnap you. That you went through it this morning when he was in the shower, that her camera roll was filled with photos of her recently at his parent’s house. That it felt like someone was watching you that day you were there.

And you tell him about Mercer. That you sent the other boys with him because you needed someone who would follows your orders perfectly, who would be smart and loyal and strong. Someone who would lie to him if needed for you. You lay out the details of how you got into the house and found his office, how Rino came in and fought with you, slapped you. That Mercer made sure he didn’t do anything else.

Lastly, you tell him the why.

Rino had kids with the intention that they’d uphold his reputation, they’d keep his values and beliefs in mind always. And when Nico left, he disgraced them. That to Rino, that was a shame on the whole family. Nico had gotten lucky with his success there, but Rino didn’t think it would last.

And he thought it’d be you that ruined it. Because romantic partners, husband and wives are not to be mixed in with it. They’re meant to be seen and not heard, meant to be symbolic in the business of old fashioned values.

Nico was going to ruin his success, the family he built by letting you have a real role in the inner workings.

So Rino got ahold of Lena the night he heard Nico brought you to Switzerland. She had been staying at the house, was wanting to have a role in the business again. Rino offered her the role Nico was originally supposed to have in Germany, but first she needed to get you out of the picture and Nico back to Europe.

It was her trial, her test into getting back in. And it was Rino’s test of you.

Nico, to your surprise, doesn’t react at all as you talk. He’s like a still oil-painting, one hand clutching yours and the other holding the phones. The only giveaway that he’s still listening is the way his eyes shift between yours.

“What did you do to him?” Nico asks after you’ve finished.

“I-“ you swallow heavily. “I told him that if he ever came near you or our family that I’d kill him. And if he doubted me, he shouldn’t doubt you’d do the same thing.”

Nico blinks, a deep sadness settling into his gaze. It’s a different look than his usual grumpiness, like it’s heavier. You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting, maybe anger or vengeance. But not this.

This look that makes him appear so small, like a child that’s lost his mom in the grocery store. Lost, he looks so lost.

“Your poor face,” he whispers, glassy eyes falling to your lip. His thumb strokes next to your mouth again, careful to not disturb it. “I should kill him.”

You don’t say anything. You don’t know what you could possibly say to that. Nico doesn’t seem to be looking for a response though, continuing on under his breath.

“He deserves it. No one hurts you and gets to walk away, no one gets to treat you like that.”

Nico brings you into his chest again, caging you in with his thick biceps. You hold him tightly, trying to ignore the fact that Nico isn’t really coming to terms with what happened, and on top of that, you’ve gotta find a way to break the news to Luca and Nina.

And worst of all, Katja Hischier.

[creechurrblogs]

Day 7: Wings

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

had quite the night drive earlier this evening.

[cinnasweetss]

Out Of Bounds (M) - sim jaeyun

PAIRINGS: jake x female reader, afab reader

SYNOPSIS: in which jake is your little brothers best friend that knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you.

GENRE: smut, pwp.

CONTENT: jake is super whiny, one-sided pining, reader is slightly older, overuse of the word ‘noona’, jake def has a thing for older women, mentions of drinking, masturbation (m), mentions non consensual groping, mentions of verbal threats.

jake is everything but a pleasure to be around. endless flirting, groping, threats aimed at your boyfriend, and other unspeakable things. all done where no one can hear you beg him to just leave you alone, just this once. or hear him grumble about how much he likes you, and won’t stop.

jake is like your brother too, just a little bit more annoying. although his actions can be a bit much, you know he’s a kind hearted boy deep down with pure intentions. even if his actions can be a bit much. it’s nothing you can’t handle.

your never bring this up to your brother either. never would you deny him of a friend just because he has a very insatiable desire for you. boys will be boys! your friends say their siblings friends develop little crushes on them too. but jake’s feelings and wants for you are not little.

so, it’s no surprise that he calls you late at night after a night of drinking with your younger brother. overcome by the feeling of needing to hear his best friends older sister. just to settle him. that’s it.

your phone rings next to your pillow, pulling you from your slumber. it takes a minute for you to roll over, sighing when you pick up your phone and see ‘sim jake’ written across the screen.

“hmm? what is it?”

you know he’s been drinking. that’s why you don’t hesitate to answer. “Just…thinking about my noona.” his noona. you’re always referred to that way. his voice is slow and slurred, hinting at just how much he’s drank by now. “are you drunk?”

you have to say you're flattered. extremely. to be on his mind even when he’s drunk and has likely been around plenty of drunk women says a lot. “a lil- little bit..." you hear an exhale come through the speaker, and another noise follow. "jake, how much did you drink? do you need me to come get you?" you’re sitting up out of your bed, ready to throw on clothes and leave just incase he does need you. there’s a short pause before you hear his voice again.

“Can you- fuck... can you say my name again?" he sounds out of breath, and you can faintly hear some very suspicious sounds coming from the other end. those words mark a new boundary that’s been broken. adding to the multitude of broken boundaries. "what are you doing?" his tone sounded very suggestive, and it makes you stop, pressing your phone closer to your ear. "Thinkin' about you, noona..." he responds, and this time, he moans. "Jake..." you don’t mean to feed into him. not all all. you're just utterly shocked and at a loss for words. but most of all, worried about this would affect your relationship with him. "oh, fuck.” he's shameless in the way he moans, loud and whiny, begging you to say more. "tell me, noona..." he starts, moaning directly into your ear... "y-your panties...what color are they?"

“they’re…red..”

"ahhh, shit." you can hear him struggle with himself like he's imagining you in red panties , likely doing something lewd. "today...in the kitchen. did you like it? when I touched you?" ‘touched’ is too sweet of a word to describe what he did to you. groped, manhandled, fondled, is better. overpowering you when you tried to push his hands away from your chest, beg him to stop before your brother sees. tell him he must learn how to control himself.

“you cant...touch me like that...it isn’t right.” those are words you’ve said to him a million times before. words that go through one ear and out the other without a second thought. "cant help it. fuck, fuck, i'm so close! keep talking, please noona!" you can hear him increase speed in whatever he's doing, which, sounds exactly like he's jerking off.

"you're so pretty, too pretty, noona..." he rambles on in his fit of pleasure. telling you how much he wants to kiss you, and fuck you between very loud moans. "wish I could cum in you instead...agh! I gotta have you...gotta make you mine." his words bring heat to your cheeks despite the vulgarity of it all. "Jake..." you start, the other seemingly seconds apart from coming undone. "yes? yes, yes, noona!" he pants over the phone, whining and struggling to hold himself back from cumming before you get to respond. "maybe one day." those words from you are all it takes, a "fuck i'm gonna cum! i'm cumming! fuck!" being yelled into the speaker as he releases every pent up emotion he has for you in the form of one intense orgasm.

sim jaeyun, is way Out Of Bounds.

[bangtanintotheroom]

Just Like Candy (M)

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

🔊 candy - doja cat (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: S.Coups x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 7.3k

• Summary: Following a breakup, Seungcheol is looking for a distraction for the night. You catch his eye with your red lips and the rest is history.

• Warnings/themes: mentions of a breakup, sulky Cheol 🥲, his friends are real ones, drinking, swearing, one night stand, flirting, making out, dirty talk, handjobs, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), c*me swallowing, strength kink, manhandling, hint of begging, OC’s lips are often compared to 🍒

• Notes: Welp, here it is; my first Cheol fic! I didn't plan to take this long to finish, but between work, getting sick and my bestie's birthday, ya girl has been busyyy 🥲 but here he is, so enjoy! 🎉 much thanks to @hobeemin for the beta! 💖

Seungcheol was barely paying attention to his friends' conversation, trying desperately not to go onto his ex’s Instagram and check her recent stories. But every time his thumb hovers over the multi-colored circle with her smiling face, the recent events play through his mind. It leaves a bitterness on his tongue, which ends up with him closing the app for what must have been the fifth time.

“Hyung, get off of there.”

He looked up to see Wonwoo giving him a stare of sternness mixed with worry, feeling sheepish that he was caught red-handed. Then again, he must have noticed earlier and only chose to say something now.

“Sorry.”

Wonwoo sighed, leaning in and speaking lowly, “If you keep going on there, I’m going to confiscate your phone.”

Seungcheol’s brows knitted at the warning.

“And what if someone tries to reach me?”

“Then I’ll give it back, but until then, you won’t have phone privileges.”

He couldn’t help but click his tongue. As annoying as the threat was, he secretly appreciated Wonwoo’s way of keeping him from doing something he might regret, like reaching out to his ex less than two weeks later rather than continuing to play it cool.

It wasn’t heartbreak, per se, just a loss of familiarity and a routine that bothered him. He was used to checking up on her at certain times, often receiving the same energy back. Plus, the lack of cuddling and deficiency of sex was about to start making him restless.

He appreciated the tough love because the rest of the men in the car showed their support by dragging him to an unruly house party that he wasn’t even sure he’d enjoy.

“Yah, is he on his phone again?”

Wonwoo replied to Seungkwan’s question from the front with, “He sure is.”

Every other occupant groaned in exasperation, Chan peering around him to scold, “Seungcheol-hyung, focus! You’re supposed to have fun with us tonight, not pine over her!”

“Just block her already!”

Seungcheol quickly snapped at Joshua’s quip, “No, because then I’ll look bitter.”

“So?”

Seungkwan turned around in the passenger seat to look directly at him, seeming to be about to give the most unhelpful advice ever.

“Hyung, you want my suggestion?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Fuck her feelings, respectfully—” He was quick to throw in that word after the elder’s face began twisting in displeasure. “—she decided to end it, and she’s out there living her best life while you’re moping around. Be selfish for once and focus on your well-being!”

Chan joined in, “Exactly! Are you going to let her distract you from having a good time with us tonight?”

The eldest wanted to fight back on instinct, but the more he stewed on his friends’ words, the more he realized they had a point. What was the use of getting in his feelings? He’d just end up being the downer of the group and waste the effort they put in to have him get dressed and come out. Even though it had been a while since he went to a party of this size, the tiniest part of him was excited. His ex was the type to avoid get-togethers like this, so he often put off the guys’ invites in favor of pleasing her.

But she wasn’t around anymore…

He sighed heavily. Hopefully, he’d be distracted enough that she wouldn’t run through his mind until he returned to his bed and deleted more of their couple pictures.

“No, I’m not.”

His response was met with a round of cheers, drowning out the hip-hop blaring from the speakers.

“That’s the spirit!”

Joshua took advantage of the red light to turn and shoot a proud smile.

“We just want you to have fun, yeah? So quit sulking.”

Seungcheol did himself no favors by narrowing his eyes and pushing his lower lip out.

“I’m not sulking.”

As expected, Joshua gave an eye roll amidst the chorus of laughter, turning back around to continue driving. Seungcheol decided to get more involved in the conversation for the rest of the trip, only glancing at his phone for notifications. Not once did he hop onto Instagram, choosing to entertain a heated debate over who would be the first casualty tonight. His money was on Seungkwan, who fought against the accusation with insistence.

Either way, he hoped his friends continued to distract him for the rest of the night like this.

The plan to distract Seungcheol was going poorly. Actually, no. Poorly was an understatement.

It was going horrendously.

Everything was fine when they stepped into the party. It was easy to get accustomed to the noise and the crowd of bodies, especially once a red cup was shoved into his hand. One of his favorite songs was even playing, his foot automatically tapping to the beat while listening to Joshua and Chan converse.

But it went horribly awry when a drunk Seokmin and Soonyoung bounded up to them, asking where his other half was.

His reaction was as instantaneous as his friends’, yet more subtle. Seungcheol tensed up and clenched his jaw, fingertips making a dent in the plastic cup. Of course, the duo was too far gone to see his sudden change in mood; they only blinked in confusion when Seungkwan began yelling at them for their goof. Just as Wonwoo started explaining why their greeting was poorly thought out, the eldest quickly excused himself, turning and making a beeline for the much less crowded kitchen.

He wasn’t sure if he needed something more substantial to drink or to remove himself from a messy situation. Either way, he ended up staring blankly into the icy assortment of beers in front of one of the many coolers.

So much for distracting himself tonight.

“Excuse me?”

A steady voice brought him out of his wallowing, looking over his shoulder to see a young woman standing behind him, pointing to the cooler.

“Mind if I get in there?”

“O-Oh. Sorry.”

Seungcheol swiftly stepped aside, feeling a bit abashed at getting in the way. You didn’t seem to mind too much though, sending a smile as you squatted down to begin rummaging through your options.

“Indecisive?”

He blinked at your query.

“Huh?”

You continued speaking while rifling through, “You were staring down here for a hot minute.”

Oh shit, was he? Damn. He must have looked like a party pooper, no doubt sulking as he tried to get himself back into a festive mood.

“Uh, yes, let’s call it that…”

A giggle escaped at the unconvincing reply. Within a few seconds, you popped back up with two different-looking bottles in each hand.

“Are you more of a fruity or bitter kind of guy?”

“Bitter.”

You held out one of the beers, waiting until he took it with a bit of confusion mixed with gratitude.

“Thank you…”

“Of course. You look like you need it.”

Seungcheol huffed, shoulders sagging a bit as he smiled pensively.

“That bad, huh?”

A nod was given, albeit paired with a sympathetic look.

“Yeah.”

He sighed at your observation, the urge to crawl away and hide in a corner until the party ended coming strong. This was another thing he wanted to avoid: the pity people would give him. In the words of Chan, he looked like a lost puppy whenever he caught him thinking about his ex. Surely, that’s what you were reminded of as you continued to gaze up at him.

“My friends dragged me here to distract me from…recent events, but I don’t think it’s working very well.”

“I can see that. I rarely see people not enjoying themselves at one of Seokmin’s parties.”

Your words might have had sincerity, but Seungcheol could only feel more insecure. He stuck out like a sore thumb; that was the last thing he wanted to happen tonight.

Just as he was about to excuse himself to wallow in misery, you asked something that caught him off-guard.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but blink rapidly, ensuring he didn’t mishear you.

A complete stranger offering an ear?

“No, I couldn’t burden you; I’m sure you came to have fun.”

But you were undeterred, shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s fine, really. I could use some quiet time—” You grinned without an ounce of regret. “—and sometimes it’s good to have a stranger’s ear, no?”

Well…you weren’t wrong. Although Seungcheol wasn’t expecting to find a willing participant at a house party, of all places. But you seemed eager to help, and God knows his friends have probably heard enough of his lamenting by now.

A shrug of his shoulders was followed by, “If you’re offering, sure.”

Your smile stretched even wider at his approval, reaching for his free hand with your own before leading him to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the room.

“Step into my office.”

“Let me guess…a breakup?”

Straight to the point.

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

He needed to take a swig to answer this.

“Two years.”

It was no surprise to see a grimace on your face.

“Yikes. My condolences.”

Seungcheol wasn’t sure if he tried to ease you or himself with the comforting smile he gave.

“Thank you, but breakups happen all the time. I’ll be over it soon.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck right now. Nothing wrong with wallowing in misery.”

He scoffed lightly, “Trust me, I’ve been doing more than enough of that.”

You hummed, seeming to understand.

“So was she ‘the one’?”

Seungcheol paused in raising his beer bottle, thick brows scrunching as he took a few seconds to ponder before shaking his head.

“No, I wouldn’t say that. It was serious, but not that serious.”

You nodded, yet there was a bout of silence afterward while he stewed on how to express his feelings since the first night his former girlfriend removed her possessions from his place.

“I think it’s…like something is missing. Like I was so used to having her around and there to talk to or spend time with, it feels off.”

“You got comfortable.”

Seungcheol continued, “I did. And now she’s not here anymore.”

Saying this admission out loud pulled the deepest of sighs from his lungs.

“It’s just going to take some getting used to.”

“But you’ll be okay…one day.”

Your sincerity in tone made his head turn, and he saw you gazing at him with something akin to optimism.

“It might not be tomorrow. Might not be next week. But it’ll get easier one day and you’ll be able to think about her without feeling like you’re missing out. Trust me—“ The way your mouth quirked humorlessly on one side as you glanced through the window spoke volumes. “—I know.”

Seungcheol watched as your eyes lingered on the house, seeming to allude to a specific person. He couldn’t help but turn to see if he could figure it out. His answer was received when he spotted a handsome man with cropped black hair getting close to a giggling woman. Sure enough, the look in your eyes was close to what he had expressed lately.

No wonder you offered to hear him out.

“I’m sorry.”

His words broke your trance, turning back to blink rapidly before chuckling.

“Thank you, but it was for the best. He wasn’t exactly the most faithful.”

Seungcheol frowned. “Ouch.”

“Mhm. Well, it is what it is. Now we’re free to fool around with whoever we want, so everyone wins!”

He couldn’t hold back a small laugh at your exuberant claim.

“You have a point.”

The grin you directed at him made his own wider. He didn’t expect a stranger to ease the trouble brewing inside tonight, but your perspective on the situation was refreshing. If anything, his determination to enjoy the party to the fullest returned. You probably wanted to get back to whatever you were doing before, too…

“Thank you for offering your ear. I’m sure you want to return to the party now, right?”

Just as Seungcheol started shifting to stand up, you held up your free hand to halt him.

“I don’t mind hanging with you some more. My friends are kind of bouncing around and doing their own thing, but if you want to go to yours, I’ll let you go.”

…but did he want to go to them?

“I…Honestly, I’m not in a rush, but please don’t feel obligated to stick around.”

Your expression shifted into one of ease.

“No obligation on my end. I kind of…want to keep talking to you.”

Seungcheol’s dark eyes widened at your admission, taken off-guard. “You do?”

“Mhm. You seem cool, uh—”

Right. Neither of you had given your names.

“Seungcheol.”

You quickly clasp the hand he held out, shaking it with a smile.

“Y/N.”

Your hold lingered for a bit, fingers dragging along his own when you finally released, making the tiniest of tugs occur in his stomach. He couldn’t help but be a little excited that you wanted to keep talking to him, expecting to go your separate ways after he vented. The mutual feeling gave him a burst of emotion that needed an outlet, excusing himself to grab another beer for the both of you.

Your ex was still in the kitchen, tongue now tangled with the other woman. Seungcheol couldn’t help but scrunch his nose a little at the sight, mainly thanks to what you had told him earlier. But he fought against the urge to toss an ice cube from the cooler at his head and left with a bottle in each hand, giving one to you as soon as he returned.

“Thank you!” Once he got back in his seat, you held your drink up in the air. “To a fun night! Oh, and fuck our exes.”

Seungcheol laughed at your ad-lib, joining in by tapping his bottle against yours. The two of you moved onto much lighter topics, getting to know each other while sitting on the quiet patio. You were better acquainted with the party host than he was, mentioning how you tended to attend most of Seokmin’s get-togethers. He wondered if he had ever passed by you before or vice versa; a shame it took this long to meet.

At some point, the gap between your bodies had dwindled, knees bumping into each other as you showed off pictures of your pets. The way you cooed and had stars in your eyes as he scrolled through his endless gallery of Kkuma pics didn’t fail to warm his heart. And seeing how your chest puffed while bragging about your own fur baby only made it worse.

But then the phones went down and the mood shifted eventually.

The alcohol and good conversation led to Seungcheol noticing little things about you. Like how you rubbed your collarbones whenever you were deep in thought. Or that you kept grabbing onto his thick forearm each time you wanted to emphasize your words, eyes wide and determined for them to sink in. He didn’t mind the touch at all, but it started encroaching into dangerous territory when he began focusing on your mouth a little too hard.

He wasn’t sure if it was the shape of your lips or how the thick gloss sat on them, but looking at them reminded him of cherries. Trying to ensure he responded to your words was becoming difficult by the minute, fighting the urge to lean down and sink his teeth in. It didn’t help whenever the lusciousness parted and showed off pearly whites and hints of tongue.

“Seungcheol.”

Out of nowhere, you called his name, making him jump as he tried to act like he wasn’t hardcore staring at your lips.

“Yes?”

The cherries tilted upwards as a hand came up and gently tapped a knuckle against his exposed forehead.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Your compliment and touch only made his cheeks flare, mouth parting as he prepared to express himself in a way that wasn’t corny or desperate.

“Your lips are gorgeous.”

So much for that.

But you seemed to be pleasantly surprised at his admission, grinning wider as you tucked a hair behind your ear.

“Yeah? Thank you, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not all…”

Seungcheol swallowed hard as you challenged him, wanting to know precisely what he had running through his mind.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

Confidence was more present this time, watching your head tilted in thinly veiled curiosity.

“Oh?” A foot came up and caressed his ankle as you continued, “What’s stopping you?”

Well, he wasn’t the type to just go in for something like that without asking first, so—

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

You looked out into the backyard, humming as you pretended to be thinking deeply about your answer, even though the rubbing sensation on his leg hinted at it.

“Mm…yeah, I do—” Finally, your eyes landed on his again, a sparkle in them that wasn’t there before. “maybe I want more than that.”

Seungcheol felt a heat building inside that had been dormant for too long. This interaction was going in a completely unplanned direction, but surprisingly, he didn’t find himself against it.

“Do…do you?”

The nod you gave had zero shame and hesitation behind it.

Ah. Well. There wasn’t any room for confusion, but he had to get this out.

“I’m not looking for anything serious, I—“

But you halted him by putting your finger on his lips.

“I know. Neither am I. We’re just distracting each other—“ A simple smile. “—right?”

Thank goodness you were on the same page.

“Right.”

Pleased with that, you removed your finger before standing up, setting your empty bottle on the nearby table. You then held your hand out, waiting until Seungcheol took it and stood up, following close as you led him back inside the house. The two of you had to zigzag through the crowd, narrowly avoiding dancing bodies. Finally, the stairs were within reach, increasing his heart as you guided him. He looked back into the crowd, barely catching a glimpse of his friends before you continued to pull him out of sight.

When they realized he disappeared, there was definitely going to be some severe questioning later on.

You led him into one of the bedrooms, making sure there were no unwelcome occupants first. When Seungcheol pulled the door in behind him, you quickly spun around, directing the coyest of looks up.

“You might want to lock it; I’d hate for us to get interrupted.”

Realizing that you had a point, he swiftly turned the lock sideways, finding the act and noise a little more comforting. Being walked in on was never fun, especially when you were fooling around in a stranger’s bed.

As soon as he finished, you reached for his hands before stepping back to stand in front of the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Last chance to back out.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but knit his brows a bit as he pondered. Was he really about to fool around with a complete stranger?

This was out of character for him. Even when he was single, getting in bed with someone he had only known for a couple of hours was a thought he never entertained. But this was now and he was, to put it lightly, yearning for some physical contact that would keep him distracted for the night.

And quite frankly, he didn’t want to say no to you.

“Seungcheol?”

The light call of his name brought him out of his thoughts, looking down to see you gazing up with mild concern.

“You alright?”

He was quick to nod and smile reassuringly, replying, “Yes. Sorry, just…got in my head for a bit.”

Your expression eased up, tongue clicking as you squeezed his hands.

“Well, we can’t have any more of that. C’mon.”

You maneuvered Seungcheol around so his back was facing the bed now.

“Quit thinking about your ex and focus.”

“Believe me, I’m trying. I might need a little more help on your end.”

His voice hints at encouragement, shifting you into a more domineering mood. Your cherry lips twist into an undaunted grin as you let go of his hands.

“Of course. Even if it’s for a moment—“ All of a sudden, he felt a push to his chest and found himself falling to the bed before looking up at your salacious smile. “—I’ll make you forget all about her.”

You crawled up and on to straddle his lap, making his breath hitch at the intimate contact. With your palms planted next to his head, you shot him a wicked ruby smile before leaning down to place your lips on his own. The kiss is quick to build back up whatever arousal he had lost on the way here, helped by the way your hips started ever so slowly to grind down. You’re in a perfect position to have your clothed center on top of his concealed cock, each ounce of friction awakening it.

Moans started to fill the dim room with each second that passed. Seungcheol found himself hesitating to lay his hands on you, too used to having them on another body instead. But then his brain was quick to remind him that there was no need to hold back.

And so he rested his palms on your waist, playing it safe for now.

But you didn’t let him remain stationary for long, breaking the kiss to place your hands on top of his and whisper, “Don’t be shy.”

The encouragement was a helpful trigger, fingers roaming your body as soon as you let go. He carefully ran them up and down the curves of your waist before taking a chance and moving them to the front and upwards. A quick glance was given to your face as he went and cupped your covered breasts, biting his lip at the soft sound you made. Giving a light squeeze earned him a louder noise and a roll of your hips.

“Knew your hands would feel nice…”

Your husky whisper only spurred him on, sliding one of his hands back down and around to give your bottom the same attention.

“Did you?”

“Mhm—” A firmer grope interrupted your sentence. “—kept staring while you were holding your beer.”

Seungcheol chuckled lightly at your admission, glad he wasn’t the only one fixating on mundane body parts. You allowed him to continue feeling your body, dipping down for an occasional kiss, only to halt him eventually. When his brows furrowed in confusion, your red lips curled as you moved down to sit on his thighs.

“I have to get my hands on you ASAP.”

There was no objection on his end as he removed his hands, letting them rest to the side as you got a feel of him. The heat of your skin penetrating his shirt brought a welcome warmth to his veins. He almost forgot what it felt like to be touched by another, feeling like it had been way too long. Before the relationship ended, he had gone a few weeks without being intimate. Only now was he realizing how badly he needed this.

You ventured downwards, nudging the hem of his tee up until a sliver of stomach and his belt buckle showed. A tap above his waistband brought his eyes to yours.

“You still sure about this?”

Seungcheol blinked at you checking in, not expecting it. But it was much appreciated, even though his answer was still—

“Yeah.”

That was all you needed to continue, smirking as you started to work on loosening the belt. It didn’t take long for you to get through to undo his fly, making his heart pound hard enough to rupture his eardrums nearly. It takes a good amount of self-control for Seungcheol not to jump when your hand slips into his underwear. And it takes even more for him to stay steady when fingers wrap around his cock.

“Can barely wrap my hand around you.”

Your hushed observation made him twitch in your grasp, pulling in his lower lip when you slipped his length out. You released him to spit into your palm, replacing your hold before beginning to stroke slowly. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it came out. Soon enough, soft grunts left his mouth.

“Are you distracted now?”

Seungcheol licked his lips and hummed, “Yes, very distracted.”

The giggle you gave preceded your mouth, leaning up to start giving him kisses again, multitasking efficiently. When you seemed to get your fill of his tongue, you parted and crawled down his body until you were face to face with his fully stiff dick. It couldn’t help but give a jerk at the devious smirk you shot him.

“May I?”

Fuck if he would say no.

“Go ahead.”

His backing spurred you into action, giving his cock a kiss at the base before using your tongue to run alongside every inch. The sigh that left Seungcheol carried so much behind it. The weight from the last few weeks and tonight escaped as you lap him up with attention that he didn’t realize he was missing until now. There was never a dull moment with your mouth, making his hips buck occasionally and quiet groans fill the room.

He managed to keep most of himself under control until you took him past your lips, forcing his fingers to dig into whoever’s comforter was underneath. The tight heat and wetness around his dick eventually made his digits come up to weave into your hair, giving you a bit of guidance. You didn’t seem to mind as a moan vibrated, sending a shiver down his spine.

Seungcheol forgot about whatever was happening outside of this bedroom for a while. He couldn't care less that there was a party going on downstairs and at least one of his friends might be looking for him. They dragged him here; the least they could do was let him have some fun of his own.

But the best part was that his ex-girlfriend didn’t pass through his mind once.

A sharp and familiar pang soon came in his groin, forcing him to choke out, “Y/N, Y/N, I’m so close—”

You looked up at his warning before pulling off with a popping sound to ask, “You wanna come in my mouth?”

The offer made his jaw drop and his cock twitch hard, swallowing down his shock in order to answer you.

“I— Up to you.”

A knowing expression washed over your face, smeared cherry lips quirking.

“Judging by your reaction, I’ll take it as a yes. Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

You swiftly returned to your previous position, letting a hand join in stroking what was still out this time. Seungcheol didn’t even get a second to process what you said before you continued pleasuring him, jumbling his brain as he got closer and closer to the end. It didn’t take long for his entire body to tense up, swearing out loud while he spilled into your mouth. His vision was spotty as he orgasmed, only clearing up when he went limp on the bed, panting hard.

Damn.

You definitely came through on your promise of distraction.

When he was finally back on Earth, you sat up, giving him a curious look.

“Did that help?”

Seungcheol lifted his head from the bed, chuckling breathlessly at your question.

“Fuck yes.”

A giggle that contradicted what you were previously doing to him escaped, your body wiggling side to side a bit.

“Good! I hate to disappoint.”

“Believe me, you didn’t.”

Your chest puffed out in triumph, looking like you were ready to receive a gold star for your hard work. At this point, you should have split up and returned to your respective groups. But Seungcheol found his instinct to return the favor rising to the surface.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

Forcing himself to sit up and look you in your eyes, he licked his lips before asking, “Do you…need me to help you out?”

Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

“You…how?”

He’s already come this far; he might as well lay all the chips down.

“I could eat you out.”

How your hand flew up to land over your mouth had him wonder if he overstepped his boundaries. Maybe you just wanted to give him his and get out.

“I…I mean, you don’t have to. We could just end it here…”

Hearing you trail off with uncertainty only pushed Seungcheol further. The need to have his mouth on somewhere other than your lips was blazing in his veins. He just missed pleasuring another.

With his bottom lip pushed out and his dark eyes looking up in a specific way, he made a final plea for his case.

“Just…consider it part of the distraction. Please?”

Yes, Choi Seungcheol was nearly begging to eat a stranger’s pussy.

But much to his relief, the light laugh you gave lacked mocking. No longer hiding your mouth, you smiled coyly and cooed, “Well, if you’re insisting…”

Perking up at your approval, he took hold of your jaw with both hands, giving you a long peck. He could feel you giggling during it, becoming louder when he pulled off to take a firm hold of your hips. You weren’t given a second to ask where to move before he lifted and practically manhandled you onto your back. The look you directed up at him was filled with surprise and a hazy lust.

“So strong.”

Seungcheol smirked at your dreamy tone, waiting for your legs to spread before sitting between them. He wasted little time in reaching for the hem of your dress, languidly rolling it up until he got a clear view of your panties.

And the large wet spot in the middle of it.

“Shit.”

You wiggled your hips at his gruff swear, teasing, “Don’t be so surprised.”

He raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not leaving you like this.”

Whatever mischief that would paint your words evaporated when you felt his knuckles run up and down your clothed center.

“A gentleman, aren’t you?”

Seungcheol grunted after seeing the spot grow larger, “Sure, let’s call it that.”

Not wanting to keep you waiting any longer, he maneuvered down to rest his head between your thighs. Even though he wanted to go straight to business, you deserved a little build-up as well. So Seungcheol planted soft kisses on your inner thighs, trailing up until his nose nearly brushed against you. He sped things up only when a whine of impatience came from above.

Reaching up to hook a finger under the fabric, he pulled it to the side and let it rest as he saw your dripping folds for a moment. But then he was quick to lean in and get to work.

He started off light at first, using the tip of his tongue to see what tickled your fancy. Soft hums left your mouth as your lover for the night, exploring every inch of skin. Seungcheol remained content with the gentle sounds until the need to hear more came over, pushing him to apply a little more pressure to make you louder.

“Mnh—”

“Doing alright up there?”

You hummed pleasantly, “Just wonderful. Keep it up.”

Seungcheol chuckled at your reply, using your encouragement to fuel his actions. He got a little more creative with his mouth, especially when it came to your clit. Closing his lips around it and sucking gently brought a stronger reaction out of you this time. He could feel a hand come down onto the back of his head before fingers buried into his dark locks.

“Right there, baby—”

A short groan vibrated against you from that. He made sure not to let up on what you wanted, finding that he had to use one of his arms to hold down your twitching hips at one point. He was starting to think that you had a thing for muscular guys, judging by your earlier reaction from being flipped over and how you giggled breathlessly from his recent move.

He continued to indulge in the taste of you until he felt the lightest of tugs on his hair. Pulling off with a pop, Seungcheol raised a thick brow.

“You good?”

“Uh huh, but—“ Your tongue ran along your bottom red lip. “—you mind doing me a favor?”

His eyes squinted playfully. “As long as it doesn’t involve feet or anything extreme, no.”

A laugh sounded while you released his strands and tapped his forehead.

“Dork. I want your fingers in me. That too extreme for you?”

The pang that hit his stomach influenced him to shake his head no.

“Good.”

Now you patted him, laying back and relaxing as you waited for him to follow through on his promise. Seungcheol used his free hand to sneak under his chin and pressed the tip of his index finger between your folds. Once he found your entrance, a glance into your eyes was given, receiving a nod in return. He began sliding inside, biting his lip at how you seemed to suck him in. You were wet enough that there was little resistance, making an obscene sound that brought a tingle down his spine.

Starting to thrust moderately, your louder moans filled the dim room. Seungcheol had to apply more pressure with the arm on your hips, nearly being thrown off by a strong buck. He got distracted by watching how you reacted to the friction. But then he remembered how much you also enjoyed his mouth and bent down to get back to work.

You were gracious enough to let him get his fill of you, so he wanted to ensure you got your distraction as well.

“S-Seungcheol—”

He didn’t know how much time had passed before your strangled call of his name cut into the fog, releasing your pulsating bud from his wet lips to rasp, “What’s wrong?”

Your hand darted down to press his mouth back against it, whimpering, “Don’t stop, gonna come—”

You didn’t need to say anymore.

Seungcheol continued licking and sucking, just the way you liked, ignoring how his jaw and finger started cramping up. Thankfully, it didn’t take that long to feel you clamp down tight, crying out as your thighs trembled next to his head. He kept the same pace, waiting until you pushed at his head to prevent overstimulation. Once the trembling of your body died down, he slipped his digit out and sat up, giving your hip a careful rub. The touch brought your attention down from the ceiling to him, eyes hazy with bliss and wonder.

An expression that brought the cheekiest of grins to his face.

“How was that?”

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to figure your words out.

“She’s missing out.”

It took a moment for Seungcheol to process what you said, but he laughed once he did, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“She is, isn’t she?”

The two of you shared another laugh before he felt his back pocket vibrate. Blinking, he reached in and slipped out his phone, frowning at the message on the screen.

[Wonu]: where’d you go??? We’re leaving soon

“Friends looking for you?”

Seungcheol looked up, nodding.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re about to head out.”

A sigh left your lips, sitting up to give him a cherry-colored pout.

“Darn. I was having so much fun with you.”

His ears reddened at your complaint, grinning bashfully.

“Same.”

Tapping your foot against his thigh, you hurried back to adjust your clothing, leaving him to respond to Wonwoo’s text.

[Cheol]: my bad, hanging out with someone

[Cheol]: be down in a few minutes

When he received a thumbs up, Seungcheol followed suit, standing up to tuck himself back in and smooth out any wrinkles on his shirt. He didn’t want to be super obvious when he left the bedroom. Just as he finished, he turned to find you standing and facing him, looking up with scrutinizing eyes.

“Hey…what’s up?”

“You might wanna, uh—”

You pointed to his mouth, making him look in the nearby mirror to see what was happening. His eyes widened at the red smeared over and around his swollen lips. Clicking his tongue, he grabbed a tissue, wiped it off as best as possible and turned towards you afterward.

“Better?”

A thumbs up was given. “Much. As much as I like my lipstick on you, I don’t think you want everyone to know what you’ve been up to.”

Seungcheol’s mouth popped open. You complimented yet called him out simultaneously. A woman after his heart.

But you brought him back to Earth with a pat on his shoulder, reminding him, “Come on, don’t keep your friends waiting.”

Closing his mouth, he nodded in agreement.

“Right…thank you, Y/N, for, you know, distracting me. It helped. A lot.”

While not as red as before, your lips shone with vibrancy as they curled upwards.

“Of course, you looked like you needed it. Thanks for not leaving me hanging.”

“Not a problem.”

Another vibration in his pocket urged Seungcheol to hurry downstairs before getting stranded. He leaned down to kiss your cheek and made his way to the door, unlocking and opening it. Just as he stepped over the threshold, he looked back to see you watching him with an unreadable expression.

But it vanished when you caught him staring, brows knitting as you lightheartedly shooed him away.

Whatever that was was left behind as he shut the door behind him.

Seungcheol knew with every fiber of his being that his group would be in or lounging in the car, ready to leave any second. Patience was never their strong suit.

He could already spot a casualty or two as he walked across the lawn. Chan was laid across the hood of the vehicle while Seungkwan’s mouth ran off at Wonwoo, face flushed to all hell. He seemed to approach at the right time, the latter looking relieved as he pushed himself off from leaning against the door.

“There you are! We thought you walked home or something.”

Joshua’s voice could be heard calling out from inside, “Yeah man, where have you been?”

Seungcheol shrugged, hands buried into his pockets.

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

He looked Wonwoo dead in his eyes, trying to telepathize what he had been up to.

“Stuff.”

His close friend seemed to understand after a moment, brows lifting in surprise while his mouth twisted upwards.

“Doing stuff or someone?”

But there was little chance of keeping it between them when Seungkwan obnoxiously challenged him.

“I was just hanging out with them. You told me I needed to be distracted tonight, yeah?”

Joshua was busy setting up his GPS to tune in and Chan was fighting slumber, leaving Wonwoo and Seungkwan to make noises of wonder at the reveal.

“We did. Good job, hyung.”

Seungcheol smirked at his approval, still riding the high of the encounter.

“What? Choi Seungcheol having a one-night stand?” Seungkwan stumbled forward to rest a hand on his elder’s forehead. “You feelin’ okay? Too much to drink?”

The smile dropped and formed into a scowl as he got his hand smacked away.

“Fuck off, look who’s talking. Get your drunk ass in the car.”

A petulant whine left the younger as he turned to fumble with the door. Joshua honked the horn, sticking his head out the driver’s window to yell at Chan to move and get in. It did little to faze the youngest, mumbling something akin to ‘five more minutes.’ Seungcheol and Wonwoo worked on removing him from the hood and into the backseat to lean on a singing Seungkwan. The latter climbed in next to them, leaving the oldest to get ready to slide in the passenger seat.

“Seungcheol!”

But then a voice called out before footsteps thudded in the grass behind him.

Thick brows furrowed as he turned to gape in shock as he saw you running over. You stopped directly before him, catching your breath for a moment.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t think I’d catch you. I wanted to give you something.”

Seungcheol had no clue what this something could be. He was still trying to wrap his head around running into you again. This wasn’t how one-night stands were supposed to go…right?

But when you opened a closed fist to reveal a piece of folded paper, his brain ran ahead of itself and wondered whether this was going to go the opposite direction.

Seungcheol blinked rapidly, peeking at your face to see you giving him an expectant look. He took the paper and quickly unfolded it, jaw dropping at what was scribbled down. He couldn’t help but dart back and forth between it and you, the mischievous grin letting him know that this wasn’t a joke.

“In case you need more distraction.”

With a wink, you turned around, the skirt of your dress flipping and swishing as you walked back towards the house with a sway in your hips. He continued to gawk at your retreating form, only brought out of his reverie by the whooping of his friends and Joshua’s incessant honking. Spinning around to chew out the driver for making a commotion, Seungcheol swiftly got in, buckling himself before the group hit the road.

Of course, the ride was filled with interrogation, intermingled with Seungkwan’s singing and Dino’s freestyling. But he didn’t mind, feeling a burst of confidence every time the paper scratched the palm of his hand.

Maybe coming out to this party wasn’t a terrible idea after all.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 So Long, Quantico.

Prison Reid x Fem!reader

Read part two here!

Summary: Your best friend asks you for a favor and you must defend the innocence of the man you were in love with, the same man for whom you left the FBI and moved to another country years ago.

Words: 1,6k.

TW: mentions of murder, trauma, death, jail. angst without happy ending. miscommunication. right person, wrong time. reid's time in jail. spoilers for season 13 and all the ones before that. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: First of all I want to thank you for all the support in my first post because the truth is that I didn't expect (if you haven't read it yet, I already have my masterlist). I still can't believe I reached 1000 notes, it makes me very happy.

And secondly, I apologize in advance for this, but I love drama and being a little cliche sometimes. I promise to write a nice, comfortable, less dramatic Spencer story in the future (I hope so) but ttpd is my everything lately.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The constant pounding of your right leg against the table was beginning to make you desperate and to dwarf the room. You didn't know what to do to stop and think for a few seconds, you had even lost count of all the times you had tried to fix your already perfect and ironed clothes that you had spent hours choosing and modeling in front of your hotel mirror.

It felt like hours had passed since you arrived at the prison, though it was probably only a few minutes. Part of you wanted to run out of there and avoid a dangerous reunion at all costs. The other part was anchored to the chair and would not move until you found a way to get Spencer out of there and fulfill the favor Emily had asked of you.

You couldn't let your best friend down, especially when her job could be in jeopardy if Reid was still in prison. You wanted to make sure she was okay, and repay her for all the favors she had done for you during the years you had lived together in London. Without her, you probably would not have survived or become the successful and respected lawyer you were now. She helped you heal when you needed it, now it was your turn to help.

Before you could think, grab your things and maybe even leave the room to catch your breath, a guard abruptly opened the door. Your eyes immediately fell on the handcuffed man the guard had practically thrown into the chair in front of you.

You blinked several times, trying to process that you were actually standing in front of him. He looked so different from the way you remembered him from the occasional picture Prentiss showed you. The years hadn't gone by for nothing, you knew that, but Spencer looked like someone else. It was more than the messy hair, the beard, or the numerous bruises on his face that made you wince. It was that his eyes no longer sparkled, and he himself looked dull.

The guard came out after warning them that they only had fifteen minutes, and the cameras pointed directly at you two.

“Hey.” That was all you could say, biting your inner cheek at how stupid it sounded.

At first he didn't react and hardly seemed to breathe. His expression was like seeing a ghost, and you couldn't blame him after so many years of not hearing from you. You knew you looked different from the last time you saw each other because you had tried too hard to look like someone else. You wore your hair shorter and a different color, even the way you dressed was other. You looked more serious and grown up.

“What are you doing here?” He asked dryly after scanning you with his eyes for a few seconds.

You froze when you heard him speak and his voice, once music to your ears, was like a kick in the stomach.

“I came to help. I thought Emily told you...”

“She told me that she wanted to call you but I told her not to.” Spencer cut you off before you could continue speaking. “That you weren't going to help me.”

You frowned as your brain processed those words.

“Why not? You...you are my friend.” You said, trying to hide the tremor in your voice.

He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, trying to look away from you because it hurt. You could feel the tension multiply, making it almost impossible to breathe in the small room.

“Friends don't stop talking for six years and pretend the other doesn't exist.”

Oh, that had hurt.

It was true that you had disappeared from his life six years ago, and you had not made the slightest effort to return, even leaving the country with the excuse of looking for a better future. But you had your hidden reasons, you wanted to forget Spencer Reid and your intensely ridiculous and unrequited love.

From the first time you heard him talk about statistics and smile at you like a child, realizing that you listened to him like no one else, you fell madly in love with him for years. Always hoping that one day he would stop thinking of you as his friend and realize how much he deserved to be loved and that you would be happy to do so, that you could give him the whole world without hesitation if he asked you to.

At first you thought he wasn't that interested in love, that he was too smart and focused to lose his mind like you did for him. However, then you saw him several times interested and pining for other girls: the movie actress, JJ, the girl at the bar and Maeve...she was very different and painful for you.

You couldn't stand his strong love for her, at least not being so close to him and having to play the role of the best friend who always listened to him repeat how wonderful she was. Knowing that he could fall in love with someone he didn't even know personally instead of you, whom he saw every day and had known for years, changed you and made you run away to save your heart.

You got a new job far from the United States, thanks to Agent Hotchner and his glowing letter of recommendation. And so you went back to being an ordinary lawyer, no longer chasing serial killers or a boy genius who never loved you as you would have liked.

“Spence, I...” You tried to speak softly, almost having the urge to take his hand to make the situation better, but you didn't. “I'm sorry.”

He was obviously tense, he wouldn't even look you in the eye and you could swear his eyes were a little crystallized. He barely glanced at you for a second before speaking again.

“You don't have to say it if it's not true.”

“It's true.”

You stopped yourself for a second, sighing and centering yourself again.

“But I'm here for the case, to help you with that...and I'm sorry for everything that happened to you.” You said more calmly and with an almost sweet tone.

You both knew it was more than just the prison issue and the current situation. It was a sorry for Maeve's death, Alex, Morgan and Hotch's resignation, his mother's problems, Cat's damn appearance, and most of all for not being there to support him in all.

“You should have called and said so.” He finally responded after letting out a snort and tensing his jaw more.

“Yeah...I should have.” You admitted, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

You thought silence would take over the room again, but instead he spoke again.

“You can go now.”

“I'm not going anywhere unless you're free.” You pointed out with determination.

“You don't have a problem with go before.” He said in the same indifferent tone that was beginning to irritate you.

You should have frozen, kept quiet and focused on the case to get him out of there. But you couldn't do that and act professional when your insides were burning with the memory of the past.

“Don't give me that, you know why I did.” You blurt out, frowning and instinctively pushing the chair away from the table that separates you from him.

“You never said anything to me.” He replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration before speaking again. “You just disappeared like everyone else I've ever loved because you got bored with me.”

“You know I left for the opposite reason, because I...” You tried to say, but your voice cracked and your hands shook in an awkward attempt to touch his. “I loved you the way that you were and...”

The sudden sound of the door opening made you gasp and immediately shut up. The presence of a grim-faced guard made you realize it was all over, and you pulled your hand away from Spencer's again.

“Time's up.” The guard reported and you signaled him to have at least more minutes.

Fortunately, the guard nodded and gave you only five more minutes. You looked at your client again, trying to get into the professional role and discuss his case, but he seemed to be in another world after your half sentences.

There was no room in Reid's mind for your words, after feeling guilty for so long for not doing enough to be a good friend to you, for scaring you away with his problems, for not being one you wanted to keep over time and return his calls. But now, did you really say what you thought? Did you really love and care for him?

Everything was tearing his word apart in that moment.

“You won't have to see me if you don't want to, but I'll get you out of here soon, Spencer. I swear.” You promised and you could see in his face the surprise at your honest tone.

Maybe he expected a different attitude from you, maybe he thought you were still so obsessed with him that you would insist on seeing him and kill yourself to make him laugh again. But you had matured, or so you thought. You were no longer the young woman who hugged him every time he felt far away and was content to be the one who was left over. Now, you were the brave woman who left the ship before it sank completely.

As you watched the guard check the handcuffs and lift Spencer out of the seat to take him away, something inside you reacted. You called out his name before you could react and quickly had his desperate eyes on you.

“You don't have to worry about the past...I'm over you.” You said confidently before nodding goodbye and walking out with one less burden.

He remained anchored to the ground, trying to process your words with his racing mind as he watched you leave him again.

You...you had been in love with him?

[lonely-lost-soul]

Day 2: Tengen and Rengoku

Day 2: Threesome

Tengen licked his lips, staring intently at the young lady in the entertainment district's kiosk before him. By his side was his most trusted friend, Rengoku, who seemed to be intently staring at the same woman, the way her hips moved as she walked, her shyness evident as the lady of the house seemed to fix up her hair. Almost scolding her as if she wasn't presentable enough as a lady. Uzui thought the hag couldn't be more wrong, “Are you positive your wives won’t mind that we are here?” The man asked, adjusting his leg slowly, one of his permanent injuries from the battle of Akaza. In his own opinion, he was much better off than Tengen; his friend had lost one of his eyes. But both men were forced into an early retirement from the Demon Slayers due to their injuries. Tengen only laughed, turning to face the man, 

“I already told them I’m scoping out another wife, either for me or you." He winked, causing Kyojuro to laugh from his chest, "The main thing they’re not happy about is me returning to this district.” Tengen snorted, hair falling prettily in front of his face, and Rengoku looked at him with a smile, 

“If it’s alright with them, then it’s alright with me! So long as everyone is treated with proper respect!” He shouted, pounding a fist to the palm of his hand before reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind Tengen’s ear like a good friend would. Tengen snorted, wrapping an arm around his companion, 

“If you were a girl. You’d be my fourth wife without a doubt.” Rengokou beamed with pride, 

“I’d be honored! And accept without hesitation!”

“Flashy!” 

“Excuse me, the lady of the house said you requested me,” Your soft voice spoke, causing them both to turn to look at you. You were even prettier up close than you were from afar, hair elegantly styled, red and gold kimono covering you just as elegantly, makeup placed flawlessly on your cheeks and eyes, “I’m at your service.”

Tengen hummed, better with words than Kyojuro, “Please sit and enjoy a cup of sake with us for now. We paid for the night, relax.” Rengoku shot Tengen a questioning look, knowing they’d spent a lot of money on you. They'd free you from this wretched district if all went well tonight. You looked slightly surprised at the offer and moved to sit down, “Pretty thing, not there in between us.” Rengoku saw your cheeks burn as you sat beside the two men; Tengen leaned back with a grin, bringing sake to his lips, “What’s your name?” 

You told them your first name, fluttering your pretty eyelashes at the both of them. “I’m Rengoku Kyojuro; if we are going by first names, feel free to call me Kyojuro!” He chipped, grinning fondly at the woman, “This is Uzui.” The silver-haired man winked, “We’re here to make love to you!”

“H-huh?” You sputtered, and Tengen spat out his drink, choking on it, “I-I mean…” You smile shyly, “That’s quite the demand.” 

“Kyo-” Tengen hissed, pressing his fingers to his nose, “Do you even know subtly? So unflashy?”

“No!” He hummed proudly, “The best way to communicate your point is directly and honestly! This also gives our little spark room to decline if she needed to.” Tengen couldn’t deny that point; they weren’t monsters. After all, you’d always have a choice. “Will you spend the night with us?” 

You eyed the two men before you; they were former demon slayers. Even in casual clothes, word spread about the silver-haired man who solely saved this district from two demons and the man with hair of fire who saved all the innocents on the Mugen Train. Honestly, you couldn’t say no to them, not that you wanted to; these men were probably the two most attractive men you’ve ever encountered. “Yes,” you nodded, “it would be my pleasure.” 

“Not your pleasure, little one,” Tengen hummed, kissing your hand softly, “It’s truly our pleasure to be accepted by a beauty such as you.” He delighted in how your face turned a beautiful color as you were flustered. “Come, let's go somewhere a little more private,” He purred, helping you to your feet before turning to his friend and helping him stumble. 

“Ah, my apologies.” Rengoku smiled nervously, “My legs aren’t what they used to be, I'm afraid. But I assure you my performance regarding intimacy is not hindered.” 

“Kyojuro.” Uzui groaned, “She did not need to know that. I’m sure she wasn’t questioning your sexual prowess.” Both men stopped as you giggled, opening the door to the private room, the kimono falling off your shoulders seductively. Exposing your shoulder blades and the swell of your breasts, Tengen shut up almost immediately, eyes training down your body. 

“Beautiful!” Kyojuro praised, hobbling into the room, hands finding your waist, and you helped to balance him as he stumbled into you. “You’re beautiful!” His eyes burned like fire; staring into your own, he captured your lips in a quick kiss, and your cheeks flushed. 

“I’m sure you could find prettier girls here, but thank you-” You squeaked, feeling the other man’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind. His hair tickled your cheeks as his chin rested on your head, 

“Is that self-depreciation I hear?” Uzui mused from behind you, his hands slowly moving up to slide up to cup your breasts tenderly, “because you’re the only one here who caught our eye.” His large hands palmed your breasts, massaging them and causing you to lean against his body. “This is perfect, you are perfect, right Kyo?” 

“Absolutely!” Kyojiro hummed as Tengen slid your kimono down, exposing yourself to the men before you. The room's cold air made your nipples perk up as Kyojiro buried his face between them; his warm lips against your skin made you shiver. “I never wanna leave,” He purred, squishing his head between your chest and pressing kitten kisses to the sensitive area, causing you to mewl. 

“Look at you. Enjoying yourself?” Tengen snickered as you looked up at him through wet lashes, 

“Y-yes-” You breathed, stretching your neck up, “kiss me?” 

“You don’t need to ask twice.” Uzui leaned down to capture your lips with his own, and his lips were skilled as his tongue slipped inside your mouth. You groaned against him as your tongues battled for dominance; yours was easily overpowered. Your fingers tangled themselves in Rengoku’s hair, and the embodiment of sunshine purred, biting the skin on your breasts. You moaned hotly as he trailed marks across your chest, allowing your kimono to open fully as he continued his way downward toward your core. You pulled away from Tengen’s lips to choke out a moan, feeling Rengoku’s tongue prod at your entrance. He hissed a little, trying to settle on his bad knee, and Tengen clicked his tongue, “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

“I’m not; this is worth it.” Kyo grinned and attacked your center like a man starved; you tossed your head back and moaned with delight. Uzui had to catch you as your legs melted against Rengoku’s mouth and tongue. 

“He has no self-preservation truly,” Tengen mused, watching you squeeze your legs around his comrade's head, which only egged him further, his fingers coming up to massage your clit. “You’re just that intoxicating, lovely,” His mouth latched itself onto your neck, nipping and kissing at the sensitive spots there, which only fueled your moans louder. Kyojiro pulled away, lips glistening with your arousal, 

“Umai!” You giggle, hands gently threading through his flame-colored hair, “Uzui!’ He shouted, “She’s close may I make her cum on my tongue?” 

“Don’t ask me; ask the lady you’re eating out.” Kyo looked at you with the most enormous puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen, 

“Yes. Please let me cum, Kyo.” Kyojiro grinned before looking at Tengen, who rolled his eyes. He knew what that look meant. You won’t be able to continue after Rengoku had his way with you, but it was fine you were coming back with them after all; you can cum on his cock another time. With a nod from Uzui, he dove back in between your legs; you moaned hotly as you felt his fingers begin to pump in and out of your pussy working in tandem with his tongue. You felt warm pressure as you yelped a little, standing up straighter, riding Kyojiro’s mouth. His fingers started heating up inside you, and your legs trembled in ecstasy. 

“That’s what he does,” Tenegn purred, “use his breathing technique to last a while, heating his fingers for maximum pleasure.” Uzui continued to play with your breasts, pinching your nipples between his fingers and enjoying the loud sounds you made against his shoulder. “You feel it, don’t you? His tongue works wonders inside your throbbing pussy, the heat as you clench on Kyo’s face.” You could only nod as Rengoku’s fingers found the spongy spot inside you and began to pound into it repeatedly with his fingers. Wet sounds of pleasure filled the room as you shuddered, coming around the man’s face with a cry, suffocating the man between your thighs. This time when Rengoku pulled away, he looked horny and dizzy, with a red face, 

“Holy. Shit.” a shit-eating grin spread across his lips, “You almost killed me between your thighs. What a way that would’ve been, aye Uzui?”

“Lucky bastard.” Tengen scoffed as you lay limp against his muscular body, shuddering in the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Let’s rest now, little one; we can continue in the morning.”

[pinkslipxox]

Seven Minutes in Heaven:

Summary: At a party you’re dared to go inside a closet with Billie where she confesses her feelings for you

Warnings: fluff 🙃

————————————————————————

Lively chatter and laughter echoed throughout the house as you stepped inside. People greeted you with smiles and friendly embraces. Yet your eyes were searching for your best friend, Billie, who had said that she was attending tonight’s party.

“Y/N!” the familiar sound of Odessa’s voice caught your attention. She gestured for you to come over. As you stepped closer, you could see that she was not alone. Sat on the couch with her were Claudia, Finneas, Zoe, and Billie.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted them.

“Here, Y/N. Take my spot,” Finneas said as he moved up to sit at the arm of the couch. With a smirk, Billie patted the now open space next to her, and you sat down.

“Hey, you. Glad you could make it,” Billie murmured softly as she wrapped your arm around your shoulder, giving you a one-armed hug.

“Thanks. I am, too,” you said with a smile.

It was actually Billie who had invited you to the party. While it wasn’t in your plans to go out tonight, you decided to go. It was also saw excuse for you to see her and spend time with her.

In a perfect world, Billie wouldn’t just be your best friend. You saw her more than just that. But never in a million years would you ever say it to her face. She’s Billie motherfucking Eilish. She’s already sought after by so many, more beautiful and attractive and interesting than you… why would she pursue you in the first place?

“How about we play Truth or Dare?” a partygoer slurs, whom you were unfamiliar with, and everyone either nodded or verbally voiced their opinion. A few other people who were nearby joined in, forming a small group around the couch.

“Alright.” Billie rubbed her hands together, her eyes glowing with a mixture of excitement and mischief. “Who wants to go first?”

The first few truths or dare consisted of Finneas drinking liquor out of someone’s boot, a guy and girl kissing, Zoe reading a salacious text message she sent thirty minutes ago, and Odessa revealing who she would kill, kiss and marry from the group.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Finneas asked with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Dare,” you replied, surprising both yourself and the group.

Finneas smirked. “I dare you to go inside the closet with Billie for seven minutes.”

“What?” you gasped, feeling the color drain from your face. You swore that you were hearing things. At first you thought that Finneas was joking, but his smug expression said otherwise.

“Finneas!” Billie and Claudia exclaimed in perfect unison.

“It’s not funny,” Billie chided, slapping her brother’s arm.

“It’s just a dare, chill,” he defended between laughs. He then looked at his sister. “Unless you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she snapped. If looks could kill, Finneas would be lying dead on the floor by now. She then stood up and looked at you, her eyes looking directly at yours with an intensity that almost left you without air.

Slowly, you nodded and stood up. A chorus of laughs and jeers from the group filled the air as the both of you made your way to the closet. Your heart was beating out of your chest. The door closed shut with a soft click of the lock. Billie was staring at you, biting her lip, and she took a cautious step forward.

“Billie, wait…” you began but Billie gently shushed you.

“Calm down, Y/N,” Billie murmured, her hands firmly on her shoulders. “I’m not going to do anything if you don’t want me to. In a way, Im glad this happened. I need to talk to you about something.”

“Alright,” you said softly. She then outstretched her hands, her ocean blue eyes silently pleading for you to take them, and you did. They were warm and comforting, and it made your heart flutter.

Billie took a deep breath before speaking. “I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, Y/N. And… I know you’ve had your eye on me, too.” She stood a bit straighter, keeping her composure yet the nerves were still evident in her eyes. “If you let me, Id love to take you out sometime. But that’s only if you want to.”

You were so stunned you couldn’t speak. In all your years of friendship, you had never seen Billie so vulnerable until now. Her confession made your heart swell and relief washed over you knowing that the feeling was mutual between you and Billie.

“Say something, Y/N, you’re making me nervous,” Billie chuckles awkwardly and you smile at her.

“I’d love to, Billie,” you said happily, making Billie visibly relax. Ever so gently, she pulled you into her, her hands on either side of your waist. “Why didn’t you ever say anything before?”

She chuckled softly. “I was scared. And everytime I tried to flirt with you in the past, you took it as a joke. So I stopped. I always thought you just saw me as a friend.”

“Oh, Billie…” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“One minute, guys!” Odessa yelled from the other side of the door, causing the both of you to laugh.

“Only one minute left… what to do?” Billie mused, her tone playful, brushing her nose against yours.

You smirked. “I can think of something.”

“Oh, yeah?” Billie’s smirk mirrored yours as you slowly leaned in and closed the small gap between the two of you.

The kiss was soft and tender, speaking all the words of your newfound love for each other in a single gesture. Billie deepened the kiss as she held you tighter, her warm tongue brushing over your lip, and you parted your lips ever so slightly. But she didn’t dive into the opportunity, instead she trailed kisses along your jawline, and you moaned softly. Your eyes fluttered closed as she went down your neck, your collarbone, her hand delicately kneading your ass—

“Time’s up!” Finneas’ voice pierced through the blissful moment, making the two of your jump. Yet the two of your laughed, gently pressing your foreheads together.

Billie rolled her eyes playfully. “That jerk.”

“That went faster than I thought,” you said with a giggle, and Billie chuckled as she pulled away from you slightly. She kissed your forehead, letting her lips linger there for a moment before steaming another quick kiss from you.

“We’ll finish this later, baby,” she promised with a wink, and you couldn’t help but blush.

[justhereforxreaders]

The Prince and the Dragon Rider - Part One: The Oath

Jacaerys Velaryon x dragon rider!reader

Summary: after three years of peaceful living on Dragonstone, Prince Jacaerys stumbles upon an answer to his growing anxieties of mastering dragonriding. But when this new companion is discovered prematurely, how will the Princess respond?

Warnings: mentions of blood loss and wounds

soundtrack

part two: tempest

part three: the dawn

part four: the test

part five: precipice

part six: pieces and players

part seven: the rift

You stand silently in the throne room of Dragonstone awaiting judgment while a storm rages outside the black stone walls. Two kingsguard are posted at the large doors opposite the throne. Their eyes fixed on your small, shivering frame. A flash of lightning followed closely by the crack of thunder causes you to jump and one of the kingsguard calls out to you from across the room.

“We said be still!”

You nod curtly and continue to stare out the windows at the rain. Tears begin to flow against your will as another bolt of lightning strikes nearby and you try your best to remain still.

This is not what I wanted. You think to yourself, reflecting upon the events that led you to be separated from your dragon and now, possibly, from your closest friend.

Jacaerys Valeryon had discovered you and your dragon living within the natural caverns beneath the fortress of Dragonstone nearly four moons. The two of you became quick friends, meeting in secret to train one another. He had witnessed your skills on dragonback firsthand when he and Vermax happened upon you and your dragon one morning before the sun had risen. Your deftness alone would have been enough to impress the young Prince but after watching the two of you dive into the sea to escape their curious pursuit, he knew he needed to seek you out. In exchange, he had offered you the chance to hone your skills in combat. Being common born, your abilities with a blade were much more crude than those of the knight trained prince. You relished the opportunity to learn how to properly defend yourself.

You are pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the ornate doors swinging open. A small procession of colorful lords file into the great hall surrounded by armored knights that begin to peel off in pairs to stand along the walls as they approach. The last two take positions on either side of you. Once the guards are in their places, a caller steps forth to announce the silver haired woman standing alone in the doorway.

“Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, first of her name, heir to the Iron Throne!”

The caller bellows throughout the room while the woman walks with purpose through the grand hall to take her place upon the throne. Once seated she meets your gaze. You cast your eyes down to the black stone below.

“This council has been brought together to address the matter of this child’s involvement in the endangerment and injury of my son, the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon,” her voice becomes shaky when she says his name but she does her best to gain her composure before addressing you directly, “What do you have to say in your defense?”

You hesitate for a moment, steadying yourself with a breath while trying to remember what you had intended to say. But when you look up to see tears welling up in the Princess’s eyes, only one thought fills your mind.

“Is Jace going to be alright?” You ask timidly.

“That does not answer the Princess’s question, child,” snaps a silver haired man standing below the throne. “We want to know how this happened.”

The Princess’s eyes remain fixed on you. She examines you carefully as you wipe the lingering tears from your face and begin recounting everything.

“The Prince and I have been training together for quite some time.” The Princess raises an eyebrow at this but you continue, “We flew out to practice on dragonback this morning when the wind rose up quickly around us. We couldn’t outrun the storm and when it consumed us, we were both thrown into the sea. The dragons were nowhere to be seen, whisked away by the tempest, so we began making our way to shore but-” you shutter and grow silent, remembering the deep wounds carved into your friend’s shoulder. “Jacaerys had been injured. I believe Vermax may have tried to take hold of him as he fell. He lost consciousness during the swim and I carried him the rest of the way.”

Once the words leave your mouth there is a beat of silence before you begin to sob, the horror fresh in your mind of Jace going limp in your arms. You can barely hear the low murmurs that flurry around the room until the Princess brings them all to a halt.

“How could you be training on dragonback? Were you both astride Vermax?” The Princess calls down to you from the throne, her tone shifting from sorrow to accusatory.

You freeze while the tears continue to pour. Jace had recently begun trying to convince you to reveal yourself to his mother. He was certain you would be offered a proper bed to sleep in but when the subject of revealing your dragon was brought into question, he was unsure of how the Princess and her second husband would respond to someone outside their blood to being bonded to a dragon. The discussion ended shortly after expressing this to you.

Now faced with this dilemma, without Jace’s guidance, you decide to remain honest. Still holding onto the glimmer of hope that you will find acceptance and refuge among this family.

“No, Your Grace, I was riding my own dragon.”

Amidst the uproar, the man with silver hair draws his sword and storms down the steps toward you.

“Who are you to have claimed one of our dragons? We should have your hands you thief!”

“Daemon, no!” The Princess shouts and the room falls silent once again.

The man stops his advance but his sword is still drawn in your direction.

“I am no thief,” you manage to say with a quivering voice. “My mother was an acolyte of the priests of R’hllor on the outskirts of Asshai. When I was six years of age, a lord came to our temple to enlist the help of the red priests in hatching a dragon egg.”

Another round of concerned whispers echo throughout the hall.

“I know not who the lord was or where he acquired the egg. It made no difference as during the ritual the temple caught fire, leaving myself and my dragon as the only survivors to emerge from the ashes. We had been traveling west across Essos together for nearly eight years until she finally led me to this island four moons ago.”

The man, who you now identify as Daemon, looks you up and down and begins speaking a language you cannot understand. When he meets your eyes and sees your confusion, he scoffs and turns to Princess Rhaenrya. They have a brief exchange in the foreign language before they are cut off by a frantic man in robes entering the room.

“The prince has awoken,” he exclaims, out of breath.

Rhaenyra immediately stands and makes haste to the door, followed closely by her guard. However, Daemon stays put in front of you.

“We shall reconvene at a later time,” the Princess calls over her shoulder as she exits the room. “See this child placed in a room under watch until-“

“Wait, no!” You cry out, interrupting the Princess. With the relief of knowing that Jacaerys is alive and conscious, the fear of your dragon’s safety fills the entirety of your being. “Please let me return home! I need to know if my dragon is safe.”

Her and Daemon make eye contact above your head.

“We cannot allow you to leave until a decision can be made,” she says plainly, a slight look of remorse flashes across her face, before she disappears out the door without a second glance.

The lords disperse around you. All except Daemon who still stands with his sword drawn.

“How do you command a dragon of you do not speak High Valyrian?”

“I don’t,” you reply, confusion evident in your voice, “I have been at her mercy since she grew large enough to ride. I have simply trusted her instincts.”

He chuckles lightly, “I wonder then, if you were to make a command of her, would she return that sentiment? Would she trust your instincts? Is she truly bonded to you? Or were you a convenient mean for survival?”

He sheaths his sword and walks away from you, taking a seat on the steps below the throne. The guards at your sides escort you out of the hall, leaving Daemon’s questions to rattle around in your mind.

- - - - -

Dragon-riding was an art that did not come naturally to Prince Jacaerys. He had been so relieved when his family left King’s Landing, as it meant he no longer would be sharing dragon keeper lessons with his spiteful uncles. This relief was short lived however, as once Vhagar had been claimed by Aemond, a frantic drive to master the sky filled his entire being. Once Vermax became large enough to ride, he trained often and obsessively, stealing the joy from what was previously a childhood dream of the young prince. Until he began training with you.

Although he initially approached your training with the same urgency, he soon found an unexpected solace riding alongside you. With you, it never felt like a burden or duty. It felt like freedom. It felt like peace. You had turned the sky into a safe haven.

Which is why the sight of you being thrown from your dragon in the middle of that storm was on an endless loop in his mind while he fell in and out of consciousness. Despite the pain of the maesters working on his wounds, he wouldn’t allow himself to be pulled into sleep until he knew you were safe. Thankfully, once their work was complete and the discomfort from their treatment had ended, he was able to fully recover his mind from that haunting vision.

He sat up slowly in his bed, head still spinning, to see the maesters cleaning up their instruments.

“What happened? How did I get here?” He mutters.

The maesters whip their heads towards the prince at the sound of his voice and the room buzzes back into action.

“Inform the Princess!” Grand Maester Gerardys commands to the room before taking place at Jace’s bedside. “Steady, my Prince, the wound is freshly stitched and you’ve lost much blood.” He attempts to help the boy back down but Jace protests.

“No,” he mumbles, using his good arm to weakly bat away the Grand Maesters hands. “Tell me what happened.”

Gerardys sighs. “You were found wounded on the beach with a stranger who refused to leave your side.”

The rest of the memory flashes through Jace’s head. The gust of wind and rain that ripped him from his dragon’s back, the pain of Vermax’s claws in his shoulder, finding you in the cold water, your arm around his body as he grew even colder.

“Where is y/n?” His eyes snap open.

“Taken before the council to face judgment for your endangerment.” The maester gives up the fight with his stubborn patient and returns to his supplies laid out on the table.

“But-” Jacaerys begins before being cut off by his mother.

“Jace!” She cries as she burst through the door and runs to his side, embracing him as gently as she can manage.

“Mother, where is y/n? They have done nothing wrong, they saved my life.” He takes a moment to catch his breath after the words tumble out of his mouth. Still struggling to keep his grip on the waking world.

Rhaenyra releases her son and she looks over him. Her face grows stern at the mention of your name, which she had neglected to ask for.

“And why was your life at risk in the first place? Who is this dragonrider that you’ve kept secret from me? And why trust a stranger to train you over Daemon or myself?”

Jacaerys turns away sheepishly, trying not to dive too deeply into the sliver of joy he had found in your presence. “Y/n is my friend, not a stranger. As well as a skilled dragonrider.”

“How could you know that Jace? How do we know this isn’t a trap set by our enemies?”

He considers this briefly. Trying to determine how he can convince his mother that you are not a threat to them. Wishing desperately to cite the countless occurrences of your trustworthiness and honor that he has already witnessed. But he knows that it is not just his mother that he is speaking to. He is also speaking to the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And the Queen cannot afford to place that much faith in the feelings of a young man. So instead, he decides to respond like a future king.

“Why would our enemies want us to gain such a powerful advantage? Supplying our cause with a large dragon and a masterful rider does them no favors.” Prince Jacaerys states.

Rhaenyra is taken aback by Jace’s strategic thinking. She looks over his face and ponders his words while tracing the healed scar down her arm. A bitter reminder of her own betrayal by someone she once held dear.

“Do you trust this person with your safety? With the safety of your family?” Rhaenyra questions, her eyes momentarily welling up against her will.

Jacaerys meets her gaze and nods solemnly. The Princess grabs her son’s hand tenderly.

“If this to be our decision; to allow an outsider to inherit the power of our house…” she pauses, trying to find the right words. “Then this not an ally we can afford to lose. And we must ensure their loyalty to my claim to the throne, as well as your own.”

- - - - -

The room you are placed in offers little comfort while you wait for your fate to be decided. Housed high in the tower, it sways ever so slightly with the wind. Exhaustion from the events of today combined with the gentle motion of the room threaten to lull you to sleep but the distress at being away from your dragon for the first time in years keeps you from finding any rest. You sit on the hard floor with your back up against the wall, facing the door, counting the seconds between lightning strikes and rumbles of thunder.

A knock on the door startles you and you spring to your feet as a kingsguard steps through the doorway followed closely by Princess Rhaenyra. You notice her face appears less grim than it had been in the throne room. She examines you from head to toe then finds your eyes. They soften ever so slightly before she speaks.

“Jacaerys is resting and the maesters are confident he will make a full recovery.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and nod at the Princess’s words but the worry still lingers on your face. She continues.

“We have also received word that Vermax has returned to the dragonmont with a large black dragon in tow. Both weary but seemingly unharmed.”

You gasp as though this is the first real breath you’ve taken all day and place your hands over your eyes as tears flow freely down your face. Their intensity dies down, however, as you recall the Princess’s final words to you in front of her council. A new dread fills your stomach.

“And what is to be done with me?” You ask in as neutral a tone as you can manage, dropping your hands from your eyes but still staring intently at the stone below.

The Princess lets out a heavy sigh and takes a step closer to you.

“We would ask that you swear an oath of loyalty. Declare fealty to House Targaryen and to myself as heir to the Iron Throne. And for this you will be granted permission to serve our house as a dragonrider.”

You shake your head, trying to comprehend her words.

“And what would my service entail? What would be expected of me?”

“The same that I ask of every lord and lady sworn to me. As well as every member of my family that commands a dragon; that should this house become threatened, they will heed the call to arms and meet the enemy with fire and blood.” Her voice becomes foreboding as she recites the words of her house. Indicating to you that this is less of a choice you are being offered, and more a sentence that you are being served.

“Though I hope such a need will never come,” she adds, trying to lighten her tone.

Your thoughts turn to your dragon and the years you have spent protecting each other. You may not speak the same language but you know you trust her with every fiber of your being. And, although the gods may have left a foul taste in your mouth for prophecy and purpose, you do believe she chose you as her rider for a reason. If taking this oath is the only way you can continue to be allowed to live alongside your dragon, then so be it.

You raise your head, sparing a quick glance at the kingsguard, before your eyes meet with the Princess’s. “I am at your service, Princess.”

“We are glad to have it, y/n.” She says with sincerity. “The hour has grown late, let us see you to a more suitable chamber.” She turns and begins walking out the door, beckoning you to follow.

You fall into line behind her down the winding stairs.

“Once you are settled,” she calls over her shoulder, “if you are not spent, I can take you to the dragonmont.”

You nod fervently and small smile flashes across her face.

[kurikive]

MINECRAFT — 23. 1 MILLY LIVESTREAM SHOW!!!

The countdown got closer and closer. 3… 2… 1…

Most of Y/N’s viewers were probably expecting to see the owner of the channel herself. For some, what they were met with was much better. For Anton, much worse.

The screen faded from black to Anton in green clothes, green cardboard cutouts of cat ears on his head, and a full face of green face paint.

Behind the scenes, Y/N gave a thumbs up, indicating the voice changer filter was turned on, and it was his time to speak.

“Hello, viewers. I’m Widdung, Y/N’s alien companion. I’ve come to Earth to celebrate the milestone of 1 million people being subscribed to “isatellite”. “ Anton does his best to sound enthusiastic, and tries to stop his face from cringing.

“Widdung! Oh my gosh!” Hyewon enters the scene, “How did you get here?” She’s having too much fun with her acting lines, revoking the seriousness from everything that’s happened before the countdown ended.

The voice filter turns on again, “My spaceship brought me here, but it crashed right outs-”

The focus moves to a limping Jiwoo with fake blood on the side of her head and a fresh scratch on her cheek (done by Hyewon), “You!” She points at the bright green Anton.

The boy puts his green hands in the air and Jiwoo angrily speaks, “Your UFO crashed into my lawn!”

“Woah! Woah!” Y/N finally enters the screen with a colorful birthday hat on her head, tilted slightly to the right. “It’s not the fight to time, guys!” The other three try their best to stay on character and not laugh.

“...Time to fight.” Y/N corrects herself in a mumble. “Anyways! It’s time to celebrate!”

“Celebrate what?” Jiwoo asks.

“Hitting one million subscribers!” Y/N turns to the camera while her friends take out party poppers from behind them. The sounds of party poppers cracking and party horns fill out the audio of the livestream.

After the group finishes making noise and cheering, the screen is supposed to fade to black before the actual stream starts, but there’s no one behind the camera, so they’re left awkwardly looking at each other, then back at the camera.

“I’ll go.” Anton says, now without the voice filter. His green self quickly steps out of frame to control the stream. The screen fades to black, and a short video of the behind the scenes of the teaser photoshoot plays while the kids prepare for the next scene.

“Y/N, don’t go in there!” The sounds of the video camera tittering play before the actual footage plays. Y/N and Sooyoung, who’s filming, stand in the grass of an empty field close to the city.

When the younger starts walking towards the enormous puddle hidden in the grass, the shutter of a phone camera sounds shortly. The viewers can’t see, but it’s evident Sooyoung just took a picture of Y/N.

“Y/N your pants are gonna get-” Sooyoung is cut off by a raspy, cracking screech, “-wet…”

“Unnie!” The girl whines. The camera zooms into the wet seams of Y/N’s jeans, then pans to her pained expression. “I told you not to!” Sooyoung says from behind the screen.

The video is suddenly interrupted by gray static and noise, like the one of a shut down channel.

The screen fades back to the background of the first scene, zoomed in where you could only see the top of the couch and a fraction of the wall behind.

The camera slowly zooms out and Y/N appears in the center of the couch, birthday hat still on her head. Her cheeks had 1 and M written on each side. She looks directly at the camera with a sheepish smile on her face.

“Hey guys…” Y/N says in a cheeky tone. “Welcome to my party.”

Jiwoo snorts behind the camera, and Y/N sends her a quick piercing look.

“So… did you guys like my surprise?” The girl rubs on her thigh nervously with her palm, “I planned this whole thing in like three days.”

Y/N reads the comments from the phone sitting on the table in front of her. The chat was going way too fast for her to read, so she picks it up and chooses a random comment to read.

“You’re crazy and insa- okay. Well. Thanks!” A sarcastic smile shows up on Y/N’s face before she goes back to read another comment.

“Since when are you friends with Yves? Um…” Y/N looks up to remember the date her and Sooyoung started talking, “Well, we met, like, about three or four weeks ago. But we started talking like, four days ago?”

An awkward laugh escapes the young girls lips, “She’s a very trustworthy person. Anyways!”

Y/N claps her hands together and they make a loud noise. “We’re not at the Q&A section yet. That’s later.” 

There’s a few mumbles but they’re inaudible due to not being picked up by the microphone. “Is he done?” Y/N mutters, then nods.

“So! A party isn’t a party without what?”

“Cake!” Y/N’s friends yell behind the camera.

“Anton, what’s on the menu?” Y/N puts her hand behind her ear and waits for the boy’s response.

“This pussy!”

Her smile drops at the unexpected answer, but anything she was about to say gets disrupted by the lights turning off. A very low budget rendition of the happy birthday song sung by the three of Y/N’s friends plays in the background. The lyrics are changed from 생일 축하 합니다 (Happy birthday) to 백만 축하 합니다 (Happy one million)

The flames atop the candles burn and light up Y/N’s eyes, a childish shimmer accompanied by her shy smile. This wasn’t discussed in the call, but she won’t complain about it.

The song finishes, and Hyewon exclaims “Make a wish, Y/N!”

I wish to be this happy for the rest of my life.

She blows out the flames and the screen goes pitch black, but the claps and cheers let the viewers know the room is far from empty.

The lights turn back on and after a few seconds Jiwoo returns to the frame with the others. “Happy one million, Y/Nie!” She says as she sits down next to Anton.

“Thanks so much guys.” Y/N looks around to convey her emotions to her friends with her eyes, she’s not very good with words anyway.

Her eyes land on Anton. Small remains of green body paint are left on his face and hands, but it’s not enough for it to bother him. She giggles at the sight. 

“I feel like- this feels like my birthday.” The others giggle with her. “Let’s we dig in?”

The girl immediately frowns at her own words, “What the hell did I say?” She and her friends burst into laughter, as well as the viewers in the chat. She hopes they don’t notice her embarrassment rising to her cheeks.

“Let’s eat.” She says, now calmed down. The cheers from the other three fill her ears. They had no plates, only spoons, a dream and a very excited audience.

“Dude, why are the comments going so fast? Oh my god.” Y/N said with a mouthful of cake. “I’ve never streamed before so I don’t know how it usually is.”

Anton deadpans at the girl, “Please remember you literally just hit one million a few hours ago.”

“...Right.”

“Dude this cake is so good.” Hyewon says, also with her mouth stuffed with cake.

The four have been eating cake for what seemed like hours, just talking amongst themselves. Y/N’s sure some clips would surface on her Twitter feed that same night.

“Guys, I don’t know about you, but I’m kinda sick of cake.” Y/N leans back on the couch, pushing her belly out with a groan.

“I don’t even like cake. I'm not sure why I kept eating it.” Jiwoo mentions, mirroring Y/N’s actions.

“You know what I think?” Hyewon puts her spoon down on the table and stands up suddenly.

“You think?” Anton teased, earning him a deadly look from the girl as she walked out of frame.

“I think it’s time for Q&A!” Hyewon exclaims loud enough from behind the camera so that the mic could pick up her voice clearly.

The screen fades to black, elevator music plays for around 7 minutes.

When the screen returns to its normal state, Y/N sits alone on the couch, phone in her hand. She wears the green kitty ears Anton was wearing at the start of the stream.

“Welcome to the Q&A section. We have compiled a few questions from the live chat as well as questions I get asked a lot.” The music gets lower when she starts talking and Y/N adjusts her cat ear headband before it falls from her head.

“Let’s shall start we?” Before anyone laughs again Y/N threatens, “If any of you laugh the live ends right here and now.” 

The girl clears her throat and gets back to reading the questions from her phone. “Ahem! Let’s start.”

Why is your name satellite?

“Ah… the OG question. I’ve gotten this one for years and never answered it for this exact moment.”

“We don’t even know!” Jiwoo says from the back and Y/N giggles.

“So basically, you know how my last name is Koo? So that means nine. And if you write the English word nine in Hangul it’s Na-in. And the Korean word for I is na and satellite is Ingongwiseong.”

It’s quiet for 10 seconds. If it weren’t for Y/N’s blinking and her goofy smile turning into an awkward one, you’d think the livestream froze.

“Y/N that barely makes sense.” Anton reasons. He’s kinda right.

“KOO? NINE! NA? I! INGONGWISEONG? SATELLITE! It’s simple!” Y/N doesn’t know if she’s yelling at Anton or her viewers, but they seem to have similar opinions about the channel name.

“I thought you just liked space a lot…” Hyewon says loud enough for everyone to hear and the chatroom and Jiwoo burst out laughing. 

“Let’s move on before you make fun of me more. I’ve had enough.” A cheeky pout invades

The Q&A goes smoothly for the most part. The majority of the questions have to do with the behind the scenes of Y/N’s gameplays or about the friend group’s dynamics.

At one point, the other three join the scene just like before. They talk and joke around while answering the questions directed at them. How does it feel to be a nepo baby? Have you successfully hexed someone? Are you actually a bottom? Jiwoo got really heated at the last one.

They finished answering the questions they had gathered beforehand, so they decided to read some questions in the live chatroom.

“How was filming with NewJeans?” Hyewon reads from her own phone. Her and Jiwoo’s heads turn to Y/N, but Anton’s response is faster.

“Great!” Y/N pushes him away in annoyance and the four of them laugh. 

“You’re such an idiot.” She lightly slaps the boy on the leg and he lets out a fake whine. “But it was really great. All the girls are so kind and funny and pretty. And surprisingly good at Minecraft.”

“Minji literally beat you, what are you talking about?” Jiwoo teases the girl, “And don’t say you let her because you know damn well you didn’t.”

Y/N sighs in defeat, her eyes landing on the leftover cake that got put away behind the camera. She gets the urge to slam her face into it and say nothing for the rest of the day. “Let’s move on!”

This was the last section of the show before some behind the scenes content played in the end, and Y/N was understandably getting quite tired.

Her energy decreased rapidly and she was getting dizzy from the comments moving too fast. Her phone was turned off and she just listened to the conversations her friends had, chiming in only when there was something to add or someone to tease.

Y/N’s notably surprised when her phone vibrates in her hand, so she turns it on to see- it’s Minji.

Y/N tries her best to respond to Minji’s text sneakily so that the viewers don’t notice. Hyewon does, however, and gives the girl a questioning look when she turns her phone and straightens herself up on the couch awkwardly.

Y/N looks at her and only a timid smile could be sent the other girl's way before she looks away and slowly takes the green kitty ears off of her head.

She knows Minji wouldn’t have stopped watching the stream even though she told her to, so she sticks her tongue out and tries to sneak a middle finger with it too. Hyewon laughs beside her.

“How long have we been up for?” Jiwoo asks all of a sudden. It’s 3 A.M, they started the live show at 12 A.M, Y/N hit one million at 7 P.M. Y/N didn’t sleep so she’s probably been up for-

“More than a day, I think. At least I have.”

“WHAT?!” The three of her friends yell at the same time. “Are you insane?!” Jiwoo yells the hardest.

“Wh- Well, I didn’t know Min-” Y/N cuts herself off when she realizes the public doesn’t know about her and Minji’s friendship. “I didn’t know I was gonna hit one million today.”

“We’ve been talking for like an hour, guys. I think it’s time to go.” Anton waves at the camera, the comments vary from shock to sadness.

“Oh my god, can I finish the cake?” Hyewon stands up when Jiwoo and Anton do, leaving a frozen Y/N on the couch.

“So, I guess it’s time for us to go. Thanks for being here, guys. I’m so grateful for all of you and how much love you’ve given not only me but the four of us. Thanks for one million. I’ll have another cake when it’s two.”

Y/N stands up from the couch and the camera follows her, “I’ll leave you with some behind the scenes footage. To show my love. Bye guys! I love you.”

The scene fades and after a few seconds, the footage starts playing.

Behind the camera, Jiwoo and Anton scold Y/N for not sleeping. Hyewon seems more interested in the computer.

“Dude. You have 30 thousand fucking viewers,”

“Tell me you’re joking.” Y/N rushes to Hyewon’s side.

“Is that good or bad?” Anton asks, confused at the sudden panic, “Don’t your videos usually get 500k views?”

“Yeah, but this is live viewers, Anton.” Hyewon answers, “This is what top tier streamers get on a normal day.”

“It’s probably because it’s my first one, right?” Y/N’s voice wavers slightly, still in shock at the amount of popularity that she’d gathered in such a short amount of time.

“Girl...” Jiwoo joins them, “You fucking made it…”

masterlist | next

taglist # @yumtooki @saysirhc @modanisgf @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @miinatozakiii @hotluvlet @mym1na @keiji-jin @wintersgff @wonyoungssi @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @shozeu @nwjnsloona @kaypanaq @pandafuriosa60 @linnnsworld @hwabyul4wheesun @artrizzler19 @brocoliisscared @jeindall777 @haerinkisser

[jji-lee]

you really should've taken some more convincing to be dragged into a party this big and this crowded. the air was thick, the smell of alcohol and sweat stirring together, making you nauseous, you needed air, immediately. you pushed through sticky bodies. there were people dancing, drinking, swapping bodily fluids you didn't even want to name, why did college students enjoy these types of things? there had to be a bathroom somewhere in this huge house, preferably one that didn't contain horny strangers.

to your dismay, when you finally found an empty room, it was not a bathroom, but it would have to do. the music dulled as you shut the door and you were pleasantly surprised by the scent in this room, floral and sweet. you looked around for a moment enjoying the cool air. the ceiling was high, and the room was neatly decorated, matching bed sheets and curtains, with a fluffy carpet decorating the center of the room. your eyes landed on a colorful picture frame that was decorated with fake flowers and silly stickers, in the middle was a photograph of a young boy smiling ear to ear holding hands with what appeared to be his mother. you smiled wondering what your mother must be doing right now.

"what are you doing in here?"

you quickly put the frame down upon hearing the voice feeling embarrassed for intruding. you tucked your hands in your pockets and turned around. your eyes landed on donghyuck, tall and as attractive as ever, you figured it was his room, recognizing his honey skin from the little boy you saw in the photograph.

"sorry, i was, um, just looking for the bathroom"

haechan had no idea he was going to be running into you at his party, especially not in his bedroom. this would've been a dream for him if he wasn't already so irritated after escaping a group of overly preppy college cheerleaders that were willing to throw themselves on him.

"well, it's clearly not here, if..."

but his snarky remark was cut short as you interrupted him, eyebrows furrowed and finger pointing directly at him.

"where have you been? mark's been working his ass off at your shop and you've disappeared from the face of the earth!"

you noticed he was gone? he tried his best to not stutter as he made a weak attempt at flirting with you, a smirk plastered on his face.

"why did you miss me?"

he didn't miss the small smile that escaped your lips as you rolled your eyes at him.

"very funny donghyuck. i know we're not close or anything but i thought that at least i knew a tiny bit about you"

you emphasized the tiny by pinching your fingers together squinting at him, he thought you were adorable.

"you used to make pretty bouquets, now you look like"

you gestured at his outfit.

"like all you care about is these trashy parties and girls!"

he bit his lip, unsure of how to respond to your concern. he felt dumb, for doing all of this, these parties, these flings, he knew this wasn't how he normally was, but he had no idea that you even cared this much about what was going on with him.

"i'm not like this, i'm just, going through some things right now i guess."

some things, aka trying not to kill jaemin every time he sees you two together. he dropped his head a little suddenly feeling silly for acting out all this time.

"look it might not be my place to say this, but you have good people surrounding you hyuck, you don't have to do all this, just ask someone for help"

he took a step towards you noticing how you backed away slightly. he found it cute how you had to raise your head to look up at him.

"will you help me y/n?"

"uh, i, uh, i meant someone like closer to you like mark, but i mean, yeah, i guess we're friends, sure, i can help, if you want"

he backed away from you, smiling at you being a stuttering mess. did he make you nervous? he hopes he does.

"friends huh? i guess i'll accept your friendship, since you asked so nicely. this doesn't mean i'm gonna stop messing with you, you know that right?"

he wishes he could take a picture of how sweet your smiled looked in that moment.

"of course hyuck, i wouldn't want it any other way"

blooming hearts — 15. IM MARRIED

previous — masterlist — next

notes : finally we’re getting somewhere!!! y/n basically friendzoned him but haechan has finally accepted he kinda likes her 😊 i hope the transition from y/n’s pov and haechans made sense if not then im so sorry.

taglist : @nanaxwi , @swee7dream , @mwahaechz , @jenocity23 , @nctrawberries , @seunghancore , @minkyuncutie , @taeeflwrr , @starwonb1n , @mystverse , @jising-jisang-jisung , @beommii , @sunghoonsgfreal , @starfilledgaze , @loveholicness

[spicycinnabun]

Good Omega

written with @batty4steddie for day 7 of @steddie-week! we used prompt ‘free space’ which we chose to fill in with rockstar!steddie and omegaverse. 🤘

wc: 19k+ ⋆ rated: e ⋆ tags: a/b/o dynamics, band au, friends to lovers, omega!eddie, alpha!steve, praise kink ⋆ tw: implied past sa, negative self-talk, smut ⋆ read on ao3

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“Damn it!”

Eddie glanced up. He leaned away from the mirror where he had been carefully smudging smoky black along his eyes. He spun around on his stool. “What ails thee, Sir Gareth?”

“My AntiScent,” Gareth answered, putting his head in his hands. “I fucking ran out. I thought I still had some left.”

Ah.

Eddie stood and walked over to the red leather sofa. With his mammoth spiked platforms, he towered over the other omega.

“Been there.” Eddie placed a hand on Gareth’s shoulder and squeezed it, briefly scent-marking him to try and dissipate some of the distressed stink he was giving off.

Over time, they’d developed a sort of familial relationship as the only two omegas in the band. Eddie had gained the little brother he’d never had, and Gareth had gained a hot mess older brother who helped him survive the Alpha-dominated entertainment industry.

Eddie went back to his station and grabbed his kit, digging through it. “Fret not. You can use mine.”

“You sure?” Gareth asked, lifting his head hopefully. “Don’t you need them?”

Eddie tossed him the box. “Nah, not my first rodeo without ‘em.”

It was actually a relief. Eddie hated wearing blockers, which they all knew since he was frequently bitching about it. The closer he was to his cycle, the more of them he needed to keep his scent contained. They itched like a motherfucker and made him feel contained. It was like wearing a prison, like chains with locks wrapped tightly around his body—and not the fun, kinky kind.

While Gareth peeled and stuck on the patches, Eddie finished getting ready with a bit more pep in his step, fogging the room in a cloud of hairspray. 

The stage manager popped her head in to tell them they’d be ready for them in about half an hour. Eddie groaned, spinning in place and vibrating with pre-show energy. He wanted to go now.

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Eddie’s scent was clouding the dressing room unexpectedly when Steve walked in. Usually, hairspray was the only thing he could smell. Eddie hadn’t put on his blockers yet.  

Steve’s mouth suddenly became very dry. He hadn’t talked much that day, trying to preserve his voice as best he could before the show.

He grabbed a water from the mini-fridge to hydrate before trying to settle on the couch. He couldn’t sit comfortably in his jeans, so he lounged back carefully in hopes he wouldn’t pop a button. They weren’t leaving much to the imagination. Everyone could see the outline of his cock and knot in them.

Steve had gone all out on his outfit for their last show. With his short-sleeved, spandex gold button-up that was almost completely open, he was displaying an impressive amount of belly and chest hair, even for an Alpha.

He hadn’t eaten much, either. His pants were way too tight to handle any food. It certainly didn’t ease his hunger with Eddie’s scent filling the room. He smelled like an extremely buttery and spicy Snickerdoodle.

Steve was effectively distracting Eddie from his tantrum of impatience. It was their last show of the tour, so they’d all done just a little bit more than usual. They had to say goodbye with a bang. Always did. Steve was certainly gussied up. He was glistening in metallic gold. Fuck, he looked delicious.

“I said it already, but I’ll say it again: really love that color on you, sweetheart,” Eddie said, flopping over the arm of the sofa dramatically, his head landing directly in Steve’s lap as his legs kicked in the air. He looked up, grinning with all his teeth. “You look like a gold medal.”

It was difficult not to close his eyes and inhale deeply, not to pull Steve’s head down and thrust that sweet mouth onto his. Steve was half a week away from rut, just like Eddie was from his heat, and he could feel it thrumming between them like a live wire.

Eddie had lots of practice controlling himself around Steve and his ludicrously tempting scent. Sometimes—most times—Eddie swore it was made for his nose. Steve, his straight Alpha bandmate and best friend. Friend only.

Years of playing together, touring together, and long nights sleeping on the bus in their bunks only a few inches away from each other taunted him. Eddie had heard Steve jerk off more times than he could count. Had secretly gotten off with him and felt ashamed in the morning. Even more ashamed the time he’d called out Steve’s name with a one-night stand who definitely hadn’t been named Steve. (After that, he'd asked his partners to gag him.)

Steve knew Eddie’s scent well but didn’t get to fully experience it often. It was going to be all over him now. He was used to Eddie’s antics and closeness. He always enjoyed it. He loved omegas; they were so sweet, and they loved being close to Alphas, too. It truly hurt their feelings when Alphas weren’t receptive to their affections.

It was easy being friends with Eddie. He was encouraging and thoughtful, and he always made Steve feel good. Hearing the compliment made him smile really big. He was getting pumped.

Steve had only ever had one other male omega friend in his life: Tommy. He’d fallen in love with Steve, but unfortunately, it hadn’t been mutual, and they’d ended their friendship for good during their senior year of high school.

Steve had only officially met Eddie when he’d decided to audition for his band. He’d seen The Mind Flayer at The Hideout dozens of times before he’d seen their flier looking for a lead singer. They had been purely heavy metal and instrumental until Steve had joined. He’d always thought about singing, but it wasn’t something his parents—well, his dad—had encouraged.

Steve and Eddie had hit it off right away. Eddie was passionate about music and sharing his opinions. Even their clashes created beautiful musical harmony. Steve pushed slower songs with better beats and even some piano ballads, and Eddie pushed him to be louder, more emotional, and to really lose himself in the lyrics.

Steve didn’t care that Eddie was an omega. He was so talented with the guitar and had written some gorgeous songs. Steve was in awe of his style and energy.

Every fiber of Steve’s being had wanted to be a part of the band. He’d had a good feeling about it and never could have dreamt of the places it would eventually take them outside of their small town.

It truly blew his mind how successful they’d become, graduating from a van and bus to finally flying from show to show and staying in hotels. It had become so much fucking fun to sing his heart out and fool around on stage with his best friend.

Eddie turned his face into Steve’s bare stomach, nipping at his belly button with a playful growl. Steve wouldn’t question shit like that. Nuzzling, hugging, cuddling, wrapping himself around Steve like a snake—he was used to Eddie’s jokes and flirtations. Used to Eddie teasing him and scenting him and almost pushing their friendship into friends with benefits territory.

Eddie always toyed with the line, and it was made easy by the demands of their fans. The fans loved seeing him all over Steve—went absolutely bonkers for it—and Eddie was too happy to oblige. Steve always played along, too. He was a good sport and secure in his skin. The most tolerant straight man Eddie had ever met.

And good goddamn, he could act. He always made it feel real. It fucked with Eddie’s head and raging hormones. It was a constant torture, but that was the nature of their relationship, and Eddie was attached. He didn’t know what he was going to do when it ended.

Because it was going to end eventually. Steve wouldn’t be unmated forever. He would find his omega. Eddie always backed off when Steve had a girlfriend. Mysteriously, none of them lasted more than a couple months. Eddie figured it was because of their lifestyle. They were frequently on the road, making relationships long-distance and difficult.

But once Steve officially courted an omega, his and Eddie’s connection would change forever.

Steve was already feeling butterflies for their impending performance. The bites made him squirm a little and suck in. It felt like he was being scented, and Eddie’s tiny growls sounded possessive.

“My mouth is too empty,” Eddie told Steve. Whined, really. “We got candy? Cigarette?” Eddie made no move to get either of those things himself. He knew Steve would take care of him. He pouted pathetically. “Help.”

Steve pushed Eddie’s hair back and bit his lip. Usually, when Eddie’s mouth was empty, he talked a lot or treated Steve like a snack—like he was doing now. Steve slipped out from under him. “‘Course we got candy, Eddie bear. Gummy bears are on our rider, just for you. Let me grab them.”

Steve felt a bit better standing up and being of service to the omega. He lightly caressed his scent gland as he walked over to the treats. He had peanut M&M’s waiting for himself but knew better than to eat them before the show. He was jealous that Eddie could eat whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, and it never showed. He had the sluttiest little waist. Steve shook his head to rid the thought and tossed the candy to Eddie.

“Thanks.” Eddie caught the bag and opened it with his teeth, pouring an indecent amount of bears into his mouth.

As he stared up at the popcorn ceiling and noshed, his mind couldn’t help but betray him and conjure up a scenario where Steve had answered differently and occupied his mouth with something else.

Steve looked at himself in the mirror. “You’re gonna doll me up a little, aren’t you, with the eye stuff?”

Eddie jumped to his feet, gummy bears scattering across the floor. Oops. He set the bag down on the arm of the sofa. “Of course I am,” he answered with the confidence of a man who had not just been daydreaming about sucking his best friend’s dick two seconds ago.

Eddie usually helped Steve with his stage make-up. While the Alpha was an amazingly talented vocalist, his cosmetic skills were worse than a face painter at a pup’s birthday party.

Eddie knew more than any guy probably should have about makeup. In high school, he had been intensely into Dungeons and Dragons, which sometimes required costuming. Also, one of his close friends had been a cheerleader who had educated him on a lot of things—not limited to beauty and skincare—after she found out what a hopeless homosexual he was.

Steve perched on the dressing room’s stool, waiting patiently for Eddie to paint him up. The last time he’d tried putting on makeup himself, Eddie had laughed, which had bruised his ego, and then there had barely been any time for him to fix it before they’d gone on. He’d vowed never to do it himself again.

Eddie dug through his kit for his eyeshadow palette and popped it open, dabbing his thumb in glittering gold powder and blowing off the excess. “Close, please,” he requested.

It was hard for Steve to close his eyes because Eddie was so fucking pretty. Steve wanted to keep looking, but he obeyed the omega. Steve trusted Eddie. He always improved the way Steve looked, whether it was with makeup or outfit suggestions. Eddie’s dark aesthetic enhanced his preppy style, making him at least look more edgy. Eddie had that ethereal omega beauty most male omegas didn’t have. Truly, Steve never wanted to stop looking at him once he got started.

Eddie gently swiped his thumb along Steve’s eyelids and continued until the color blended to his satisfaction. “Done.”

Steve’s eyelashes fluttered open slowly, meeting beautiful doe eyes staring back at him. He smiled at Eddie sweetly.

Eddie touched Steve’s chin and turned his head for him so he could see the results in the mirror. “Look at that razzle dazzle.”

Steve blushed. Getting painted up was feeling way more intimate than it usually did.

Eddie grinned. “See?” He grabbed the same eye pencil he’d used earlier. Some liner would really make Steve’s eyes pop on stage. “Hold onto me so you stay still for this,” he advised. He had to lean in extra close to do this part, or he’d completely fuck up the lines.

Steve laughed at the instructions but quickly steadied himself and held onto Eddie’s hips. Steve rubbed them when he was finished as a thank you. Eddie’s hip bones were out of this world. “Thanks for making me half as pretty as you.”

Eddie laughed. Leave it to Steve to compliment Eddie when they both knew Steve was the better looking one. He was a gentlealpha for stroking Eddie’s delicate omega ego like that. “Stevie, you know better than anyone that beneath all the smoke and mirrors, there’s nothing but an ugly little rat of a man under here. You’re the beauty; I’m the freak.”

Steve made a face like he always did when Eddie insulted himself. He didn’t like it. He didn't think Eddie was ugly or resembled a rat. Regardless, he smiled a bit at the flattering remark. It made his chest puff out in the typical Alpha’s ego is successfully stroked fashion. 

He let go of Eddie but couldn’t withhold another stronger urge to give affection. As Steve stood up, he leaned in and nuzzled the hell out of the omega. It was an actual scenting, like the ones he reserved for his girlfriends. The breathy noise Eddie made in response and the jackrabbit kick of his heart confused Steve’s brain a little. He pulled back slowly, reluctantly.

The rest of the band shuffled into the room, interrupting them. Steve quickly checked his reflection again. Luckily, he hadn’t messed up what Eddie had just done, thanks to his big nose doing the brunt of the nuzzling.

They began their pre-show group huddle, and Steve gave them a speech reminiscent of his basketball and swim team championships. Gareth and Jeff’s eyes started to glaze over at the sports analogies.

It was dragging on a little, so Eddie slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders and cheerfully interrupted, “Boys, let’s rock and roll!”

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There was nothing like the roar of the crowd, the sea of excited faces waiting just for them, chanting their name as they ran out. Eddie would never get tired of hearing that.

The confetti cannons burst at the start of their first song, and Eddie’s blood sang along with Steve's.

By the middle of their set, Eddie had lost his shirt and shoes, but he was still getting service from Harrington, who kept gyrating his hips in Eddie’s direction and, at one point, had grabbed Eddie’s nipple ring with his teeth.

Near the end of the set, Eddie was so sweaty he could probably bellyflop and glide down the stage like a Slip ’N Slide.

There was a break in their current song, about forty-five seconds of instrumentals, and no vocals: Eddie’s guitar solo.

Steve took ten seconds to play the crowd, going to the edge of the stage and touching the hands of star-struck fans. One girl nearly fainted, her friends catching her when her knees buckled.

Eddie watched, mouthing, “Your majesty!” when Steve turned around. He stuck out his tongue, bratty.

It had its intended effect. Steve crossed the stage and got right up in Eddie’s space. He wrapped himself around Eddie, draping himself along Eddie’s back like a cape. One of his big hands, warm and alive and buzzing from adrenaline and holding the mic, splayed across his abs. (Eddie had those now. Actual abs.) Eddie’s stomach jumped a little, and he felt the vibration of Steve’s laugh, his breath hot against Eddie’s scent gland.

Then, Steve actually had the balls to press his lips against Eddie’s skin and drag his tongue up the side of Eddie’s neck.

That was new for Eddie—and everyone else. The crowd went wild. The girls screamed so deafeningly loud it almost drowned out Eddie’s guitar. Probably a good thing because he fumbled a note and nearly forgot where he was.

Steve laughed again. That absolute fucker. Steve couldn’t have the upper hand. Unacceptable. And the crowd clearly wanted more, more, more. (Just like Eddie wanted more, more, more. Off the stage, away from the audience, alone in their hotel room, on the bed—maybe cuffed to the bedpost.)

Eddie relaxed, tipping his head back onto Steve’s shoulder as his fingers sped up, hammering the frets. He panted out his breaths and pushed his sweaty body back against Steve’s, so Steve was forced to take his weight and hold him tighter. “Two can play at this game,” he hissed playfully.

Because he thought that was what this was. Steve was just playing for the fans, like always. They were competing over who could push this the farthest.

But then Steve looked down at him with something dark and inscrutable in his eyes, something not so familiar that made Eddie’s stomach swoop hard, and then he was tilting Eddie’s chin up and—

They were kissing. Eddie hit the last note on his guitar, and it rang out, his pulse rushing in his ears, his lips moving on their own to kiss Steve back. Too eagerly, too seriously to laugh off to everyone later as a joke, and he let go of his guitar, and it hung there while he reached up to grab Steve’s face and his hair that was still somehow perfectly styled, messing it thoroughly as Steve’s tongue ravaged his mouth.

That was new, too. They'd never kissed each other before. They'd gotten extremely close more than a few times, but like this, for real? No.

The crowd was roaring, but the world around Eddie barely existed until Steve suddenly pulled away and ran back to the mic stand, straddling it, singing to the crowd in a deep, breathy tone. Eddie felt dizzy.

Gareth shot him a look, subtly nodding to Eddie’s limp guitar, and Eddie quickly got with the program again—a huge, fake smirk pasted on that he hoped was convincing. Fuck.

Panicking a little and needing something to obliterate his sudden manic horniness and confusion, Eddie thought, What better way to do that than to dive into a crowd of smelly, sweaty people? Insta-boner killer and slick stopper.

Barb, Mind Flayer’s manager, was going to kill him for this.

Letting out a war cry, Eddie ran towards the edge of the stage and jumped, spread eagle.

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The second they stepped on stage, Steve felt on fire with adrenaline. Goosebumps erupted over his arms when Eddie strummed the first note that kicked off the show.

Steve shot a sultry look in Eddie’s direction as he grabbed the mic and hit his cue. It wasn’t lost on him that what really got the girls and guys going was him and Eddie. Steve shared the spotlight with him. Alphas fawned over Eddie, and the omegas and betas fawned over him. When they played it up with each other, everyone went wild.

It started innocently enough. Embracing Eddie’s body while he played his guitar solo. Eddie losing his platform shoes made him slightly shorter than Steve, and being shirtless made it easy for Steve’s hand to graze Eddie’s hot, sweaty, and toned stomach. His mouth had gone dry again, he was dying for a taste.

Eddie’s scent had been clouding Steve’s mind since he’d walked into the dressing room. Intoxicated, Steve was high off Eddie. He was going feral for him. The second his lips touched Eddie’s skin, Steve knew he was going to scent him much harder than he had earlier. He gave Eddie’s scent gland a slow, rough lick. He could feel the effect immediately. His pupils blew like he’d just consumed the most delicious drug.

He laughed because he was in shock at himself for doing that. The crowd's reaction was one of approval, he could only assume, by the deafening screams.

Eddie leaned back against him while he continued to skillfully play the guitar. Steve had no other choice than to stand there and get rubbed against by the smooth leather covering Eddie’s ass. The payback was sweet; Eddie knew exactly what he was doing to Steve. The rough material of his jeans naturally created a delicious amount of friction between them.

When Eddie looked up at him, Steve guided Eddie’s chin towards him and kissed him. They’d gotten close to kissing a couple of times, but at the last second, one of them would smile or pull back. Always playing, always teasing. This time, it really happened.

Steve knew better than to scent an omega without explicit permission, but his hormones were absolutely raging, and they both consensually scented each other in the dressing room. The way Eddie kissed him back was with enough vigor that Steve felt it in his bones. Eddie’s reaction made him feel like what he had done wasn’t wrong. Steve did his best to let go and not suppress his urges anymore. He was burning up and melting.

Why had he waited so long to…?

Oh fuck, the end of Eddie’s guitar solo was his cue to get back on the mic. While Steve wished it was just the two of them on stage, he had to finish the show.

He caught his breath while he pressed the mic back into the stand. When he leaned in to sing the last line, his Alpha voice simmered just below the surface.

Suddenly, the music stopped, and Eddie’s guitar was thrust into his possession. With his baby in safe hands, Eddie took a graceful nosedive off the mother fucking stage. He was quickly surfing his way through the crowd.

All Steve could do was stand there while a sea of security guards hustled to grab the omega before he got eaten alive. Steve felt a white-hot rage he’d never experienced before as Eddie’s body got violated by their fans.

God damn it, Eddie was his.

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The fans were about as enthusiastic to get their paws on him as Eddie had expected. At first, it was actually pretty fucking fun, looking up at the metal rafters and travelling on an ocean of different palms.

Then, it got a little less fun. The touches got more aggressive—grabbing, squeezing, and tearing at his pants. All of his rings and jewelry were taken. He almost fell to the floor a few times. Somebody yanked out a whole handful of his hair and made him squeal. He was like a gangly zebra in a pack of hungry lions.

He’d never admit it, but he was starting to feel just a little bit frightened. By the time security managed to wrangle him back onto the stage, he was howling with laughter, although around ninety percent of it was relief. “What a fucking ride!”

The rest of the band were waiting in the wings. Only Jeff seemed amused. “Dude, that was insane.”

Eddie’s pants hadn’t come all the way off, but it was a damn near thing. The top of his ass cheeks and pubic hair were on full display. Steve moved to shield Eddie’s body from prying eyes. “I got him,” Steve told their main security guard.

Eddie swallowed his tongue when Steve stepped in. He wondered if Steve even realized he’d used his Alpha voice on Reggie.

Then, Steve pulled up what was left of Eddie’s pants, making him squeak, and started herding him back to the dressing room.  

“Steve,” Eddie said, not knowing whether to laugh more, feel embarrassed or get irritated. He felt like a naughty pup. And why was it also making him kinda horny again? Ugh, hormones. “I know you're trying to protect my modesty here, but it’s nothing a million people haven’t seen already.”

The paps had caught him with his clothes more than a few times in the past. Skinny dipping, drunkenly mooning someone, the list went on.

The dressing room door closed behind them, hushing most of the noise. Eddie got steamrolled by Steve’s scent. Usually, he smelled comforting, like a warm chocolate chip muffin. Now, that muffin was incredibly burnt.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked, his voice naturally dropping to something lower and softer. Without the laces, his pants were a losing battle. When Steve let go, Eddie didn't bother to pull them back up again. Steve was seething. His baseline low rumble was currently a loud, angry growl emitting from his throat. No, Steve wasn’t okay. He couldn’t even smell Eddie anymore. His warm, buttery cinnamon cookie scent was gone, and any trace of his own scent on Eddie was long gone, too. All of it was buried under at least a hundred different scents. They all were flooding Steve’s sensitive nose. The concoction made his stomach hurt and his skin crawl. Eddie took that as a no. Steve looked pissed. Smelled pissed. Sounded pissed. They were all probably pissed that he’d ended the show abruptly like that. It must’ve just seemed like he wanted the attention—which, granted, wasn’t untrue because he loved attention even at the worst of times, but… “I didn’t mean to ruin the show.” “I don’t care about the show,” Steve replied. It didn’t feel like it was Eddie’s modesty that he was protecting. It was Eddie who Steve was trying to protect, albeit too late. Eddie had been so careless it made Steve sick to think about what could’ve happened. He was completely disheveled.

“You reek,” Steve blurted out, unable to hold back his emotion or muster any tact.

Eddie almost flinched. It was small—a barely noticeable hunching of his shoulders. Steve had never told him he’d smelled bad before, but of course he did after so many people had marked him.

It wasn’t like Eddie enjoyed having all their scents on him. It felt pretty repulsive, but doing what he did had given him something he’d needed. Being passed around like a toy by the crowd had bitch slapped Eddie back into reality. Steve hadn’t been scenting him for real. That kiss hadn’t been real. It had only been for show, no matter how much it had felt like Steve had wanted him in the moment.

Steve took his shirt off and threw it on the floor. He wasn’t planning on it but wasn’t above throwing a hissy fit. He crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet, even though he felt like stomping them like a pup who hadn’t gotten the toy he’d wanted. His own scent had turned bitter. He knew it. What had he scented Eddie for? Why had he kissed him? Steve swallowed. He knew why he’d done it, and it hurt that it didn’t seem to mean anything to Eddie. Eddie seemed like he was okay—more than okay. He was acting like he’d had such a thrill and that it had been so much fun.

Steve was close to his rut, so it made sense he would be scentsitive and irritable, especially since he had to share a room with Eddie and would be sleeping near him. Maybe his rut was coming sooner than they thought.

Steve finally looked directly at Eddie, and that was when he noticed. “Fuck. You’re bleeding.” “I’m fine, Stevie,” Eddie said, giving the Alpha a smile that felt uncomfortable on his face. “I can barely feel anything. My scalp is just weeping because it’s gonna have to do some work to regrow that.”

Steve swallowed his pride, uncrossed his arms and went over to get a better look at Eddie’s head. He made a soft noise when he saw Eddie’s hair was just gone in one spot. Granted, the man had a lot of hair, so it could easily be hidden, but it still looked bad. He’d been wounded. “That’s gotta hurt. We gotta get you cleaned up, man.”

Some bruises were forming on Eddie’s alabaster skin, too, and Steve noticed all his accessories were gone. Eddie’s favorite belt, bracelets and rings.

Any other time, Eddie would have squeezed Steve’s shoulders to calm him, but it was clear that his touch would only make things worse right now. Steve looked so tense. He was shirtless. Steam was practically rolling off of him, and his scent wasn’t easing up. 

While Eddie was calm, crashing after the high of his ridiculous stage dive and body surfing stunt, Steve was just getting hotter and hotter.

Eddie grabbed his sweater from the crushed velvet armchair and pulled it on. The adrenaline started to wear off, making him cool down rapidly, and his hands began to tremble. Whether it was from nicotine withdrawal or the little stunt he’d pulled, or maybe both, Eddie didn’t know.

He realized too late that the sweater wasn’t his but Steve’s, and muttered an apology. Steve’s unburnt scent was embedded into it. Eddie resisted the urge to pluck the neckline up over his nose and hold it there. They borrowed each other’s clothes all the time when they were on the road. He’d have to make sure it got washed before he gave it back.

They only had one more night together before they all parted ways. Eddie was flying to Hawkins to visit Wayne for a few days before returning to his home in West Hollywood to ride out his heat. He didn’t know when he would see Steve again—maybe not until a few weeks later for their post-tour photoshoot and interview with Rolling Stone.

Steve spun in place again. Stopped. Eddie was wearing his yellow sweater. That gave him a tiny bit of relief. He liked Eddie wearing his scent more than he would admit. He also didn’t like it when Eddie was exposed when it wasn’t entirely his choice.

He shook his head. “We should head to the hotel now. I don’t think the afterparty is a good idea tonight, Eddie.”

Steve knew Eddie wouldn’t like his opinion, but he didn’t care.

Eddie glanced at Steve and then away, leaving the Alpha’s side to dig in his bag by the mirror for his jeans. He turned as he removed the tattered leather pants, kicking them into the garbage bin, and only turned to face Steve again once his jeans were zipped and buttoned. “Why isn’t the afterparty a good idea?”

The night was still young, after all. Eddie didn’t really feel like partying, but maybe getting blackout drunk would stop him from climbing into Steve’s bed and begging for more of what had happened on stage, which could very well happen if he stayed in. Eddie knew he’d be having slick dreams for weeks, if not months, of that fucking kiss. His mind already had it on replay. “Don’t think it’s safe. Not this close to your cycle. What if someone from the crowd got the wrong idea and took advantage of you?” Like they could’ve done when you threw yourself into the chaotic audience. Steve wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if something bad had happened to Eddie. Even if it would’ve been his own damn fault. He felt responsible for what had happened, almost like what he’d done had triggered Eddie to do it. Then, actually not being able to do anything to protect him was too much. He could control the situation by saying no to the party. “So, we’re going back to the hotel now.”

Whether you like it or not, Steve thought. He started to gather up his stuff and called for Barb to get them a car.

Eddie wasn’t as careful as an omega should have been, and Steve knew it. It worried him to no end when Eddie would go off to be with some rando after a show. If tonight was any indication of how reckless Eddie could be, Steve couldn’t imagine what else could be pulled and with who. 

Eddie paused, taken aback. They both knew he was an omega who was capable of protecting himself. He could be wildly irresponsible, too, but his self-defence skills were on the same level as an Alpha’s. The response only solidified in Eddie’s mind that Steve was very close to his rut—and for some reason, Steve’s pre-rut instincts were being directed towards Eddie.

He guessed it made sense, considering how close they were. Steve had no other omegas he’d been around as frequently as Eddie lately besides Gareth, but their relationship was more formal.

Eddie didn’t want Steve to come to the afterparty with him if he was going into rut. Forget Eddie; Steve could be taken advantage of. Eddie loved the guy, but he was painfully oblivious about some things.

He also didn’t want Steve to be alone in their hotel room while he went out. Not because Steve could potentially find himself a rut partner and bar Eddie from the room…

…Okay, exactly because of that.

Eddie opened his mouth, but Steve had already moved on from the subject and was trying to move out the door.

“Wait—“ Eddie stopped Steve with a hand to his bare, very furred chest. “You’re going to make the omegas faint if you go out like that.”

Christ, Steve was really warm. And he wasn’t thinking clearly. Eddie quickly let go when he noticed Steve reacting badly. He pulled out a tank top from his duffle and held it out. It was threadbare and soft—not likely to irritate Steve’s skin.

Steve put his hands on his hips and turned around. He didn’t know what to do. He was burning up, so he didn’t want to put the shirt on. He wanted to get the fuck out of there and take the coldest shower he could stand. He dropped his hands and took the top. The scent on the shirt was untainted Eddie, so he wasn’t going to object. Making omegas faint was a thing that had happened, but only a couple of times. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, so Steve complied. Luckily, it was just a tank top, too. He didn’t think he could handle a shirt with sleeves.

“Happy?” he asked Eddie once he pulled it on, magically feeling a little calmer.

Steve looked even sluttier now than he did shirtless, somehow. “Still going to make them faint,” Eddie muttered, stepping into his boots and hiking his bag onto his shoulder. 

Steve heard the quiet comment as he led the way out. It made him smirk, but he knew he didn’t have that effect on Eddie anyway. He’d never make Eddie faint.

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The rest of the band weren’t ready to leave yet and would get a separate car, so they said a quick goodbye.

“See you at the after party?” Jeff asked them, his arm around the shoulders of an omega groupie who was giggling into his neck.

“Maybe,” Eddie hedged.

At the same time, Steve growled, “No,” with enough force to raise Jeff’s eyebrows.

“Alright.” Jeff shrugged, happy to ignore them as the groupie murmured something in his ear.

Steve was deaf to Jeff’s response and blind to the slutty female omega hanging on his arm. He was too busy glaring at Eddie for having said maybe. He had said no and meant it. Neither one of them were going to the after party.

Eddie wrapped his arms around his middle as they exited the theatre, and security escorted them to their waiting car. A few paps got pictures of them despite security’s efforts to shield them.

Steve’s brow softened. Usually, they would huddle close together to make it easier for security to block them, but not this time.

Steve followed Eddie into the car. The smaller space wasn’t helping his nausea from the cacophony of scents still raging.

“You want me to shower in Gareth’s room?” Eddie asked once they were settled in the backseat. To be courteous to Steve’s scentsitivity. Gareth wouldn’t mind.

“No, of course you don’t have to shower in Gareth’s room. You can take the first shower, though.” He’d feel better once Eddie was in the safety of their own room and smelled like himself again. The ride wasn’t tense exactly, but Eddie could feel how much Steve didn’t want to be in the car with him. He was pressed against the door as far away from Eddie as possible. Eddie tried not to wilt in rejection.

Steve rested his hot forehead against the cool window. He felt bad for telling Eddie that he smelled bad, but he was angry, and Eddie really did fucking reek. “Sorry about what I said,” Steve added. “We had a good show. It was fun.”

Eddie was surprised by the apology, but he shook his head. “It’s okay, Stevie,” he answered softly.

He had an incredibly overpowering urge to take off his seatbelt and remove all distance between them. Climb into Steve’s lap and cuddle the motherfucking shit out of him. He held onto the seat instead, knuckles turning white as he resisted.

It stung a little the way Steve sprang out as soon as the car stopped, but Eddie understood.

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“You could have been seriously hurt,” was the first thing Barb said to him as she approached them, leading them into the hotel. “I know you don’t like them, but we have safety protocols for you guys for a reason.”

Steve nodded silently in agreement with her but decided not to pile on as Eddie took the gentle lashings with a hangdog head and a sheepish smile. “I know. Won’t happen again, I promise.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Barb replied, but her glare softened behind her gold-rimmed glasses, and she smiled back at him after a moment. She left them with a compliment. “You did great out there, by the way. Steve, you’ve never sounded better.”

Eddie smiled a little as Steve’s face turned pink under her compliment. “She’s right,” he said.

Barb handed over their room key, and they said goodbye. Steve led the way to the elevator, Eddie trailing behind slightly.

When they entered the room, Steve dropped his bag, popped the button on his jeans, and fell back onto the bed. “Eddie. Shower. Now,” he ordered. He turned over on his side and grabbed the phone off the nightstand. “I’m calling room service. Do you want anything?”

The demand from Steve shouldn’t have sent a happy zing up Eddie’s spine, but it did. It made him wonder (probably for the millionth time since they’d met) what Steve’s Alpha voice would feel like. Probably fantastic.

“Yes, Alpha,” he sing-songed, dropping his duffle on his bed and kicking off his boots. “Pick something for me?”

Eddie didn’t feel like deciding what to eat, and Steve knew what he liked. He hadn’t eaten much since breakfast, too focused on prepping for the show. Steve might have fed him a few bites of his sandwich at lunch. He couldn’t remember. It felt like a long time ago.

Steve was still burning up, but the response from the omega made him shiver. He liked being obeyed. “Sure.”

“Thank youuu.”

Eddie went to the bathroom and closed the door. Didn’t bother locking it. His reflection almost made him laugh. No wonder everyone had had such a reaction. His makeup was smeared, and his hair was giving Medusa vibes. Those paparazzi pics were going to be interesting. He looked like he’d gone through a car wash without a car. “Bozo the fucking clown,” he said under his breath.

Even if Steve wasn’t straight, why the hell would he want this?

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Steve was starving. He was craving red meat and potatoes. He knew Eddie would want something lighter, so he ordered him a grilled cheese and the soup of the day. Then he ordered red wine, champagne and cake, too. Just because they weren’t going to the after party, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate.

While Steve wanted to undress, he figured he’d stay decent enough to answer the door. After he hung up the phone, he took off his shoes.

They were pretty high in one of the presidential suites. Their windows had no curtains, which had made sleeping in the night before difficult, but the view was worth it. Steve stood at the large window overlooking the city. He was still in a bit of shock that they were there. He hadn’t become used to the lifestyle or the fame yet.

Eddie’s shower was going on longer than Steve thought it would. He thought he heard Eddie cry out, but when he went to the door and pressed his ear against it, he didn’t hear anything else.

The food arrived pretty quickly, and Steve gave the bellboy a good tip. He poured some wine for himself and sat down at the table. The guy must’ve thought Steve’s mate was in the shower. He scurried around, insisting on dressing the table in a tablecloth. He lit two candles, too, making the room look incredibly romantic. Steve tried to tell him it wasn’t necessary but gave up and just allowed it since he didn’t feel like explaining.

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Now that he was completely down from his showtime high, Eddie felt everything that had been done to him. Every bruise was throbbing, and it would only feel worse in the morning.

His clothes hit the floor a few seconds later, and he stepped into the shower, eager to wash away the dried sweat, makeup, blood and itchy, filthy scents all over him.

He scrubbed hard and thoroughly, suddenly frantic to get clean, to be Eddie again so that Steve would like him again.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he hissed. The shampoo was burning in the spot where he’d lost hair. He quickly rinsed it out, and the water turned pink.

Once every speck of dirt and scent had swirled down the drain, Eddie finally turned off the taps and stepped out into the foggy room.

The dirty towels from that morning were gone, but the towel rack was empty. Hopefully, the maid hadn’t forgotten to give them fresh ones.

Eddie floundered a little, then went to the door, opening it and sticking just his head out. “Steve? Are there towels out there?”

“Uh…” Steve furrowed his brow, confused as to why there weren’t any towels in the bathroom. Their room had been cleaned. Their beds had been made, too.

He got up from the table and looked around, spotting an abundance of towels stacked neatly under the nightstand. Usually, towels by the bed were reserved for heats and ruts. He grabbed two and brought them over to Eddie.

Again, Eddie’s delicious scent hit him, and Steve’s stomach literally growled out loud.

Eddie heard it. Poor guy. Alphas in rut needed an insane amount of protein to feel good enough to function. Their bodies burned through it quickly since they used so much energy fucking people’s brains out, Eddie supposed.

Steve rubbed his stomach. “Ugh, I gotta eat, man.”

“Thanks. Yeah, don’t wait on my account, big boy. Go eat.” Eddie shooed Steve and retreated to the bathroom.

He dried himself, then wrapped one of them around his hips as best he could. The towels Steve gave him weren’t regular-sized, he realized. Had about as much coverage as a loincloth.

Eddie came out and kneeled awkwardly to dig through his suitcase. He wasn’t prepared for the scent that hit his nostrils, either. Steve had flooded the room with Alpha pheromones, and they were getting stronger by the minute. Enough to make him lightheaded.

Steve took the dome off his plate and found the juiciest steak but nearly choked on the first piece when he saw Eddie. Steve averted his gaze slowly, catching a glimpse not so accidentally. He made a happy little noise, and not just about the meat. Eddie’s scent had returned, and Steve could feel a rumble bubbling up in his chest.

Eddie grabbed some comfortable boxers and an old band t-shirt he’d had since he was a teenager. He’d cut it in half during a particularly scorching summer, so it left his midriff nice and cool. He didn’t bother going back to the bathroom to put them on, changing right there.

When he turned around, he noticed Steve sitting at the kitchenette table.

“Oh,” Eddie said, heat flooding his face. He took in the champagne on ice, the soft glow of the candles, the tablecloth. His stomach lurched. Steve looked like he was waiting for a date. “Are you—um, did you invite someone over? Do you need me to go?”

It was strange, considering Steve had been so adamant Eddie return to the hotel with him, but maybe he had called someone while Eddie was in the shower. He had to realize by now that he was going into rut.

“What?” Steve asked, furrowing his brow. “No, and no. I told you I was ordering food for us. They kinda thought it was more of a romantic occasion… but I thought that since we’re not going to the party, we could still celebrate.” Steve felt bad for putting a damper on their last night together for a while. “I know you like the bubbly stuff.”

The little knot that had tied itself in Eddie’s stomach unwound. “That’s thoughtful, A—Steve,” he corrected himself.

One time calling Steve Alpha as a joke was acceptable. Twice in the same hour put him in the danger zone.

Steve flashed him a smile and got up to pull the second chair away from the table so Eddie would sit with him. Steve stopped him before he did, leaning into his space to scent him gently.

He couldn’t resist. Eddie smelled better than the food and looked like a snack in his comfy clothes. Steve had to restrain himself from licking and nipping him. He had food. He didn’t have to devour Eddie…right now, at least.

Eddie didn’t think much of being scented. He accepted it with a head tilt and a relieved sigh that he hid with a breathy laugh. Family and close friends scented each other casually all the time—he took it as a sign he was back in Steve’s good graces.

The Alpha looked much more relaxed. There was even that endearing rumble tickling Eddie’s ears. Steve sometimes did that when he was enjoying himself. The hotel’s chef must have really nailed that steak.

“Are you happy with the choice I made for you?” Steve asked. “If not, I know you’ll like the cake.” Eddie loved sweet things, so Steve knew the cake would do.

Eddie resisted the urge to wrap his arms around Steve and hang onto him like a koala. He lifted the metal dome over his plate instead. Soup and grilled cheese were the second thing he was craving. The first thing wasn’t on the menu. “You always know what I want,” he answered.

Steve was attentive like that. When it came to everything except… well, you know. Nobody on earth knew Eddie better than Steve, not even his only living relative.

Steve was pretty pleased with himself after receiving Eddie’s compliment. It fed his ego perfectly. He reached for the champagne. “You wanna pop it? I know it’s like your favorite part.” He chuckled and handed the bottle to Eddie.

Using his thumbs, Eddie popped the cork on the champagne bottle. They cheered as it foamed over, and Eddie poured them each a glass before sitting in the chair Steve had pulled out for him. “To Mind Flayer?” he suggested. “And another tour success.”

They toasted.

“Are you looking forward to going home and sleeping in your own bed again?” Eddie asked once he had sat down and taken a sip of champagne, trying to ignore the way the candles were making Steve’s eyes look darker than usual. Eddie probably wasn’t going to survive the rest of the night.

Steve sipped from his glass. The liquid was refreshingly cold from being on ice. Steve hadn’t cooled down yet, so he threw back the entire glass to help do that. He wasn’t aware of what was happening to him yet—what Eddie’s proximity and scent were doing to him.

He wasn’t sure how to answer Eddie’s question. “I’m going to miss you.”

Steve felt his lips tingle after he said it. He knew it wasn’t just from downing the bubbly way too fast. They’d kissed. Steve hadn’t had time to process it or reflect because of what had happened after.

Eddie did a lot of things that made Steve want to kiss him. Naturally, he was adorable, but finally, Steve had given in to his impulses. It wasn’t Eddie who’d instigated it, but he’d kissed Steve back, and Steve couldn’t quit thinking about it. Their kiss hadn’t been chaste. Steve had been able to taste the gummy bears Eddie had eaten and everything.

He’d always had a feeling Eddie had a thing for him. He’d tried his best to ignore it, feeling like it wouldn’t be right even though he played into it on stage. They’d never really crossed the line.

Off stage, he’d tried to be with women, but he hadn’t been able to commit to any of them. Weirdly, he felt like he had been betraying Eddie, and he hadn’t found anyone significant. He hadn’t been happy going through the motions every time their tours ended. He was not looking forward to going back home and being alone in his bed.

“I’ll miss you too, dude,” Eddie said, hiding a pleased smile behind a bite of grilled cheese. Maybe the casual use of dude would help deflect the way his scent perked up like a flower in the sun.

Eddie didn’t miss his place one bit. He was thinking of getting a cat. Now that the tour was over, he would have plenty of free time he wouldn’t know what to do with. Getting a pet was a solid idea. Eddie had never had one before. Cats were cuddly and warm and could take up some of the vast space and silence in his house. Maybe he would get several cats.

“It’s so hot,” Steve complained.

He had to take the tank top off. He pulled it from the bottom up and over his head in one fell swoop. Steve sighed as he let it drop to the floor, which only helped slightly.

He reached into the champagne bucket for ice. Steve got a piece and moved it up his neck to his jaw. It felt so good that he moaned a little, but the ice cube melted in seconds.

Any thoughts about felines fell right out of Eddie’s head when Steve started molesting himself with an ice cube. Eddie’s eyes widened into saucers, fist clenching around his spoon. What in the wet o dream was going on here?

“Gotta get out of these fucking pants,” Steve added. While the button wasn’t attacking him anymore, the heavy fabric was roasting him.

Eddie tried to keep acting normal. The shirt was okay—Eddie was used to Steve losing that during the night, but when the pants came off, Eddie dropped his spoon and choked on his soup. It went down the wrong pipe. He coughed. Thumped his chest. “Usually, it’s tequila that makes people’s clothes fall off,” he wheezed.

Sweet baby Jesus, he was gonna die today.

If this were a date, Eddie would absolutely be getting lucky. But since it wasn’t—

“How about we open a window?” Eddie got up, giving the almost naked Alpha a wide berth as he went to approach the one closest to them. He grabbed the handles and heaved upwards. Nothing happened. “Christ, it's stuck.”

He tried again to no avail when suddenly two muscled arms appeared by his sides, and two big paws circled his wrists. “Let me try, Eds.”

“Good day, biceps, my fair gentlemen,” Eddie said to them.

The joke was weak due to the fact he sounded like he was being strangled. He could feel Steve’s body heat along his back even though they weren’t touching. There was a small, minuscule space between them. Steve was like a furnace. Eddie let Steve remove his hands from the handles, and Steve’s hands settled onto them instead.

Steve laughed. He was still reeling over the tequila reference. It only stroked his ego more. His Alpha had a raging hard on from the omega’s continued praise. It stupidly fueled his faith that he could get the window open for them.

He leaned into Eddie instead of suggesting he move. It felt like Eddie being sandwiched between him and the window was helping somehow. His scent was so strong; the aroma was like Steve had just walked into a French bakery. The freshly baked chocolate croissant was calling his name.

Eddie should have ducked out, but for some reason, he stayed frozen where he was. There was straining, veins bulging, and some grunting right in Eddie’s ear that he really had to try not to imagine in a different scenario.

Finally, he could bear the torture no more. Also, the window wasn’t budging. Not a fucking inch. (And, of course, that had Eddie thinking about how many inches Steve had in those paper-thin boxers.)

“Steeeve, I don’t think these were built to open,” Eddie said, not turning around and subtly clenching his cheeks because his slick was trying to make a damn prison break and also, hey, that was an erection. “Maybe we should try the air con.”

Why hadn’t he thought of that first?

Steve should’ve realized the window was sealed shut. Hotels didn’t take kindly to people jumping out of their windows. Eddie was right, even though opening a window was his idea. “Oh yeah,” he murmured, pulling back.

Steve went over to the thermostat and cranked it down, then moved to stand in front of the vent and breathed a tiny sigh of relief as the cool air blasted hard enough to blow his hair back. A happy rumble left his lips, and after a minute, he joined Eddie, who had returned to the table. “Wine time,” Steve declared.

He poured a generous amount into their glasses and sat back down. Steve’s temperature was no longer spiking, but Eddie was smelling more and more delicious. “Eddie, you smell so fucking good. I feel like devouring you instead.”

Steve reached for Eddie’s hand and tugged it across the table, pressing his whole face against Eddie’s inner arm and nuzzling his way up. Steve scented him again and playfully gnawed. “Would you be okay with that?” he asked, eyes dark and hungry. 

Eddie had folded his napkin strategically across his lap. He had barely recovered from what would forever be referred to in his spank bank as the window incident when Steve unleashed more on him. Eddie was glad he hadn’t taken a sip of wine yet because he would have sprayed it all over the table. Instead, he failed spectacularly to repress a noise and a full-body shiver.

Was he hallucinating? Had the loud concerts finally gotten to his ears and damaged them?

“Would I…” Eddie swallowed. Hard. Would he be okay with that? Fuck yes! “I think we should have some cake! You probably just have a sweet tooth.”

Steve was leaning across the table, almost like he was going to kiss Eddie again (sweet mother of fucking mercy). In a desperate attempt not to give in and just let it happen, Eddie snatched his arm back and picked up his fork, stopping Steve’s trajectory with a big mound of cake. “Here, eat up.”

Eddie didn’t give Steve much choice unless he wanted icing smeared all over his face. While Steve worked on his mouthful, Eddie picked up his wineglass and threw it back, throat working as he downed the whole thing and stared determinedly at the wall instead of Steve, who was still trying to penetrate him with his eyes.

Jesus, who’d never listened to Eddie once in his entire life, help him.

“Alright, Alpha— fuck, Steve, you’re going into rut,” Eddie said. It didn’t feel right—not morally —no matter how happy his omega was by the turn of events. Steve seemed not in his proper mind anymore. At all. “You are in a vulnerable state. I can’t let this continue, even if I do want to offer my body as dessert.”

What was he saying? Was the wine already hitting him? He wasn’t really a wine drinker, but surely his tolerance for it wasn’t so weak. Eddie deflected and ripped his arm away so swiftly that Steve couldn’t compute what had happened. Since Eddie had shoved the cake directly into his mouth next, he couldn’t even make a noise in protest. The rush of moist chocolate cake wasn’t what he was craving. It was too much. Steve tried not to choke on it. He had difficulty chewing it and getting it down, so he had to sip the wine to dissolve it quickly. He wasn’t happy that Eddie had done that or about what he’d said. “You didn’t wear your blockers tonight,” Steve pointed out when he could finally talk. He still had enough sense to know that he wasn’t hot and bothered for no fucking reason at all. He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth free of icing and crumbs.

Eddie was hot as hell, so there was always that, too, but he’d scented Steve. Threw himself in Steve’s lap and scented his entire stomach when he’d bit at it. The antics in the dressing room had only escalated on stage, and being that close and intimate enough to kiss an almost ripe omega had accelerated it, too. “I don’t have to worry about you taking advantage of me. And there isn’t a crowd of fifty thousand people you can throw yourself into in our room.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest.

Okay, so he still wasn’t fucking over that. He couldn’t stay mad, though. He cared about Eddie a lot.

Steve knew that he had the power to make Eddie succumb. He wouldn’t. He wanted and needed Eddie’s permission. Steve couldn’t take advantage of the nearest omega like some Alphas did. Eddie was the most important omega in his life. He wasn’t going to tarnish their relationship.

Eddie’s heart started to pound. “Gareth ran out of blockers. I gave him mine. I wasn’t trying to bait you or manipulate you or anything.” Not consciously, anyway. His instincts were a bit more tricky, but he hadn't had some slinky plan to induce Steve’s rut. “And even if I had been, I wouldn’t expect it to work. You’ve never been into me that way. Not in private.”

At least, that had been what Eddie had always assumed up until tonight.

As for his other behavior… Eddie shrugged weakly. He didn't have an excuse. “But I can’t always help the way I act around you.”

Eddie’s omega was convinced Steve was the one for him, and it was hard to argue with it.

Steve didn’t think Eddie was trying to do anything by not wearing his blockers, but he couldn’t deny what it had done to him. Steve already had a natural magnetic pull towards Eddie. He could never fully figure out why. He hadn’t gotten to experience Eddie’s scent like this until now. It was the missing piece.

Of course, Steve knew blockers were the best protection for an unmated omega, and they had to be worn constantly when they were in crowded public places. It kept Eddie safe against any Alpha that had bad intentions. It was imperative on show days where there were known to be rabid fans.

Steve reached out to touch Eddie’s arm again so the omega would look at him. “I know the timing is fucked up, Eddie, but I can promise that if I didn’t really want you, I wouldn’t have insisted that we come back here. Especially when you didn’t smell like you or me for a little while.”

That had really bothered Steve. He didn’t realize how much until now and what he’d blurted out. He’d never experienced it before. He didn’t like his omega smelling like anyone other than him. He knew he didn’t want Eddie’s scent to be tainted by anyone else ever again. Steve didn’t think it was his rut talking. He felt like claiming Eddie tonight so this wouldn’t happen ever again.

“The kiss on stage. Scenting me. That was for real,” Eddie said slowly. “Not just for the fans?”

It was maybe redundant after what Steve had just said, but Eddie wanted direct, verbal validation. Maybe it was the omega part of him.

“You’re the prettiest man I’ve ever seen, but chicks, man.” Steve thought he was one hundred percent straight. He had been a bit of a hound dog when it came to women. “Felt like I wasn’t allowed to,” he acknowledged. He thought he had to be with female omegas and hadn’t experienced a male one until he’d walked into Eddie’s band. Steve had always thought Eddie was attractive. He wasn’t blind. “You’re a guy,” Steve pointed out, then laughed because, yeah. “Obviously…” It had given him major reservations at first. Guys had liked him before, but he’d never liked any of them back until Eddie.

Steve had been apprehensive about fan service, but he was so comfortable with Eddie that it hadn’t felt wrong. It had only made their shows better. It had become fun to push the boundaries of his sexuality and their Alpha and omega dynamics. It had pushed other people’s buttons and had gotten them talking, making their band even more popular and Eddie a gay icon. “It was real,” Steve confirmed. “I wouldn’t kiss you for fan service, especially not for the first time. I couldn’t help it… I had to.”

Steve hadn’t been thinking. His hormones had been raging—still were—and his real feelings had taken over. He wasn’t sure if it’d make headlines since the more pressing news was the epic stage dive.

Eddie waited patiently while Steve explained his feelings in his own way, not trying to interrupt, just letting him work it out. It was probably the most quiet and attentive Eddie’d ever been in his life, but this was Steve. He was fucking important.

It all made perfect sense, even though part of Eddie still couldn’t quite believe his feelings were being reciprocated. And hey, what, hello, prettiest man he’d ever seen? That could not be correct. 

He thought it tragic that Steve had thought he wasn’t allowed to like omega men all this time. Didn’t surprise Eddie, but it made him sad and angry at their closed-minded society for drilling that into Steve’s head.

“I wanted to keep your scent on me.” Eddie touched Steve’s hand, upset with himself. Steve seemed genuinely wounded by what he’d done. He always got a little waspish when he was hurt. “I only jumped because I panicked. I didn't think it was real, and I didn't want you and everyone to see how much I…”

Eddie stopped. Poured himself another glass of wine because it was suddenly confession hour, and he was spilling his guts. He had been dreading this conversation since the day they’d met. Had hoped it would never happen because he had never pictured it ending well. He didn't want to lose Steve, and he was sure that would happen when Steve figured out just how deeply Eddie felt for him. This wasn't some light-hearted puppy love, as much as Eddie tried to twist it that way in his head when he was “harmlessly” flirting.

“I just don’t think I can do this if…” Eddie took a deep breath and looked Steve in the eye, ”…if it’s going to be a one-time thing. I feel more than want for you, Steve—more than like for you, and I have for a long time. I’m not asking you to claim me,” he added quickly, nervously. “You don’t, uh, have to do that. Obviously. Just—I’d want to date you.”

Hearing Eddie's confession melted Steve’s heart a little. “You wanna date?” he asked. “You’ll allow me to court you? So, if we fucked tonight, it wouldn’t be in sin after all?”

Eddie went to toy with one of his rings but forgot it wasn't there, and he ended up rubbing his mating ring finger in an accidentally telling way. He smiled uncertainly. “I don’t want to be friends who fuck. Or friends who fuck and then go back to being just friends. Don’t think I could stand it, honestly.”

Steve’s teasing smirk softened. “Honestly, I don’t think I’d be okay if I never even got the chance to claim you.”

Steve knew his rut was responsible for him wanting to claim Eddie right now. He felt ready because he’d been so angry about not getting to have Eddie in the first place that he just wanted it to be official already. He knew he hadn’t scented Eddie thoroughly enough, so he got up and dropped down in Eddie’s lap.

Eddie’s body was practically vibrating with need for contact. Like Steve knew that, he was suddenly there, sinking his heavy, reassuring weight on Eddie and laying that delectable chocolate scent all over Eddie’s neck. Eddie leaned back with a groan, making the chair creak (it probably wasn’t suited to hold the weight of two grown men).

“Babe, consider me courted.” Really, it didn’t take much more than that. This was his dream come true. Eddie laughed, and even that sounded like he was in ecstasy, threaded with a deep purr that didn't make an appearance very often. “Besides, you’re the one who needs my courting before I pop your cherry.”

Two could play at the teasing game, always, and Eddie was relieved to get back to their banter. Now, it was just sexier. Steve was a virgin who’d never experienced men before, after all—and there Eddie was, unworthy but happy as hell and honored to be the one to give him all the experience he could ever want.

“Hello, thunder thighs.” He meant that in the best way possible. Eddie squeezed them greedily because he was allowed to do that now. He tipped his head up to look at Steve, putting on his silky omega voice. “You know, a few perks come with dating a male omega, and one of them is…”

It had been enough time that his legs no longer felt like cooked spaghetti. Eddie stood up, taking all one hundred and sixty pounds of Steve with him, and dropped his sweaty body onto the bed. Eddie smirked. “ We can do shit like that.”

Steve was turning red, his temperature spiking again. It was a first, getting carried and thrown onto the bed like he was the one who was going to get fucked. Eddie was strong. Steve didn’t hate it.

“That was hot,” Steve said, rumbling as he pushed himself to sit up. He pulled Eddie by the shirt and guided him into his lap. “Don’t think you should be wearing this anymore.”

Steve removed it for him, and as soon as it was off, he went in for a kiss. Eddie tasted sweeter than he had on stage. It felt good to be kissing again. Properly, without a time crunch, and in the privacy of their room where they didn’t have to stop.

All of Eddie’s weight baring down on him felt good, too. Steve’s hands settled on Eddie’s ass. They needed something to hold onto. Since Eddie had shamelessly groped his thighs, it was only fair that Steve kneaded Eddie’s ass like dough through his boxers. It was the only other fluffy part of Eddie’s body besides his hair. Steve had always admired it.

“For the record, the only thing that’s getting popped tonight is my knot,” Steve promised, locking eyes with Eddie.

Like a trained dog, Eddie’s ears perked, and his pupils visibly dilated at the word knot. He’d been trying not to think about Steve’s most of the night. Trying very hard not to think about it stretching him out before locking inside. You know, respectfully, you didn’t think about your best friend’s knot fucking you stupid, especially when said best friend was in the room with you. (It was a little different when you were alone in your bed at 2 AM with your Turbo Knotter 3000 buzzing away.)

Now, that was mostly what was on Eddie’s mind as they kissed again, and Steve massaged his meagre ass like it was more than what it was. Eddie couldn’t resist rocking his hips in Steve’s lap, gushing slick like a river in preparation for it. The other thing that was on his mind was how desperately he didn’t want to fuck this up. He couldn’t be a lousy lay, had to be a good omega, the best omega, couldn’t do something to ruin this—but with his track record…

The thin material between them wasn’t leaving much up to the imagination. Eddie had a big cock—he acted like he did, too—so it wasn’t a surprise for Steve to feel it poking in his stomach. Steve smelled Eddie’s slick and then felt it saturating Eddie’s boxers. He was pleased. He knew he’d done a good job turning an omega on when slick started. He was ravenous for it and its source.

Steve broke the kiss to speak in his Alpha voice. “Let me get you out of these, baby. You soaked them, didn’t you? Just for me. I made you get that wet, huh?”

It was a shock, the filth that spilled from Steve’s mouth. Eddie was stunned into almost bashful silence (which wasn’t right because he didn’t do bashful), an aroused flush blotting his cheeks and working its way down his neck. He’d never experienced Steve’s Alpha voice. It was better than he’d imagined. Between his thighs, he throbbed with want.

In the past, he may have heard Steve’s voice through the paper-thin walls of the motels they used to stay at, but that was more painful than stimulating since it had been directed at whoever Steve had brought to his den for the night.

“Just for you,” Eddie echoed with a dumb smile.

Steve smiled devilishly. He pushed Eddie’s boxers down over his ass, then laid him back at the end of the bed so he could take them the rest of the way off. “I’m totally keeping these, by the way.” Steve sniffed them playfully, then tossed them to the floor.

Eddie had been reduced to a lovesick, brain-dead groupie. Future him would be sickened remembering his impulse to do anything for Steve’s voice. The way his body melted under it. He was glad he had the mattress underneath him for support. He was so wet, now rid of his boxers that Steve apparently wanted to keep as a snack for later, that he was making a puddle on the bed. “They’re all yours, gorgeous. Have them.”

Way to be subtle, Munson. Might as well have said you own me.

Speaking of owning, Eddie didn’t touch his dick, even though it was arching up along his belly and painfully hard, flushed dark red and ready for use. His omega was telling him that also belonged to Steve now. He could do whatever he wanted with it.

Steve sighed, rumbling deeply at the sight before him. He didn’t know where to start.  He spotted some slick on Eddie’s milky and much skinnier thigh and leaned down to lap it up with his tongue. “Fuck, it’s good,” Steve praised.

He got down between Eddie’s thighs and licked and sucked his way up to the source, lifting Eddie’s legs for full access to his ass.

Eddie’s breath hitched. Steve liked how he tasted?

“Been a while since anybody��s been down there. Might have to clear the cobwebs and bats out before you start.” A crappy joke. Eddie began rambling. Why was he fucking nervous? Oh yeah, because he was living his fantasy. He should have drunk that second glass of wine. “Thought I might have to be your teacher during this quest, but you—mh!” Steve’s lips were kissing his hole, his tongue circling Eddie’s sensitive rim. Eddie whined, legs closing briefly around Steve’s head before he got ahold of himself and opened them again. “You seem to be doing okay down there without my tutelage.”

Tutelage? Did he just say tutelage in the middle of sex?

Steve would’ve laughed if his mouth wasn’t busy. Eddie was so fucking cute. He was hungry. While he hadn’t eaten ass before, he didn’t hesitate. His need for Eddie was the driving factor behind his confidence. The fact that it had been a while since Eddie had an Alpha between his legs pleased Steve, too.

Eddie’s slick was delicious. Steve took his time licking and kissing. All he could think about was making Eddie feel as good as he could, considering it’d been a while and that he didn’t even know what the fuck he was doing. He just wanted Eddie to feel treasured and give him some good foreplay.

Steve’s face was getting messy. He loved it. When Eddie’s thighs put him in a headlock, he figured what he was doing was good. He could fuck him easily with his tongue. The texture was new, but the gush of slick onto his tongue made him hum happily. This was the sweetest slick he’d ever experienced. It was so addicting.

Eddie groaned. “M’already fucking this up, aren’t I?” Eddie closed his eyes, sinking his fingers into Steve’s hair, which was still semi-stiff and crunchy from all the Dippity Do. He tried to relax and stop thinking so hard. “Swear I’m usually better than this.”

Not too many of his past partners had done this to him before. Eddie wasn’t particularly interesting down there. His cock he was incredibly proud of, but he knew as far as omegas went, his ass was kind of a snore. Being up close and personal with it like Steve was probably wasn't as exciting as Steve was used to. Eddie knew he didn't compare to any of the curvy female omegas Steve had been with.

Eddie was fine with his lack of assets now, of course, but when he’d first started hooking up with Alphas, the lack of compliments had felt admittedly shitty, especially when he knew other omegas got a lot of them during sex. He’d had to work extra hard to get praise and attention there or pretend he didn’t care. Felt like he didn’t deserve any.

Now that he was famous, guys would tell him anything he wanted to hear and more, but it was rarely genuine.

Steve was confused. What was Eddie talking about? He was having a good time. He was working his way up to getting laid. They both were, but Eddie was worrying about being a good omega. Steve didn’t want to, but he had to stop and keep Eddie from spiralling. He licked up from Eddie’s hole, along his taint and balls and finally lifted his head to look up at him.

“You know, whenever I’m getting head, I never think about if I’m doing a good job.” He had to tease. He just wanted Eddie to enjoy this.

Steve was sitting up, which made Eddie panic a little, thinking things were ending, but it was probably for the best since he was starting to tense up so much that his slick had nearly stopped. He laughed weakly and resisted throwing an arm over his eyes. “Perk of being an omega: constantly needing validation.”

All omegas were whores for praise. Eddie didn’t want to be needy, but his biology just dictated some things for him. It was annoying, more times than not, but it was who he was.

“You’re perfect, Eddie. Look at my face.” Steve smiled, soft and big and genuine. “I’m so happy.”

Steve rumbled as he moved up Eddie’s body, kissing everything, his dick, stomach and chest. When he got to Eddie’s neck, he scraped his canine teeth along it.

Eddie made a noise, torn between embarrassment and that natural euphoria pleasing the Alpha elicited. Perfect? Was Steve telling the truth or just pitying him? It felt genuine, was the thing. Steve wasn’t a liar.

The command to look was easy to follow. Steve did look happy, actually. His cute little brown eyes were sparkling, the lower half of his face messy with slick, hair messy, debauched. Eddie smiled back, a gentle purr vibrating through his chest. 

“Being with you like this is making me so fucking nervous, Stevie,” Eddie confessed with a chuckle as Steve laid kisses on him that felt like little electric buzzes against his skin. As if it wasn’t obvious already, and the way his heart was pounding like Gareth’s drums under Steve’s lips. “I’m a wreck. I’ve thought about this—you—a lot.” Don’t want you to regret me.

There was a low ache in Steve’s belly when he got his mouth on Eddie’s neck. His knot started throbbing. Eddie’s words were music to Steve’s ears. He was so close to biting; his mouth was watering. Eddie’s scent gland was right there.

Eddie pulled Steve’s hips into the vee of his legs, his hands travelling down Steve’s heated back and caressing it. When he felt the sharpness of teeth near his gland, his nails dug in, making Steve gasp, and his eyes fluttered closed. “Fuck,” he breathed. His pulse sped up even more, finding a new rhythm like it was learning a song. “Careful, sweetheart, you might…”

Mate me.

“Don’t be nervous, Eddie bear. I swear I want to. I want you,” Steve said with a possessive growl. He kissed the spot tenderly instead of heeding the warning.

His mating mark would look so good there. Everyone would know Eddie was his, and no one else could claim him. Why wasn’t he claimed yet?

Steve didn’t really know why either of them hadn’t found their mate. Maybe they were waiting for each other. Steve felt a relief tonight for the first time since he’d met Eddie. Eddie had always been closed off to him in a couple of ways. Through their friendship, the band and scent blockers. Their heat and rut schedules were always planned and purposely spent apart.

Steve also didn’t know why he hadn’t taken off his boxers. It was the last thing separating them from full-body contact. Steve moved to get them off. He was still burning up, knowing there wouldn’t be any true relief until he was knot deep inside of Eddie. He sighed a little when he was free and rolled them onto their sides so they could kiss again.

He’d missed Eddie’s mouth. While they kissed, Steve found Eddie’s hand and moved it to wrap around his cock. It needed attention immediately. He wanted Eddie to feel how hard he had gotten because of him.

Somehow, hearing Steve’s sweet nickname for him in the Alpha voice made Eddie’s blush deepen. He tried not to pant like a bitch in heat at the declaration, but it was hopeless. He was gone, gone, gone. Mating bells were ringing in his head. Steve sounded greedy for him. Holy shit. Steve wanted him for keeps. Eddie would do a little jig if he weren’t, y’know, horizontal and busy being utterly seduced.

They were making out again, and Steve’s thigh was between his, pressing up against his wet and sticky cock. Eddie groaned into Steve’s mouth at the friction. It was funny. Eddie had never enjoyed kissing all that much until today. Don’t get him wrong; it was fun sometimes, but more often than not, nothing to write home about. Like, he could do without it easily.

It was nothing like this. Steve tasted like cake and wine and Eddie’s slick, and he knew how to kiss an omega. They fell into sync naturally, both of them going back in for more and more like they would die if they stopped.

Eddie’s lips felt swollen when Steve grabbed his hand—Eddie was a little contrite to note he had just been clutching onto Steve’s side like a lifeline—and guided it to his big, gorgeous cock. It was so heated in his hand. Hard as steel.

“Eddie, baby,” Steve rumbled sweetly in between kisses. “You feel me? You did that because you’re so fucking hot. You have the sweetest slick.”

Eddie squeezed, though he was the one who gasped and shivered as Steve continued to stroke his ego. That was what he’d done. Made Steve hard for him. “I-I feel you,” Eddie responded.

Steve nudged his nose against Eddie’s. “You’re making my knot hurt.” He whined a little as he met Eddie’s gaze.

Eddie ran his thumb along Steve’s throbbing knot reverently and felt an echoing deep throb in his hole, slick running down the back of his thigh.

“You’re gonna let me pop it, huh? I’m gonna fill you up so good. You’ll feel full,” Steve promised. He planned to absolutely ruin Eddie for any other Alpha’s knot. Only his was going to fit. He pulled Eddie’s thigh towards him so he could have access to his ass.

Steve’s rut smell was heady and thick in his nose. Eddie was so thirsty for him that his vision was glazed and blurring, and he was nodding like a bobblehead. “Yes, yeah, yeah, please. Want all of you. Want your knot. Please. Need it, Alpha. Please.”

That was three times he’d said please. His nerves had run away. He really just wanted to be fucked into next Tuesday by his (yes, his!) Alpha.

Steve’s fingertips met so much slick. He rubbed his thumb against Eddie’s hole before pressing his index and middle finger inside. His eyebrows rose, feeling the resistance around his fingers. He slowly twisted his wrist, drilling his fingers to get them in while watching Eddie’s face.

By the time Steve had two fingers inside him, Eddie was so turned on his eyes were trying to roll up in his head, and his leg was trembling around Steve’s hip. Fuck, it felt good. No, it felt fucking incredible. Steve had thick, long fingers. Eddie had watched them closely and touched them when he’d taught Steve how to play the guitar a few years back. (He’d also jerked off furiously after each teaching session because… well because.)

“I know there’s this spot...” Steve worked Eddie open. His tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth as he focused on feeling it.

Steve’s concentrated expression was hilarious and endearing as hell, but Eddie was in no state to tease him because Steve had found his golden ticket.

“Oh god, oh my god, oh my god,“ Eddie moaned. Too loud, too loud, shit. It had only been a short, experimental press of Steve’s finger pads, but it left Eddie shaking like an overstimulated chihuahua and gushing slick.

“Fuck yeah, there it is.” Steve grinned and added a third finger, readying Eddie to take his knot.

Eddie’s hand had gone limp around Steve’s dick since his brain had leaked out of his ears, but he got with the program again and renewed his grip, stroking Steve from knot to tip to the same rhythm Steve was fingering him.

The head of Eddie’s cock knocked against Steve’s from the fast motions. Eddie whimpered and tightened around Steve’s fingers as pre-come jetted out, hitting Steve’s chest and getting caught in his hair. “Steve, now? Now, please? I’m gonna co—not gonna—make it.”

Fingering was hot and a lot of fun. Steve loved using his hand first. He knew, without the declaration, that Eddie was going to come. “Oh, Eddie,” he said. “Baby, you can come now. I promise it won’t be the only time you’ll get to.”

Steve kept his fingers firmly inside of Eddie. He wasn’t going to stop, especially with the way Eddie was quivering. He was going to make it happen. It’d be cruel to stop and start again with him this close. Steve loved to get omegas off, especially without it directly triggering his own need to come.

It helped that Eddie was touching him. His hand was big and fit around Steve’s cock and knot perfectly, stroking everything. He moaned softly in Eddie’s ear. “You’re making me feel so good. It's so hot that you’re gonna come for me already. Just from my fingers? That’s amazing. You’re such a good omega. You’re easily pleased by your Alpha, aren’t you?”

Another shock to Eddie’s system was Steve’s… kindness towards him. Generosity. Those words didn't go together with sex. He wanted to make Eddie come more than once? Even though he was in rut that had to be demanding he just flip Eddie over and mount him already. It didn't make sense why he was putting Eddie’s needs before his own. It didn’t make any sense at all.

All the Alphas Eddie had ever been with treated him the opposite. It was never good omega. It was always bad omega. Needy slut. Desperate whore. You’re just pathetic for it, aren’t you?

And sure, Eddie looked like the type who would be into that sort of thing, he’d admit. His whole persona kinda screamed I’m a brat, put me in my place. He didn’t look like an omega who wanted to be treated nicely, and he’d never corrected anybody who’d assumed so.

But he was that kind of omega. It actually stung sometimes—okay, every time—he was called names like that. Made him feel as worthless as a broken guitar string. The worst part was that his partners had never had any problem crossing the finish line, even if Eddie had gone limp.

So this, being called good? Being hot? Making Steve feel good? Being his baby…Shit, it was like nothing Eddie had ever experienced, and it was hitting him so hard he probably could have come from the affirmations alone. Eddie was making animal noises instead of actual words. There was a direct line from his ear to his heart to his dick. The prostate stimulation was now just a bonus. The cherry on top.

Steve dug his fingers into the spot he found and jackhammered them as Eddie whined and came between them. Steve kissed him once more before gently pulling his fingers out and pulling back. “I can’t wait to give you my knot.”

Eddie had never come so hard in his life, and as the pleasure center in his brain lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July, it became Eddie’s sworn duty—his eternal vow—to make sure he was Steve’s good omega forever.

Eddie could barely kiss back, uncoordinated and panting. “No more waiting,” he swore.

Steve made a little show out of sucking Eddie’s slick from all three of his fingers. He rumbled at the taste. Afterward, he used his hand to push Eddie onto his back. There was a good amount of come on Eddie’s stomach, fresh and glistening. “Goddamn, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Eddie’s last brain cell took a swan dive to its death. Steve was acting like he was a delectable treat. Steve liked Eddie’s taste. Eddie was good.

Eddie flopped back bonelessly against the mattress as Steve maneuvered him, hair that was now mostly dry splaying out on the pillow beneath it. He watched Steve with hearts in his eyes, his post-orgasm scent overpowering the room and almost consuming Steve’s. He felt like he was floating, but also—

“Holy fuck, Stevie, you’re gonna kill me,” Eddie said, completely breathless. Steve had leaned down and was eating his come. The look on his face was predatory and ravenous. He let out a rumbly growl like he was still starving. Eddie’s abs clenched, and his cock gave a valiant twitch, aftershocks wracking his body before settling again as Steve finished his meal. He grinned. “And what a sweet death it’ll be.”

No way he’d rather go.

Steve hadn’t tasted come before. Eddie’s was good; salty and sweet but not as syrupy as his slick. “Definitely not going to kill you, Bambi.” That nickname slipped out easily with Eddie’s long, skinny legs in the crooks of his arms.

Eddie laughed. Now that the edge was off, he felt relaxed and happy, though no less needy. He could make sure his Alpha was taken care of. He wanted to make Steve feel more than good. He wanted to make him feel great and amazing. Eddie spread his legs a little more and lifted his hips, presenting his dripping hole as much as the position would allow. He clenched his muscles purposefully so Steve could see it gape open and closed, smirking playfully at the reaction. “Shove that pretty cock in me. Go as hard as you want. I can really take it.”

Steve didn’t have to hold back any longer. He could let his Alpha out and let it take him over, take what it wanted. Eddie was still soft—his refractory period was a lot slower out of his heat cycle, but he had no doubt he’d get hard again before Steve popped his knot. Honestly, probably as soon as Steve slid home.

The vision in front of Steve felt like a dream. The view of Eddie’s wet and prepped hole was perfect. It felt tight around his fingers. He watched Eddie control himself, and Steve’s jaw dropped in awe. “Okay, so that… that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Eddie grinned, a proud purr erupting from his chest simultaneously. He loved Steve’s reaction so much; how his face went slack and almost amazed. Eddie had done that to him.

Steve had to laugh in disbelief. He’d never been so turned on. He’d never had Eddie, so it made sense. Eddie was telling him he could… could go as hard as he wanted.

Steve was so hard. He didn’t want to hurt Eddie. He guided Eddie’s legs to wrap around him so he could take his cock. He made a noise as he touched himself to Eddie’s hole for the first time, eyes trained on the target. He had to thread himself inside an incredibly tight hole. His eyes widened in surprise as he pushed, and Eddie pulled him in.

“Christ.” He breathed through it. Hot, almost searing, pulsing pleasure surrounded him. All Eddie’s tight resistance would allow was a painfully slow descent. He was so tight it felt like he hadn’t even been prepped.

Eddie crossed his ankles, heels resting along the small of Steve’s back as Steve pressed against his waiting entrance. He was more than ready to be fucked, to be taken, for his ass to be claimed (for all of him to be claimed). It was a pleasurable surprise when there was no shoving. Steve went slow instead. Slow, slow, deliciously slow, filling Eddie up one thick inch at a time. With each push, Eddie let out a soft ah, head tossed back.

Eddie was fully hard again by the time Steve’s knot teased at his rim, rocking against him, and if he didn’t have self-control, tears might’ve sprung to his eyes at just how whole he suddenly felt. Like a fucking missing piece of him had finally slid into place, and Steve was that piece. Jesus Christ. How were his thoughts turning this fucking corny when he wasn't even in heat?

Steve fell forward and caged him in with his arms. Fucking face-to-face was new. Eddie didn’t do missionary. Usually, he’d just be bent over the nearest surface, standing, or on all fours somewhere. He was pretty well acquainted with rug burns and bruised knees. This was intimate.

Steve nudged Eddie’s nose sweetly with his own, then tilted his head back and let out a guttural moan. “Feels like you got me in a goddamn vice, Eddie.”

A small, overwhelmed smile touched Eddie’s lips.  The moan was deep, satisfied, and raised all the hair on Eddie’s arms.

This must have been Steve’s first time. It made sense. Female omegas didn’t have a sweet spot in their ass like guys did. Of course, that didn’t stop greedy Alphas from using that hole anyway, but Eddie was quickly learning Steve was considerate in bed. He probably hadn’t fucked any of his girlfriend’s asses. He was too sweet. The thought was oddly comforting. (Eddie’s head was fucked up, man, okay. He knew it.)

Eddie watched Steve’s face, enrapt, and pet his hands down Steve’s shoulders and chest, wanting to touch. Steve was a beautiful Alpha. Pleasure looked so damn good on him, and he deserved so much. Eddie couldn’t believe his luck. What had he done to deserve him?

There was absolutely no give for Steve’s knot yet. He was used to some. Certainly, Eddie had taken a knot, maybe not as big as his, though. The realization inflated Steve’s ego.

Moving got easier as Eddie adapted and stretched more for Steve as he started moving his hips. “Good omega, you’re so tight for me. You’ve probably never had a cock this big and thick.” Slick started pooling as if on cue, and it made Steve smile. “You’re getting ready for my knot.”

Steve could feel it when he really started fucking Eddie. Eddie was so wet it felt like he had gone into heat for Steve. Steve picked up the pace, rumble growling as he slammed in harder with every thrust, rocking his knot. Steve was feeling frantic, his heart racing and knot throbbing.

“I’ve had guys tell me their dicks were as big as yours,” Eddie replied with a hitched moan. He cracked a grin, toes still curled from the second good omega of the night. Eddie had never smiled or laughed this much during sex before. It was fun. The most fun he’d ever had with anyone. “Always a disappointment. But you’re… fuck, fuck! ” A deep thrust had Eddie spasming around Steve and adding shakily, “Really living up to your nickname, big boy.”

That was the last thing Eddie could say for a while. The mood shifted. His hands were pressed to the pillow on either side of his head, and his fingers interlaced with Steve’s as they went harder and faster until Steve was drilling into him.

Again, it was incredibly intimate. The most vulnerable Eddie had ever felt, and it had nothing to do with the pounding his ass was taking. He was more than naked. His soul was bare. Steve was staring into his eyes like Eddie was the center of his universe—like nothing else mattered. He didn’t think it was just his omega hormones that were being dramatic and romantic. Was it?

Steve didn’t advertise that he had a big dick outside of sex. Sure, he’d mention it, like he just had in context. Eddie calling him big boy always made him blush. He hadn’t fully realized until now it was because of his dick. Steve’s face was already hot; he was sure it was crimson now.

Eddie felt so good he was questioning his sexuality altogether. Of course, he’d admired other men, but fucking one—fucking Eddie—he didn’t know it could feel this good.

Steve didn’t have any complaints about his past, but he didn’t want to fuck anyone else after this. It couldn’t be his rut making him want to claim Eddie. Steve knew he loved and cared about Eddie. He thought Eddie was gorgeous and talented. He was fun and funny, and Steve always felt nauseous when Eddie spent the night out when they were on the road.

The following day, he’d always show up disheveled, alabaster skin bruised and looking worse for wear—almost like he had escaped something dangerous. Steve never liked it, and his Alpha would get snappy. He’d end up blaming his bitchiness on his need for his morning coffee.

Claiming the omega could put a stop to Eddie’s reckless behavior. Steve had had about enough of it after the stage dive tonight.

Eddie’s back bowed, and he squeezed Steve’s hands like they were the only things tethering him to the bed. Whimpering moans punched out of him. It felt so fucking good, his cock was slapping against his stomach, and tears did spring to Eddie’s eyes then just from the sheer intensity of it all.

“Knot me, please?” he begged, feeling that molten hot buzz building up inside him too fast to control. He was about to come again. “Sweetheart. Alpha. Steve. I—I’m ready.”

And he was ready, so ready that I fucking love you had almost slipped free. It was true. It was way too soon to say that. He didn’t want to scare Steve away. But he couldn’t stop his next instinct. Chin lifting, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. His neck baring itself, begging to be bitten.

Eddie was begging for his knot. Steve could feel with his thrusts that Eddie was almost there. So was Steve. He’d been in pain, his knot and heart aching in sync.

Eddie bared his neck, and Steve dropped their gaze for the first time since they’d started fucking. He licked his lips. He knew he had to and that he was going to do it. Enough was enough, and Eddie was finally going to be his.

“It’s yours. I’m yours. You’re all fucking mine.” Steve squeezed Eddie’s hands because he was going to do it. Eddie was ready for it—ready for his bite and knot.

Eddie shuddered hard, moaning. He couldn’t believe his ears. His lucky, lucky ears. Steve was giving himself to Eddie, verbally claiming Eddie.

Steve leaned down and kissed the prettiest place for his mark to be forever. It was his favorite spot on Eddie’s neck; his hair could hide it, but part of it would always be on display.

Steve bared down, popped his knot and let out the most pleased, possessive, growly moan he didn’t know he had in him as he locked in and came harder than ever before.

Steve’s knot grew in Eddie. It filled him up, so full he could barely contain it, but he did, closing around it greedily. The noise Steve released as he came made Eddie feel like a prize Steve had won. He sounded victorious. He hadn’t even had to hunt. Eddie had submitted completely to him without being chased. He’d always been by Steve’s side waiting, after all.

Steve’s face buried in his neck, accepting Eddie’s offering. The skin broke under his canines, and Eddie cried out as Steve’s teeth sank deeply into him. It was painful, burning, white-hot stinging—but he loved it. He loved it so fucking much. He loved Steve so fucking much.

Steve tasted Eddie’s blood, signaling a successful claim. A rush of it hit his tongue, and he moaned. He sucked the wound gently and lapped his tongue over it for good measure, making it clean. He pulled back and admired it. It looked so fucking good on him. Steve had an omega now.

It felt like his heart was fluttering out of his chest. It was beating so fast from the amazing sex. Eddie did pop his cherry, literally. He was panting and sweating, his body lightly shuddering from the aftershocks of his orgasm and being tied to Eddie.

Eddie was going to remember this until the day he died. He was going to replay this memory whenever he could, was going to play Steve’s Alpha voice in his mind forever and ever and ever and ever and—

“Yours! Steve, I love you! ” he gasped. He came hard. Even harder than the first time.

Then he promptly passed out.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆.˚✮❤️️✮˚.⋆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Steve hadn’t gotten to touch Eddie’s cock, but clearly, he had come again. Steve was happy he hadn’t broken his promise. He was feeling a little bashful when Eddie told him he was his and that he loved him.

“I love you, too…” he managed to say, but Eddie hadn’t heard him.

Eddie was unconscious. Steve could’ve sworn his heart stopped. “Eddie!” he yelled, and immediately grabbed Eddie’s wrist to check his pulse because had his dick killed him?

Eddie wasn’t sure how much time had passed when his eyes opened to Steve’s panicked face above him. "Whoa. Shit, did I just…”

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” Steve said, still wide-eyed, though part of him felt like dying laughing for thinking his dick was capable of committing murder.

Eddie cupped Steve's cheeks with both hands when he was lucid enough to. He laughed in disbelief, stroking the apples of them with his thumbs. “Sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m okay. …Guess I’m not immune to that Steve Harrington fainting charm after all.”

Eddie tilted his chin up to kiss the Alpha (he couldn’t believe he was allowed to do that now) gently and languidly, tasting the sweet iron tang of his blood on Steve’s tongue.

Steve accepted the kiss because, yes, it would make everything better after the fright he had just experienced. It was kind of funny—or would be later when they told people the story of how they had become mates.

Eddie used the last dregs of his energy to roll them over so he was on top, straddling Steve’s knot—which still felt enormous and wonderful, and Eddie was already so addicted to it he was going to be knot-stupid for days. It would be a while before it went down and they unlocked, and he wanted Steve to be comfortable. He’d been holding himself on top of Eddie for a long time.

Steve gasped a little as the switch tugged his knot deliciously. He was happy to rest on his back and get to cup Eddie’s sweet ass. He petted it gently and smiled up at him. They were a hot mess, sticky and wet.

Eddie reached up to touch the marks on his neck with his fingertips. The marks that said Property of Steve. They were sore and throbbing in the best way. “Fuck,” he muttered.

He opened his eyes, unaware he had closed them. He immediately zeroed in on Steve’s neck. Unmarred, pretty skin, waiting for a bite in return. Eddie’s gaze flicked up, and he found himself trapped under Steve’s. His face suddenly flamed as he remembered what he’d said before the world had gone black. I love you.

He felt shame, especially because he was riding such a high right now—his whole body was vibrating with his purr, giving away his feelings that had already been so thoroughly outed.

He wanted to apologize for his behavior, for offering his neck like that when Steve was in rut and not of full sound mind. He’d just wanted it so badly. It had been selfish.

The apology stuck in his throat. Eddie just couldn’t bring himself to say sorry. It wouldn't be genuine. He didn't feel sorry.

“I hope it’s okay… that I did that,” Steve said. “You don’t have to do it back right now. You’ll let me take you out when we get home, right?”

Steve was going to court the hell out of Eddie.

Eddie was fucking floored that one, Steve thought he might not be okay with having been bitten, and two, Steve thought he was worthy enough, respectable enough of an omega that he needed to be formally courted. Eddie never thought he’d be one of those omegas who would get to experience that. As a celebrity, sure, but as himself, as regular Eddie? No way.

He didn’t need any grand gestures—Steve staking his claim was more than enough—but Eddie would admit that it did make his dumb little heart flutter to think about it —just a tad.

“Of course I’ll go out with you, pretty, but you don’t have to go through the trouble of romancing me.” Eddie flashed Steve a smitten smile that showed off his set of canines, much shorter than the Alpha’s but no less sharp. “I’m kind of a sure thing.”

More than kind of. Why play coy now? His heart was in Steve’s hands.

He’d have to bite Steve for their bond to take. Otherwise, his marks would heal and start to fade in a few months. A one-sided claim. The last thing Eddie wanted was for Steve to think Eddie was rejecting him. There was no way, in any world, in any fucking universe where that would happen. It was actually hilarious how unlikely it was.

“I just want to wait a little while. When your rut is over, and you’ve had more time to think about it,” Eddie added in a softer tone.

While part of Eddie—an extremely large fucking portion—wanted to latch onto Steve’s neck like it was a chew toy and never let go, the sober part of him wanted Steve to have some time, with a clear head, to make sure he really did want this.

Steve was slowly coming out of the fog of his rut, but he already knew that being sober from his hormones wasn’t going to change how he felt about Eddie. Eddie could make it official right fucking now, and Steve would probably sing Hallelujah. He was frustrated Eddie had told him he didn’t have to go through any trouble. “I do, and I will go through as much trouble as I think you deserve. Which is a lot.”

Steve wanted to take him on dates, buy him things, and, most importantly, love, protect and respect him. It wasn’t lost on Steve when Eddie told him before they’d started that he didn’t want this to be casual.

“You don’t have to spend your heats alone either. You have an Alpha now, and I’m going to take care of you.” Steve would’ve been dramatic about pulling out the stops if they had put off the fucking part during his rut, but he did think courting was important. Like most things, he’d overcommitted and claimed Eddie as soon as his knot had popped. It was what they’d both wanted deep down. Steve wanted to give Eddie experiences he’d never had, and there would be no more throwing himself into crowds or running off with lousy Alphas.

“Stevie…” Eddie murmured. He chewed on his bottom lip, filled with emotions. Emotions even bigger than the knot inside him. He didn’t believe he was deserving of it, of any of it, but Steve’s solid conviction was making him doubt that a teensy bit.

Nobody had ever wanted to take care of Eddie before. Fuck him, yeah, of course. But care for? That would be a significant change from his heat routine. “I’m going to take care of you, too,” Eddie promised.

He would. Even better than how he was taking care of Steve now. He had already been fiercely protective of the Alpha as his best friend, but with their friend barrier broken down (or levelled up), Eddie’s natural instinct would be to protect Steve and please him even more. Whenever Steve wanted or needed him.

Also, Eddie guessed he would be retiring the Turbo Knotter 3000—hopefully forever. Eddie should probably thank it for its years of faithful service. About a month ago, he had been looking at the new Turbo Knotter 4000 in a sex shop and had been planning on buying it soon. He was glad he hadn’t.

“It’s a good thing you never brought any of the Alphas you’ve been with around. I probably would’ve kicked their asses for not treating you like they should.” Steve knew they hadn’t, and it made him bitchy, witnessing his best friend getting mistreated. “Their loss,” he huffed.

Eddie couldn't repress his chuckle. Steve wanting to defend him was cute as hell but unnecessary. Smartly, Eddie didn't say what he was thinking—that they'd treated him fine, that it was normal for a guy like him to be slapped around during sex, never anything out of the ordinary.

In the past, he'd noticed a pattern of Steve’s bad moods swinging on the mornings after Eddie had been with someone. He’d be tense during soundcheck or snippy with everybody while they had breakfast. Eddie still didn't understand why it was a big deal, but he regretted upsetting the Alpha each time.

(He had a feeling Steve wouldn’t be very pleased if he ever found out tonight wasn’t the only time he’d passed out during sex. The other time, it had been after some erotic asphyxiation gone wrong. It had been unplanned, mostly unasked for, and after that night, Eddie had never tried it again. Or at least, he’d requested it not be done to him.)

Eddie had to kiss Steve again. More than just a need. It was vital. Eddie was amused and flattered to note Steve’s hands were still on his ass as he carefully leaned down.

“You’re just unreal, you know that?” Eddie murmured. His hair fell off his shoulders, curtaining each side of Steve’s face. He copied Steve’s move from earlier, giving him a gentle nuzzling, nose to nose, before kissing him thoroughly.

Steve’s hands navigated up from Eddie’s ass to his back as he kissed back with a deep, satisfied rumble. He rubbed it gently. Eddie smelled like him now. There would be no mistaking that he wasn’t Steve’s. It was incredible. It almost didn’t feel real. Could this be the best dream he’d ever had? If so, he didn’t want to wake up.

“Goddamn angel.” Eddie smiled at him. Steve was still wearing his stage makeup, looking particularly angelic, if not innocent, as he blinked up at Eddie in gold. “Do you wanna come home with me tomorrow? To Hawkins?”

Besides the fact that Eddie would probably (definitely) be climbing the walls and biting his nails down to the bone if they were states apart in the next few days, he knew Wayne would love to see Steve. Especially if they were going to be mated in the near future. Wayne already considered Steve to be like his son, so Eddie was sure it’d go over well and his uncle would be happy for them.

Maybe it would be better if Eddie gave Steve the space alone to think, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to curl up in the jet with his Alpha, then take him to their old puphood haunts and kiss him silly all over their small-minded little town. He had also long since bought Wayne a house to replace his trailer so they wouldn’t even have to sleep in Eddie’s old twin bed.

Steve laughed a little and blushed. What he had done to Eddie wasn’t angelic, but hearing Eddie say something so sweet about him made him smile. “Yes. I don’t want to go anywhere without you,” Steve said honestly. He didn’t want Eddie going anywhere without him either. “You’re my omega.”

Fuck, that was music to Eddie’s ears. Steve’s omega. “I am,” Eddie confirmed.

Steve gently tucked Eddie’s hair behind his ears so he could see his face. “You’re so pretty, Eddie.”

The compliments weren’t going to stop now that they’d fucked. Now, he could just say what he was thinking.

Eddie’s purr ratcheted up even more, though he complained with a quiet, “ Steeeve,” because he didn’t know what to do with himself. How to act. He’d never purred so much in his life. He was going to get a sore throat.

“It’ll be fun to go home. I want to take you on a date to the place we met.” Going back to The Hideout would be romantic, but it was probably still a dive.

Going on a date would be fun. They’d made a lot of memories at The Hideout. Eddie would never forget the first time he saw Steve’s face in the crowd, how preppy and out of place he’d looked surrounded by drunks in ripped jeans and leather, watching the band play—watching Eddie. But he’d fallen into place with them so quickly. The perfect fit.

Eddie smirked. “I fully expect you to get up on the stage and serenade me,” he joked. “Better get busy writing me a love song.”

Steve’s heart fluttered. “I think serenading you is all I’ve ever been doing.” He laughed at the realization. He loved to sing, but seeing Eddie’s reaction to him doing it almost brought the same amount of pleasure. “It’s funny that you think I’ll have to write one and don’t already have one up my sleeve.”

Steve had written about Eddie before, but now he had a hell of a lot more material.

Somehow, Steve had managed to turn his joke into the most romantic thing Eddie had ever heard. He didn't even have a response. Damn Steve and his smoothness.

“Its been so long since I’ve been home,” Steve added. “I think the pups will be happy to see us, though I guess none of them are really pups anymore.” Steve laughed and rubbed his hands over his face. He was always going to feel like the pupsitter.

Eddie’s smirk softened into a smile. Steve’s pups. Not his biological ones, but basically adopted. Eddie had herded them into the fold, but Steve was the one who’d taken care of them like the protective Alpha mother he was.

“I wanna fuck you at skull rock, too.”

“Oh, the famous skull rock.” Eddie turned his head and kissed Steve’s palm, then nipped it playfully. He batted his eyelashes. “Take me to prom, too? I’ll wear your corsage.”

He was sure his prom experience, had he had one, would’ve been much more fun with Steve on his arm.

“Yes, that skull rock. The one that I made famous.” Steve leaned up to nuzzle Eddie and nibbled on him for the palm bites he received. God, he was so insatiable now that he had gotten a taste. “Of course I’ll take you to prom! Good thing I got that pesky virginity thing out of the way. We’ll probably both be crowned prom kings.”

It was a fun fantasy to think about. He’d taken Nancy to prom, and he was crowned Prom King, but Tammy Thompson had been Prom Queen—which reminded him that Robin was going to fucking die when she found out that he’d claimed Eddie.

“I’m okay with being a queen,” Eddie said. He sat up, making them both groan, and motioned to his ass. “Clearly.”

Steve’s knot was fully deflated now, and Eddie’s legs were starting to go tingly from being folded so long. Eddie slowly lifted himself off. He didn’t want to be empty, but he had no doubt it wouldn't be for long.

Steve groaned softly when Eddie dismounted. He felt at home inside of him, but his knot had deflated, so they weren’t tied anymore. They had just been chatting away in the afterglow anyway.

He watched Eddie gracefully saunter over to the bathroom door even though Steve’s come was trickling down his legs. It was a sight for his sore eyes. He couldn’t wait to fill him up again and again.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, turning on his best British accent. “I’m filthy, your highness. Does the king care to join me for a royal bathing?”

Steve grinned at the invitation and leapt up to join him in the bathroom. He gathered Eddie’s hair to the side so they could see Steve’s mark on him in the mirror. Steve rumbled. He was so proud of it and Eddie.

He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s middle protectively as Eddie checked it out. Steve squeezed him tightly and kissed all over his bite. “Mine.” 

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 6

Every week I think I cannot possibly be having a better time with this show than I already am and every week I'm proven wrong. I LOVE IT HERE AND I'M HAVING A GREAT TIME!

Well Mut, I suffer from this condition as well. It's called Permanent Heart Eyes and it's incurable.

This is such a universal expression. Anyone who has ever watched someone they love eat something they cooked for them and enjoy it has made this face. Food is the greatest love language of them all.

Also, very pleasantly surprised to learn that Tongrak is a leftovers girly. I didn't expect him to be and now I love him even more.

Peat really has mastered the shift from 🥺 to 🥰. He does it a lot this episode and it barely takes him a full second each time, I love it.

When I tell you I COULD. NOT. LOVE. THIS. MAN. MORE. We only see him in profile when he delivers the last part of this line but this is a delightfully murderous expression. If I don't get a scene of Mahasamut cussing Prin out I'm going to be so disappointed.

The utter shock at hearing that Mut wants to hear about Tongrak from him. The quiet disbelief. The relief. I can't show it in a screenshot but Tongrak breathes out when Mut says this and his shoulders relax. No one has ever given this man the courtesy of asking directly if they want to know something about him and allowing him to decide if he wants to share things and Mut does it so easily.

The way he marvels at Mahasamut as it sinks in that he gets a choice, that he gets to decide if and how much to tell is just... it's lovely and completely fucking heartbreaking at the same time.

And because he was actually given a choice, he had no choice but to open up. Mut has made him feel so safe and respected that opening up becomes easy.

"Even though they have a complete, loving family with a loving father."

Stab me, it would hurt less.

No expression but the vibe is "I didn't say you could hug me but also I'm going to cling to you for dear life and try to burrow inside of your chest".

This is another one of those scenes that could have its own dedicated post and for which I would hit the picture limit immediately because the expressions were phenomenal and numerous so I'm cutting myself off.

Would you look at that. Tongrak opened up and now we're cuddling and taking a nap inside of the bedroom no one has ever been allowed to enter. Phenomenal. I'm so proud of this sleepy kitten.

Quick, someone google "how to tell your buddy that you're his husband's best friend's new sugar baby" for Mut he's asking for a friend it's him he's the friend.

THE CUTE AGGRESSION IS ETERNAL AND RELENTLESS.

Fort does the scolded puppy face so well.

Well aren't WE a jealous little jellyfish, Khun Tongrak? He's so bitchy I love him so much.

Not pictured: him refusing to speak first when he talks to Connor even though he's the one who called and the 30 different emotions he goes through during that call.

I spy with my little eye TWO jealous lil jellyfish. What's a group of jellyfish called?

*looks*

A bloom. There's a bloom of pouty jealous jellyfish in this house. I do love when "fights" are for silly reasons and everyone involved knows they're being ridiculous.

Side note: I covet this wallpaper. I need it on one of my bedroom walls immediately.

Also, I would like to do my clown check in for the week and point out that Vivi has solid-colored textured pillows and patterned pillows on her couch but Tongrak chose to cuddle the patterned ones.

We finally got to meet Tongrak's niece Meena and oh but she's a darling, precocious little thing. I also look at Mahasamut like this but you have no business doing it, miss thing, you're a baby! Same goes for reading your uncle's novels I say as someone who started reading romance novels when I was about her age.

2.7 seconds apart. I timed it. I'm saying it every week at this point but Peat, I love everything you do with your face.

And I am very quickly growing to love everything Nina does with that cute little face, too. It's good for Meena to see her beloved uncle being so loved by the beautiful man living in his house.

I have so much more to say about Meena but that definitely will get its own post because it's not limited to her facial expressions. There's a lot to unpack in this scene and in the cafe scene with her and Mut.

I mean--do I even need to say anything? I can't wait to reblog every single gif I can find of this scene because it had me screaming into a pillow like Tongrak.

I'm reaaaaally starting to hate the 30 image photo limit because it truly is not enough to capture everything I love in this feast of a show. Prepare to be so sick of me because there WILL be more posts about this episode.

Also, if you'd like to be tagged in my weekly ramblings about micro-expressions, let me know! 💖

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Part 6: Hot Tubs and Calloused Fingers✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I’ve had this one in the works for a while, and it’s finally here! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for beta reading 🩷

Chapter Summary: Your family decides to take you on a trip to Big Bear, California, and your dad brings Joel along. Can Joel keep his hands off you, or will you lose all control in the hot tub?

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 5.8k

Tags: Flirting, sneaking around, Dom! Joel, soft Joel, unprotected piv, fingering, dirty talking, teasing, hot tub fun, daddy kink, edging, no use y/n, no outbreak au

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

To make up for your parents not taking you on your yearly Galveston trip, they decide to surprise you with a weekend trip to Big Bear, California. One of your favorite little areas in the mountains to get away from the rush of Austin. It was all a nice surprise, but they forgot to mention one thing. That one teeny tiny thing was your dad inviting Joel Miller, your father’s best friend, your secret boyfriend who you’ve been seeing for a few months as of late August. What could possibly go wrong? 

   After a night out on the town, your father had the best idea to unwind before bed. That idea was to get in the hot tub and of course he mentioned it to Joel first, then the invitation got passed on to you. You didn’t know what compelled you to say yes, but you couldn’t pass up the rare opportunity to give Joel a little tease with your new royal blue bikini. You’d have him groveling over you in a heartbeat. 

   You wrap the white fluffy robe around you as you slide the clear glass door to the side, stepping out into the brisk chill of winter as you see your breath blow out like clear fog through the cold air. Your eyes glide across the glassy lake as white snow coats the towering mountains and pine trees in the near distance. It’s absolutely stunning out on the back porch of the two story lodge. Your favorite view other than Joel, who’s your most favorite view of all. 

   “Nice night ain’t it?” Joel echoes through the wind, his voice sinking into your chest as you smile and nod over at him.

   “Mhm. Beautiful,” you reply, turning in the direction of Joel’s voice. 

   “Gorgeous,” he says quietly, his eyes paralyzing you in place as he stares directly into your eyes, his little way of telling you he thinks you’re absolutely beautiful. 

   A small smile forms over your lips as you look up through your eyelashes and take him in fully. He’s sitting in the bubbling hot tub with a clear glass of whiskey on the rocks as he swirls the amber colored drink around in slow circles. He tilts his head back and takes a generous gulp as he drinks it down and sets it back down on the side of the hot tub. 

   You see his tanned, broad chest rise and fall above the water as he pushes his slicked back tousled curls away from his face, his flexed muscles making you bite your lower lip in response as you see the glossy sheen of whiskey coat his lips. You’d kill to be the alcohol on his big lips right now, would love nothing more than to lick his lips clean with your tongue as you lap up the taste of him. 

   “You’ve never been to the west coast, have you?” you ask as you take a few steps over to him, letting your fuzzy slippers trail along the snowy wooden deck as you sink your hands deep in the pockets of the warm robe. 

   “Nah, first time for me,” he replies as you take two more steps over in his direction.

   “So, how are you liking it?” you ask as you swish the bottom of your robe around, needing a distraction from his inviting eyes that you want to drown in, bathe in like a warm bubble bath. 

   “I’m lovin’ it. Mostly because I got to experience it with you, my little coastal girl. Always showin’ me new places, ain’t ya? My perfect girl,” he hums out as his honey eyes seem to reach in and wrap around your heart, tugging all your heart strings along as you take in the sweet Southern man that you’re head over heels for. 

   You shake your head and cross your arms over your chest, giving him your best puppy eyes as you speak into the calm wind. “And I’m never gonna stop showing you new places. If it was up to me, I’d drag you around the whole continent with me. I’d take you everywhere, Joel.”

   “Oh, baby. Just take my hand, I’ll follow you anywhere you wanna go. Ain’t ever met anyone like you before. You’ve got me locked down tight, darlin’.”

   You giggle and kick your slipper in the snow, your face probably flushed from blushing at his sweet, charming words. He always knows exactly what to say to make you blush. 

   “Baby, it’s cold out there. Why don’t you come in the hot tub? Maybe we can have a few minutes alone before your pops comes out.” He takes another sip of his whiskey, nursing it down as his cup sits half full. He probably tastes just like that brand of Jack Daniel’s he’s always drinking, and it makes your head dizzy just thinking about it. 

   “You don’t have to ask me twice,” you giggle as you walk over to the jetted hot tub, slowly unraveling the fuzzy robe as you gently slide it off your body and let it fall to the ground in a heap. 

   “Oops,” you smirk as you turn around and stick your ass out for Joel to ogle at as you pick up the fuzzy robe, making sure to take your time as you snap back up, feeling the material of the navy blue silky bottoms slide up more, exposing more skin as you hear a low “Fuck” coming from the direction of the hot tub. Jackpot. 

   You stand back up and whip around as you toss your hair over your shoulder and flash him your best innocent smile. Except you’re not innocent, not in the least bit. So you drag the edges of the bottoms up higher on your hips and do one more slow twirl for him so he can take in all your curvy features he loves. 

   When you face him again, you see him rake his large fingers through his thick scruff as he looks completely wrecked. His eyes widen as his mouth parts open as he nearly pants your name through his teeth, his eyes sliding down every single inch of skin as he takes you in nice and slow. That man is done for. 

   “Goddamn, darlin’. You look so fuckin’ good in that little bikini you got on. And one of my favorite colors? Are ya tryin’ to ruin me?” he asks helplessly as his fingers claw at the side of the hot tub, his breathing ragged as he watches you trail a finger underneath the thin strap of the top piece, the material barely covering anything as you picked one of the skimpiest swimsuits you could find online. You picked it just for him, just so you could tease him with it. 

   “Always,” you whisper, winking his way as you blow him a flirtatious kiss. 

   He chuckles as he shakes his head and moves to the opposite side of the hot tub, the side closest to you.

   “You’re such a tease, ya know that?”

   “Mhm,” you hum out innocently. 

   “You’re treading on mighty thin ice, darlin’.” He lifts a brow as he knits his thick eyebrows together, giving you that “You’re in trouble” look that you know will have you bent over his lap. 

   “Yeah? You wanna see me walk across the ice?” you smirk, your index finger lowering one of the bikini straps as you slide it down your arm playfully. 

   “Since you wanna be such a fuckin’ tease in that little bikini, why don’t you come get in the water? Let me show you just what happens to girls who wanna be a tease,” he smirks, his eyes growing dark as one eyebrow cocks up and his thick fingers curl over the edge, just a foot from where you stand. 

   You take a few steps forward, your toes padding across the wooden deck as you step in front of him, placing your hand down on the edge of the hot tub as your skin connects with his pinky finger. Warm, damp skin collides with yours. 

   “And what is it you’re gonna show me, hmm? Gonna teach me a lesson?” you smirk, your eyes growing wide as his calloused fingers curl around your wrist and pull you forward to where his lips are lined up with the shell of your ear. You gulp as his hot breath blows in your ear, feeling the warmth flow down to your stomach as it twists in tight knots. 

   “Oh, I’m gonna teach ya a lesson alright. I’m gonna bend ya over this hot tub and fuck you nice and slow until you’re beggin’ me for more,” he growls as he licks a thick stripe up your neck, his warm tongue making you dizzy as your bottoms fill with slick. 

   “Yeah?” you ask breathlessly, your voice clouding with need. 

   “Oh yeah. Gonna have my cock buried deep in that pretty pussy, baby. Gonna be so covered in your slick as I slide it in and out of ya.” He traces his index finger over your navy blue waistband as he teasingly dips a finger across the soft skin just below your waistline as you choke on a muted moan. 

   “What else are you gonna do to me, daddy?” You slur the name out as you bite your lower lip as he continues the teasing of his finger against your sensitive skin. 

   “Daddy’s gonna take these thick fingers and work them nice and slow over that gorgeous clit,” he smirks as he slides a finger inside your bikini bottoms, catching the edge of your puffy clit with his calloused thumb as you moan out his name. “Gonna make you come so many times, darlin’. Gonna fingerfuck you so hard that you-”

   Joel snaps his hand back and shoots across the hot tub as you hear the sliding door open, hearing your dad cross the deck as your heart races a million miles in your chest as you cling to the edge of the hot tub and try to calm your increasing heart rate. 

   That was close. Too close. 

   “Now the party can begin,” your dad chuckles as he twists open a beer bottle and takes a large gulp from the flute of the beer. You roll your eyes and climb in the hot tub, making sure to sit on the opposite side of Joel as your foot catches with his. 

   You look up hurriedly and see the wrecked look on his face, watching his pupils try to fight him as they flutter back and forth. Pulsing between calm and completely turned on. This was going to be a long night.

   You gently slide in the hot water and rest your back against one of the jetted walls, sighing deeply as you try to calm yourself down.

   “Move over, bud. Let me squeeze in right here,” your dad grunts as he climbs over the side of the hot tub and slides in, making the water splash over your breasts as the bubbles simmer over the top of the water. 

   Joel slides over to the middle of the hot tub, his knee grazing against yours as you flinch as the heat of his skin. You’re still turned on, you need to calm the hell down. Now is not the time. 

   “Claire doing okay?” Joel asks as he grabs his glass and takes a sip of the alcohol, the whiskey scent burning your nostrils as you smell traces of Joel in the whiskey. It’s intoxicating, making you want to grab the glass and trace the rim with your tongue. You know it tastes exactly like him. 

   “She just took a sleeping pill and went to bed, she’s out like a light,” he says as he takes another gulp of Corona Light, the condensation dripping down the bottle as he holds it in his heavy hand. 

   “Mom always gets bad migraines in the mountains, think she’s allergic to the outdoors,” you laugh as you look out at the midnight sky, the thick fog covering the clear coat of water across the dreamy lake. It’s so beautiful out here. 

   “Think you might be right,” your dad chuckles deeply as he chugs down another large gulp, “you were always the outdoorsy one in the family. Always dragging us to the beach or the lake or the mountains. Never one to stay inside for too long. Ain’t that right, Joel?”

   Joel looks over at you, his honey eyes sliding down your face as a small smile curls at the edges of his dark mustache. “Think you’re right, George. She’s a little adventurer.” You smile up at him, averting your eyes after a few seconds so your dad doesn’t notice how lovesick you really are over him.

   You feel his fingers brush up your calf, slowly inching up up up until he’s sliding his fingers back and forth over the back of your thigh, making your heart hammer in your chest as you feel the tingling sensations it brings to your center. Hot sensations and flooding warmth begin in your core. You’re burning for him. 

   “If only you knew her like I did, Joel. You don’t even know the half of it,” he laughs as he chugs the rest of his empty beer, popping off the tab on another as he starts to drown in that one, too. 

   You suppress a giggle as you look up at Joel from the corner of your eye, the two of you sharing a secret conversation as Joel winks at you with the glisten of his brown eyes. Your dad was the one that didn’t know the half of it. Joel knew you better than anyone else did, he knew you like the back of his own hand. He always paid attention to every little detail about you. He was the one who knew you, not your dad. 

   “So, how ‘bout them Cowboys this weekend? Can’t believe number nine got benched from the game,” your dad tsks as he brings the flute of the bottle back to his chapped lips. 

   “I mean, he didn’t listen to the coach. Can’t really blame him for benchin’ him,” Joel replies as his fingers trail higher, teasing the inside of your thighs as he grazes his nail beds smoothly over your sensitive skin. Suddenly, the hot tub is too hot, the water feeling like it’s boiling your skin alive as Joel’s touch lights your body on fire. 

   As your dad and Joel continue to talk about sports, Joel gets braver as he trails his calloused fingers higher, teasing the waistband of your bikini bottoms again as your eyes go as wide as an owl’s. You try to push his hand away, but he grabs your wrist with a strong grip and pins it behind him as he smirks at you from the corner of his burning eyes. 

   “Ya know, if they’d just listen and learn to take it then maybe they wouldn’t get benched,” Joel hisses with a rough edge to his voice, the words carved just for you as he pushes the material to the side and starts to work his thick fingers up and down your folds slowly, catching the heel of his palm on your clit as you latch on for dear life to his wrist. 

   You lean your head back on the sturdy edge of the hot tub as you bite your tongue and dig your fingers into his wrist as he works and works at your clit, feeling his thumb sink down firmly as he leaves tight circles that penetrate down to your core. 

   You close your eyes, letting the blowing bubbles of the jetted hot tub cover you as Joel’s hand is completely hidden from your dad’s view. No way for him to know his best friend is playing a dangerous game with his daughter, one that’ll only end in cries of pleasure. 

   Joel’s snide remarks are biting at your flesh, but it feels so fucking good that you just want him pulverize your insides with his experienced fingers. You want him to take what’s his, want him to bend you over and punish you for teasing him with your swimsuit, want him to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to stand straight for hours after, want him to take and take and take until he’s all you can feel inside you. 

   You hear your dad and Joel’s laughter carrying through the chill of the crisp air, but you’re in a far away place as you let your mind turn to mush. 

   You stare up into the bright, starry night sky and focus in on one particularly bright star as you squeeze your thighs around Joel’s fingers as they circle meticulously around your throbbing bundle of nerves. You start to close your eyes, start to unwind until you hear your dad clearing his alcohol filled throat on the opposite side of the hot tub. 

   “And why are you so quiet over there? Don’t have anything to pitch about the game?” your dad asks as he clicks his uneven nails on the edge of the beer bottle as he looks you dead in the eyes, just like he can see what’s really going on under the water. 

   You lift your head and gulp before speaking. “I didn’t really… I…” Your voice cracks as Joel slips a finger inside you, curling it at just the right angle as it reaches that soft spongy spot that always makes you drenched in slick. 

   Your eyes go wide as your nails dig into the skin of his forearm, squeezing so tight as you fight to stay composed. “I didn’t really… oh - watch the game, dad,” you babble out as you clench up around his thick finger while his thumb continues to circle your tingling clit. 

   “That’s too bad, kid. Gotta straighten this one out, Joel,” your dad tsks as he takes another swig of beer. 

   Joel smirks over at you with one eyebrow raised and his pupils expand into black pits. “Oh, I intend to.” The sentence makes your eyes blow wide. 

   You dig your nails into your thigh, so close to spilling yourself all over his calloused fingers until he’s pulling them away from you and leaving you with an ache that’s begging to be soothed. You reach for his wrist, but he pulls away and winks your way. He mouths “Later” to you, and you groan at the loss of his thick fingers. You were right on the edge, but he knew that. It was clearly payback for teasing him so much earlier.

   You rest the back of your neck against the side of the hot tub, trying your best not to get all worked up again. You might as well finish the job yourself, but not when your dad is right across from you. 

   Your dad downs the last drop of his beer and sighs, pulling himself up to a standing position. “Well, I think I’m gonna call it a night. Think I had a little too much to drink. Gonna go shower and fall into bed,” he says with a big yawn, stumbling out of the hot tub and throwing a lime green towel across his body. 

   “Night, George,” Joel calls as he tips his head to him. 

   “You two don’t stay up too late, got a big day tomorrow,” your dad laughs as he slides the glass door wide open. 

   “Dad, I’m not a child,” you groan, rolling your eyes at his response. 

   Your dad laughs and leaves you with a “Have fun but not too much fun” statement before he slides the door closed and leaves the two of you alone. 

   “Oh, we will,” Joel smirks your way as he takes another sip of his amber whiskey. 

   You roll your eyes at him and push him in the shoulder. “Thanks for almost making me come, real smooth,” you tease as you flick some water into his face. 

   “Jus’ gettin’ you worked up, baby. Wanted you nice and wet for me,” he says with his jaw ticked up, dark eyes smoldering in your direction. 

   You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Well, you had your chance, cowboy, and you didn’t finish. Maybe next time.” You move to the edge and stick your tongue out at him, adjusting your swimsuit bottoms to fully show off your ass as you turn to get out of the tub.

   Before you can step out, Joel grabs the back of your neck and spins you back around, dragging you down to where you’re pinned against his broad chest, sitting in his lap with your legs straddling his. “Where do you think you’re goin’, baby? I’m not done with you yet,” he smirks. 

   “Oh, you’re not?” You ask breathlessly, your heart hammering against your chest as you feel his cock hardening beneath his swim trunks. 

   “Nah. Jus’ gettin’ started, sweetheart.”

   He adjusts you to where you’re straddling one of his muscular thighs, your pussy still throbbing from the way he was working you up so good a couple minutes ago.  

   You almost ask what he’s doing until he nods down at you. “Well, go on now. Finish it,” he smirks. “Ride it out, cowgirl. Go on. On my thigh,” he chuckles as he undoes your swimsuit bottoms and discards them on the edge of the hot tub.

   You freeze, your mouth agape as you stare wide-eyed at him. “You want me to…”

   “Mhm. Go on, baby. Ride me. Wanna hear your pretty little moans when you come on my thigh, and that’s what you’re gonna do. Ain’t that right, baby girl?” He coos, eyes alight with fire while he sits back with his arms draped over the sides of the tub, waiting for you to put on a show.

   “Alright, brown eyes. Better saddle up, then. Might take you for the ride of your life,” you wink. “Oh and…” You open your mouth to say something else, but Joel yanks your hips down until your pussy is flush with his thigh, and then your hips start to grind down on him, making your clit drag against his large muscles.

   “Oh, fuck,” you moan, snagging your puffy clit again and again on his thigh as your hips start to move on their own.

   “There ya go, darlin’. Look so fuckin’ pretty ridin’ my thigh,” he growls, doing everything in his power to let you be in control. He wants to curl two fingers up inside you, rub your pretty little clit till you scream his name, make you see stars as you moan into the shell of his ear, till you can’t think straight, till you can only speak his name. He’s so possessive over you, wants to always be the one to make you come, but this time he’ll watch. This time he’ll just talk you through it.

   You groan as you ride him, your hands clinging around his wide shoulders as you scratch your nails into his tanned skin, bubbles blowing against the top of the water as you work up and down his large leg, moan nonsense under your breath as you start to lose control of the blissful high of your quickly building orgasm.

   Your brows pinch together into a tight line, your mouth drops open as you moan his name over and over and over while your pussy throbs against the coarse hairs on his leg. Your head tilts back as you close your eyes and start to leg go as the building pressure almost explodes.

   He watches you with dark, glossy eyes, a devilish smirk sitting on the edge of his mouth, slowly licking his bottom lip as he stares with smoldering eyes at his most favorite girl. He wants to devour your pretty pussy whole, but for now he’ll just enjoy you getting off on his thigh.

   “There ya go. Attagirl. Look at you go, baby girl. Absolutely gorgeous,” he breathes, his lips just waiting to taste your sticky cum, his most favorite dessert. 

   You snap your head up, open your eyes and then moan again as your bundle of nerves catches the edge of his thigh. “Joel, I’m gonna. Fuck - gonna come,” you groan, feeling the white hot feeling start to slide down the middle of your spine.

   “Go on then, beautiful. Come for me. Wanna see it,” he smiles, fingers curling over the edge until one hand sits waiting under water, ready to catch some of your cum.

   One more long drag of your clit on his thigh and you’re coming hard, falling against his chest and moaning into the shell of his ear as he holds you up and swipes two fingers against your throbbing pussy.

   He talks you through it, telling you just how good of a girl you are until you’ve come down from your high. Then you watch him take those same two fingers and pop them inside his own mouth, groaning against the taste of you inside his throat. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Always do,” he moans.

   Your forehead drops on the sweat of his chest, palms pressed firmly against his rippling muscles as you catch your breath, letting the warm water soothe your aching legs.

   He cups your chin and smirks down at you as a gleam in his eye twinkles with mischief. He isn’t done with you. No. He’s never done with you. “Already tired, sweetheart?” he tsks, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You know I ain’t done with you yet, baby. Not even close,” he says with clenched teeth.

   He quickly spins you around, grabbing your hips and pinning you up against the side of the hot tub. You have to grab onto the edge to keep from tipping forward, but then you feel a quick slap to your ass and then hear his swim trunks being pulled down.

   “Joel,” you warn, barely above a whisper, afraid your dad will come back out and find his best friend thrusted deep inside you. Your palms start to sweat, both from being hot from the water, the tension that longs in your spine, and the direct bolt of electricity that runs through your body knowing exactly what he’s about to do to you.

   He tugs your hair back until his plush lips are seared against the shell of your ear, his hot breath breathing down your neck. “Your daddy ain’t comin’ back out tonight, sweetheart. So don’t you worry your pretty little head, baby. Jus’ sit there, legs spread,” he demands as he places his knee between your legs and spreads them till his hand is running over your throbbing clit that makes a groan fall from your lips. 

   “You’re gonna take it, darlin’. Ain’t ya?” He pulls your hair again as his lips clamp down on your neck, making you rut your ass into his palm that sits in the water until you stifle a please from your lips. 

   “Joel,” you whine, letting him toy with your hardening nipples as one hand slips beneath your bikini top, practically begging him to take you. 

   “Yeah? You gonna ask nicely, baby? Gonna say please?” He teases, dragging your hips back so you feel how hard he is against your back.

   “Pretty please,” you beg as you feel him stroke his tip against your wet folds.

   “Since you asked so nicely, guess you deserve it,” he chuckles, lifting your ass partly out of the water so he has the perfect lineup and view. 

   “Look at you,” he purrs, admiring the perfect shape of your ass and your glistening pussy. “So fuckin’ pretty, goddamn,” he groans as he slips two fingers inside your pretty hole.

   “Ohhh,” you groan, feeling the stretch of his fingers curl up and down as the slick coats his thick fingers. 

   “Yeah? Want me to stuff you full with my cock, baby?” he asks with clenched teeth as you hear how absolutely wet and messy your pussy is.

   “Yes - yes,” you pant, reaching a hand back to run through his wet curls. 

   “Hold on tight then, darlin’. Gonna take you for a ride,” he chuckles as he pulls his fingers from your core, leaving you a panting mess till he pulls your hips flush to his and slowly thrusts in, stretching you to the max as he starts to ease in nice and slow.

   You wrap your hands around the edge of the hot tub, hear the water splash each time he fucks deep inside you, eliciting moans from your lips each time his tip kisses your cervix, feeling your walls clench down around him as he works you faster and harder.

   He pulls you flush against his broad chest, continuing to fuck up fast and hard into your tight pussy as he stifles moan after moan from your lips. You feel the heat start to take hold of you, feel your walls clench tighter as he takes you to the edge, feeling his balls slap hard against your ass as he takes everything from you.

   “Such a good fuckin’ girl, yeah. Takin’ this cock so good, squeezin’ me so tight, fuck,” he growls as he places his hand around your throat and turns your lips to his.

   “Joel, gonna… fuck,” you squeak as he thrusts deeper inside you, feeling how thick his cock works you over, right as you start feeling yourself falling over the edge of an orgasm.

   “Go ahead. Soak my cock, go on,” he instructs as he starts to slowly circle your clit, tipping you over the edge as you open your mouth and start to spill your slick all over his fat cock.

   He captures your mouth with his, swallowing your moans with his own as he licks feverishly into your mouth. You taste the whiskey that drips against your tongue, smell his usual intoxicating pine scent of his skin, feel his large hands settle onto the edge of your hips.

   When you come down from your orgasm, he breaks his lips from yours and settles your chest against the edge of the hot tub, his large hands holding you in place as he thrusts deep inside you, speeding up his actions, his hips snapping against yours as he takes you on the ride of your life.

   You hear the slapping of skin on skin, hear his stifled grunts, feel how absolutely wrecked he is as he thrusts in and out of you with repetitive motions. And it feels so good, you love when he fucks you nice and deep, love hearing him completely fall apart when he’s inside your core. You love everything about it, about him.

   He leans over and rests his soft scruff against your jawline, and you feel as he starts to break inside you. His eyebrows pinch together, his fingers scorch your skin, and he gives you one more deep thrust until he’s moaning your name and spilling his seed all inside you. 

   He takes his time pulling out, and then he collapses into the water and pulls you down on his hips after he tucks his softening cock back into his swim trunks. He kisses your forehead softly and pulls you into his strong chest, his calloused fingers running down your arms as he soothes you from your intense workout in the hot tub.

   You sit there just breathing the same air, watching the shiny stars paint the night sky bright, falling deeper into his touch as he leaves more gentle kisses against your skin.

   “Did so good for me, baby. Always do so good,” he coos into the shell of your ear, leaving you breathless as usual from his soft words.

   “You always make me feel so good, Joel. I’ll never get tired of this, never get tired of you,” you whisper against the scruff of his jawline.

   “Mmm. Never get tired of you either, my gorgeous girl,” he whispers as he leaves another kiss against your cheek.

   You close your eyes for just a second, enjoying this alone time with Joel, pretending it’s just you and him on vacation. You could get used to this, used to him taking you away on mini vacations. And you want that, want him, forever.

   It’s quiet for another minute, only the brush of his rough hands lapping against the top of the water with each stroke to your skin. “You decide on an apartment yet, sweetheart?”

   “No, not yet,” you sigh, slowly turning in his arms until you can see his large chocolate eyes looking down at you. 

   “You really liked that last one we looked at, didn’t you? The one with the balcony overlookin’ the pool.”

   “Mmm, yeah. That one was nice, but…”

   “But what?”

   You huff and mumble out, “But, it’s not your bed.”

   He chuckles and pulls you closer into his broad chest. “Baby, my bed is as much yours as it is mine. You’re welcome over anytime you like. Door’s always open.”

   You smile up at him and nod. “Yeah, guess you’re right.” 

   What do you expect? That you can just move into Joel’s apartment unannounced, that you can skip over apartment shopping and all the applications you’ve already put in? Not likely, not when your dad doesn’t know the two of you have been sneaking around behind his back. He’d have Joel’s neck in a second.

   “Speakin’ of beds. You think your dad’s asleep yet?”

   “With as many beers as he had tonight, he’s out like a light and probably snoring as loud as a bear,” you giggle out.

   “In that case, why don’t you sleep in my bed tonight? Could take a long, hot shower, help ya wash your hair, give you one of my flannels to wear, snuggle up with my favorite girl under the warm blankets while I shower you with kisses.” He scoops you up and starts kissing you all over your face, making you giggle while you move around in his lap.

   “Joel, that tickles,” you laugh, but he doesn’t even begin to stop there. “Joelllll,” you whine as he leaves one long, soft kiss on your lips.

   “Gotcha,” he chuckles, giving you one last kiss until he pulls you up out of the hot tub with him. 

   “Alright now, let’s get you inside before you freeze in that little bikini.” He helps you back into your bikini bottoms and wraps a warm towel around your body, leading you into the house with one arm wrapped tightly around your hip.

   You stop him at the glass, giving him a long kiss as his plush lips mold to yours. He picks you up and cradles you against his chest, making you squeak as he slides the door open and takes you to his room. “C’mon, baby. Let’s get you in the shower.”

   It doesn’t take long to get all washed off and dried off as you slip into his dark green flannel shirt and crawl into his bed, letting him mold you to his chest as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck. “Sweet dreams, baby. I love you,” he whispers as he shuts the lights off, letting the crackle of the fireplace fill the room as you slip off to sleep.

   “Night, Joel. Love you,” you purr as you fall asleep in his warm arms.

[hannie-dul-set]

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [7].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. the usual amount of swearing and ruining the lives of men, jay goes through an crisis, mentions of hairballs, mc is extra menacing this chapter. WORD COUNT. 3.8k.

NOTE. here....it is..... this has been long overdue and i'm so sorry AHAHAH but i did say that i'm gonna update this whenever i want. anyhow, this is the jay chapter! and i hope this makes up for the one month long delay! enjoy, please let me know what you think<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 7 — sexy goth jellyfish.

YOU DON’T THINK YOU’LL EVER GET SICK OF WAKING UP AND GETTING LULLED BACK TO SLEEP BY THE MOST COMFORTABLE MATTRESS IN THE WORLD. Seriously. You’re considering hoarding it back to your dorm once you leave at the end of the month. 

It’s the best thing about this house. The second best thing is having your breakfast cereal already laid out for you in the kitchen the moment you step downstairs. This princess treatment is going to get you spoiled. 

The odd thing about today, however, is that your usual bowl of Cheerios is nowhere in sight.

You rub your eyes, proceeding to squint at the counter because maybe you just aren’t awake enough yet. But it’s still not there. You look over to the sink. There is no evidence that someone ate your cereal. What happened? Did your cereal robot sleep in today? Did he die? Are you gonna have to make your own bowl of cereal from now on?

“Good morning.”

Sunghoon greets you upon walking into the living room, cereal-less and still groggy. Beomgyu is also there, cross legged on the couch and playing something on his phone. “Good—” you greet back, scratching your hand underneath your shirt with a big yawn, “—morning.” For some reason, Sunghoon suddenly looks scandalized. You ignore it and stretch out your arms above your head with another yawn.

“Please— oh my god, please don’t do that. I can see your un—underwear.”

You pause mid-stretch, arms up in the air, shirt hiking up a little. “What color?” you ask. 

“Grey! Why would you ask me that?!”

“Ooh, correct.” You drop your arms down. “I thought you were kidding. Sorry, my bad.”

You grin and shoot them a peace sign. “Sunghoon, go get the PD&J,” Beomgyu announces, eyes not leaving his phone. Your expression quickly moltens into a glare and a grimace. Dammit, you’ve been careful all this time. You blame your lack of early cereal nutrients for this carelessness.

“I’ll pay later,” you grunt. “Anway, where’s Jay? He didn’t make my cereal today so I’m assuming the worst.”

“Is he your slave?” you hear Beomgyu retort. You’ll deal with him later.

Thankfully, Sunghoon is normal(?) and answers your question promptly. “Out on the deck,” he tells you, and you look over to the open glass doors past your dining setup leading up to the sunlit deck outside. You squint, unable to spot a life form of any sort at first, but after a moment of letting your eyes wander, you finally see it.

Jay is laying flat on the wooden floor, shades on, facing directly at the sun. “What’s up with him?” you ask Sunghoon. There are pieces of paper with unidentifiable contents scattered around the motionless man. You fear he might be actually dead.

“He’s photosynthesizing,” he replies. You should’ve known better than to expect a correct answer.

“He’s not a plant,” you scrunch your nose. “It’s past nine. He’s not getting any more vitamin D at this hour.”

Sunghoon simply shrugs and Beomgyu is still busy yelling profanities at his phone. You sigh. Time to take care of things yourself, so saunter over to Jay’s tanning bed and crouch down near his head, arms crossed. Is he asleep? you furrow your brows and peer down a little closer. His pitch black sunglasses are making it impossible to tell.

“Wow. This is the first time I’ve seen you upside down.”

And he’s alive.

“Hey,” you call out. “What are you doing?”

Jay has his hands symmetrically placed on his abdomen, and he remains unmoving when he opens his mouth to reply. “Brooding,” he says, and you are granted more questions than answers. 

“Don’t people usually do that in the dark?”

“I don’t conform to society’s standards.” Jay sits up, so you lean back. You watch him as he adjusts the shades on his nose bridge, ruffles his hair as if there’s a camera pointed at him, then says, “I’m absolutely fucked. I don’t know what to do.”

Woah, there. Looks like Mr. Easygoing is going through some troubled waters.

“Alright.” You shuffle out of your crouching position, dropping to paneled wood to cross your legs for a more comfortable position. “Lay it on me,” you announce, ready to sunbathe and hear a very very long story.

Jay stares at you. There’s a wrinkle between his brows. 

“Go ahead.” You nod decidedly. 

After another pause, Jay shrugs and sets his head down on your crossed legs, laying back down but with you as his new pillow. That’s not what you meant, but you roll with it. This is an opportunity to braid knots his hair. “So I took a summer class, right,” he starts, and you dig your fingers into the dark strands. “Women’s wear design. Thought It’d be useful for androgynous clothing ideas, but anyway.”

Wow, it’s so soft, you think, finishing a single braid. “And then?”

“Well. For our final project, we need to have a live model to wear our design prototypes. To test their functionality and all. A friend of mine already agreed a few weeks ago, but she suddenly canceled yesterday, so I’m pretty sure I’m fucked.”

His hair slips out of your fingers. The gears in your brain start to churn. “When’s the presentation?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Have you asked someone else?”

“Yeah. I’ve already tried calling everyone I know.”

“And?”

“I ran out of people,” he says. “I’m screwed, right?”

“I feel like there’s more to this.”

A third voice suddenly pops up and you flinch. “Holy shit,” you turn to see Heeseung sitting next to you. He looks like he’s been there for a while and you make your surprise very evident by how wide your eyes are staring at him. Jay props up, also looking at him. “When did you get here?”

Heeseung ignores you. “Jay,” he starts. You’re gonna get back at him for that. “What did you tell Eunmi when you asked for her help for the project?” 

Eunmi is a familiar name. You’re pretty sure she’s the one that stormed out of the house the other day. “I told her that I had a problem and asked if she could do me a favor.

Your brows knit together. Wait a minute. “And what else did you say?”

“I also asked if she didn’t mind taking her clothes off,” he says. “Why?”

Silence sets in. It simmers for a while. You and Heeseung share a look. “Jay,” you call out. He gets off of your lap and sits up, turning to face you. You press your lips together. How do you break it to him? 

“Dude, I’m pretty sure she thought you were asking to hook up.”

You double over and nearly let out a gasp. So the mysophobe isn’t hasn’t completely eroded his social awareness. You are both horrified and impressed, and he’s looking at you like he can hear your thoughts, visibly offended. 

“Heeseung’s right. Girlie probably thought you’d be using your measuring tape for something else outside of measuring.” They both give you a look. Maybe you gave Heeseung too much credit. “What? After measuring her tits and ass, imagine her disappointment when you went off to measure her ankles next.” 

“Well, I’m a fashion major, what did she expect?” 

“I don’t know, maybe some dressmaker-themed BDSM shit!” you huff. “Don’t you know you know anyone else that can model for you?”

“I’m pretty sure all the girls in his contacts have him blocked,” Heeseung says. 

You grunt and lean back, the deck warm on your palms. “Okay. I didn’t want to do this, but—” You sigh. Your shoulders slack, and you run your fingers through your scalp with a deep inhale. Jay and Heeseung nudge themselves closer. You give them three more seconds of suspenseful silence— one…two…three. 

“But we don’t have much of a choice.” 

His dumb sunglasses are still keeping his eyes hidden, but you’re pretty sure Jay is looking at you like you’re the second coming of Christ. On the other hand, Heeseung looks suspicious. You assure them that you’ll take care of, telling Jay to go upstairs and prepare his design prototype in case he needs to make any alterations, and Heeseung follows you to the living room, where Sunghoon and Beomgyu are still lounging around.

They turn their heads the moment you enter. Sunghoon and Heeseung’s eyes are trained on you as you approach Beomgyu, who has now settled down his phone to give you a disgruntled expression— impatient and nervous because, “what the fuck are you up to this time?” he voices out. You spare him an extra second of agony and tell him what you came for.

When the words leave your mouth, Beomgyu nearly chokes on the air.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

His eyes are wide, looking up at you. 

“What did you just say?”

“I asked if you can pretend to be a woman for a day,” you repeat. Beomgyu is looking at you like you’re insane. 

“What the fuck?”

“C’mon!” you exclaim, hopping down on the plush sofa cushion next to him and he jumps and flinches away. There’s a reason why you adore fucking with Beomgyu the most. “It’ll only be for a day! Do it for Jay! Whoa. That rhymes.”

“Why me?!” he shrieks. The reason is he fights back. He makes it all the more satisfying when he inevitably admits defeat. 

“Because you’re arguably the prettiest one of the lot!” You bounce closer, trapping his between the armrest and your enthusiasm to see him in a fucking dress. “Have I ever told you that your eyes are like, really, really pretty? And your facial structure is already so nice and elegant, I really don’t need to do anything with makeup, you’re already perfect!” 

With each word you utter and with each centimeter you lean closer, Beomgyu’s face gets increasingly redder and brighter. “Your— your flattery won’t convince me to fucking cross dress in public, you psychos!” 

Before you can get the chance to say ‘so you don’t mind doing it in private?’ Beomgyu tries pushing you off, but he’s too flustered to put any strength in. The opportunity to grab his wrists and pull him closer simply just presents itself. “C’mon!” you tug him in. “Swallow the toxic masculinity, Beomgyu! I believe in you!”

“No!”

He manages to roll off the sofa and retreat to his room. As Beomgyu’s heavy and hasty footsteps fill the air, the sound growing weaker by the second, you turn over to Sunghoon, who is sitting on the individual seat. He meets your eyes. “No,” he says before you could open your mouth. “Absolutely not.”

Sunghoon doesn’t waste a second to get up and follow Beomgyu’s escape pattern. “Sunghoon! Sunghoon, wait!” you yell after him. When he pads up the stairs, you stop at the bottom of the flight and watch as he scurries up the floor. “Are you upset that you’re the second choice? That doesn’t mean anything! You’re pretty too! I love your nose and your pretty face moles and—”

And he is gone. You turn back. “Well, I tried,” you shrug. Heeseung is wearing an expression you can only describe as severe perturbation. “Soobin and Jake aren’t home. That’s a bummer.” Then again, Jake would probably be down for it, which is no fun. And you can’t risk making Soobin cry again. Your list of crimes is already long enough. Beomgyu has the copy. 

“Of all the solutions you could come up with, I didn't think you’d go for the crossdressing route.”

Heeseung is leaning against the sofa, arms resting on top of its plush back. “Actually, I never even considered it,” he adds. “I thought you’d volunteer to model for him yourself.”

You make your way back to the living area with a yawn. Shrugging, you say, “I am.”

His brows scrunch, eyes narrowed. “Then why did you—” Heeseung stops thinking. He gives you a look of distaste. “You’re pretty evil, you know that?”

A laugh escapes your lips, and you hop on the couch Heeseung is leaning again. He visibly flinches when you do, but he doesn’t move away. So you sit up with your legs still on the sofa, knees sinking into the cushions, and you poke your nose forward so that it nearly bumps into his. 

“What are you—”

You inch your face closer. “It’s not my fault that you guys are easy targets.” You can literally hear his breath getting taken away. You flash him a wide grin. 

“Calm down. I’m moving away, moving away. No need to run.” When you flop back to lie on the sofa, Heeseung’s pink-tinted face is in full view, and he’s trying his best to hide it from you all while still trying to shoot you a glare. At some point he’s going to snap at you, for sure. Until that happens, you’re free to mess with him. “Anyway, I’ll be off to Jay’s secret lair. That is unless you man up and take one for the team, and—”

“Bye.”

Like the other two, Heeseung stomps away. You let out a huff of air. “You’re all weak as shit,” you call out. Maybe one day you’ll get the chance to give one of them a makeover. Maybe one day you can paint their nails and do their eyeliner.

Jay can’t express just how grateful he is for you.

No, really. He can’t. He tried telling you that he owes you his life when you told him not to worry about it and just go upstairs and prepare his things, but all that jumped out of his mouth is a measly, “you’re so cool,” before leaving you with Heeseung. 

That won’t do it. He’s gonna say thank you and a million more once you show up in the storage room-turned-office-slash-workspace next to his bedroom, and you’re going to be so impressed by his thanking skills. But the feeling is all muffled and fuzzy inside his chest— like a way too stubborn hairball he can’t cough out. So when you knock on his door and take a peek inside the extension of his room, all he can say is, “I made the carpet. Pretty cool, right?”

“Oh!”

Jay watches as you crouch down almost immediately upon his mention, feeling the mishmas of fabric texture with your palms. Your hands are running through a patch of faux fur, stitched to some leftover corduroy. You’re stepping on denim, and in between you and him is a large swab of linen. “Holy shit. This is pretty cool.”

There’s a thump in his chest. He’s pretty sure you’re the first person to say that after the other dozen people that have been here before you.

Then again, Jay’s pretty sure you’re the first for him on a lot of things.

He fears the hairball lodged in his throat just multiplied.

“So.” You pull yourself up from the ground. “What are we doing?”

“Oh,” he blinks. “Let me show you the clothes first. It’s a dress. It may not look like one, but trust me it is a dress—” he quickly explains, walking over to the mannequin in the corner of the room, pulling it out from the corner with a bit of a struggle because the wheels get caught in the stringy fabric of his carpet. “You can try it on, but it’s made with Eunmi’s measurements. Tell me if anything doesn’t fit right so I can alter it.”

“Holy shit,” you breathe out. “Hey, I may make fun of you guys a lot, but this time I’m being serious— this is so cool! What the hell, Jay?”

Well, that was a surprise. He didn’t think you’d like wearing something so avant garde. After Eunmi’s reaction to seeing it, he was pretty sure you’d be hesitant. “This will swallow my entire figure! I’d look like a jellyfish! You know what, I was already disappointed when you suddenly started jotting down my arm width. I’m going home. Don’t call me,” was what she said before storming off. But you’re all ooh’s and aah’s as you dig your nose into the thin sheets of intricately sewn on sheer, black fabric. 

“I was also serious about the carpet. Hold on let me try this on—”

You struggle taking the dress off of the mannequin. Jay helps you out. “You can change in my room.”

“Gotchu,” you shoot him a thumbs up, running off to the door with the dress flowing in your hands. “Don’t you dare peek. I don’t have any more spare change to throw into that stupid jar.”

“What if I pay for you?”

“Great. Door’s unlocked. Open if you have the balls.” Then you close the door with a still thinly open gap. It’s really is easy to talk to you. You don’t give him a weird look after he says a few words. He can hear your swearing slipping out of the crack in the door. Maybe he should have left you to fend for yourself against his admittedly unconventionally constructed dress.

“Need any help?” he asks, hesitantly inching towards the door.

“I can handle it— fuck, wait, where is my neck supposed to—”

After hearing a thump from inside the room, Jay believes he might have to intervene, else it’ll end up with either a torn ligament or a torn three month long project. He lands a knock on the door. “I think you need my help.”

“Give me a minute! I got this!” A minute. He starts counting down from sixty. And mentally counting down in nothing but silence and the occasional profanities from the other room is giving him some time to think. To think about how even though he’s gone through numerous dates, talked to numerous women, but for some reason they never last long. Well, all except you. You and his mother.

He’s lost count of the times he’s been ghosted (a ghost dress does sound like a pretty good idea), but the times they do communicate— they all communicate with a very familiar script:

“Maybe we should start seeing other people.”

Maybe his bonfire joke wasn’t as funny as he thought.

“Hey, Jay, is it supposed to look like this?” you call out before his sixty second countdown is over. “I think I’m wearing it wrong.”

When he opens the room to his door with a creak, his breath hitches in his throat. 

And it’s not the metaphorical hairball that’s been annoying him. Shit. Something about seeing you in a design he’s crafted with his own hands, conjured up with his own brain, is tying all sorts of knots in his stomach. Even when you put your arm in the wrong hole.

“You’re wearing it wrong.” Jay walks up to you next to the bed. The clothes you’ve shedded on in lieu of the dress he made is scattered on his mattress. He swallows hard before laying a discreet hand on your shoulder, tugging on a loose part of the clothing to reveal the armhole.

“Oh! That explains a lot,” you say, slotting in your arm into the correct gap this time. The dress still looks a little off. “I haven’t zipped it up yet. Can you help me?”

He lets out a cough. “Sure.”

Ah, what is going on with him? He’s been sleeping in this same room for nearly a year now, but for some reason the air right now is arid and stuffy and it’s making his head spin. Jay turns you around, a hand on your hip, and zips up the dress that suddenly feels like fire. That doesn’t make sense. It’s supposed to mimic water. Why the hell are his palms burning? 

The moment the dress is secured, you quickly look into the mirror. “What...what do you think?” he asks hesitantly. Maybe you don’t like it as much anymore now that it’s on you. Maybe the dress is also burning you. Maybe this design is a failure after all— and he feels that fear being confirmed when your back is turned towards him, and you spend a good minute looking at yourself in the mirror in silence. 

Dammit. The damned hairball is back in his lungs.

“I feel…” you start talking. His heart is pounding. Holy shit, he’s never felt this nervous before. “I feel like a sexy goth jellyfish. This is crazy. I love it.”

And just like that, air starts flowing back into his chest.

“Exactly!” 

He grabs you by the arm, spinning you around so he can look at you, and the dress fabric flitters along in the air. “Whoa!” you squeak out. He steadies you by the arms. You look at him, wide eyed.

Jay breath’s are bated. The sunglasses he’s got perched on his nose this entire time got crooked from the rush, falling down to the tip of his nose, revealing a look on his eyes that he didn’t know he was capable of making. “You get me,” he breathes out. “You totally get me.”

Something swirls inside the confines of his room. It’s dark. The only light coming in is from the crack into his office and the warm bedside lamp you turned on.

The both of you stay like this for a moment. Until there’s a knock on his door and a voice rips through all of the tension.

“Okay, fine!” 

It’s Beomgyu’s voice entering the room along with the sound of the door swinging open. 

Creak!

“Fucking fine, I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it as long as—”

It’s not just him. Heeseung and Sunghoon are also there, squeezed between the frame of his now open door. “Oh,” someone says out loud. He’s unsure who. “Oh.”

Somehow, Jay isn’t feeling your arms anymore. He blinks, and you’re not in front of him anymore. He turns his head and sees you in between him and the three other guys outside. “Are you ready to become a sexy jellyfish, Beomgyu?” you taunt, moving further away from him by the second. 

Beomgyu looks at him. Then you. Then keeps his eyes on you. “I never said anything. I’m gonna go—”

“C’mon! Don’t I look great? You’d look just as— no, maybe even prettier than me if you wear— wait!”

And just like that you and his dress project run away from the room. Sunghoon’s head whips back and forth between him and wherever you’ve run off to before going after you and Beomgyu as well. Heeseung stays, albeit out the door. “So, did it go well?” he asks. Jay is still staring at the spot where you’d left.

“It went well,” he replies. “I think I’m gonna get a good grade.”

Well that’s not the only conclusion he’s come up with after all that. In spite of the loud noises, the yelling outside, and the threat of his dress getting ripped apart in the crossfire, he’s sure of two things. He is not only sure that he’s gonna ace this final summer project— Jay is sure that he might have just half fallen in love with you, too.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[neiptune]

best case scenario

cw: 1.6k wc, female reader, friends with benefits, angst, hurt no comfort, you will not find any joy here my friends your girl is going through it and is trying to heal lmfao

Suna is staring at you.

It happens frequently as of late, the feeling of his eyes on you always teasing your spine with a telltale shudder while you pretend to occupy yourself with something entirely different. The thing is, you need things to ground you when you’re with Suna. After you’ve been with him or right before you’re about to be. Distractions to keep you sane, to prevent your heart from freeing itself from your chest cavity.

These quiet moments are not rare anymore, his sorcerous gaze a distraction too dangerous unless he speaks, voice like an enchantment freeing you from the quiescent bubble you intentionally lock yourself in. Today, the bubble is his rubik’s cube. You try very hard to remember at least part of the instructions you once looked up on the internet: think of each face as a layer, start by making a cross, don’t forget to pay attention to the color of the side center pieces, arrange the corner pieces-

“Twist the bottom layer so that one of the white corners is directly under the spot where it’s supposed to go on the top layer”, Suna’s voice is calm yet you sense the amusement it’s coated in. The snark. Ugh.

“Shut up” you grumble, stubbornly doing anything but following his instructions. The white corner piece is where it belongs but turned wrong and you have no idea how to fix that.

“Sure. I always like it better when you’re in charge anyway” he murmurs, too close. Like a cat, his chin suddenly rests on your shoulder and infuriatingly soft hair tickles your cheek as he presses a kiss behind your ear.

“I’m trying to focus here” your hold grows rigid, fingers moving layers of the cube randomly.

“And I’m just watching” he coos, voice a gentle murmur against your skin.

“You’re sabotaging. First by staring, now with this”.

“Should’ve been less pretty if you didn’t want me to stare”.

You shut your eyes for a second, let a deep breath fill your lungs with oxygen and your heart with little sparks of hope, crimson and golden and oh so fickle.

He doesn’t need to say these things. You’ve been sleeping together for enough time for him to know you’ll gladly welcome him back into your bed, day and night, no additional convincing needed. Why does he bother?

Suna is like one of those beautifully crafted russian tea dolls, only backwards. He starts as the smallest figure, blunt and perpetually unbothered, seemingly uninterested in anyone or anything. Then, if he feels safe enough to allow layers to be carefully exposed, the figure starts getting bigger: each crevice comes to light and contains way more than what one would expect from someone so stoic.

He’s a dog person, doesn’t like his morning coffee to be too hot, rewatches his favorite movies when he needs a good cry, sucks with plants, can’t get on a plane without taking an anxiolytic first. More than anything, Suna’s affection is hard to earn but runs deep. He loves his family, adores his friends. He’s in love with someone who isn’t you.

Suna is a one night stand enjoyer and doesn’t disdain dates or conversations that stretch out for days on dating apps. Worst case scenario, he’s entertained. Good case scenario, he also gets a good fuck out of it. Best case scenario, he finds relief and a friend. You suppose you’re his best case scenario.

It’s not like it was entirely unanticipated. He’s good looking, charming in his own stoic way, polite. First, it was attraction. Then, it was nothing but the cruel irony of a fate that came as doom. You just kept texting each other, taste and humor matching curiously, memes exchanged in the middle of the night and laughter muffled in pillows until he just had to ask for your number and smoothly text if he could come over one more time. Two times. A million times too many. For months, until Suna started sleeping in at your apartment and you started to fix breakfast for the both of you, until you walked his dog together, until you accidentally met one of his ex schoolmates and he introduced you calmly, by your name and as a friend. Until sleeping together wasn’t the only motive to see each other anymore, nights spent on his couch watching movies and afternoons devoted to driving around the city, exploring new bakeries and vinyl record stores.

Suna’s been honest since the beginning. Not when you started hooking up, rather when you became friends. I’m in love with someone I’m unable to forget. That’s alright, you replied. You were friends who were attracted to each other, simple as that: nothing was supposed to change.

And then, because life is a never ending sequence of sadistic developments, you ended up falling for him. Not only that: you started harboring hope, which is even worse than desire or delusion. Hope doesn’t keep you grounded. It makes you hang on every word Suna says, each unnecessary compliment, the way he sometimes takes you by the hand while strolling around shops, that one time he got so drunk you had to collect him from a bar. Then he fell asleep in your bed, arms around your body keeping you pressed against him all night. He was drunk enough to giggle (a rare occurrence), to ask you a question your mind still conjures word by word on nights you feel like you’re about to go insane, brain delirious with fabricated scenarios that could never be real. They couldn’t, right?

If we end up falling in love at last, will you stay and never leave?

For the longest time you refused to allow your heart to believe there could be some hidden meaning behind all those criptic words and uncharacteristic gestures. But then treacherous hope infiltrated your thoughts and the throb in your chest, arrangement now seemingly exclusive, dating apps no longer on his phone, ex schoolmates crowding his apartment and chatting with you like old friends. It must’ve meant something. It must mean something. And you’re sure you’ll end up going crazy if you don’t take a goddamn shot. 

“Wanna do something tomorrow? There’s a new cafe I wanted to take you to”.

Suna nods, cheek pressed to your bare shoulder.

“Sure, sounds good”.

“It’s a date, then?”.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything else planned. We can spend the day exploring”.

You pause your ministrations for a moment, then attentively place the cube on his nightstand once more.

“Can it be a real date?”.

You feel it before he can speak. It’s in the way he stiffens against your body, embedded all over his features as he straightens up to stare back. It’s in his parted lips, in the regret tucked into the corners of his mouth.

Suna just says your name and it’s mortifying, humiliating. 

“It’s okay” you take a shaky breath, nod once “forget about it. I’m so stupid”.

“No” he’s quick to interrupt “let’s talk about it”.

“Why? I already got my answer”.

“I didn’t say anything yet”.

You finally look at him, heart sinking to your stomach. It’s not like you’ve known Suna for years but you’ve known him long enough to recognize that stare, the watchfulness in his tone. You’ve already heard him turn down other women before.

“Let me say something first” you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat “I like you, Rin. I like you way more than I should and that's on me but I was starting to believe that, I don’t know, you liked me back”.

He takes your hands in his and holds them tight, conflict laced into his upset features.

“I do like you. I like you a lot”.

You smile a sad smile.

“Just not enough to date me?”.

“I would fucking love to date you. I’d be the luckiest man on earth. If I could decide to fall in love with you, if that choice belonged to me, I wouldn’t waste a single other second”.

“But you don’t see that ever happening so why waste your time, right?”.

Suna’s hold on your hands grows stronger, brows furrowed in anguish.

“I wouldn’t ever let you date someone who’s in love with someone else. You deserve so much better than that”.

As you pull your hands free from his grasp, you dazedly wonder how many times a heart can break and if it’s truly shattered if the person causing that agony doesn’t even seem to hear a sound so clear. The pain is unbearable, it makes you petty and it makes you cruel. You hope she’ll never want him. You beg that a gut-wrenching void swallows him whole. You pray that he’ll have to spend the rest of his life torturing himself, thinking about what could’ve been over and over again.

She’s not here, I am. She doesn’t want you, I do. She didn’t even remember your birthday, I memorized it a year go. Fuck you. Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.

Suna tries to stop you from leaving, runs nervous hands through his disheveled hair. He doesn’t want to lose you as a friend, you’re important to him, he’s sorry. He doesn’t know what to do, wishes something could make this right.

“I would’ve made you happy” you aggressively wipe the tears running down your cheeks, humiliation still burning in the pit of your stomach.

“I would’ve wanted it to be you” he doesn’t cry, he never cries. You’re sure he’s going to miss you for a week or two, then he’ll easily fall back into his usual routine, download his apps once more, find other women to fill his time with. His friends are going to stop asking about you, your name won’t be mentioned over beer and board games anymore. His absence is always going to weigh more in your life, just as his presence.

“Good luck, Suna” his last name sounds weird, so weird the sound makes him flinch.

It’ll pass.