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#so i'm not entirely sure they should count
writememysticfalls · 3 days
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Thirsty | Elijah Mikaelson
Summary: Elijah is cold and distant around you... until one night, you break down in front of him. Even Originals get thirsty.
Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x vampire!reader
Genre: Suggestive, angsty, hot
Word Count: <1k
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You were rummaging through the industrial freezer in the basement of the Mikaelson home.
You were elbow deep in ice chips, desperately searching for the only thing your body craved now you'd been turned into a vampire.
Blood.
"Where do they keep the fucking blood bags?" You kicked the freezer door so hard the metal crumpled under your boot.
"Need a hand?"
You spun around at the familiar voice.
Elijah was leaning against the door frame, watching you. He wore a pale cream shirt that was rolled up, exposing brown forearms.
Elijah always looked so put together, even when he had the blood of his enemies dripping down his chin, and congealed between his fingers.
Suddenly, you felt a hand grab your arm. Elijah yanked you back, using his full vampire force to turn you towards him.
You smoothed your unruly brown locks, feeling suddenly self conscious.
Elijah lifted up the lid of the freezer with one finger, peering inside.
"I'll have to make sure the maid restocks this more often."
He walked up to a portrait hanging on the wall. Pushing the frame to the side, he revealed a hidden safe. His fingers slid over the keys at vampire speed. The safe door clicked open and Elijah reached inside to pull out a heavy crystal bottle.
He poured a glass and handed it to you.
"Here, this should suffice."
You looked at the dark red liquid in the glass. The idea of drinking blood made you feel literally sick, but the gnawing at the base of your throat could only be eased by one thing. You knocked back the entire contents of the glass in one gulp.
"Thanks," you said, wiping your mouth.
Elijah gave you a tight smile.
"I've never seen you drink blood, Elijah. Hell, I've never even seen you eat." You crossed your arms. "Meanwhile I can't even go thirty minutes without thinking about where I'm going to get my next fix."
"You are a new vampire," Elijah said, sliding the portrait back in place. "Restraint takes time to master."
You tugged at your sallow cheeks. "I feel so... unnatural. I feel like my insides are rotting. It's all wrong. I'm all wrong!"
Elijah pressed his lips into a tight line.
You sank to your knees. You buried your head in your hands and started to sob.
"I should have died. What have I become?" you said, between sobs.
Elijah stood, awkwardly, watching you cry on the floor. His arms itched to hold you, but it no longer felt like his place to do so.
You wiped your tears with the back of your hand. Your eyes were glistening, and your nose was red. You stood up, face to face with Elijah.
"There was a time, once..." you said, sniffing. "That you would have held me, maybe even kissed me. Now you don't even talk to me, Elijah."
Your hard exterior had melted, leaving soft, brown skin and watery eyes. You suddenly looked so young.
Elijah sighed.
"Y/n, I..." but the words died on his lips. He moved forwards, silently, till he was inches away from you.
He leant his forehead against yours, eyes slipping shut. Your arms hung limply at your sides, fingers almost touching.
Suddenly, the sound of glass splattering echoed through the room. Both your and Elijah's heads shot up.
"Elijah!" Niklaus roared from upstairs. "The love of my life is at the bottom of this bottle, brother. Come and help me find her!"
Niklaus was drunk. Something which was becoming a daily occurrence.
You stepped away from Elijah.
"Go, run after your little brother like you always do," you snapped. The prickly expression had once again masked your beautiful features.
Elijah rolled down his shirtsleeves, and did up his cufflinks.
"Do not concern yourself with matters of my family," he said, sternly. "You should focus on your transition."
You scoffed. "You don't get to tell me what to do." You turned away and stormed towards the door.
You gasped. Elijah's eyes were red, and black veins pulsed under his eyes. He snarled.
You thought he was going to attack you. Your breath caught in your throat.
Suddenly, Elijah leant down and kissed you, hard, on the mouth.
Elijah wound one hand around your waist and pulled you to his chest as he continued to kiss you. You could hear his pulse racing in your ears, you could feel his eagerness for you against your thigh.
You kissed him back with equal force. This was an Elijah you didn't know well, the man behind the façade of elegance and nobility.
You reached up to stroke his soft hair. But suddenly, Elijah pulled away from you.
There was a soft woosh. Elijah was gone.
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I missed talking to you (modern!bodyguard!Criston Cole x Reader)
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synopsis: He was hired to protect you. However, he does so much more.
warnings: age gap, smut, p in v, fucking in the bathtub, semi public sex, afab reader
word count: 2.4k
taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bucknastysbabe
(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)
Dividers by me
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The room is dark, safe for the dim glow of a TV illuminating a small space around itself. The sound of the video that had been playing for the past couple hours is drowned out by growing frustration. The clock on your phone shows a more than ungodly time, that brings you to huff and turn around a little more forcefully than necessary, the bed protesting against the way you let yourself fall back on it carelessly. But to no surprise even that doesn't work and so, with a groan you force yourself to get up. The idea was that walking around and grabbing a snack could potentially help. Hopefully. And so you sneak out of the room to the kitchen, where you are met with Criston Cole, the bodyguard your father had hired for you.
“Shouldn't you be long asleep?” The tall man asks with a gruff voice.
He remembers you wishing him a good night, hours earlier. The clock showed past 4am now.
“Yeah, I should.” You chuckle bitterly. “I'm just gonna make some tea and then I'm gone again.”
Cole nods silently and continues to drink his coffee. His beautiful dark eyes are trained on your neck the entire time you wait for the kettle to cook the water inside. You can feel them like a warm sensation spreading through your back. You had long since stopped to wonder what might be going on behind the windows to his soul. Deciding that, whatever it may be, would forever remain a mystery to you. At times your friends had commented though that it looked like he wanted to eat you or that he looked ready jump in front of a bullet for you. The latter was easy to ignore. He was your bodyguard after all. The first was less so.
Your train of thought is broken up by the kettle whistling. Carefully you put it in a cup along with the tea. The cup gently warming your hands. It's comforting.
You turn to Cole once more and not again. “Good night.”
“Good night.” Is his quiet answer, accompanied by another short nod.
And with that you are off to bed.
Multiple days pass idly by without any further happenings, when your friends words get to you. He looks like he wants to eat you. No matter how much you try to lie to yourself, the thought itself, without being thought into much, is a rather exciting one. So, one evening while you relax in the bathtub, you work up the nerves to test that theory.
“Criston, could you come in here for a moment?” You call through the door in the loveliest voice you can muster.
“Yes, miss? Do you need anything?” His voice comes through a crack in the door immediately.
“Don't be shy. Come in. And how often have I told you not to call me miss?” The amused lilt in your voice is clearly noticeable.
“O-of course...” Even though you are entirely covered with foam his eyes stay focused on the ground before the tub. “What is it you may need?”
“It's not nice to not look at the person you are talking to, you know?” You put on a small pout. Though it comes as a surprise when he looks at you, the tan skin of his cheeks erupting in a dark cherry colour.
“My apologies, mi… My apologies.” He mumbles hastily, expectantly awaiting your answer to his earlier question.
“Criston, I’m bored.” You make a show if yawning and stretching your arms over your head. “Can you join me? Please?”
The plea is met with him choking on his own spit. Coughing violently, tears shooting into his eyes as he does so. “I think that would be most inappropriate. In fact, I´m not even sure if I should be in here right now.”
"Awww, come on? My father is not gonna find out and I could really use some company in here." Propping your chin up on one arm on the edge of the tub, you dunk your other hand just below the surface, pulling it out to flick the little droplets in the direction of his chest.
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You see the resolve in his eyes, but it is slowly wearing thin. Not that it looked particularly strong to begin with. A bit of fluttering with your lashes and he is basically gone, looking like he is ready to pounce on you as the two of you hastily remove his clothes and settle in the tub together. Exchanging heated kisses as he lifts you into his lap, tongues exploring each other’s mouths as your hands commit every inch of the other´s body to memory. The loud moan as he enters you is muffled by one of his rough hands over your mouth, trying desperately to keep anyone from hearing what the two of you are doing. The water and foam slosh against the porcelain, yet the only thing able to swallow both of your moans is the bruising, breath stealing kiss that dogs up your mind like the hot water does the room. Your hands travel over his chest restlessly, eliciting a new deep groan every time your fingers brush against the sensitive peaks. At the same time Criston’s rough hands massage your lower cheeks, lightly spreading them as he guides you up and down on his hard length. All the while your wet chests rub against each other, a sheen of sweat covering your bodies from the heat in the bathroom and your exertion.
Your moans and groans echo through the room and bounce off the tiles, but the longer you go on, the less either of you can bring yourselves to care about being caught. As the knot in your stomach draws tighter, your hands go up into Criston's dark hair to pull his head back. Resting your forehead against his, your noses touching, yet neither of you moves in to close the kiss again. Rather just remaining like this as the movement of your hips grows more frenzied from enjoyment, breathing into each other with loose hanging jaws. The dizziness resulting from it seems to only add to your sensitivity. Criston's strong arms bring you down harder and faster on his lap, eliciting even louder sounds from your lungs and pulling tears of pleasure from your eyes. The salty droplets rolling over your cheeks before joining the water that encompasses the two of you. His body begins to shake uncontrollably and before you can ready yourself, the waves of an orgasm crash over him. Despite the tremors, Criston keeps thrusting into you until you join him in the throes of his ecstasy. Fucking you through the climax until your legs still. Only then he unceremoniously lifts you off him and sits you down in the tub and dries himself off, getting dressed to stand in front of the door to take up his duty once more. Your eyes follow his every move all the while, beginning to shiver as the now cold water seeps into the still warm skin. Neither of you dares to utter a word. Silently vowing secrecy as to what had just happened. A promise Criston keeps a little too well as he only speaks to you when entirely necessary from that moment on.
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The party was boring you already. Your father had wandered off to network as soon as you had arrived about a half hour ago which had stretched to eternity. Sitting at the bar you nursed a glass of wine, staring holes into the fabric of space and time as you hoped it would be over soon. And while you were lucky enough to not be bothered by any of your fathers’ coworkers, the holes Criston Cole's dark eyes burned into you didn't go quite as unnoticed as he probably would have hoped. The warm sensation has become a sort of normality ever since your moment in the bath. Spreading out from the pit of your stomach, as the brown eyes roamed over your body in the fancy dress that you couldn't wait to get out of as soon as you came home. Downing the red contents of the glass, you stand up and wander off through the long corridors, knowing that the dark-haired man would follow.
Your mind is set on clearing up his avoidant behaviour. Once you are far away enough for the sounds of the party to have fainted to a quiet buzz in the back of your ears, you finally turn to the man that followed you like a shadow.
“Do you plan on never talking to me ever again?” You ask him with crossed arms and a huff falling from your lungs.
Frustration is etched onto both of your faces and filling the air around. “I´m sorry. I wasn´t aware my job required to also be your friend.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. If you regret fucking me so much, why didn't you just resign and safe everyone this stupid farce?” You argue back.
Promptly you feel the cold wall press against your front in an opposite sensation to his warm hand quieting you with a hand over your mouth once more, bringing back memories of your shared moment in the bathtub.
“Shhh or do you want anyone finding out?” He hisses into your ear, yet further down you can feel something hard press against your lower back. Pushing back against it elicits a low groan from the dark-haired man. A deep, throaty growl follows directly after as he finds the back of your neck and shoulders. Kissing and biting along your skin, his free hand tightly grabs your hair to pull it out of the way.
"Are you going to behave if I let go of your mouth, hm?" Criston's voice is barely above a husky whisper against the shell of your ear.
"Yes, I promise. I just need you so bad" you are just as desperate as he is.
In this state he could have asked almost anything of you and once his hand is removed from your mouth you would have agreed to it in an instant.
"Good girl... I'll make it good for you, but you have to be quiet. Can you do that?"
You can only answer in a hurried nod.
“Good.” Criston whispers.
The hand that was previously clamped over your mouth finds its way down your body and bunches up the fabric of your skirt until his fingertips brush against the lace of your panties.
“You knew this would happen, didn't you? Such a dirty girl.” he rasps, grinding his hips against you a bit harder. “Someone should punish you.”
“Please, punish me.” your voice shudders along with your breath.
When you turn your head to look at him your eyebrows are pulled down and drawn together in a pleading tone.
At the promise of a punishment your heart can't help but beat faster. Your lower lip immediately fits between your teeth, biting down hard to suppress the moan trying to escape as his palm makes harsh contact with your ass.
“Better be quiet. Otherwise, someone might find out what a dirty girl little miss perfect really is.” Criston taunts you.
The next slap is delivered even harsher, causing you to bite down on your lip until a very faint coppery taste introduces itself to your tongue. The hand rubs over the reddened flesh, soothing the stinging pain while Criston’s other hand snakes its way into your panties.
In response you press your behind closer to his front, feeling him groan in your ear as the movement of his hips speeds up. Instinctively you begin to rub against his fingers circling your clit. Whining from the stimulation. Stuttered breaths stumble from your lips as you desperately try to keep quiet. Only for your heart to be sent into overdrive as Criston lets go of your rear to turn your head and crash your lips together. Your hands claw at the wall, trying to find some purchase as your body gets rocked back and forth with every thrust against your backside. All the while thick digits enter your heat, curling upwards to play with your sweet spot immediately. The palm of Criston’s hand still rubs at your sensitive clit, making you see stars through half closed eyes, quiet moans get barely stifled by the hungry crashing and lapping of joined lips. Easily to be heard by anyone who would pass by you by chance, and they only grow more frantic. The air gets pushed out of your lungs entirely as you get trapped in tighter between the cold hard wall and the warm, tall body behind you, pushing you against it more. A wet tongue darts out to lick over the shell of your ear.
Criston begins to tremble with ecstasy first. A wet spot growing on the fabric separating your back from his front. Breathy groans fan hot over the side of your face and teeth nip at your earlobe. All of a sudden you freeze in bliss. Eyes rolled back and pressed tightly together, lips parted loosely in a silent scream all come together to a mask of unmistakable and unmatched pleasure. It feels as if your heart stops right along with your breath as waves of energy pulse through you, pumping the blood exceptionally fast through your veins to heighten your sensitivity as your whole body shakes and trembles in the little space between the wall and Criston's tall frame.
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“I didn't regret what happened.” He whispers into the quiet, pulling your eyes from fixing your dress with a start.
“What?” The question is the only thing that comes to mind in the moment.
“I didn't regret it.” Criston repeats a little louder. “I just needed some time to process it.”
“Have you processed it now?” Even though you feel stupid for asking, the question is out before you can hold it back. “Because I would like to do it again if you are up to it.”
The dark-haired man nods. “I would like that too.”
“Good.” You smile at him, your eyes softening as they meet his. Together the two of you make your way back to the event, hoping your absence hasn't been too noticeable.
“I kinda missed talking to you.” You admit to Criston, the words barely above a whisper over your shoulder. A last quiet moment between the two of you, to make the rest of the night more bearable.
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clotpolesonly · 9 months
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Crackship from ffnet that has never left my mind: Snape/Teletubbies
NOW THAT'S THE SPIRIT!!!
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nyxofdemons · 1 year
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this was going to be like a mile long essay but i just realized the most concise way to say it is that "it feels like a retcon that blitz has been so resentful and hostile towards fizz all this time since he was supposed to feel guilty" is simply not a good criticism when we have been shown, time and time again, that blitz's number one defense mechanism when he feels guilty or judged or attacked is to lash out, to deflect and ignore all his responsibility, and to shift the blame to someone else. that's like. his defining character flaw
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r0semultiverse · 1 year
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Adventure Time: Fionna and Cake finale spoilers without context
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genpact-kinfessions · 6 months
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"Ask games may be started shortly" and then I forgor. Sorry 'bout that guys ^^"
Anyways, anyone up for that soon? I have ideas written down but suggestions are always open as well. /lh
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lloydfrontera · 2 years
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Spoilers for Chapter 135
"After all, nothing in the world is free, right?" "…" "What. Why. What. Do you think I'm being selfish?" "That's not it. But-" "But?" "Suddenly, I thought that it was fortunate that Master Lloyd was born here." "Ok? What do you mean?" "If he had been born in the royal capital, I think he would have become a very shameless politician." "…" "Or a scoundrel who practices flattery." "…" "If not that, he might have become a strange con artist who hung out around shady alleys." "Hey, do I really look like that?" "Yes" "Like normally?" "Yes" "God, you don't even hesitate for one second" "I'm just being honest" Habiel, that'd been speaking up to that point, stopped smiling. And he added something Lloyd hadn't thought of. "I'm glad you put that trickery to good use. Thank you." "…" "Why are you making that face?" "Uh, just trying to decide if that's an insult or a compliment." "Of course it's an insult." "Yeah, somehow it seemed like." "Aren't you angry?" "Oh. I think you missed the timing. Don't worry about it." "It was actually a compliment." "I don't believe you" "Is that so?" "What, think I will cry about it later?" "Please don't cry, it gives me the creeps." "Yeah, that's what I thought."
-The Greatest Estate Developer Chapter 135
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applebunch · 2 years
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still baffled by this. michael............. why wouldn't she know that her older brother liked beets? why wouldn't she know that? she's known him her entire life. why didn't YOU know that? you've been his best friend for 12 years, and you've lived with him for half a year. surely, you should've long since noticed the high beet count.
#i yell into the abyss#greater boston#grater bluecheese#*leon stamatis the entire time michael lived at his house voice* beetroot? you want fucking beetroot?#*michael tate voice* huh? what was the first and last word that came out of your mouth?#how do you only notice the unusual amount of beets leon was welcoming into your life only AFTER he dies and you read his meal planner#shouldn't you have noticed it when he was. like. feeding you them? bi-weekly? for half a year?#when he was buying them from the store? when he put them on your plate? when you ate them with your mouth??????#“man. this is a lot of beets” <- what michael SHOULD have said TWO MONTHS after he moved into leon's apartment#and leon puts BEETS on his PLATE aGAIN#anyway: huh? beets twice a week is not that weird. that's like fine and normal.#it's funny to pretend it's not but like............. it's important to eat your veggies regularly. and there are so many to choose from#so you pick a handful of veggies that you like and buy those regularly rather than having like 20 different kinds a month#leon just picked beets for one of them. i'm sure he had a perfectly reasonable and measured assortment of vegetables otherwise.#it is not a lot of beets. it is a mediocre amount of beets.#the beet count is moderate. most people eat less beets on a regular basis‚ sure‚ but for people who have it as a regular part of their diet#it's like.#normal.#come on.#michael tate#*michael tate voice* wait so you're telling me those were BEETS? huh. thought they were like. radishes or something.#normal to have THOSE twice a week#beets though? nonononono. very unusual. notable‚ even.#*nica stamatis voice* i agree. beets are weird. leon's weird.
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talkorsomething · 3 months
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I get to spin in the parade for realsies btw 🥰 only had one (1) minor breakdown at practice !
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reyalvr · 3 months
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SHE'S MINE | 01
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I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan
word count ┊  3.2k
author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!
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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…
But it wasn’t. 
He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 
You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 
“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 
Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 
“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 
Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.
“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 
You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 
“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 
Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 
“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”
Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 
“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 
Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.
“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”
“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 
You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 
You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”
He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 
Shit. Strike two. 
You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”
Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 
“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 
He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 
“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 
“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 
“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.
Strike three. 
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THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 
Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 
He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 
“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 
“No.” You replied bluntly.
“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 
“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”
You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 
“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 
And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 
It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 
It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.
“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 
“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”
At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 
“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 
“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 
For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.
You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 
“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 
“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 
He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”
“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 
“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”
“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 
“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 
“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 
He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.
“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 
He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 
“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”
“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 
“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 
He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 
“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”
He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.
“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 
He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 
“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 
Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 
Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 
You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 
He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 
Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 
“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 
“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 
Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 
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reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
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bro-atz · 4 months
Text
the better man
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in which: your roommate and your college friend both have feelings for you.
pair: college student!san/college student!afab!reader/college student!mingyu
word count: 14.8k
content: slight angst, a lot of drama, nicknames (cutie, baby), slow burn at the beginning, smut (obvi), jealousy, competition, cat vs dog, three different smut scenes omg, slightly drunk make out sessions, oral sex, (filthy as fuck) threesome, double penetration, safe sex, completely consensual!
rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact
author's note: thank you @k-hotchoisan for helping me with the development of this entire fic! ilysm <3 also ik this fic is long as fuck but i couldn't help myself... two of my ults in the same fic? you bet your ass i'm going to make a whole kdrama! so grab your popcorn, sit back, and enjoy this insane ride (with the slowest burn of all time)
another world masterlist
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YOU have had so many people tell you that you should never live with your friends because it'll ruin the friendship, but you and your best friend moving in together was honestly one of the best decisions you had ever made in your entire life.
San was the perfect roommate for you. The two of you balanced each other out well, and he was always super protective of you, which was nice because if you were ever in a situation where you needed rescuing, San was right there. The greatest part was that he didn't have feelings for you.
What you didn't know was that San had some feelings for you, but he chose to ignore them.
And one of the greatest things about San was that he always stayed up late if you were out with friends. He always made sure you came home safe. After all, roommates are supposed to be there for each other, right?
"Sannie, I'm home!" your voice echoed through the apartment. After hearing the words leave your mouth, you giggled, then said out loud, "Sannie sounds like honey..."
San, who was sitting at the kitchen countertop, looked up from his laptop, then looked at the time blinking on the stove clock. Two in the morning wasn't bad at all considering how drunk you were. San got up from the barstool and made his way over to you, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched, with slight amusement, you struggle to take your strappy heels off.
"Someone had a good night," he commented, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
You went to look up at him, but you lost your balance and nearly fell over. Luckily, your roommate was there to catch you and help you keep your balance while you took off the other heel with a huge sigh of relief— your heels were killing you.
"I had a great night," you corrected him while stumbling through the threshold and into the living room. "Our club meeting was boring as hell, so I suggested we go to a bar and get a couple of drinks... One thing led to another, and I totally won at darts!"
"Really? You didn't take someone's eye out?" San couldn't help but snort 
"You underestimate me, my dear friend."
You flopped into the smack-dab-middle of the sofa, San following you shortly thereafter into the living room. He at first remained standing, only to sit when you patted the empty space next to you. You hummed softly as you brought your limbs back together and rested your head on your roommate's insanely broad shoulders while he wrapped his arm over your shoulders. It was almost second nature at that point; San was so used to you being an affectionate drunk that he automatically prepared himself for you to cuddle into him.
"You're definitely going to have a hangover tomorrow," San said softly as he rested his hand on your forehead.
"Of course I will... But you'll be here to take care of me, so I'll be fine," you murmured while closing your eyes.
San couldn't help but smile. He rested his head on top of yours and listened to the sound of your peaceful breathing, thinking you were asleep. However, you were just resting your eyes, because seconds later, you were moving your head from his shoulder. You stared blankly at your roommate, your eyes running over all of his features. San looked at you with mild concern the longer you stared.
"What? Do you need to throw up?" he asked.
"No, that's not..." you trailed off.
You lowered your gaze and noticed a stray piece of lint on his chest. You picked the lint off then smoothed out his shirt, your hand brushing along his defined chest a couple times. Mindlessly, you rested your hand on his chest. Your hands were a little too numb from the alcohol swarming your system, so you (luckily) couldn't feel San's heart rate elevating.
"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" you asked as you began to draw lazy patterns along his chest.
"Every time you drink," San responded with a slightly annoyed sigh; he didn't like when you called him pretty. He didn't need a more masculine term or anything, but there was something about the word that icked him out.
"You're so much cuter up close... Like a cuddly bear... Or a Maine Coon..."
"A Maine Coon?"
"You're like a kitty cat, but you're so big... So you're a Maine Coon... You're my Maine Coon."
San's heart completely skipped a beat when you said he was yours. He was used to you saying things like that when you were sober, but this drunk version of those words were a little different this time around. The way you were looking at him, the softness in your voice— it brought the feelings he had buried for you right up to the surface.
"You definitely need to get some sleep," San chuckled awkwardly, trying to deflect whatever the hell was going on between the two of you.
"I know, I should... But I want to stay like this a little bit longer," you admitted while resting your head on his shoulder once again. "You're so soft and warm... Like a big cat."
"Really? I had no idea. It's like you didn't just say that," he replied sarcastically, making you look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.
"Don't make fun of me, Sannie."
"Okay, I'll stop. But seriously, I think you should go to bed now."
"Not yet. I still wanna cuddle."
Slumping his head in defeat, San let you settle into him a little more. With his free hand, he instinctively brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, his fingers lingering on the edge of your ear for a second too long. Subtly, he moved his hand away and rested it on the curve of your waist— horrible idea on his part— his fingers grazing the slightly exposed skin from your shirt riding up a little too much.
Every single movement from him made you feel even hotter than before. Your fingers and toes tingled, although you couldn't tell if it was him or the alcohol, but something definitely stirred within you. Your heart thrummed against your chest as the confidence from the alcohol started to speak for you.
"San," you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze.
"Yeah," he responded in the same register.
"Don't hate me for this, okay?"
San didn't even have time to question you. You brushed your lips against his with a feather light touch, your eyes fluttering open as you looked into his eyes. They were wide with shock, but they were also sparkly and beautiful. So you closed your eyes again and pressed your lips against his again and again and again, each kiss getting more intense than the last one.
San's mind went blank. His body moved on instinct. He pulled you closer and tangled his fingers in your hair as he deepened the kiss, the two of you holding onto each other for dear life because the world was spinning too fast.
You parted, breathless and slightly dizzy, but you felt great, nay, wonderful. Honestly, you were addicted, and there was nothing else you wanted to do that night but kiss San.
So you did. All night.
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YOU woke up the next morning groggily and feeling like the world would explode if you did so much as breathe. Your head was throbbing— thank you, hangover— and regret filled every single cell of your body because that morning, you woke up to see San sleeping in bed with you.
Nothing happened the night before. Well, other than the kissing, nothing happened, and you knew that nothing happened because for one thing, you and San were still fully clothed, and you also started sobering up while you were kissing San that night and remembered everything. You remembered the way he held your waist, the way his fingers slid up your top, the feeling you got when he stopped kissing your lips and moved to your neck, the way he made you feel so...
So wanted. So sexy.
You sat up and held your pounding head, the arm San had resting on your waist slipping out of place, making him grunt slightly. His face, so relaxed and serene before, changed when he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned slightly. His eyes fluttered open, and you immediately averted your eyes while trying to figure out how you were going to play the situation because the events of the night before were definitely going to ruin your friendship with him, and you wanted anything but that.
So you decided to play dumb.
"Morning," San's low, groggy morning voice sent tingles down your spine.
"M-Morning," you squeaked out despite clearing your throat before talking and playing the blackout card. "Uh, what are you doing here?"
"I think you invited me," he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbow. "Well, you dragged me in here, actually."
"O-Oh... I... I don't remember..."
"I figured as much."
Huh?
"You were pretty drunk and giddy... Shit, maybe I shouldn't have kissed you," San's face paled slightly when he realized the gravity of his actions.
"W-We kissed?" you badly wanted to reassure him that the kiss was consensual, that you didn't regret kissing him— because he was an amazing kisser and you regretted ruining your friendship more than anything— but you still had to play fucking stupid.
"We made out... A lot."
"San, I'm so sorry," you spoke carefully to validate his actions. "I was really drunk, and you know how I get affectionate when I'm drunk, so don't feel bad. Also, I don't feel violated, so you're okay."
"You sure? Because I definitely fucked up—"
"It's okay. I promise."
You hoped that your definitive statement would be enough for him to take and run with, and after a moment of silent contemplation, San nodded his head. He sat up and kept his head bowed, and your heart stung a little. It was like watching a guilty cat, so you couldn't help but pet his head like he was a fucking cat.
"W-What're you doing?" San asked, the man lifting his head to reveal the pink blush that had spread across his face.
"I guess I'm petting you," you couldn't help but laugh. "There, there."
"Please tell me you remember some of last night."
"W-What do you mean?"
"You called me a Maine Coon."
It took everything in you to not burst out laughing because you totally remembered saying that— and you stood by your word.
"I kinda remember saying that..." you admitted slowly.
You were able to laugh when San chuckled, the tension leaving your chest. You were so relieved that San was acting like his normal self, that he didn't seem bothered by the fact that you didn't remember the night before.
San was extremely bothered. He wished you remembered because, goddammit, last night was so fucking amazing, and he wished he could take your relationship a little further.
"I'm gonna go make breakfast," San announced as he got off the bed, leaving your hand midair because you were still petting him. "Do you want any?"
"No. I think I'm going to sleep until my head stops hurting, but thanks," you faked a yawn.
"Alright. Get some rest."
With that, San closed the door. You laid back down in bed and covered yourself with the duvet, guilt gnawing at you like anything. You had to lie to your roommate just to preserve your fucking friendship. You sighed deeply and sadly as you stared at the ceiling.
You ended up turning in your bed to go back to bed because you really did want to sleep the headache off. Your eyes landed on the empty space next to you then trailed over to the pillow San was sleeping on. Tentatively, you brought the pillow to your chest and buried your face in it, taking in San's natural scent.
You instantly regretted it. He smelled amazing. So amazing, in fact, that your entire body reacted to it.
"Shit," you whispered to yourself as you felt your arousal pool in your panties.
You shouldn't have done it, but you reached down in between your legs, and while you let San's scent surround you, you pleasured yourself.
No wonder people said to not live with your friends.
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YOU didn't mean to avoid San for several days after the incident. You just got really busy with club activities. You were on the e-board, and since festival season was coming up, you had your hands full with a lot of the planning— literally.
"Shit, shit, shit," you cursed as the pile of flyers in your hands started to waver out of place.
And, of course, all the flyers flew from your hands, the papers scattered on the ground in the hallway. You uttered several profanities under your breath as you started to collect all the flyers.
"Hey— Woah, what happened here?" a familiar voice rang out behind you.
You turned around and sighed loudly, conveying your annoyance to your tall friend.
"Mingyu, help me out with these, will you?" you asked him.
Nodding, he crouched down and began helping you pick up the flyers. After you got all of them, you ended up forcing him (technically, he would've helped you regardless) to help you carry them to the club room.
"I would ask you how you dropped everything in the first place, but I get it because I've done it before," Mingyu chuckled and attempted to fill the silence between the two of you with some sort of conversation.
"I just don't understand why we can't have our own printer in our club room," you grumbled.
"At least with the print center, they'll fold the brochures, staple packets, and turn the pages into a bound booklet for us."
"...Okay fine. Then I wish our club room was closer to the print center. I still don't get why our room is at the far end of the floor."
"At least we're on the same floor—"
"Okay! I get it! Stop justifying everything and let me complain!" you cut him off before he could explain the other side.
Mingyu laughed loudly and kept his lips zipped until you got to the club room. Hopping up on the table, he watched you organize the flyers on the table— he would've helped, but the organizing was definitely more of a one person job.
"Hey, I have a question for you," he started.
You hummed in response while keeping busy with your task.
"Are you okay?"
"What do you mean? Of course I am."
"No, like, you seem a little off lately."
"What are you talking about, Gyu?"
"Did something happen at home? Between you and your roommate? Because I haven't heard you talk about him for a while."
You froze. You didn't want to freeze because you didn't want Mingyu to know shit about anything between you and San and especially because you didn't want anyone knowing what happened between you and San.
"I'm right, aren't I?" Mingyu leaned towards you. "Talk to me about it."
"Everything is fine," you said after clearing your throat and resuming your organizing task.
"Yeah, right," Mingyu said sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "I thought we were friends and that you could share any of your problems with me, but I guess you don't see me as a friend..."
You knew Mingyu was intentionally trying to guilt trip you and get you to spill on the events that happened several nights before, but you weren't going to fall for his tricks. Not at all.
"Buddy," you grabbed Mingyu's cheeks with one hand. "You are my friend, but I'm not telling you shit because nothing happened. Got it?"
"Then why are you acting all suspicious? You're totally hiding something," Mingyu mumbled through his lips since you were still squeezing his cheeks.
Letting go of his cheeks, you exhaled deeply, planted both palms of your hands on the table and looked him dead in the eyes before lying your ass off. "Look, I got really drunk one night, and I said some things to him that I shouldn't have said. He said it's fine, but I still feel bad. Okay?"
"Damn, okay, you don't have to be so aggressive about it," Mingyu finally backed off.
"Sorry, but it's just been... It's been bothering me."
Everything that happened with San really was bothering the shit out of you— you kept thinking about San in very sexual manners before going to bed every single fucking night, but there was no way in hell you were going to tell anyone that you wanted to fuck your roommate.
"You should talk about it with someone. You know I'm always here to listen," he said softly while placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"Thanks, Mingyu. I appreciate it."
Finally, he let the topic go, and you got back to finishing your organization project. After everything was set in place, you and Mingyu ended up leaving the club room together. The entire walk down the long hallway and to the elevators as well as the elevator ride to the building lobby consisted of Mingyu teasing you and making you laugh, your worries about San melting away.
When you exited the building, you nearly tripped over your own two feet, Mingyu catching you.
"You're clumsy as fuck, aren't you? First the flyers, now this," Mingyu teased as he got you back to your feet.
"Shut up, I'm just tired."
Still, to make sure you weren't going to fall again, Mingyu had his arm over your shoulder. Even after you reached the last stair, he still had his arm around you.
The sun was setting by the time you left the building that day, so when you looked ahead and saw a figure before you, the figure looked absolutely stunning and breathtaking surrounded by the orange and red hues of the setting sun. It wasn't until you got closer to the figure did you realize who it was.
"San—" you were about to ask him what he was doing there, but you forgot that he always walked you home from campus that day because he had a class around the same time as your club meeting. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Not really," he shook his head.
You watched him open his mouth to say something, only to stop.
Why was that guy's arm over your shoulder?
"Oh, Mingyu, this is my roommate, San. San, this is Mingyu. He's the treasurer," you introduced the two to each other, suddenly realizing that this is the first time they're meeting each other.
"Nice to finally meet you," Mingyu dropped his hand from your shoulder and held it out for San to shake.
Finally?
"Nice to meet you, too," San suppressed the urge to furrow his eyebrows in confusion and instead plastered a picturesque smile onto his face.
"Alright, well, thanks for the help, Gyu," you waved to him as you left his side and walked towards San. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye," Mingyu waved back. "Get home safe, you two!"
When you got to San's side, you felt him wrap his arm around your shoulder. He did that all the time, but this time around, you felt electricity jolt through your body. The last time you touched him was when you were incredibly drunk, and the touch you had been craving every single night since then was finally there, nearly sending you spiraling.
"Hey, I have a question for you," San snapped you out of your thoughts.
"Huh?"
"What did he mean when he said finally?"
"Oh, that." You felt yourself return to normal when you explained, "I talk about you all the time to the other club members."
"What?" San was a little taken aback. "What do you tell them?"
"I mean just like normal roommate things like us watching movies, or you making food for me or the other way around. Normal roommate things."
San nodded, accepting your explanation. To keep the horny thoughts away, you continued rambling about the members of the club to San on your way home, his arm eventually slipping from your shoulder. And you continued talking to him normally when you got home. He didn't bring up the fact that it had been a while since you talked, and you didn't point it out either, so everything was falling back into place.
Normalcy. Finally.
Or so you thought. You couldn't stop thinking about the way San had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you spent another night regretting your sinful thoughts over your roommate.
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SAN didn't like Mingyu from the moment he met him. He had no reason to not like him, but there was something about the way he was with you that rubbed San the wrong way. Maybe it was because Mingyu had his arm around you so familiarly and because you never ever told him about Mingyu until the night San met him.
He also didn't like how much time you were spending with Mingyu. He knew that you had club activities, that you were preparing for the festival and that you and Mingyu would be working together a lot, but he still hated it. It wasn't like San was your boyfriend or anything, so it shouldn't have bothered him how close you were getting with Mingyu. But Mingyu would carry you home after you had one too many drinks, and seeing the way Mingyu would touch you so familiarly made his blood boil just a tiny bit.
He especially hated it because everything had changed between the two of you after the night you got drunk and kissed him. He felt like it was his fault, that he shouldn't have kissed you when you were drunk even though you reassured him that it was okay and that you didn't remember. There shouldn't have been a reason for you to be avoiding him, but that's just how it felt for him lately.
One night, Mingyu brought you home again after you went drinking with the club, irritating San slightly. You stumbled into the apartment, leaving San with the taller man at the entrance to your apartment.
"Thanks for dropping her off," San said politely but curtly, trying to get Mingyu to leave.
"Oh, will we see you at the festival tomorrow?" Mingyu asked.
"Yeah."
Honestly, San wanted to be petty and say that he might not be able to, but he didn't want to risk you overhearing and telling him that he must come and tell Mingyu that he would definitely be there. At least with a simple 'yeah', San could get out of it if he really wanted to.
"Cool. See you later, then," Mingyu said with a smile before waving and leaving.
The fake smile on San's face dropped immediately the second the door closed. With a heavy sigh, he trudged over to the living room to see you lying on the couch face up, your arms outstretched for him.
"Sannie!" you giggled. "Come here."
San couldn't help but listen to you when you called him like that. He approached the couch but remained standing, making you frown. You sat up and pursed your lips, your cutesy act making San lose his goddamn mind.
"Are you mad at me?" you asked while sulking.
"No, I'm not," San replied and shook his head.
"Then gimme a hug!"
You knelt on the couch and hugged your roommate, San's arms delaying slightly when he hugged you back. You rubbed your face into his chest before letting out a happy sigh as you rested your head on his pillow of a chest.
"You're so comfy..." you murmured. "And you're so pretty... Have I ever told you how pretty you are?"
"Every time you drink," San rolled his eyes.
You leaned away from him— he was being short with you, and he knew that you knew that.
"Tell me what's wrong," you said as you cupped his cheek.
San grabbed your wrist lightly and moved your hand from his face. He would've entertained you a little more, but based on the developments of his relationship with you over the past couple of weeks, he was losing his patience rapidly.
"Nothing. You need to sleep," San replied.
"No, it's not nothing. Tell me."
San still refused to tell you anything. His patience completely wore out when you started chanting "tell me" over and over again to the point that he hoisted you over his shoulder, walked you to your room, dropped you on your bed, and turned off the lights before closing the door.
He wasn't going to make the mistake of indulging you while you were drunk out of your mind again.
Before he could get more than a few steps from your door, you opened it and stood in the threshold.
"San," you said, your voice wavering. "Why are you being mean to me?"
Well fuck. San never wanted to be the reason you fucking cried.
"I'm not— I'm sorry," San apologized sincerely to you.
Even though he apologized, tears started rolling down your face. San fully panicked and hugged you before you could start sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him and hugged him back when he leaned back and cupped your face to dry your tears with his thumbs.
"Don't cry," San said softly. "You just need to sleep."
"Then don't dump me on the bed next time," you said while frowning.
San's thumb got a little too close to your eye, making you unintentionally wink at him, but the way your rosy cheek lifted slightly when you closed your eye made San's heart thump harder in his chest. Something so simple was enough to make him yearn for you even though you were right there in his arms.
"Sannie," your soft voice rang in his ear. "Can I tell you something?"
"What?"
"I know I'm tipsy, but I know that I'm not drunk enough to do anything I'll regret."
"What are you talking about?"
"I remember that night. I just didn't want to say anything to you because... I was afraid of what me kissing you would do to our friendship."
San was completely taken aback. So you were avoiding him— not because of what he did, but because of what you did.
"...Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because I don't want you to hate me for doing this again."
You cupped his cheeks then brought his face to yours, your lips meeting his. San didn't know what to do at first— he did not want a repeat of what happened weeks ago, but he craved you so damn much that he needed you more than anything.
San wrapped his arms around you and carried you back into your room while still kissing you. He then laid you down on the bed— super gently this time— before laying right next to you, his lips meeting yours feverishly over and over again.
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YOU ran out of the apartment the next morning. Even though San was sleeping right by your side, and you should've talked things through with him, you were really fucking late— drinking the night before an important event was such a horrible idea. Since you couldn't talk about it just yet, you decided you would send him a text so that he would know that you wanted to.
Technically speaking, you and San did talk about it that night in between kisses, but it was more like surface level shit instead of figuring out what the relationship between the two of you was at that point and what it could look like in the future. And, just like the last time, you didn't have sex with him. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren't bummed.
"There you are! Took you long enough," Mingyu immediately started teasing you the second you ran up to your booth at the festival.
"Why didn't you cut me off while drinking last night?" you slapped his arm. "I'm hungover as fuck..."
"As long as you don't throw up on anyone, you'll be fine."
Immediately, you and your club members got to work setting everything up for your booth, your hangover quickly subsiding as your adrenaline pumped. You were so invested in the chaos of the festival that you didn't realize you completely forgot to text San.
Thankfully, you got some downtime when the president of the club told you to take a lunch break. You quickly left the booth and went off in search of a (different) food stall to grab your lunch from— your club was doing a food booth, and you wanted to eat anything but that.
"Hey, wait up!" you heard Mingyu holler from behind.
"You're on lunch break too?"
"Yep. Let's eat together," Mingyu said cheerfully as he grabbed your arm and whisked you into the crowd.
It was extremely crowded when you and Mingyu got to the food stalls, and you nearly lost sight of each other a couple times. So, Mingyu held your hand, and he waded through the crowd quickly. The two of you were able to get your food so quickly, in fact, that you had time to sit and eat comfortably and get to explore the rest of the festival before returning back to your booth.
"How's your hangover now?" Mingyu asked as the two of you sat on the grass to eat your food.
"Gone, but I think we were just so busy that I got over it," you admitted while laughing.
"Good, but I got you this just in case."
From his pocket, Mingyu produced a tiny container of painkillers, and he handed you the water bottle that he purchased along with his food.
"Oh, wow! Thank you!" you said happily as you accepted the items from him.
"Don't take it now— you need to eat something first."
"I know, Gyu, you don't need to lecture me."
"Just making sure."
You and Mingyu smiled at each other before digging into your lunches. You talked about God knows what, and as the conversation continued, Mingyu kept finding ways to make you laugh, your heart fluttering more and more with every joke he threw your way.
"Hey, can I try some of yours? You can try mine," Mingyu said after there was a tiny lull in the conversation.
"Oh, sure."
You were going to hand him your lunch so that he could try it himself, but instead he opened his mouth— he wanted you to feed him?
"Mingyu, just take my lunch," you said with a sigh.
"No. I want you to feed me," he refused.
"Really?"
"Come on, I got you painkillers and water. The least you could do is feed me."
"This feels like an extortion," you mumbled as you held out your fork.
Mingyu happily chomped down on the fork, the dumb smile on his face making you smile as well. While he chewed, he held out his food for you to take a bite, and you did. You did happily.
After finishing your food (and taking the God-sent painkillers), you and Mingyu still had some time to spare before you had to be back at your booth. The two of you walked alongside each other as you observed your peers booths, your hands brushing against each other every so often.
It wasn't until half way through your walk did Mingyu get frustrated with how frequently his hand brushed yours. He ended up wordlessly holding your hand as you continued through the festival. Thank God you can't feel someone's heartbeat while holding their hand, otherwise Mingyu definitely would've felt your heart racing.
"I have a question for you," Mingyu said softly.
"What is it?"
"What are you doing after the festival is over?"
Your heart nearly fell out of your chest when you realized that you completely forgot about San, that you completely forgot to text him. You bit your lower lip and responded, "Just going home..."
"Then, would it be alright if I asked you to hang out with me after the festival?"
Your mind was reeling. On one hand, you needed to talk to San about what happened, but on the other, you were having so much fun with Mingyu, and you wanted to continue the fun.
"I promise, I won't bite," Mingyu added, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Unless you want me to."
With a laugh, you shoved Mingyu away, the two of you continuing to laugh as you returned to your club's booth.
You didn't have time to think about anything after that. Your booth got insanely busy and it stayed at that level for hours— even after the sun completely set, your booth was packed with people. You were so busy, in fact, you didn't even realize your roommate was right in front of you until he grabbed your hand.
"Did you forget what I look like or something?" San asked jokingly.
"Oh my God, San! When did you get here?"
"I've been at the festival for a bit now. Do you have time to talk?"
Under the guise of a bathroom break, you and San went to an isolated end of the festival. You stood across from each other, the awkwardness heavy in the air. San was scratching the back of his neck while you crossed your arms over your chest— it was a chilly night, and you didn't have a jacket.
"You ran out this morning," San finally started.
"Yeah, sorry. I was running late, and then I wanted to text you, but our booth got super busy," you explained. "You saw what it was like in there."
"Yeah, I figured you'd be busy since you were busy this week planning. Nice work on the booth, by the way."
"Thanks, we worked hard."
"I know."
The conversation lulled. You didn't know how to bring up the events of the night before, and San didn't say anything either, so the awkwardness only got heavier. The wind ended up filling your conversation, and it also sent a shiver down your spine.
"Did you not bring a jacket?" San asked as he watched you shiver and rub your arm to warm up.
"No, I ran out that quickly," you said, your teeth chattering.
With a small smile on his face, San took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The warmth from his body clung to the jacket, and it ended up warming you up faster.
"Thanks, San, but won't you get cold?"
"I was planning on heading home after talking to you, anyway... I guess we didn't really talk, did we?" San realized sheepishly.
"Yeah... Not really..."
God, it was even hard for you to get the words out. Maybe you needed some liquid courage before you had the conversation with him.
 "We, uh... We can talk when you get home."
"Alright. Get home safe, San," you nodded.
The two of you waved goodbye before San left, leaving you to return to the festival. After wearing San's jacket properly, you took a couple steps forward, only to see Mingyu standing before you.
"That was a pretty long bathroom break, don't you think?" he joked.
"Yeah, sorry. How long has it been?"
"Not that long. I was just messing with you."
"Gyu!" you let out a relieved laugh— you needed that after the tension between you and San earlier. "Cut it out. Let's get back to the booth."
You and Mingyu returned to the booth, and your club wrapped up business shortly thereafter. The booth breakdown and cleaning took a lot less time than anyone expected, so as soon as everyone was done, the entire club announced that you all would be going drinking. Before you could decline the invitation, you were whisked away to the local bar near campus.
Yet again, you forgot to text San. You wanted to tell him that you'd be home late, but every time you pulled out your phone to text him, someone distracted you. Everyone was trying to get you to drink heavily, but you only needed a light buzz to help you start this conversation with San, and if you were over the top drunk, there was no way in hell you were going to be able to have a sane conversation with him.
"Hey," Mingyu prodded your arm as he saw you chewing on your lower lip nervously. "You're not drinking as much as you normally do. Is everything okay? Is it the hangover?"
"N-No— well, maybe... I just don't want to drink too much tonight is all," you admitted to him.
"Wow, if only you were this responsible all the time, then we wouldn't have to worry about an insanely drunk version of you."
"Shut up!" 
You pushed Mingyu away while laughing, the man barely budging. If anything, he leaned in even closer to you and whispered in your ear, "I honestly want to get out of here. Come with me if you want to leave, too."
With that, Mingyu stood up. He turned back to look at you for a split second and held his hand for you to take, which you did. You both bid adieu to the rest of your drunken friends before leaving the bar.
As you walked into the night, Mingyu leaned closer to you and reminded you gently, "You still never told me your answer."
"To what?"
"Come hang out with me tonight. I promise I'll make it worth your time."
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YOU couldn't help but notice that Mingyu had a really nice place. You were honestly a little shocked at how refined his taste was, only for him to tell you that the place came fully furnished. Even then, he was joking around with you, making you feel comfortable and welcome in his home.
You ended up sitting on his couch while he rustled through the kitchen. Wielding two glasses of water, Mingyu joined you on the couch. You took one of the glasses from him and nursed your water while Mingyu let out a groan of exhaustion, his head hitting the sofa cushion behind him.
"Thank God we're finally done," he said loudly. "That festival took everything out of me."
"Same," you agreed. "I never want to do this again!"
"You know we have to do this again next year, right?"
"Fuck!"
Mingyu laughed loudly, and his laugh was so contagious that you couldn't help but laugh as well. You set the water glass down and got a little more comfortable on his couch while turning to face him.
"You looked really cute in the apron, by the way," he commented.
"What, that old thing? Really?"
"Honestly, you could make anything cute since you yourself are very cute."
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. You looked away shyly— even though his lines were so cheesy, you still loved the compliments, especially from him.
"I don't think you've ever called me cute before, Mingyu," you tried joking around with him. "What's gotten into you for you to say that so openly?"
"Hmm, it could be the alcohol, but I only had one beer..." he pondered. "I think I just wanted you to know. I don't think you hear it enough."
"Shut up," you giggled. "I hear it plenty."
"Are you sure? Because you're acting like you're hearing it for the first time," he teased.
"Yes, I'm sure."
"...Still, I want you to hear it. You're really cute."
"Stop it, Mingyu," you laughed.
"No, I need you to know that I think you're really cute."
Mingyu's fingers— you didn't even realize his hand was on your thigh— started rubbing light circles through the fabric of your pants. Your entire body flushed with excitement and desire. You started leaning towards him.
"I'm literally wearing leggings and the world's rattiest shirt because I didn't want to ruin any of my nice shirts."
"I told you, you can make anything cute because you're so cute."
"Yeah? You think I'm cute?"
"Yeah, I think you're super cute."
Mingyu moved his hand from your thigh to your ear, his fingers brushing your hair away before he ran his thumb along the ridge of your ear. Your ear felt like it was on fire when he did that, and heat surged through your body when you realized he was leaning in to kiss you. You met his kiss, your lips pressing against each other softly.
You couldn't help but giggle when he left another gentle peck on your lips because he was being so gentle, so careful with you.
"God, you're so cute," Mingyu breathed out when he heard you giggle.
His lips met yours a little more passionately. You reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled him a little closer before resting your hands on the back of his neck. The kisses only got more intense when his fingers moved from your ears to your hair, one hand holding the back of your head while the other held your waist. His fingers danced along the curve of your hip, and his hand messed up your hair further the more impatient he got with his kisses. His urgency made you giggle happily yet again, making him smile against your lips.
Mingyu ended up pulling you onto his lap, your knees on either side of him as you straddled him. Your giggles finally died down, but you kept smiling the more you kissed him because he was doing all the right things. He ran his hands from your thighs to your ass, up your back, and then back down along the curve of your waist. You were wearing the ugliest shirt known to mankind, but he really made you feel so cute and attractive in that moment.
Neither of you could seem to get enough of each other. His hands were starting to hold and squeeze your thighs, ass, and waist, while his breathing started hitching every so often the more passionately you kissed him. It certainly did not help when you cupped his face and kissed him while intentionally brushing your fingers along his ear.
"Nngh," Mingyu let out the tiniest noise that normally would've made you laugh, but you wanted him so badly at that point that the noise turned you on. "I... I want you."
"Good, because I want you too."
He exhaled happily, and finally, he started taking off your clothes. He took off your jacket and tossed it aside haphazardly. When he went to take your shirt off, he accidentally hooked his fingers in one of the holes and ripped right through your shirt.
"Oh, shit, I'm so sorry—"
"Gyu, I told you this was the rattiest shirt on Earth. I was going to throw it out anyway."
"So then you wouldn't mind if I did this..."
He grabbed your shirt at the collar, and with his sheer strength (not that he needed much of it because the shirt was seriously so worn down), he tore the shirt down the middle. You bit your lower lip, his simple action turning you on way more. He helped you get the shirt off before continuing to kiss you.
The articles of clothing came off one by one, Mingyu taking his sweet time with you because he wanted to relish every single moment. He had remained seated on the couch, and you were still straddling him. Before he could grab a condom, you got off the couch and sunk to your knees, his eyes widening. He suppressed a groan when you held his insanely massive cock, only for the groan to escape the second he felt your tongue lick the pre-cum off the tip of his cock. 
"Mmm, fuck, yes... Just like that," Mingyu groaned when you took him into your mouth slowly.
You couldn't take all of him just yet— you were still getting used to his size. You would go down on his cock, then resurface for air every time you got the tiniest bit further down. Mingyu was losing his mind the more you sucked his cock like that, his hands itching to run through your hair. Honestly, you wouldn't have minded if he throat fucked you, and he seemed to pick up on that when you felt him hold the back of your head.
"God, you feel— Oh! Oh, yes, cutie... You feel so fucking amazing," Mingyu said while choking back his moans.
Mingyu calling you cutie made you want to do more for him. So, you hollowed out your cheeks and slurped, making him fling his head back into the sofa cushions and grit his teeth as his eyelids fluttered. His hold on your head got looser the more he lost his sanity, and just before he came, you stopped.
"How could you?" Mingyu gasped, his voice high from the euphoria.
"I need you inside me, Gyu," you said as you stood up. "I don't think I can wait any longer."
"Alright, cutie. C'mere," Mingyu held out one hand for you while his other hand successfully fished a condom from his wallet.
As soon as he rolled the condom on, you straddled him again. You spread your folds and held his cock to line it up with your entrance before sinking onto his cock slowly. The second he was the slightest bit inside you, you held his shoulders and gripped tightly— you knew he was going to stretch you out, but you still weren't prepared for his size.
"Gyu," your voice wavered. "You're so fucking big..."
"I'm sorry, cutie. Does it hurt?" he asked, the tiniest hint of worry in his voice.
"A little bit..."
"Then let me distract you."
He held your face and kissed you softly, the pain immediately melting away the more you focused on the sweetness of his kisses. When your hold on him got lighter, he guided your waist downwards, making you sink further onto his cock.
"Just like that," he whispered. "You're doing so well."
When the entirety of his huge cock was inside you— you couldn't believe that he actually fit— you felt like he had filled you up. You felt like you were actually stuffed with him inside you.
"Good job, cutie," Mingyu praised as he kissed your temple. "Do you think you can start moving?"
You nodded. With Mingyu's hands guiding you, you started bouncing lightly on his lap, the feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls warming you up immensely. You felt his hips roll up into yours every so often, making the sensation of him inside you all the more better. But, you were still moving a little too slowly for both you and him, which you figured out when you felt a hot sigh on your neck.
"Lean forward for me, cutie. I'm going to help you out."
You did as he said, and immediately, you started moving faster. You cried out when his hands lifted and slammed your ass, the feeling of his cock nearly reaching your cervix and the insane speed he was moving you at compared to your slower one from earlier making white flood your vision. You couldn't even warn him— you came so fast when he sat you down on his cock just hard enough for him to actually hit your cervix. You buried your face in his neck and cried as your orgasm took control over you, your arms and thighs shaking.
You thought Mingyu was going to tease you, but instead, he flipped you onto your back and pinned you on the couch, his cock still inside you. His cock throbbed inside you, and you realized that when you clenched around his cock when you came, you nearly sent him to heaven and back with how tight you were. You were still moaning and screaming his name as he repeatedly rammed his cock into you, and you clawed at his back unknowingly as the pleasure consumed the two of you. His jaw was tense, and sweat rolled down his face and bare body as he fucked you hard. He was grunting and holding back moans as he fucked you, the sound of the couch squeezing drowning out his own little sounds.
Both hands on your waist, Mingyu fucked you wildly. You clung to his arms, your nails digging into his skin as he continued to be so rough with you. It wasn't until he hovered over you and had his hands planted firmly on either side of your head did his pace finally slow down. Your hands moved from his arms to the back of his neck, and you brought him closer to you to kiss him.
"Fuck," he gasped, cutting off your kiss. "I'm— Shit! Fuck!"
Mingyu's head fell into the crook of your neck as he came hard, the condom inside you filling up entirely. He remained inside you as he regulated his breathing, his thick chest rubbing against your nipples as inhaled. The friction on your nipples made you moan slightly, catching Mingyu's attention immediately.
"What, do you want me to give your breasts some attention too?" he joked.
"Shut up— Hnngh! Oh!"
Your back arched when he laid alongside you and held your breast. He twisted and toyed with your nipple, and when he finally pulled out, he lowered himself so he could suck on your now sore nipple.
"Gyu," you sighed out, the pleasure from him playing with your breasts starting to get to your head.
"Yes, cutie?"
"...Do you have another condom?"
Mingyu looked up at your flushed face, a huge grin spreading across his.
"God, you're so fucking cute! Of course I do."
"Then let's go again."
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YOU woke up the next morning to see a singular text from your roommate. Usually, he would spam you to make sure you were okay, so the singular text really freaked you out.
"Gyu, I gotta get home. I totally forgot to tell my roommate I was going to spend the night here," you told the sleeping man next to you as you shook him awake.
"Cutie, this is so not cute of you," Mingyu grumbled.
"Seriously. I gotta go home."
"Then go..."
"I can't— you ripped my shirt last night."
Mingyu's eyes completely opened, and he laughed. He sat up and stretched while saying, "I totally forgot about that. Alright, I'll get up and give you a shirt."
And that's how you ended up wearing San's jacket and Mingyu's shirt home.
The second you got home, you walked into the apartment to see a very pissed San on the couch. When he heard you enter the living room, he stood up and walked towards you, the intensity of his actions making you take a couple steps back until your back was pressed against the wall.
"What the fuck happened to you last night?" San asked, his voice the scariest you'd ever heard it get.
"I—"
"You have no idea how fucking worried I was!"
At that point, you were fed up by the way San was talking to you, so you shot back, "You only sent me one text last night, and I'm sorry I missed it, but if you were so worried then you could've spammed me or called me like you normally do! Why are you being so pissy with me?!"
"I didn't want to bombard you because— We still haven't talked about anything, and I didn't want to overwhelm you!" San reasoned out but still with a booming voice.
"Why?!"
"You didn't text me in the morning, let alone tell me you were leaving the apartment, you didn't text me last night after the festival ended, and you didn't even text me that you were coming home this morning! I didn't know if you were mad at me or something!"
"Well, I'm not!"
"So then why didn't you text or call?!"
You went silent. There was nothing wrong with you sleeping with Mingyu, but you felt insanely guilty regardless. You looked down at your feet and heard San exhale deeply. He did his best to calm himself down before tilting your head up to meet his gaze.
"Where were you last—"
San cut himself off. You looked at him with wide eyes as he peeled his jacket off you to reveal Mingyu's shirt.
"You... You weren't wearing this last night... Whose shirt is this?" San asked quietly.
"Mingyu's," you answered in a pathetic voice.
"W-Why are you wearing his shirt?"
"Because he— I ripped mine," you quickly amended your words. "And I spent the night there..."
"Did... Uh... Did you sleep with him?"
There was no way in hell you were going to be able to lie to San.
"...Yes."
The guilt just piled on you. You didn't owe San a thing, and you weren't in a relationship with him or anything. All you did was kiss him, but the way he was looking at you made you feel like you were cheating on him or something.
"Take it off. Right now."
"Come on, San, it's just a shirt—"
"Take. It. Off."
"Okay, geez, since it bothers you so much, then I will. Let me just go to my room—"
You tried to brush past him, but he stopped you before you could. He wordlessly began taking the shirt off you himself— when he said right now, he really meant right now.
"What the fuck, San? Why are you—"
This time, to get you to shut up, San pulled the shirt off you and kissed you, your brain melting immediately. He held your body tightly, firmly, pressing his chest against you and you into the wall. Your fingers found the roots of his hair and tugged lightly as he made out with you so intensely that you thought your legs were going to give out.
"San— Ah! Mmm, San, wait," you tried to get him to stop when you felt him grope your ass.
"What? What is it? What am I waiting for now?" San asked with slight annoyance, his thin patience ready to snap.
"I just think I should shower..." you whispered. "Before we go further..."
San let your words sink in, and after a moment of letting them process, San let you go and moved out of the way.
When you went to take your shower, you didn't know what to expect. You had never seen San act that way before with anyone, and he wasn't the type to get jealous, so seeing the jealousy in his eyes made your body tremble. Honestly, after sleeping with Mingyu the night before, you thought that maybe you shouldn't do anything with San, but considering fucking San was all you could dream about since the first time you kissed him weeks ago, you couldn't deny yourself the opportunity— especially when it was being offered to you on a silver plate.
You emerged from the shower, and before you could even step foot in your room, you heard San pipe up from his room, "Don't bother. Come here."
Clad in your towel, you shuffled to San's room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed when you entered. You watched as his eyes scanned you from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, your body flushing with heat the more he stared at you like you were a piece of meat.
"Come. Sit here," San said while patting the space next to him after a moment of silence passed
"Can't I dry off first...?"
"I'll help you dry off. Come here."
You felt your face get hot. Maybe it was the tone he was taking— he wasn't being curt with you like he was before, but he wasn't being his normal self either. His voice was slightly deeper, more sensual, hotter, and the glint in his eyes made you want to melt before him.
You sat down on the bed next to him, his hand immediately moving to rest on the bed and right behind you, but he had yet to touch you. He inched closer to you, and your body tensed in anticipation, but he was still not touching you, and the slower he moved, the more insane it drove you.
"Tell me something," he whispered, his breath flitting past your cheek. "Do you want to talk now or later?"
"I, um," you gulped nervously, unsure of what to do because you knew that you should talk to him, but the way he was turning you on was too much for you to bear, and you desperately wanted him.
"I need to know..."
"...Later. I need you now."
Finally, San touched you when he wrapped his hand around your neck lightly and brought you in, his lips enveloping yours almost immediately. He was kissing you hungrily, like he could eat you up, and when he pressed his fingers into your neck slightly every so often, it just added to the euphoria. You moaned into the kisses, your hands grabbing at his sweater and pulling him closer.
The towel wrapped around your body slipped when you grabbed at the man more. The second the towel fell, San's hand found your breast, and he began kneading it with his large palm. You could barely focus on kissing him when you felt his fingers rub against your nipples repeatedly, the sensation turning you on faster.
"And," San breathed out in between kisses. "You're okay with doing this?"
"San, I'm more than okay with this," you sighed out.
San pinned you down on his bed and knelt above you. You watched through hazy eyes as he stripped down to nothing. You'd seen his chest and abs plenty of times because he had a horrible habit of wandering around the apartment shirtless, but what you weren't expecting was his thick cock. At first you didn't think his cock was that long, but when he started stroking it, you stood corrected.
Leaning over to his nightstand, San grabbed a condom and tore it open before tossing it on your chest.
"Put it on for me," he instructed (rather kindly).
You sat up and placed the condom on the tip of his cock. Then, using your mouth, you rolled the condom on. San was definitely not expecting you to do that, and when he saw you do that while looking up at him with big eyes, his entire body reacted.
Grabbing your arms, San pinned you on his bed once again, his one hand holding your wrists above your head. He left wet, sloppy kisses along your neck, collarbones, and breasts while simultaneously rubbing his cock along your folds. Every time the tip of his cock rubbed against your clit, your toes curled, and your back arched, pushing your body closer to his.
"Sannie," you panted, using your nickname for him. "Stop teasing me."
"Mmm, I think you can wait," San hummed. "You made me wait all night, after all."
San was fucking punishing you by edging you, and it was driving you in-fucking-sane. You couldn't do anything with your hands because he had them trapped above your head, and your legs were stuck because his knees were trapping your legs. The only thing you could do was writhe below him, your hips rolling towards his cock and trying desperately to get him inside you.
You wanted to scream at him when he moved his cock away, but you didn't because you felt two of his thick fingers enter you rashly. He fingered you quickly and roughly, the sounds of your pussy squelching along with your erotic moans filling up the room. Tears started filling up your eyes when he curled his fingers inside you as if he was looking for your G-spot. The second he did find it, your body convulsed. You let out a choking cry as you came, your arousal covering his hand and his sheets.
"Ah, there we go," San murmured. "You feel good?"
You whimpered and nodded as you were unable to formulate words.
"I'll make you feel a whole lot better now, baby."
Baby. That was the first time that word had ever left the man's mouth in the time you knew him, and it sent your heart on a sprint. The second the word settled on you, San's cock was raring to go. He rubbed the tip against your folds one final time before pushing it through, his cock spreading you painfully wide.
"Oh, fuck! San— It hurts!" you cried as you tried to free your hands from his grasp.
"Sorry, sorry," San apologized and immediately pulled out.
San finally let go of your wrists, allowing you to hold onto his forearms. He watched you visibly relax before kissing your cheek and saying, "I'm going to go again. I need you to breathe and relax for me, okay?"
You bit your lower lip and nodded. San brushed your hair out of your face and let you prepare for a second longer before placing himself at your entrance. The second you exhaled, San entered you again, and this time, it didn't hurt so bad. That being said, tears still slipped out of your eyes when you felt him fill you up slowly but surely.
"Good job, baby," he whispered and kissed the tears off your cheek.
You froze for a split second— you definitely had déjà vu when he said that, but he didn't give you time to sit and ponder because he started moving. You ended up wrapping your legs around his slim waist and your arms over his broad shoulders as he fucked you at a rough but steady pace.
"You're so fucking tight," San bit out. "Just like I imagined."
The way San's hips rolled into yours made you feel all sorts of ways. He was there, and he was inside you, but you felt like you couldn't get enough of him. You pulled him down and kissed him while he fucked you steadily, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you made out with him roughly. He sucked on your lower lip and tugged upwards, making your heart flutter a little more for him.
You couldn't help but feel disappointed when he pulled out, only for the slight disappointment to immediately vanish when you heard him say, "Turn around for me, baby. I want to see you on your hands and knees."
Trembling— you didn't realize that San's cock would completely demolish your body until you tried to move— you managed to get on your hands and knees. You felt San's hand grab your ass and squeeze it. The second he did, you arched your back, making the man chuckle.
"You liked that, huh?" San teased.
You for sure thought San was going to smack your ass after that, but instead, he grabbed the other cheek and did the same thing, both of his hands gripping your ass. He kneaded your ass until he himself lost his patience. He quickly shoved his cock into you— it didn't hurt now that you were used to his size— and immediately held onto your waist.
San fucking you from behind was exhilarating to say the least. The way his waist made contact with your ass, and the way he held your waist while he railed you into tomorrow made you feel so fucking good. You felt so good, in fact, that your arms gave out on you, your chest pressing into the bed while your arms laid flat alongside you.
The sudden change in angle was too much for San. He buried his cock deep inside you with one final thrust, a groan emanating from his entire being as he came. When he thrust into you that time, though, he hit your cervix, making you cum as well. You cried loudly while San moaned deeply as the two of you came together, and after the high of the orgasm wore off, he pulled out and threw the condom away while you melted into a puddle on his bed.
"Fuck," you mumbled as you laid down on his bed, San laying down in front of you. "That was amazing..."
"Yeah? Good."
He kissed your forehead before wrapping his arms around you, your face meeting his slightly sweaty chest. Being surrounded in his sweat only made you realize that, dammit, you had to shower again.
"This time, when you shower," San started— he read your mind somehow. "I'll join you."
"The fuck?"
"Yeah. Let's save water, baby. Let's reduce our water bill."
"Fuck off," you said with a laugh before hugging him closer.
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YOU didn't get to talk to San about what the hell your relationship was. You spent the rest of that day sleeping, and the day after, the two of you had classes— you weren't avoiding each other, but neither of you had the time to sit down and talk.
Plus, to make matters more complicated, Mingyu would flirt with you whenever he saw you. You didn't mind that he was flirting with you (because if San didn't want a relationship, then you could have one with Mingyu because you did like Mingyu too), but you felt a little weird that you were kind of leading him on.
"Hey, so, I was thinking," Mingyu leaned towards you and whispered. "After the club meeting..."
The whole club was in the club room discussing future events, and after the festival, there was an influx of members, so you and Mingyu resorted to standing on the side and leaning against the waist high cabinets. As he got closer to you, his hand slid towards your back, and he tiptoed his fingers along your spine.
"We should go back to my place."
He placed his palm flat against your back, and you nearly jumped out of your skin feeling his hot touch. Also, the fact that his lips were dangerously close to your ear made you extremely paranoid about the rest of the people in the room.
"Mingyu, can we not do this right now?" you asked through gritted teeth.
"Everyone's focused on the presentation, don't worry about it, cutie."
"Oh, then I think we should focus on the presentation, too."
You pushed Mingyu's face away, making the man chuckle and finally lean away from you. He leaned away, but his hand was still on your back, and his fingers began tracing patterns on your back. You couldn't focus on the meeting at all after that.
Before Mingyu got the chance to bring up the idea he had during the meeting, the e-board of your club announced that they all wanted to go drinking— how you and your club didn't have liver failure yet was beyond you— so the two of you were dragged to happy hour.
This time, you made sure to text San before you started drinking. You told him that you'd be out with your club and that you were at a popular restaurant on campus (someone managed to convince the president to go to a place where you could also get food).
san: look up
You looked up, and sitting at the bar with a friend was your roommate. He waved at you briefly before going back to his phone.
san: lmk when you're done with dinner san: we can head home together
You replied with the okay emoji, and he sent an emoji that made you laugh. You put your phone away happily knowing that you and San were at least okay.
"Who're you texting for you to be smiling like that?" Mingyu asked as he took the seat next to you.
"My roommate," you responded.
"Huh."
You looked over to see a slight look of displease on Mingyu's face before it suddenly vanished and got replaced by a sultry smile.
"So, after dinner tonight, why don't we go back to my place?" Mingyu picked up where you both left off.
"I don't— Oh..."
You were going to decline him, but when you felt his large hand cup your thigh and began rubbing it, you lost the words.
"What do you say, cutie?"
You didn't answer because you really didn't know what to say. Plus, his hand was nearing your crotch, and your brain was swimming with all of the dirty thoughts in the world, so there was no way for you to say anything coherent.
Mingyu seemed to be having the time of his life turning you on like that. He was still talking to the rest of the club members like normal and getting food and drinks while you were all sorts of hot and bothered. Your club mates thought you were getting drunk because every time they tried to talk to you, it took a while for you to respond, so they cut you off before you could even start drinking that night.
"Mingyu, please," you gasped and tried to push his hand away. "Not now."
"Alright, so later then," Mingyu finally let go of your thigh and winked at you.
Damn, he really was going to get his way, wasn't he?
Dinner was dragging on for a while, and you couldn't leave until you settled the bill, so you tried to see if you could talk to a club mate and tell them you'd pay them later, but they were so caught up in their own world that you couldn't talk to them.
Thankfully, San ended up approaching your table— he finished his dinner with his friend and was waiting for several minutes to see if you were done.
"Hey, you ready to go?" San asked you.
"Oh, uh—"
"Hey, San. How are you?" Mingyu interjected and talked to your roommate.
"Mingyu! I'm fine, how are you?"
"I'm good. So, listen... I'm taking her home tonight."
You froze. The chatter from your table slowly died down as the tension between San and Mingyu rose.
"Uh, I don't think so. We both agreed that we'd walk home together," San argued.
"Huh, because I remember making plans with her to go back to my place later tonight, so..."
Before the argument could actually start, you stood up and grabbed both men's arms and called out to the club, "Hey, let me know what Gyu and I owe, okay? We're heading out! Bye!"
You dragged the two outside and stood between them so that nothing could happen. Granted, you knew they wouldn't start swinging fists at each other because they weren't the type to do that, but it didn't hurt to be safe.
"I think you need to give us some answers, cutie," Mingyu said in a low tone that sent shivers down your spine.
"Okay, when we got to the restaurant, I texted San, and he told me that he was also there, so said we should head home together, but then you started coming onto me, and... Yeah..."
"So are you saying I shouldn't have come onto you?"
"No, I'm saying I—"
You were about to tell Mingyu that you needed him to fuck you, but you realized that San was standing right behind you, and you didn't need to deal with his wrath either.
"Oh," Mingyu smirked. "Got it."
Yeah, you were going to have to deal with San's wrath.
"You can't be serious right now—" San scoffed and rolled his eyes before you covered his mouth.
"Let's just go home, okay? We can talk about it later," you started pushing San in the direction of your apartment.
"I think we should all talk about it right now," Mingyu interjected as he grabbed your shoulder.
"Gyu, I'm tired—"
"If you think I'm going to just let you go without an explanation, you're crazy."
Next thing you knew, you were sitting in between a very annoyed Mingyu and a very annoyed San, the two of them glaring daggers at each other.
"I can't believe you're in my apartment," San said with a frown.
"It's not just your apartment, dude. It's her apartment too," Mingyu pointed out. "Besides, I was going to get here eventually."
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Alright! Alright, calm down," you immediately put your hands on San's shoulders to calm him down, Mingyu eyeing you as you patted San's arms.
"Hey, remember when I asked you if anything was going on between you and your roommate a couple of weeks ago?" Mingyu asked you while poking your arm. "Did you lie to me?"
"No, I didn't— Nothing happened—"
"Nothing happened? You freaking kissed me—"
"San, shut up," you bit out and covered his mouth with your hand before he could go further.
"So you did lie to me?" Mingyu looked like a hurt puppy dog. "I thought we were friends."
"We are! I just— It was more complicated back then," you sighed.
"Yeah, right—"
"San, shut the fuck up! I'll explain," you slapped his mouth lightly.
"So what's the truth?"
"Okay, a couple of weeks ago, I was really drunk— Don't!" you stopped San before he could say something stupid about your drinking habits. "And I kissed him, but the next morning, I lied and told him I didn't remember anything. So, when I told you, Gyu, that nothing happened between San and I, it was just a continuation of that lie."
"Oh... Okay, that's fine," Mingyu smiled and leaned back.
"Huh?"
"Well, if you lied about not remembering, it means that you didn't want to kiss him, right?"
"No, that's not—"
"Dude, she lied about it to protect our friendship," San interrupted. "Not because she didn't want to kiss me."
"Okay, whatever you need to tell yourself, little guy."
"Excuse me?"
"Little guy. You know. 'Cuz you're short."
You buried your face in your hands when you felt San get off the couch and heard him yell, "You're just freakishly tall!"
"Which also means you're short!"
"Both of you sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!" you ordered the two of them.
Reluctantly, they both sat down, but the heavy tension remained. It only got worse when you heard San grumble under his breath but loud enough for both you and Mingyu to hear, "She made out with me twice, asshole."
"Okay, but that means nothing to me," Mingyu scoffed. "I slept with her."
"God..." you buried your face in your hands again.
"Yeah, I know," San rolled his eyes. "You're not special."
"What?"
If only the couch could swallow you whole.
"I said you're not special—"
"No, hold on— You slept with her too?" Mingyu asked in complete disbelief.
"Yeah, I did."
"Lord..." you groaned and buried your face further into your hands.
A silence swept over the apartment, and the tension got so thick, you could cut a butter knife into it. You truly thought both men were going to be done with you, think you're a slut, and tell you to get the fuck out of your own apartment. You sighed and placed your hands on your knees, and just as you were about to get up, Mingyu spoke.
"Okay, so, if that's the case... Cutie," the fact that Mingyu still called you by the nickname he gave you did not bode well for you. "Who fucked you better?"
"What?!"
"Who was better?" Mingyu asked again as if you couldn't hear him. "Me or your roommate?"
"I— I— Help," you stammered.
"She's not going to answer that because she shouldn't have to," San nearly spat at the other man.
"Oh, shut up. I know you wanna know, too."
San actually listened to Mingyu and shut up— he did want to know.
"Who?" San asked you in a tiny voice.
"God, what the fuck, you guys?! Just stop!" you finally put your foot down and got off the couch. "Can we just... Do this later?"
"See? She doesn't want to say because she knows I'm better," Mingyu leaned towards San now that you weren't in the middle to keep them apart from each other.
"Shut the fuck up. She's trying not to hurt your feelings, asshole," San leaned forward as well, both men ready to attack each other (although, to you, it looked like a cat and a dog fighting).
"Stop!" you pushed both men from each other again and sat between them once more. "Stop fighting—"
"Then tell us who is better."
"I— I don't— Ugh! Look, I don't remember, okay?" you said with a huff of frustration. "I don't know who is better, so just drop it."
Surprisingly, they dropped it— at least you thought they did. They moved closer to you, one man wrapping his arm around your waist, the other grabbing your arm and thigh, sandwiching you between them.
"Then, we'll just have to fuck you again."
"And you can tell us who's better after."
Before you even had time to process what either of them were saying, Mingyu grabbed your face and started kissing you. Refusing to lose, San took a different route. He sank off the couch and knelt in front of you. He held your knees and opened your legs up before rubbing circles on your clothed clit with his thumb. You couldn't help but moan when you felt San's touch, your entire body reacting to him.
San hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled them off you, your panties still clinging to your waist. He resumed rubbing circles on your clit before bringing his face between your legs and licking a stripe over your panties. You tried to close your legs, but San's strength kept one leg in place while his shoulder blocked the other. He pulled your panties to the side before licking your cunt up and down, his tongue gliding through your folds. You ran your fingers through San's hair and pulled in attempt to get him to slow down, but with every tug, San only got more reckless.
"Cutie, pay attention to me, too," Mingyu whispered to you before his tongue dove into your mouth.
Mingyu took your other hand and put it over his crotch, making you feel exactly how hard he got. While you made out with him, you started massaging his cock through his pants, his breath hitching when you squeezed it just right. Truthfully, with the way San was eating you out, you didn't think you had the strength to even hold onto his hair, but you managed to both keep tugging on roots and pull Mingyu's cock out of his pants.
"Fuck," Mingyu mumbled before sharply inhaling. "Oh, God..."
He stopped kissing you and stood up, your eyes barely following him as San used that opportunity to suck sweetly on your clit. Mingyu stripped down and rubbed his insane cock a couple times while nearing your mouth.
"Suck this for me, won't you, cutie?"
You licked your lips before taking Mingyu's cockhead into your mouth, the man immediately shuddering the second he felt your lips. You heard him exhale through grit teeth as you took more of him in. He held the back of your head, but he didn't move you— he just kept his hand planted on you while you moved and occasionally gagged on his length.
San, meanwhile, decided to slip one of his fingers into your cunt, his tongue flicking your sore bud rapidly. He fingered you slowly at first, but every time he heard you slurp Mingyu's cock, he got faster. He added a second finger to the mix before shoving them in you roughly and rapidly, the knot in your stomach tightening at an exponential rate. It was when he added the third finger did you take Mingyu out of your mouth to cry loudly and cum all over San's fingers.
You didn't see it, but there was a slightly triumphant smile on San's face that immediately disappeared when Mingyu guided your head back to his cock. When he felt your hands on his pelvis, Mingyu started throat fucking you, your gagging sounds only getting louder. Saliva started to drip from the corners of your mouth the harder he fucked your mouth, and every so often, he would let you breathe, the thickest snail trail connecting his cock to your mouth.
The sight of you looking completely fucked out by Mingyu's cock was a little too much for him to handle. He let you go and watched you through darkened eyes as your chest moved heavily every time you breathed. Before he got the chance to touch you, though, San— who took off his own clothes— ran his hands up your shirt and bra and went for your breasts.
"How do you feel, baby?" San asked in a gentle voice.
"M-More, Sannie..." you whined.
"Okay, baby, I got you."
San helped you out of the rest of your clothes and tossed them aside while Mingyu sat back down on the couch and nudged your upper body away from him so that you were propping yourself up on your elbows. San brushed your hair out of your face and pet your hair before holding his own cock up to your mouth. He didn't even have to say anything— you opened your mouth automatically for him and started sucking.
"Good girl," San praised as he sighed with pleasure. "That's my baby."
Mingyu had rolled on a condom by this time and was already playing with your cunt when you started sucking San's cock. When he heard San praise you, Mingyu rubbed his cock along your folds before entering you slowly, his cock spreading you open. He groaned softly before bottoming out, making you moan on San's cock.
San's hips rolled towards you as he steadily got more impatient seeing Mingyu fucking you from behind. Mingyu was moving at a slower pace, but San could see that he wanted to go faster and that you wanted more based off the way you were gyrating your hips. He only got more irritated when he saw Mingyu hook his arm under your leg and pull it up and towards his chest. Your cunt was swallowing Mingyu's cock so perfectly, and if Mingyu jerked his hips up just right, his cock would bulge out slightly.
Not only was his cock bulging, but it was also going so deep inside you that you felt your high building again. You took San out of your mouth and turned to face Mingyu while whimpering for more.
"Gyu," you cried. "Harder, please—!"
Mingyu didn't need to be told twice. He rammed his hips into yours, little grunts leaving his chest with every thrust. You reached for his head and ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand grabbing the couch for stability. You were biting your lower lip hard— so hard, in fact, that you were about to make yourself bleed. You would've bled if San hadn't tilted your head towards him and kissed you. He sucked and nibbled on your lower lip while Mingyu continued to fuck you from behind.
The tension within you snapped, and you felt yourself squirting, but Mingyu just kept thrusting through the fluid, soaking you, him, and the couch up.
"Mingyu— Fuck! I'm cum— Ah! Cumming!" you cried while trying to push him away.
Finally, he pulled out, letting you finish in peace. Your entire body trembled as you squirted for what felt like an eternity, and it certainly did not help when Mingyu drove two of his thick fingers into you and fingered you roughly, getting you to cum again. You grabbed at his arm to get him to let up, but Mingyu was strong, and he wanted you to cum until you saw all the stars.
As soon as Mingyu's fingers left your body, San turned you around so that you were pinning Mingyu on the couch before rolling on his own condom. Your chest rubbed against Mingyu's while your ass was high in the air, and you buried your face in the nook of Mingyu's neck the second you felt San's thick cock rub between your asscheeks.
"How are you feeling, cutie?" Mingyu murmured as he ran his hands along your waist and back.
"Gyu— Oh! Oh, fuck!" you cried when San's cock entered you, making you unable to finish your thoughts.
You clung to Mingyu's shoulders as San rut into you, his hands pulling your waist into his cock as he fucked you. You cried out with every thrust, your cunt still recovering from Mingyu fucking you rough and making you cum hard. You were breathing hard and heavily as San's cock filled you up and spread you wide, and you gasped when you felt his hand make contact with your ass.
"Sannie— Oh! Good! Feels so good," you choked out when he spanked you again.
"I didn't know you liked things like that, cutie," Mingyu teased you.
You whined and nodded, your body lurching when San smacked your ass once more.
"What about this?" Mingyu asked as he ran his fingers down your face and to your lips. "Do you like things like this?"
Mingyu stuck his fingers in your mouth, and you immediately started sucking. He bit his lower lip and stared at you hungrily, your heart thumping at the sight. He took his fingers back and brought your head down to kiss him. Your tongue danced with his as he kissed you ferociously, his canine occasionally scratching your lips lightly.
San leaned forward as his thrusts sped up, making your back arch and your chest lower onto Mingyu's, your cries getting louder. The second his cock rubbed against your G-spot, you saw white, and you came, your legs shaking as you screamed in pleasure. San pulled out and spread your ass cheeks, letting you squirt all over the couch and Mingyu's, yours, and his legs.
"Oh.. My God..." you panted while looking back at San.
San chuckled and smoothed out your hair before leaving a fluttering kiss on your temple. The moment was very brief because next thing you knew, Mingyu had turned your attention back to him when he rubbed his cock against your clit then stuff himself inside you.
"Oh, cutie, you're not off the hook just yet," Mingyu tsked. "Don't you think I should get to cum too?"
"Yeah, he's got a point," San added as he prodded his own cock into your already full hole.
"Sannie, no, don't," you started panicking when you felt him start to push his way through. "You won't fit!"
"Just take a deep breath, baby. You can fit both of us," he promised you.
You listened to his soothing voice and inhaled. As you exhaled, San pushed his cock through. Sure, he fit, but you still screamed when you felt both men's big, throbbing cocks inside you. Tears filled your eyes and trickled down your face as San bottomed out, both men wincing at how tight you were with both of them inside.
"I bet you I can last longer," Mingyu challenged San.
"Keep dreaming," San shot back.
You would've smacked the two of them silly if you weren't absolutely losing your mind in that moment. You actually found the words to yell at them, but before you could get them out, the two of them started moving. You felt like your insides were going to get pulled out by the sheer force of their cocks rubbing inside you.
When Mingyu rammed his hips upwards, you felt his cock bulge in you, making you cry loudly; and when San snapped his waist against yours, you felt your arms and legs nearly give out. They were moving slowly, but they were moving so powerfully that you felt every single movement they made vibrate through your entire body.
You don't know who did it, but stars rapidly accumulated in your vision, and you clenched around both men as you came yet again. Your crying moans filled the room, and they were accompanied by both Mingyu and San groaning loudly. When you clenched around their cocks, neither one of them could hold back anymore. They shoved their cocks deep inside you and came loudly, the three of you moaning, groaning, and crying in pleasure.
San pulled out first, and his labored breathing died down when he filled up his condom entirely. Mingyu slipped his cock out shortly thereafter and sighed heavily as his body fully relaxed below you. 
"Look at you all fucked out, cutie," Mingyu chuckled as he cupped your face.
"Mmhmm," you mustered out while nuzzling your face into his large palm.
"Hey, now. Don't go making your decision just yet," San, after throwing out his condom, returned to the living room and helped you up to your feet.
You collapsed into San's chest and clung to him, his strong arms holding you up.
"I think she should make the decision now that it's fresh in her mind," Mingyu argued with San yet again.
"Stop," you mumbled. "Don't make me choose..."
"You kind of have to, baby," San whispered.
"Can't I just have both of you?" you whined.
Both Mingyu and San looked at each other with slight surprise.
"You couldn't handle us both this one time, so how are you going to handle both of us for the rest of your life?"
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would-you-punt-them · 2 months
Note
I just want to tell you this:
Thank You So, SO Much for informing people about the horrid Mr. Beast situation occurring within his Squid Game Beast Games.
I don’t think would’ve known about this awful and disgusting event occurring as much as I do now if you didn’t post about it on this blog.
Thank you.
I do think it isn't something that should be brushed under the rug, and I also feel that the more people know about it, the worse it becomes for Jimmy when the Beast Games show actually comes out.
One thing I forgot to include in the post is that the Las Vegas shoot is going to be uploaded on YouTube as an extended qualifier to the actual show on Amazon Prime.
It's worth noting that the contestants didn't know that until they arrived at the stadium. They'd been told that the Las Vegas shoot was the Amazon show, and there would only be 1,000 competitors (which is how it is marketed by Amazon). They only learned that the player-count had doubled and this wasn't going to be on Prime once they were on set, and were shown a video message from Jimmy saying he forgot to mention that actually there were 2,000 people and this wasn't the Amazon show (though MrBeast later claimed that this was always the intent).
I don't know when the video(s) will be uploaded, but I honestly can't wait because I'm dying to know how they're planning on editing the footage to cut out the horrors that took place during the challenges.
Like, how are they going to show the Red team losing the first challenge with the rope and pulley? On the one hand, surely they've got to show the 400 people who were eliminated in that challenge. But on the other hand... what exactly do they have to work with?
The production team refused the Red team's pleas to stop the challenge and demanded they keep going to the end, presumably because they needed them to do it for the sake of the video. Instead, anti-capitalist icons that they are, the entire team abandoned the challenge mid-way anyway so they could go help their teammates who were literally being strangled, throwing the game. And once they'd abandoned the rope, they never picked it up again.
Obviously, the producers can't show competitors being throttled. But that means that they also can't explain why the Reds lost the challenge. If the throttling happened toward the end, maybe they'll be fine, but if it happened closer to the middle, there's no way for them to explain why those 400 people just gave up so early.
It also presumably means any overhead shots of all the teams are ruined, because that would require them to explain why the Reds just aren't participating.
Maybe they could show the Reds giving up, but give a different reason. But no reason I can think of works. If they say they "tried their best but knew they couldn't win", they would then also have to answer the question of why the challenge was impossible for them - the reason being that their team of 400 consisted of about 380 women, while their opposing teams consisted almost entirely of the youngest and strongest male competitors.
And I'm not sure how they're going to explain that, because if they show the challenge of everyone going for coloured jerseys, they can't reveal why the teams ended up so unbalanced, as the actual reason is that the male contestants were hoarding jerseys and were physically violent against the female and elderly contestants, and organised themselves to guarantee they were all on the same team, resulting in a gender split.
I'm also not sure how they plan to edit around challenges like the briefcase game, where in the middle of the cramped field the male contestants were attacking and trampling the women. It's going to take a lot of editing to cut around that. And while they can edit out the injuries occurring they can't edit out the fact that by the end of the challenge there are suspiciously fewer female contestants remaining than there were to begin with.
Additionally, they're going to have to justify why the contestants started off so diverse in gender and age, only for the 1,000 who made it to the actual Amazon show predominantly being young and male, without it becoming clear that no one else had any chance. They can't introduce new contestants to re-diversify the cast, because 1,000 were promised by Amazon, 1,000 qualified, and people will complain if they try to fudge the numbers or cheat by introducing last-minute entries, which is especially bad now that he's currently under fire for allegedly faking and rigging competitions.
Jimmy also can't just not upload it at all, because then he'd have to explain that as well, and this is such a massive event people, both fans and detractors, are going to notice.
The more people know about it, the worse his situation becomes, because there's just no way out of it without inviting questions he doesn't want people to know the answers to.
While this is obviously too much to hope for in this timeline, in an ideal world enough people start talking about this that Amazon cancels his show due to the controversy - Jimmy has said Beast Games is intended to be his break into more traditional media, and I think it would be nice to shut that down.
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peachesofteal · 3 months
Text
Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ fantasy smut, description of a threesome, hospital/medical jargon request: team dinner, sick fic, someone drops the L word
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"Cannae get over the size of the lad."
Orion's got a fist curled around Johnny's fingers, trying and failing to pull them into his mouth.
"I know." You roll your eyes, inclining your head towards Simon. "Are you really surprised though?"
Everyone laughs. Simon warms.
You've broken out of your shell, piece by piece over the course of dinner, shyly getting to know everyone, watching their banter and usual bullshit.
He wasn't sure it was possible, but the way you tease Soap makes him love you even more.
"No, suppose not." Soap laughs, and you smile at him, full and bright, so cute he could tug you into his lap right here in front of his entire team, spread you wide for them to see, show them how much of a good girl you are. How perfect you are, how you cum on his fingers, how tight your pussy squeezes. Of course, he'd never let Johnny or Kyle touch you, too much inexperience, too much raw energy, but his captain-
he'd help you take John's cock. Hold your back to his chest, pull your knees up towards your ears. You'd whine and cry and he'd lick your tears, telling you how pretty you are with his captain's fat cock in your belly, reaching down to rub your clit and spread his fingers over where you're stretched.
It's fantasy. Nothing more. He's shared girls with John in the past, but the things they did as younger men are in the past, where they belong. They’re both too possessive, obsessive, and neither could bear it.
You'll never know another man again.
"Okay," Cami claps, pulling his attention, "Pie?"
"I'll help." You push your chair back, leaning over to press a kiss against Orion's cheek, and then stand, brow crinkled, slowly blinking.
Everything in Simon goes cold, muscles tensing. Something is wrong. He calls your name, but you don't respond. "Hey, hey mama-" In a split second, he hands the baby to Soap, turning back just in time to see your legs buckling, falling towards the edge of the table, where Price leaps from his seat, catching you with a forearm.
Chairs scrape, Cami shouts, Gaz starts dialing as you're lowered to the floor, his captain's fingers firm under your jaw. "Pulse is elevated." Nausea roars, skull pressurizing as Simon drops to his knees at your side, holding your face between his hands. He says your name, says it over and over, desperation and fear cracking the syllables, splitting them wide. You're breathing, but your heart is racing, triple a normal rhythm.
This is his fault. He should have pushed you harder to see a specialist, should have paid better attention, should have taken better care of-
Orion starts to cry.
"They're on their way." Gaz tells the room calmly, level head prevailing. It jolts Simon, orients him, pulls him out of a dreadful spiral and back to the needs at hand. He holds onto it, composure barely a shred as he strokes his thumb across the apple of your cheek, counting your breaths, gaze locked on the rise and fall of your chest.
"It's okay," he says, hoping somewhere behind your closed eyes, you can hear him, "it's gonna be alright, honey. I'm here, 'm right here."
Time passes in a blur, everything happening too quickly and all at once, medics arriving, flat keys passing to Gaz and Cami, who offer to take Orion home and stay there for as long as needed, John and Soap promising they'll meet him at the hospital as you're loaded into the back of the ambulance, Simon stepping in behind.
"She's gonna be alright, LT." Johnny yells right before the doors close, confidence in his eyes. It's hopeful, and firm, and Simon clings to it as they race down the road, unable to look away from where you lay with an oxygen mask fitted over your nose and mouth, monitors beeping too quickly in the foreground on the sirens.
"Mr Riley?" He turns from his pacing on a dime, registering the subtle jerk from the nurse before her expression turns placid. "Your wife is conscious, we've admitted her for some testing. Would you like to see her?"
"Yes." He croaks, looking over his shoulder at Johnny and Price, who give him a serious nod. Testing. Admitted. Christ. "What happened? Is she..." he loses his words, fear seizing his lungs yet again, before he manages a breath, "is she going to be okay?" They come to a stop in front of a room, and the nurse gives him a sympathetic smile.
"She's conscious, heart rate down to a healthy bpm. The cardiologist will be by shortly to discuss everything with you." It's a non answer, building frustration in the pit of his stomach, but he nods. "Found him!" She announces as she opens the door, and you smile from across the room.
He's never closed a distance so fast in his life.
"Hey-" He covers your mouth with his, hand on the back of your head. He was supposed to protect you, keep you safe, and look where you are. "Whoa." You whisper, and he shakes his head.
"Scared me to death."
"I'm sorry. I d-don't... I don't know what's wrong." Your voice creaks, breaking on a thick note, and he pulls a chair as close as he can manage up to the bed, holding onto your hand.
"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. We're gonna figure it out, alright?" You nod, lower lip rolling, trembling, and he wants to wrap you up, rip himself open and bury you inside his heart, hidden away from everything, anything that could hurt you, even your own body.
"Orion?"
"Went home with Kyle and Cami. They'll stay as long as we need them." You sniffle, tear spilling down your cheek. He feels sick.
"Shhh, you're alright, mama."
"I'm scared." You're crying now, trying to wipe your face with trembling fingers.
"I know. I know you are, but it's going to be okay. I'm here, 'm gonna make sure you're taken care of. Take a breath f'me," your inhale is shaky, but you manage it, and he smiles encouragingly, "that's it- good."
The knock on the door comes a few seconds later, and Simon swallows everything threatening to upend him as the doctor steps in the room. It's okay. It's okay.
"Mrs Riley?" You manage a raised eyebrow in Simon's direction, and he gives you a small smile. Best to not get into it. You clear your throat.
"That's... me."
"A what?"
"A tilt table test. It's the most accurate test for diagnosing POTS." You're nervous, Simon can tell, glancing continually at him, who is latched onto every word coming from the doctor's mouth.
"What... how does it work?"
"We lay you flat on a table, and then after a few minutes, tilt you directly upright. At the same time, we track your heart rate with an ECG, and your blood pressure with a cuff. If the tilt doesn't trigger the response, we usually start an IV to give you a little bit of medicine which can provoke the response so to speak, if needed." You gulp.
"Is it safe?" Simon grits, the idea of you strapped to table with wires and an IV making his head spine.
"Very safe," the doctor reassures patiently, "the test has little risk of complications." You squeeze Simon's hand, and he squeezes back. I'm here.
"Okay, let's... let's do it then."
The test takes too long. Every minute, every second you're not within eye sight breaks him down, threatens to derail his level head.
By the time you’re back in the room, he’s resumed pacing, hand rubbing the back of his neck raw.
“Hi.” You smile. You seem… better. More relaxed, less scared. It soothes him.
“Hey mama. Everything go alright?”
“I fainted during the test.” You whisper, and he brings your hand to his lips.
“That’s alright.”
It’s POTS. More severe than a standard case, the doctor says, explaining how an off label side effect of a specific medication helps treat the condition. In addition, he goes over things that may exacerbate it, caffeine, alcohol, stress, and promises you can still breastfeed on the medicine and resume normal activity.
There’s a plan. A treatment. An answer, and Simon likes that. He likes knowing the path ahead, how to better care for you, how to make sure you’re supported, and you’re more comfortable too, happy to know there’s an end in sight for your symptoms.
What started as a terrifying experience ends as an okay one, and when the two of you relieve Gaz and Cami at home, he can’t help but pull you into his body, Orion snuggled in your arms.
“Want to tell me what that Mrs. Riley thing was about?” He shrugs as nonchalantly as he can muster.
“I love you, mama, and you’re going to be my wife. Might as well get you used to the name sooner rather than later.” He doesn’t miss your sharp intake breath, the shiver cascading over your skin.
Your head tips back, lips parted, and he kisses you long and slow, holding you tight, safe in his arms.
Where you belong.
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acid-ixx · 3 months
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"hostage situation"
series masterlist
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nightwing, to his siblings: okay, so we have to be real careful because the joker and harley quinn are holding our baby sibling hostage and we can't put them in anymore danger.
nightwing, looks at red robin: i'm sure they have some traps laid around the lair so you'll be disarming it.
red robin, nods:
robin: then me and todd will be handling any spare targets, no?
nightwing: of course. cass, steph and duke will be guarding the entrance. babs?
oracle, speaking in the intercoms: this is the closest point of entry where (name) is being kept hostage.
red robin: security cams suggest there's more than just harley and the joker in the lair. a bunch of their goons are heavily guarding both the entrance and the exit. we should thread carefully.
oracle: there's no camera's where (name) is exactly at, but there's a specific room where it's shown that the two are often visiting.
batman, who had been lurking behind them: this is a priority mission. we can't afford to make mistakes.
robin, eyebrows raised: though, is it necessary to bring the entire family? me and my father could handle this entirely by ourselves.
jason, sighs: don't pretend like you weren't the first to suggest the entire justice league to come searching for them, kid.
batman: enough arguing, (name) needs all the support they could get after this. so on my count, we are to bust open the door.
dick: alright, everybody, prepare.
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*meanwhile, inside the lair, in a makeshift "house"*
(name), sitting on a comfy chair whilst holding a cup of hot chocolate and a book in the other, sneezes: oh— did anyone mention my name?
harley quinn, already on her way to wipe their nose: oh my baby! is our baby sick?!
(name): no, i just suddenly sneezed?
the joker, in another room: i spy with my little eye, a child way past their bedtime~ c'mon babyboo, let's get you to bed!
(name): awe, but it's like, 10pm. i wanna read some more.
harley, about to pick (name) up: then let momma read the book for you in bed, cutesy pie—
*the door to the kitchen slams open*
dick, with his escrima sticks on-hand: surrender (name) to us now or—!
dick, absolutely befuddled: wait, what?!
damian, with bruce in tow: what's the hold up, nightwing?!
damian, about to jump right in front of dick before he was stopped by bruce's hand on his shoulder: what is... this?
bruce: ... explain the meaning of this, harley.
harley, holds (name) closer to her chest as she's equally confused: what do ya mean, bats? ain't it obvious i'm taking care of my child?
(name): uhm...
damian, visibly offended: what do you mean, your child? (name) over there is ours.
the joker, walks over to the room in a hurry: what's with all the commotion over here?! (name) is supposed to be in bed, harle— batman?!
bruce, with squinted eyes: don't act stupid, what is this all about?
nightwing, surveying the room: wait, why is (name) in pajamas?
(name), trying their best to shrug in harley's tight hug: i'm... supposed to go to bed...?
the joker, about to walk over to (name) before he's stopped by a batarang almost hitting the side of his head: hey! what's that for? i'm clearly not trying to attack my own child!
bruce: (name) is my child, not yours.
the joker, glaring at batman: well, it's not my fault they choose me over you!
(name) wayne, interrupting the two: uhm... i did technically disown myself from the family so—
damian: disown yourself?
(name): i have every reason to—
dick: look, baby bird, you don't know what's right for you, these guys are dangerous—
(name): i literally got nearly killed by some nobody criminals if not for harley saving me but okay, nightwing.
bruce, whose attention is now on (name): you almost got what now?
(name), rolling their eyes: i almost died, batman. now if you excuse me, i think i deserve a good night sleep tonight.
(name), looks at harley who still hasn't released them from the protective hug: can we?
harley quinn, facepalming in her mind as she stares back at (name): oh, i should've bought you to pam and selina instead.
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soaps-mohawk · 6 months
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 15: Bonnie
Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7456 words
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst
A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.
Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise. 
You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes. 
“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom. 
You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine. 
You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past. 
Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface. 
Even he can’t protect you from this. 
You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing. 
John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem. 
You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry. 
You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one. 
Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep. 
You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness. 
You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned. 
You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?” 
John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.” 
You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief. 
“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.” 
Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades. 
“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.” 
You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.” 
“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” 
You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake. 
You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it. 
John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what. 
You might never get to know. 
It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep. 
Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent. 
“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you. 
He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed. 
“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons. 
“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.” 
You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any. 
“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.” 
You can only imagine how that went. 
Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously. 
“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door. 
“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own. 
“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.” 
He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between. 
“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..” 
“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you. 
You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do. 
He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does. 
He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.” 
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“You're tired.” 
You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright. 
You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”
“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt. 
Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm. 
You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again? 
“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.
Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”
“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”
Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response. 
“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say. 
“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”
Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”
He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”
“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”
“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”
You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger. 
John trusts him, so you should be able to as well. 
Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask. 
Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own. 
He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago. 
“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.” 
He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position. 
“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.” 
A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over. 
“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.” 
You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run. 
“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him. 
You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious. 
“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.” 
You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing? 
You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good. 
Is violence and death really the path to the greater good? 
“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil. 
You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.” 
He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head. 
He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.
His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady. 
“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.” 
He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired. 
“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.” 
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It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch. 
You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too. 
All he's waiting on is you saying the word. 
He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something. 
The thought makes you want to cry. 
“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump. 
You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?” 
“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book. 
You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being. 
“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face. 
The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal. 
You need to rectify this, and fast. 
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You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety. 
Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory. 
“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”
You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.” 
He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less. 
“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door. 
You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.
“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?” 
Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.” 
Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back. 
“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.” 
You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line. 
Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news. 
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“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?” 
“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you. 
“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes. 
“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.” 
He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.” 
Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin. 
“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers. 
“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.” 
Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours. 
“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.” 
You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver. 
Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it. 
“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip. 
“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look. 
The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room. 
He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly. 
“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.
“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”
“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”  
“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”
Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.” 
“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”
You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”
“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you. 
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him. 
“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.
He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal. 
Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved. 
Well, you suppose he is. 
He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much. 
It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you. 
Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh. 
“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.
You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg. 
“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt. 
He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric. 
You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him. 
“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?” 
You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?” 
He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.” 
He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you. 
You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely. 
“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread. 
You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you. 
“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face. 
“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans. 
You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets. 
“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.” 
You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation. 
“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you. 
Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips. 
He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair. 
“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage. 
“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you. 
The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position. 
“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk. 
He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers. 
His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth. 
You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin. 
“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.
“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock. 
“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday. 
“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.” 
Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs. 
“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand. 
Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm. 
“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips. 
You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other. 
You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length. 
“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his. 
“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.” 
You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position. 
Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge. 
Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck. 
“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat. 
You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!” 
“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life. 
You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat. 
“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.” 
He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again. 
You’re in for a long night. 
NEXT ->
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nerdy-novelist017 · 3 months
Text
A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)
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Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!
Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL
Benny x Bunny Masterlist
Word Count- 2.2K
Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.
******
“Benny’s been asking for ya.”
Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”
“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.
“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 
“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”
“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”
Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”
“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”
“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”
“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”
“What plans?”
“My date.”
“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”
“Pete,” you said quietly. 
“Who?” she asked again.
You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 
Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.
“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.
“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”
“Yeah?” 
At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”
“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.
You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 
In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—
You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.
“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”
There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”
********
Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 
Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.
You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.
“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 
Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 
You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 
“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 
“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  
“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  
“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.
You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”
“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.
You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 
“Why are you here?” he questioned.
“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”
“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”
“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Why not?”
“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 
Benny shrugged. “So?”
You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”
Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?
“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 
He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”
You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.
Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.
******
The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 
Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 
But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?
Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 
Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.
“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 
Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 
He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.
“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”
“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 
“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  
“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 
“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 
“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 
“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 
He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 
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