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soaps-mohawk · 9 months ago

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 9: Save Me

Summary: You find yourself confronting feelings as you move past the events that caused your distress, and as your heat begins looming closer and closer.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language, angst, panic, PTSD, mention of weapons, slight suggestive content

A/N: I feel like a broken record but I really don't like this one either, but I'm so ready to just get to this point in the story lol. I feel like I've dragged it on long enough. We're definitely reaching a point where things are shifting and changing and things might seem like they're moving kind of fast. Sorry for all the choppy time jumps too, I just wanted to get to this point in the fic 😭

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A knock on the door pulls you from sleep. You groan quietly, wrapping your arms tighter around the pillow you're cuddling.

That pillow lets out its own groan, moving slightly.

“Gotta get up, love. Answer the door.” Your pillow grumbles, shifting in your hold.

You're wrapped around Gaz still, clinging to him tightly. You vaguely remember an alarm going off and Gaz rolling over to turn it off before you slipped back into sleep. Gaz had apparently fallen back asleep as well, or at least had stayed with you after both of your alarms going off.

Gaz carefully untangles your limbs from around him, slipping a pillow into your arms before rising from the bed. He stretches his arms over his head, a sliver of skin visible as he does so. You stare at it until he lowers his arms, your eyes already slipping closed again as he opens the door.

You hear quiet voices, the words lost on you as you slip further and further into a daze of sleep.

Until the smell of food hits your nose. Your stomach growls loudly, and you lift your head, squinting sleepily as you search for the source of the delicious smell.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Price's voice rumbles through your ears, his hand warm as it brushes over your head. “How do you feel?”

You let out another groan, leaning into his touch as his hand strokes your hair. You’re still sore, muscles aching like you had spent the entire day yesterday training. You feel less emotionally drained, not quite so overwhelmed to the point of near numbness now.

“Dr. Keller wants to see you after you’ve eaten.” Price says, pulling his hand back.

You let out a quiet whine, trying to chase his hand. He chuckles, gently nudging you back so you don’t topple off your bed. He slips his hands under your arms, moving you so you’re sitting on the bed. Your cheeks warm at how easily he does it, that warmth heating to an inferno as he sits on the edge of your bed with the bowl of porridge in his hand. You’re suddenly very awake as he holds out a spoonful to you, and you feel as if your face might burst into flames. His eyes are focused, lips turning up in a small smile as you let him feed you. You know it’s appeasing his alpha, just based on the pride practically beaming from him.

You hold his gaze as he feeds you the porridge, skin prickling from the attention as you cling to the stuffed strawberry in your lap. You can imagine him in your nest, holding you against his chest, feeding you in your heat-induced daze, making sure you eat and get plenty of fluids.

“You alright in there?” He asks, scanning your face.

You nod, trying to calm the inferno under your skin. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

The content smile on his face shifts, morphing into a smirk. “Must be some good thoughts, then.”

You nod, taking the glass of water he offers you and downing it.

“Get yourself dressed, then we’ll go see Dr. Keller.” He says, pushing himself up to stand.

“Yes, sir.” You nod again, letting out a yawn.

“If you’re not up in ten minutes, I’ll be forced to make you get up.” He says, giving you a playful smirk before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Your face warms again at his words. You’re half tempted to burrow back under the covers, if only to see if he’d follow through with that threat.

Dr. Keller said it would be a good idea.

You tell yourself that as you stand in Price’s office. The door is closed behind you, sealing you both inside together. His scent is heavy in the air, making your head spin. You wonder how long he’s been sitting at his desk, how long he’s been shut inside today.

“Grab a pillow.” He says, his voice thick and heavy. He sounds tired, and you wonder how much he slept last night. If he slept at all.

Your slippers make a scuffing sound as you shuffle over to the couch, grabbing the pillow you had used last time. You move over to him as he leans back in the chair, taking your spot next to him. You sit back on your heels, letting out a breath as you try and relax. His hand strokes the back of your head, giving you a moment to adjust to his touch before he slides it down to the back of your neck.

You fight the instinctual urge to protect yourself, stopping your shoulders from lifting to try and force his hand away. You’re still not quite used to it, the vulnerability making your omega squirm, especially after the events that took place yesterday.

You know you can trust Price, but your omega wants to bristle at everything right now. Perhaps you’re picking up on Price’s own exhaustion, his own stress bleeding into you.

His fingers press into your neck and your body relaxes almost immediately. Your mind begins to clear, and you feel as if you’re floating away from your body. All the emotions and the stress and the soreness in your body fades as you relax into Price’s hold. Warmth begins to flood your body as your omega finally settles, nearly preening as your alpha takes control, taking the weight of the world off your shoulders.

You can’t see Price’s gaze on you as he watches you kneel for him, lost in his own thoughts. How easily you relax for him, how trusting you are of him in this moment. You’re putting your entire being in his hands and trusting him with it, even though you’re practically still strangers. It hasn’t even been three full weeks since your arrival in their lives and already so much has happened. It feels like things are moving so quickly, but he knows they could move faster.

If he were a worse man, a worse alpha, he would have claimed you already. Taken what was his to take and cared little for you and your needs.

He’s not going to be that kind of alpha. He decided that a long time ago, long before you came into the picture.

You fall into him limply as he eases his hand from your neck, letting you rest against him and breathe in his scent. Your nose presses into his neck, your warm little breaths causing goosebumps to form on his skin. A quiet sound rumbles in your chest as you press closer to him, getting louder as you breathe him in.

You’re...purring.

Pride wells within him again. You’re comfortable enough to purr around him. He did that. He made you feel safe and comfortable enough to open up that much.

He slips his arms around you, rising from the floor to move to the couch. You continue to purr, the sound vibrating through you and straight to his inner alpha. The sound begins before he can stop it, his own chest vibrating as he answers your purr with one of his own.

He holds you close to his chest, purring contently as you slowly drift off in your relaxed state. Eventually your purrs die off as sleep takes you, but he continues to sit there, his own purrs vibrating in his chest as if they can reach through and soothe you even in your sleep.

“Too tight?”

You move your wrists, pulling slightly at the restraints. “No.” You shake your head.

“Good.” He runs a hand over your head, tugging at the vest, making sure it’s secured before he steps back. “Alright?”

You nod, shifting slightly in the wooden chair. “Yes, sir.”

“Remember, it’ll be fast and intense, but they’ll take good care of you. Don’t forget to play it up a bit. It’s good to know if they can focus in this situation.” Price says, running his hand over your head again. “And I’ll be watching the entire time.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before he leaves the room, the beta outside the door pulling it closed behind him. You tug at the restraints habitually, even though you could get out of them easily. Just like you could get out of the vest strapped to your chest and the chair you’re sitting in easily.

Hostage rescue training was not how you expected to spend your Thursday morning, but you suppose there are worse things you could be doing besides being restrained in a chair with a fake bomb strapped to your chest.

Price had told you about their training yesterday. You hadn’t expected to hear about how you were going to play hostage when he summoned you to his office, but it had been far too formal a request to be something simple. You had been hesitant when he explained, but the risk was small. They weren’t using live bullets, and the bomb strapped to your chest was hardly more than a bunch of wires and a timer counting down. Price had even ensured the restraints weren’t too tight, and had shown you how to slip out of them easily.

The worst part had been your mind running rampant while he secured the rope around your wrists.

You hear the distant sound of the helicopter dropping them off, the entire mood in the house shifting. The betas outside have a role to play, and so do you.

The sound of the door outside getting kicked in makes you jump, your heart rate kicking up. You know it’s them, you know it’s fake, yet you can’t help but let the emotions in the moment get to you.

They don’t know it’s you they’re rescuing.

Price hadn’t told them you were involved. He wanted to see if they could keep their heads in a situation like this. It’s important to know. Gives them something to work on if they can’t.

You hear the pop of the fake guns outside the door before two solid thuds shake the door in front of you. You hold your breath, your fingers shaking in the excitement and adrenaline as the door flies open. You flinch out of instinct, blinking at them as the three enter the room. It suddenly seems smaller with them in it, their surprise not lost to you, even in the tenseness of the situation. You know you’re scent is thick in the room, cutting through the trained laser focus in their minds as they run through a drill they’ve probably done countless times.

Something they’ve probably done in real life situations as well.

“Easy, sunshine.” Soap says, kneeling down in front of you. “Gonna get ye out of here.”

“You can defuse that, right?” Gaz asks, standing behind him. You know they’re both trained in demolitions. You remember that from their files.

“Course I can.” Soap says, looking at the wires.

The timer starts beeping in warning, your heart rate picking up instinctively. There wasn’t anything that would actually explode if he failed, but you can’t help the chill of fear settling in as he messes with the wires.

“Come on, Johnny.” Ghost says from behind you.

“I got it.” Soap growls out, sweat beading on his forehead.

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. Time seems to slow as he studies the wires, the timer continuing to beep as it counts down. Even though you’re not in any danger, you still feel the fear welling inside you. He does know what he’s doing, he wouldn’t be in this position in the first place if he didn’t. Yet you can see the struggle, the hesitation, the uncertainty in his gaze.

He wouldn’t let you die, right?

“Ten seconds.” Gaz warns.

“Johnny?” You breathe, voice cracking as you meet his bright blue eyes.

He mutters a curse before cutting one of the wires. The tenseness in the room is palpable for a moment as all four of you hold your breath. The silence is loud, the timer on the fake bomb sitting still at six seconds. Soap’s head falls forward to rest against your chest as he breathes a sigh of relief. You’re shaking, fingers trembling as Ghost cuts the rope around your wrists.

“Hostage secure.” Gaz says into their comms.

“I wasnae gonna let ye die, sunshine.” Soap says, removing the vest from your body.

“Kinda felt like it.” You murmur as he helps you out of the chair, your legs shaking a bit from the adrenaline.

“Come on.” Ghost says as soon as Soap has you on your feet. “Captain’s waiting.”

Your legs still feel unsteady as you follow them out of the building and across the grass, hand clutched tightly in Soap’s. The fabric of his glove is rough against your skin, but you can still feel the warmth of his hand in yours. You lean against his side as you reach Price across the field, not missing the way his gaze scans you head to toe quickly before he addresses the others.

“Not bad,” Price says. “And the hostage is in one piece.”

You’re still shaking a little, but you can’t stop the smile that tugs at your lips. “Was kind of fun, actually, getting tied up and stuff.”

Soap and Gaz both let out groans at your words, Ghost rolling his eyes at your cheeky smile. The corner of Price’s lips twitch, and you can’t help but beam with pride at eliciting such a reaction.

“Let’s get back to base, and we’ll go over the specifics.” Price says.

You wind up in the back seat of one of the cars with Soap, his arm draped across the back of the seat. You’re leaning into his side, his fingers brushing your arm every so often as the car drives down the bumpy road.

“Ye called me Johnny.” He says quietly, leaning in closer to you.

You stare up at him. “You were going to let me explode.”

“I was not.” He says, looking offended. “I knew wha’ I was doin’” His brows pinch together, his hand cupping the back of your head. “I would never let anythin�� happen to you.”

“I know.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “At least I hope so. Blowing up is kind of a shitty way to die.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, if it happened that way, ye wouldn’t be goin’ out alone.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Ye can call me Johnny anytime you want.”

You smile, snuggling deeper into his side. “Okay, Johnny.”

Your smile only widens as you pick up the subtle rumbling purr sounding from his chest.

“How are things?”

“Fine.” You shrug, sinking back in the chair.

“I heard you took part in the hostage training. How did that go?” Dr. Keller asks.

“It was fine, kind of intense but also kind of fun.” You shrug again, a smile tugs at your lips. “They didn’t know I was the hostage, so that was fun to see their reactions.”

“Was that reassuring to see them in action and have them pretend to rescue you? I know we’ve talked about that fear briefly.” Dr. Keller says.

“In a way, I guess.” You say. “At least, I know they could do it if they had to. I mean, not that I don’t trust that they couldn’t, but...it’s different.”

“It’s different when it’s someone you care about.” Dr. Keller says. “How are you feeling? I know we talked earlier this week, but distressing is a serious thing to go through.”

“I’m alright.” You say, picking at your jeans. “Not sore anymore. Price called off training for a while to let us both kind of figure things out.”

“Have you spoken to Lieutenant Riley since Monday?” She asks.

You nod. “Yeah. A couple times. I didn’t accept his apology, not that he really said sorry directly, but he at least...explained some things.”

“And it is totally within your right to not forgive him.” Dr. Keller says. “I applaud you for putting up that boundary. I know it’s not easy, but sometimes people need to work to prove themselves again.” She makes herself comfortable on the couch, staring at you. “How have you been aside from all the excitement? Have you started nesting yet?”

You shake your head, biting your lip. “No. I-I feel more comfortable now that I have things for my room, but...I still don’t feel like nesting.”

Dr. Keller hums, staring at you for a moment before she writes something down. “What do you think is causing this hesitance in your instincts?”

Your mouth opens in surprise at her question, not quite expecting it. You had spoken last week about things you might be able to do to help if you weren’t nesting by now. You had expected to start throwing out ideas in that regard, not that you would be digging into why.

“I’d like you to be honest with me. Remember this conversation will only ever be between us. No one else is going to hear this, no one else will ever see my notes. It’s just you and me.” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees as she stares at you. “Would you have chosen to be in a place like this, if it were up to you?”

“It wasn’t up to me. It never was.” You say, starting to sweat nervously a bit. It’s getting warm in the office.

“I know, but hypothetically speaking. If you had the option to choose, would you have chosen a place like this? A military pack?”

You stare at your hands, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You wouldn’t have. You know that, you’ve thought about it over and over. You wouldn’t have put yourself in this position. You would have gone as far from the military and politics as you could have, had it been up to you. You want something quiet and easy with an alpha that loves you and takes care of you. Not...not this.

You’re crying. You can’t stop the tears that are trailing down your cheeks. You feel guilty for thinking that way. It’s not your choice, it would have never been your choice. You’re supposed to be a good omega and be okay going wherever you’re told to, with whatever pack picks you.

They hadn’t chosen you.

They hadn’t wanted you here. Price had fought against your addition to their pack up until you arrived. You know Ghost has his own opinions about your presence here. They had been told they were getting an omega and you had been told you were going to be that omega.

Would they have chosen you?

You wouldn’t have wanted them to.

Dr. Keller says your name quietly, her tone sympathetic as you sit there and cry. You’re crying for the life you were supposed to have, the life you could have had, the many things that would have been different had you just been a good pup and presented like you were supposed to.

“I don’t want to be here.” You sob, burying your face into your hands.

You feel guilty, admitting it, even if it is the truth. Your pack has been nothing but kind and supportive, aside from the incident earlier this week. You like them, all things considered. You can imagine yourself being happy with them. Was it what you wanted, though? Was this where you would have elected to spend the rest of your life?

No.

“Can you tell me why?” Dr. Keller asks softly.

Her question only makes you cry harder. You could. You could tell her exactly why. You don’t want to bring up those feelings, those memories, those emotions. You want to leave them behind in the past, buried under everything you learned that made you such a good omega. It would ruin everything, if that got out, if those feelings came to light again.

Your breaths are coming in gasps as you sob, Dr. Keller rising from the couch. She grabs a stuffed animal from her closet, walking back over to you. She eases it into your arms, pressing it against your chest.

“Squeeze. It will help.” She directs you, dropping to a knee beside you. “This has something to do with the military, doesn't it?” She says softly, putting a hand on your back. “I know your father served and you spent most of your childhood on bases. Was there something that happened?”

You take deep breaths, squeezing the bear against your chest as tight as you can. “I can’t.” You sob, shaking your head. “I can’t.”

“Okay.” She says, gently rubbing your back. “That’s okay. Deep breaths.”

You continue to breathe, trying to calm the tears. Dr. Keller continues to rub your back, trying to ensure you don't slip into distress again. The calming beta scent floods your nose, reaching back into your brain to calm the turmoil.

Slowly your breaths begin to even out, and the tears slow to a stop. You’re still clutching the stuffed bear to your chest, arms wrapped around it tight.

“You’re doing a good job.” Dr. Keller says, grabbing a box of tissues for you. “You’re handling this whole situation better than I think a lot of omegas would. But, that doesn’t mean you have to be okay with it. I’d be more concerned if you weren’t struggling a bit. You don’t have to tell me everything, you don’t have to tell me anything. It’s all up to you. I just want you to know that I’m not going to judge you for anything, and I’m not going to tell anyone anything. I’m here for you, and you alone.”

You slowly release your grip on the bear, your hands still shaking a bit. Dr. Keller moves back to the couch as you stare down at the plastic eyes, running your fingers over its soft fur.

“I do think it would be a good idea to address the nesting issue sooner rather than later.” Dr. Keller says, still speaking softly. “We don’t have to get into the why until you feel comfortable enough to, but you need a nest before your heat starts. I have a couple exercises in mind to help maybe jumpstart those instincts, but we’ll need Captain Price in on this issue as well for them to work. I can speak for him on your behalf, if you’d like. I won’t tell him any details.” She says as your eyes dart up to look at her. “Only that there’s a nesting issue and there’s some exercises I’d like the two of you to try.”

You let your gaze drop back to the bear. You know you need to start nesting, and with your heat rapidly approaching, you’re beginning to be pressed for time. Your heat could start as soon as next week and if you don’t have a nest...

“I guess that’s fine.” You say, staring back down at the bear in your hands. “If you think he can help.”

Dr. Keller nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I think he can.”

“Thank you for meeting with me, Captain Price.” Dr. Keller says as they take a seat in her office. “I just wanted to preface this conversation by saying I was given permission to discuss this with you, because we both agree you should be made aware of what’s going on.” Dr. Keller shuffles her notes as Price sits there, back straight in the chair. “Frankly, if I’m being honest, I’m starting to get a little concerned about my patient.”

“Concerned about what?” Price asks, brows pinching.

“She’s not having nesting instincts.” Dr. Keller watches Price’s face as she speaks. “Even with what you did for her, buying her things to make her more comfortable, she’s not getting that urge to make a nest. I know you’re aware that’s a crucial piece of a successful heat, and with that looming ever closer, I’m worried about her.”

“What do you think is causing it?” Price asks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I’m not sure, yet. I did promise I wouldn’t reveal any details about anything, but I do feel comfortable saying, as I’m sure you have figured out, there’s a lot of trauma behind that institute taught, if I may be so frank, bullshit.”

The corner of Price’s mouth twitches. “Not a fan of institutes?”

Dr. Keller shakes her head. “No. I’m not. There’s many professionals that share the same sentiment. They’re hardly the nurturing and cultivating places they present themselves to be, though I’m sure you’re figuring that out yourself. It’s always been about control and profit. The current model most of them use is outdated and has been proven in study to be highly ineffective. There are some places here in Europe that are beginning to reform institutes and what they teach, taking a more omega-centric approach, instead of just priming them for future alphas and packs.”

“Can it be undone, the things she was taught?” He asks, purely out of curiosity. “The way she thinks about herself?”

“I think so, to a degree.” Dr. Keller answers. “You’re already seeing it a bit. She’s already having her beliefs and understanding challenged. Supporting her through that will be an important step in your bonding. The best thing you can do is support her and prove her institute taught beliefs wrong. I think you’re doing a fantastic job already, as is she.”

“What can we do about the nesting?” He asks.

“I have a couple exercises in mind I’d like to try. I’ve used one in practice before in a different situation. It was at one of the institutes I worked at after I was certified as an omega specialist. Two omegas were brought in off the streets. I can’t give too many details but they’d been through something very traumatic and had bonded intensely with each other. They couldn’t be separated at all without slipping into near distress. Of course, institutes don’t allow those kinds of bonds as it’s hard on the omegas when they reach selection age. So, we did an exercise where I had both scent a stuffed animal and then gave them each other’s so they’d have something tangible to focus on. Then we started slowly working on separation, using those stuffed animals so they could keep the scent of the other close. It worked, eventually they were able to be apart. I’d like to try the same thing, but to the opposite effect. I’d like you to scent a stuffed animal so it can be used as a sort of symbol, something tangible she can use to represent you.”

“A way to introduce me into her nest without having me there invading her space.” Price says.

“Exactly.” Dr. Keller smiles. “Having an alpha’s scent around her might help induce not only that feeling of comfort she needs, but may also help induce those instincts to nest. Doing it this way prevents the risk of discomfort by having an alpha invading her space directly, while still allowing for the introduction of an alpha’s scent.”

“Alright. What else do you think might help?” Price asks, running his hand over his beard.

“Another exercise, this one more tactile in nature. This particular one she can do herself, though she may choose to involve you later as she gets more comfortable doing it. I know she’s kneeling for you already, which is fantastic. Some omegas don’t kneel until after being claimed. That she feels comfortable enough to do it already is a good sign. She’s already had these exercises explained to her, but I would like to meet with you both to walk through them again, and in the end, it’s her decision what happens.” Dr. Keller gives him a small smile. “Do you have any questions?”

“What can be done if these exercises don’t work?” Price asks.

“There are a couple other things that can be done, though they’re far more invasive. I wouldn’t even suggest them unless she’s showing clear signs of pre-heat symptoms and still hasn’t nested yet. They have their risks, and that’s not something I’m willing to gamble on unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Price hums quietly. “Is there anything I could be doing differently to help?”

“I think you’re both doing fantastic jobs with the hand you’ve been dealt. It’s not an easy situation and the fact she’s made as much progress as she has is remarkable, honestly. My job’s been fairly easy so far. I was expecting a lot worse when Laswell briefed me. That being said, there’s still a long way to go.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Price says, shaking her hand. “You’ve been a big help.”

“It is my job.” Dr. Keller shrugs. “Remember, I’m always here if you have any questions or concerns. I may be an Omega Specialist, but that also includes the omega’s pack as well.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Price says, giving her a smile. “And I’ll be sure to tell your brother you said hello.”

Dr. Keller smirks, huffing out a laugh. “Yeah, remind him to call his sister every once in a while, while you’re at it.”

You run your fingers over the soft fur of the teddy bear. Your eyes flutter closed as you let Price’s scent wash over you. You clutch the bear to your chest, wrapping your arms around it tightly as you lounge on your bed. You bury your nose in its fur, breathing in Price’s earthy scent from it.

A quiet sound begins to rumble in your chest as you hug the bear tightly. A small, content smile pulls at your lips as you curl up in a ball around the bear, purring quietly.

It’s been so long since you purred.

You haven’t since you were a pup, still young enough to find safety in your home, before you really understood much of anything that was going on. You only ever purred with your mother, snuggled up in the nest with your siblings, warm and content and safe.

Your dad never purred. Or, you never heard him do it. You remember the deep growls that rumbled through his chest, the scent of ozone. The warning that made you bristle, even as a pup, that tickling feeling at the back of your neck almost like your brain knew years before you even presented.

You wrap your arms tighter around the bear, letting Price’s scent flood your mind and wipe away the fear, the feelings, the emotions mixing together. Price isn’t like that. He was so willing to help you, to jump in and do what it took to make the best of a situation that neither of you had a say in. Just an alpha and an omega bound to duty, forced to follow what someone else says. How very much alike your lives are, and yet, so vastly different.

That’s why you’ve found comfort in him so quickly, you think. You understand him. He may be a captain, he may be pack alpha, he may be a leader, but he’s not in control. Not completely. There’s still someone behind the scenes, pulling the strings, telling him where to go, what to do. Someone’s pointing him in a direction and it’s his duty to follow.

You were never going to be in control. You were born a subordinate, and you had been cursed to always be one by your presentation. Your entire life would be dictated for you, by someone telling you what to be, how to act, where to go, what to do. There would always be expectations for you, someone behind the scenes pulling the strings.

Your presence here is full of expectation. You weren’t just bonding with a pack as your duty, there was expectation for it. You had been sent here with a purpose, leading an initiative that could shape the future of many omegas to come. You’re not just an omega chosen by a pack that wants one.

You’re part of a government initiative. Your whole purpose is to see if adding an omega to a pack of highly trained soldiers really will improve their effectiveness and proficiency.

Falling in love with them is just a side effect of your own mission.

Love might be a strong word for it. It wouldn’t matter to those watching your progress if you hated them. You’re supposed to bond with them, be their omega. Prove that it’s worth it, that the strengths weigh out the potential vulnerabilities. Then hundreds of omegas stuck in institutes will be trained to follow in your footsteps.

You wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

You’re lucky they’ve been so good to you. You’re lucky you’re beginning to feel it, those spaces in the back of your mind that have been empty for years beginning to fill as your omega comes to accept her pack. The betas anchoring your omega, the alphas surrounding and protecting.

You'll do your duty. You'll bond with them. You'll mate with Price. You'll allow him to claim you. You'll be their good little omega.

It won't be the worst life.

They at least care about you. Gaz and Soap have shown interest in you and mating with you themselves. Ghost...you've got a long way to go with him still, but you're beginning to make some headway into earning his acceptance.

Price...Price has begun to show some interest as well. You've knelt for him, kissed him, allowed him into your space. He calmed your distress, bought you items to help make your space more comfortable. He scented a stuffed bear to help you nest.

He'll treat you nicely, or at least you hope he will. He'll lose himself to his rut when you go into heat, and you've heard plenty of horror stories. You know what to expect, from the best to the worst. You could come out the other side mated and content, or you could come out half mauled to death. There's no way of knowing. Price will be a slave to his instincts just as much as you will be.

You don't want it to be like that.

You don't want your first encounter with the opposite sex to be lost to the haze of your heat, something that could potentially put your life at risk. How long has it been since Price has had an omega? You know he has. He's too calm, too collected around you to never have had experience with one before.

Will he treat you well? How will he touch you? You can't imagine him as being a selfish lover, but you won't know. You won't know until you're dazed with lust as your body yearns for release, for an alpha's knot.

You could find out beforehand.

The thought has you sitting up in your bed. You could pursue that with Price before your heat starts. There's no rule that says you can't before your heat. You know there's omegas that don't wait. There's alphas that don't wait when omegas join their packs. Price could have taken you that first day if he really wanted to.

Would he have bent you over his desk? Done it in his room or yours? Would he have done it in the meeting room in front of the rest of the pack? Staked his claim like some primal alpha?

The thought has warmth pooling in your stomach. The mental image of Price taking you in front of the others, sinking his teeth into your neck as he stakes his claim, marking you as his.

“Fuck.” You breathe, clenching your thighs together.

You could ask. What's the worst he's going to say? No? You'll just retreat in shame and hide out until your heat begins in embarrassment. He was so willing to do what you wanted, what you asked of him. Would he say yes if you asked him? If that's really what you wanted? Does he want it? Does he want you?

All you have to do is ask. You're allowed to want things, to desire things. Everything you've asked for so far, you've gotten.

The heat between your legs only confirms it. You want this.

You want Price.

Your hands are shaking as you reach for the door handle. He had given you permission to enter already, but your nerves make it feel like you’re moving in slow motion as you wrap your fingers around the nob, turning and pushing inwards. His eyes are on you as you slip in, closing the door behind you. You can’t read his face as he sits there, staring at you in your baggy shirt and leggings.

“What’s eating you, pup?” He asks as he stares at you, watching you fidget nervously.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You say, shifting your weight between your feet.

He reaches out a hand, motioning you closer. You approach his desk slowly, taking his outstretched hand. He guides you in front of him, lifting you to sit on the desk. He leans back in his seat, staring up at you. “You can ask me anything.”

You bite your lip, staring down at him. His hands come to rest on the edge of the desk on either side of you. It’s comforting, supportive, instead of constricting as it might have felt just two weeks ago. It only furthers your belief that you’re making the right choice, that this is what you want.

You stare down into his eyes, your hands coming to rest just beside his on the desk. “I want my first time with you to be before my heat.” The words come spilling out quickly, almost so quickly you’re not sure he caught them.

He stares at you, surprise flickering across his face for a moment before he’s back to the straight-faced captain again. “You’re sure?”

You nod. “I want to remember the first time. It’ll make me feel better after we...have to do it. I think...it’ll help me feel less like...I had to.”

Price moves just slightly closer to you, understanding shining in his eyes. “If that's what you really want.”

You nod, sliding your hands until they're resting on top of his. “It is.”

He turns his hands so can hold yours. “Saturday, then. Let me make you dinner and then we'll go from there.”

Your stomach flutters at his words, skin tingling as his thumbs rub the backs of your hands. “You want to wine and dine me first?” You ask playfully.

“Call me old fashioned.” He smirks.

“Maybe just old.” You mutter, shrieking out a laugh as he wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you into his lap. The chair creaks precariously but you know he'd break your fall.

“You want to take that back?” He murmurs, your face inches from his.

“Depends on what my punishment will be.” You say, your nose almost brushing his.

He chuckles deep in his chest, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “You'll have to wait for Saturday to find out.”

NEXT ->

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #cod fic #poly tf 141 #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #captain price x reader #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #x reader #tf 141 x reader

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simpxxstan · 5 months ago

Text

favourite

pairing: boss!wonwoo x model!mingyu x f.reader

genre: smut, slowburn, poly!relationship

summary: after being happily single for years, when you develop a crush, you don't know what to do. you think your closest friend (with benefits) can take your mind off things. but when you ask for his help, you certainly didn't imagine this kind of help from him.

word count: 15k words

rating: NSFW 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE!!!

warnings: mentions of workplace sexism, minor sugar daddy x sugar baby dynamics, fwb dynamics, wonwoo and mingyu are both depicted as bisexual in this story and this does not imply anything from real life, asymmetric power dynamics (boss and employee), open relationship (not really but-), slight possessiveness, minor age gap (wonwoo is four years older than reader and mingyu).

smut warnings: sub!mingyu, dom!wonwoo, switch!reader, threesome, sir kink, usage of petnames (baby, pretty baby, darling, love, baby boy, doll), praise kink, degradation kink, minor (?) objectification, heavy descriptive mlm action, anal sex, usage of butt plug and cock ring, use of lube, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (pls do not do this irl), oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), nipple play (with both male and female), usage of traffic light system during sex, spanking, usage of degrading petnames (cockslut, whore, plaything), spitroasting, squirting, multiple sex scenes, PLEASE LMK IF I MISS OUT ON SOMETHING.

a/n: does anyone know how to get out of corporate!wonwoo brainrot? if yes, pls pls pls lmk i need it ^^ comments, reblogs, and feedback are so so much appreciated!! would love to hear your thoughts on this dynamic so beloved to me- i have some headcanons in mind too, could share if anyone wants!

(i)

You slowly sip the whisky on your glass, on the rocks, the liquid burning through your chest. You embrace the burn, as your mind wanders away from the beautiful night skyline in front of you. It’s been a couple of hours since you’ve returned home, the night edging towards midnight, but you can’t get it out of your mind.

You can’t get him out of your mind.

His voice, his scent, even hearing his footsteps give you sheer goosebumps.

God, you thought you were better than this. After spending so many years in the ruthless corporate world, you pride yourself on becoming a woman made of steel. Nothing affected you anymore. Disobedient juniors? Your reputation of being the most unforgiving boss in the entire building has permeated to everyone in the industry. Sexism? There’s a rumour that you once stabbed your stiletto into the hand of a man trying to grab your ass, and since then, no one’s dared to look down at you for being a woman. Disrespectful bosses? They knew better than to get their top employee against them, especially when you had a record of toppling over bosses and taking their position sheerly through merit.

It hadn’t been easy. Fighting into the corporate world as a woman with no contacts and no fancy universities on your CV had been tough, but it had made you strong enough to not let anything faze you anymore. It certainly helped that you were not interested in anything except your career, so you had every reason to keep fighting on without giving up. It also helped that you were married to your work- the way you regularly return home late, even in your tenth year at the company, was testimony to that fact.

And yet, he had managed to faze you. Your face grows red with shame just thinking about how your heart and body reacted when you see him, and you take another hurried gulp from your glass, eager to divert your mind away.

The door unlocks itself.

“You came.” You turn around in your swivel chair to see a tall man, wearing a long black trench coat enter your house, his cap and sunglasses not giving away any of his face. But you know damn well who it is.

“You called. You never call first unless it’s urgent.”

Mingyu steps out of the shadows, taking away his coat, cap and sunglasses, and you see that he’s wearing a fancy blue button down with jeans.

“Did you have a schedule before this?”

“Yes. Y/N, please tell me you have something to eat, I’m famished. I’ve been eating nothing but chicken breast for the last week because of this shoot today, but now I’m ready to break my diet. Do you have ramen?”

He makes himself at home in your open kitchen, as you watch on from your prime spot next to long glass windows which make up the wall of your living room. There are dim lights on, but Mingyu looks perfect even like this. “Of course I have ramen. Can you make some for me too?”

“Sure, I’ll add eggs too. I’m really hungry.” You smile at the way Mingyu quickly found his way through your house. This isn’t the first time he’s cooking in your kitchen, and you hope it won’t be the last time certainly.

You finish your glass and walk up to him, just as he’s pouring out the ramen into two bowls. “Thank you for the food, Mingyu.” You sit on the kitchen counter and he pulls up the stool next to you, your bare legs hanging next to him. He pecks your cheek, before handing you chopsticks and the two of you instantly begin inhaling the ramen which is made just perfectly. You’re silent while eating, and Mingyu finishes first. Once you’re done, he cleans up the dishes too.

“Mingyu, you’re my guest, stop doing all the work.” You swing your legs over the counter, and pull his hand until he’s locked in between your two legs. His hands land over your shoulders, and you lean in to kiss him, but he pulls away-

“Wash your mouth, baby. And wait for me in the bedroom.” You make a face, not looking forward to waiting because you want him now. He seems to read your mind, so he continues, “I won’t even take 2 minutes.”

So you do wash your mouth, brush your teeth too and dab some serum on your face.

“What happened that you had to call?” Mingyu comes and stands behind you in the ensuite bathroom, his face in your neck as he inhales your scent.

“I can’t call my friend from time to time?”

His giggles are warm against your bare skin. “Y/N, as much as I love you, you know it wasn’t just a call. Although I don’t mind,” he carefully begins to untie the straps at your shoulders, “you know I am always at your service,” then he lets the dress drop to your feet, and places his hands on your hips, his gaze scanning you through the mirror. You’re not wearing anything underneath, and it’s a treat for his eyes.

You turn around before he can touch you where he really wants to.

“I know we stopped after you…”

“God, don’t make it sound so sad. You know my boyfriend is okay with this.”

“Yes I know, but I thought it was a matter of principles?”

Mingyu’s canines are out as he giggles. “Darling, you do know what an open relationship means?”

You sigh. “I don’t know how you do it. Do you not get jealous? Does he not get jealous? Of me?”

Mingyu doesn’t say anything, bending down to kiss on the sensitive spots of your neck. “He does, sometimes. And then, he fucks me hard enough to remind me who I come home to, after all.” You shudder against his touch. “So, please Y/N. Don’t hesitate.”

He stops kissing you as you take his face in your hands, feeling the smooth skin under your nails. The hunger in his eyes, softened by his affection for you, are all the confirmation you need.

Mingyu is, for all his height and glory, no dom. He’s a service top at best. But you like it better if he’s pinned underneath you, squirming against the way your nails tease his nipples, his cockring tight, as you ride him, gifting yourself with endless orgasms. His hands are tied up above his head, leaving his arms left bare for you to savour. So you do so, biting, licking and sucking his arms which seem to have grown since the last time you did this, although admittedly, that was over six months ago. You know Mingyu is especially sensitive at his nipples, so at least one of your hands never leave his chest, holding on to the rock-hard muscle for both support and also to keep him down. Even with his hands tied, he’s strong enough to flip you over, but you know it’s not really necessary. With the way he’s drooling all over your pillows and begging you with his soft, puppy eyes, to let him cum once, you don’t think he’s aware of just how strong he is.

“Baby’s doing so well, hmm?” You whisper into his ear, leaning down to hear his moans and whimpers clearer. “Can you give me one more orgasm? Do you want to?” He nods feverishly, but you gently tap his lips. “I want words, pretty baby. Colour?” But he still doesn’t reply. So you sit up, and lift your body away from where you’re seated on his cock, wondering if you’re doing something wrong. But he instantly thrashes his feet and words come flowing out. “No! I’m sorry- all green, I swear.” “I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard-” “No! Y/N, please. Just zoned out for a second. Please. Green.” So you gently push his cock back inside, still red, weeping and imaginably hard.

“Can you give me one more? Mingyu? You’re doing so well.”

“Yes! Yes I can!” He moves his head forward, and you kiss him. Softly, unlike how you’re bouncing on him. The kiss is sloppy, leaving strings of spit between your mouths, but that’s how Mingyu likes it, you know. You also know he likes your tits, so you sit up, and let his mouth fall to your breasts. And he devours them, like a hungry man. Sloppily licking, kissing and sucking at your nipples, until they’re swollen.

And when you cum again, your warmth floods Mingyu’s still-erect cock, his head lolls, eyes rolling back, as you feel spent and tired. “Baby, you did so well. So good for me. You were made for me, I think. Made to give me heavenly orgasms,” you see the way his gaze becomes unfocused at all the praise. He eagerly kisses you, moaning when you suck his lip too hard, all while you untie the knot of his hands. When his hands are finally free, he gently flips you over into the bed.

“Let me clean you up-” you offer. But he shakes his head, pushing you down on the bed now, as he bends down towards your stomach. In spite of the five orgasms of the night, a spike of arousal shoots through you, as you realise what’s going to happen.

“I want my dessert, Y/N. Let me worship you for being so patient with your good boy all night. Please? Haven’t I been a good boy? ”

And he has been a good boy. Such a good boy, the way his skillful tongue laps all over your ruined, messy folds, licking the remnants of your cum still in you, and making out with your pussy. He drives you on the verge of overstimulation, so you yank his hair up and remove his face from your cunt.

“Let me take off your cock ring. You’ve been such a good boy. Cum with me as you eat me out?” It’s too good of a reward for him to not smile widely, his canines out and his eyes bright. He doesn’t care that he has to rut against the bed to chase his high. He does it fast, just how fast his tongue moves in your cunt, and he holds back to time it such that you both reach your climax at the same time, and you’re moaning out loud.

“Wonwoo!”

You don’t realise that Mingyu hears that too, as you pass out for a long second after squirting all over Mingyu’s face.

That night doesn’t end there. There are quick breaks from time to time, but it goes on until you’re positively sure the first rays of the sun are coming up in the sky, and you both are tired as fuck. Spent, wasted and high on all the hormones, you snuggle into Mingyu’s warm body, as he cages you into him with one arm on your side. His cock is finally flaccid after going all night long, and your body is too sore to move. It’s just a miracle that Mingyu smells good even after all night.

“Who was that whose name you called out earlier?”

Fuck. You’d forgotten about that.

At least Mingyu doesn’t sound mad. He just sounds mildly amused, and a little curious. You purse your lips and turn up to face him. Well, it would come out sometime or the other. And better if you admit your secret first to Mingyu than anyone else. At least you don’t feel that embarrassed in front of him, because of how you’ve both been friends.

“My new boss.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Was appointed a month ago. He used to manage the overseas operations first, but apparently he’s been wanting to come back and settle down for a permanent position here for a long time. Six months earlier, he shifted back with a temporary position to headquarters, and our CEO was so impressed with him, he got promoted to our branch as the Director.”

“And you like him?” Mingyu’s voice has a lilt to it, as if he finds it a bit funny.

He might as well. You yourself find it funny. “I- I don’t know. I think I’m a little infatuated with him? Fuck, Mingyu, this is so embarrassing but-”

“It’s not embarrassing. Even if you’re all steel outside, I know you’ve got a soft core. And who will you admit crushes to if not to a friend?”

You gently slap his chest, and he laughs. “You’re mocking me.”

“Am not. It is a crush, or is it more?”

“God, no! He doesn’t even know I like him. I mean I hope he doesn’t. It would be so embarrassing. God, I’m going to lose the entire image I’ve made in front of my peers and subordinates!”

“Why? Does he make you act irrationally?”

“Oh so irrationally. He makes me distracted during meetings. He makes my mind wander during work. I’ve lost focus, and I’ve lost my concentration. One time he put his hand on my thighs, and I swear I got wet. I don’t even get that wet during foreplay usually!”

Mingyu bursts out laughing. “Y/N, I think this is a pretty bad case. I’ve never seen you have this kind of an infatuation in all the eight years that we have been friends.”

You nod. You know that well enough.

“But the question is, why don’t you make a move on him? Why only hide? Is he married?”

“Nah. It’s worse. He’s not into women.”

Mingyu shifts a bit, turning his head towards you. “Are you sure?”

“He has a boyfriend. And as far as his record goes, he’s never dated a woman. Always rejected advances from females.”

Mingyu hums, before wrapping an arm around your waist. “But a girl can dream, hmm?”

“Don’t mock me, Mingyu! I called you here to get my mind off him but…”

“But you still called out his name when you came.” There’s a smirk on his lips. “What’s his name, you said?”

“Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo.”

In the darkness of the night, you don’t notice Mingyu’s smirk widening, because you’re too busy yawning. And as soon as you close your eyes, basking in Mingyu’s warmth, you’re out like a light.

(ii)

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Miss Y/L/N, I’ve spoken to my secretary to rearrange your schedule to accommodate the trip to Tokyo. Have you checked it?” Wonwoo asks you in the weekly meeting, and you have no option but to recollect your calm as you reply, because everybody’s watching. “I have, Sir. But I have to tell you, I hardly have any experience in dealing with international investments-”

“Then this is the perfect opportunity for you to get that experience.” His eyes are cold and fixed on yours, glaring at you from across the table. His gelled hair lifted off his forehead reveals slightly furrowed eyebrows.

You bite your lip. Any other time and you would jump on the opportunity. But this time, you have to hesitate because you’re afraid you’ll jump your boss on the trip and that would be enough to end your career then and there. But you have a point to prove, especially to the seven other men sitting on the same table. Even in the bright sunlight of the morning in the boardroom, their eyes glint like wolves, waiting for you to make the slightest mistake. They’re waiting for Wonwoo to disapprove of you, so that they can remove the single infiltrator in their male-dominated corporate world.

“Then I won’t disappoint you, Sir.” Wonwoo nods curtly. “Miss Y/L/N, please meet me in my office after the lunch break.” You nod and take his leave as the meeting comes to an end.

Fuck. Less than two days left for the trip, and somehow your confidence has weakened already. You take a seat in your office, staring at your open computer screen, wondering what has come over you. It’s shocking just how much your mind has started behaving and reacting to everything Wonwoo does or says. He’s just four years older than you, but there’s something in his aura which has you second-guessing your every move. Perhaps it's the way he dresses in nothing but the darkest shades of black every day. Perhaps it’s his horn-rimmed glasses, which do nothing to soften his piercing gaze. Perhaps it’s the way there are rumours floating about, but nothing seems to disturb him. In the three weeks you’ve met him, you’ve never seen him lose control even for a second. Not one loud voice, not one expression of unease, not one flicker of anger. In all of your life, you’ve never met a man with such force of character. Character that does not divert, that does not decrease. It intrigues you and excites you in equal parts.

You don’t bother to knock because Wonwoo’s blinds are up and his eyes have been on you since you left your own cabin to walk to his office.

“Sir?”

“Have a seat, please.”

So you do, but he stands up. He comes around the desk to sit on the desk next to you, and his scent engulfs you. Your body has an almost Pavlovian reaction to it- every time you smell his cologne mixed with his naturally masculine scent, you feel intoxicated. The hairs on the end of your skin have risen, as his eyes never leave yours.

“There’s a document on this tablet. I will send it to your email as well. Take a good look at it, I doubt you’ll face any difficulties at the conference in Tokyo.”

“I will check it.”

Wonwoo nods. He’s a man of few words. You secretly think he does it on purpose, to remain more mysterious, to leave you craving for his voice.

“How many days will we be away?”

“One. We’ll be back the next day in the evening. The conference is going to take up your whole day, but you’ll have some time to yourself, if you want.”

“I’ve been to Tokyo before, so I don’t particularly want to sightsee. I’ll treat it as a paid vacation,” you smile, before standing up. “Is there anything else you want to talk about, Sir?”

He doesn’t smile. “Sit,” there’s a pause, and your breath hitches, “please. I also want to talk about your new project. There’s been plenty of talk about the deal with the Spanish, but I want to ensure that it’s a safe source.”

His obsidian eyes burn into you as you sit down again. You couldn’t really deny him when he asked so nicely, could you?

If you thought spending all those days in a glass cabin ten metres away from Wonwoo’s office was torture, the trip is absolute hell, with no chance for redemption. This is the first time you’re on the company jet, thanks to Wonwoo. There’s no one else on this trip, except Wonwoo’s secretary, Jeong Yunho, a scarily efficient man who’s been with Wonwoo since before his transfer to your branch. Wonwoo and Yunho seem busy discussing something about the conference, so you stick to your laptop, avoiding eye contact with the man in question. But soon, Yunho leaves the compartment (room? segment?) where you two are sitting (you realise there must be seats beyond the curtain too).

And then it’s just Wonwoo and you. You keep your eyes on your laptop, although he’s sitting diagonally opposite to you, but oh, the only thing on your mind is him. The way his jaw tightens as he reads something on his tablet. The way his blue trousers fit him like second skin, stretching the right way near his thighs. The way his form-fitted blazer must be custom-tailored because there’s no way a commercially sold blazer would match the proportions of those shoulders and that slim waist.

Oh, how you envy his boyfriend.

“See something interesting, Miss Y/L/N?”

Your mouth goes dry when you realise you’ve been staring at him through your side glance, and Wonwoo has caught you in it, without even lifting his eyes once.

“No, I- I was wondering if you’d taken a look at the other companies interested in this conference.”

He still doesn’t look up. His voice is a dry, lazy drawl, but so sharp it cuts through your skin. “Did you? Was there anything you observed?”

“I did. In fact, I’ve also mailed you a report on them. They’re mainly tech giants spread across the world, looking to expand their investment in the AI market, like us. But they’re also top companies in their respective countries, so I’m a little concerned whether our offer will be enough to secure this deal. I understand that the other potential deals will also be substantial, although the chance of a big difference isn’t much considering the current global recession. There’s been few companies who have picked up pace with as much speed after the pandemic as ours, and I think that’s where our edge lies. But at the same time, I thought it best to warn you that the deal will not be easy. It will be a long, competitive negotiation.”

Wonwoo does look up now.

“I see you’ve done your research well, Miss Y/L/N. Do send me a portfolio of the other potential investors you’ve found.”

“Noted, will do so.”

“Good girl.”

And then he goes back to whatever he was reading on his phone, leaving your lungs sans air, and your heart racing. You surely didn’t imagine that- and if you hadn’t known better, you’d think he was encouraging the way you were reacting to him. Did he get off on that kind of thing? Knowing he had his employee squirming for him, begging for his attention?

You excuse yourself to the washroom to take a moment to recuperate. It felt embarrassing and exhilarating at the same time- a feeling you’d never felt yourself, but also a dangerous, forbidden zone of life you’d never explored. Is this how all the men you fucked and didn’t call back feel like when they asked you out on dates? Is this how your sister had felt like when she’d run away from home to marry her professor? Is this how Mingyu felt for his boyfriend?

God, no. This was not happening to you- your mindset, your work spirit, your concentration was not going to be ruined because of one man. You were not, are not that weak. He’s just a man, you tell yourself. At the end of the day, he thinks with his dick. Even if he may not be cishet, he’s probably an enabler or a silent acceptor to sexism and everything you’d fought your entire life for, because how could he have survived in the corporate world for so long?

You wash your face.

That is it. This is the end to your ‘crush’ or infatuation or whatever the fuck this has been. It’s just hormones, it’s just attraction. Nothing fatal, nothing rare. You know well enough that Jeon Wonwoo has got every female employee in the company swooning after him, so there’s no need for you to think his attention is unique to you. So even if your body may be weak to his charms, your mind is stronger.

You’re going to fake it till you make it.

Your confidence stays pretty much intact throughout the conference, especially when you put on your femme fatale face the moment you set your foot in Tokyo. It’s a city that really calls to you- with its modernity settled neatly in its heritage, nature and nightlife, it’s one of the cities in the world that you really admire. And you feel like you’ve come home, because the city truly is made for you. Fast-paced and unstoppable.

And so, you take your mind off Wonwoo and focus only on your work. You ignore the way he insists you sit next to him through the conference, you ignore his hot, raspy whispers in your ears whenever he wants to tell you something, you ignore the way his eyes never leave your figure even during lunch when you’re free to mingle with everyone, you ignore the way he’s booked connected rooms for the two of you at the hotel. You ignore the way he’s the first to applaud when your presentation at the conference is complete, you ignore the way he insists on introducing you to every big shot at the dinner party after the conference, you ignore the way he doesn’t leave your side through the night.

And in spite of your astute ignoring, you know you’re fucking lying to yourself. And even if you can hide your heart to the world, you can’t hide it to yourself. You cannot ignore the way your panties are just a tad bit sticky by the end of the night, you cannot ignore the way his smell lingers on your skin because you’ve spent the entire day beside him, you cannot ignore the way your body is running on overdrive and you absolutely need to cool yourself down. Your shower is not enough, so you head down to the swimming pool, with a bloody mary in your hands and lounge near the shallow end of the swimming pool in your skimpiest shorts and tank top because you didn’t bring a bikini.

Your eyes are shut, your head leaning against the metal rails near the pool, so you don’t notice how the other guests at the swimming pool dissipate and you’re lying there as it gets later in the night.

When you open your eyes again, feeling calmer after spending an hour in the water, Wonwoo stands in front you. He’s changed from his three-piece suit to a casual tank top and sweatpants tied low at his hips, a beanie over his hair, and for the first time, you have a clear view of his collarbones and the way his arms and chest are undulated with muscles.

Is this appropriate boss-employee interaction?

There’s no time to wonder, because Wonwoo sits down on a chair behind him, his eyes still on you.

“Relaxing after that long day?”

Oh, he’s really here to make conversation with you, is he?

“If I’m staying in a seven-star property, might as well treat it like a vacation.” You smirk. This is your third cocktail of the night, so you’re feeling slightly heady. It doesn’t help that the cold night is making your nipples pebble over the water.

“You did so well today. Did not disappoint,” Wonwoo hums as his eyes rake over your figure. You gently sip down the rest of the cocktail, before placing it on the side and floating over closer to him. “Really? You think so?” “So good. Everyone was so impressed. Someone even asked me if you were looking to shift jobs somewhere else.” You smile. “Did they, now? What did you say?” You know this is tipping away from your professional relationship, the way you’re swinging your hips as you get up from the pool. It’s definitely a violation of professionalism, when you walk right up to him, ignoring the water droplets dripping behind you, and bend almost over him to retrieve a towel from a stack behind him. There’s a warm current of passion running through your veins when you see the way his tongue sticks out slightly to lick his lips as he unabashedly checks your figure out as your thin clothes cling to your body. When you finally wrap the towel around your body to soak up the drip, he replies, “Why? Are you looking to shift away? Is our company not enough?” “I don’t know, sometimes it can get boring.” You harden yourself to not whimper at the way his gaze pins you, forbids you from moving. There’s a long pause, before he stands up and replies, “Then, as your boss, it’s my responsibility to ensure you stay. Make sure there’s enough spice in your job to keep up your interest. Wouldn’t want to lose my best girl a month into the job, would I?”

Fuck. He’s got you. Your heart skips a beat as you think of a quip to reply with, but you can’t. My best girl. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He smirks when you don’t respond, you jaw slightly agape.

“Goodnight, Miss Y/L/N. Don’t sleep in till late. We have a meeting at 8.”

Because you have some time until your company’s jet is scheduled to depart, so you’re roaming through the duty-free stores. You’re walking out of a chocolate store when you notice Mingyu’s life-sized poster, modelling for Calvin Klein. You smile and grab your phone to take a quick photo, before admiring the advertisement. It must be a recent shoot, because his hair is cropped short like you noticed when he last came over. His muscles look well defined in the photograph, where he’s posing shirtless with a single black tie tied loosely to his neck, and black jeans hung low on his lips. There’s a wildly sensual look in his eyes, as if begging to be taken as you pleased, and it makes you smirk. Now you have something more to tease him for, when you meet him the next time.

“Pretty, isn’t he?” You haven’t realised when Wonwoo’s sidled up to your side, and you notice a Bulgari bag in his hands. So that’s where he’s been shopping while you were busy browsing through chocolates. Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the poster in front of you, an appreciative glint in his eyes.

“Pretty indeed. For as long as I remember him.”

Wonwoo turns to look at you, his eyebrow raised. “Are you a fan? Or a friend?” “The latter. Mingyu and I have been friends since high school.” “How interesting.” Eager to impress him, you elaborate, “I was the one who pushed him to get into modelling. Couldn’t have let looks like that slip, could I?” Wonwoo chuckles. “Indeed not. I’m sure many must thank you, including myself.”

Wonwoo takes out a small box from the bag he’s carrying. Opening the box, you see there’s a bracelet inside. Set with at least sixty 24k diamonds. It makes your mouth water and your eyes shine, and you cannot help but envy his boyfriend, if he’s the one on the receiving end of such gifts. “What do you think?

You wonder if it’s too personal a question, but you’re also sure a lot of lines between professional and personal have gotten blurred over this trip. So you bravely ask him, “Is that for your boyfriend?”

Wonwoo doesn’t show any sign of displeasure, if he feels it. His eyes still focused on Mingyu’s poster on the glowing display in front of you, he says, “Hmm. Do you think it’ll suit him?”

Your throat goes dry. If he’s bought it for his boyfriend, why are his eyes fixed on Mingyu? But you don’t think about it. Mingyu’s looks are, after all, captivating.

“I’m sure it will. He’s very lucky to be receiving such a pretty gift. He must be really precious to you.” You laugh lightly, trying to hide the bile of jealousy rising in your throat.

Wonwoo puts away the gift. “He is, indeed.” His eyes now shift to yours. “Any favourite of mine is bound to be the most precious to me. And worthy of the prettiest of gifts, whatever they want.”

You fight the blush creeping into your cheeks, trying to stop your heart from racing on. This is ridiculous. Why on earth are you getting into your feels when he’s clearly thinking and talking about his lover? God, Y/N, get a grip on yourself. He’s not yours, and by the look of love and yearning on his face, he never will be.

It’s his voice that breaks you out of your trance. “Miss Y/L/N? The jet’s arrived. Don’t wanna miss it, do we?” You can’t help but nod dumbly and walk behind him to keep pace.

(iii)

After the trip, everything goes back to what it was earlier. To the outsider, that is. But you know that behind closed doors, so much has changed. It doesn’t have to be something tangible, but there’s something different in the way you’re behaving around each other. For one, you notice him checking you out more than once, and the fact that you’re catching him in the act means that he intends to be caught. He’s more reckless in the way he talks to you. More reckless in the way he picks you out to lead projects, asks you exclusively to accompany him to conferences and clients he’s meeting, wishing you good morning by looking you straight in the eye even when all eyes in the office are on him.

But then the rumours begin. Favouritism. Must be sucking his cock under his desk.

And it kills you. It poisons any joy you could enjoy under his attention. You’ve made it a point to not just avoid, but also fight against any such rumours about you, because you don’t want anyone else to get credit for your hard work and success, especially not a man. But you don’t want to confront him about this. For the first time, you know these rumours are absolutely false, because you know he couldn’t have any bad intentions towards you- a man who’s so loud and proud about having a boyfriend and has never even had a rumour with any woman before this, could not be looking for sexual favours. So you quietly keep your distance from him. Trying to finish work over emails instead of meeting him in his office. Trying to avoid eye contact and sit at least half the table away from him during meetings. You don’t want to embarrass him with these rumours, and you certainly hope the rumours haven’t reached his ears.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon, I won't be able to accompany you to this meeting with the Chois. I’m not feeling well tonight, and I really would like to go home and rest.” You keep a straight face when he comes to your cabin asking you if you’re ready to leave with him. His back is towards the rest of the office, so he misses the way everyone looks up from their work to look at the two of you.

“Unwell? You should’ve told me earlier. I would have cancelled the dinner meeting tonight.”

“No, of course you don’t need to do that on my account, Sir!”

He shakes his head, one gelled lock of hair falling into his eyes. “How do you travel home?”

“I have my car.”

“And a chauffeur, I hope?”

“No, I drive myself.”

“Well, then Yunho’s going to drive you home tonight. You’re in no a state to drive home yourself if you’re feeling unwell.”

Your eyes widen, “No- I don’t want to impose. How are you going to go to the meeting, then? You’ll need Yunho with you.”

He narrows his eyes, his gaze piercing. “You underestimate me. I do not need anybody for a meeting with a client. Especially not a secretary.”

You maintain his gaze. “But I don’t want to inconvenience you on my behalf.”

“I will be more inconvenienced if I worry about you going home alone in this state.”

God. Who’s gonna tell the man that you’re in the fucking pink of your health and you don’t need him to fuss over you like this? Maybe you should’ve just gone with him to the dinner, because this is going to create more fodder for rumours. But you can’t argue any more with him, he’s too stubborn.

“Alright. If that’s what you want.”

His lips tilt upward at the edge. “Good. Take tomorrow off too.”

“No-”

“That was not a suggestion, Miss Y/L/N. Don’t disobey me.”

And then he turns around and walks out of your cabin, leaving you speechless, and at least ten pairs of eyes staring at you. You can only hope the thin glass walls of your cabin prevented the conversation from floating out.

You must really be married to your work, because one day off and you’re fucking losing it. You realise, as you wake up at six in the morning, like any other work day, that you’ve not taken a single day off this year. The last time you took leave was last year when you’d visited your parents. You can’t even fall asleep again, which is awful because you slept fitfully last night. Because of him. He invaded your dreams, leaving you sweaty under the blanket, and an uncomfortable wetness between your thighs. But you still get out of your bed, intent on making it through the day, and not becoming unproductive.

All your work is completed within the next three hours, so by the time people your age are actually waking up on a holiday, you’re sitting on your sofa feeling listless because you have nothing to do. There’s no new books you need to read, no new recipe you want to try out. You don’t really watch movies or dramas. You ask Spotify to play a random song for you, but it turns out to be a sex song trending right now. The moans in the background of the track don’t help. The lyrics about someone older clutching your throat while taking you to heaven also don’t help. You turn off the song immediately, and again fall back on your couch, debating whether you should go out for a jog in this cooler weather, when your phone dings.

It’s a photo from Mingyu. When you open it, you burst out laughing at the caption. It’s just a picture of him eating a cupcake, but the caption says I feel like I might die if I eat this. Seemingly normal to anyone else, it’s incredibly funny to you because it’s a red velvet cupcake. And you both swore on red velvet cupcakes back in high school that you’d be best friends forever.

You type back, You’re still my best friend.

You can see that he’s started typing, but then he stops. A second later, your phone rings.

“People don’t go MIA on their best friends for weeks. I would not know even if you lay murdered in your apartment. In fact, no one would know. Not even your family or the police.”

“Well, I haven’t been murdered in my apartment. I’ll ask the murderer to let you know if they do murder me.”

He groans. “Don’t mess with me. Why are you checking messages and answering calls so early in the morning?”

“You have a problem with me checking your texts too?” You giggle.

“No, Y/N, I’m just- I don’t know, worried. Did you resign because of your boss?”

“God I could, actually. He forced me to take a leave today because I told him I was sick last night to avoid going on a meeting with him.”

“You lied to him and got a leave? That’s a win in my books, love.” He cackles, and you wish you could laugh with him.

“Not if it fuels rumours of favouritism, Gyu.”

He sighs. “Oh fuck. Not that shit again. But, really, are you well?”

“No. I’m just horny and mad, both because of Wonwoo.”

“Do you want to rant?”

“I could do with a ranting session. But are you free?”

“I am, the entire day. I could come over. And you could sit on my face and rant. How does that sound?”

You giggle as a spike of arousal shoots through you. “Sounds like my best friend.”

Mingyu arrives half an hour later, a little bit of stubble on his jawline. As soon as he steps into your apartment, you pull him to yourself, grabbing his collar, and he smiles against your lips as you press a kiss against his jaw, eager to feel the stubble against your lips. “God, you’re really horny, hmm? Did you touch yourself while I was coming?” He flips you and pins you against the wall, his hands straying down to your breasts as he finds your nipple already hardened. “I did, what took you so long?” “Didn’t know office traffic is so bad. I don’t get out of my house this early, you know?” You hum against his lips, his warm cherry lips which taste like iced americano and the red velvet cupcake he had earlier. “Let’s get you back to bed then, baby.” He pulls away and giggles, “You’re so impatient, Y/N.” But he follows you to the bedroom, as you tug him away. On the way he pulls off your top and shorts, and he lies down first in your bed. “C’mere. Give me a taste of that red velvet, baby.”

Oh, he looks good. Your mind goes back to the first time the two of you had fucked, back in your college dorms. You’d been so heartbroken that day- your crush had turned you down after one date because he’d wanted to have sex, but when you’d told him you were a virgin, he’d laughed at you and left you midway through the date. But Mingyu, forever your cheerleader, had shown you that you’d fallen for the wrong guy. When he’d gone down on you, giving you your life’s first orgasm using his tongue, you’d seen stars. You deserve the best, Y/N-ie. He’d left you speechless when he’d begun thrusting inside you, nothing on your mind except him and just how perfect he was, and how you were such a fool to not have realised it before. I love you, Mingyu. He’d smiled, the post-nut glow on his golden face, I love you too, Y/N.

But you were late. Mingyu started dating someone else within a week. And you’d suppressed your feelings forever, as you realised they were not mutual. You were better off as best friends, even better as best friends with benefits. You didn’t want to lose him.

Those feelings right in your throat again, right now, as he pulls you on top of him and kisses you gently. You’re moaning his name as he pulls you on your face in one go, kissing your thighs, his breath heavy on your core where he’s purposely not touching, leaving you whiny. But you’ve had enough of his teasing, so you tug his hair and pull him towards your bare pussy.

He dives in headfirst, and you grab the headboard as a scream escapes your throat. His tongue laps up your juices, and you see the way he sniffs your pussy, making you clench as his tongue enters you gently. “God, you’re such a tease, baby. Making me forget what I wanted to say.” You tug harder at his hair as he licks faster, and you grind down on his nose. He alternates between flattening his tongue at your clit and using his tongue to thrust into your cunt, already loose from your arousal. But his technique is top notch- just the way it was back in college, when twenty-year old nerdy you had lost your virginity to him. And you climax within a few minutes, your essence coating his smooth face, making his skin shine.

When you look down at him, his eyes fixed on you, he places a soft kiss on your folds, before whispering, “I thought you wanted to rant.”

You push yourself down on him, waiting for him to continue eating you out, but he moves his lips away. Clearly he wants you to start talking before he restarts. So you do start.

“Do you know I went on a trip with my boss?”

“Mmhm? Did not know that. What happened?” You forget your words for a second as Mingyu’s raspy voice sends shocks through your body. You have a wild urge to tug his face away from your cunt just to punish him, but you can’t help but give in to him.

“He…”

“Do you want to go out tonight?”

“Tonight?” You’re opening your mouth less because your jaw still hurts from how wide it stretched to deepthroat Mingyu’s cock earlier. You’d forgotten how much of a monster it was, but it was nice to be reminded again. Especially when he came all over your tits and licked it all off you, turning you on again because of how he eagerly nipped at your nipples. But you’re too sore to get up now, so you’re both casually lying across each other as you surf through work emails on your phone and Mingyu watches something on YouTube.

“Yes?” He props his head up on his elbow and looks down at you.

“Tonight?”

“You heard me the first time.”

“I did, but I’m buying time to make up an excuse against it.”

He laughs and kisses you on the corner of your mouth.

“If you don’t want to come out, then you can just tell me.”

“But I should be wanting to go out. I am free all day today, and it should be technically fun. Help me get my mind farther away from Wonwoo if I can snag a date.”

“Hell no. You’ll be my date. Think I’ll let another man flirt with you when I’m taking you out?”

You take a deep breath before looking away from your phone and looking up at him. You notice how pretty his red lips look, and how much you want to kiss him. How hard it is right now to remember that he has a boyfriend, and all this- whatever fragments of intimacy you get- is because his boyfriend is miraculously accepting of Mingyu fucking you and then going back to him. You’d never understand it, even though Mingyu’s said multiple times that it’s totally fine, but you won’t judge him for it. You take what you get and you won’t complain.

So you take one hand and cup Mingyu’s jaw to pull him down.

“Let’s go out this weekend, then? I need at least one business day to mentally prepare myself.”

He kisses you as your breath mingles with his. “Whatever you want, baby.”

(iv)

You step out of the elevator dangling your car keys on your fingers when you notice a strangely familiar car pulled up in front of your own smaller car. The window rolls down.

“Mr. Jeon?” Your mouth gapes in shock, when the man gives you that characteristic smirk of his, which is reflected more in his eyes than in his lips. “Good morning. Are you sure you’re well enough to be attending work today? I’m okay with you taking another day off.” Your eyes widen, as you wonder for a second if he’s caught your lie, but then you quickly regain composure. “No Sir, I’m feeling perfectly fit. I’ll drive myself, so there was no need for you to come all the way here-” “No, no. Yunho will drive us to work.”

He steps out of his seat, opening the door for you to enter the car. When you hesitantly take a step forward and are on the verge of entering the car, he says, his voice an octave lower, “You are of top priority, do you not realise, Miss Y/L/N?” With the way his gaze is trained on you, and with him coming all the way to your doorstep for no reason at all, you do somewhat realise now. But why he’s doing it is going all over your head. So you wordlessly enter the car’s backseat, and he joins you from the other side.

The journey is spent in silence, but you can feel the way his eyes flicker to glance at you through the back view mirror. The company car is comfortable in every way possible, and Yunho is a great driver, but you still can’t breathe through the entire journey because you’re on your toes. You quietly regret wearing a pencil skirt with a slit reaching up to your knees, because as you sit in the car, the slit rides up to your thighs and you have goosebumps all over. You can just hope that Wonwoo doesn’t notice.

The two of you entering the office together doesn’t do anything to reduce the rumours. There are even more eyes staring at the two of you now, but you realise it’s a futile effort to try and quash the rumours. People will gossip if they want to, even if there’s no grounds for their gossip. So you let Wonwoo walk you down to your cabin, and before leaving he tells you to check your schedule. “I will, Sir. Have any changes been made? I have just one video conference today in the evening as far-” “Yes, you’ll be accompanying me to lunch today. There’s a follow-up meeting with the Chois, so I want you to be there.” And then he doesn’t wait for you to reply before he struts out of your cabin.

Wow. Lunch too. Now you really can’t stop the rumours.

Thankfully, lunch is a solemn affair. You’re too busy looking at figures and prospective business plans for the success of your collaboration with the Chois to question why Wonwoo insists you sit as far away from Choi Seungcheol, the CEO of Choi Enterprises, as possible. So you end up sitting next to him, and there’s nobody else at the table except Yunho and Mr. Choi’s assistant. As the food gets served, you get started with the short presentation you prepared on your way to the lunch meeting, but Wonwoo quickly places a hand on your exposed thigh and stops you from speaking. “Let’s enjoy the lunch first, shall we? Seungcheol doesn’t need to be convinced any more, Miss Y/L/N.” Your lip twists when you wonder why Mr. Jeon is on first name basis with Mr. Choi, but Seungcheol quickly tells you the reason. “We’re old friends, Miss Y/L/N. We’re not here to discuss business, are we, Wonwoo? We’re just here to enjoy a meal at our favourite restaurant.” Wonwoo chuckles, and you open your mouth to say something, but his hand on your thigh squeezes once before moving away, as he whispers slowly in your ear, “Relax for a minute, Miss Y/L/N. You don’t have to always work your pretty brain all the time. Just enjoy the meal.”

To say that you’re stunned is an understatement. You don’t understand what’s going on, but there’s an unspoken conversation happening between Wonwoo and Seungcheol, and you don’t end up talking about work throughout the meal. Seungcheol is good enough to make you feel at ease as he asks questions as far away from work as possible. But nothing today seems to be going as expected- starting from the way Wonwoo came to pick you up, to the way his hand touches your exposed thigh more often than necessary. You eventually let it go- not questioning it, but just enjoying the attention, and the lasagna because when else will you eat at such a fine dining restaurant any time soon?

Thankfully, the rest of the day and the next passes by in a better fashion, without any unexpected incidents. It’s late on Saturday evening when you’re just finishing your workout at the gym near your apartment that you get a text from Mingyu. Coming to pick you up in an hour. Hope you’re ready to let loose tonight <3

Fuck, you’d forgotten about your plan about going out with Mingyu. For a minute or two, you debate the pros and cons of cancelling the plan last-minute. But then Mingyu’s whiny, puppy voice flashes in your head as you remember that in the last few months, you’ve cancelled more plans than him, and you’ve only gone out for once in every two months. Fuck it. You deserve to let loose too. You deserve to give a break to your heart and your mind. And you deserve another evening of pure fun with your best friend.

So by the time Mingyu arrives, you’re dressed in a black silk bralette paired with high waist black jeans- the most casual outfit that exists in your wardrobe right now. You tie your hair up, exposing your neck, and wear a simple necklace to finish the look.

“Damn girl. Did I tell you that you look hot?” Mingyu’s whisper is hot near your ears when he comes to hug you, and you giggle. “You’ve cleaned up well yourself.” That is sarcastic, and he knows it, because the smug look on his face says it all.

When the two of you enter the club, Mingyu’s arm is in yours, and you can see how people perceive the two of you as a couple, wearing matching all-black outfits. You don’t care, wishing to live your fantasy for a moment, and wondering what it really would be like to be Mingyu’s lover. To have him to yourself all the time, without sharing him with a boyfriend you’ve never met, and you probably don’t want to meet. To show him off to all the people in your office who straight up ask you why you don’t date even if you’re not getting any younger. To hold him close all night, his warmth acting like your personal weighted blanket, and not feel the ache in your chest every time he leaves in the morning.

As the first round of shots go down your throat, you head to the dance floor, Mingyu’s hands wrapped around your hips and you two move on your own beat. There are people around you who recognise Mingyu, but he doesn’t even look at them. His eyes are all focused on yours, so you maintain his gaze. Getting lost in his eyes, you want to lean in and kiss him. But it would be inappropriate. It’s one thing to sleep with your best friend in the privacy of your apartment, another thing to kiss him publicly when he has a boyfriend. So you just smile hazily as you stare at him to your heart’s content. If you’re just his dirty little secret, you’ll take it. Mingyu has more than enough love in his heart for you and whoever his mysterious boyfriend might be. You’re satisfied with just a place in his huge, beautiful heart.

You’re really getting into your feels now, as the songs change to more upbeat songs which you like dancing to. Right then, Mingyu bends down and whispers near your ears, to ensure you hear him. “Y/N-ie? I want you to meet someone.” You look up towards his face, mouthing a silent who, before he whispers again, “Turn around, love.”

And you do.

At first, you’re sure it’s an illusion of the flashing lights of the nightclub, increased by the effect of the alcohol running through your veins. But then Mingyu’s voice is again breathy near your ear, “Meet my boyfriend, Jeon Wonwoo.”

Time stops around you.

(v)

When you come back to your senses, you’ve somehow moved to one corner against the bar, far away from the din of the dance floor.

The man in front of you smiles, a dazzling, beautiful smile you’ve never seen before, and your head reels. You fall back into Mingyu’s arms, who swiftly catches and steadies you. You can’t believe the sight in front of you. You emit a loud gasp as Mingyu’s touch makes you realise this is, in fact, reality. “Your boyfriend?”

“Hi, sweetheart.” Wonwoo’s voice is unbearably deep, and he’s so close that you can hear him even in the noise of the club. But you still can’t register his presence, so you reach behind to grab onto Mingyu’s hands. “Gyu? Mingyu- is this a joke?” But the man you’re talking to merely giggles and lowers his face near your neck, so that you can feel his cheeks against yours.

“Mr. Jeon-” Wonwoo takes another step forward, trapping you in between the two men. “Wonwoo, please.” “Oh. Wonwoo- I- I’m sorry-” He smiles, and Mingyu giggles again against you. “Sorry? For what? God, she’s cuter than what you told me, Mingyu.” His eyes flicker to the man behind you before falling to you again. “Mingyu also told me that you have a lot to complain about me?” “No! No, I didn’t mean any of that? Mingyu!” It must look pathetic, how you’re leaning back towards Mingyu and grabbing to his hands from behind you, because you want him to be on your side. But Mingyu indulges you, as he says, “I’m here, baby, I’m here.”

But it’s clearly not enough, so you turn around to see him. “Is this real?” Mingyu’s smile is bright, “Yes, Y/N-ie.” “Why didn’t tell me before?” “What’s the fun in that?”

It really sinks in for you now. You turn back around, to see Wonwoo still standing there, the gentle smile still on his face. He lifts his hand to touch your hair, then your cheeks and finally cups your jaw. “Do you want to get out of here, Y/N?” God, he even makes your name sound pretty. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk more, hmm?” You nod your head, “Yes, please.”

That’s how you end up in Mingyu’s car, his long red sedan, which he’s currently racing off the streets of the city, the night air making you sober as you reach Wonwoo’s place, where Mingyu has moved in, as you learn. Through the journey, Wonwoo and Mingyu hold hands over the console, and somehow pieces connect in your more sober mind. Fuck, how did you never consider this possibility before? Bits and pieces from what Mingyu had told you comes back to you now. The boyfriend was initially a sugar daddy sort of thing because he didn’t live in the city- he would come around in between work schedules and pamper and spoil Mingyu for entire weekends or longer, during which Mingyu would not even check his texts. You’d thought it must have been some celebrity guy, if he’s so busy with schedules and so rich. But you were wrong. So, so wrong. Mingyu had officially started dating this boyfriend six months ago, coinciding with exactly when Wonwoo had moved back to the city permanently.

“What are you thinking in your pretty head?” Wonwoo looks at you through the back mirror as Mingyu’s pulling up near Wonwoo’s home.

“This still feels unreal. Why didn’t you tell me before, Mingyu? God, I can’t believe I said all that to you.”

Mingyu laughs, but doesn’t respond. It’s only when you three enter the house and get seated on the couch, you in between the two boys, that he starts talking. “What do you want to know, Y/N? Right from the beginning?”

“No, I get the beginning. I pieced it together in my head.” Somewhere from behind you Wonwoo chuckles, and mumbles smart girl. But you don’t dare to look at him, trying to ground yourself in reality. So you stay turned towards Mingyu. “Did you know he’s my boss even before I told you?”

“I did. After Wonwoo and I got together, I told him all about you. I showed him your photos, told him you’re my best friend, told him we also sleep together sometimes.”

“And you were okay with that?” You finally develop some courage to look into Wonwoo’s eyes, his beautiful black eyes that are so much sexier up close.

“Of course I was. How could I not be, when you made my baby boy so happy? You and I both know that Mingyu has too much love to give, so I knew that him loving you wouldn’t take him away from me.”

“Lo-loving me?” Your voice is feeble, and you look back at Mingyu. Your eyes drift to his cherry lips before looking back at him, and he smiles, his canines out on display. “I do love you, Y/N, you know that, right? I’ve meant it every single time I’ve said it.” “But as a friend…?” “That’s only because I didn’t want to lose you by confessing. And also because I had no idea how I was falling for two people at the same time. You and Wonwoo.” Your eyes drift to his lips again as you sigh. It’s so strange, how conflicted your heart had been just earlier this evening, but now your body is radiating with a slow-flowing joy. Noticing your gaze, Mingyu leans in and gently kisses you on your mouth, a chaste, soft kiss, but it’s sweet like nectar. “You want me? Mingyu?” “So much, Y/N-ie. And Wonwoo wants you too, you know.”

You finally turn around to look at the other man beside you, his patient smile beautiful. “Did Mingyu tell you everything?” He grins, “Yes, everything.” You close your eyes in embarrassment, but Wonwoo’s hands gently cup your cheeks, holding your face in his hands, upturned towards him. “How could he not? I pried every little detail from him.” “Was this the reason why you took the job at our branch?” “Yes. I came to the posting at the headquarters for Mingyu, but I shifted for you. Because I fell for you too whenever Mingyu described you to me. And after meeting you that first time at that meeting at the headquarters, I knew it was a lost case. My heart was yours before you even saw me.” “Oh, I saw you alright. You looked so handsome that day.” You can feel your cheeks heating up in a blush, and Mingyu coos at you from behind. His body somehow moves closer, trapping you between the two boys, and you feel hot with the attention from the both of them. Mingyu’s hands weave through your hair, untangling your hair at the scalp, making you almost purr with pleasure, but you don’t move your eyes from Wonwoo’s face.

“I want you so much, Y/N. I have wanted you for so long.” Wonwoo pauses and then chuckles, “Mingyu’s wanted to tell you for so long. But I wanted to wait, because I wasn’t sure of how you felt towards me. I’m still not sure… are you still mad at me?” You giggle, even more embarrassed by the second. “I could never be mad at you, Wonwoo.” “I genuinely, really wanted to take care of you, you know. Just take care of you.” Wonwoo’s smile is so gentle, so mature, and so warm. This is a new side of him that you’re seeing, and you realise you’re falling for him even more. “Wonwoo… you know my feelings already.” “But I want you to tell me, please. I need to know that it is the truth.” You pause for a moment, eyes taking in all the beauty of Wonwoo’s features. “I do want you. I want you so much I think I’m losing my mind over it.”

And that’s all the confirmation it takes. Wonwoo leans down, his grip tightening on your jaw, as he kisses you with all the affection he has. You can’t help it but melt into his mouth, and the kiss deepens. You’ve been so curious for so long to find out what touching Wonwoo would feel like, so when he explores your mouth with the intense kisses, you roam your hands all over his body. Feeling the hair near his nape, the skin along his collarbones, his biceps under his button down shirt, his sculpted back that feels so broad to you. From behind you, you can feel Mingyu’s hands wandering around your body, near your hips, the skin exposed at your stomach below the bralette, inching towards the bottom of your breasts. You shiver at all of the contact, all of the attention.

It’s only when Wonwoo breaks the kiss and you see Mingyu kneeling down on the carpet next to you, both the men facing you, that you realise that you want them both. So bad.

“Do you want us both, Y/N?”

“Yes,” Your voice comes out in a rushed squeak because you’re breathless. “Yes, but… can we take this to your bedroom?”

No more words are needed. Mingyu immediately lifts you up in his arms, and you latch your legs around his waist, as he begins to feverishly kiss you as Wonwoo leads the two of you to his bedroom. You’re dropped gently on the bed and Mingyu gets in right next to you. Mingyu makes quick work of taking off his clothes, and Wonwoo stands in front of you, at the edge of the bed, cupping your face with his hands again. “Are you sure?” You nod. “Never been more sure of anything in my damn life.”

Wonwoo bends down to kiss you again. But this time, the kiss is no longer sweet, or exploratory. It’s the kiss of a hungry man eager to devour what is his. He doesn’t let you do anything in the kiss, except match his tempo, and it’s shocking how easily you’re letting in to him. It helps that Mingyu’s also kissing your neck, making you arch your back into him as you lean your neck to give him more area to kiss. Mingyu’s big hands grope at your bralette, and Wonwoo breaks the kiss to let him tug it off. Finding that you’re wearing nothing below it, Wonwoo curses and kisses you again, hard, pushing you on Mingyu’s big body which is all muscles now that the clothes are off. Mingyu’s hands come from behind to fondle your breasts, moaning low in your ears as you wriggle between his spread legs on your either side. You feverishly grip onto Wonwoo’s hips, who’s still standing, and his hands weave into your hair.

“My turn,” Mingyu whispers before attempting to lift you away from Wonwoo, but the older man swats his hands away. “Baby boys don’t demand. You don’t want to get punished yet, Mingyu-ah.” Your head tilts back on Mingyu’s shoulder as you feel the shiver run through his body at his boyfriend’s words. The crystal black in Wonwoo’s eyes becomes unimaginably darker as Mingyu whimpers in your ears. You reach behind to rub your hands over his thighs, his strong, thick thighs, and you can feel his hard length twitching through his boxers near the small of your back. You arch your back to give more access to your tits to Mingyu, who abuses your nipples by pinching and twisting them recklessly. He really loves your breasts, so you let him play, but you can’t stop yourself from moaning out loud now that Wonwoo can’t muffle you any longer with his kisses.

Wonwoo takes a step away and takes in the sight in front of him. You can see the way his chest heaves with desperation, but his resolve is unbroken. You can see the way his cock is straining through his jeans, but you know his patience is crazy. He’s not going to break so soon.

And he doesn’t. A slow smirk spreads over his face when his eyes meet yours. “So pretty, my little sweethearts. Pretty baby, are you having fun? Playing with my doll?” A spike of arousal shoots through you at the pet names, and Mingyu whimpers at being called pretty baby. “So much fun, Sir, I swear.” Your body reacts on its own, as you feel another gush of wetness flow into your panties at the way Mingyu calls Wonwoo sir. Fuck, their dynamic is so hot. “Then take off her pants like a good boy.” Mingyu leans in and you help him to get you out your jeans, leaving in nothing but your soaked panties. They’re white which means your arousal must be so evident through the lace, and Mingyu groans when he sees it. But he doesn’t touch you- he knows better.

Wonwoo grins and coos at you. “So pretty in white.” He leans in to kiss you again, before quickly flipping you over until you’re on your hands and legs. His hands gently grope your ass, making you giddy with his large hands patting your soft skin. But then you hear the sound before you feel the impact. The loud smack, a ghost of a touch on your ass, before it starts burning and it’s only then that you realise he’s spanked you. You’re still processing it, when he smacks the same spot again with incredible precision, and you jolt at the touch. He doesn’t give you time to recover- he keeps smacking the same, sensitive area, and you’re sure the spot of arousal on your panties have spread into a larger spot now and he can see it. Because you’re all but whimpering and screaming in Mingyu’s arms now, who’s ravaging your neck with nips and bites, his fingers still pinching your now sensitive nipples. Your body is hanging on the brink of overstimulation, and you’re so wet you think you can come untouched.

Wonwoo seems to read your mind, because he says next, “Are you come from this, doll? Just a few spanks?” He smacks your ass again, and you jolt again, but Mingyu’s arms hold you in place. “Should I stop? Or should I make you come untouched like this if you like it so much?”

You don’t respond.

You can’t respond.

Your body shakes uncontrollably as you let go of yourself and give in to the first orgasm of that night. Wonwoo spanks you right through the orgasm, but once your shaking reduces, he gently pulls you up and takes off your panties. From how you’re pulled up against Wonwoo’s standing body, you can see how flustered Mingyu looks, his bulge straining through his boxers, the stain big and drops of sweat falling off his beautiful body. He looks gorgeous like this, and you’re dying to kiss him. Once your panties are off, Wonwoo loosens his grip on you, and you seat yourself on Mingyu’s lap, his legs still spread, and you both moan when your bare pussy comes in contact with the bulge in his boxers. You grind down on the hard length as you capture his lips in a kiss, your fingers leaving impressions on his shoulders with how hard you’re gripping him. He gropes your ass, still sensitive from the spanking, but his touch soothes you. You grind down on him harder, and it’s only when he breaks away from the kiss with a hiss that you realise he’s come in his pants as you feel the wetness from his boxers stick to your own wet cunt. “God, that’s so hot Mingyu.” You praise him, as he looks at you with unfocused, desperate eyes, and you kiss him again.

But then you feel a weight on the bed behind you, and you turn around to see Wonwoo joining the two of you on the bed. His clothes are off, except his boxers, and you gasp when you see how well-built his body is. He’s much leaner compared to Mingyu but his build is so impressive, and your eyes trail down to where his abdomen gives way to his dick, which is very much visible through his boxers. Your hands immediately reach out to grab his shoulders, which are so wide, but he doesn’t let you touch him, instead grabbing your hair and pulling you into a kiss as you’re seated, trapped between Wonwoo and Mingyu.

“Did you make my baby boy come without touching him?” He asks you between sloppy kisses, before his lips trail down to bite your neck, while Mingyu’s mouth is focused on your tits now, sucking at the nipples, soothing any abrasion from his pinching earlier. You nod unable to form words with all the attention, and Wonwoo understands as he laughs lowly. “Turns out both my playthings are little sluts for each other. So hot for each other, aren’t you?” Mingyu moans next to you, and you can feel how turned on he is by the dirty talk, as his dick twitches after having just orgasmed a few minutes ago. You grab his head and push his face into your breasts as he laps all over your tits.

Once Wonwoo’s left hickeys all over your neck, he extends a hand to cup Mingyu’s jaw and lifts the younger boy’s head to look at him. There’s an intense look shared between them- you can see Mingyu’s jaw slacken at the touch, as he bends forward for more attention from his boyfriend, so he gets it. Wonwoo leans in to kiss him, and his hand moves from his jaw to his neck, slightly grasping it and choking it while he sits up on his knees to kiss Mingyu out of breath. Mingyu’s back arches as Wonwoo towers over him, and you move backward, leaning against the headboard, turned on even more at the sight in front of you.

You’ve never had a threesome, and never imagined you’d be so okay with Mingyu being shared with someone else. He’s always been yours even if just as a friend with benefits. But you find that sharing Mingyu with Wonwoo gives you no problem at all- perhaps it’s because you know they’re already a couple, but also because you can see it in their eyes how much they’re in love with each other.

You pull your legs towards yourself, and Wonwoo soon pulls Mingyu into his arms, the younger man’s legs spread around Wonwoo’s legs, close enough that their dicks brush against each other through the clothing barriers, making Mingyu whine out loudly and Wonwoo hiss at the contact. They feverishly kiss each other, almost as if you’re not there in the room. But you don’t feel out of place. You feel somewhat like a voyeur, but a welcome one, because soon, Wonwoo makes eye contact with you even while kissing Mingyu and sees the way you’re flicking your own clit. He breaks the kiss, and says, “Y/N- I thought you knew better than to touch yourself without my permission.” He takes your hand in his own, away from your body. “Please,” you whisper, but he shakes his head. Mingyu turns to look at you two, his chest heaving. “She looks so pretty like that, Wonwoo.” Wonwoo’s head turns towards Mingyu, a smirk on his face. “You like it?” “Yes, so much.” “Then I guess I can’t be mad. But-” he breaks himself off, getting out of the bed to open the bedside drawer. “I’ll still have to tie you up.” You notice that he’s brought out a tie and a bottle of lube. He leans in to tie your hands away from you, and a part of you gets embarrassed that Mingyu’s seeing you like this, because you’ve never let him tie you up, because you didn’t know you were into it, you would rather tie him up. But your pussy throbs when your hands are tied behind you, leaving your breasts arched out towards the front, and Wonwoo extends one hand to enter two fingers into your wet pussy as he goes back to position and resumes kissing Mingyu, his other hand holding on to Mingyu’s hips.

It’s funny to see how quiet Mingyu is with Wonwoo, all pliant and desperate. When he’s with you, he’s running his mouth endlessly, babbling or being a brat, giggling whenever either of you slip up the slightest, and yapping even through the most intense of orgasms. But Wonwoo, no words seem to come out of his mouth. Only moans, pretty moans of varying pitches, whines and whimpers, the occasional grunt and groan, because any word he tries to form gets broken down into nonsensical sounds ending in whimpers.

Wonwoo removes his hand from your cunt, leaving you high on the impending orgasm, and feeling so, so empty. You almost whine at the loss, but Wonwoo speaks before you, clearly he’s having a moment with his boyfriend so you don’t want to interrupt greedily.

“Did you wear that all evening?” When Mingyu replies in affirmative, a breathy yes, Wonwoo grunts and twists his boyfriend’s nipples before kissing him again. You wonder for a second what that is, but then you twist your body to look at the spot where Wonwoo’s other hand is.

You find a crystal butt plug sitting snugly between Mingyu’s asscheeks, shining bright against his golden skin, and your pussy clenches at the sight. Wonwoo’s hand touches all around it, clearly teasing, before he pulls away from the kiss and leans over Mingyu to see the butt plug himself. There’s a sudden gasp as Wonwoo lightly slaps over the plug, and then slowly, excruciatingly slowly pulls out the butt plug. “Please, no- no, pl- I- Wo- sir!” Mingyu fumbles over his words as he feels his gaping hole become empty, and Wonwoo sighs at the sight, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he controls himself. “Such a whore, Gyu, wearing the prettiest plug in your pretty ass all night for anyone to feel up.” “No! O-only for- for you, sir!” Wonwoo’s fingers easily enter the slender hole and you feel your enter body get hot when you feel his other hand also at your pussy, his thumb flicking your clit. He’s fingering the two of you simultaneously but his face is so focused, so resolute, while the two of you are breaking apart from his touch.

Wonwoo’s hand soon leaves your pussy and you see him turn around Mingyu with the younger’s back towards him. “Ready?” He whispers in his boyfriend’s ear, biting his earlobe and taking off their boxers. Mingyu’s whining reply comes soon after, “Please, need it inside me, please sir!” Wonwoo chuckles, and he squirts lube into his hand before entering Mingyu’s hole one finger at a time.

Your eyes are blown wide at the sight before you, as you see Mingyu squirm and whine as Wonwoo enters nearly three fingers at once, pumping slowly. Mingyu can’t help but babble, “Please, I’m ready- so ready, don’t need prep-” “You’re right, whores do not need prep. Your ass was made for me, wasn’t it?” Mingyu whines again, and you move in front of him to kiss his bare chest, licking his nipples softly, and you suddenly feel Mingyu’s body jolt up.

Wonwoo’s cock has entered him, up to the hilt, all in one go. It’s not easy- seeing that Wonwoo’s cock is long and incredibly erect right now, but Mingyu takes it all in with a scream of his boyfriend’s name. “God, still so tight. Fucking heaven.” Wonwoo sets his own lazy pace, his hands casually gripping Mingyu’s hips. Mingyu’s cock is still so erect, its bulbous head red and sensitive as it leaks all over the bed without any attention given to it. You see Mingyu enter a completely different level of submissiveness, where he doesn’t even want to be a brat and tease back, he gives in completely as his boyfriend fucks him stupid.

“Gyu? How about you eat out this pretty pussy here, hmm? You like it, don’t you?” “Yes, I wanna- please- can I?” Mingyu looks up at you, as if for permission, but you instantly pull his head down towards your wet pussy and he dives right in, his tongue entering you immediately. You and Wonwoo both moan out loud at the sight, and he begins fucking Mingyu faster. He fucks Mingyu into you, and the additional force makes Mingyu suck your clit and make out with your pussy even better. You throw your head back in pleasure, feeling a knot in your stomach building up.

“I’m going to come all over his face, Wonwoo. Will you let him come with me?” Wonwoo chuckles, “Hold on for a second longer, look at the pathetic way his cock is leaking. He’s going to come untouched again, isn’t he?” Mingyu’s moans buzz into your pussy and your voice becomes desperate. “Please let him come now! I can’t hold it-” And that’s it. You climax right then, your essence covering all of Mingyu’s face, who licks you through the orgasm, and you see him hit his orgasm too, his cock wringing out ropes and ropes of cum as he comes untouched for the second time that night. “You were right, Wonwoo. He really is pathetic. He’s still hard after coming twice untouched.” It’s so hot to talk about Mingyu like he’s not even in the room, and you can see how much he likes it. Almost as if you both can use him as you please for your pleasure only. His big body falls limp on the bed, whining, when Wonwoo suddenly pulls out of him and leans over to kiss you.

As Mingyu lies down, recovering his breath, Wonwoo tugs you closer to him and kisses you. His mouth is warmer now, the kiss more sloppy, and the scent of Mingyu is not entangled with his own masculine scent, making you heady with pleasure. Wonwoo’s hands soon find your clit as he rubs you hard and fast while making out with you, his other hand gripping your hair to hold you in place as your knees almost buck and collapse under his ministrations. “I’m not done with you yet, doll. Tired already?” He pulls away but you chase him and end up licking all over his jaw. “Not tired. I’ll take whatever you give, Wonwoo.”

You almost miss Wonwoo’s low grunts when Mingyu whines from beside you, “Me too… Y/N-ie kiss me too.” Identical, indulging, fond smiles burst out on both your and Wonwoo’s faces, and even he can’t come to scold his cute boyfriend. “Attention whore,” Wonwoo’s words don’t sting, they’re filled with a gentle fondness that recplicates the one in your heart, and you both lie on either side of Mingyu to kiss him all over, you make out with him and Wonwoo lavishes his skin with hickeys that will leave marks tomorrow. Mingyu sighs and whimpers in the spotlight, and you notice how his dick chubs up again. Wonwoo notices it too, because he laughs, a mean undertone in his voice, as bends down to kiss the tip of his boyfriend’s thick cock.

“You’re so pretty all over,” you whisper to Mingyu as you kiss his stomach and eventually take his hardening cock into your mouth, inch-by-inch to avoid gagging on the thick length. Your hands are still tied behind you, so you can’t stroke the rest of the length that doesn’t fit inside your mouth. “Don’t praise him, don’t encourage him to be more of a cockslut,” Wonwoo says, his fingers fondling your breasts as he watches you suck his boyfriend’s cock. Mingyu’s dick spews pre-cum into your mouth with the simultaneous praise and degradation, and you relax your jaws to deepthroat him further.

“Y/N! You- god, Y/N-ie you’re so good at this, please- Wonwoo, can I fuck her mouth? Please?” Your mouth waters at the idea so you look up at Wonwoo, your tongue still licking at Mingyu’s tip, begging him to let Mingyu fuck his big cock into your mouth, but Wonwoo glares back, looking ready to devour you. You haven’t missed how his cock is still rock-hard, proud and red against his abs, so you move up from Mingyu’s dick and bend down to place kisses on Wonwoo’s tip too. He groans at the contact, cursing under his breath. Then he sits up and flips you around, until you’re on your stomach on the bed, your mouth inches away from Mingyu’s dick, and Wonwoo’s dick pokes at your folds, rubbing himself with the wetness of your pussy. He places a hand on the back of your head and pushes you down on Mingyu’s cock, right as he sinks into your cunt, the whole length inside you at once, and you moan around the cock in your mouth. Your hands still tied behind you, you feel your nipples brushing against the sheets, and all the stimulation is too much to take.

Your mouth full of cock, you push yourself back towards Wonwoo, to take as much of him as you can, desperate for him to set a faster pace, but you can’t take your mouth off the dick to tell him the same. Thankfully, he seems to read your mind, or rather, his self-restraint breaks, as he snaps his hips faster against you, moaning about how tight you are, so wet, so warm, so sexy and how he’s moulding you to fit his cock, shaping you to fit you, and how he wants to come inside. So you get up from Mingyu’s cock for a second, to say, forming words slowly, “You can, Wonwoo.” His pace stutters, “I can? You sure?” “Yes please. I want it. Want you to fill me up, Mr. Jeon!”

And that does it for him. He buries himself into you as he comes inside you, his thick cum being pushed further inside as he lazily thrusts you through it. You come seconds later as Mingyu himself comes inside your mouth, and you take it all in, your body eager to please. Mingyu sighs, his face red but the pleasure clearly painted on his features as he flashes you a sated grin. As Wonwoo pulls out of you, he gets off the bed to bring a piece of cloth from his washroom, and you move up to kiss Mingyu, the kiss slow, exhausted, but so warm. You’re smiling against each other’s mouths, the skin-to-skin contact feeling like heaven, and he runs his hands through your hair. When Wonwoo comes and sits next to you, he kisses his boyfriend first, another gentle, warm kiss that makes your heart full. “You did so well, baby.” He tells Mingyu, who gives him another dopey smile, before he turns to you, and kisses you too. “You too, darling.”

Darling. You melt at the pet name, stretching your hand to hug Wonwoo and Mingyu at the same time, the latter snuggling into you, needy after all the sex and Wonwoo chuckles. “Let me clean you up and then you guys cuddle.” “And you?” Mingyu’s voice is small, whiny, and Wonwoo laughs. “I’ll be right back with y’all. I need a shower, okay?” And when he kisses your and Mingyu’s forehead and disappears into the washroom in all his naked glory, you sigh peacefully and snuggle into Mingyu’s chest, the latter placing tiny kisses near your hairline as you both fall asleep.

(vi)

You know, somewhere in the middle of the night, Wonwoo had joined the two of you in that big bed. You’d ended up sandwiched between the two men, your head snuggled in Wonwoo’s chest, as Mingyu spooned you from behind. Safe to say, you did not need a blanket all night.

Like clockwork, your body wakes up at six am, just as the sun begins shining through the pale blue curtains. Wonwoo is not next to you, but the pillow isn’t cold. You can see Mingyu still snoring away, so you gently detach his legs from where it was tangled with yours all night, and get out of the bed. Your legs are still sore, but you manage to find Mingyu’s t-shirt from last night and slip it on and walk out of the room.

In the daylight, you can see just how elegant and posh the house is. Unlike your apartment, the walls are done in dark shades of blue, and you think how accurately it reflects Wonwoo’s soul. The furniture is all wood, and you know that the multiple appliances in the kitchen and the dressing room you see are additions from Mingyu’s end. You find Wonwoo standing in the open kitchen, leaning against the counter as he hums softly and sips his coffee. Seeing you, he looks up and a beautiful smile spreads across his face.

In the daylight, Wonwoo looks different.

In the daylight, Wonwoo looks attainable. You step closer to him and hug him, your arms finding your way around his slender waist, and he hugs you back, resting his chin atop your head. “Good morning, darling. Can’t sleep even on a Sunday?” You laugh into his shoulder. “Neither can you. There’s a reason why people say we’re dating our work.” “Not me.” He pulls your head away to face him, “I know I’m dating two beautiful people, the most beautiful people in the world, my favourites.” Your heart fills at the fondness in his eyes.

“Wonwoo, I know we talked last night, but are you s-” “Are you sure? What you say matters the most, baby.” “I am, but you and Mingyu are in an open relationship and all…” “That was another ploy, of course. You think I could share Mingyu with anyone except his pretty little best friend who looks like a dream?” His words make you cringe, and you wonder if anyone ever sees this side of Wonwoo except Mingyu… and now, you. You lean in to kiss his pouty, pink lips, and Wonwoo’s nose scrunches up into an adorable smile. God, that’s the first time you’re seeing this smile. So you kiss him again, eager to get him to react like that again. And he does. The nose scrunch becomes a permanent feature as he kisses you deeper, and you can taste the coffee in his mouth.

“Do you want coffee?”

“Yes, please. Should I wake up Mingyu? I don’t want him to feel sad later for missing anything.” You hug Wonwoo one more time before you feel another pair of hands grabbing you from behind and crushing the two of you in a bear hug. “I feel sad already, Y/N-ie. Thank you for thinking about me. Who do I even have in this world except you, hmm? Certainly not my boyfriend.” Mingyu’s morning voice is extra lispy and extra raw, but it feels so warm near your back.

You open your eyes to see Wonwoo kissing Mingyu from above you. “Please don’t gang up against me on our first day together.” Wonwoo’s quiet mumbling doesn’t go unnoticed and you and Mingyu both end up laughing. You hug the two of them again, and your heart settles into a warm peace you never want to get out of, for your life.

#simpxxstan #favourite wonwoo mingyu #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt #svt x reader #seventeen x you #svt smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #mingyu smut #seventeen poly #seventeen minwon #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen mingyu #mingyu x wonwoo #seventeen fic #Spotify

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machiavxlli · 3 months ago

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Alina listened to every word he expressed. Was it the delirium from the cold, or the hunger that made him loosen his tongue? No matter, whatever it was it was working. Alina let go of his chin when he was done, but her eyes remained on him. "That's sweet, isn't it?" The woman took a step back, her gaze finally leaving the man and looking out the window. It was a small passage to the outside world. The cell had a nice view of the sea, but let the cold in. They were in the early months of winter, and the cold crept through any crack it could find. "You may believe your King is a good monarch, but I can assure you it is quite the opposite. He would tell you whatever he wanted, to make you believe in his competence, Samuel."

Alina thought back to when Florian was still King. She was part of the council than, but Florian seldom heard her council. Alina believed it had something to do with her gender, that Florian refused to be counseled by a woman. It didn't matter much, since Alina spent most of her time away from court. When she was there though, she caught glimpses of Samuel here and there. They never spoke, until the fateful day he was captured.

Alina made eye contact. "Let me say this. Your love is an unrequited fantasy, and Florian could not care less if you lived or died. It's who he is." Venom laced her tongue as she expressed. "You said it yourself, you are his servant. And all servants are expendable to him." Alina recalled the terror the staff lived in whenever it was time to entertain Florian's many balls and festivities. The old King had once broken a glass against the head of a butler, causing him to bleed. "But I can help you. I can help you get out of this unscathed, if you just help me."

her fingers were warm on his skin. he hadn't noticed, really, how cold he had become, but now that the heat of her fingertips seeped into him, the rest of his frame felt as if it had been dunked in ice water. he could only look at her, dark eyes trained on hers as her words reignited the hatred he felt for her. " who are you to decide where my loyalties must lie ? " samuel jerked at his chains, rattling the metal, trying to slip free. the unforgiving iron did not budge, but he managed to yank his chin out of her grasp, at least. " of course i admire him. " his words sounded too raw, too defensive. the fatigue, the strain on his body, the hunger-- they had taken their toll. no longer could he hide the raw emotions that lurked just beneath his surface whenever he spoke of his king. " he is a good ruler, he-- he-- he takes care of his people. he takes care of me. " he should stop talking, he knew, but samuel found himself unable to stop the words tumbling from his lips. " he told me-- he told me i was his most trusted servant. me. no one else. he looked at every person in his court and he saw the truth, he saw that i was most devoted to him. " a muscle in his jaw twitched. he was fighting against himself now, struggling to keep his voice even and failing. " and he has rewarded me handsomely for it. " here, he managed to stop himself, keeping his most precious, private memory to himself, unwilling to share it with the woman who had become his torturer. florian had kissed him. it had happened only once, and the king had tasted of wine & grease & tobacco, but it had happened. florian loved him. " there is nothing you can do to make me forget where i belong. " at florian's side. no-- at his feet.

#tw abuse mention #tw slight sexism mention #muse: alina kovalenko #thread: alina and samuel #queued

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historiaxvanserra · 10 days ago

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In Hades I Am With You | Chapter One

Pairing: Azriel x Hewn!city reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: With rising tensions across the sea causing unrest in the capital, the two warring factions of the Night Court must come to terms.

Reader is the ill-fated daughter of a cruel Lord of Night; plagued with prophetic dreams and cursed with rare, arcane gifts. Azriel is the stoic spymaster; forged from violence, lethal and honed to a fatal sharpness. The pair find themselves bound to one another through sacred oaths. For better or worse.

Tags: Forced proximity, strangers to lovers, Night Court lore, Priestess reader, discussions of SA and abuse, discussions of sex work, criticism of misogyny, sexism, and general abuse in all its forms, eventual smut, slight corruption kink, reader is incredibly romantic and horny.

Please let me know what you think. This chapter and readers powers are heavily inspired by Poppy from From Blood and Ash.

I was born on a night like this, I think.

Storm-streaked, he had once called me. If only he could see me now; standing at the foothills of the mountain, wind-beaten and with the acrid taste of seafret on my lips. When I was a girl my father had told me that I came into the world the way the Old Gods had. Born from the merciless, blue-green depths of the sea.

To be beautiful and cruel, and fearless.

Now fear is all I know.

The streets of the great mountain city are plagued by a feverish summer storm and, at the fatal peal of thunder I cast my eyes skyward. A terrible dread coils in the pit of my stomach.

The visions come with the storm; fleeting images of an unforgiving tempest as it ravages all in its wake. The dark figure of a man, who whispers my name like a prayer.

The God of plagues and prophecy.

Death had first come to me in a dream. Haunting and prophetic. Shrouded in seraphic blue light.

Heat swells beneath the surface of the hydrangea clouds and the dark waters of the Sidra turn violent. Ivory seafoam coils and contorts violently like the tendrils of some grotesque sea-snake. I think of an old story my father had told me once. A human princess from the continent. She had been beautiful once. Until some dark, deathless God had lay claim to her. A monstrous thing. Rising from the depths of her watery tomb to lay waste to the men who had hurt her. Thrashing and writhing as the waves crested over the port of this wretched city.

The crack of forked, white lightning against the darkening horizon breaks my reverie and Scylla nestles into my side with a bruising force. I smooth a hand flat on her muzzle. Her lustrous dark mane feels soft under my tender touch and she exhales a hot breath that rises like steam in the wet heat of the Summer storm.

“Calm, Scylla.” I whisper tenderly to the mare I had taken to mount. My lips graze her dappled coat along her muzzle and I welcome the earthy fetor as it fills my senses.

“Gentle, girl.” I reaffirm, patting the mount affectionately as I tie the reins to the crumbling statue of some prince long dead.

“I’ll be back soon.” I promise. My voice wavers with another rumble of thunder.

When I was a girl, my father had told me to count the moments between the cacophony of thunder and the flash of white lightning to work out how many leagues away it might be.

At this moment I know that I am standing in the eye of the storm.

Scylla watches warily as my figure disappears into the darkness of the lower city. I still hear her in the distance long after I am gone. Cloistered in the darkness of the city’s narrow alleys I remove the onyx veil that shrouds my features. I bury it in the folds of the plain, grey cloak I had stolen from Leda.

I weave through the long, winding streets. I observe the world in flashes of cruel light and sound that permeates the suffocating darkness that saturates the lower city. I hear the echo of it in the lurid shouts of merchants, and the vulgar songs of sailors, coming home from the docks at the mouth of the Sidra. I listen to them all; as they beg, barter and brawl in the filthy streets. The fetor of decay lingers in the air like festering fruit flesh in the feverish heat of the slums. Throngs of beggar children chase the merchant's carts as they roll through the putrid pools of waste upon the wet, cobbled stone. Though, I only catch fleeting glimpses of them each time the cruel, seraphic light cuts through the blanket of the dark.

As I pass through the Streets of Silk, I hear the bawdy rhymes of the painted whores as they call out into the night like a siren song; all sultry-eyed and dressed in lace that billows in the wretched breeze like the tendrils of a monstrous chimera. Fated to lure wayward sailors to their watery tombs.

It is then, as the city bells toll their mournful song, that I reach my destination.

The building stands as one of the last unsanctioned pleasure halls in the city; its weary slate facade is cut from the same dark stone as the mountain that oppresses the city. Its neglected roof tiles gleam in the pallid silver faelights like moonlight on the murky-green depths of the Sidra. Above the door, I observe the pillory that bears the establishment's name. The Jade Pearl, painted in varying gaudy shades of green and gold.

The pleasure hall on the outer banks of the mountain city is alive with sordid activity. The whores in their fine silks twirl and dance in merry rings like water nymphs, and the serving girls sing sultry harmonies like siren songs, as they fill up the cups of patrons with sticky, honeyed mead. The high-arching melody of lyres and harps cut through the cacophony of carnal sounds; the officious laughter of Darkbringers, the vulgar curses and honeyed words, whispered into the skin of wind-beaten sailors and fat merchants.

I traverse the narrow corridors that run like veins into the heart of the tavern. Its dark antechamber is bathed in shadow and dying fireglow that casts the word in a pallid light. The emerald bar curves around the hall in the shape of a crescent moon and the tables dapple the room like stars.

“What a pretty creature you are, Mistress.” A beautiful wraith compliments, tugging and the long sleeves of my stolen robes. With tender touches and whispers the wraith works the buttons of my robes until I am left in the thin champagne shift I had worn beneath my cloak.

She’s a slender looking creature, with pale blue eyes that look almost silver in the dying light of the hearth. Her long, white hair is braided over her shoulder like the tendril of some mythical siren.

Dangerous and inviting.

“Whatever you desire, be it wine or women, I will procure for you tonight,” She purrs, her voice low and sultry as she looks at me with those pale eyes. She’s dressed in the gauzy, silk robes of a whore. The garment flows like water over the curve of her hip and with a deep slit in its middle that exposes the graceful swell of her breasts beneath. And through her guise of beauty and seduction, I see the chains that bind her.

As I am bound. To this court. To the mountain that we call home.

“A drink would be nice,” I acquiesce, sliding a gold coin across the polished surface of the bar, “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“It is no trouble at all, mistress- but this far too much coin.” The wraith begins to untether the cracked leather coin purse from her hip. She begins to exchange the gold for smaller coins of silver and bronze, counting them in her open palm.

“Please - keep it -- I’ve no use for such things anyway.” I command, nodding towards the coin in her hand. The wraith shakes her head and tries to protest but a call from the brutish looking owner draws the girl's attention away from me. I look up from my spot, across the painted emerald surface of the bar, to the games table. A voice, thick with mirth and malice, beckons my attention.

“There are rumors amongst the legion that the High Lord will return to Court by the moon's turn.” The cruel laugh of a Darkbringer draws my interest as they sit around an emerald table. Crimson cards and dice litter the surface of the table and in its center a collection of coins. The male at the head of the table is dressed in his court robes; a dark overcoat with silver embroidery along the collars and cuffs. The others have abandoned their stifling robes in lieu of casual black tunics and pants. It is only through the tendrils of dark that shroud them in shadow that I know what they are.

These men are members of The Night Court’s legion of Darkbringers; and servants of the High Lord’s Steward. The larger of the three, unsheathes his dagger and places it atop the pile of coins in lieu of money.

A reminder of their lethal potential.

A vein of dark power that speaks to a coming vision plagues me in those spaces between the seconds. Untethered and adrift in the ether I allow my fragile mind to wander. I see a lake from which the dead rise like a devastating tempest. I see a King atop a dias, and a throne of splintered bone. And, through the blanket of the dark, I see the gleam of Illyrian Steel and age worn bone.

Then, that tenuous connection to the Otherworld is severed.

“The commander of the city watch says that tensions in the lower city are rising.” The deep timbre of the Darkbringer rouses me from thought again.

“I heard that the Lord Protector plans to broker an alliance with the Death Lord himself,”

“ if only to free himself of Rhysand’s leash.”

“--bring him and that bitch of his to heel morelike.” The youngest of the three smiles malevolently.

“Enough of that, boys, we’re in the presence of a Lady.” The leader implies dangerously and at once, three heads incline in my direction. There are no Ladies allowed in this part of the city. The females of this forsaken city are bound to the Moonstone Palace. Forced to our knees in deference to our male oppressors. The only women that still dwell in the lower city are whores and exiles. Of which I am neither.

Something dark and terrible roils in the pit of my stomach as the male approaches. I pull the hood of the austere, grey cloak to veil my face in shadows. The pale eyes of the Darkbringer meet mine through the din and his smile curls around the sharpness of his teeth.

The cold, amethyst hilt of a dagger kisses the tender flesh of my thigh beneath the many lawyers of dark fabric and I am reminded of my own lethal potential. The dagger had been passed from my grandsire some years ago. Made and forged from the ancient power that dwells beneath the mountain that we call home. The dagger itself had been set in a hilt of dark wood, trimmed with silver and precious gems; amethyst, sapphire and onyx. Its blade was fashioned of Illyrian steel and honed to a fatal sharpness.

“What a pretty little bird, she is.” He taunts as he approaches, his manner imposing and vindictive as he takes my chin roughly between his fingers.

“I am no Lady, Ser.” I swallow thickly. It is true, of course. I am no Lady of the Night Court. I had been a babe when they found me. The cursed daughter to a cruel lord and some terrified nymph.

My mother died giving me life and left me at the ruined Temple of Beara, the Mistress of Storms, deep in the foothills of the mountain. In the hopes that the Priestesses would shelter me from the cruelty of this court. After the temple fell I was brought before the Lords of Night and given to the Temple of Astarion on account of my rare and ancient gift.

“Then perhaps you might regale my friends and I with the tale of how a pretty thing like you ends up here.” The Darkbringer replies, sliding a coin across the table. His gaze drops to the rings that adorn my hands; fine rings of onyx and amethyst, mined from the wretched bowels of the mountain that I have come to call home. The mark of my good breeding.

“I assure you Ser, I am no whore either.” I chastise, sliding my hand beneath the folds of my cloak. The lust that pools in his eyes is a dreadful thing. Lecherous and heinous. Though I take comfort in the knowledge that my true identity is concealed.

As the Pythia of the Night Court a dark veil typically obscures my features from the view of men; save from my eyes, which are heavily darkened with kohl and pigments of sapphire and amethyst that hail from the mines of Illyria. The veil protects me as much as it oppresses me. For if male like this knew of the power I possess, they would seek to control it, to covet that power until I were a vessel of their ill intent. That is why I was given to the Temple as a child. Why my estranged father and the Steward of the Night Court seek to make me their weapon. I know then that if I am discovered I will suffer for it. The kind of suffering that only exists here, in the rotting depths of Hewn City.

“No, I see that now.” Devilment darkens his pale gaze and the cut of amethyst shines in his dark eyes, he releases me from his bruising grip with a dark laugh.

“Curious little thing.” One of the men whispers.

“This is not the place for a gentle creature like you, Lady” He whispers, his pointed finger ghosts the cut of onyx on my hand, “luckily for you I am feeling quite merciful.”

“I am not as gentle as I look, Ser.” I warn. The three Darkbringers laugh cruelly. I turn to leave when a firm hand closes around my wrist and twists me so I am held in the Darkbringers bruising embrace. His lips drag a tortuous line along the side of my jaw.

“Now, now little bird,” He coos mockingly against the shell of my ear as I struggle violently against him, “flighty little thing.”

Bile rises in my throat as the Darkbringer’s companions laugh and fingers dig into the knife at my thigh, unsheathing it in a moment and pressing it against the male's pale throat. Unshed tears line my eyes like flecks of silver starlight as his hands still on my waist.

“That is what you call mercy?” I laugh bitterly at the man, his eyes hardening as the Illyrian steel blade glints in the dim light.

“Let go of her, Aeres.” The eldest of the three orders and the Darkbringer unhands me at once.

“Now fly back to your cage, little bird.” The elder male nods towards the rear exit beyond the bar.

On uncertain feet I Traverse the narrow aisle of the tavern I find myself adrift amongst the dancing tide of patrons. A throng of women, clad in gauzy robes and underthings, twist and contort like columns of technicolor seafoam. The cruel laughter from the dance floor pulls me deeper into the wretched heart of the pleasure house. Lurid whistles and a series of vulgar gestures rouse my attention. A female; dressed in spider silk and lace coils around a portly merchant at the games table. She slips into his lap with a serpentine grace. I watch as the merchant’s weathered hand traces the line of her throat to the swell of her breasts. Smacking his hand away, the woman laughs, it is a beautiful, false thing that glitters in the pallid light.

“Well, girl I hope you fuck better than you play cards.” The merchant complains, laying down his deck of crimson cards. The female curls a painted hand around the cuffs of his tunic and whispers into his ear and the merchant's mouth curves into a lurid smile. One thick hand draws down her stomach, the other brushes the flesh of her thigh, slipping under the folds of her robe between her legs --

Oh.

I avert my eyes at the scene as a blush kisses its way along my neck and chest at the intimacy of it. The merchant rises from his seat at the table, taking the female slender hand in his. The whispered words they exchange are too low for me to hear but her answering smile is enough to know it was something wicked. The female rises leads the merchant towards the sleeping chambers beyond the emerald curtains.

I watch as the merchant's shadowy figure is swallowed by the darkness as the curtain is drawn. My attention lingers far after they are gone, leaving only the smell of salt and jasmine in their wake.

I am overcome with a strange, prophetic awareness.; dreams of shadowed light and a bleeding star, scarred hands that track the constellations as they reign over the black tapestry of the sky.

The high-arching symphony of strings and lyres blossoms in the feverish heat of the tavern. The soft melody of the lyres seems to echo off of the high, domed ceiling, as the heavy beat of a drum joins the cacophony of sound. It’s a hypnotizing, deeply sensual beat, that is unlike anything I have ever heard.

Primal and carnal.

I find myself adrift in the sway of the dancing sea. Slowly, I make my way along the length of the bar, reaching out to touch the gauzy jade curtains, parting them slowly --

“I don’t think you want to go in there, Mistress.” The lilting voice of the wraith warns.

“Why not?” I ask curiously, lowering my hand from the curtain. The wraith laughs prettily, her cerulean eyes glinting in the dying light of the fire.

“Some don’t appreciate an audience, Sweet girl.”

“An audience?” I ask.

Through the darkness of the antechamber, I see the silhouettes of the whores and their patrons, writhing and undulating with the beat of the drum. The music is punctuated by panting breaths and lilting moans, and the vulgar sound of men as they find their pleasure.

“Oh.” The wraith laughs again, her painted lips curl into a wicked smile.

“Is it your first time here, Priestess?” The wraith leans in, the rich tenor of her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. Fear coils in my stomach and my grip on the emerald surface of the bar tightens.

“I’m no priestess.” I try to emulate her melodious laughter and my eyes narrow in faux concern.

“You needn't lie to me, Pythia. Your secret's safe with me.” Her words resound in my head and realization dawns. She’s daemati.

“That type of secret is not safe with anyone.”

“What could I gain from exposing it to anyone? I wish you no ill will.” She returns.

“You’d earn the Lord Protector's favor, of that I am certain --.”

The wraith's face twists into a grimace and her sapphire stare hardens to a cold, wicked thing. “I have no need for that viper’s favour.” The venom laced in her voice speaks to the malice she holds for this place, its patrons and the cruel light of Hewn City. Many within the court resent the way in which we live, clinging to the slivers of power we are allowed, cowering in the darkness of the mountain.

Things are changing as of late, war looms ever closer and whispers of dissent from the continent bring about unrest in the people. Many turn to the High Lord and his Lady for liberation from the dying vestiges and brutal traditions of this court. For many years I myself have lived in servitude and isolation, serving Keir, The Lord Protector and Steward of the ancient mountain city.

As his coveted oracle; a conduit for his own power.

A cruel wind cuts through the heat of the pleasure hall as the doors open to announce an influx of new patrons. Three men, dressed in court robes enter through the archway, each shaded in shadows and dark wisps of power. My heart hammers thunderously in my chest as the men enter the heart of the establishment.

“A flagon of wine and some dice, Arik.” The Darkbringer announces to the man behind the bar. My face pales from where I stand. These men are of my personal guard; formidable and unwaveringly loyal to my keeper.

These men, these good men, are sworn to a monster, and they must do monstrous things to survive here.

As we all must.

I veil my face with the hood of my stolen cloak, tucking my hair into the collar so that it is concealed from view, and my face obscured almost entirely. If they were to discover me they would be duty bound to drag me back to the Moonstone Palace and throw me down atop the emerald dias for Keir and my father to punish as they see fit.

I take another tentative look across the room and observe the men crowded around the game table with women hanging off them, like a swarm of beautiful and merciless harpies.

“That one’s usual girl looks like you--” The wraith whispers to me, casting her own gaze to Ares who stands alone near the fire rather forlorn for a male in the middle of a brothel.

“She’s busy with her favorite client upstairs. Perhaps you might retrieve her and make your escape.” Slowly, I turn to the wraith who takes my hand gently and leads me along the length of the bar.

“You will find Aelle on the second floor -- take sanctuary there. I’ll come for you when your friends are occupied.”

I hold her hand fondly and press a gold coin into her palm.

“Thank you.” I say. She presses a chaste kiss to my cheek and ushers me up the stairs.

As I ascend the steps of the pleasure hall, I slip a hand between the folds of my cloak, fingers ghosting the hilt of the dagger strapped to my thigh once more.

The upper levels of the house are painted a deep emerald color and the flickering fae lights saturate the long, narrow corridors in onyx wisps of shadow. The room at the end of the corridor is stepped in near darkness, veins of indigo and navy that obscure everything in a shroud of blue-darkness. The mantle is hung with half-burned candles and a garland of foxglove and jasmine. The antique furniture looks as though it has been carved from the black wood of ash trees and the armchairs in front of the dying hearth are embroidered with dark floral motifs and silver threads.

I draw in a sharp breath and the scent of pine and night-blooming florals shrouds me in its winter kiss.

A flash of seraphic light illuminates the room and a deep voice, shaded in nightshade calls out from the blue-darkness.

“I’ve been waiting for you,”

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel acotar

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sl-ut · 8 months ago

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a prince’s desire

so sorry if this sucks lol I just got really high and wrote this in like 2 hours lolol

pairing: rhaenyra targaryen x fem!pregnant!reader x daemon targaryen

description: after being reunited with her lover, rhaenyra takes her back to dragonstone to join her family and requests that daemon take her as a second wife. now, over a year after the wedding, rhaenyra wants nothing more than to see her wife pregnant, and daemon is more than happy to oblige.

warnings: SMUT, pregnancy, reader gets pretty depressed while she's preggo, mentions of masturbation, angst, slight canon divergence, alcohol consumption, mentions of (consensual) adultery turned polyamory, mentions of death (adult and children :((( ), polygamy, swearing, all other canon warnings (incest (i try my hardest to not lay this one on thick bc ew), violence, sexism, etc)

words: 5K

date posted: 27/03/24

previous installments: a princess's order a lady's demand

After his third marriage, Daemon Targaryen had absolutely no intentions of taking another wife. His history with married life had not necessarily been a good one; Rhea Royce had been nothing but a royal pain in his ass; He’d been happy with Laena, though her life came to an end far too soon; He did love Rhaenyra, though ambition and pride often came between them. Mistresses, sure–Daemon was a rather insatiable man, and Rhaenyra had been almost consistently pregnant during their early years of marriage, but he’d never even once considered that he might have to stand through yet another wedding ceremony, especially one that had been arranged and encouraged by his still living wife and future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

He hadn’t been at all surprised when Rhaenyra confessed to him that she had once loved her childhood friend, nor that she did not think that she would ever truly be able to move past the conflict between them or love another quite the same. Of course, she loved Daemon, and even Laenor and Harwin to some degree, but none would ever stand up to her very first love that she’d allowed to slip through her fingers like running water. He was equally unsurprised to find that she’d not returned to their rooms on their first night back in King’s Landing, nor that she would return in the early hours of the morning with a familiar glow that he’d only seen on her after their own late night activities, especially since he’d caught wind earlier in the evening that Lady Y/n Y/l/n had returned to the capitol a widow.

There were things that he had expected from this relationship; The two would fuck, of course, to make up for lost time, they would spend the majority of their days strolling through the gardens as they had done when they were girls, and Y/n would perhaps even return to Dragonstone with them as her mistress. Daemon could not exactly blame his wife for her affections, Lady Y/n was undeniably beautiful, and he would certainly take her to bed if he were ever given the chance. She could remarry, of course, she was still young and she’d already proven herself to be fertile, even if the children had not survived infancy. Any man would be a fool to turn her away, which is exactly why Daemon found himself standing before her on the black-sand shores of Dragonstone, a chalice between them and blood dripping from either of their lips. Rhaenyra had watched on with glee, rushing forward the moment that the ceremony had been complete to engulf her new wife in a tight embrace, sealing their own union with a firm kiss.

Daemon had not been included in the wedding night activities, though he had been invited to watch, which he did so from the balcony of their chambers in order to give them their own space. Rhaenyra’s body had been glowing in the candle light, curves and smooth, milky skin on display for him and their new wife to admire as they both had time and time again in the past. Daemon could not tear his gaze away from their new wife’s figure, no matter how hard he tried. He blamed it on the novelty of having a new wife, especially one that he was not even able to touch on their wedding night, and he might have reacted the same way if he were to see any woman naked for the first time. He stroked himself on the balcony, low grunts leaving his lips as her moans reached his ears, eyes tracing over her breasts, the pudge of her stomach, the curve of her spine, and–oh… he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a woman’s core glisten like that before, nor had he ever heard such a prominent squelch as the Targaryen princess dipped her fingers inside. He’d always known she was a beautiful lady, but now, oh now he was able to understand to some degree why Rhaenyra was so strongly under her spell.

Just over a year had passed, and Daemon had still yet to enjoy his newest wife to the extent that he would have liked. He did enjoy getting to know her personally, finding her much more amusing than he had expected, and they often found themselves sitting together in the evenings while Rhaenyra was busy with her royal duties. They had kissed each other on several occasions, and she had once allowed him to kneel beneath her skirts one evening after a tad too much wine, but nothing further had developed in their physical relationship.

She had fit into their family easier than any of them could have expected. She was good with the children, taking them all under her wing as if they were her own, though her relationship with both Rhaenyra and Daemons older children was a bit strained in the beginning. Children were a bit of a sore topic for her; She rarely spoke of her own late children, but both Daemon and Rhaenyra could easily tell how broken she was over their deaths. She and Rhaenyra had bonded even more after Rhaenyra had lost her own daughter in labour, all three parties agreeing that Rhaenyra would not have any more children.

That did not change the fact that both Daemon and Rhaenyra could tell that Y/n longed to be a mother once more. She honoured her own boys on their name days, and on the anniversaries of their deaths, but none of Rhaenyra’s children saw her as a mother, nor did she expect them to. They both noticed the way she had this longing stare in her eyes each time that one of the younger children called for their mother, or as Jacaerys and Lucerys slowly grew into young men, as her own children would not be much younger than they are now had they survived their sickness. It was just after the one year anniversary of Daemon and Y/n’s wedding that Rhaenyra proposed to him that they offer Y/n the chance to have another child, as many as she was willing to carry, but of course it would ultimately be her decision; Neither of them were very fussed either way, they both already had a small militia of children of their own, but they would be happy to welcome more into the world, especially if it meant that she would be tied to the Targaryen bloodline through more than marriage.

They waited a while longer to bring this to her, but Rhaenyra had been subtly encouraging her to spend more time with Daemon, and even suggested that they might begin sharing a bed with one another from time to time, whether it be on their own or with Rhaenyra present. She assured her that he was in fact attracted to her, pointing out how she is the one that he stares so longingly at when he watches them together. It was not that Y/n had been opposed to this, she was equally as attracted to Daemon as he was to her, but she had not been with a man since her late husband, and she had not expected to ever take another man to bed again now that she and Rhaenyra were officially together.

The conversation was finally brought to her a month after she and Daemon spent their first night together. They had been intimate, but she had still not allowed him to be inside of her, instead opting to pleasure him with her mouth, hands, and breasts. Rhaenyra whispered in her ear during supper one evening, suggesting that they invite their husband to join them that night, which she excitedly agreed to, completely unaware of what sort of proposition they would offer her, and she was especially surprised at how quickly she consented to their idea.

Rhaenyra had knelt behind her that night, both straddling their husband’s hips as the blonde gripped her wife’s waist to aid her movements, guiding her with every bounce of her long cock and whispering praises into her ear between kisses on her neck. Daemon had been uncharacteristically happy to sit back against the headboard and watch as his wives moved in unison over him, grunting as the tight squeeze of her velvet walls around him. He could hardly pull himself away from her lips, eagerly swallowing every one of her sweet moans as he emptied himself inside of her, sighing as she slumped back against Rhaenyra as she reached her own peak.

They had continued this for months until the maester finally confirmed that Y/n was with child, her skin glowing in delight at the thought of having a child to raise with her husband and wife. By the fifth month of her pregnancy, her stomach had swelled enough to show through her heavy gowns, and her hormones had taken full effect of her everyday life.

If it weren’t bad enough that she was constantly fatigued, or that her feet and back ached, or that her breasts were swollen and tender to the mere brush of her gown against her sensitive nipples, she had also grown to be absolutely insatiable. She found that her thighs were constantly slick with her arousal, and that she was able to bring herself to orgasm in the simplest ways, even by just sitting on certain pieces of furniture. Daemon and Rhaenyra could no longer enjoy bedding her on the same night quite as regularly as before, all because of how regularly she was mewling for them; Daemon had even jokingly suggested that they encourage her maids to pleasure her throughout the day so that they could keep up with her, only to be met with Rhaenyra’s palm slamming into the back of his head. It even came to the point where Rhaenyra felt the need to consult the maester about how regularly all three of them were being intimate together, who advised that, as her pregnancy developed, physical intimacy may result in causing her pain.

Instead, Rhaenyra encouraged her to participate in some “self-care” routines, as she had called them, telling her that pregnancy could cause her to think poorly of herself in many ways, so she thought it best that she take long, hot baths under the candlelight, drink honeyed wine and have her maids soak her in scented oils before taking the initiative to pleasure herself as much as she desired. Daemon had not been so keen on this idea, considering that he was constantly finding her with her hands between her thighs and not allowing him to cut in until she had finished, meaning that she was incredibly sensitive and could not take quite as much as she used to be able to before she began this routine. Even Rhaenyra was beginning to regret it, easily noticing the way that her maids now stared at her longingly, likely having seen and heard her in the throes of self-pleasure more times than they had with her husband and wife involved.

When Rhaenyra brought up her annoyances with Daemon, he had been quick to point fingers, claiming that it was entirely her fault that Y/n had not been seeking them out as much. They both came to the conclusion that they needed to get her out of this habit as quickly as she had gotten into it.

“My love,” Rhaenyra smiled sweetly as she entered her chambers, finding her settled in the bathtub with rose petals floating in the water around her. The water rippled around her rounded belly and breasts as they poked out into the warm air. Rhaenyra thought that she had never looked so beautiful in her life, with the exception of their wedding day. “How do you feel? The maester told me you had a bout of sickness after supper.”

The woman opened her eyes, smiling sleepily at her wife as she knelt at her side, one hand dipping in to feel the temperature of the water, “‘M fine, Nyra. I do not think that mutton agrees with our babe.”

The Targaryen woman laughed, “I’m sorry, my love, I know how you enjoy mutton so. I will instruct the cooks to avoid it until the babe arrives then.”

“It’s alright,” Y/n stroked a hand over her belly, “I would give anything to keep her happy.”

“Her?” Rhaenyra asked, settling her hand on the bump as well, “You expect a girl?”

“I do,” Y/n beamed, “I will be happy either way, but I have a feeling. I know how you long for a daughter, as well.”

Rhaenyra flushed, “You are too kind to me my love. I will be happy with our child regardless of gender, so long as they are a part of the one I love the most.”

Y/n giggled, “Do not let our husband hear you speaking like that.”

“He knows his place,” Rhaenyra chuckled, fingers wandering up to brush against the tender flesh of her breast, smirking to herself at the moan that fell from her wife’s lips at the smallest touch.

Rhaenyra turned her head, finding her maids looking bashful in the corner of the room. They had been witness to Y/n’s pleasure before, but never at the hand of one of her spouses.

“Out,” She commanded, “I will finish my wife’s bath on my own.”

They all hesitated for a moment before nodding, curtsying to both women before rushing out.

“Nyra,” Y/n scolded, “I was about to begin my “self-care”.”

“I can care for you, my heart.” The silver-haired woman cooed as she lowered her hand below the surface of the water, taking little care for the sleeve of her gown as her fingertips found the slick button between her thighs.

“It was your idea, Rhaenyra.” Her voice sounded firmer than before, and her once sleepy eyes had grown hard and accusing.

“A stupid one, I must admit,” She sighed, rubbing small circles into her clit, “I miss how insatiable you once were, how you begged for me to touch you, how you begged for our husband’s cock.”

A flash of sadness appeared on her face as sprung to her waterline, “You were tired of me, you do not want me.”

Rhaenyra stopped her movements, “What?”

A soft sob left her lips, “You asked me to take care of myself. I thought it might have been because you and Daemon were busy, but then I came to your rooms one night and–”

She didn’t need to finish for Rhaenyra to understand. She and Daemon had found it difficult to keep up with their wife’s libido, but once she had begun taking care of herself, they still had their own desires and spent many nights together. Rhaenyra felt stupid for not seeing how this would feel to their wife, let alone now that her emotions were heightened. She had not considered herself unattractive until Rhaenyra asked if she mentioned that self pleasure was beneficial for helping her bodily insecurities, only to find that she and Daemon were continuing to fuck without her on the regular.

Y/n pushed her hand away, sitting up and pulling her knees as close to her chest as her stomach would allow, “Leave me.”

“My love–”

“Please,” Her voice cracked, “Send my handmaidens in, I want to go to bed.”

“Y/n, please let me–”

“Go!” She shrieked, tears now falling down her cheeks readily as she pushed herself out of the water abruptly, “Get out!”

The door burst open, her handmaidens appearing in the room with worried expressions at the sound of their lady’s screaming. They rushed forward, helping her step out of the tub and wrapping her in her favourite silk robe.

Rhaenyra watched as she stumbled away, ignoring the water dripping from her as she crawled onto the bed, the most heart-wrenching sobs leaving her lips. The Crown Princess did not want to leave, longing to go after her and make her understand, but the guilt that began to force itself up her throat was too much to bear. Without another word, she pushed through the doorway and into the corridor, rushing to find Daemon.

Y/n did not leave her chambers for three days. She had breakfast, tea, and dinner in her rooms with no company except for her handmaidens. She refused to allow Rhaenyra or Daemon in to see her any time that they had come to visit, even when they each tried to assert their rank over her handmaidens. She was now almost seven months into her pregnancy, and she was continuously wondering to herself how she had let herself be talked into another child. She wept day and night, countless apologies leaving her lips to her late children, begging for their forgiveness and cursing Rhaenyra and Daemon for bringing her walls down so much that she had allowed herself to be in the position to potentially lose yet another child.

On the fourth day, Rhaenrya had decided that enough was enough, and used the secret passageway into her wife’s room. When she found her, she felt her heart clench in her throat, finding her still in nothing but the silk robe that she’d left her in four days earlier, curled in a ball on her favourite sofa and staring blankly out the window. How had she allowed herself to hurt the one person she loved above all else again after vowing to protect her heart with her entire being?

“My love,” Rhaenyra called out, closing the hidden door behind her. She frowned when she was met with complete silence, “My love, can you hear me?”

“What is it, Your Grace?”

Rhaenyra cringed, having only heard Y/n speak to her so formally when she was truly angry with her. “The maester told me you have not slept or eaten in two days. It is not good for the child.”

Y/n scoffed, “The babe.”

“It is not good for you, either, my love.”

Rhaenyra knelt in front of her, hands cupping her cheeks and grimacing at how cold she felt. Rhaenyra had gone to Daemon that night, her pale cheeks flushed red and wet from her tears as she paced for hours, wondering how they would be able to make things right with her–how had she let this happen? How could she make her feel unloved by the two people who loved her more than anything?

“Please look at me,” She whispered, head ducking to meet her hollow gaze. “I’m not sure how I can make you feel how deeply angry I am with myself. I am so, so sorry, my love.”

Y/n sniffled, but did not respond.

“May I explain myself?” Rhaenyra waited for her weak nod before she continued, “I did not mean to make you feel unwanted, by any means. You are sweet, and good, and beautiful, and I could never imagine a world where I would not want you. Daemon and I–we cannot excuse ourselves, but we can explain. We were concerned for you, for how often we were bedding you. The maester told us that we could hurt you, which is why I suggested what I did. I did not mean to imply that we did not want you. In fact, we wanted you so deeply that we turned to each other for the first time in so long because we thought you were more comfortable with taking care of yourself.”

Y/n shook her head, “I only did it because that’s what I thought you wanted.”

“I could never not want you, my beautiful wife.” Rhaenyra pressed a kiss to her clammy cheek.

“I must admit,” Y/n laughed bitterly, “I began to believe after some time that I had become a concubine for you both.”

“I do not think it is custom to love one’s concubine, my sweet.” Rhaenyra chuckled, then turned sombre when she took note of her expression, “My love, else bothers you?”

“I do not want to have another child,” Y/n whispered, “I feel almost as if I am betraying my boys. I will love this child with all of my heart, and nothing makes me more happy than to be tied to you both through blood, but I will not have another.”

Rhaenyra sighed, “I am sorry if you have felt pressured by us.”

“I haven’t,” She shook her head, “But I have done some thinking over the past two days. I have been happy here, and I do want this child, but I’m not sure that I can handle another. This child is a sibling, but to have two, it feels like I am replacing them, and to me they are completely irreplaceable.”

Rhaenyra kissed her head, “You will not have to. I will speak to Daemon, and the maester. We will make sure that this is your last pregnancy.”

“You don’t think that Daemon will be upset with me? He won’t want any more children?”

“If he is, then perhaps we would need to rethink how many people we want in this marriage, don’t you think?”

This made Y/n giggle, and it was like music to Rhaenyra’s ears. She finally leaned into her, wrapping her arms around Rhaenyra’s middle and nuzzling into her neck. Rhaenyra gladly held her, running her fingers through her hair affectionately as she began to notice her breathing grow heavier.

“You must be tired, my sweet,” Rhaenyra turned her head to look at her, “Why don’t you have a bath while I go find you some supper, then you can rest.”

“Will you stay with me while I sleep?” She murmured.

Rhaenyra kissed her lips softly, “Of course I will.”

When Y/n woke up, Rhaenyra was still at her side, her long fingers stroking Y/n’s swollen belly over her thin nightgown.

“Good morning, my love,” She greeted with a small smile.

“Evening, you mean,” Y/n had not even noticed that Daemon had occupied the space behind her in the bed until he spoke up, his own hand reaching around to lay on top of Rhaenyra’s on her belly.

Y/n leaned back into him, sighing at the warmth being emitted from his firm chest, “How long was I sleeping?”

“Almost a day,” He kissed her temple to soothe her as she cried out in surprise, “But you needed it.”

“It’s true,” Rhaenyra affirmed, “You were awake for two days straight. I’ll call your ladies, you must be starving.”

“I am,” Y/n trailed a finger up her arm, “But not for food.”

Rhaenyra shook her head as Daemon chuckled at their wife, “My love, you are very weak right now–”

“Neither of you have touched me in almost two months,” She whined, “Please.”

The two Targaryens shared a glance over her shoulder, Daemon shrugging in response to Rhaenyra’s concerned look.

“Alright,” She finally conceded, “But you must lie there, let us take care of you.”

The woman eagerly nodded, excited whimpers falling from her lips from the slightest drag of Daemon’s lips against her jugular, his fingers pulling the strap of her nightgown down over her shoulder to expose one of her tender breasts. Rhaenyra was quick to pull her into a kiss, tongue forcing itself past her wife’s lips and swallowing every sound she made, her nimble fingers twisting her perky nipple gently.

Everything moved in a blur for Y/n over the next few moments, somehow finding herself now on her back, knees bent as her nightgown was rucked up to settle over her swollen belly, Rhaenyra wasting little time in dragging her tongue torturously through her folds, which had already been dripping with her sweet nectar from the moment that she had woken up. Her cheeks felt warm, embarrassed at how sensitive and wet she’d been before either of them even touched her and at how quickly she was able to feel herself at her peak.

At her side, Daemon was needy for her attention. He tucked two fingers under her chin, quickly turning her head to capture her lips in a warm and messy kiss. Her own eager fingers quickly found the laces of his breeches, tugging at them until they were just loose enough to slide her hand inside and take hold of his rapidly hardening member, their sighs of pleasure being lost in one another’s mouths as she slowly pumped him until he was completely hard, whining in protest as he pushed her touch away.

“Patience, sweet one,” He tsked at her, instead turning his attention to suckling at her breasts, tugging her other strap down to release both of her heaving tits to his mercy.

The wave crashed over her before she could comprehend it, eyes rolling back as neither of them made any move to slow or stop their ministrations as they each licked and sucked at her most sensitive parts until she was trembling with aftershocks.

“Do you think she is ready for me?” Daemon peered down at Rhaenyra, who had continued to lick at her clit softly.

She grinned up at him, “More than she’s ever been.”

He chuckled, reaching his hand down to feel her wetness for himself with a wicked glint in his eyes, “Perhaps we should deprive our needy little wife more often if it means she will always be this responsive.”

Rhaenyra frowned, “You are bold to assume that either of us will be able to resist for so long ever again, husband. I’m certain that I can’t.”

“Perhaps I merely need to be reminded, I may not have my wits about me.”

Within seconds, his clothes had been completely removed and was was dragging her by the ankles until her bum was hanging off the edge of the mattress and he was pressed tightly between her legs. Meanwhile, Rhaenyra had helped her slide her shift off over her head, leaving her completely bare to her husband and wife.

Her back arched off of the bed as Daemon notched the head of his member against her entrance, easily slipping inside with a drawn out moan, eyes closed as he relished in the feeling of her silky walls throbbing around him.

“See how he desires you?” Rhaenyra whispered to her, “You make him weak, he belongs to you. We belong to you.”

She nodded, watching in awe as Rhaenyra’s slender neck was engulfed by their husband’s fingers, his meaty fist forcing her to meet his hard kiss as his spare hand slid beneath Y/n’s hip and flipped her onto her side, barely missing a beat as he threw her top leg over his shoulder and sped up his thrusts.

Rhaenyra grinned into the kiss, reaching up to slide her middle and index fingers into her wife’s mouth, slowly thrusting them in and out until they were dripping with her saliva. Carefully, she moved them down and began circling them around her untouched hole, feeling the snug ring of muscles tighten and release under her touch. The sloppy juices of her release had dripped down and provided an extra lubricant as one of her long fingers dipped inside, stilling for a few moments to allow her to adjust to the intrusion before she pressed the second in as well. Her movements were slow, not wanting to force the tightness of her ass and further than she already was, especially with the force of Daemon’s thrusts into sweet cunt.

Mere moments passed before her second release began bursting out of her core and splashing against Daemon’s stomach, the warmth of her juices bringing him to his own climax. She allowed him to keep forcing himself into her abused hole before she was pressing her foot flat into his shoulder to push him away.

“Look at her,” Rhaenyra murmured to him, smirking down at her wife’s trembling body, “Look at how needy she is for us. We belong to her, but she is ours alone.”

Daemons slowly allowed his cock to slide out of her, falling down to poke at her asshole as Rhaenyra pulled her fingers out. The future queen slid from the mattress, disappearing out of Y/n’s sight as Daemon huddled overtop of her, pressing warm kisses across her neck and chest. He pulled back as Rhaenyra reappeared next to her, wiping her hands clean with a wet cloth before she made quick work of wiping the pregnant woman’s sensitive cunt clean as Daemon readjusted his breeches as she moved across the room to sit by the burning fireplace.

Rhaenyra helped her wife move back up to lay against her pillows, tucking her in beneath the soft sheets. She crawled in next to her, pressing her lips to her forehead and chuckling when Rhaenyra felt her tugging at her skirts.

“I am alright, my heart,” She pushed her hands away, “You should rest. We will call for your supper.”

Y/n nodded, a touch disappointed that she hadn’t been able to taste her wife’s delicious cunt, but her sadness faded as she felt her eyes fluttering shut, lulling her into a deep sleep as she huddled closer to Rhaenyra’s chest.

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