#jerk squad x reader

[nadvs]

sleeping with the enemy (one-shot)

pairing basketballplayer! rafe cameron x cheerleader! female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary after getting dumped by the captain of the basketball team you cheer for, you find revenge in the form of rafe cameron, your ex-boyfriend’s worst enemy.

» masterlist

» all blurbs in this au

“How bad is it that I want us to lose?” you mutter, fiddling with your pompoms as you stand courtside.

“Against them?” Your friend looks out at group of athletes in red warming up for the game. “Pretty bad.”

The rivalry between the Hawks and the Wolves is one of the most vicious in college basketball history. You proudly cheered for your team up until a couple of nights ago, when the Hawks power forward dumped you over text.

Your relationship with Max had been relatively new, lasting just over a month. Still, it pissed you off that he didn’t have the respect to break up face-to-face.

The worst part of it was that he was trying to convince you to sleep with him for the first time the night before he ended things. He got frustrated and left your dorm in a huff. Then, he texted you that he isn’t looking for a relationship.

You’re sure it was his plan to get you in bed then bail all along, but he gave up once he got too impatient.

You wanted to take things slow. You thought maybe you could have something real with him. What a waste of time.

Now, as you stand on the sidelines of your college’s basketball court, the tension is palpable as both teams warm up for another game against their worst enemies. The crowds’ conversations loudly blend into a dull murmur in the stands behind you.

“I don’t think it’s bad at all,” the cheerleader on your other side chimes in. “Max is a jerk. He deserves to lose.”

You scowl at your ex as he rushes through a running drill on the other side of the loud gym. You had told your close friends on the squad about what happened. They may hate him even more than you do.

You glance at the opposite side of the court where the visiting team is warming up. You spot player #10, Cameron sprawled over the back of his red jersey, as he runs warm-up passes with one of his teammates.

Max loathes him. And it’s not just because of the college’s long-standing rivalry. Your ex told you countless times what an asshole Rafe is and how much he trash-talks on the court.

Regardless, you could see it for yourself. Rafe taunts his opponents. He laughs in their faces when his team wins. He never shakes hands at the end of a game. He even shoved Max a few times, earning fouls.

You realize you’re staring at Rafe when his teammate misses a pass, sending the ball rolling towards you.

You’re so angry at Max that you almost want to wish Rafe luck when he comes near, picking up the ball off the glossy floor.

His gaze flashes at you as he straightens, and when you notice his blue eyes trail down your body, your skin pricks with heat. You’re sure you see a hint of a smirk on Rafe’s face before he turns around.

You probably shouldn’t be excited that your side of the rivalry’s most hated athlete is looking at you like that. But you’re not feeling particularly loyal to your team right now.

A loud whistle blows through the gym. The game is starting.

In Rafe’s mind, the only bad thing about basketball is that the sport has no tolerance for scrapping. Aggression is part of football. It’s encouraged in hockey. But the foul system in basketball is stupid. He never gave a fuck about sportsmanlike conduct.

He could have considered other sports, but he’s a natural at this. He has the height and agility and confidence for this sport. It’s what made him captain after his first year as a shooting guard.

Rafe paces to the center of the court for the coin toss, staring down at his opponent. Max Hammond’s always been easy to fuck with.

And honestly, it pisses Rafe off that lately, he’s seen the cheerleader on his rivals’ team that he’s been eyeing all season on Max’s arm. All the more reason to fuck with him.

“How’s that knee?” Rafe taunts. Their last game, he dunked over Max hard enough to send him hurling to the floor. Rafe laughed when he saw his opponent clutching his knee.

“Shut up,” Max mutters with a scowl. Rafe smiles pompously. Then, he wins the coin toss.

You halfheartedly chant through the cheers you’ve memorized when the game starts. The players rush up and down the court, shoes squeaking against the floor, sweat sheening their skin.

It feels weird keeping your gaze off of Max. You used to follow him with lovestruck eyes throughout every game. If only you knew what a douche he’d turn out to be.

So, for this game, you watch Rafe. You shouldn’t feel so satisfied every time he pushes past Max and earns a point for the rivals you’re supposed to be booing, but you do.

Shadows move with the edges of Rafe’s muscles under the bright gym lights. His lips are parted as he rushes down the court, feet moving quickly, hands controlling the ball with expert precision.

When the game ends with a loss for the Hawks, you’re not all that upset. Mainly because Max looks so devastated.

Afterwards, you decide to go out to a local bar with a few of your friends. You want to let loose. Maybe you’ll even find a meaningless hook-up. After the mess with Max, you want some fun, and you’re definitely not up for looking for any sort of emotional connection.

Both college campuses aren’t far apart, so the bars and clubs in town often see an overlap of students. Most people don’t care about the rivalry, especially when they’re off-campus.

But the athletes and cheerleaders never allow the tension to dissipate, especially after a game. The winners are always loud and celebratory, while the losers stare daggers at their enemies. Tonight’s no different.

The bar is dark and packed and loud and humid, your fingers wrapped around an emptied glass as you sit at a table with a couple of your friends.

When Max walks into the bar, unease rolls through you. You wonder how long it’ll take for you not to be so frustrated by his presence.

He finds seats across the bar with a few of the other Hawks players. One of your friends notices your discomfort and follows your eye-line.

“Do you want to leave?” she asks.

“No.” You’re determined not to let Max ruin your night. “I’m getting another drink.”

After making sure your friends don’t want a second drink just yet, which only serves as a reminder of how fast you downed yours, you drift over to the bar.

You find an open pocket in the crowd and you squeeze through, your hands resting on the hard edge of the bar top. You watch the bartender take orders, not yet aware of you.

You sigh to yourself, drumming your fingers, hoping you’re just one more drink away from feeling better.

Rafe watches the stranger beside him fidget impatiently. When he looks up from your tapping fingers, he realizes you’re not a stranger at all.

You’re the cheerleader he’s always checking out. The one who’s been on Max’s arm after games. But he usually sees you wearing a big smile, and there’s nothing happy about the way you look right now.

You can see from the corner of your eye that the person beside you is looking at you. You meet Rafe’s gaze, blinking a few times to make sure it’s really him.

You’re a bit embarrassed, considering you’d stared at him through tonight’s game. He’s in a dark t-shirt instead of the jersey you’re used to seeing him in. You can tell that is hair is just a bit damp, surely from the shower he took after the game.

You try not to think about him in the shower.

Rafe takes you in, the way your lips purse before you speak.

“You played well,” you say.

Rafe’s lids lower. You’re wearing a dress even shorter than the little cheerleading skirt he’s used to seeing you in.

“Me?” he drawls, his lips curling up in a surprised smirk.

You meet his eyes for longer this time, nodding at him with an indifferent expression.

“Aren’t you Hammond’s girl?” he says, clearly amused, a contrast from how angry you’ve heard him on the court.

You’re surprised that he knows you were dating Max. Maybe he noticed you more often than you thought.

“Nope,” you mutter. You tell him you have a name, then give him it.

Rafe’s eyes continue to travel over you, his pulse quickening as he takes you in. He knew you were hot, but he never got a chance to really look at you up close.

How the hell did Hammond fuck things up with you? He needs to know so he won’t make the same mistake.

“What happened?” he murmurs.

“With Max?” you ask. “He’s a dick.”

“Could’ve told you that.” You watch Rafe slightly tip his head back as he takes a drag of his beer.

“Really? I’ve heard the same about you,” you say. You realize you might be more tipsy that you thought once your brazen words spill out of your mouth.

“And what, you think it’s true?” Rafe asks with his eyes on your lips.

“I don’t know. You get fouled more than any player I’ve seen.”

Rafe huffs a breathy chuckle, obviously nowhere near offended by your words. He actually seems flattered.

Out of instinct, your eyes dart to the table you saw Max sitting at. His gaze is fixed on you. He’s likely shocked that you’re talking to someone you’re supposed to hate.

Rafe turns to see what you’re looking at. He smirks when he notices just how pissed off Max looks. He turns his attention back at you.

“Your boyfriend’s pissed,” Rafe says, a hint of mocking in his voice.

“I already told you that he’s not my boyfriend. And I couldn’t care less if he’s mad that I’m talking to you,” you answer, crossing your arms. Blue eyes dart down to your cleavage.

“So, you’re not using me to get back at him?” he teases.

“I didn’t even know you were here,” you say. “But it’s not a bad idea.”

Rafe cocks his head, his tongue jutting under his cheek. Getting to flirt with a hot girl and annoying someone he hates at the same time is a win-win situation.

“What can I get you?” you hear. You look over at the bartender and regain your composure to order your drink.

“Put it on my tab,” Rafe tells him. He watches your lashes flutter when you meet his eyes again.

“Thanks,” you say, lips lifting into a smile. You’ve been so deep in your anger that you haven’t realized that Rafe could be the meaningless hook-up you’re looking for tonight.

“That’s the first time you smiled since you came over here,” he notices.

“I’m in a pretty bad mood,” you admit.

“What’d he do?” Rafe asks, tilting his head back to Max.

“Probably something you do to girls all the time,” you say boldly. “He made me think he wanted a relationship, but turns out, he just wanted to get laid.”

Rafe’s eyes glint with something you haven’t seen in him under the muted bar lights. For a split second, his guard goes down.

“You think I do that?”

“Am I wrong?” you challenge. His laugh is dry and humorless. He leans closer to you, his cologne cool and sharp as he towers over you.

“You are,” he says.

The tension between you hardens. You stare up at him.

“Okay,” you say. At this point, you’re jaded and uninterested in dancing around the subject. “So, what do you do?”

You lift your glass to take a sip. Rafe watches the way your lips lock around the straw. He’s entranced by you, by how straightforward you are.

“I’m upfront that I’m not looking for a girlfriend,” he says. “I don’t have to play games.”

You know he’s being honest. Someone that looks as good as he does definitely doesn’t have to manipulate his way into sex.

“What are you looking for, then?” you ask.

“Fun,” Rafe replies. “And I think you need some fun, too.”

You feel your blood go hot. He’s right. This man and the no-strings-attached sex he’s proposing is exactly what you need right now.

You lock eyes with him as you swallow the last sip of your drink and put it on the bar with a clack.

“I do,” you answer.

When Rafe asks you if you want to go over to his place, you don’t need to even think about it.

You let your friends know you’re leaving and you follow Rafe out, his hand finding yours, callouses from his training hard over his palm.

It’s all such a thrill. The way Rafe looks at you. The promise of casual sex with him. The glare of your ex-boyfriend as you leave. And the fact that you completely forgot about how this started as revenge on Max because you’re so tangled up in the feeling Rafe is giving you.

When you step into Rafe’s single dorm, he crosses the small room to switch on the desk lamp, casting a dim glow over the space.

You notice a few toiletries scattered on top of his dresser, his jersey slung over the back of his chair. This is technically enemy territory, but you couldn’t care less.

It’s quite bare and not very lived in, but you didn’t expect him to be the type who cares to decorate.

“I’m guessing you’re not in here all that much,” you say, leaning against the door once it shuts behind you.

“You finally got something right about me,” Rafe replies, earning a giggle from you. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at you. “Come here.”

His dominance, not just through his words but by the way he takes up space so confidently, makes arousal swirl in your stomach. You settle beside him, the mattress shifting with your weight.

“Are you always this bossy?” you ask.

Rafe takes in your pretty features. This might be one of the best nights he’s had. He played a great game, won against the team he hates most, and the girl he’s been eyeing all season is sitting on his bed.

“Right again,” he says. Now that you left the crowds and music back in the bar, his deep voice cutting through silence reverberates through you.

You breathe a quiet laugh. You first approached him feeling so bitter, but just like that, he turned your mood around.

His eyes trail the hemline of your dress. You watch as he places his hand over your thigh, moving slowly, his thumb stroking just below where the fabric of your dress ends.

Rafe’s skin is hot, his hand heavy, and your heart-rate quickens in a second.

“You know how distracting you are?” he rasps, recalling the countless times he saw you by the court as you danced around in your skimpy outfit.

“What?” you ask.

“It’s so fucking hard to focus on playing when you’re there.”

Your breath hitches as he leans in closer, his nose brushing against yours. You had no idea you’d caught his attention before tonight, but by the sound of it, this isn’t the first time he’s looked at you through lustful eyes.

When his lips capture yours, he squeezes your thigh, firm fingers sinking into your flesh. He kisses you again and again and again, every time deeper than the last, tongues meeting with heated ardency.

You let out a moan so soft when he bites your bottom lip that he takes your hand from where it’s resting to the bulge in his jeans, showing you how hard he is for you.

Your body flushes even hotter when you feel him, gently starting to stroke him over the denim.

Your phone buzzes loudly in your purse, vibrating in a rhythmic pattern you recognize as a call.

Rafe shifts back, his mouth an inch away from yours.

“You don’t have to get that, do you?” His tone signifies more of a statement than a question.

You pull out your phone, confused over who would call you now. You grimace when you see Max’s photo on your screen.

Rafe notices. You breathe out a quiet laugh of surprise when takes your phone, hitting “Message” and sending She’s busy, then declining the call.

You feel each other’s smiles under your kiss, this time moving even faster. Rafe drags his hand higher under your dress and inhales sharply once you instinctually spread your legs, allowing him to feel you.

The pressure of his fingers rubbing over your panties makes you ache.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” he rasps against your lips.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He pushes the fabric to the side, feeling how slick and soft you are.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet already,” Rafe groans, enjoying the ego trip from knowing he got you like this so quickly. His lips trail to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin as he glides between your folds, tracing circles.

He shifts, losing contact with you for a moment to pull your dress off. When he sees you in just your bra and underwear, he nearly grunts in frustration from not being inside you already.

His hold on your hips is so firm it hurts as he guides you onto your back. Hovering over you, Rafe pulls his t-shirt off with urgency. Your lips quirk into a smile at how impatient and hungry he is.

You find the button of his jeans, quickly pulling it through the loop. He does the rest, unzipping and throwing his pants onto the floor. He stands to find a condom in his nightstand, tossing it beside you.

You run your hands over the curve of his muscular back when he lowers to grind over you, his cock hard and twitching.

When Rafe feels your thighs squeeze around him, he tells himself to slow his breathing, almost worried he won’t last long. This doesn’t happen to him. Ever.

But then again, he’s never craved a girl this badly, for this long. Having you under him like this, bucking your hips because you want it just as bad, is unreal.

He roughly pulls the cup of your bra down, closing his wet mouth over your nipple, earning a shudder from you. As he flicks his tongue, he shifts to pull down his boxers.

You take off your panties beneath him, squirming out of them, watching him sit up and roll the condom over his length.

“You gonna show me how good you can take it?” he mumbles, leaning over you again. You meet heavy-lidded blue eyes as he holds himself up over you, biting your lip and nodding.

The world stops spinning when he pushes into you, filling you.

“Fuck,” he groans against your cheek as you squeeze him. “Even better than I thought.”

You tilt your head back and moan, taking all of him, stretching as he buries deeper and deeper, dazed at the fact that he feels so good, that he clearly fantasized about this before.

Rafe bottoms out and you dig your nails into his shoulder blades as he pulls back and thrusts into you harder, his breath hot on your skin.

You wrap your limbs around him as tight as you can as he starts to rock his hips at a faster pace. He puts his lips on yours again, your kisses wet and hungry.

The sounds of his skin slamming against yours and your disjointed, shallow breaths fill the room, making you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure.

Your moans get louder as the coil in your stomach begins to tighten. Rafe starts pounding even faster and harder when he feels you fluttering around his cock.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he murmurs, shifting lower to put more of his weight on you, his fingers finding the roots of your hair. “You gonna come for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes.”

You tremble beneath him as you fall into your orgasm, holding your breath for a second before letting go. What finally sends him over the edge is when you moan his name.

Rafe comes with a low, drawn out groan, his thrusts quicker and sloppier, hips stuttering against yours. He stays inside you for a bit, his head buzzing as he comes back down from the high.

You sit up in his bed once he stands, your pulse still fast. You watch him pull his boxers back on, his skin shining with sweat.

You spot your underwear on his crumpled duvet and slide them on after fixing your bra.

You decide not to put your dress back on yet, shifting his pillow to sit back on the headboard, finding where he tossed your phone after he texted your ex for you.

You watch Rafe lean down to open the door of the mini-fridge on the floor. He pulls out a bottle and tilts his head back as he swallows down water.

The image of his tall, muscular, half-naked frame in the middle of his room, his jaw sharp as he tips his head back, his numbered jersey hanging off the back of his chair right next to him, is too nice not to capture.

You take a photo of the sight, the bottom half of your bare legs in the frame. Rafe hands you the cold bottle and as you take it in your hand, you show him your screen.

“Like it?” you say, still dazed.

He grins, dimples dipping into his cheeks, as he sinks onto the bed on his knees to sit beside you.

“You posting that?” he asks. You can tell he’s pleased by the idea, so you share it on your Snap story with the caption Post-workout.

Minutes later, the replies from your friends flood in.

IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

omfg this is WILD

actually diabolical lmaoooo

Max’s message is the most satisfying of the bunch: Are you serious right now?? Call me back.

You shift to grab your dress off the floor. You’re never calling him. He lost his chance.

“I guess I’ll see you around,” you say, standing to pull your dress on.

“You know how distracted on the court I’ll be now?” Rafe mumbles, earning a laugh from you. “Let me get your number.”

You enter your number into his phone and smooth down your hair in his mirror.

Casual, easy pleasure. This is just what you needed and you found it in Rafe Cameron of all people. You look back at him as you put your purse over your shoulder.

“We’ll do this again,” Rafe says, drinking you in. That was mind-blowing. It can’t be the only time he does this with you.

“Bossy,” you agree with a smile. You slip out of his room, your legs weak and wobbly.

You’ll be sore tomorrow. And the cheerleaders and athletes who take the rivalry seriously might even give you shit for what you did tonight. But it was all worth it. You’d do it all over again.

(continuation blurbs)

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[yawnderu]

Showtime — Keegan P. Russ x Reader

Kinktober day 4: Uniform kink

They don't hate each other I promise

CW: hate sex, hardcore, scratching, dirty talk, manhandling, creampie, just. Pure filth

"Fucking stay still." Keegan mutters between clenched teeth, trying to get you to stop fucking yourself on his dick. It was ruining the rhythm he set on his thrusts, and while any other time he would have enjoyed it, it ruined his orgasm three times already.

"Fuck you." You retort back, making him take a deep breath and wonder for a second if he should just pull out and jerk off instead of dealing with you. He shakes his head, grabbing your hips again and slamming himself all the way back inside in one thrust, basking in your loud moan before he pulled out again. Big, gloved hands pull you by the ankles as he swiftly puts you on your back, his hands folding your legs up with ease as he slams himself back in, quickly setting a punishing rhythm.

"Wanna act like a bitch? I'll fucking treat you like one." His voice is deeper and more raw, eyes shut as he holds your legs even closer to your body, the way your tight cunt is swallowing him up like nothing is making him go nuts. One of his gloved hands goes to hold the top of your head, angling it up so you can see his stupidly large dick fuck into you.

"Takin' me like nothing... how many dicks have been in this sweet cunt, hm? How many from the Ghosts?" He's simply trying to get in your head and he knows it's working by the way your half-lidded eyes open simply to glare up at him, a small frown forming on your lips as you refuse to answer.

"None of... your fucking business." Damn him and his massive cock, stretching your wet cunt out with ease as he pounds you into the mattress, using your own body to drive himself impossibly deeper inside you. The tip of his dick keeps slamming into the entrance of your abused womb, making a mix of pain and pleasure to shoot up in your body with every single deep thrust.

"The whole squad, huh?" He asked with a small, deep laugh, and you know him well enough to be able to tell he has a shit-eating grin under his skull balaclava. He lowers his body into you, arms wrapping around your waist as he hammers his thick shaft inside you, the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt and your combined moans are bouncing off the walls of the safehouse. You're mentally glad none of the other Ghosts are here yet, listening to your slutty, needy moans as Keegan uses your tiny cunt to jerk himself off.

"Maybe." You confess jokingly, though you're trying to make it seem like it's true. You've seen the way Keegan becomes possessive over you before, and you can see it now, as his light blue eyes narrow before he slams into you deeper and harder than before, his breath hot and labored right in your ear.

"Fucking slut." He says with a breathy chuckle, the way your squelching cunt is leaking all over the crotch of his uniform while you swallow him up is giving him the chance to ignore the way his heart strings get pulled at the thought of you with anyone else. His gloved hands hold the back of your knees, pulling them to your chest until you whine out. He thrashes inside you a few times before his arms wrap under the back of your knees, pulling you up with him.

"Hold on tight." Your arms immediately wrap around his neck when he lifts you up, wincing softly at the way his tactical vest is rubbing against your sensitive nipples. He moves your body up and down his dick slowly, hissing once your patience runs out and your nails scratch the only place uncovered by his uniform— the back of his neck.

"Bitch." He barks out, arms now wrapped around your waist as he begins to slam back into you, masked face hidden on the nape of your neck as he moans lowly, trying his best to fuck you as hard as he can despite his vest getting in the way. One of your hands holds onto his vest for support from his animalistic thrusts and he throws his head back, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him is already driving him over the edge.

"I'm not pulling out." He warns, as if he didn't have you begging for him to cum inside you every single time you've fucked. You simply nod your head, eyes closed as you feel the knot on your stomach coming undone, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave at the same time Keegan is milked, letting out a deep groan right into your ear while your greedy womb gladly takes his cum, filling you to the brim with his seed just as he had done so many times in the past. He holds you close to him and you don't register his balaclava is pulled over half of his face until you feel his lips gently kissing your neck.

"Attagirl."

[honeyhotteoks]

chapter fifteen: the taste of you

chapter summary: two weeks have passed and so many things about your life have changed.

warnings: almost entirely smut, but outside of that warnings for allusions to her attack, discussion of triggers, some ptsd symptoms, and there is a moment during sex that reader is triggered but they help her through. smut including: fingering, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), absolutely dripping wet messy sex, squirting, rough blowjob, cum on reader, cum in reader lol, knotting and all things a/b/o, ass play, double penetration, some amount of m/m that surprised them all, tears during sex but not dacryphilia, lots and lots of orgasms, basically she almost passes away from cumming pls enjoy

notes: more to come, thank you all for waiting for me 🩵

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 17k (i’m back with a bang no pun intended)

previous chapter | next chapter | AO3

Someone has been stuck to your side all day. If it isn’t Yunho in the hall, it’s Mingi by the front door, San in the gym, Seonghwa getting you coffee, and Wooyoung walking you from room to room. After almost two weeks of reacclimating back to the studio and feeling more like yourself, your sudden shadows throw you for a loop.

They know something.

It isn’t until Mingi nearly walks into the bathroom with you that you spin on your heel and give him a soft push backwards to clear some space.

“What’s wrong?” He straightens up immediately.

“With me?” Your brows go high, “Nothing, I’m feeling great. I am wondering why you feel the need to come pee with me, though,”

He blushes red, “Shit,” he steps back, “sorry,”

“Is something going on?” Your eyes narrow, “I feel like I’ve been assigned a secret service detail but no one told me,”

He chews at the inside of his lip and then finally sighs, “Don’t freak out,”

“Not a great start,” You point out.

“You’re perfectly safe,” He adds, taking a step forward.

“Also not good,” Your stomach flips, “Mingi, what’s happening?”

“Minseok is getting out of the hospital today,” He says in a rush, “and I’m sure he won’t show up here, he’s not an idiot, but it would make me feel better if I knew you were with someone,”

“Oh,” You relax back against the wall.

“You’re not upset?”

“That you want to keep me safe?” You smile, “No, I’m not upset,”

“It just has us a little on edge,” He tells you honestly, “but we didn’t want to worry you with how much better you’ve been doing,”

“Who’s we?” You smile.

“Um,” He taps his phone, unlocking it and glancing down at a series of messages, “me and Yunho, obviously. Seonghwa, Woo, and San,”

You crane your neck to see the screen and laugh immediately at the name of the group chat, “y/n Protection Squad?”

“That was all Woo,” Mingi blushes again and tucks away his phone, “you know him,”

“Mhm,” You raise an eyebrow.

“We probably should have told you,” He concedes.

“Probably,” You nod, “but honestly it’s cute,”

“We just,” He trails off, “well you know,”

“Yeah,” You tap the edge of his phone, “if you’re reporting my coordinates to each other though… you could just text me. Actually, hold on,”

You pull out your own phone and scroll through the settings until you find the right thing, “There,” you smile up at him, “you and Yunho have my location now,”

His eyes widen, “Oh,”

“If you’re worried,” You shrug, “I trust you both not to abuse it.”

He flicks through his own settings, “Now you have mine,” he says, “I’m sure Yunho will do the same once we talk to him,”

“Thanks,” You smile and tuck your phone away.

He doesn’t move, he just stays steady next to you as if he’s waiting for you to say something more.

With a curt jerk of your head behind you, you say, “Okay, but I think I’m safe in the bathroom,”

“Right,” He takes a big step back, “sorry, babe,”

“Don’t be sorry,” You reach out and squeeze his arm, “I’m heading for the gym after this if you’re looking for me,”

“Cool,” He smiles, “thanks,”

“Mhm,” You start to back up through the swinging door into the bathroom, and as you do you watch him quickly tap out a text on his phone. No doubt a report that you’re heading to the gym and wondering who’s in there already.

In any other circumstance this level of hovering would bother you, but they more than mean well. Even though you know Minseok won’t pop up out of nowhere, he truly would have no rational reason to, the presence of your pack around you and the family you’ve built at the studio backing you up, it means everything for your level of comfort here.

The past two weeks have been a dream. Not every second of it, of course, especially with everything it took to reacclimate to work, but having a new home with them has been everything. In the span of a week Yunho and Mingi helped clear you out of your old apartment and break your lease, breakdown the bedrooms at their apartment to transition Mingi’s old room into a shared bedroom, and installed a pack bed that had more than enough room for you and both your alphas.

In the gym you find Wooyoung, lounging on one of the stationary bikes playing on his phone.

“Did Mingi send you?” You tease him immediately.

He grins, “Maybe,”

“You could have told me he was getting out today,” You nudge him as you pass by, sitting on your own bike.

“I know,” He pockets his phone and turns towards you on the seat, “but I didn’t want you to be anxious.”

“Fair,”

He drags a hand through his hair and sighs, “Hey, listen,” he says, “can you tell Yunho I’m not going to make it by this weekend?”

Your eyes narrow, “That depends,” you say, “are you two going to let me in on your weird little secret plans?”

Wooyoung smirks.

For the past week ever since Yunho had moved into the larger bedroom his old room was closed tight, and every few days Wooyoung was stopping by to see you but also to slip away with Yunho and work on something.

“It’s a nest, right?” You prod him, “what else would he be so secretive about?”

“Don’t ruin the surprise,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “let the man do a nice thing for his girlfriend,”

That word is new, along with other words that sum up what you are to each other. Partners, pack, lovers, mates, girlfriend, boyfriends, it’s all tangled up and happening fast but your stomach doesn’t do a nervous flip like it used to, you just feel warm.

“Traditionally, I think I’m supposed to make my own nest,” You point out.

“He knows that,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “that’s why he called me. Now my lips are sealed, stop asking.”

“Fine,”

He pulls at the front of his shirt to get some airflow and sighs, “So, you’ll tell him?”

“Oh,” You nod, remembering his original question, “sure, is something up this weekend?”

He looks at you and raises his brows, “I’m due for a heat,” he explains, “and I just started feeling achy this morning,”

“Got it,” You nod, “can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head, “No, I’m fine, I’ll probably take tomorrow off and then see where the weekend goes,”

“I’ll be around,” You let him know, “I can deliver ice cream and sexy magazines,”

“Shut up,” He smirks.

“Wait,” You smile, “what are you doing about Yeosang?”

His face falls entirely. They’ve been nearly inseparable since they met, even though you yourself still haven’t met him. But you’ve learned enough about him by proxy that you think he’s the right kind of guy for your best friend.

Wooyoung fiddles with the edge of his t-shirt, “I don’t know,”

“You’ll tell him?” You ask.

“Sure,” His voice sounds strained, “I mean… I don’t know how else to explain disappearing for three days.”

“Mhm,” You leave him the space to keep working it out.

“I really don’t think he should meet San and Hwa during,” He says, “I was planning on introducing them beforehand, but you know, that never really worked out.”

“Woo,” You get his attention, “I think you should have whoever you want for your heat, not worry about that,”

“I’m not even sure he’d want to be there,” Wooyoung blushes a bit, looking down, “we keep avoiding the topic.”

“You met like a month ago,” You point out, “not even,”

“So?”

“I’m saying it’s not weird it hasn’t come up,” You soothe him, and you can see clearly how close to his heat he is if his emotions are this on edge, “because the relationship is new.”

“Oh,” He deflates.

“You should get home,” You reach across, giving his shoulder a squeeze, “relax and figure out what you want to do, and then talk to them.”

“I know,” He sighs, “you’re right,”

Silence settles for a moment, and you consider starting up a cardio routine on the bike, but you actually want nothing less today, something’s been itching at you and taking your focus, and with the knowledge that Minseok is out it feels like now or never. With Wooyoung being down for the count next to you, any lingering motivation you would have had flies right out the window.

“Okay,” You stretch your arms and hop up, “if Coach Choi asks, I did forty-five minutes,”

Wooyoung snorts a laugh, “Fucking same,”

It’s late in the day, you should probably pack up your things anyways. The halls have quieted down, the gym relatively empty, and short of Mingi and Yunho finishing their work in the back reviewing next steps and mocking up the next schedule, you’re almost done for the day.

A flickering memory passes through you.

“Hey,” You nudge Wooyoung again, “can you please wait to report my whereabouts for like twenty minutes?”

“Why?” He counters.

You’re quiet, and you give him a look.

He knows where you’re going in a heartbeat, “You want me to come with you?”

You shake your head, “No, I want to do this alone.”

“Okay,” He murmurs, “but text me if you need,”

“I will,”

He watches you go, but you ignore the pressing eyes at your back. Now with twenty minutes of freedom, you check that the hall is empty and move quickly down the one direction you’ve hated walking these past two weeks.

You haven’t been into that particular studio room since it happened. The first day back to work was strange, full of nervous energy and people who didn’t quite want to meet your eyes without some form of uncomfortable pity, but day two was better. You made the right jokes, you smiled wide, and as long as you didn’t acknowledge that room, everything was fine. Now that two weeks have passed, it’s like this room doesn’t even exist and everyone’s adapted to that new reality without a peep.

So far you’ve passed the door eight times and each time you’ve done a damn good job of not even making eye contact with it, barely even thinking about it, not even a little bit.

But something about today is different, maybe that it’s late in the day again, the sunlight dropping in the sky and the halls quieter than they’ve been since you came back. Maybe it’s the new knowledge he’s walking around free. You don’t know exactly what pulls you right in front of the tightly shut studio door, but something deep in your gut does and you find yourself staring at the wood grain, palms slick and trembling against your thighs. It takes a few minutes to hype yourself up enough to push through the door, your stomach a churning mess of knots and images flickering in your mind, but at the count of three whispered on your lips you finally do it.

For some reason your mind expects a dark room, shattered glass, streaks of blood, and Minseok standing in the middle of it all waiting for you, that’s the last thought that rockets across your brain as you stumble over the threshold, but it’s so far and away the opposite that it takes the rug right out from under you.

The room is bright and completely normal, no glass or horror to be seen, and Choi San is seated right in the middle of the floor with one leg extended as he stretches out his muscles. It’s clear from his expression that you startled him a bit, all but falling into the room with flushed cheeks and nervous eyes, but he calms immediately.

He straightens his spine and meets your eyes in the mirror, “Hey,”

“Uh,” You pry your hand away from the door handle, “hey,”

“You alright?” His head tilts slightly as he looks at you.

“Sure,” You answer, a little too quickly, “sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,”

“Mhm,” He nods, and for a moment he’s quiet, waiting for you to say something.

“I’ll just,” You start, your foot sliding backwards so you can make a quick exit.

San just shakes his head, pushing himself up to his feet and turning towards you, “Come in,”

“Eh,” You’re ready to back out now, he just has to let you.

“y/n,” He beckons you forward with a jerk of his head, “you clearly are trying to get past this and I’m in your way, come in. I’ll let you do that,”

Your mouth is dry and it feels a little like being caught under a microscope with how accurate his assessment is.

San takes your silence as a yes and grabs his hoodie from the floor, smiling close-lipped at you as he moves to the side. Suddenly he’s no longer in the mirror in front of you, and memories start to flood back of the last time you were alone in this practice room, last time this door opened and someone appeared behind you in the reflection.

“San!” You spin on your heel, reaching to catch him before he’s truly gone.

“Hey,” He soothes you, gently passing a hand down your upper arm, “take a breath, you’re safe.”

“S-stay?” You manage it, your nails digging into his skin through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt, “For a second?”

He softens, “Let me get Yunho and Mingi,”

You shake your head, “Please don’t.”

His brows knit together, “Why not?”

You swallow tightly, feeling the entire scene playing out behind you, and you could swear that if you just turned around you could see it all. Your body on the floor, your alphas above you, the flooding, rushing water in your ears of subspace.

“y/n,” San prompts you again, “why don’t you want your alphas?”

San’s thumb strokes a tender line into your skin, waiting for your answer and you exhale slowly as you center yourself, “They worry for me,”

“Mhm,” He nods, but lets you continue.

“They wanted me to take more time off,” You explain, “but I’m ready to be here,”

He waits another beat, and then lays his other hand over your tense fingers, pulling them gently away from his sleeve, “Are you?”

You swallow tightly, “Work, yes,” you tell him, “this room is hard.”

“Let’s go then,” He murmurs, tugging at your hand just a little as if to draw you out of the room, down the hall, and right back into your alphas arms, but you shake your head.

“Can you just wait a minute?” You finally ask, “Maybe what I need is a Choi San pep talk,”

He sighs heavily, his hands dropping away from you. For a second you think he’s going to leave, and then he moves around you to the center of the studio to plop right back down onto the floor, “Come on then,”

The knots release at his tone and you follow him. Your body is still full of nerves, but you’ve been in this studio a hundred other times before and right now there’s no Minseok. You’re not alone, you’re with your friend.

San smiles up at you and waves you down to the floor, “Stretch,”

“I already stretched,” You tell him as you ease yourself down next to him.

“Stretch again,” He prompts you, “it’s good for you.”

You huff a laugh through closed lips, extending the lines of your body out to mirror him and he nods in approval. It’s quiet for a little while, your bodies shifting into familiar positions one after another, moving silently in sync. San watches you in the mirror, correcting your form without saying a word, until he finally breaks the silence.

“It’s just a room,” He says, “that’s all it is now.”

Tight pinpricks of tears play at the edges of your vision but you clear your throat and nod, “I know,”

“There’s not a trace of him left,” San adds.

The words don’t quite make sense and you finally look away from him in the mirror to turn towards him, “What?”

He drops his arms out of another stretch and turns to you, “He’s gone,” he clarifies, “all his things, his scent, recordings, all of it.”

“W-who,” You start, but you know, “when did you do that?”

“That night,” He answers you with ease, “I just want you to know you won’t run into a trace of him here, not in this room, not anywhere.”

Your throat tightens.

“I can’t do much,” He explains, resting a hand on your knee, “I’m not an omega like Woo, and we’re not…” he searches for the right words but settles with a sigh, “we’re not close like you and Seonghwa, but you’re my friend and we’ve been through things together. I did what I could do for you,”

“San,” You manage, eyes swimming now, “I can’t believe you did all that,”

He gives your knee a squeeze, “It’s nothing,” he assures, “you deserve to feel safe here. You are safe here.”

You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly, “Thank you,”

He holds you gingerly, one hand pressed between your shoulder blades as he nods.

It takes you a moment to get yourself under control, emotions swirling, but finally you drop back out of the hug and sweep your fingertips under your watery eyes to clear the potential tears.

“Mingi said,” He starts, catching himself with a heavy sigh before continuing, “he said you dropped the charges?”

“Yeah,”

“Why?” He asks genuinely.

For as perceptive as San is sometimes, he’s clueless about one thing. You sigh, not sure whether you should point out the glaring Seonghwa shaped blindspot in his peripherals, “Nothing would be worth any of you getting in trouble,”

“You’re worth that,” San points out calmly, “we all did what we did for a reason, we’re not inherently violent men, y/n.”

“I know that,” You nod.

“Mm,” He shakes his head and adjusts his position on the hardwood floor, “what’s done is done, but we were all willing to take some consequences for you. You’re our friend, our teammate. You’re Yunho and Mingi’s omega too, you’re… you’re a person and what Minseok did to you was wrong.”

“I know,” You repeat, finding his hand and squeezing it tightly, “but this is what I want. I want to go back to normal with my family and be happy, it’s been too long since we’ve had that,”

He nods, giving your hand a squeeze back. You can see that there’s a protest on his tongue, an argument to be made about what’s right and wrong, but he holds himself back.

In the quiet, honesty floods forward on your tongue, “I also wasn’t going to let Seonghwa ask for a single dime from his parents again,”

San’s fingers tighten involuntarily and his head snaps to the side, “What?”

“You heard me,”

San’s jaw pulses and relaxes, and then he separates your hands, dragging his own through his mess of black hair with a heavy sigh. You let him sit with it for a moment, nothing feeling quite right to say at the moment.

He nods finally and turns his head towards you just a little, “He told you?”

“Yes,”

“And,” San starts, but any words he might have fall short, he looks to you for something more.

“He hasn’t taken money from them in a while,” You start off, and San’s eyes widen just slightly, “I wasn’t going to let him get dragged back into their shit for me,”

San swallows.

“He misses you,” You offer, “and I know you miss him too.”

He looks away again, his hands clenching tight into fists and then releasing. “y/n,” He says, “you shouldn’t get involved,”

“I’m not,” You want to reach out and take his hand, but from his body language you know it’s a bad idea, “I haven’t said anything about this in months, but I’m as much a friend to you as I am to Seonghwa, so I would never lie to you.”

He considers your words for a long beat, and then he sighs, “Was forgiving them worth it?”

“Yunho and Mingi?”

He nods.

“Yes,” You tell him unequivocally, “but Sannie, they had to forgive me too.”

He shifts on the floor, this time wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, and you let your arms fold around him in the embrace. You run one hand up and down his back, hoping it gives him some amount of comfort even if it's small.

“I do miss him,” He murmurs, “all the time,”

“I did too,” You confess, “even when I was angry,”

Footsteps behind you both send a chill through you, and you jump at the sound.

“It’s alright,” San soothes you, glancing into the mirror to see who’s come in, “it’s just your alphas,”

You break away from San’s hug to look, needing to see for yourself, but feel your body fully relax at the sight of them.

“Hey,” Yunho gives a close-lipped smile, concern clearly visible in his expression, “you guys okay?”

“Mhm,��� San nods, pushing off the floor, “all good,”

Yunho and Mingi both look at you.

“San was helping me be back in here,” You tell them honestly, “but I’m okay,”

Mingi helps you to your feet with an outstretched hand and once you’re up, he cups your cheek to bring your eyes up to his, “You sure?”

You nod, quietly communicating with your eyes that if there’s anything to say it should be said privately.

“I should go,” San says, grabbing his bag off the floor by the mirrors.

Pulling back you catch him before he jogs out, “Thank you, seriously,”

He nods, “You too,”

He gives a courtesy nod to Yunho and Mingi, and jogs out faster than anyone can ask any follow ups.

They’re quiet for a moment, but even just a second or two of strange silence in this room after being triggered is enough to make your skin crawl, and you reach for Yunho’s hand.

“Jagi?” He checks.

“Can we get out of here, please?”

Mingi grabs your things, “Let’s go,”

Yunho presses a warm kiss to your forehead as he turns to leave, tucking you under his arm, “Come on,”

In the hall, Mingi finds your free hand and twines your fingers together, “Okay?”

“Mostly,” You sigh now that you’re on your way out of the building and wrapped up in their comforting scents, “I think we can start having practices in there again, but maybe not all of them right away?”

Mingi’s hand pulses in yours, but Yunho speaks first, “If you’re ready for that, I’ll shift Friday afternoons back in there.”

“I’m ready,” You nod.

The three of you make your way out into the streets of Seoul, and Yunho smiles, “That way if it’s tough, at least it’s Friday and you can just come home and relax with us.”

“Smart,” Mingi comments.

Your chest warms, “That’s perfect, I love you.”

Those words have been coming more easily ever since the kitchen, but you watch the tips of Yunho’s ears go pink still, “I love you too,”

“Is San alright?” Mingi asks as you approach the car, “he seemed off,”

“He’s got some things going on, but he will be.” It’s not your place, not with something like this.

He nods, and as Yunho unlocks the car he slides into the backseat and reaches out a hand for you, “Let’s go home.”

You slide into his side, wondering a little about what San will do next. Part of you wants to smack him and tell him he’s being an idiot and he needs to get over this and there’s no sense in talking yourself out of happiness, but you didn’t listen to advice like that when you were making all the same mistakes. You have to let him come to it in his own time.

As the car pulls away you catch a message on your phone from Wooyoung.

Heading home - you good?

You tap back a fast reply - All good. Focus on your heat, and CALL YEOSANG.

Thanks Mom. - He replies.

You let your phone drop, and Mingi’s hand lands warmly on your thigh to give you a squeeze. The thought of Wooyoung going into heat is making your mind flick back to your own. His hands, this car, the way Yunho glances at you in the rearview mirror. It’s all seared into your memory from a different time.

Not only that, and you’re a little ashamed to admit it, but there’s something to be said for the way your alphas flanked you all day just to keep you safe. After ten hours of it, you’re a little addicted to the way Yunho’s hand feels on the small of your back or the weight of Mingi’s hand on your thigh. If anyone at the studio was unaware of your relationship, it’s crystal clear now. They kept close to you as if Minseok was around any corner, and you suspect their intensity was as much for them as it was for you.

They stay stuck to you until you’re all safely back in the apartment, and then suddenly with the door locked tight behind you, they fall away. Mingi stretches and yawns, dropping his coat on a hook by the door before disappearing into the kitchen to start dinner. Yunho drops a perfunctory kiss on the crown of your head and mentions that he’s going to change, and then you’re standing in the foyer by yourself.

It’s been days since you’ve felt something stirring in you, possibly even weeks. You haven’t had room to feel that pull in your gut, heat flushing your cheeks, wetness pooling in your core. You’ve been too busy and too stressed to be horny, but suddenly you’re full of wanting.

You’re not in heat, nowhere even close, but with the sudden way you need to touch them it almost feels like that.

Your cunt is throbbing.

At the sound of a pan making contact with the stovetop in the kitchen, your legs start moving.

Mingi glances to the side when he sees you enter the kitchen and he smiles, “Hey, babe,”

“Can dinner wait?” You say in a rush.

His brows draw together and he turns towards you, “What’s up?”

“I just,” You can’t help but get distracted by his muscled arms, the dip of his chest where his tank top cuts low, “maybe we should order in,”

“I thought you wanted japchae?” He nods towards the pan to his side.

You all but pounce on him when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug his lips down to meet yours, pressing the length of your body against his and panting gently against his lips, “Mingi,”

He makes a muffled sigh, his hands closing on your waist as he holds you up, his body relaxing into yours naturally, “Babe?”

“Shh,” You shake your head a little, your hand skating down his chest and over his nipple.

He shudders and you feel him responding instantly, hardening against your belly. His mouth parts, tongue dipping past your lips to flick along yours, hot breath warm and welcome against your cheek.

Your body pulses with need, and the thick perfume of your scent fills the kitchen. Mingi’s hands tighten as he inhales the rich syrupy honey and he breaks the kiss, “Baby,” he softens and finds your eyes, “when’s your heat?”

“Not now,” You shake your head and brush him off, pulling at his t-shirt again in an attempt to drag his lips to yours, “it’s not for at least another month,”

“Then what’s gotten into you?” He asks, angling away to try and get to the bottom of your sudden neediness.

You know it technically isn’t a rejection, but god it still feels like one, and you push back two steps to clear some space, “Nothing,” you sigh, “sorry,”

“Whoa, whoa,” Mingi shakes his head and catches your hand in his, “wherever your brain just went, you’re wrong,”

“If you’re not in the mood,” Embarrassment feels thick around you and you can’t quite meet his eyes.

Mingi laughs sharply and steps close again, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your hair, “I have never not been in the mood with you, babe,”

You swallow tightly, nodding into his chest.

“But,” He adds, “it’s been a while since we’ve done anything, and ever since… you’ve been tense every time things get a little heated,”

“I’m sorry,” You breathe.

“Why in the world are you apologizing?” Mingi groans and separates from you so he can look at you eye to eye, his hands cupping your cheeks.

Your throat tightens. There’s a million reasons you feel sorry, but you sigh into him and lean against his warm palm, “I feel like I can’t get my shit together, it’s a lot for you both to put up with. I just want to want you, I want it to be like it was. I don’t want him here, I… I don’t know,”

Mingi listens patiently, but as you start to lose steam he nods, “Got it,” he steps forward and scoops you up into his arms, “this is more serious than I thought,”

“M-Mingi, what are you doing?” You grip his shoulders as he maneuvers you bridal style into his arms before carrying you out into the next room.

“Yunho!” Mingi calls as he heads for the hall, “Get out here,”

He doesn’t stop at Yunho’s bedroom door though, instead he pushes further down the hall to his bedroom - your bedroom. The room doesn’t quite feel like yours yet, but with the changes he’s made to the space to welcome you and Yunho into it, and the addition of the sprawling pack bed, you know it will start to feel more and more like yours everyday.

Behind Mingi you hear Yunho’s old bedroom door open and a questioning sound, but you barely hear it as Mingi stops at the foot of the bed and plops you straight down in the center of it.

“What,” You start to ask, but Mingi turns from you as Yunho follows into the room.

“What’s going on?” He asks, glancing between the two of you.

“Our girlfriend,” He smiles at the word, keeping his eyes on you while he addresses Yunho, “seems to be under the impression that she’s too much for us to put up with,”

You open your mouth to protest, but Yunho’s head snaps to yours, “What?”

“Mm,” Mingi nods, “ridiculous, I know, but she seems to think having a completely normal response to a traumatic incident is a lot for us to deal with,”

Your cheeks grow hot, “Mingi, stop,”

“I was gone for three minutes,” Yunho’s brow furrows, “what could have happened in three minutes?”

“y/n tried to jump my bones,” Mingi grins.

“You’re leaving out the part where you rejected me,” You can’t stop the words, the way he pushed you away in the kitchen still stinging.

He reaches for you then, his hand closing around your ankle to drag you down the bed so that you’re seated on the edge. You let out a small noise of surprise, but before you can work out what he’s doing, he’s dropped your foot and crouched in front of you, wide hands resting on your hips.

“Not a rejection,” He shakes his head, face far more serious, “a question.”

“What was the question?” Yunho asks, moving further into the room. He leaves you both space, but leans his hips against the dresser behind Mingi.

“I want to know what’s gotten into you,” Mingi reaches up, brushing your cheek gingerly and moving to stroke your hair, “because I want nothing more than to have you, pretty much every second of every day, but never at the expense of hurting you.”

“O-oh,” You soften a little at that.

Mingi lips turn up slightly in a smile, “You’re not too much,” he says quietly, “you’re not something for us to put up with, and you don’t have to apologize to us for anything. Yunho, back me up here,”

He takes a steady breath in, moving to crouch next to Mingi, “There’s nothing to put up with,” he says, “there’s just this thing that happened that we have to work through together and that’s not an obligation. You and what you need are not obligations.”

Warmth pricks at your eyes and your stomach flutters.

“I also think there’s something you may not realize,” Mingi adds, drawing your attention back to him, “but Yunho and I are also scared of hurting you, or triggering something by accident.”

Yunho nods immediately, one hand finding your thigh to give you a comforting squeeze.

“Yeah?”

“Everytime you freeze up or flinch I wonder if I should have touched you differently, or not touched you at all,” Yunho admits.

Mingi nods, “The minute I catch the scent of your fear, I’m right back in that room with you. What happened affected all of us, there’s going to be things we both do that you have to deal with too, does that make sense?”

The knot between your shoulders releases and you sigh, “Yeah,”

“Like today, if you hadn’t been with one of us all day I think I would have gone insane,” Mingi offers.

Yunho swallows tightly and nods, “Completely insane,”

You can’t help but smile, “You both seemed pretty relaxed,”

“That’s because I could see you,” Yunho smiles, stroking his hand up and down your thigh, “with Minseok out in the world again our protective instincts are in hyperdrive, sweetheart,”

“I’m,” You start to say, but Mingi cuts you off.

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” He sighs.

“I wasn’t,” You nudge him with your knee, “I was going to say that I’m glad,”

“Oh,” He deflates.

“I feel bad that there’s a reason for you to feel so tense,” You clarify a little, “but to have you both there for me like that? All I felt was safe, all day.”

“Good,” Yunho brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss there, “that’s good.”

“Honestly,” You laugh a little, “I liked it,”

“Well that was obvious,” Mingi squeezes your hip, “from the way you perfumed all over me,”

“Shut up,” You blush again.

“Mm,” Yunho teases a little, “protective alphas get you hot, hmm?”

“Oh my god,” You roll your eyes, but the flutter in your lower belly tends to agree with him.

Mingi smiles, but clears his throat and starts to sober, “Also, babe,” he squeezes you, “as much as I wanted to fuck you over the kitchen counter, I don’t think the first time we have sex outside of your heat should be so careless,”

Your face drops, realization stretching into you, “You’re right,”

“We need to take our time,” Mingi murmurs, “especially when we aren’t sure of your triggers yet,”

“Definitely,” Yunho nods.

“That makes sense,” You sigh.

“So,” Mingi’s hands slide off you then and he rocks back on his heels, clapping Yunho on the shoulder as he stands, “don’t apologize like that again,”

You feel a little like the world has tilted again.

“I can get dinner going,” Mingi starts to say, and you catch a confused flicker in Yunho’s eyes too as he turns from you to look up at his best friend.

“Mingi,” You try to interrupt him but he’s focused elsewhere, still rambling on about dinner, “Mingi!”

“What?” He turns around, eyes a little wide.

“Are you really not going to fuck me after all that?” You manage.

He shifts from foot to foot and where he had all the right things to say a moment ago, now he seems at a loss for words, “I didn’t think you’d want to after today, with the studio and we were just talking about him,”

Yunho waits, looking back up at you.

“I’m not that fragile,” You shake your head, “and he’s been in my head all day. He always is,”

Yunho’s jaw tightens and releases.

“And you’re right, we should take a little slow,” You tell them, “but I’m ready to figure that out together, I want you both so badly it’s driving me crazy,”

Mingi’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he takes a step back towards you both, “You’re sure?”

“Mingi,” You sigh, “baby, I’m sure, I’m ready to climb the walls I’m so horny, and I just really wanted one night where,”

Your words are cut off instantly, Yunho launching up into your space to catch you in a frenzied kiss, your legs parting open to let him crowd you more closely. You moan against his lips, hands finding their way into his hair, your hot center pressed up against his stomach as he dips you back into the sheets.

“Oh, thank god,” Your hips buck up into him as you moan, your head falling back to the mattress.

He takes a deep inhale, shivering in your arms, “You smelling this good outside of your heat should be illegal,”

“Yeah?” You pant, pulling him back to your mouth for another kiss.

“Mhm,” He hums against your lips, “it’s enough to send me into a rut, baby,”

You shudder, the thought of him rutting endlessly into you is enough to make you come, but when you go to pull him closer again you feel this time it’s not you who froze up, but Yunho.

“H-hey,” You lean back a little, smoothing the hair out of his face and catching his guilty expression, “what’s wrong?”

Mingi stands stock still to the side, his arms crossed and a serious expression across his face.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” He shakes his head, “I just meant you’re perfect, you’re… I didn’t mean that,”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up, but the penny drops when you think of Minseok. His excuses, his pleas, all the things he must have said to them to try to weasel out of his actions while you were trapped in headspace.

“Okay,” You shuffle back a little and sit up, reaching up for Mingi, “can you please come over here? You’re making me nervous standing around like a bodyguard,”

He drops his arms and nods, finding a place next to you on the bed, hands in his lap.

“Funny enough,” You catch Yunho’s eye, “the thought of you in a rut didn’t bother me at all,”

Yunho’s expression clears a bit, “It didn’t?”

You shake your head, “No,” you explain, “if it bothers you, then that’s different, but if you’re just worried about upsetting me,”

Yunho sighs heavily, dropping his forehead to your thighs as he sinks back to a kneeling seat on the floor, “We’re a mess,”

“Fully,” You laugh lightly, “we’re never going to christen this bed if we keep walking on eggshells,”

Mingi’s shoulders relax, and he reaches to press a hand to your upper back, fingers lightly curling around the sides of your neck. A pleasant, unexpected thrill passes through you at the sensation, and quietly you catalog it. Your neck has been such a sore, sensitive spot since the incident, but right now Mingi’s hand feels right.

“What do we do?” Yunho kisses your thighs and leans back up, “I don’t think either one of us is willing to hurt you,”

Mingi shakes his head.

“Accidentally triggering me isn’t willingness to hurt me,” You correct him softly, “and triggering me doesn’t necessarily mean I fall to pieces,”

He nods a little.

“Like what you did last week,” You point out to him, “when you kissed my neck,”

Gears start to turn in his brain, you watch it happening as his expression changes and you and Mingi both stay quiet while he works it out.

Finally, Yunho nods, “What triggers do we know about?”

“When you touch my neck,” The easiest, and most obvious.

You all think for a moment, and Mingi clears his throat, “You get jumpy when we’re both behind you,”

“That’s true,” You nod, “when I can’t see either of you,”

“Okay,” Yunho nods, “what else?”

You don’t want to think through the incident, not right now, but your mind skips over little moments the past few weeks and all the ways you’ve been on edge. Your eyes flick up to the space on the wall above the dresser, to the large reflection that stretches across the wall, “Mirrors,”

“Good,” Yunho dips forward and kisses you quickly on the forehead before standing, “give me a hand with this,” he says to Mingi.

Your other alpha responds immediately, and you watch as they lift the mirror up off the wall with ease and maneuver it out of the room without a second thought, silently communicating with each other the entire time.

Emotion fills your chest, warmth spreading through you when they cross back into the room looking accomplished. Yunho takes a seat next to you on the edge of the bed and offers you a hand, “Anything else?”

You slip your hand into his as Mingi does the same on your opposite side. You chew the inside of your lip, thinking once again through all the potential pockets of fear. Minseok’s voice echoes in your head - Submit. Heel. Don’t move an inch.

“Tone,” You offer quietly, “I can’t do that,”

It’s something some couples play with in bed, you’ve learned that in your research over the past couple of weeks into subspace and how it works. Some omegas want their alpha to use tone, they relish in the floating disconnection of subspace and the way their body becomes pliant and limp at the hands of their partner. You can’t imagine it, you can’t imagine ever wanting to release that level of control again.

Mingi’s hand grips yours, and he shakes his head, jaw too tightly clenched to form words.

“Hey,” Yunho soothes you, wrapping his arms around you, “that’s not even on the table, it’s not even near the table, okay? We might mess up in other ways without knowing, but I promise you, we’ll never do that with this. Tone isn’t something you use by mistake,”

You nod, and Mingi interjects softly, “You have to want it, you have to put intention behind it to push an omega to comply, that’s not something we can fuck up in the heat of the moment,”

“Okay,” The nerves in your stomach settle.

“If you’re worried though,” Yunho smooths a hand down your back, “we can be a little more careful about giving you directions, or being bossy,”

“Being alphas?” You laugh and shake your head, “No, no honestly I’ve always liked that and I don’t want this fear to ruin that,”

“Okay,” He nods, a soft smile on his lips, “if something doesn’t feel right though, you tell us.”

“For any of it,” Mingi adds, “stop us in the moment, we’ll readjust.”

“Or stop us full on,” Yunho notes, “I know you want to try, but there’s never a point we can’t stop,”

“I know that,” You nod, “I know I’m safe with you both.”

“Always,” Mingi squeezes your hand again, just a quick pulse to punctuate his intention, the truth behind it.

“What about you?” You ask softly, looking between them.

“Us?” Mingi asks.

“Is there something… I don’t know, that day was terrible but I don’t remember a good bit of it,” You explain, “I don’t know what happened when I was under, what might bother you?”

“I don’t know,” Yunho says honestly, “I’m more scared of hurting you than anything, so maybe don’t push yourself too hard?”

“If something starts to bother me?” You clarify.

He nods, “Yeah,”

“I can do that,” You nod, “we can take it slow,”

“Same for me,” Mingi nods, “we’ll figure it out together.”

It’s quiet for a moment, both of them just resting their hands on your body, and you realize they’re not ready to make the first move.

“Yunho,” You take his hand, sliding it up your thigh to your waistband, “I liked what you were doing before,”

“Yeah?” His expression relaxes, tension bleeding out of the room now that you’ve helped change the course.

“Mhm,” You shift on the bed to lean back into Mingi’s body next to yours and let your legs fall open naturally, “it’s been a long time, will you touch me?”

His fingers slide over your side, playing with the edge of your shirt.

“Will you take care of me?” You murmur.

He nods, his eyes darkening a bit and flicking over your body, darting up once to silently communicate with Mingi, “Lay back, sweetheart,”

Mingi shifts to sit next to you, his legs dropping over the edge of the bed and his broad hands coming to your shoulders. “How’s this?” He asks as he draws you down to lie next to him, both flat on your backs but his arm tucked under your neck so he can cuddle you into his side.

“So nice,” You murmur.

“I’ve missed this,” Yunho hums pleasantly as he peels your leggings down over your hips, “I regretted not putting my mouth on you more the minute your heat was over,”

A thrill rolls through you at his words and you shiver, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” He finishing rolling off your leggings and smooths his hands up and down your thighs, catching over your hips and hooking his thumbs in the sides of your thong, “you taste like you were made for us,”

“God,” You shiver, letting your head fall back onto Mingi’s bicep.

“So sweet,” Mingi adds, his free hand coming to rest on your chest, slowly dragging up the fabric of your shirt with his fingers.

“You know,” Yunho taps the side of your hip to prompt you to lift them and you shift immediately so he can discard your underwear too, “now that you’re not in heat we can actually take our time,”

“O-oh,” You shudder.

“Good point,” Mingi smiles, adjusting himself so he’s on his side now to look down at you, “no rush,”

You shiver as Yunho adjusts your legs open, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of your knee as he settles between your splayed thighs. A flutter of anticipation bubbles in you and you sigh, “I don’t know,” you smile, “I might start begging for a knot any second,”

Yunho huffs a little laugh, “You can beg all you want,”

Your mouth runs dry at the implication and you look down, “Yeah?”

He nods, but his eyes are glued to your sex, his expression hungry, “Mhm, this time you don’t need a knot, you just want one.”

You open your mouth to say something, but every thought falls right out of your head when Yunho blows a cool stream of air over your exposed core, your body twitching in response.

“God damn,” Mingi curses, shifting a bit so his arm slides out from under you, leaning up so he can get a good view.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Yunho murmurs, placing a tender kiss to the inside of your right thigh, slowly kissing his way to the top of your mound.

Your hips jolt in response, a spike of needy pleasure lighting up your spine and you nod, “So good,”

“Good girl,” He hums, dipping forwards and kissing your cunt in earnest, tongue dragging up through your folds slow and steady until he finds your tender bud.

You drop back against the sheets, your body shifting and moving on its own as you arch into his touch, your thighs already trembling at the sensation of pleasure building in your body after so much time.

“Oh, baby,” Mingi says, his voice husky, “you’re so beautiful,”

Yunho’s tongue teases you slowly, exploring you with little touches and licks, and you feel him sigh pleasantly between your thighs as he gets comfortable. Mingi slips lower in the bed, pushing your shirt up over your breasts before dropping his own lips to your hot skin. They kiss like they want to breathe you in until they’re dizzy, and as your eyes slip closed all you can focus on is the feeling of their hands holding you, their tongues, warm breath against your dampened skin.

Hands push your sports bra up to strip you off and leave you bare and then Mingi’s mouth closes over one nipple while his fingers tease the other, flicking and sucking in perfect rhythm to match Yunho’s tongue on your clit.

“God,” You shiver, heat pooling low in your belly, “oh, God,”

Yunho hums against you, pushing closer to your wet center so he can suck your tender clit.

You moan sharply, the feeling heady and dizzying, and you reach down to wind your fingers into his hair. He inhales against your skin and you blink your eyes open, looking down to watch as both your alphas lavish your body. Yunho looks up through the hood of his lashes, his face shiny and wet with your slick, and he shifts to open up your thighs more to his needy mouth.

“Fuck,” Your hips buck, fingers tight against his scalp.

Mingi shifts back up, this time pressing heavily into your space and capturing your mouth, his tongue flicking against yours as he dips you back into the sheets.

“Mmm,” Yunho nods into your core, his tongue pressing inside you as he nestles closer, your clit bumping the bridge of his nose.

Your hips roll, chasing the sensation that has already started to make you dizzy, “Oh, g-god,”

Mingi holds you closer now, your body trembling in his arms, and he strokes your sweat-slick skin, “That’s it,” he coaxes you, “that’s it, omega,”

Your thighs start to shake, and Mingi finds your knee so he can hold you open wide for Yunho’s mouth.

You jerk against him, hips jutting with every spike of pleasure, a blush blooming up your chest and cheeks.

“Ride him,” Mingi coaxes you as your hips roll, “just like that, come on his face,”

Yunho’s hands lock down tight, roughly pulling you a little closer so he can keep working his tongue against you, inside you, sensations exploding everywhere they touch you.

“I’m so fucking close,” You whine, the words running together as sweat breaks across your skin, “P-please,”

”That’s our girl,” Mingi nuzzles into the side of your head, his deep tenor making your brain go fuzzy.

“I’m,” Your eyes screw tightly shut, every movement of your body jerky and uncoordinated but every bump of Yunho’s nose against your clit and his tongue inside you has you right on the perfect precipice, “there, there,”

Yunho stays steady, hearing your need without changing pattern or pressure, and the sudden consistent pulse sends you spiraling.

You come hard, your first orgasm in weeks let alone your first non-heat orgasm with them, and you’re caught fully in the torrent of pleasure with your vision going white and a distinct ringing in your ears.

When you start to come through it, you realize you’re turned to the side, your body completely locked up and you’re gripping Mingi’s arm hard with your nails. He’s rolled close behind you to keep his arms there, but he leans over to see your face.

“So good, wasn’t it?” You catch the end of his sentence, blinking your eyes open and humming in response.

“Yeah,” Yunho’s voice now, and you look down to see him kneeling by your now-closed knees, one broad hand sweeping a line up and down your skin, “there you are,”

“I think you killed me,” You smile wide, tucking your face into the mattress, “you’re talking to a ghost,”

Yunho laughs, and Mingi hums a pleased sound, nuzzling you some more, “Come back over here, gorgeous girl,”

You let him roll you back over into the same position you started in, only this time your body feels like jelly.

“Good?”

“Delicious,” It’s the only word you can think of for how good it all feels.

Yunho nudges your thighs open again and you glance down.

“More?” He grins.

“What about you two?” You’re about halfway through the sentence when Yunho brushes his fingers over your clit again and your words end in a breathy moan.

“We’ve got all night,” Mingi reminds you, “and judging by how hard Yunho is, I think he likes getting you off,”

“Shut up,” Yunho scolds him gently before dropping a warm kiss on your inner thigh, “don’t tell me your dick couldn’t cut glass right now,”

Mingi huffs a laugh, “We have a whiny, desperate, moaning mess of an omega in our bed,” his fingers slide along your side as he talks and you twitch under his hands, “of course I’m hard.”

“Mm,” Yunho kisses up your dripping slit, “baby, why don’t you help him out with that while I take care of you?”

“Y-yeah, yes,” You reach for Mingi, “please, let me help,”

Mingi licks his lips, his hand drifting down to his clothed cock and your eyes flick down to follow. He’s straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, and you clumsily try to open them from your twisted position on the bed for a moment before he stops you.

“Here,” Mingi gets up and shucks off his clothes entirely, settling back down into the same position. He’s achingly hard, the head pink and leaking precum, and you blush at the dirty thoughts that flit through your mind one right after another.

“I can wait,” He offers.

“Fuck,” You shake your head, “I can’t,”

Mingi groans, his hand pumping over his cock once.

“Her mouth,” Yunho suggests between languid licks at your pussy, “trust me,”

You’re nodding before Mingi can even ask if that’s okay, “Please,” you prop yourself up on the bed a little better, “let me taste,”

“Fuck,” Mingi curses.

The three of you move and adjust in tandem until you’re propped at the very edge of the bed for Yunho between your legs, and supported by a pillow behind your shoulder so that you can be slightly turned to the side to reach Mingi where he kneels at your head, his thighs parted wide to drop low and get his cock level with your mouth.

They’re both fully still as you slide forwards, dropping your mouth open and letting the very tip of Mingi’s fat cock pass through your lips and over your tongue.

Mingi moans, and you hum in response.

“You two look perfect,” Yunho murmurs.

“Yeah?” Mingi’s hand brushes over your head, “You hear that, babe? You look perfect sucking my cock,”

You hum around him, taking him deeper into your mouth.

Yunho kisses your mound gently, and you know that’s your warning that he’s about to start again. You gently buck your hips to let him know you’re ready, and he hums softly. Before he starts though, he reaches one hand up and finds where yours is twisted in the sheets, pulling your fingers away so he can hold your hand instead.

He squeezes your hand twice, hard, “If you need air,” he tells you.

You pulse your hand back once to acknowledge his words.

He responds with a sharp thrust of two fingers inside your tight channel and you groan around Mingi’s cock.

“Shit,” Mingi grips you, “jesus, babe,”

Through hooded lashes you look up at him and his jaw tightens, his breath coming in hot exhales through his nose. Whatever you’re doing with your tongue is exactly what he needs and it springs you forwards.

The position isn’t perfect, but it’s close, and so you ignore the little bit of discomfort in your back to give him what he needs. You bob your head back and forth, dragging Mingi’s cock deeper into your warm mouth with every forward sink. He doesn’t direct your movements, but his hand in your hair feels comforting, steady, and makes you want to take him all the more.

“So good,” Mingi pants, “fuck yes, pretty girl,”

Your cunt clenches around Yunho’s fingers and you hear him chuckle between your thighs.

“Ah, ah,” Mingi huffs as you take him further into your throat, “she likes that?”

Yunho lifts his tongue from your clit, “Uh-huh,” he nips a little bite at your inner thigh, “she’s slicking all over my fingers,”

You groan, you didn’t know how they would really be outside of your heat. Heat makes everyone blurry and needy messes, but hearing how filthy they can be on a regular weeknight? No heat, no special occasion, just all of you together? You’re getting dizzy.

“Mm,” Mingi locks his eyes on your face, watching the way you take him nearly to the hilt, “look at you trying to take it all,”

You sink further, ignoring the burn in your jaw and the flickering gag reflex at the back of your throat until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.

“Jesus f-fuck,” Mingi groans, his head falling back, “that’s it, good fucking girl,”

Yunho’s lips close over your clit again and he sucks hard, ripping a muffled whine from your throat.

“Please,” Mingi begs, and you shiver at the sound of your alpha begging for you, not the other way around.

You pull free from his length and take a deep breath before diving back forwards, this time working him fast and a little sloppy. His fingers tighten up when you tease the head of his cock with the hard tip of your tongue, and his hips jerk every time you slide down about halfway, and with some sort of steady rhythm you double your efforts.

Yunho curses between your legs softly, and then you feel him move, tipping your legs open wider and readjusting his fingers inside you. Your eyes widen when you feel him curl them, locating your spongy g-spot and confirming it with a test jerk of his fingers that sends a shudder through your body as you moan.

He gets the spot right again, and then you’re done for. Between the quick juts of his fingers inside you, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, and the feeling of his tongue torturing your swollen bud, you don’t have long.

“God,” Mingi pants, “listen to you,”

You’re a wet and whiny mess just like he’s said, only this time your mouth on his cock makes the sound of the room all the more lewd.

“Are you going to come for us again?” Mingi says, voice thready, “Our perfect omega,”

You whine, and you feel Mingi’s cock twitch in your mouth. Everything is foggy and hot, a building knot deep in your core, something bubbling up fast inside you and your hips jerk against Yunho’s fingers.

His thumb brushes the back of your knuckles and your eyes roll back, your orgasm rushing towards you fast.

Mingi’s groaning though, he’s close to spilling himself hot down your throat and when his hips jerk on their own you nod to let him know he can keep going. Falling forwards onto his knees he braces one hand against the mattress and keeps the other rooted in your hair, letting himself rock his hips just enough to drag his length in and out of your lips, over your tongue exactly where he needs the pressure.

”Someday I’m gonna knot that pretty mouth, baby,” He groans.

You moan hard, your back arching up.

Yunho uses your combined hands to push you back down flat to the mattress, and the pressure change has you ready to burst.

There’s so much happening at once, so much sensation pulsing through your body and despite the way that Mingi fucks your face, you’re acutely aware of the warm bubble in your belly dropping low and feeling unlike any orgasm you’ve ever had before.

You whine hard, your head jerking back a little, but Mingi doesn’t pick up on what you need immediately, he’s too close, “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m g-gonna,”

Yunho takes a sharp breath and then closes his lips over your clit, sucking fast and hard, his fingers pumping firmly at the exact rhythm you need like a metronome counting you through the last beats of your pleasure before the hard crescendo.

Something tightens in your gut, almost painfully and unfamiliar, and you whine harshly again, yanking back from Mingi hard enough that he stutters and lets you go. You fall back into the pillows just as the knot in your gut snaps and you come hot and hard with a staggered cry, arching into Yunho’s mouth as clear fluid starts to pulse from your core.

“Good girl,” He croons, sliding his hand up your wet pussy to rub fast and hard across your clit, prolonging the striking wave, “oh my god, baby, yes, fuck,”

”S-shit,” Mingi falters, his own release ripped away the minute you pulled back, and he makes the neediest whine you’ve ever heard from an alpha in all your life.

You’ll help, you will, as soon as you regain some semblance of which way is up and which is down and use of your arms.

Yunho’s quicker though, he squeezes your hand once before he pulls away, dropping your legs and making sure you’re not going to slide off the bed before he climbs up next to you both.

“You’re alright,” He murmurs, but it’s not to you, and you blink hard to clear the dizzy orgasm away and refocus.

When you turn your head you nearly lose your mind, the sight of your alphas together too good to even have imagined up in your darkest little fantasies. Mingi is still gripping the mattress with one hand and your hair with the other, but Yunho is wrapped behind him and reaching around to work his packmate’s cock with steady, fast strokes.

“F-fuck,” Mingi moans, “h-harder,”

Yunho drops his forehead against Mingi’s broad shoulder and lets his eyes close, picking up the pace of his hand, “Look at her, watch our pretty omega,”

Mingi groans, his eyes blinking open until he finds you.

You reach up, snaking a hand through the tangled mess of arms until you find Mingi’s hard nipple. His eyes widen and he hisses as you pass a thumb over it, shuddering between you both.

“Alpha,” You beg, “come,”

“O-oh my g-,” Mingi chokes as you start to flick his nipple a little more firmly.

”That’s it,” Yunho pants, and you see him looking down at you too, “help him,”

“Mingi,” You whine like you’re starving for him, “come for me, please, please,”

He gasps, hips canting forwards and jerking into Yunho’s fist, holding you steady on the bed as he releases, spurts of milky cum panting your lips, your cheeks, spattering across your naked breasts.

It takes a minute for you all to recover, the only sound in the room the heavy breath shared between you, but you watch as Yunho gently releases Mingi’s softening cock, bracing himself by holding Mingi’s hips for just a moment while he catches his own breath before sliding back and off the bed entirely.

Mingi shifts back, his cheeks and chest flushed pink and the reality of what just happened sinks into you. You have no idea if they’ve ever touched each other before like that, and you all but hold your breath to see where things go from here.

You listen as Yunho pads out of the room and into the connected bathroom, and after a moment of rustling around he returns with two towels. He tosses one down on the floor and you remember suddenly how your own orgasm ended.

”Oh, fuck,” You cover your eyes, “I’m sorry,”

”Don’t be,” Yunho says, “I loved it,”

”Still,” You sigh, “I’ve never done that before,”

Mingi huffs a tiny laugh next to you, and you pull your hand away to look up at him. He smiles a little, “That makes two of us,”

Yunho kneels on the bed, shifting a little closer, and passes the damp end of a towel over all the places you’re still covered in Mingi’s cum. He seems profoundly unaffected by all of it, and you’re a second from asking if he’s okay, but he gets there first.

“Sweetheart,” His gaze is soft and easy, and he looks down at you warmly while he cleans up your cheek, “can I touch your neck?”

You love him.

”Yeah,” You nod, stretching a little so he can reach.

He passes the towel over your throat quickly, “How are you feeling?”

“Really good,” You brush your hand along his arm.

He nods, tossing the towel to the edge of the bed. He looks at you a moment longer, but then he looks up to Mingi and clears his throat, “You good?”

“Yeah,”

You look between them, noticing the unspoken conversation passing between them.

“I hope I didn’t,” Yunho trails off.

“You didn’t,” Mingi promises, “it’s us,”

Yunho sighs, one of his hands coming to rest warmly on your stomach and the other reaching for your other alpha, “Good,”

It’s quiet for a beat, and you need to know where they’re at before you nervously combust.

“Um,” You shift in the sheets until you’re pushing yourself up to a seat with them, “are we… is everything…” you can’t figure out how to ask what you’re asking, so you settle on the only thing that makes sense, “are we good?”

“Of course we are,” Mingi reaches for you, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss to your lips.

”Sorry,” Yunho squeezes your thigh, “we didn’t mean to exclude you,”

“No, no,” You shake your head, “that’s between you,”

“No,” Yunho disagrees, “we’re all together, and there should never be any questions or secrets,”

“Mhm,” Mingi agrees, “but like I said, it’s us. It doesn’t have to mean anything, but things have always been different where we’re concerned,” He gestures between himself and Yunho.

“But you’ve never?” You let the implication speak for itself.

Yunho shakes his head.

“We made out in college once,” Mingi says, a laugh on his lips, “but we were pretty drunk and it was for a dare,”

“We weren’t that drunk,” Yunho shrugs.

“Hmm,” You stretch your aching limbs and tangle your fingers with Yunho, “I would have loved to have been there for that,”

Mingi laughs earnestly now and tugs you up into his lap, “I didn’t know you’d be such a horny little mess outside of your heat,”

Your core flutters but you tease him right back, “I’m an omega,” you roll your eyes, “we’re all horny messes,”

“That’s convenient then,” He kisses you, nipping at your lip, “since you have two alphas here who want nothing more than to keep you locked on our knots all day,”

You shiver a little.

“Yunho,” Mingi looks up, “come here,”

Yunho’s body heat envelops you on your left side, and they move you until you’re cradled in both their arms, body spread across their laps while Yunho holds your top half in the crook of his left arm and Mingi supports the rest of you.

They lean against each other, bare shoulder to bare shoulder and your mind starts to wander down the path of all of you together again.

“Maybe you were always meant to be pack,” You point out softly, and their hands still where they stroke your skin.

Yunho nods and looks over to Mingi, “We were fast friends,”

“True,” He murmurs.

Yunho smiles and looks down again, “Maybe we just needed to find you,”

“I forgot how much of a romantic you are,”

He dips down to press a fast kiss to your lips, “One of us should be,”

“I’m not complaining,” You peck his lips quick as he leans back up, “never stop,”

Mingi gives your hip a squeeze, and then he takes Yunho’s hand in his, “Let’s romantically make our girl come again,”

Yunho chuckles, low and warm in his chest, “What do you have in mind?”

You watch as Mingi guides Yunho’s fingers down to your entrance only this time he pushes his own fingers in right alongside. The stretch is sudden and perfect and you moan softly, gripping down on Yunho’s knee.

“Show me how you made her come before,” Mingi’s eyes are glued to your core, “I didn’t get to appreciate it before,”

Yunho grins, “Gladly,”

Your next two orgasms are a blur of sensation, their combined attentions pulling feeling out of you that you didn’t know existed without your heat. Mingi’s lavishing you with his tongue, cleaning you up from the mess you’ve made, when you finally make an overstimulated squeak and push his head away.

“Mm,” He kisses your clit, “fine,”

“If either one of you wants to actually fuck me,” You yawn, “I need a break,”

“Sleep,” Yunho pulls a blanket up and over your body, “we’ll be here when you wake up,”

You’d protest, but it sounds too good now that you’re cocooned in the blanket and buried in the pillows. When Mingi collapses at your other side and you have both of them around you, you drift.

You wake to lazy kisses, sleepy nuzzling from both of them, their hands drifting over your body.

You stretch into it, finding both of them hard and warm and wanting.

“Mm,” Mingi curls over your side, kissing any part of skin he can, “hi, sleepyhead,”

You gasp sharply as his mouth closes over your nipple.

“You were moving around in your sleep,” Yunho’s hand coasts up your thigh as he nudges closer, “bad dreams or good dreams?”

You moan as Mingi sucks a little harder, “No dreams,”

“Needy even asleep?” Mingi teases.

“I,” You start to say, but you feel Yunho’s cock nudging at the apex of your thighs, the head pushing against your clit.

“Fuck,” Yunho sighs, “you’re still wet,”

You shiver, and he pushes his hips forward a little to slide his cock against your slick slit further.

His hands tighten on you and he shudders a sigh into your hair.

“Please,” You part your knees, “no more teasing, I, just, please,”

Mingi shifts away from your back to give you a little space and without hesitation Yunho rolls you. Your legs part open naturally now that you’re on your back.

“Is this okay?” Yunho murmurs, brushing the hair back from your face as he settles above you and in between your splayed knees.

“Mhm,” You soothe him, his nerves evident despite the heat between you all in the room.

“And this?” He asks softly, the velvet head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

“Slow,” You gasp as he starts to push in, and he adjusts his pace. As always, his size dwarfs you, and it takes you time to adjust. In heat it’s easy to take an alpha’s cock with almost no preparation, your body producing enough slick and your muscles adjusting so that days of sex and knotting don’t feel so difficult.

Outside of heat you can take it too, but it’s not as quick and simple.

Your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the stretch of it, the ache, the way your channel seems to resist and then give way to him in the most warm and dizzying pleasure.

“Sweetheart,” He whispers, “are you with me?”

“Mhm,” You look back up at him, “you feel incredible.”

He sighs, relief in his eyes, and with one more careful push he seats himself fully inside you.

“You feel,” You shiver, words dying on your lips.

He smiles as he lowers himself down, resting an elbow on either side of your head and lacing one hand in your hair, “How do I feel, little omega?”

Your muscles flutter and clench around him and you sigh, “Big, it’s… god it’s so much more than when I was in heat,”

“No pain?”

“No,” You let your fingers stroke up and down the length of his back.

“Good,” He hums, dipping down to kiss you tenderly, “because you’re perfect, you feel perfect around me,”

His tongue dips into your mouth this time, a soft kiss turns needy, and slowly he starts to move, thrusting his hips shallowly just to get you used to the sensation.

Mingi shifts to rest close to you both, his fingers running up and down your arm softly, and you reach for him to twine your fingers together as you watch Yunho watching you.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “baby,”

You can feel the emotion rolling off him in waves, the tenderness as he presses himself deeper into you.

“Sweetheart,” His fingers brush along your cheek, “I, god, I,”

“I know,” your head falls back, and you grip Mingi’s hand.

Yunho picks up the pace slightly, a little faster and a little more with each stroke and he shudders when he hears a sharp moan, “Good?”

“Please, don’t stop,” You beg him, gripping down onto his shoulder with your free hand.

He adjusts your bodies, pressing over yours so that your hips rock with his in a rolling rhythm, and his lips capture yours. His warm breath, the pressure of him above you, waves of sensation as you breathe in his warm, safe scent.

You’re creeping up to the edge of an orgasm, but you feel him shudder above you before he moans against your mouth and you pull him tight to you.

“Please,” you moan, “Yunho please,”

“Say it,” he whispers, “tell me,”

The words spill out of you, “Baby, I, god, I love you,”

His hips slow and he meets your eyes, absolute tender adoration rolling off him in waves when he replies, “I love you so much,”

“I missed you,” You confess, a sudden rush of emotion through your chest and tears pricking at your eyes. Blinking hard you look to the side to find Mingi and squeeze his hand, “I missed you both. I love you both,”

Mingi’s expression crumbles and he presses forwards to kiss you, his lips connecting to yours with intensity, his free hand against your face, a sigh on his lips when he leans back. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, his eyes misty, “You’re our omega, our mate,” he corrects, “we’re never letting go of you again.”

“Mingi,” You soften.

“I love you,” He replies, kissing the back of your hand.

When Mingi slides back a little further, you look back to Yunho and see that he's frozen still above you, watching you both with warmth. When you meet his eyes, a small smile plays across his mouth, “Can you take more, baby?”

Your body jerks gently against him, just the implication that he would fuck you earnestly making your mind dizzy, and all you can do is nod, “Yes, yes,”

He rocks back down on you in an instant, gathering you as close as he can while he fucks you soft, meeting your mouth and saying everything he needs to in the kiss. All the apologies, the amends, he pours it all into this until he hears you whining beneath him, arcs of pleasure spiking up your spine with every deep roll of his pelvis against your clit and push of his cock in deeper.

“Like that?” He pants against your cheek.

“Don’t you dare stop,” You arch against him, holding him tightly to you as you let him move.

Something about the slow steady pressure he’s applying is making you careen back up to the top of pleasure. There’s a time and a place for hard and deep, but this? This has you melting into his hands in a way you’d never have expected and your legs quiver as you try to hitch your calves on his hips to give him a deeper angle.

“C-close?” He manages.

You nod, twisting your head to the side to catch his mouth again.

“Mm,” He groans against your mouth, “I can feel it,”

Your fingers tighten on him.

“Fuck,” He curses, his movements staying controlled and slow, firm but not too fast.

Tears gather in your eyes, the way the bubble is building inside of you is almost painfully good, and heat spreads over every inch of your skin before concentrating hot on your core. You feel the bed shift, and without looking you know Mingi is close by, all of your scents mingling together now in a way that bubbles emotion deep in your chest.

You think that this is what people mean when they say making love.

Your back arches, fingers digging into him, tears spill over your temples and into your hair as you let your head rock back, “Alpha,” you whine.

Yunho moans above you, and he mutters something on his lips but you can barely hear it.

This time when your neck stretches long and open to them, you know they won’t hurt you. Mingi’s hand slides underneath to cup the top of your neck and the base of your head, his fingers mingling with Yunho’s in your hair.

“We’re here, omega,” Mingi murmurs low, “let go for us,”

A tight strained noise bubbles from your lips as the feeling builds.

“You’re safe,” Mingi soothes.

Yunho shudders a moan, and you feel the slow swell of his knot starting to bump against your slick hole. He’s desperately close but holding on as best he can for you to get there first.

Mingi directs his next words away from your ear, “Don’t stop, she’s nearly,”

Yunho makes a noise, and you feel his fingers grip down.

It hits you like a snap of fire, your limbs a shaking mess, and you cry out sharply and twist beneath them in the sheets, pleasure overtaking you until you think you may not be able to take a second more.

“Shh,” one of your alphas says, but you’re too far gone to know which.

You’re a mess, the orgasm seemingly never-ending, and you can feel the hot tears and hear the way you’re sobbing in pleasure but it’s disconnected and floaty.

Yunho’s hips start to slow and then you start to feel him pull back entirely and something deep inside you panics.

Snapping forward you wrap your arms harder around him and pull him back down, your brain too fuzzy to say anything more coherent than, “Knot,” you beg, “please,”

He folds back over you, shifting your hips up and open wider, and though you can see the brief flicker of hesitation in his eyes he starts to snap his hips harder into you, the steady click of your wet skin against his the only clear sound in the room.

His cock spearing you open is so much sensation you can’t focus on anything else, every connection of your bodies and kiss of his skin pushing an overstimulated moan from your lips.

Yunho’s close now, his hands tight, breath thready, and he gathers you closer to his chest until you’re cupped against his breastbone.

“S-she,” He chokes.

“She’s alright,” Mingi assures him, his hand still warm against your back.

He’s scared for you, still so concerned about hurting you or being too much for you, especially out of your heat and especially after everything. He doesn’t understand that this kind of need, this want for each other so wholly is healing parts of you that you didn’t know were broken.

You tug him closer, kiss his chest where’s you’re cradled, “Yunho,” you whine, “knot me, b-baby knot me, come,”

He collapses, hips thrusting hard and then you feel the sudden push of something wide, the stretch as it locks inside, and then the warm sensation of his release filling you.

Yunho’s still panting hot against your skin when you feel Mingi shift, pushing Yunho back from your body so he can see you. He finds your chin, pulling your face up gently to meet his.

Yunho responds too, the head rush of his own release fading enough that he can focus and his hands smooth back your damp hair, “Are you alright?” His voice is shaky, “Sweetheart, did I hurt you?”

“God, no,” You breathe.

Mingi slides down in the sheets while still gingerly holding your chin, trying to get a good look at your eyes, “Babe?”

“Hmm,” You blink, finding his face more clearly, “hey,”

“Hey,” He smiles, but you can still see an anxiety in him.

“What’s wrong?” Your head is finally starting to clear enough for you to realize that they don’t seem relaxed in post-coital bliss, they seem stressed.

He shakes his head a little, lost for something to say, but his wide hand slides up and his thumb brushes along your cheekbone to your temple, “You’re crying,” he murmurs, “you were crying,”

“I’m okay,” You shake your head, “I’m more than okay, I’m… it was so good, it was,”

Mingi sighs heavily, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder, “Oh fuck,”

Yunho presses a hard kiss to your forehead as he exhales his own relief against your hair. His knot starts to soften, and your hips naturally start to shift away to separate you, but with Yunho heavy above you it’s impossible.

“Easy,” He murmurs against your skin, and you hear him breath in sharply in a way that sounds like he’s pushing back his own tears, “let me,”

It takes a moment, but as soon as his knot is down enough he slides out of your slick channel. He drops to the side of the bed that Mingi isn’t occupying and drags up one of the blankets to cover the three of you.

Mingi stretches out beside you too, and in a moment you’re cuddled between them.

“Closer,” You tug them in. After that, you need to be absolutely enveloped in them.

They both shift in until all of your legs are tangled together, and Mingi brushes your cheeks again, “Babe,”

“I promise,” You reach up to brush away any lingering wetness under your eyes, “it was just overwhelming, but in the best way. I can’t explain,”

“It was,” Yunho agrees softly.

“I just,” You feel another bubble of emotion as you recall it, trying to understand how to articulate it, “it’s like I could feel you both so much closer, more than I could for my heat, more than…. I don’t know, I just realized that you’re really mine. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I…”

Yunho shakes his head, “We’re the ones who can’t believe we have you,”

You twist in the bed, wrapping your arms around Yunho and hugging him close, “I love you,” you kiss his lips, his cheek, “thank you for taking care of me,”

He softens, “Always,”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” You need him to understand, “but you made me feel so loved and so safe,”

Your hand reaches back to find Mingi so you can tug him closer still and he slides up to your back and wraps an arm around the two of you.

“Both of you,” You hold them close, “no one’s ever made me feel like this,”

Mingi nods against you.

You hold each other close, breathing in the same air for a few moments, no one willing to rush the comedown when it was as emotional as it was. You stretch long in the bed between them to ease the sensation back into all your limbs and Yunho’s eyes darken, flicking down to take in your naked body again.

He’s half hard again by the time you’ve relaxed into the sheets and you smile.

Mingi’s fingers stroke up and down the smooth plane of your abdomen, light enough to tickle.

“Again?” You ask, a little breathless.

“Mhm,” Mingi draws his hand down lower, teasing just a little with the tips of his fingers.

“God,” You shiver.

Yunho nods, “Definitely again,”

“Mm,” Mingi rolls his fingers over your clit, “next heat, we’ll both fuck you together, wouldn’t that be perfect, pretty girl?”

A distinct flicker of need passes through you at his words. You do want that. You want it so bad you shudder and moan, your fingers digging into Yunho’s chest.

You shake your head and push Mingi’s arm away, “We should try,”

“What, now?” For the first time you see him truly caught off guard.

“Please,” You nod, “we don’t need to wait, I want you both,”

Yunho’s hand smooths up and down your arm, “It might be too much,”

“So then we stop,” You counter.

Mingi wets his lips, thinking it through and then he nods, “I’m not knotting your ass,”

You blush.

“Today,” He adds, “but, okay, let’s try.”

“Who do you want where, baby?” Yunho’s fingers trace your jaw lightly.

“Um,” You look between them, a little dizzy at how quickly they agreed, how immediately this is about to happen, “I’m not sure,”

Yunho looks up, “You take her ass,”

Your core clenches and Mingi smiles at the blush in your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” Yunho rolls onto his back, “come right up here,”

Slowly you ease one leg over and settle yourself over his cock. You’re still dripping with slick and Yunho’s last release, and it makes the slide easy as you sink down and bury him right back where he belongs.

He exhales sharply, “Perfect,”

Mingi leans back, finding the bedside table and pulling out the drawer, searching for the lube he knows is there that he’s definitely going to need with you not in heat. When he comes back he’s still sitting next to you and Yunho but he faces you, and you’re about to ask why he’s not already behind you when he cracks open the top of the lube and applies some to his index and middle fingers.

“Oh,” You breathe softly.

He slides closer on his knees now and reaches around you, “Lean forward a little on Yunho,”

You do just as he asks, and Yunho brings his hands up to brace you at the ribs, making sure that he’s supporting you from below.

“Babe,” He kisses your shoulder, “outside of the heat with us, have you ever done this?”

His fingers slide slowly over the tight ring of muscle and you twitch, “Been d-double penetrated?”

Mingi laughs at your description and Yunho smiles up at you. Mingi shakes his head, “No, has anyone ever touched you here?”

He presses with his finger but doesn’t push in and heat floods up your belly, “Mm-mm” you manage.

“Have you ever played with yourself like this?” He finally starts to push in a digit and you gasp, “Ever put anything inside?”

“N-no,” You moan as he presses his finger in deeper.

“I thought so,” Mingi murmurs, “we need to take our time,”

“I can do it,” You insist, the idea that you might not get what you want after he teases you like this is actually torturous.

“Of course you can,” Yunho cups your cheek, “you’re our omega,”

Your cunt flutters and clenches around his cock.

Mingi withdraws his finger and this time when he presses back in, it’s with two.

Yunho strokes your skin softly, lazily drawing a line from your chest to belly and back up, “Our mate,” he adds, “you were made to take us,”

Your hips cant forwards, pushing down on Yunho’s pelvic bone for any amount of pressure and stimulation on your aching bud.

He groans, “God,”

Mingi pumps his fingers slowly.

Yunho refocuses your eyes on his, “We know you can take us both,” he offers, “but I think what Mingi is saying is that if you’ve never done anything like that, especially regularly, we need to go slow and prep you.”

“Oh,” You relax a little.

“Mhm,” Mingi dips his head and you turn to meet his mouth in a kiss, “just let us make you feel good first,”

“Okay,” You breathe against his lips.

“Yunho,” Mingi murmurs, not drawing his face away from yours.

“Yes,” Yunho hums, and he slides his hand lower.

“Come here,” Mingi sweeps his free hand up and down your arm, and you twist to wrap them around his shoulders, “good girl,”

Your hips roll at his praise.

He finds your lips again, but this time it feels like everything is in slow motion. He worships your mouth with hot, lazy kisses, his tongue against yours and his nose nuzzling into you. The kind of kissing people don’t have time for unless they’re exploratory teenagers or intentional tantric lovers. He gets you used to the slowness, all the while his fingers a still, solid weight inside you.

Yunho’s hands match the pace perfectly, his ability to read the scene and you both uncanny, and all he does is tease. His hands squeeze, slow and firm across your sweat slick skin. Thighs, hips, waist, a tantalizing squeeze to your soft belly. He finally reaches your mound but doesn’t do anything, just rests his hot hand at the top of your cunt and waits.

You’re panting against Mingi’s mouth, lost in the hazy array of their bodies and yours, no concept of what time it is or how many times you’ve really come so far, it’s just you and your alphas and this bed. You push up a little higher on your knees as the kisses get headier, and you hear Yunho hum beneath you, his cock physically twitching and throbbing in your hot channel.

With the slight position adjustment, both of your boys take the opportunity to change the playing field. In tandem they move, Yunho slides two fingers under you, one on either side of your clit and where his cock spears you open, and he just presses ever so slightly to increase the pressure. Mingi slowly pumps his fingers again, this time pushing into your ass noticeably deeper and separating his fingers on each thrust a little wider to start to scissor you open.

You’re trembling, that much is obvious from the way your thighs quiver, and you whine against the cushion of Mingi’s lips, the sound swallowed by his own hungry groan.

You feel Mingi’s free hand slide away from your upper back and he taps Yunho’s chest twice.

“Mhm,” He acknowledges softly.

You break the kiss, your forehead on Mingi’s, “Baby,”

Your words are swallowed up though, he dives in again for another kiss but this time they move their hands with purpose. Mingi pumps harder, a third finger squeezing inside and Yunho’s fingers slide up and press down perfectly over your slick clit. He rolls his fingers at a steady, even pace and pressure as Mingi opens you up further to him.

Hot pleasure spikes up your body and you moan hard, gripping down on Mingi’s shoulders.

“There you go,” Yunho says, his voice tight and low, “good girl, fuck yourself on my cock,”

You didn’t even know you were doing it, your mind so hazy with sensation but he’s right, your body started moving on its own, sinking up and down just enough on Yunho’s thick length that you could imagine both of them taking you properly.

“Oh, fuck,” Yunho curses, “look at you slicking all over me,”

You whine.

“So horny from Mingi playing with your pretty ass?” His voice husky.

“Oh!” You squeak as hot sensation spikes up your body, and you slip away from Mingi’s mouth to bury your face into his shoulder.

“Oh, yes,” Mingi groans holding you close with one hand while he fucks into you with the other, “so fucking tight, baby,”

“Fuck,” You cry.

“You really think you can take my cock?” He teases, scissoring his fingers again

You nod, whining, words completely inaccessible.

“She’s our girl,” Yunho praises, “aren’t you, baby?”

You choke out a moan.

“Say it,” Mingi prompts.

“I,” You shudder, jutting down with your hips to force more of Yunho inside you, “yes, I’m your girl,”

Mingi’s hot voice at your ear is your undoing, “Is our girl close?”

Your nails dig into Yunho’s chest.

“Is our girl going to come?” He nips at your ear and you see stars.

Your body jerks against Yunho, the slick drag of your clit against his fingers where they still press, trapped between your body and his, and Mingi grunts in your ear as he pushes his hand harder and faster. You tear into your orgasm with a scream, a cord snapping in your belly and leaving your body shaking from head to toe, and Yunho shifts you up and lets his cock spring free so he can stimulate you through the end, wetness coating your thighs from where you released again.

You whine when it starts to feel like overstimulation, and Yunho stops, his warm hand coming to cup your cunt as Mingi’s fingers slide out of your channel.

“Shh,” Mingi pets your back, “oh, baby, you’re okay, we got you.”

You’re a babbling mess, not even really conscious of what you’re saying until the arcs of pleasure fade and you’re left boneless and held between them.

Yunho hums appreciatively, “Incredible,”

“Uh-huh,” You agree weakly.

Mingi strokes you more, kissing your head, “You’re still shaking,” he squeezes you like he can’t get enough.

Blinking hard, the stars start to clear and you lift your head a little, “Did we make a mess?”

Yunho laughs, “Fuck yes we did,”

You ease yourself off of Mingi’s shoulders and he helps settle you to a seat straddling Yunho again, “Fuck, the sheets,”

“Are made for heats,” Yunho dismisses, “they’ll be fine, it’s not the last time we’ll be making you squirt,”

“Tonight,” Mingi chuckles, “if we’re lucky,”

“Fuck,” You shiver and laugh, brushing your hair back and shaking your head.

“What?” Mingi pokes you.

“I just didn’t expect you two to be so…” You can’t put your finger on it.

“So?” Yunho’s brows furrow.

You’ve had plenty of sex, some of it you would have considered very good sex, but this? It’s another level of pleasure and need that you didn’t know existed. It could be your scent match, it could just be them and how compatible you are together, but there’s no question that it’s distinctly different and distinctly better.

You search for the right words but land on, “Feral?” You smile, “Maybe?”

“There’s no use in being anything else when it’s us,” Mingi says matter of factly.

An ache settles inside you. Any shame you had about sex at all dissipates in your mind and you smile, “You’re right,” you move forward on Yunho’s thighs, “now will you please both fuck me?”

You sink back down on Yunho’s cock in one fluid motion and he moans, his hips jerking up into the cradle of your hips.

“Hi, baby,” You grind down to take every little inch.

“Hi,” He’s breathless, an almost dopey pleasured grin on his face.

“Mm,” You sigh, enjoying the deep warmth of his cock inside you, “you feel so fucking good,”

“Yeah?”

You nod, “I want you inside me all the time,”

“That can be arranged,” He chuckles, reaching up to draw you down closer to his chest, locking his lips on yours.

You hum warmly against him, rolling your hips softly, “You can have me anytime,”

His hands tighten on your arms, “Careful, baby,”

“You’d like that?” You tease him, nipping at his lip, “Sliding inside me whenever you want,”

He groans and uses his firm hands to stop any amount of movement, “If you want Mingi to be included in this at all, you need to stop with that mouth,”

“Fine, fine,” You concede and you settle down, you’ll just torture him another time since it seems like teasing him is a sure fire way to get him to lose his mind.

Mingi’s hand strokes your back and you glance over to him as he locates the bottle of lube and starts shuffling towards you both again on his knees.

“Ready?” He asks.

“I’ve been ready,” You didn’t mean to sound so needy, but you are and it’s obvious.

“Mhm,” Mingi murmurs, and then he’s sliding behind you.

He straddles Yunho’s legs, fully situated with his hips right behind yours, and you listen as the bottle opens and then closes, the wet sound of his hand slicking up his cock with lube.

“Tell me if you need to slow down,” Yunho murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, “I’m not moving until he’s in, okay?”

Nerves bubble through you suddenly, “Okay,”

The sound of him shifting on the sheets behind you spikes anxiety up your spine.

A heavy hand settles on one hip and your stomach tightens. Another passes up and down your spine and your breath feels suddenly tight and thready. His hand anchors on your shoulder for a moment, the tips of his fingers startlingly close to your pulsepoint and your heart starts to flutter faster.

You know it’s Mingi, of course it is. Yunho’s here in front of you, and that means it couldn’t be anyone but Mingi behind you, but something about your already heightened nerves at the new experience and the inability to see him has you scared.

Yunho’s studying your face, a second away from realizing where you are, but you pump the brakes first.

“Wait, stop,” You manage.

The hands on your body lift off.

You’re breathing a little faster than you should, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Hard stop?” Yunho asks quietly.

You shake your head and swallow back some of the sudden fear, “Mingi?”

“I’m here,” He assures.

You sigh, relief flooding through you and you let your head drop down onto Yunho’s chest.

“It’s me,” He soothes you, realizing immediately where your mind had gone, “it’s me and it’s Yunho, okay?”

“Yeah,” You exhale and nod, “I know, I just… for a second,”

It’s quiet for a moment, but then Mingi says, “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I touch you, or should we stop?” He’s so careful, so tender. Distantly you remember the moment in the locker room all those months ago, the way he had carefully protected you when he found you in heat, vulnerable and alone. The two men around you have done nothing but protect you, care for you, and seek not just consent but need from you before anything and everything you’ve done together and that realization makes your body soften.

“Yeah,” You reply, “you can, I’m okay,”

You expect his hands back on your hips, but instead you feel a hand on top of yours where you cling to Yunho, and then another on your opposite, Mingi’s fingers threading together with yours.

You blink your eyes open and stare at your combined hands. You know him, you know these hands. You study his rings, the silver ones he always wears, and the little scar on the side of his thumb.

“It’s me,” He gently strokes your finger with his thumb.

“Hi,” You breathe.

“Can you sit up for me?” He asks and you nod.

Both of them draw you up to a sitting position, still angled forwards a little over Yunho but this time where you brace Yunho’s chest, Mingi’s hands cover yours, fingers still intertwined.

“Look at Yunho,” Mingi shifts closer to your back, kissing your shoulder, “and I’m right here.” He punctuates his words with a squeeze to your hands.

“We’ve got you,” Yunho murmurs, “we’re here,”

“I’m ready,” You echo the sentiment from before, but this time you actually are.

Mingi drops his lips to your shoulder again and kisses you, “Just relax, breathe into it,”

The slippery head of his cock nudges your entrance.

Yunho reaches around your bodies and assists, helping to guide Mingi’s cockhead inside you while his hands are busy.

It’s nothing startling at first, just a bit of pressure and not unlike his fingers from before, but when the head of him catches inside, and Yunho drops back, then you start to feel it.

Pressure blooms into a stretch, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and you gasp.

“How do I feel, babe?” Mingi’s got to be holding himself steady with so much control.

“Good,” You manage, “it’s so…”

He pushes his hips forward a little more, opening you up as his cock starts to thicken.

“Fuck,” You squeeze his hands.

“Good?” He checks again.

You nod, but Yunho smiles below you, “You should see her face,” he murmurs.

“I knew it,” Mingi pushes in more, “I knew you could take us,”

You moan sharply, the heat of them both an insane combination that pushes any thought out except for the sensation between your legs.

“God,” Yunho finally groans beneath you, “are you in?”

“A-almost,” Mingi sighs hot against your skin, “j-just a little more,”

A little more? You can’t even imagine, but he thrusts a little more sharply this time to seat himself fully and you grip down on his hands. It burns a little, but fades just as fast as it comes, and now all you can feel is the tremendous fullness of the weight of them together inside you.

“This is,” You blink looking down and seeing Yunho’s pelvis pressed against yours, Mingi’s thighs caging you in from behind, “I d-don’t even know,”

Mingi shifts forwards a little, mostly to adjust his position but it pushes him the smallest amount deeper and you moan sharply. Yunho hisses beneath you, his hips pulsing just once and you feel the way his hands grip down hard on your plush thighs.

“Can you feel him?” You manage.

“Yeah,” Yunho pants, “it’s… this is insane,”

“I’m,” Mingi sighs against your back, “I need a second,”

“Too good?” Yunho smiles.

“Just…” Mingi grips your hands, “nobody move, I’ll come way too fast,”

Filled to the brim like this you’re desperate to move though, it’s all you want to do. You all stay as steady as you can, just the sound of each other’s heavy breaths as you all get your bearings, but in the end you start to move first.

With the smallest shift, you rock your hips once, grinding them further into you and against each other through the thin wall inside you, and you moan.

Mingi jerks.

“Please,” You murmur into the hushed room.

Yunho looks up to Mingi behind you and nods, “Slow,”

They move in sync, a slow drag out and push back in and after two strokes you think you’ll be addicted to them fucking you like this.

“Y-yes,” You roll back with your hips, fucking back into them, “more,”

Mingi drops his lips to your back and uses the position adjustment to snap his hips harder, “You need more?”

A spark of hot pleasure echoes through you and you whine, “Anything, do anything you want, just fuck me,”

“Good girl,” Yunho hums beneath you, and you feel him adjust his legs and brace his hands on the bed.

Your soul quite possibly leaves your body the second they start fucking you in earnest. All you can do is hold onto them now, both of their cocks stretching you open with every quick pulse of their hips. None of you are going to last long at this rate but you really don’t care.

“Oh, god,” You collapse lower onto Yunho’s chest, still gripping Mingi’s hands to ground yourself.

“You’re so fucking tight, omega,” Yunho groans, gritting his teeth.

“And warm,” Mingi nearly growls.

“Wet,” Yunho moans.

Your mind is dizzy and hazy and full of pleasured pops.

Yunho’s hand cups your cheek, drawing your unfocused eyes down to his. He’s checking you, you can see that, but the moment you smile he nods like he’s praising you, “How do we feel, jagi?”

“So good,” You whine, grinding down and back and pushing into the sensation, “I’m so fucking full,”

Mingi chokes out a moan behind you.

“That’s our girl,” Yunho nods again and thrusts a little harder.

A shudder of hot warmth echoes up through your body and you know you’re blushing hard for them, slick with sweat and need.

“Say it,” Mingi groans, “say you’re ours,”

“I’m all fucking yours,” The words come out in a rush, “I’m your omega,”

His hips stutter and you’re all starting to lose your grip. He pushes a little too hard, and you both collapse forwards. You’re a tangle of limbs now, your face pressed up against Yunho’s throat, Mingi pressed into every inch of your back. Two of your hands are still clasped together and bracing the bed above, but the other two have separated and you hold tight to Yunho with your free hand while Mingi holds your hip with his.

They both haven’t stopped despite the position change, both of them needy and close themselves, rutting into you again and again.

“Fuck,” You curse, a roll of pleasure up your body, “alpha, please,”

“Come,” Yunho chokes, “come on our cocks, baby,”

It slams into you, his words as good as a command when you fall apart into shaking moans, pleasure washing through you.

“That’s,” Yunho starts to say, but at the sensation of your walls clenching down around him he loses all control and thrusts up hard, his knot locking firmly in place as he pumps rope after rope of hot cum inside you. He’s shuddering too, an overstimulated hiss as Mingi keeps fucking into you.

“So tight,” Mingi breathes hot against your spine, “my perfect girl,”

“Oh, Mingi,” You grip his hand, pressing your eyes closed as your body is worked over, “baby, please,”

He sucks in a sharp breath, pulling free from your body with a whine, and you hear him stroke desperately fast until he knots in his hand and spills his release across your skin, painting your backside until it drips down your cunt to where you’re still locked together with Yunho.

You feel euphoric, an almost drug induced haze of bliss, and you nuzzle into Yunho’s throat to press little kisses along his gland, your tongue darting out to taste his scent.

He shivers under you, “Feeling good, baby?”

“Mhm,” Rich, wet earth, the crackling of air before a storm. You worm your way closer to him, breathing him in.

Mingi’s hand untangles from yours and he shifts himself back from the both of you to grab a towel and come back to bed.

“Shh,” Yunho murmurs, his knot softening so he can pull himself free, “it’s okay,”

You didn’t even notice you had whined to keep him inside, and you’re not in heat, but something about the experience felt transcendental and you’re not even bonded yet.

Mingi drops a towel over the bed and they both ease you over so you can lay on your back, but you pull Mingi down, needing to settle yourself more, “Alpha,”

“Hey,” He starts but you yank him down and snuggle into his neck too, soaking in the rich cocoa of his scent, “whoa, hey,” he laughs.

You lap a stripe up his throat and he sighs, his body softening delightfully under your touch.

“What’s this?” He murmurs, stroking your skin.

“Need you,” You explain, and that’ll have to be enough.

You move then on instinct, your omega close to the surface now as you seek out what you truly need. With a hand laced in Mingi’s hair you direct him, pushing his head down while you stretch your neck long, and setting his mouth directly over your gland.

You’re not afraid.

He hesitates, breathing you in for a moment, and then you murmur a please.

Mingi’s tongue traces your neck as he drinks in your scent, his kisses slow and reverent over your mating gland.

You reach up and find Yunho, not feeling complete until you have them both.

“You need me too?” Yunho settles at your side.

“Please,”

Mingi makes space until you’re flat on the bed with your head back, neck bared to them both. They scent you slowly, deliberately and with delicious care. They kiss your neck and suck softly at your pulse points, they drink you in until your head starts to clear. They scent you until there could be no question who you belonged to and whose bed you come back to every night.

You tumble into sleep just the same, your alphas on either side of you, bodies wrapped up so closely together you don’t know whose skin is whose, their lips softly at your throat, whispering their love like a prayer .

[j23r23]

That's my wife!

tangerine x wife reader

Waring: Violence and Fluff

BTW: Thank you @little-miss-dilf-lover for being my muse and making me write again 🍊🫶🏻🧡

Tangerine had never been one to keep his temper in check, especially when it came to you. The two of you had been in far worse situations, but today was different. The local police force had no idea who they were dealing with, and it didn’t help that they were handling you both like a pair of thugs.

The officer shoving you into the back of the police car had already crossed a line, his grip too tight, his attitude too arrogant and his hands touching you. But when the other one got rough with you, pushing you toward the vehicle with far more force than necessary and making you trip, something snapped in Tangerine.

“Oi, that’s my wife!” His voice cut through the commotion like a knife, fury lacing every word. Before anyone could react, he lunged forward, headbutting the cop who’d been forcing him into the car. The crack of bone against bone was unmistakable, and the officer staggered back, blood pouring from his nose.

Tangerine didn’t stop there. He turned with a wild intensity in his eyes, his curly hair disheveled, one strand falling across his forehead, giving him a feral look. With his hands cuffed behind his back, he couldn’t do much, but that didn’t stop him. He barreled toward the cop who’d been rough with you, and with another fierce headbutt, sent him sprawling to the ground, clutching his face in pain.

Blood now dripped down Tangerine’s forehead, his hair a mess of curls and sweat. He sniffed, a drop of blood running down to his upper lip before he spit, his saliva tinged with red, at the cop writhing on the pavement. There was a terrifying calmness about him as he turned to you, the fiery rage melting into something softer, more tender.

“You alright, love?” he asked, his voice gentle, as if he hadn’t just taken down two cops with nothing but his head. His eyes searched yours, worry etched in every line of his face.

Before you could respond, the other officers started to move in, their shouts filling the air as they surrounded the two of you. But in that moment, all that mattered was Tangerine. Despite the chaos, despite the fact that your hands were cuffed behind your backs, you stepped closer to him. He leand in as close as he could, and you buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his body on your cheek. His chin rested on top of your head, his breath coming in soft, reassuring huffs.

“I’m alright,” you murmured into his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

His kissed the top of your head, as if reassuring himself that you were really there, that you were safe. You look up wanting to kiss away his worry.

Just as your lips were about to brush his, the moment shattered. Rough hands yanked you backward, pulling you away from Tangerine before you could taste his lips. The separation was brutal the world that had narrowed to just the two of you expanded back out into chaos.

His eyes widened in fury as you were torn apart from eachother, and before either of you could protest, a cop shoved him roughly toward a separate squad car.

“Tangerine!” you called out, your voice cracking with desperation as he was pulled away. But before his name fully left your lips, a hand clamped down on your arm, yanking you back so brutally it felt like your shoulder might tear from its socket.

The violent pull sent you stumbling, nearly crashing to the ground. The cop jerked you upright, twisting your arm more with such force that pain shot through your entire body.

"Get the fuck off of her!" Tangerine roared, thrashing against the officers holding him, as he tried to get back to you. But they were too many now, and even he couldn’t fight them all off with his hands cuffed. You struggled too, your heart pounding in your chest, the grip on your arms unyielding, forcing you further away from him.

The last thing you saw before they shoved you into the back of a squad car was Tangerine being kicked into another vehicle, his eyes locked on yours with a look that promised he wouldn’t stop fighting until he got back to you. But then the door slammed shut, cutting off your view. The cold metal of the cuffs dug into your wrists as the car pulled away, the flashing lights reflecting off the windows as the city streets blurred by.

Your mind was spinning, back to Tangerine. You could only imagine what he was going through in the other car, his fury probably pushing him to the brink. You hoped he wouldn’t do anything too reckless—though, knowing him, that was probably a lost cause.

When you finally arrived at the precinct, they dragged you out of the car, your shoulder aching from the rough treatment. You were led through the fluorescent-lit corridors, the sound of your footsteps echoing against the linoleum floor. The air thick with the scent of sweat and cheap coffee. The officers, still on edge from Tangerine’s outburst, were rough as they took your fingerprints, mugshot and your personal belongings.

They put you in a holding cell, the bars cold and unwelcoming as they locked you inside. As you paced the small space, minutes felt like hours as you waited, your heart thudding with every creak of the building around you.

Then, finally, you heard a familiar voice outside the cell.

“What the hell have you two gotten yourselves into this time?”

Lemon’s tone was half exasperated, half amused, though there was an underlying concern that warmed you just a bit. A moment later, the door swung open, and there he was, looking far too calm for someone about to bail his brother and sister-in-law out of jail. His bright yellow jacket stood out starkly against the drab surroundings, like a ray of misplaced sunshine.

Lemon's exasperation clear on his face as he surveyed the mess that was your situation. His eyes softened when they landed on you, taking in the bruises forming on your arms and wrists.

“Alright, let’s get you out of here,” he sighed, pulling some strings with the Sergeant and sliding a few bills across the counter.

“They’re releasing him now,” Lemon said as he guided you out of the cell. “You’re lucky I got here when I did. Tangerine was about to start a riot in his cell...”

You followed Lemon through the station, the tension in your chest easing with each step. When you reached the front desk, you saw Tangerine standing there, still cuffed but very much alive, a bandage hastily slapped across his forehead and his shirt stained with dried blood. His curls even more disheveled than before, but you’d never been happier to see him.

“Lemon, about time, mate,” Tangerine grumbled, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, yeah, save it for later,” Lemon replied, rolling his eyes but clearly glad to see his brother in one piece. “You two are bloody hopeless, you know that?”

Tangerine ignored the jab. The moment his eyes met yours, his entire demeanor softened. He jerked his arms, clearly eager to get to you, but the officer behind the desk held onto his cuffs until the last possible second, as if hoping for one more reason to keep him locked up.

Finally, though, the metal restraints fell away, and Tangerine was free. He crossed the distance between you in a few quick strides. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms. He held you tight, like he’d never let go again, his lips brushing the top of your head in a silent promise.

“You alright?” he murmured, repeating the question he’d asked before everything went sideways.

“Now I am,” you whispered back, leaning into him as much as you could.

Lemon cleared his throat, making a show of looking anywhere but at the two of you. “Right, well, let’s get out of here before these idiots change their minds. We’ll deal with this mess later.”

With Lemon leading the way, you and Tangerine made your way out of the precinct, your fingers holding his as you walked side by side. As Tangerine pulled you closer, his arm slung protectively around your shoulders.

The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, the city buzzing around you as if nothing had happened.

[cc--2224]

I'll Show You Heaven

Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader

Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.

Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair

Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

Word Count: ~6.4k

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him. 

You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.

You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.

You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights. 

He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind. 

And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him. 

You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.

"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"

You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?" 

Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly. 

He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again. 

"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s. 

"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.

"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?

Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice. 

Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.

You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either. 

Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped. 

"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.

"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."

The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.

You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.

He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now. 

"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.

You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him. 

You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.

He hummed in response.

"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.

"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.

— — —

“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.

Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.

“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”

“Again,” Tech chimed in.

“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.” 

“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked. 

His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”

The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.

Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order. 

“No promises.”

He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.

This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.

But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him. 

The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave. 

Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him. 

He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth. 

He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow. 

He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.

He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs. 

As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you. 

This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.

He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.

But would it be so bad if you did? 

— — —

Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked. 

Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous. 

He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago. 

"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.

He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."

He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."

You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."

Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."

"Did the Reg apologize to you?"

"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.

"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.

"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."

He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."

Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.

"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?" 

"Crosshair." 

You smirked then told him yours. 

"Where's the rest of your squad today?"

"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."

He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.

You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.

"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours." 

You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.

Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.

You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both? 

You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.

— — —

Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home. 

It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.

You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you. 

"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.

"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."

He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.

"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."

He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-" 

Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.

You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.

He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.

"What are you doing?" 

"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."

He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."

"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.

"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.

"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."

He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."

"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."

"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.

"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”

He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.

“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.

He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.

“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.

He walked back over to you, “Of course.”

He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.

"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.

"You sure?" 

You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.

He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.

He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.

"Make yourself at home." You told him.

He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you. 

"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors. 

You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.

"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."

He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."  

"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"

"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."

You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.

"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.

"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs." 

You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it." 

His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.

"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.

"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”

His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline. 

He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.

Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind. 

Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.

His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.

His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.

He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.

"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere. 

You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs. 

You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.

He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.

"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."

His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."

"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."

"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la." 

You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life. 

When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.

He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you. 

When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.

He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.

"Come here," you said, your voice low.

He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.

"Closer." You breathed. 

He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.

"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.

"Yes, please, Crosshair." 

He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.

You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left. 

He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.

He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.

Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.

"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.

"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.

"G-good boy, keep... keep going." 

His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.

His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.

"Say it again." He said against your centre.

"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.

"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.

"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.

He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.

You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.

You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.

"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want." 

He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.

His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.

"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."

He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.

Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.

"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."

His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.

It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.

He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.

He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.

“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.

He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.

“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?” 

“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”

His cock twitched against his jeans.

“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.

“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.” 

Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain. 

You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.

“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.

Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.

You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.

“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.

You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.” 

You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”

Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air. 

“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out. 

“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.

You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.

He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch. 

You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out. 

“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.” 

You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes. 

You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.

His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.

“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..” 

You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.

“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants. 

You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips. 

He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.

He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust. 

“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.” 

You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.

His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue. 

“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.” 

His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.

His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.

“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.” 

He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.

You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.

“You gonna be good for me?” 

He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.

“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.

Heaven. 

That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you. 

Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth. 

You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down. 

“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you. 

He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in. 

You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.

“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.

“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.” 

You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him. 

His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts. 

“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.

His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.

“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.

“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”

You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.

“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts. 

He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.

“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”

The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.

“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”

“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.” 

His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.

“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.

He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.

Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you. 

“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release. 

You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.

“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.

“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.

“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.

“Please.” 

He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.

“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.

“Hm?”

“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”

You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.” 

He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.

“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.

“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”

You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.

[shadow4-1]

Hi! Idk if you take requests, but if you do I was wondering if I could request a 141 x reader where they're on a mission and at some point a grenade gets thrown at them and they don't have enough time to run away so reader pulls a Steve Rogers and throws herself onto it to prevent the damage done to the rest of the squad? If not that's totally fine too, ik it's kinda sad lol. Btw I love your writing it's super good, especially the 141 x shy reader. 💕

I like this idea! It's very heroic and a lil' sad. And, to be quite frank, would've been a much more heroic way for Soap to have gone out in MW3! Here's my take on this prompt:

Shit. Shit. Shit.

How the hell are you going to do this?

Gaz is alive but unconscious, Ghost is on his knees, and Soap is face down in a pool of subway grit. You can't hear, you know your eardrums are blown out from the blast. Price dashed off after Makarov.

On shaky ankles you step around the bodies of friend and foe alike. You can feel the atmosphere bend with the whiz of bullets but you can't hear them shattering the checkerboard tile.

You manage to get over Soap first. He's breathing. He's really fucking heavy too, all dead weight and limp. With all of your adrenaline strength you manage to brute force him over onto his back. He's got some shrapnel in his jaw and littered all over his kit, but nothing too visibly deep.

There's a hand on your shoulder. It's so heavy it nearly brings you down to the floor. You scream, but you can't hear it, only feel the vibration in your chest.

It's Ghost. His eyes are wide, bloodshot, and completely crazed. You can't tell if he's talking because of his mask. He's still on his knees, and his body dips to the side before he rights himself with a jerk. You know your Lt. well enough to know something is seriously wrong with him, but he's conscious, and therefore not your top priority.

Gaz is.

You glance over at your other team member. He's slouched over against a pillar. He's barely awake with eyes rolling and lips bloody. You make a mad dash over to him. You trust Ghost will take care of Soap to at least get him to safety.

You feel more bullets bending around you but it doesn't matter. You're probably hit already and you just can't feel it. Your boots lose purchase in some grime and you slip. You crawl the last few feet to Gaz. He doesn't see you or focus on you even as you fill up his vision.

You try to mutter something to him but you can't hear it and you doubt he can either.

The entire subway platform vibrates. You can feel the rattling of a train whoosh by behind you. You really hope Price caught Makarov. Just as the train passes you by you feel another explosion. Hot air blows down the tunnel followed by a red glint.

Oh no.

You wrap your arms tight around Gaz's neck and pull him down to the floor. He coughs up blood tinged saliva onto your vest. You tuck your body around him, cradling his head against your chest. You realize he's missing his hat as you press your face against the crown of his head. One of his hands weakly grabs at the side clasp of your vest.

For that last moment before disaster strikes, you desperately hope he has no idea what's going on.

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer. 

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.    

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.” 

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him. 

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.” 

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said. 

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?” 

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.” 

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant. 

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again. 

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.” 

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!” 

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped. 

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.” 

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?” 

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.” 

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?” 

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”  

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight. 

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s.  “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!” 

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning. 

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while. 

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk. 

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows. 

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.  

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.” 

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand. 

Just what was happening? What had you done? 

Eywa, it had to be sky people. 

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind. 

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline. 

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known. 

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought. 

It was mom. 

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix. 

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you. 

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off. 

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father. 

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point. 

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that. 

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches. 

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you. 

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.  

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”  

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin. 

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired. 

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life. 

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word. 

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain. 

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right. 

Got an ikran for nothing. 

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it. 

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone. 

A ticking time bomb. 

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful. 

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction. 

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know. 

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way. 

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.    

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety. 

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves. 

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily. 

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to.  “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you. 

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories. 

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony. 

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it. 

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.” 

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!” 

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air?  “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry. 

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute. 

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.    

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.   

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance. 

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking. 

And you fulfilled his wish. 

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily @n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

[httpsghostie]

I’m a new follower but I literally so obsessed it’s unhealthy. Like it’s to the point where I just daydream about the fics you wrote.

My birthday is coming up, and my dirty mind is restless.

I am not requesting a whole fic, maybe a Drabble about female reader with König and Ghost 🤭 and they find out it’s her birthday 🤭 and give her a very… big… birthday present. 😏😏😏. I am sorry 😂

(If anything makes you uncomfortable please ignore this.)

Big fan,

Love you. ❤️❤️

Birthday Gift

honestly? no words, we're the same

btw happy birthday!!!! wish you the best (by that I mean I hope you find yourself between ghost and könig)!! ilyyy <33

this is so filthy why am I like this

hope you enjoyyy!

Summary: it's your birthday and your friends want to give you a big present.

Word Count: 1,8k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader x König, unprotected piv and dvp sex (dont b silly wrap your weenie), breeding kink, lots of pet names, no use of y/n

masterlist

On a typical morning of work, you found yourself casually having breakfast with Price. It wasn't common for him to be around for more than ten minutes, so you just enjoyed a little bit of bonding with your captain, who almost always treated you like a long distance daughter.

"You're gonna get older in a few days." He started, sipping his coffee. "Excited?"

"Yay, minus one year!" You cheered playfully and he chuckled. He was the only one in the squad who knew your birthday anyway.

As he finished his plate, he grabbed his hat from the table and excused himself off, and you followed your day with the chores you were assigned to.

A few days passed by and it was finally your big day, and you were woken up in the middle of the night by your teammates knocking on your door. As you sleepily opened the door, you couldn't hold back a smile.

They were in party hats, and Soap was in the middle, holding a definitely homemade cake, telling you to make a wish. You chuckled at the sight, a little bit of the pink icing simply falling on his finger. You closed your eyes and blew the candles, and they invited themselves in.

They thought of everything, they were able to sneak a few plates, forks, cups, soda and especially the cake into your room without disturbing any other soldiers. You all sat in a circle on the ground and ate the cake, giggling and chuckling quietly like you were all teenagers in a sleepover. Slowly they went back to their rooms, leaving you, Ghost and König behind.

They looked at each other nervously, and you couldn't comprehend what they were trying to telepathically communicate, mostly because emotions couldn't be displayed over the fabric that covered their faces. Ghost wore a simple black balaclava and König wore his usual t-shirt hood.

"So…" Ghost cleared his throat in annoyance at König's obliviousness. "We have a present for you."

"If you want." König added.

"If you want." Ghost sighed and rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"I mean- I do, what is it?" You chuckled in confusion, looking at them.

Ghost clears his throat and slowly gets up from the floor you were all sitting on. König follows his lead and they both stand towering over you. You get on your knees to get up too, but König's hand gently presses your shoulder back down.

"You know," Ghost starts untying the knot of his sweatpants and pulling them down together with his boxers, enough to expose his already hard member, "we just didn't have the time to wrap it."

He placed the tip on your lips and slowly pushed himself inside your mouth. What the fuck was happening? You thought to yourself, but you weren't mad, though.

König got rid of his clothes, tapping his dick on your face, and you pulled away from Ghost with a pop, jerking him off. Your lips met with the precum seeping out of König's tip.

"Been dying to know how those pretty lips feel around my cock." He said between gritted teeth as he entered your mouth slowly.

You bobbed your head up and down, trying to take the most you could, but they were so big. Ghost held your hand firmly around his cock and slowly fucked your fist as König held your hair in a ponytail so it didn't fall on your face.

You pulled away once again and sucked Ghost eagerly, gagging when he brushed his dick in your throat. Your hands jerked König off at the same speed you bobbed your head.

König couldn't contain himself anymore, he needed to be inside of you, he needed to stretch you out. He picked you up and threw you on the bed, taking your pants off instantly. Ghost took his clothes off, and then your shirt, and positioned himself beside you, one of his hands holding the back of your knee to spread for König.

The austrian man spared no time to go down on you, his tongue swirling around your already wet folds. He moaned into your clit as he masturbated, imagining how tight you'd feel, Ghost watched as you moaned under him. His tongue worked magically, and you lost it when he inserted two fingers inside of you.

But he was impatient, he only did that for you to grow used to his not so subtle size. He towered over you and lined himself with your entrance, pushing it deep inside and holding your legs around his waist.

“Bet she’s fucking tight, eh?” Ghost murmured, lost in the heat of your pussy swallowing such a fat cock. He got closer to you, his dick hovering over your face. You licked a long strike from his balls to his extremity, and took him all in your mouth. Your hand grabbed his thigh as he was kneeling beside you, and signaled for him to define the pace. “What a slut, huh? Want me to fuck your mouth, is that it?” He growled in his thick accent.

You nodded anxiously, the feeling of being stuffed almost too overwhelming. He fucked your mouth ruthlessly, inevitably making you choke and gag, drooling all over yourself. König watched as you had fun on Ghost’s cock and buried himself deep into your cervix, mercilessly pounding into you.

“You take us so well, liebling.” He whined, holding your hips firmly. You couldn’t help but moan at the sudden roughness, but your moans were muffled as your mouth was filled. Ghost’s hand traveled to your clit, where he started to draw circles and rip a few more cries from you. König held your thighs against you and railed whatever thoughts you had on your brain.

“Be a good girl ‘n cum for us.” Ghost demanded as he pulled away from your mouth and you were finally able to gasp for air. König’s thrusts combined with Ghost’s hand stimulating your clit were too much to take, and the knot inside of your stomach rapidly increased.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” You whined pathetically, and they didn’t stop. König reached a spot you didn’t even know he could, and you weren’t able to hold it anymore, orgasming on his dick and clenching around him.

“There you go, engel.” König said, pulling out. He caressed your fucked out face and lifted his hood to plant a kiss on your lips, that turned into him sucking and biting your neck.

Ghost grabbed you from the waist and flipped you over, pulling you by the hips and brushing the tip of his cock all around your vulva. König sat down in front of you and jerked his throbbing length slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. Something about his innocent eyes behind that mask was so sexy. Ghost entered your abused hole and gave you a second to adjust, he wasn’t as big as König, but he was far from average too. Everything about them was far beyond average.

The soothing touch of Ghost’s hands on your ass were soon washed away when he started to fuck you viciously, digging his nails on your flesh. König also impatiently grabbed your hair and made you suck on his cock, one hand holding the base of it. He didn’t push you, instead he held your head firmly and bucked his hips up in order to fuck your mouth. You looked at him with innocent eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“‘M gonna use this pretty cunt of yours as my fucking toy.” Ghost muttered in a husky voice. “Show me how needy you are.” He gripped your hips so strong you swore it would bruise. He slammed his weight on you relentlessly, your moans vibrating on König’s cock.

“That’s it, hase, ‘feel so fucking good.” König whimpered.

The sounds in your room were unholy, the air was filled with lust and sex, and you felt another climax approaching. König pulled you up, manhandling you to straddle his lap, and made you sit on his shaft. You whined at the sudden loss of Ghost’s dick and the denial of your orgasm, but gladly bounced on König, your ass jiggling up and down. Ghost came right behind you, lining himself with your pussy and thrusting hard into you, making you feel even more filled, if that was even possible.

“Look at this,” Ghost said, “taking two cocks in your pussy.” You moaned in response, your forehead laying against König’s chest. “Tell us the truth, you’ve been dreaming about this, don’t you?” Your eyes meet König’s, and you nod. His head falls back and he rolls his eyes. “I asked you a question.” Ghost chokes you firmly, raising your chest.

“Yes, fuck.” You whimper, closing your eyes as another wave of heat clashed against your bruised flesh. “I’ve been needing this for way too long.” He smirks.

“Don’t tell me.” He says in a low and cocky tone. “That’s why you stare at us like there’s no tomorrow, huh?” He said in between breaths. 

The heat of an orgasm hits you again, and you cry out in pleasure, legs trembling as König holds your thighs firmly and looks deeply in your eyes.

“I can’t…” You manage out a moan. “Too much…” Your brain was melting at this point.

“Shh, hase, didn’t you say you wanted this?” König pleaded. “Shut up and take your birthday gift. It’s not our fault that you’re a needy whore that won’t stop coming on our cocks.” Ghost widens his eyes at the sudden words of the impatient König beneath you, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed, cheeks painted red with shame. König whined, digging his nails even deeper on your hips, desperately trying to reach his high. “Want my cum inside you?” 

You press your lips together, feeling sweat dripping on your spine as Ghost holds your arms on your sides, and you nod. He inserts two fingers in your mouth, smiling when you gag on them. And he comes. You feel the warm seeds filling your pussy as he pulls out, leaving Ghost to chase his climax alone, fucking his cum back into your walls.

He unexpectedly pulls out and grabs a fistful of your hair as he gets up and stands in front of you, his cock already coated with König’s cum. He jerks himself relentlessly in front of you until he cums on your tongue, his head falling back and rolling his eyes. You swallow his bitter cum and suck him a few more times.

“Well, happy birthday.” He says, lifting the mask and giving you a peck on your sweaty forehead.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Hey could I get an Angsty fic with wife Olivia Benson/Emily Prentiss (which ever you want) where the reader is a detective/profiler and gets hurt badly and Emily/olivia are the ones to find them and they have to keep them awake until the paramedics get there?

You can pick the injury

Hey @yanginginthere! 😊 It's been a minute since I wrote for Olivia, so that's what I did here! Hope you enjoy! –illdowhatiwantthanks

Eyes Open

Olivia Benson x fem!reader Warnings: MAJOR BIG HUGE WARNINGS for gun violence/school shootings, blood, death, etc., medical emergencies, near-death situation, hospitals, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.0k

Summary: When the rest of the squad is hesitant to enter the scene of a school shooting, you make one of the rashest decisions of your life--one you might not come back from. Your wife, Olivia, races to get to you in time.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you thought as you watched blood pour from your abdomen. You were on the ground before you knew what was happening, before you could evaluate the situation. You pressed your hands over the gunshot wound, trying not to think about how much blood was seeping between your fingers.

You glanced around the room, panicked, nearly sick to your stomach. The racetrack rug, the little cubbies, the bodies. You wretched and vomited before collapsing onto your back. Your partner, Mendoza, lay on the opposite side of the room, pale, wide-eyed, still. Dead. He was dead. You swallowed back tears. Now was not the time to cry.

The shooter’s blood had sprayed across the bookshelves when you shot him. You couldn’t get close enough to feel for a pulse, but he wasn’t moving. So he was at least incapacitated. What you needed was to call for backup, to get the rest of the cowards from the NYPD–the ones who sat outside to wait for backup while you could hear children screaming–to get their asses in here and help. You and Mendoza had gone in against orders, had ignored a direct command from a superior officer to wait for backup. And, god knows, you’d both paid for it, but if even one child made it out that wouldn’t have otherwise, it would be worth it.

You felt for your radio at your side and groaned when you realized it had been shot by the same bullet that was now lodged inside of you. Your vision was starting to grow fuzzy; it was only a matter of time until you passed out. And who knew how long until backup finally decided to enter the elementary school?

You heard movement and jerked your head to the side to see the very top of a small head poking out from the supply closet.

“Hey!” you shouted, crying out in relief. The child shrank back, and you called, “No, no, no, it’s okay! It’s okay. I know it’s scary. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m a police officer. I’m here to help you. That man with the gun, he can’t hurt you anymore. But I need your help. Do you think you could come out here and help me?”

The boy poked his head out again, a little bit farther, and you could see that his face was tear-stained, covered in snot. Your heart broke for him. You wanted to cry. You hated to traumatize him further, but you also knew that if you didn’t get backup and EMTs in here as soon as possible, more people were going to lose their lives–including you.

“Hi, honey,” you said as he stared at you, wide-eyed. “My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?”

He sucked in a breath, then shakily replied, “Arturo.”

You nodded. “Arturo. That’s a nice name. You’re being really brave, sweetheart. Is there anyone else in there with you?”

He nodded his head.

“How many people?”

Arturo held up five fingers.

“Five?” you asked, trying to focus your eyes.

He nodded.

“Are there any grown-ups?”

His face screwed up, like he was about to cry, and he shook his head.

“Okay, honey. That’s okay. Listen. Arturo, we need to call for help so the other police officers and the ambulance drivers can get in here and help everybody. Okay?”

He didn’t respond. You pointed to your busted radio. “My walkie talkie broke, but my partner’s should still work. He’s right over there… just–” You shuddered. God, you were having a child grab a device from a dead body. This poor kid. All these poor kids. But you didn’t know what else to do. “Just don’t look at his face or anything,” you told him. “The walkie talkie on his belt, that’s what we need. Can you do that for me, Arturo?”

He shook as he stood, and you could tell he’d wet himself in fear. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched him wobble toward Mendoza’s body. “You’ve already been so brave, buddy, I just need you to be brave a little bit longer.”

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to fight the dizziness that swam inside your head.

“It’s stuck,” Arturo whimpered, and you snapped your eyes open.

“Okay, buddy,” you said, wracking your brain for a solution. “That’s alright. Umm… there’s a little button on the side, do you see that?”

Arturo nodded, his fingers wet with Mendoza’s blood.

“Alright, just press the button and hold it down, and then repeat what I say. Okay, Arturo?”

“Okay,” he whimpered, holding his little hand against the radio.

You exhaled sharply, as the pain in your abdomen surged. “Say, This is Officer Y/L/N.”

He repeated it, looking at you with wide, scared eyes.

“Badge number 11227.”

You gulped as your vision blurred, trying to be as concise as possible.

“Shooter is down. Officers down. Requesting immediate backup and medical assistance.”

You could feel your body falling out of consciousness, could hear Arturo talking to the other officers through the radio, but it was far away, as if you were in a tunnel.

“Please help,” he cried, fresh tears running down his cheeks. “She’s not talking anymore.”

The last thought you had before blacking out was that your wife would kill you if you died.

“Clear!” Olivia shouted, moving from classroom to classroom at PS 717, gun at the ready. The rest of the officers stopped as needed to help evacuate children and school staff, to give first aid as needed, but she and Elliot were single-minded. They had one job, and she had insisted it be theirs as the NYPD prepared to enter the scene: find the shooter and confirm that he was down.

The last person they had heard from was you. Well, a little boy who had your name and badge number and said all the right things and, therefore, was presumably with you. She was furious with you, furious that you’d gone in without backup, furious that you were so goddamned good and brave, that you would be willing to sacrifice your life for these kids, even though it was one of the things she loved most about you. And, truthfully, underneath all that fury was just plain fear. Absolute terror. Where were you?! Obviously you were hurt if you couldn’t call in yourself. And, from the sound of it, it had been you who took down the shooter.

“Liv!” Elliot yelled from a classroom down, and she sprinted toward him, her heart in her throat. Elliot was already on the radio: “We need medical here stat! East wing of the school, fourth classroom on the right. We’ve got two officers down, shooter down, multiple civilian casualties.”

Olivia burst into the classroom, her eyes quickly taking in the damage: Mendoza down, shooter down, kids crying in the corner, civilians down, and you. Her heart was in her throat as she holstered her gun and dropped to your side.

“No, no, no, baby,” she cried, cradling your limp head and feeling for a pulse. “Stay with me, sweetheart. You are too damn stubborn to go out like this.” Your pulse was thready and weak, as was your breath. She brushed your hair out of your face, trying hard to keep herself breathing, to not fall apart, not yet. She smacked you lightly on the face until you coughed and blinked your eyes open.

Olivia let out a sob of relief and caressed your face, pressing her free hand on top of yours to stifle your bleeding.

“Liv?” you groaned. Then weakly pointed in the direction of the shooter. “Is he…”

“He’s down, baby, he’s dead. You got him.”

You coughed again and winced, your body shaking with cold or trauma or both. “Arturo?” you asked, glancing around for him.

“The little boy?” she clarified. You nodded. “He’s safe, he’s okay. He’s with Elliot.”

Your body started to shake more violently and it was if, finally, the terror of the day had caught up with you. Tears streamed down your face. Your skin was clammy and your breath came in short huffs. You weren’t stupid. You knew what they meant, all the signs in your body: hypovolemic shock. You’d lost too much blood. You were dying.

You’d like to say that, in what you assumed were your dying moments, your life flashed before your eyes, that you thought of everything you’d experienced and everything you’d not yet been able to. But, honestly, you were just scared. And sad to leave Olivia.

“I love you,” you choked out as your eyelids fluttered between open and shut.

“No, no,” Olivia protested, grasping your face in her hands. “Don’t you fucking say goodbye to me, Y/N. This is not fucking goodbye! You keep your eyes open, Officer. That’s a direct order!”

And you really did try. You really did fight to keep Olivia’s face in front of you, her terrified, tear-stained face. You just couldn’t bear to leave her, not like this.

When you finally lost consciousness, Olivia yelling your name was the last thing you heard.

You woke up god knows how much later in a hospital bed, with several wires attached to you and an ungodly amount of pain in your abdomen, not to mention a mouth so dry it felt like your tongue had been left to dehydrate.

Before you knew what was happening, Olivia’s lips were on yours, her hands grasping the side of your face so tightly you thought there was a good chance she might never let you go.

“You fucking asshole,” she cried, her tears wet against your skin. “You almost died!”

She kissed you a few more times for good measure, then leaned back to look at you, your own tears streaming now. She sniffled and wiped your eyes, smiling even as she cried. “Why do you have to be so goddamned brave, huh?”

You shrugged, then winced. “No, no, don’t move!” she exclaimed. “Just… let yourself rest, okay?” She shook her head. “You really scared me.”

“I’m sorry, love,” you croaked out. You blinked tears away and looked at the ceiling, trying hard to banish the mental images of Mendoza, of the blood, of the civilians. “I just… I couldn’t…”

“I know,” she said, taking your hand. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

You coughed and frowned at her. “You better fucking not.”

She pointed to the table next to your hospital bed, stacked with cards and flowers. “You’ve got quite a lot of fans now.”

You shook your head. You didn’t deserve fans. If anyone deserved the recognition, it was Mendoza. You tried not to think of him, knew you’d start crying if you did.

“Here,” Olivia said, holding out a folded sheet of paper. “Read this one. It’s good.”

There was a stick-figure drawing of you as a superhero and a messy, misspelled note:

Dear Ofiser Y/L/N, thak you so much for helpig me be brav and for gettig the bad gy. Yor my heero. Arturo Guerrero.

Your eyes were swimming by the time you finished reading it. You should be the one thanking him.

“The NYPD’s giving you a Medal of Honor, too, when you’re well enough. You’re a hero, honey,” Olivia said, tracing your cheekbone with her thumb. “A dumb, brave idiot of a hero. But my hero, all the same.”

You didn’t know how you felt about this hero business, didn’t feel like you deserved it. You’d just done your job. And your job required a bit more of you this time around.

“Liv,” you ventured, uncomfortable.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Please don’t call me that.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “A hero?”

You nodded.

“What should we call you then?”

You smiled wryly. “Just Y/N.”

Olivia leaned forward to brush your hair out of your face, staring lovingly at you. “How about love of my life?”

You smiled and squeezed her hand. “Yeah. That’ll do.”

[dindjarindiaries]

Reckoning

summary: When you and Hunter are left at Hemlock’s mercy, you fight your hardest to avoid becoming the scientist’s cruel bargaining chip.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: angst, torture, injuries & blood, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort

rating: T

word count: 3.620k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

When you came to, your body ached with pain, drawing a breathless gasp from you that only made the pain worse. You ground your teeth and tried to hold a hand against the sharp pang in your side, but your wrists were cuffed together. At least one rib was broken, no doubt, and if you were lucky, it was just the one.

The only thing stronger than the pain was the rush of memories that hit you all at once.

You, Hunter, and Wrecker had been running at Crosshair’s demand, only to have your path cut off by a shuttle raining down blasterfire upon you. That had put Hunter out of commission—you still felt sick at the mere image of him lying there limp—and Wrecker had urged you to stay behind him while he grabbed Hunter.

But it wasn’t long before they stopped the three of you, and all you could remember was something hard hitting your side before things went dark.

Biting back your whimpers of pain, you forced yourself to sit up and look around. The cell you were in was small and fit with nothing to make it sustainable for a long-term stay. You were being kept here for a reason.

And worse, you were alone.

A thousand questions ran through your mind all at once, all too dizzying to sort through. The most prominent ones slammed against your temples repeatedly and worsened the ache that was already present. Has Omega been freed? Is Echo okay? What happened to the squad?

Did Hunter ever wake up?

You had no time to process these thoughts. You were still gathering your bearings when a series of shadows stood in front of your cell door. It was someone who was flanked by a clone commando and a group of troopers, someone whose face alone made your lips twist into a disgusted snarl.

“You’re finally awake.” Hemlock was just as smug as both you and your nightmares had remembered him. You lifted your chin as he opened the cell door and took the liberty of stepping even closer to you. “Now, you can at last do your part.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Whatever he was planning on doing with you was hardly your biggest concern. “Where are they?”

Hemlock looked back to nod at two of the troopers, who approached you and grabbed your arms tight enough to bruise them. They forced you to stand on your feet, and you swallowed back a pained groan at the sharp jolt in your ribs.

“All in due time.” Hemlock smirked at you. If you weren’t cuffed, you would have smacked that grin right off his lips.

But there was another question he needed to answer. “Where is she?”

You were shocked to see Hemlock’s expression falter for a moment. A victorious amount of hope swelled in your chest as you laughed out an incredulous breath.

“You don’t know where she is, do you?”

The smirk was somehow back. “Like I said, all in due time. For now…” he turned back around and glanced at you over his shoulder, “you’ll serve your purpose.”

Hemlock walked ahead, and the troopers tightened their grasps even more to make you do the same. You fought them, but only for a moment, as your first jerking movement brought that sharp, breathless pain to your side. You wanted to curse your own broken body for putting you out of commission.

As Hemlock and his guards led you through the twisting corridors of Tantiss, you wanted to pester him about whatever “purpose” he had for you, but there was no point. His arrogant all in due time was already playing over and over again in your head, and that was exactly the response you would get. Instead, you dedicated whatever clarity your mind had left to making a plan of escape and rescue.

You eventually saw your destination down a longer corridor. It was a dead end, with only one door awaiting you. There was nothing around to help you identify what could be on the other side of it, with only more bland, gray walls closing you in.

But then you heard the pained screaming before you had even reached the door. No one else had to tell you whose it was.

You pulled back hard on the troopers’ grasps, your sudden adrenaline masking the stabbing pain in your broken ribcage. They shoved you ahead, and as hard as you tried to conceal the shaky panic in your voice, it was no use. “No. Take me back.” You sat back to no avail yet again. “Take me back!”

Hemlock chuckled as you closed the distance to the door. He was laughing.

“I won’t do it! Whatever you’ve schemed, I won’t do it!”

Hemlock stopped just in front of the door, forcing you to listen to the agonized wails from within as he looked at you with his usual smirk. “You’re not in a position to bargain.”

The door opened, and the screaming got louder. Your chest tightened so much that it stole the breath from your lungs as you saw the blue flashing light just ahead, and the person who was trapped at the center of it. Hunter.

Hunter, who had been named for the way he could sense everything—feel everything.

“Stop.” The desperate word left your lips before you could stop it. Your fight or flight had kicked in, and your rationality had vanished. “Stop it. You’ll kill him!”

You were forced down to your knees in the center of whatever kind of sickening lab you were in, and your pleas were unsurprisingly ignored. Your eyes squeezed shut and your chin stayed tucked into your chest as the screaming went on, and on, and on…

It was torturing you almost as much as it was torturing him, and there was no doubt Hemlock knew that.

Then, it stopped. You exhaled your own breath of relief as your head snapped up to observe Hunter. He was dazed at best, his brow lifted in an exhaustion you had never seen from him before. His gaze found Hemlock first before it lowered to you, and even amongst the unimaginable agony he was experiencing, it was easy to identify the bright light in his brown eyes.

“You’re… alive.” Hunter’s voice was light and airy, as if all the energy had been drained from him—but his relief was palpable.

You wanted to cry at your own relief and despair, but you wouldn’t give Hemlock the satisfaction. He had gotten enough from you already.

“That could change.” Hemlock delivered the threat as if it was nothing more than a simple fact. 

No later did the troopers at your sides stick the barrels of their blasters against your neck, though you refused to waver. You kept your chain raised high, your stare remaining in Hunter’s even as his eyes widened in a panic that made you ache.

“You must choose carefully, Sergeant.” Hunter’s stare went beyond you as he no doubt focused his lethal glare onto the scientist. “The fate of your squad and…” a brief, amused chuckle, “your lover depends on it.”

Your own eyes widened at that. How could he have possibly known that?

“Last we spoke, I expressed my shock at a clone’s paternal nature. But I was missing the full picture.” A hand grabbed your head from behind and forced it backwards, making you gasp in surprise as it was held there. Hemlock’s voice was right by your ear, now. “You simply enjoy taking in strays.”

His words couldn’t, and wouldn’t, hurt you, but the hatred in Hunter’s eyes spoke for the both of you. “Choose… your next words… carefully.” He still wasn’t strong enough to speak normally, even though it was clear that he was trying to. His right hand was pulled tight into a fist.

Hemlock huffed and released your head, causing it to fall forward. You recovered quickly, sparing a quick glance around the rest of the room. Wrecker and Crosshair were there, too, but they weren’t awake and were being left alone—for now.

“I like your spirit, CT-9901.” Hearing Hunter reduced to his CT number made you want to spit at Hemlock’s feet, though he was still behind you, concealed from sight like the coward he was. “That’s why you’re still alive. But you’ll have to comply if you intend on staying that way.”

This time, his hands fell onto your shoulders. You jerked in a vain attempt to get them off, but he tightened his grip, only adding to the pained whimper you released when your ribs reacted to the movement. Hunter’s jaw tightened.

“You wouldn’t want to die in front of them, would you?”

Your breath caught in your throat at that. You lowered your stare, your mind once again flooded with the horrid image of Hunter lying limp outside Tantiss’ fortifications. But this wasn’t about you. Whatever Hemlock intended on doing with Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair… it was surely going to kill the part of them you knew and loved, anyway.

When your gaze met Hunter’s, it was clear he had reached that very same conclusion.

You finally spoke up. “Don’t do it.” Your words were aimed at Hunter and him only, a stern yet desperate order.

“No?” Hemlock was still amused. It seemed as if that was his constant state, looking down upon those who failed to see his twisted vision. “Oh, there’s more than his own death at stake.”

There was a brief pause, during which the troopers turned to Hemlock for direction. Then, in a movement too quick for you to process, the one on your left pulled their blade and swiped it across your bicep. You cried out in pain and instinctively went to grab it, but the cuffs kept you from doing so.

“There’s also yours.”

The sound of a struggle indicated that Hunter was trying to fight off his restraint, as impossible as that would be. He was acting as if all the strength hadn’t been drained from him, as if every last nerve ending hadn’t been frayed by Hemlock’s cruel torture, all for your sake.

You lifted your head to look at him. His expression was contorted in a type of rage you had never seen from him before. “I’m okay.” You pushed the words out between gritted teeth as the bleeding wound on your bicep throbbed. “Save your energy.”

You hated the idea of him being subjected to more of Hemlock’s torture, but if he was… you wouldn’t have him wasting all his strength on you.

“You would be wise to take that advice, Sergeant.” Hemlock’s voice was grating. “And to think, all of this could have been avoided if you had just left Omega with me.”

Both you and Hunter bristled at that. Hunter’s eyes somehow got even darker as he stared Hemlock down. “That was… never an option.”

“You think she’ll be safer with you? Once you’ve been conditioned, your first task will be to hunt her down, using those tracking skills they programmed you with. You’ll be the one to bring her back to me.”

Hunter frowned, his lines set in fierce determination. “I won’t… be conditioned.”

First, there was silence. Then, there was another quick flash at your other side, and another cut to match the other. You were caught by surprise yet again, which kept you from concealing your cry of agony.

Hemlock continued on as if it was mere business. “You’ll reconsider.”

You managed to lift your head up enough to gaze at Hunter. With a tightened jaw, you shook your head at him, reinforcing your words from before. He was getting more desperate, and you couldn’t let him give in.

So, you gave both yourself and him a fighting chance.

Summoning all the strength you had left, you swung out your leg hard enough to take down the trooper at your right side. The momentum turned you around to face the trooper on your left, and your cuffed hands worked quickly in snatching his blaster from his hands and slamming it against his helmet. When he crumpled to the ground, it gave you a clear shot at Hemlock.

But Hemlock’s other countless guards were faster.

The blaster bolt hit your shoulder with enough force to send you to the ground. You cried out at the same time Hunter did, closing your eyes as the blazing heat of the painful wound overwhelmed you in sickening waves. You were left on your own to writhe around in agony as Hemlock exchanged some words with Hunter, but you couldn’t hear them over the sound of your blood roaring inside your ears.

When you had somewhat of a grip on the pain, or at least had your own shock working to mask it, you watched Hemlock nod at the guards that surrounded him. He gave them one last order. “Make sure they stay here.”

Hemlock then left without you. Good riddance. But one sound was getting louder, and with both your weakened and bloody arms now out of commission and unable to help you sit back up, much less stand, there was nothing you could do to get away from it.

It was Hunter’s agonized screaming, which was only becoming more and more pained, desperate, and horrified the longer it went on. You couldn’t even cover your ears to muffle it.

You wept. There was no Hemlock to hide from anymore, and these guards could have cared less what you were doing. The sounds of Hunter’s torture were no doubt keeping the sound hidden, anyway.

Eventually, it stopped. Only then did you gain the strength to at least lift your head and look in Hunter’s direction. Through your blurred vision, you could still see that Hunter was unmoving, his face paler in the chair’s lighting than you had ever seen it before.

It was either the sight of him so broken before you or the blood you had lost from your wounds that made your blurred vision fizzle out into black spots. They took over completely until they had pulled you under.

When you came to again, you were being lifted from the ground by an arm tight around your neck. You gasped, your weakened body somehow using the sudden adrenaline to lift your cuffed hands and attempt to fight the grasp off. Everything was still blurry, and the lack of oxygen was only making it worse.

The arm disappeared the moment you heard a crackling, whooshing sound at your side. You fell back to your knees, but before you could fall forward, someone else caught you. After a few coughs and whimpers at the pain it caused in your broken ribs and untreated wounds, you were able to blink a few times to clear your vision and look up.

“Hunter.” Your voice was nearly a cry.

Hunter’s hands cradled the sides of your face. He looked weary, but his gaze told an entirely different story, especially when he spoke. “You’re still with me.” He closed his eyes as his forehead leaned against yours. “Thank the stars.”

Your lips brushed his, but you didn’t have the energy to kiss him, and there were other more pressing matters on your mind. “What happened?”

“Omega found us.” Hunter nodded, though he took a worried glance over his shoulder. “But Hemlock’s getting away with her.” He turned back to you and gave you a once-over. “You need to stay here with Crosshair.”

“No.” You and Crosshair refused the order at the same time. Both you and Hunter looked at Crosshair as he added more. “Not a chance.”

You followed Hunter’s own gaze and then saw it, the absence of Crosshair’s right hand. Your heart plunged into your stomach and threatened to make you sick as you swayed into Hunter. He caught you again, his attention shifting back to you. “Can you make it?”

You focused hard, tightening your jaw. “Whatever it takes to save her.”

Hunter managed to display a small smile for you and nodded before he stood back to his feet. He couldn’t straighten himself all the way, and as he helped you to your feet, you noticed that Crosshair couldn’t, either—but Hunter still shouldered much of your weight. He bent down to grab two blasters and handed one to Crosshair, who he supported with his other side.

As if he hadn’t just been going through torture that fried every single one of his delicate senses.

You were going through the motions as you walked with them, pushing yourself to match their pace for the sake of rescuing Omega. Her fate depended on you, and you sure as hell weren’t going to be the reason why she was at risk yet again. This had to end, and it had to end now.

The group was just about to walk through the door that led to the outside platform when your knees buckled beneath you. Hunter and Crosshair stopped, but you shook your head and gestured to the door.

“Go.” Your demand was stronger than you had expected it to be. “I’ll be right here. She needs you, now.”

That was enough for them. You and Hunter had agreed long ago that Omega’s safety would always come first, and thankfully, he was acting on that now. She would be okay, she had to be okay, and although you weren’t awake long enough to make sure of it, you had a feeling it would work out that way.

The next time you woke was more peaceful than before. The dull, soothing thrum of hyperspace eased you awake, and your heavy eyelids blinked a few times before revealing the sight of Hunter sitting beside you. He was close enough for your cheek to be pressed against his thigh, though as you observed him, you saw that his eyes were closed, and he was slumped in his own slumber.

There was a presence at your other side, too, someone who was curled up next to you. You turned your head and saw her blonde hair before anything else.

The relief that rushed over you was beautifully overpowering, and you couldn’t resist lifting a hand to brush over her sleeping head. Your voice was a quiet whisper as you spoke. “Welcome back, sweet girl.”

Immediately, Omega’s head snapped up, and she stared at you with eyes that were wider and more excited than they should’ve been for someone who had just been sleeping. “Sunny!”

Omega wrapped her arms around your neck, and you caught her with one arm as you laughed in sweetness. You closed your eyes and ran your hand over her back. She was safe, just like you knew she would be.

“I was so scared.” Omega’s voice was muffled by your clothes before she sat back up. She wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand. “We didn’t know if the bacta would work fast enough.”

“I’m sorry, Megs.” You took her free hand and gave it a squeeze. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Omega smiled at you. “It’s okay.” Her gaze flickered behind you. “We’re all safe, now.”

You followed her stare, turning your head back around to face Hunter. He had woken up at the sound of you and Omega, and his eyes were full of a relief so strong that it was bringing him to tears.

He wasn’t the only one.

You pushed yourself up and wrapped your arms tight around his waist, and he welcomed you into his embrace. Hunter’s hand secured your head against him as you held on tight, reminding yourself to take steady inhales and exhales as the terrifying chaos of the past countless hours began to catch up to you.

None of that mattered anymore. What mattered was exactly what Omega had said: that all of you were safe.

But when you gained the faith to lift your head and cup Hunter’s cheek, all you could picture was the expression of pain he wore under Hemlock’s torture.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was shaking, but your resolve stood strong. “I’m sorry for what they did to you.”

Hunter furrowed his brow. “Don’t apologize for their actions.” He cupped your face just like he had on Tantiss. “I should be thanking you for your strength.” His forehead found yours as he closed his eyes in tangible relief. “Thank you for staying alive.”

You ran your thumb underneath his eye. “Thank you for giving me a reason to.”

Hunter let out a quiet exhale of disbelief at that, the sweet breath fanning over your lips. This time, thanks to his efforts and the squad’s, you finally had enough strength to absorb his breath with a deep, desperate kiss.

You clung to one another, exchanging each other’s anxious breaths for pure bliss. Forever would finally be yours, even if there was still much healing to do. But forever was when you could indulge in this moment, not when Omega was still present at your other side, and so you regretfully pulled away from him and offered a sweet smile in exchange for forgiveness.

Your arms tightened back around Hunter, and as you rested your head against him again, he pulled you closer. He invited Omega into his other side, and together, the three of you continued to do the one thing you never could before: rest.

And that was something the galaxy would never, ever take from you again.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

be my daddy tonight

pairing: real dad! chris x reader

cw: father-daughter incest, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, spit, slight degradation, dirty talk, accidental creampie, size kink

a/n: this is a commission for an anonymous commissioner! this is dark/taboo content, so please heed the warnings, and do not read this if incest makes you uncomfortable.

wc: 3.1k

Every time your dad comes home from God knows where, fighting God knows what, he seems more tired than the last. It’s been well-over a year since you last saw him in person. He often goes days without contacting you as well, so the moment he comes in the door feels like the second coming of Jesus Christ. Over the past few weeks you’d considered the possibility that he was KIA, but since he’d – informally – left the BSAA to form his own squad, there was no one to tell you if that was the case or not. His face aged ten years in the past two, but his eyes – gloomy and kind – stayed the same.

He doesn’t even have time to take his jacket off before you run to him, nearly knocking the wind out of him when your body crashes against his. His grip on you is tight – there’s no escaping a father’s love.

“Daddy, I missed you,” you cry into his chest. You rarely ever call him ‘daddy’, not since you were a little kid.

“Missed you too, kiddo.” He slips off his boots and puts his jacket on the coat hanger. “I gotta get some rest now, but we can talk all day tomorrow, do whatever you want.”

Your expression drops. It was false hope, anyway. “Dad?” Your lip quivers, making your words come out blubbered. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

It’s not off-putting, but still out of the ordinary.

“Uh- yeah, I guess- if it’ll make you feel better.” He can’t stand to see you on the verge of tears so he has to let you have your way.

“I love you,” you say in lieu of thanking him.

“Love you, too.”

You forget how big your dad is until you sleep next to him. He manages to take up at least half the bed. If he turns over in his sleep, he’ll send you tumbling onto the floor. Though you both wonder if he’ll be able to sleep at all with his insomnia. For the first time in forever, he truly rests, and when he’s dead asleep next to you, he wraps his arm around your side and pulls you closer, so you’re stuck to him until morning.

It’s the best sleep of his life. Chris would suggest sleeping in the same bed every night if he hadn’t woken up with his dick fully hard.

When he was a teenager, this happened all the time. No rhyme or reason. As a man approaching fifty, he can’t remember the last time he’s had morning wood. He quickly shifts away from you in the hopes that you won’t notice. But you do. You could save him the humiliation and choose not to mention it, but you decide it’ll be more awkward if you don’t acknowledge it.

“It’s no big deal, dad,” you say. “It happens.” Because it does. It happened to your ex-boyfriend almost every night you slept over at his place.

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he stands up, taking his boner out of the situation and into a refreshing shower. He thinks the cool water will make his dick go down but it doesn’t. He can’t will it away, so there’s really only one solution. Jerking off is normal, but jerking off when his daughter is in the other room feels wrong, even if she doesn’t know about it.

He tries not to think about you. He thinks about your mother – who passed away a few years back, so that gets him closer to tears than to an orgasm. He changes course – he thinks about Pamela Anderson in Baywatch, he thinks about that one scene in Basic Instinct where you can see up Sharon Stone’s dress if you’re really good at pausing the TV, he even tries thinking about Jill for a moment just to get his mind off of you.

But it doesn’t work. He woke up with your ass pressed up against his cock, not Pamela Anderson’s, not Sharon Stone’s – yours. You did this to him.

Unbeknownst to him, you’ve been struck by a similar feeling of arousal. Since your last breakup, you haven’t had sex. You’re not big into one-night stands. You prefer sex with someone you trust, someone you love… and then it dawns on you: your perfect match is your dad. You love him, you trust him, and objectively, he’s hot. You’ve tried to rid your mind of that last thought, but it’s a simple truth. Your dad is the human embodiment of sex with his strong, toned arms, his big hands, calloused from years of fighting, his tired eyes that flicker with hope when he sees your face. He loves you, he lives for you, he’d die for you – so, would it really be that wrong for him to fuck you? Honestly, you think, he deserves a thank you for taking care of you for all these years, sacrificing his own safety and sanity for yours. What’s a better present than pussy? Clearly it’s what he wants, right?

Admittedly, you’ve considered what your dad’s dick might look like — you’ve always been a curious person. You assumed it’d be big, and your suspicions were confirmed earlier that morning when you felt it through his sweatpants, but your curiosity is not satisfied - you need to see it, to touch it, to taste it. Your thoughts are interrupted by your dad walking out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He must’ve forgotten you were in his bed, or assumed you’d left the room.

You both take a guilty glance at each other, unable to resist the urge. The sight of him – sparse water droplets on his skin along with old scars, the v-line of his hips, his surprisingly well-trimmed chest hair, and most of all, the tiny patch of dark hair from his belly button down his abdomen (theoretically, it ends at the base of his dick, but your view is blocked by the towel) - only makes you yearn for him more.

Chris is a mature adult, so he decides to brush off the issue as best he can. He promised to hang out with you like a good father does, so he asks if you’d like to have a movie night. Of course you agree.

He feels so guilty for the events that unfolded that morning that he lets you choose any movie you want. You choose The Notebook since there’s no way your dad is ever going to watch it with you otherwise.

That night, when you sit down in front of the TV, you huddle close together on the couch with a blanket wrapped around you. You’re halfway in your dad’s lap and he has one arm around you while the other holds the popcorn bowl.

When the famous sex scene comes on, you don’t fast forward or talk through it to ease the tension, neither of you awkwardly excuse yourself from the room. You only take your eyes off the screen to look at each other.

Your dad can see right through you. He knows what you want, and he wants it too – he doesn’t even have to tell you that because you can feel his cock hardening against your thigh.

“This movie’s better than I thought it would be,” he admits.

“It’s not over yet. I won’t spoil the ending, but it’s really good.”

“I think we’ve both already seen our favorite part, haven’t we?”

“I do really like that part, yeah,” you say much quieter. “I think it’s… romantic…”

“And?”

“Hot. It’s hot. I’ve always wanted something like that but my ex-boyfriend couldn’t carry me upstairs like that.” You half-laugh, but it’s true – your ex sucked at sex.

“I can carry you.”

“Like that…?”

“Only if you want it to be like that.”

“I, um, I, well-”

Chris grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. “This is about you, sweetheart. If you don’t want to, then we can pretend this conversation never happened, but-”

You cut him off with a kiss and he takes it in stride. He’s Ryan Gosling and you’re Rachel McAdams. You’re not covered in rainwater like they are on screen but you are wet – embarrassingly so. But all of your worries fade into the background when Dad picks you up and carries you upstairs, only breaking the kiss when he lays you down on his bed. Your dad’s lips are pillowy soft against yours despite how passionate the makeout session becomes. If kissing him can make you feel this aroused, you’ll surely be done for the moment he gets his mouth between your thighs.

When your palm meets Chris’ clothed cock you can feel him straining against his pants. You set it free of its confines, slowly pulling his pants down to his ankles, keeping your eyes locked on his. When your hands stroke his meaty thighs, inching their way up, he runs his hand through your hair.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

You nod despite your nerves surrounding your skill level. While you gawk at the sight of your dad’s fat cock, it dawns on you that in a way you’ve already been acquainted with this part of him, considering the fact that he used this to make you. How the hell did mom fit this inside her? you think, but don’t say aloud. You want your dad’s mind to be completely focused on you. It is.

You spit on your palm as gracefully as one can and then start stroking his length languidly.

“You look so pretty like this,” he says, and as a thank you for his compliment, you like a stripe from the base to the tip.

A low moan rumbles from Chris’ chest when you take his cock into your mouth – you end up getting about halfway down before you choke. Chris snaps into dad mode and hoists you up, so you’re in his lap. His arousal is overpowered only by his paternal instinct to care for his favorite daughter.

“Dad, why’d you stop me?” Your eyes are already wet from when you choked but it still looks like you’re close to tears. “Was it not good enough?”

“No, baby girl, you were doing great until you started choking. Daddy can’t have you getting hurt.”

A frown stays plastered on your face until Chris says, “And, I think it’s my turn to make you feel good. Can’t wait to taste you any longer.”

He swiftly flips you onto your back then sinks to his knees at the edge of the bed. When he pulls your legs towards him you gasp. His impatience makes him rough. He’s quick to remove your pajama pants along with your panties but he stops when he sees your slit, glistening with arousal.

He marvels at the sight, running his fingers along your folds. “This all for me?” he asks, though it’s rhetorical.

“Uh-huh. All for you, daddy.” His touch makes your skin tingle from head to toe. You shiver, though the room is heating up.

Chris dives in, shoving his face in between your legs, and running on instinct, your hands fly down to his head, grasping at his hair. You can’t help but pull a little. He growls in response.

You moan so loudly that you’d normally be embarrassed, but you can’t focus on anything except the movements of your dad’s tongue across your clit.

“Taste so good, baby,” he mumbles into your core.

Your legs begin to tremble, thighs threatening to clamp around his head. Chris has to hold them open so he doesn’t suffocate. You don’t have to tell him you’re close – he knows.

“I’ll let you cum once you tell me that this pretty pussy is mine.”

“’S all yours, daddy,” you cry. “I’m yours.”

“Damn right you’re mine,” he says just before you cum, coating his face with your wetness. He doesn’t pull away until you force him to stop, until you’re overstimulated and sobbing.

You pull him in for a kiss, but first you say, “You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah? Your boyfriend couldn’t make you cum like that?”

“No, he never did.”

“Needed your dad to help you this whole time, huh?”

“Yeah, I need you inside me, daddy,” you say. Chris already has the same idea. His fist is around his thick cock, though he doesn’t need help getting hard. In fact, you watch a bead of precum drip from his tip. He pumps himself a few times before he prods at your entrance, attempting to fuck you. He watches as your face scrunches up in discomfort.

He pulls back. “Thought you said you wanted me, sweet girl?”

“I do, I do,” you insist.

“Just too tight for me, then, huh? Got the tightest little pussy I’ve ever seen. Gotta get you ready first.” Without warning, he shoves two fingers inside you, curling them upward to meet your g-spot. He strokes that spongy spot while he stretches you out and you begin to clench around his fingers.

“Ah-ah,” he says, pulling them out – much to your dismay. “You’re not gonna cum yet. Not until I’m inside you.”

You grip the sheets while he fills you in one thrust – you’re still tight, but your wetness makes the job easier. The stretch still stings at first, but neither of you can stand to wait any longer. He doesn’t give you a minute to adjust – he grips your legs and brings them to his chest so he can fuck you as deep as possible.

You’re practically screaming already, feeling a familiar sensation in your abdomen. “Gonna cum already? Never seen such a sensitive girl.”

You nod frantically.

“Cum whenever you want, baby, but daddy’s not gonna stop until he decides you’re done.”

You couldn’t stop your release if you wanted to. You soak his abdomen in bursts while he continues to pound in and out of you.

He pushes your thighs to your chest and it makes you scream. Continuing at a merciless pace, he taunts you, “Screaming so loud the neighbors can probably hear you, baby. What would they think if they knew you were moaning like that ‘cause your dad is fucking you so good?”

He feels your pussy ripple around him and he knows the answer. “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You nod dumbly. You can’t bring yourself to care about what your neighbors would think while you’re getting the best dick of your life.

“What a dirty girl,” he tuts at you. “Didn’t think I raised a slut.”

“’M not a slut,” you protest.

“Really?” When you nod, he grabs your chin and spits in your mouth. Your pussy clenches when you swallow. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You don’t protest being called a slut anymore because you can’t. Your obscene moans are the only thing that leave your mouth – sometimes the word ‘daddy’ comes with them.

“I’ve fucked my little girl stupid already,” he says. “Can’t even keep yourself quiet. Guess I’ve gotta help you.”

Chris can’t stop himself – he’s addicted to the feeling of your cunt gripping him. So, to shut you up, he changes position. When he momentarily pulls out so that he can flip you onto your stomach, you whine, feeling empty and needy.

“Need daddy to fill you, huh? Couldn’t take my cock earlier and now you cry when I take it out for a second.”

It’s pathetic how much you like it, but he can’t see your reddening cheeks when your face is pressed into the mattress like this. You scream into the pillow, but the sounds of his balls hitting your clit with every thrust and his hand smacking your ass so hard it leaves a mark, is just as likely to get you caught. With the way his cock is stretching you out, you’ll surely be sore tomorrow, but the thought barely crosses your mind because it’s so deep inside you that the head is brushing up against your cervix.

Your dad is more talkative during sex than he usually is outside of the bedroom. It’s like a new man has taken over his body, a man who’s being held captive by your cunt.

“You feel so good. Shoulda known you’d fit so perfectly around my cock since I’m the one who made you.” His crude words have you soaking his already wet bed sheets. He bites his knuckles to muffle his own groans, but his other hand remains on your hip, gripping the flesh hard enough to leave marks. 

Knowing that he’s close to cumming, he lifts you up so that your back is pressed to his chest while he’s still on his knees behind you. He wraps his bicep around your neck in an effort to make sure you stay quiet. You feel light-headed when he constricts your airways, but you trust him to keep you safe.

Maybe you seem panicked – maybe you are, maybe your dad knows you better than you know yourself – your legs are surely trembling but that could be your rapidly approaching orgasm. Regardless, your dad worries, so he reassures you, “Hey, pretty girl.” His breath tickles the shell of your ear. “Daddy’s got you, not gonna let you get hurt.”

Still, he fucks you so hard you think you might pass out. You’re going limp in his arms, basically a rag doll, but like Chris said, he chooses when you stop – he’s going to make sure he gets to cum.

When your release washes over you for the third time that night it feels like a surge of electricity in your abdomen sending the current though your body rather than a smooth wave of pleasure. Your orgasm drags Chris headlong into his own, and he’s barely able to pull out fast enough to cum on you, rather than in you.

Once the realization hits him in the aftermath - while you’re curled up on his chest - he asks, “Are you on the pill… or anything?”

“Mhm, why?” You mumble.

He dips a finger into you and waves it in front of your face, showing you that he overestimated his ability to pull out.

“Did you cum inside me?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s what makes it hotter.”

“So, if I did that next time, you’d like it?”

“I’d love it… wait- we forgot to finish the movie!”

“Do we have to?”

“C’mon I promise you’ll like the ending. It’s super romantic.”

“Is this not romantic enough for you?”

“It’ll be more romantic if you snuggle up on the couch with me.”

“Fine, but only ‘cause I love you.”

"I love you too, dad."                                                                                                                   

[vizslasaber]

UNDERSTANDING ──── echo.

summary: in the middle of the night, echo finds you, hurt and exhausted and in need of an apology.

pairing: arc trooper echo x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none! just a sprinkling of angst and grief.

a/n: i love echo so much & im so glad he’s okay as of the finale!! this takes place sometime around the early seasons, but after the season 1 episode “cornered.” also, i listened to waves by chloe moriondo while writing this!

You’re not sure what to think of Echo.

Most of the time, he’s quiet. When he does speak, it’s usually to enforce a rule, remind the group of their current plan, or to keep Wrecker in check. You’ve seen his softer side, with Omega and occasionally his brothers, and it’s rare but honestly endearing.

The thing about him that most irks you, however, is that he never wants to seem to interact with you.

Officially, Hunter is the group leader; ever since Clone Force 99 accepted you into their squad, that much has been clear. You’re the only non-clone—or “natborn” as the others refer to you—living on the Marauder. It’s been several months since you saved Omega from bounty hunters on your home planet of Pantora, and now, you’re as much a part of the Bad Batch as anyone else.

Except, you’re not a batcher. Not really.

Despite how much you care for your squadmates, it’s easy to feel separated from them at times. Easy to feel different. Most of the others have picked up on this by now, and often go to great lengths to make you feel like one of them.

Not Echo, though. He seems—wary of you, almost, and you’re not sure why. Once, you brought it up to Tech, who simply waved you off with one of his shrewd, knowledge-filled comments. “You are new here, you know. Some people are simply slower to open up than others.”

You, however, know that’s not the case. You’ve seen Echo with his brothers, and with Omega. He can be kind, and funny, and even angry. But to you… to you, he’s nothing but quiet.

For some time, you tried your hardest to be yourself around him—to crack your usual sarcastic jokes at his expense, to be friendly, like you are with the others. But the constant avoidance and clipped answers leave you increasingly confused and hurt.

So you withdrew from him, too.

It still bothers you, sometimes. But you’ve learned to brush it off.

Now, you sit in the cockpit, feet resting against the control panel. A ration bar—one of the good ones—rests in your hand. Every so often, as you watch the blue glow of hyperspace streak past the viewport, you take a bite of the ration bar.

You’re on first watch. Someone has to stay in the cockpit to oversee the ship’s journey back to Ord Mantell—and, since you still can’t fall asleep in hyperspace, you keep volunteering for the job. The cockpit is mostly dark. All the lights are off, and the viewport is dimmed. Anything brighter reminds you of how sleep-deprived you are, and so you’re content to sit in the blue gloom.

Leaning your head against the headrest of the pilot’s chair, you close your eyes. Your entire body feels heavy with exhaustion, but every time you try to drift off, the rumbling of the ship’s hyperdrive jerks you awake.

The sound of footsteps startles you. You open your eyes, leaning around the back of the chair to inspect what little part of the ship’s corridor you can see. You can hear the sounds of someone moving around by the small common area, but you can’t tell who it is.

Tech’s probably experimenting again, you think wryly, and settle back into your comfortable position.

Soon, though, the footsteps grow closer. Someone enters the cockpit with a tired sigh, placing something on one of the chairs nearer to the door. It sort of sounds like Hunter, but with the similarity between everyone’s voices, you can’t be sure.

The footsteps halt suddenly. You look up to find honey-coloured eyes surveying you with apprehension. In the dim light, awash with blue, you register the glint of a cybernetic headpiece.

“Oh,” you say, blinking up at Echo, “hi.”

Echo only grunts.

You frown, looking down at your hands, at your half-eaten ration bar. “It’s late,” you say quietly. “You, um—you should get some rest.”

When Echo answers, you don’t look up. He says, voice low and gravelly with sleep, “I slept for a couple hours.”

Slowly, you nod, fiddling with the foil wrapper of the ration bar. The cockpit falls silent; you wait for Echo to leave, but he stays still, his shadow falling over your tired frame.

You want to ask why he’s still here. You want to be rude, to ask him to leave so you can have some peace and quiet. But truthfully, he isn’t saying anything, or causing any disturbances, so instead you hold up your unfinished ration bar. “You want a bite?”

Echo blinks. It seems to take him a moment to process your question. Then, to your faint surprise, he nods. “Thank you,” he says as you hand him the ration bar wordlessly.

It’s a peace offering, of sorts.

He sits in the co-pilot’s chair and takes a hesitant bite, chewing slowly. You see his expression brighten—probably at the realization that this is one of the good ration bars, the kind that Hunter always says not to hog—then return to his usual neutral one.

You watch as he swallows. He hands you back the bar, holding out his hand, but you don’t take it.

“Why… why are you here?” you ask quietly.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Echo drops his arm and breaks eye contact, looking almost embarrassed. Or maybe even ashamed.

Still, you wait for his answer. Several long, painful seconds pass before he says anything. When he speaks, it’s like he’s forcing out the words.

“I wanted to—” he pauses. His flesh hand fiddles with his metal one. “I wanted to apologize.”

You feel your breath hitch. Staring, you try not to gape. “What?” you say, whispering without meaning to. “I don’t—”

“I’ve been horrible to you,” Echo continues, voice steadier. “I didn’t mean to be so… withdrawn. I didn’t realize I was doing it. I… I hope you can forgive me.”

Instead of acknowledging his apology, you bite the inside of your cheek with uncertainty, then cross your arms over your chest. One of the others must have put him up to this. Probably Omega, or perhaps Hunter. Raising an eyebrow, you ask, “Who sent you?”

“No one!” Echo replies hurriedly, then presses his lips into a thin line. “I mean, Hunter told me that you—he said that—” He sighs. “I didn’t realize it on my own. But I came because I wanted to.”

You blink, cursing yourself when you feel your eyes sting. With a start, you realize that this is the most Echo has said to you since you joined the squad.

Taking in a breath, you wring your hands anxiously. “I just��� I just don’t understand why.” You shrug. “You’re not the same with me. Not like how you are with the others.”

Echo swallows. “It’s not—”

“I just want to know what I did wrong.”

At that, Echo falls silent. Guilt permeates the air, enough that you can feel it.

“Hey,” Echo says, kinder than you’ve ever heard him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes, like lava, or maybe liquid gold, bore into you. It almost hurts to look.

“This,” he continues, gesturing to the space between you, “is not your fault.”

Against your will, a lone tear slips down your cheek. “So whose fault is it?” you whisper, barely loud enough to be heard over the ship’s engine

It’s obvious from the look on Echo’s face that he’s thinking of something—or someone—specific. Despite how much you want to, you don’t push.

You just wait.

“It’s my brother,” Echo finally murmurs, and you raise your eyebrows, quickly cycling through the rest of your squad. Hunter, Wrecker, Tech… maybe Crosshair? You can’t think what any of them, even the one who’s no longer a member of your group, have to do with you.

“Your... brother,” you repeat dumbly.

“Yes.” Echo nods. “Fives.”

Oh. A fellow soldier, then. Probably from before the war ended… and probably long dead.

Drawing in a shaky breath, you hastily wipe your cheek with your sleeve. “What—what about him?”

“You…” Echo shakes his head, then lets out a humourless chuckle as he turns to look at the viewport, at the swirling blues and whites and greys of hyperspace. When he speaks again, his voice is barely above a whisper. “You remind me of him.”

You blink.

Truthfully, you have no idea what to say to that. Luckily, Echo continues, saving you from having to come up with an answer.

“Your sense of humour, I mean. The sarcasm, the jokes.” He shrugs, and the light from the viewport catches on his cybernetic headpiece, glinting in the otherwise dim cockpit. “And… and the way you know people.”

“‘Know people’?” you echo, confused. “I’m not following.”

“You understand people,” Echo says, and finally looks at you again, eyes impossibly sad. “Somehow, without ever having experienced what others have gone through, you understand their pain—and you feel it with them.” He closes his eyes for a brief moment, then opens them again. “Fives used to do that too.”

And suddenly, as though a switch inside you has been flipped, it all makes sense. “And that’s why you’ve been avoiding me,” you realize, and Echo winces. “Because I remind you of him.”

“See?” The barest hint of a smile graces his lips. “You’re doing it now. And you’re not even trying.”

“I guess I never thought about it like that.”

“I’m sorry for everything,” Echo says. “I am. It just…”

“Hurts,” you finish, and Echo blinks, surprised. You smile softly. “I know you too, you know.” Reaching out, you take his flesh hand, gently prying it open and taking the ration bar. As Echo watches, you split the remaining piece in half and hand one to him. “And for what it’s worth—I forgive you.”

The shadows colouring Echo’s face suddenly seem lighter. He smiles, then—really smiles.

You take a bite of the ration bar and smile back.

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TAGS | @sweetsunflowerkisses @sarasxe @buckethead-over-heels @frietiemeloen @leotatombs @revengeisaconfesionofpain @hoeneyhoeney @idoubleswearimawriter @burningfieldof-clover @captain-rexs-babygirl @living-that-best-life @readeity @itspauvr @my-own-oracle @xlovingheartsx @seriowan @leotatombs @blueberry-9-pancakes @lucyysthings @idoubleswearimawriter @burningfieldof-clover @captain-rexs-babygirl

[squoxle]

✏ TNAIT 001: If You Can't Beat 'Em, Join 'Em l.at fanfic

✰ pairing: nerdy!bandboy!anton x cheerleader!fem!reader | ✰ wc: 2.1k | ✰ cw: profanity, sexual themes |✰ plot: after receiving your midterm report, your parents threaten to pull you off the cheer squad if you don't pull your grades up. so, you take the advice of your best friend to seek help. [Series Masterlist]

“If I don’t see those grades going up soon, you’re done with cheerleading,” your dad spat at the dinner table.

“But my team needs me,” you whined. “I can’t leave in the middle of cheer season.”

“Do I look like I care about any of that?” He sneered. “This is an all-A’s family. And your grades are embarrassing,” he continued as he pulled out your midterm report. “Not a single A. And the worst part is that you’re failing math.”

“But that professor is a complete jerk.”

“I hardly ever see you studying. You go to class, come home, play your phone, and goof off with your friends. This university is very expensive and I will not continue funding your education if you’re gonna perform like this. School is about more than cheer.”

“But—”

“No buts. I don’t want to hear another word. Fix it or you’re done,” he said cutting into his steak.

“Listen to your father, honey. It’s very important that you maintain a good academic standing so you can get into a nice law school. Both your father and I graduated with a very high GPA—”

“3.75 and higher,” your father budded in.

“Exactly, so if you need a tutor—”

“I’m not stupid. I can do it by myself,” you mumbled. Even though you desperately wanted the help you knew this was a trap. Your father would not be happy if you were willing to give up that quickly.

“Ok,” your mother nodded. “But remember if you need the help it’s available for you.”

Being honest with yourself, you didn't want to go to law school and be a lawyer anyways. But you knew that your parents weren't going to let you graduate with a career as a cheerleader. They wanted you to have a real profession and since you couldn't pick fast enough, your father chose for you.

A job that was perfect for a sophisticated young woman and possibly a way for you to meet a good husband, or at least that's what your parents were telling you.

You finished dinner and went to bed. But not without logging onto your computer and checking your grades for each course.

• Politics — 79.47% • English — 82.97% • Math — 68.12% • Geography — 75.83%

"There's no way in hell I'm gonna be able to bring these grades up in time," you groaned as you closed your laptop and collapsed into your pillow.

"Is it just me or do you feel like cheerleaders are basically strippers in training," Chanyoung said as he opened his locker.

"Nah, they definitely are. Just think about it. They flip around and shake their asses in skirts so short that a small breeze will be enough to expose everything underneath," Dongmin replied as he leaned against the locker beside Chanyoung. "I'm not complaining, I'm just saying," he mumbled.

"No, you're right. And from what I can see is that the majority of them are brainless bimbos who've most likely sucked their way through school," Chanyoung said pulling out a few tablets to shove into his backpack.

"I bet you'd love to have some brainless bimbo suck you off," Dongmin chuckled. "You can't even lie and say that you wouldn't take the chance if it was given to you."

"I mean..."

"Exactly. I'm not calling you a hypocrite or anything, I just want you to be real with yourself," Dongmin said as Chanyoung zipped up his backpack, lugging it on his back. "Hell, I wouldn't even pass up an offer like that," he added, slightly bumping Chanyoung's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess," Chanyoung shrugged.

"Anyways, I gotta go. I'll catch ya later tonight at the game, alright? Our usual spot," Dongmin nodded before walking off, leaving Chanyoung behind.

"Alright, see ya," he waved gently before walking down the hall.

Chanyoung wasn't entirely wrong, you knew a couple girls on the squad who did a few "extra credit assignments." After hearing about your situation one of the girls even offered to hook you up with the guy that helped her.

"Honestly, it sounds worse than it really is," Abigail said, her blonde hair falling in her face as she tied her shoelaces. "Having some pervy nerd pull up your grades is easy. Trust me, my grades were even worse than yours. And now I have a 3.5 GPA and nothing lower than a B on my transcript," she smiled before standing up to walk over to the mirror, adjusting her uniform.

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be weird if we use the same guy?" You asked.

"Hmm, I mean...I don't think so. Xoey and I had a threesome with him and he loved it. We also got a perfect 100 on our group presentation without editing a single slide," she beamed.

You bit your lower lip, considering the tempting option that had been placed before you.

"Look, if you don't want to get help from Jake, then you can find your own unsuspecting nerd who's willing to help you out in exchange for some action," she smirked, clipping a bow in her hair.

"Guys! What the hell are you still doing in here?" your brown-skinned cheermate, Nova, spat while waving her pom-poms around as she spoke. "You need to get on the field right now! Coach is already pissed," she said, her curly hair bouncing as she jogged away.

"Coming!" Abigail shouted. "We'll talk about this after the game okay," she said, shaking your shoulder before the two of you ran out together.

You met the sharp green eyes of Coach Sam, who looked about as pissed off as you expected her to be. "If you hadn't noticed by the raging crowd behind these doors, we have a big game tonight ladies! Remember your timing! Watch your step! And please, for the love of god, don't fuck this up!" she shouted before placing her black cap on, covering her shaggy dark brown hair.

She blew the whistle, signaling you all to do your signature walk out onto the field to open the game. You just tried your best to focus as you did the first cheer of the game. After you finished, you and the rest of your squad sat down on the benches.

"Abigail. ____," Coach Sam said tapping your shoulders.

"Yes, Coach?"

"If either of you pull some shit like that again you'll be running laps from sun-up to sun-down. Understand?"

"Yes, Coach," you answered in unison.

This game was important for three reasons.

1. If your university won, that meant you were going out of state for the next game.

2. There were cheer scouters watching tonight and the possibility of being picked increased with your performance.

3. This could be one of your last games if you can't figure out what to do about your grades.

"There's no A in cheer," your father's words echoed in your head.

"But there is in cheat," you thought to yourself.

As much as you didn't want to, you took Abigail's advice and scoped the bleachers for the perfect target. Dorky, lonely, and horny...but most importantly, smart.

Chanyoung and Dongmin sat at the very top row of the second tier, in the seats farthest to the left. You set your eyes on the dark-haired boy and his friend.

Curious to know who they were, you whispered to your cheermate Janice, asking if she recognized him. She knew almost everybody, especially since her dad was the dean of the university.

So it was no surprise that she was also head cheerleader and you were sure she had already secured a spot on a professional football team after college. That’s just how her family operated. Paying their way through life.

“Oh, that’s Lee Chanyoung and Han Dongmin, they're both a part of the university's orchestra. You'll usually see them hanging out together. Literally, like all the time."

Introducing New Target: Lee Chanyoung. Age 20. Perfectly talented brainbot. Not only was he in a highly desired honors society, but he was also a part of the college's orchestra.

You nearly smacked yourself in the face as you thought back to the first week of uni and how you were forced to attend the opening recital with your parents. "Classical music is a good way to lighten your mood and increase productivity,” your father said as you sat sandwiched between him and your mother.

Sometimes you hated the amount of pressure your parents put on you to be perfect. Unrealistic expectations that they couldn’t even meet themselves…at least not without pulling their hair out.

You were trying to find a balance between school and life. Yes, school could prove to be very beneficial for you in the future and a great investment, but you didn’t want to let life pass you by while you had your nose shoved 16 chapters deep in a textbook.

After Janice finished reciting what sounded like their admissions speech, you waited until the game was over to put your plan into action.

You texted Abigail to let her know that you’d be looking for a study partner tonight so she wouldn’t worry about where you were. But she told you to make it quick. She promised to wait around to take you home that way you had an alibi for staying out late.

The stands were clearing out as the game came to an end and you ran across the field to catch up with Chanyoung and Dongmin, throwing your bag over your shoulder.

"Hey!" you called out, hoping they'd hear you.

If they did...great, you could move on to step two, but if they didn't you would die of embarrassment.

"Uhh, are you talking to us?" Dongmin asked, turning around and tilting his head as Chanyoung paused beside him.

"Yeah," you said shyly.

"Oh my god. I can't believe I'm actually crumbling right now," you thought to yourself.

"Umm...well I know we don't really know each other, but I need some help," you tried your best to be confident, but you couldn't shake the fact that this felt like downright prostitution. "It'll just be for a couple of weeks to help me pull up my grades."

"Uhh--"

"I'll pay you for it," you spat. Maybe there was a way to get some assistance without having to degrade yourself--no shame to Abby. She did what she thought was right.

"Well, as much as I'd love to help you, I'm already swamped," Dongmin shrugged before a mischievous smirk crept across his face. "But my buddy Chanyoung is more than available."

"I am?" Chanyoung said, eyes widening in shock. That was the first time you heard his quiet voice since you came over.

"Of course you are," he winked, patting his friend on the shoulder. "He's been telling me all about how easy this semester has been on him and that he has way too much free time and nothing to do with it."

"Really?!" you asked, surprised everything was going so smoothly. Maybe you would be able to pick up your grades without having to lose your dignity after all.

"Oh yeah. Trust me," Dongmin smiled. "He can help you out with your little...issue."

Okay...this Dongmin guy was acting a little suspicious, but you needed all the help you could get. Beggars can't be choosers, right?

"Okay," you said pulling your phone out of the side pocket of your bag. "Let me just give you both my number so that we can keep in touch. I really appreciate your help," you unlocked your phone before opening your contacts.

Dongmin put in both of their numbers while Chanyoung stood beside him not saying a word. "There ya go," Dongmin smiled handing you back your phone.

"Thank you so much," you smiled. "Can I meet up with you tomorrow?"

"T-tomorrow?" Chanyoung stuttered.

"Umm yeah. I want to get started as soon as possible...if that's okay."

"Oh, yeah of course. That's fine. He'll meet you tomorrow in the library," Dongmin reassured you, wrapping his arm around his friend.

“That’s great,” you smiled. “Will you be there too?”

“Me? Oh no, like I said before, this is all my buddy Channie. He’s got nothing better to do than help a friend…well a new friend,” something about the cheesy grin plastered across his face was unsettling, but you gotta do what you gotta do.

“Okay that’s fine. Just text me what times you’re available tomorrow and I’ll meet you then,” you smiled.

“____! Girl come on let’s go!” Abby shouted from across the field. You saw her from a distance, checking her pretend watch, taping her foot.

“Sorry guys, I gotta go now. See ya,” you waved before joining Abby.

You hopped into her bright yellow convertible, leaving the boys behind on the field.

Everything was looking great for you. You had a study date planned with a total book nerd. Hopefully, he will be a little less shy tomorrow, otherwise, you didn’t expect to make much progress.

Thanks for reading the first episode of my series. [Series Masterlist]

Click this link to go to my main masterlist and stay tuned for the next episodes.

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[rodolfoparras]

pleasee make another about old man price oh my days 😮‍💨

Thinking about old man Price (i,ii) | 18+, MDNI

Pairing: John Price x Top Male Reader

Content tags: erectile dysfunction, riding, mirror sex, multiple orgasms, possessiveness, overstimulation, blowjobs, rimming, angry sex, price is a bit obsessed with ur dick?

A/N: I think this is the last part.. for now 🧎🏻‍♂️sending kisses to my old man price lovers

Old man Price who’s almost obsessed with your cock , loves how firm it feels while fully hard, will put it in his mouth just to feel the weight of it on his tongue or jerk you off just to watch it be so sensitive to his touch, loves to watch himself sink down on it by looking into his reflection in mirrors, loves that it feels like he’s been skewed onto it when riding it, who’s obsessed with making you cum with his hand or mouth just to see you rock hard again in a matter of minutes.

Old man Price who’s embarrassed about getting head because why would you want to suck on an old man’s cock ? but you love having him in your mouth, love that you don’t know if he’ll get hard or not, love working for it, love feeling the soft weight resting upon your tongue, love feeling him swell in your mouth, love nosing at the fringe of gray curls, love feeling the warmth engulf your mouth as you suckle on his soft cock

Old man Price who’s so eager to be fucked by you he’ll stay riding you even even though he’s gone soft, who still ends up spurting ropes cum over both your abdomens since he’s so eager for your cock

Old man Price who slowly but surely realizes just how insatiable his young boyfriend is, so much so he wakes up with your head buried between his cheeks and tonguing his hole or making him ride you into the early hours of the morning. The next day he’ll wake up with eye bags under his eyes and grumpily drinking coffee while being teased by the rest of his squad

Old man Price who usually goes soft during sex and gets embarrassed by it, but now gets to be embarrassed over how fast he cums when he’s with you, like he’s young again, and even after he cums you wont let him be, kissing caressing and touching him, until he’s all worked up again, even if it may take a bit longer than what you’re used to

Old man Price who can’t guarantee you he’ll get hard often so of course you take that as a challenge, brushing a hand over his crotch, whispering sweet nothings into his ear just so that your soft breath washes over his skin, poking and prodding just to see what will get him riled up until the poor man is sporting a hard on in the middle of a meeting and squeezing his thighs together in a desperate search for relief

Old man Price who’ll stand in the full length mirror in his room, stark naked with his gaze trailing over his body, looking at every scar every mark every imperfection asking himself how can he be so stupid to think you’d want someone like that but you’d prove to him just how much you want him by spurting ropes of cum over that very same body, adding marks of your own next to the already existing ones, fucking him with his front flushed against the mirror just so that he can see everything you love about him

Old man Price who’ll joke about dying, only to start saying it just to rile you up because every time he jokes about his death you’ll punish him by fucking him into the mattress

Old man Price who gets a confidence boost from dating such a handsome young man like you so much so he starts going all out on your date nights and ends up catching many people’s eyes. Although this sudden wave of attention leaves him flustered and even has him playing into it a bit, at the end of the night you’re the one he’s going home with. Besides he doesn’t mind the little display of possessiveness he’s bound to end up with when you get him in bed.

[watchtowerindistress]

for the love of ... bob? - jake seresin x reader (1/2)

Summary: Being Jake's (best) friend - sorry, Javy - proved to have its ups and downs but there was something about having him in your corner you couldn't resist. Jake and you just clicked on a deeper level. That's why you didn't get it when the Southern boy was acting so weird.-

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Language, Jake being an idiot (what else is new?), Jealous! + Soft!Jake, fluff

Author’s note: Just something fun I wanted to write. I kinda hate myself for not writing for Bradley first, since I love the guy. You know, Jake's fics I love to read, yet I couldn't stand him while watching Maverick. Go figure.

I haven't watched the film enough to distinguish the traits of the characters, so I can't guarantee for accuracy for the side characters. I can only include a handful of people - that's why I don't have people like Reuben in there since their character traits aren't included in the fandom page.

Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @silenthappyplace @mrsevans90 @dempy @yourgirlypop (blank blogs can't be tagged)

Read me on AO3 | Series masterlist

“So, tell us all the details. Preferably, the humiliating kind,” Natasha asked with a curious air.

You smiled. “What about?”

“Hangman, of course.”

The Dagger Squad was the perfect company to be around, you decided. Jake, your childhood best friend, who you haven’t seen in years, offered The Hard Deck as the place for you to wait until he arrived. Video calls didn’t hold up to the real thing. Especially, with you two being very busy people and you finally getting out of New York to spend some quality time together.

“I need to get the embarrassing goods, at least before Hangman shows up. I mean, we have the perfect person to interrogate. In the rare instances, when he talks about something other than himself, Hangman keeps mentioning you,” she mused.

“Nat-” Bob interjected, who was sitting next to her in a booth while the rest of their squad were scattered in the bar.

Natasha turned her head. “Aren’t you a little bit curious about the depraved mind of Jake Seresin?”

“Not really.”

You snorted at their torn convictions when Mickey and Javy arrived at their table with bottles of beer.

“What did we miss?” Javy asked.

Natasha’s stubborn gaze didn’t stray from yours for many seconds. “I’m trying to crack Y/N.” Her eyes met Javy’s over her shoulder. “Tell Rooster he needs to stall him until I get to the good bits.”

You looked around speculatively. “Is this some sort of initiation or baptism by fire Jake should’ve warned me about?”

Javy offered a small reprieve. “Don’t mind her. She just wants to pick your brain. How long are you going to stay?”

“About a week. Enough time for Jake to show me around San Diego.”

Mickey took a gulp from his drink. “Good luck with that.”

Warm breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine when someone whispered into your ear, “Did I just hear my name?”

Your body jolted at hearing the unexpected voice. “Oh my God.” You turned and found a cheeky Jake standing behind you. “You little f- Don’t startle me like that!” Clambering out of the booth, you jumped into his arms, while giggling from the shock. “Hey, you,” you said, holding on tightly.

“Hey, yourself. Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes, darlin’.”

“You’re such a jerk,” you whispered into his neck.

Jake swayed you lightly. “You love when I’m a jerk.”

Leaning back, you pressed your fingers an inch apart. “Just a tad.” You hesitated. “Like about 10%.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Oh please. Talk about 75%. It’s part of my charm,” he murmured, stroking your lower back.

“Is this what you tell everyone here?” You teased, pointing to his colleagues behind you.

Javy’s scoff was joined by the others.

You looked back to see their reactions. “You know, I’m starting to really like your group of friends.” While turning back, you narrowed your eyes when you saw Jake glowering at the Dagger Squad before his expression turned into an innocent one.

“I’m starting to question your taste in people,” he said.

Someone snickered next to him. “That’s funny, … Hangman.”

Realizing that another person joined their company, you turned towards the man who looked vaguely familiar from the pictures Jake had sent you. Not to mention, you remembered Natasha’s remark from earlier that Jake would show up with someone else.

“Rooster, right?” You stepped away from Jake’s embrace and shook Bradley’s hand in greeting. Jake merely sighed and crossed his arms.

“Bradley’s fine.” He faced the rest of the group. “By the way, am I the only one that felt really awkward just standing here, watching those two?”

Mumbles echoed all around. “No, you’re not.” Still slightly by the display of the too-long-hug.

A sigh left Jake, who placed an arm around your shoulder. “Don’t listen to the others. And the words of the chicken shouldn’t be trusted. I hope those knuckleheads treated you right.”

You shrugged. “It was fun. I was this close to reveal your darkest secrets for a slice of a good ol’ fashioned apple pie made by … Phoenix, was it?”

“There’ll be no revealing. And no pie,” Jake interjected before pointing at Natasha. “You’ve already been in the company of Phoenix and the goon squad for less than an hour and Nat already found out your weakness for sweets,” he whispered against your neck. “At least you didn’t have to be subjected to the likes of Rooster here.” A shiver coursed through his body. “I shudder at the thought of you having to listen to him at first. He’ll probably want to talk about his caterpillar of a moustache.”

A languid smirk drew on Bradley’s lips as he stroked his mentioned facial hair. “Very funny. You jealous?”

You tilted your head at their teasing. “You have some weird fixation on Bradley’s facial hair. Didn’t you talk on the phone about-”

Abruptly, Jake took you by the hand and dragged you to the bar counter. “Let’s get some food into you. Your blood sugar’s getting awfully low. Someone’s getting tired already.”

“You’re being such a grump, Jake.”

Jake leaned against the counter. “I’m not. I’m just making sure you’re getting some nachos into you, darlin’.”

“You need to be nicer. We both know you’re more of a sweetheart than this.”

He rolled his eyes. “I have a reputation to uphold. And don’t let yourself be bribed by the others.” Jake turned to Penny. “A basket of nachos for this one, Penny?” You rolled your eyes at seeing Jake point at the top of your head.

There was something about Penny’s playful glance that warmed you upon first meeting. The woman nudged her head at Jake. “Be careful with this one.”

With mischief in your eyes, you stole a glance at him. “I know. This one … has been trouble for as long as I can remember.”

“Hey!” Jake uttered in mock outrage before he did introductions. “Penny, that’s Y/N. She’s my friend,” he said, placing his hand on your back.

“And here I thought I was your best friend.”

Jake hushed any further confessions, whispering, “But don’t tell Javy.”

You turned to Penny with a smile. “See? He’s such a big softie.”

Penny smirked. “I’m starting to. Where are you from?”

“Moved around a lot as a kid. Dad’s an Air Force pilot.” You waved towards him. “We grew up together in Texas. But I live in New York.”

Penny’s eyes lit up at the mention. “I’ll get you some cheese dip.”

“Thanks.”

Jake watched Penny wander off with a speculative gaze. “Someone’s making friends quickly.”

“It’s okay. I’ll teach you my ways,” you said only half-teasingly and stroked Jake’s arm. Your hand lingered on his muscles. Wait, were they flexing? “Woah, what happened to your arm, dude?”

Jake’s voice turned concerned. “Why? What’s wrong?”

There was something akin to awe in your voice. “Your bicep feels like it’s going to rip through your shirt.”

His shoulders were shaking when he chuckled. There was something about Jake turning his head to hide his blushing cheeks that stunned you even to this day. “You’re such a smartass.”

“I’m serious. Someone’s really working out, huh?” You mumbled to yourself, “This could make a girl feel weak in the knees.”

“Okay, you need food,” Jake said with a resolute mindset, before calling over your shoulder, “Thanks, Penny.”

He pushed the basket towards your elbow. “Get some chips into you.” Jake just watched you munch on your crispy snack. “Speaking of food, you want to join me and the group to some Barbecue this weekend?”

You barely lifted your head. “Barbecue? Special occasion?”

“Rooster’s uncle Maverick is celebrating his birthday-”

“Woah, hold your horses, Jake.”

You raised your hands. Either to stop Jake from continuing or to restart your own brain. “Come again? Maverick?” Your hands hovered over your mouth, as you mumbled, “You’re inviting me to Maverick’s birthday barbecue party? I don’t feel prepared for this.”

Jake groaned. “Oh great, I forgot your dad is such a Maverick fanboy. Of course.” He closed his eyes in a mixture of misery and defeat.

“Jake,” you breathed in deeply and covered his shoulders with your hands, mindful of not dropping nacho dust on his shirt. “Jake,” you began again, “I’ve never told you this, but this is the first time when I realized how absolutely invaluable you are to me as a best friend.”

“I’m seriously regretting telling you this.”

You nibbled on your lip. “I think I scared Jake off with my … how do I say it … domineering admiration for Maverick. I’m getting the feeling he’s embarrassed of me. You have no idea how quickly he dashed the moment we arrived here.”

Natasha appeared nonchalant at your worries while she took a bite from her noodle salad on her paper plate. “Not possible. I’ve only met you yesterday and can affirm that man couldn’t be closer to you. Hangman was probably held up by something. Or he’s just elevating his testosterone level with Rooster again. You met the birthday kid already?”

“Nope.” At the mention, your hands tightened around the food container.

A soothing smile tugged on Natasha’s lips. “Deep breaths. You can’t miss him.” She pointed outside to the backyard. “He’s the guy at the grill, in the sunglasses and Hawaiian shirt. If he has a mustache, you’ve gone too far.”

“Got it.” You exhaled quietly and reminded yourself under your breath, “No mustache, Hawaiian shirt.”

“You’ll survive, don’t worry.” Natasha looked behind her. “Rooster, take her with you. She wants to meet the birthday man in question.”

“Sure.” Bradley stepped forward and offered his arm.

Your body acted on pure instinct.

“Holding my hand, alright, that’s fine.”

You only mouthed in gratitude, “Thank you.”

They walked a few steps onto the lawn when Bradley looked around. “Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Nat told me he was probably wrestling in the mud with you to assert his dominance.” You cleared your throat when you realized something. “And not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever you say. Just making sure where you two stand if he sees us standing together, holding hands.”

“Jake Seresin is not my dad,” you said absentmindedly when a dark-haired man caught your eye. Your throat felt dry. “Is that him?”

“As everyone keeps telling me.” Bradley approached the man standing behind the grill. “I found someone who wants to send their birthday wishes, Mav.”

Maverick revealed a crooked smirk. “Is that so?” You could feel his curious gaze through his sunglasses. “You’re a new face.”

“Um, yeah. I’m Jake’s friend.”

“Hangman has friends?”

“I know it’s a first for everybody,” you admitted. Knowing that Bradley and Jake were at least on speaking terms, and with Jake inviting you to Maverick’s barbecue party, you elaborated, “He needs some time to let people get close.”

Bradley gasped. “You don’t say.”

You focused on Maverick. “A few days ago, Jake invited me to your birthday. Hope that’s okay. I brought you peach cobbler as a present.”

At the mention, Bradley’s head whipped around. “Jesus, why didn’t you just go with that?”

Maverick moved his glasses until they laid atop his head and his eyes were uncovered. “You had me at cobbler.” He rubbed his hands against his jeans. “Bradley, you mind taking over the grill for a bit?”

“Fine. Get me a beer along the way?”

“Sure.” Maverick faced you again when he led you towards the table filled with food. “I didn’t catch your name?”

Just being in Maverick’s company felt surreal. You tried to restrain yourself from appearing too much like a crazy person.

“Um, Y/N … L/N. You’re Maverick?” Nervously, you stroked a curl of hair behind your ear. Even saying that name while standing right in front of him felt out of this world.

“Pete’s just fine.” His expression turned inquisitive. “Did Hangman tell you stories or did I miss something?”

You swallowed thickly. “My dad’s a big fan of yours. He’s a pilot in the Air Force. Told me stories ever since I was a kid. Your flight maneuvers have been legendary.”

He smiled at the devotion in your voice. “Still are.” You adored that playful glint in his eyes still shining through.

“Definitely. You probably get this all the time.”

“Want a beer?” After seeing you nod, he gave you a bottle. “Sometimes. Although, that kind of reverie I’m not used to.”

To calm your nerves, you downed some alcohol. “Really? Okay, I’ll try to control myself. However, Iceman’s skills were far-” Your eyes widened at your blabbing mouth before you covered it. “I’m sorry, too much liquid courage.”

Pete—even thinking that name felt strange—released guffaws of laughter at your gaffe. “Hey, it’s still my birthday!”

“I know, I’m sorry. Happy birthday, Ma-Pete.”

~ Jake POV ~

“Hey, Hangboy, I need to have a word with you,” Jake heard Natasha’s hard voice a few feet away from them as he hung out with the boys. Despite that, the concept of strength in numbers didn’t make him feel safe, judging by her vehemence.

He swallowed at the dark glare in Nat’s eyes. “Vernacular?”

Natasha didn’t appreciate the humor and crossed her arms, letting uncomfortable silence fester around them.

Jake pressed his lips together. “Bad timing?”

“Someone ever say you’re a bad friend?”

Without hesitation, he replied dryly, “You. Every morning when I show up to work.”

“I had to send Bradley in Y/N’s direction because she was nervous about meeting Maverick.”

He groaned at the thought, throwing his head back. “Oh, poor Y/N. Being forced onto the company of that dull-stache? Sounds horrible.” Jake checked his surroundings, hoping to pick them up.

There was something about Natasha’s innocent eyes, with murder in her eyes, that unsettled him deeply.

“You make me want to punch you in the gut. And you know I grew up with brothers. I know how to make it look like an accident.”

Jake dropped the drink he was holding on a nearby table. “I have a plan.”

Natasha tilted her head in fascination. “Wow, your brain can actually do that? Could’ve fooled me. What does that even look like?”

He drew nearer at the sound of her challenge. “It’s called giving each other space. Did I miss something or why are you so gung-ho when it comes to Y/N? Do we need to have a talk?”

“Five minutes in her company and I already know how she’s too good for you.”

Something bitter settled in his stomach at the mere mention. As if he didn’t already know. He smiled tensely. “Thanks for the reminder, Phoenix. Do I need to save her from Rooster?”

Natasha waved a hand. “Not to worry. Y/N is having fun with Bob.”

His mind went blank, trying to process her words. Jake pursed his lips, feeling confused. “Wait—w—why—what are you saying? Bob? Bob with the glasses? Or is there another Bob I should know?”

Natasha hummed, analyzing his reaction. She chose to unnerve him further by chuckling maniacally. “Cake stand. Have fun.” And with that she left.

Jake whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes. The food area instantly caught his eye. Y/N stood with Bob and was laughing uproariously. It felt X-Files-strange to watch that anomaly. Y/N arched her back and patted Bob’s shoulder, with a plate of cake slice in her hand.

Feeling perturbed by the macabre reality, Jake imagined Y/N being into Bob of all people. He frowned at that scenario, whispering, “Bob?”

~ Y/N POV ~

You held your stomach. Your cheeks were hurting from uncontrollable laughter, as you were trying to breathe. “Oh my God, Bob, that’s so-”

Jake inched closer with a small smile on his face. “What’s so funny?” He draped his arm over Y/N’s shoulder and reached for her dessert plate, either so she wouldn’t drop it or to have a taste himself. Without looking at him, you placed it into his hands.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. “Why didn’t you tell me that Bob is so funny?”

Jake swallowed before coughing. “You learn something new every day. Still waters, huh?”

Bob smiled awkwardly.

Upon seeing his reaction, you spoke up, “I always hated that saying. Bob’s an absolute sweetheart.” To reinforce your point to him, you rubbed Bob’s shoulder.

Bob adjusted his glasses while blushing. “I try my best, ma’am.”

“Bob!” You chuckled in mock outrage, swatting lightly against his chest.

He nodded with a small smile. “Yes, Y/N, affirmative.”

“We’re getting to know each other. I just found out that Bob’s from Montana and his momma used to be a Grizzlies mascot. Personally, I’m more of a Saints girl, but to each their own.”

Jake groaned, with his mouth full. “I’m eating here,” he muttered indignantly. Jake swallowed his food. “What did I ever do to you? The last time we did this, we had the Cowboys/Saints-gate.”

You leaned your head back against Jake’s chest, patting his cheek consolingly. “He’s such a big baby.”

Bob pressed his lips together. “Uh, I think I hear my name. I need to say hello to Maverick real quick.”

You reached out with your arm. “Oh, do put your feelers out if the birthday guy is still fine with me after I was blabbing my mouth about g-loc and Iceman’s record stats.”

“He’s probably fine.”

“But still!” You called out against his back as he left.

It was turning out to be a quiet evening, you realized, rubbing your feet.

Jake stepped into the living room, drying his moist hair with a towel. He leaned his shoulder against the doorway, watching you. “Would you look at that.”

You were transfixed on the film playing on Jake’s TV while you snuggled deeper under the towel on the couch. “What’s up?”

Jake decided to join you on the couch and put your feet on his lap. He spread his legs comfortably. Unconsciously, warming your heels. “You know, feels like old times. You sitting on my couch, taking all the blankets.”

You covered your eyes, with a groan, and leaned your head back. “You make me sound like a mooch. I offered to go to a hotel.”

“Hey, that’s not what I meant.” Jake chuckled. You felt the warmth of his hand when he reached for yours. Before you could blink, Jake stared deeply into your eyes and interlaced your fingers together. With a smile, he whispered, “I missed this. Feels like old times.”

With blushing cheeks, you felt your skin tingling at sitting so close to him. It was moments like these that made you question the nature of your friendship. You swallowed at seeing Jake’s sage-green eyes sparkle. His soft smile was making it hard to breathe.

You whispered, “Me too.”

“You know what else I miss? And what I can’t stop thinking about?”

You swallowed thickly, licking your lips. Feeling uncertain by his thought process, you slowly asked, “Which is what?”

Jake inched closer. “How I used to do this.” He tilted his head, rubbing his wet hair into the crook of your neck.

“You jerk!” You giggled from his attack. It made him seem more like a dog than a human when he was content in brushing his wet hair against your skin.

He grumbled lowly, as his warm breath puffed against your skin. “But this feels really nice. I could stay like this forever,” he said with a hum.

Your phone emitted a notification sound. “You’re an idiot.” Slapping against his forehead to push him away, deep chuckles followed you while your focus switched to your phone.

“You hungry? I could whip up some chicken teriyaki for us? I think I got some sauce in the cabinet. I know how much you love your teriyaki.” He groaned while standing up.

Giggles left your mouth when you read the incoming messages.

Jake turned his head. “Your girlfriends miss you already?”

You bit your lip. “No, it’s Bob just being sweet.”

Blinking slowly, Jake tried to process the words you just uttered. He cleared his throat. Jake’s voice turned slightly high-pitched. “Come again?” He coughed, placing his hands on his waist. “Are we talking about the same Bob? Bob Bob?”

You hummed in agreement without looking up.

He mumbled, “Didn’t know you guys already exchanged numbers. That’s quick, … right?”

With a curious gaze, you looked up. “What do you mean?”

Jake paused. “What do you mean?” He licked his lips, backtracking a bit. “With, you know, Bob … being a total sweetheart.”

You smiled fondly at the memory of the barbecue. “Well, he is. I really loved talking to him.”

With grumbling breaths, Jake puffed his chest. “Really?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yep, it was fun.”

“As you keep mentioning,” Jake murmured.

“I did some thinking,” you spoke, “and I was wondering, how would you feel about doing karaoke night with your squad?”

At first, Jake had a look of appreciation which took a turn to disappointment. “But karaoke night is our thing,” he said, pointing between them.

“I know, but this could be like a bonding thing. You’d get to know them, I’d get to know them and we could have fun together. Win-win!”

He sighed deeply, letting his shoulders drop. “You’re far too invested in this.”

“I don’t want them to remember me as the friend who didn’t want to bother with them.”

Jake’s voice turned into a soothing murmur. “They wouldn’t dare think that.”

With a whisper, you enunciated, “Not if we do karaoke night. It’s going to be fun, I promise.”

[mynameismckenziemae]

hello!! i was wondering if you could write a sub!jake seresin x reader smut where he was being naughty during a night out, and he needs to be punished when he gets home? (mommy or ma’am as names preferably) you have total creative freedom with this and of course you don’t have to do this, but i love your work and you write sub!jake better than anyone i’ve seen ☺️💞

I…have no words. Dirty smut below the cut 👇🏻✂️

MDNI!

It had been a busy week. Between your crazy schedule and Jake’s, you had hardly seen each other, and unfortunately hadn’t had time for more intimacy than a quick kiss goodbye in the mornings. So maybe it was your fault Jake was acting out Friday night at the Hard Deck.

It started innocently enough. Jake would slide his hand in the back pocket of your jeans to squeeze your butt while you bent over to shoot pool, finish your drink (that he paid for) when it was your turn at darts, changing the song on the jukebox every time Rooster turned one on. But all was quickly forgotten when he gave you that cheeky little grin.

“What’s he up to?” Nat asks, catching on to your exchanges, “no good?”

You hum in agreement as you both watch him walk towards the bar.

Your attention shifts when as she talks about the new recruits that started this week…and how much of an asshole Jake had been to them.

“…In his defense, they are kind of stupid,” she laughs, as she takes the pool cue offered from Bob to sink the 8 ball, “but I think he forgets he was green once too, ya know?”

“He does,” you agree with a sigh, leaving out that he’s wound tight from nearly a week with no sex.

Your phone buzzes a moment later and the video attached from Jake has you choking on your drink.

He’s jerking himself with fast, determined strokes in one of the bathroom stalls.

You: Don’t you dare cum.

He reads your message as soon as you send it but his reply doesn’t come until a few minutes later, instantly making you realize what he’s been asking for all night by pushing your buttons.

Jake: Too late

Attached is picture of the evidence. His fist coated in cum.

A wave of heat washes over you before settling between your thighs.

You: We’re leaving. Now.

“I think we’re gonna head out,” you say casually as you put your phone back in your pocket.

“Yep, he’s up to no good,” Nat says to herself with a smile in her voice as you walk towards the bathrooms.

The squad had quickly caught on that by complaining to you about Jake will get his attitude adjusted. How it gets adjusted stays between the two of you.

.•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•.

“Give me your keys,” you say as walk out the back door, “I’m driving.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies with a grin, dropping them into your outstretched hand.

“Smile all you want,” you tell him as you get in the driver’s seat, “you won’t be by the end of the night.”

“Whatever you say,” he chuckles as he fastens his seatbelt.

He has no idea what you have in store from him.

.•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•.

You bite the inside of your cheek to not smile as Jake begins to fidget when you don’t say a word on the ride back to your shared home. The closer you get, the antsier he gets; you can almost hear the turmoil inside him as he regrets his actions while anticipating the consequences.

“Go upstairs, and get naked,” you say quietly as you turn off the truck, “I’ll be up in a few minutes. I expect you to be standing with your nose in the corner when I get there.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, finally accepting his fate.

.•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•.

Already wearing his favorite lingerie, you strip off your clothes in the laundry room before slowly climbing the stairs.

He’s doing exactly as you asked; his feet shoulder-width apart as he stands in the corner like a scolded little boy. His hands are folded above his taut butt and the muscles above in his back tense when he hears you enter the room.

“Why are you in the corner, Jake?” You ask, trailing your fingertips down his back.

“Because I came after you told me not to,” he answers.

“Mhmm, and?” You prompt as you pinch each tight buttcheek.

“I-uh…I kept changing Rooster’s songs?” He guesses.

“That too,” you agree, “to be honest, Roo’s taste of music is questionable. What else?”

“Ah,“ he nods as he remembers, “I finished your drink when you were up at darts.”

“Yes, but you’re still missing something.”

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t remember,” he says after thinking a moment and sucks in a breath when your hand slaps his ass.

“A little bird told me you were being an ass to the new recruits this week,” you say, slapping the other side.

“Fucking Phoenix,” he mutters as his head drops forward, hissing when you spank him again on each side until his skin is pink and warm.

“Can’t even take responsibility for your own actions,” you sigh as you turn to your bedside drawer.

He jumps at the click of the lube being opened and you smile as you step back to him. A quick look down shows he’s hard and dripping precum onto the floor.

“Hold yourself open,” you tap his ass with your clean hand.

He whimpers in humiliation but obeys, gasping when your cold finger begins to circle his hole. When he relaxes, you ease a finger in.

A groan leaves him when you add a second finger and brush his prostate; bumping it every so often as you pump your fingers to keep him on his toes.

He sighs in relief when you pull your fingers out. But it’s in vain, because a plug quickly replaces it.

“Fuckkkk,” he whines in a high pitch when you turn on the vibration on low.

“Put your hands back to where they were,” you murmur, kissing between his shoulder blades before you walk away.

You pick up Jake’s leather belt from his dresser on the way back to the bedroom after washing your hands.

You loop it around your hand and slap it against your palm, smiling at the way he flinches.

“I’m sorry ma’am, not the belt,” he begs, as if he isn’t dying to feel the bite of the leather, “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Too late,” you repeat the words from his text back to him, “how many recruits are in this class?”

“12, ma’am.”

“That’s a good number,” you say, “assume the position, Jake.”

He shudders before putting his hands out in front of him on the wall before arching his back to present your target; his ass.

“Count out loud and thank me for each one,” you order, running your fingertips down his spine and making him keen when you nudge the plug before taking a step back.

The snap of leather meeting skin followed by Jake’s moan brings your simmering arousal to a boil.

“One, thank you ma’am.”

Fuck that’s hot.

The next one lands directly below the first welt.

“Two, thank you ma’am.”

You’re breathing hard by the time you’re done painting the left cheek red with four more slaps; he is too. His ass clenches as his hips thrust in search of any type of friction.

You shift to the right to start on the right.

“S-six,” he stutters, “thank you ma’am.”

The temptation to touch yourself worsens with each lash. Jake’s not doing any better; his toes are curling and his hands clench into fists against the wall.

“Last one,” you pant before bringing the belt down a final time.

“Twelve!” It’s a broken shout, “thank you, ma’am.”

You drop the belt and step forward to grip his fiery-red, burning skin in each hand and squeeze.

“Learn your lesson yet?” You breathe, kissing his trembling back.

“Yes ma’am,” he pleads, “let me show you how good I can be.”

“…soon,” you murmur, smiling at his frustrated cry before sneaking under his outstretched arms so you’re between him and the wall. You’d be trapped if you weren’t in control.

“Watch me,” you whisper, leaning forward to brush his lips with yours. His expression is desperate and hungry.

A drop of precum lands on your feet and he moans just as you do at the first brush of your fingers to your clit.

Your eyes don’t leave his as you pleasure yourself and when you’re on the knifes edge, you reach out.

“Wa-wait, wanna cum inside you-“ he protests but your grip tightens as you find your release with a soft cry and he cums too, painting your stomach white.

“You’re not off the hook yet,” you murmur lazily, trailing wet fingers from your release through the mess he made before bringing them to his lips, “if you want to cum inside me, you’ve gotta earn it.”

.•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•. .•*•.