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seventhcallisto · 6 months

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Chapter VI — "lips & hips."

Deep down.

Toc/cw: mdni!!!!!!!!! MATURE CONTENT!! Kissing. Cuddling. Unprotected shower sex(don't worry, men have unrealistic birth control). Fingering. Biting. Knotting. Grinding/humping. Orgasm w/o penentration(?) Idk how to cw. Orgasms x2(f. Receiving) hwa is a moaner and loud. Overestimming. Slight ooc hwa. Seonghwa is a hard dom for 00.2 sentences. slight angst. Crying. Love confession sort of. Fluff. I probably forgot some (I'll check later).

Pet names/nns: angel, mega, omega(yours) hwa(seonghwas) joongie(hongjoongs)

Wc: 12.3k

The Morning is already tiring, you're a jelly mess as seonghwa helps guide you to the bathroom. You're hardly carrying yourself as soon as you cross the threshold of your door, exhausted and spent.

Your legs ache and seonghwa mentions how they have to stop putting your knees over their shoulders so you aren't so sore. How the hell does he know? Seonghwas hands guide your hips, pushing you forward. You stop to watch wooyoung beg to be let pass,

Yunho leans against it to block you from view like some type of bodyguard. The sight is sorrowful and funny, wooyoung is begging and as an older member, yunho has the upper hand. Seonghwa is urging your wobbly legs forward before you can say anything.

Finally you're standing at the base of the wide tub, watching a pink bath bomb dissolve. The glass doors are slid to the side so you can step inside. Petals floating to the surface as the water turns a soft pink. It's cute. Your smile captures seonghwas fancy.

“Yeosang put that in,” he hums, closing the door. Of course he did, yeosang is your squishy love bug. From years of sharing hotel rooms and bathroom routines that consist of you two brushing your teeth at the sink and wearing face masks.

You, teaching him about how your products work for your own skin compared to his. He already knew but his small smile as he watches you explain tells you he didn't mind listening. You smile at the memory of it all, the isolated heating keeps all the warm air in. You're beginning to sweat at how hot it is in the bathroom.

Seonghwa decides to help you strip, of course, he loves playing caretaker. He asks before he does- having you sit on the edge of the tub while he tilts your hips up to slide off the briefs. You groan at the twist. More sore from the angle. A sorry smile stretches across seonghwas features, tossing the briefs in the dirty laundry basket.

You have half a mind to be embarrassed, but your shirt somehow falls over your areas and blocks him from looking. Just as you realize your shirt needs to come off next. So sudden, your stomach is twisting intensely, the feeling is familiar. But not so much so you realize what it is.

Seonghwa bends down in front of you, you don't move, you hardly make a sound. He tilts your chin up towards him with his pointer finger to get you to notice him. Leaning his hands on either side of you, against the tub. “I can leave if that's what you want.” He says sincerely. You shake your head quickly. His scent pushes out to calm you.

And for some reason you now feel completely bendable to whatever he wants you to do. You know that feeling. When you got it with yunho and even as soon as hongjoong made it obvious what he wanted.

Your hands reach out to grab him, pulling him close. Before you realize what you're doing, your mouth is attached to his neck, just resting there for a moment. Hands kneading and twisting into his hair pass the dark locks. Seonghwa laughs gently. His pulse thumping where your lips meet. He twists his arms behind your back. letting you know he's there, even when your scent begins to shift and grow heavier.

When it gets sweeter and leaves him swallowing thickly. And just for a minute you calm down at him being there. Calm down when his neck is latched between your lips like a leech. You place a kiss on the spot after unhooking from it. You don't want to let go of seonghwa. So, as a way to say that, you wrap your arms around his neck. Holding him for a moment.

He lets you, and God- does it make your heart skip. Seonghwa, who usually pushes away any super affectionate touching, is letting you latch onto him like some touch starved girl. Which, you feel as if you are for the moment. His embrace eases that feeling. Tough and soft at the same time.

“I love you” you mumble, sincerity dripping off your words. He hums, rubbing his thumb up and down on your back. “I love you” he inhales softly as he pulls back, your hands strain to let him go. He looks you in the eyes so deeply, you have a hard time not feeling the sincerity of them. “I love you more” you grin. Giddy. He laughs gently, a soothing sound.

He doesn't argue, but he has a look that tells you he loves you the most. Lovesick and sweet, if his eyes could. They'd be heart shaped whenever he looks at you. He helps you take off your shirt, playing with the tip of it to avoid peeping. You subconsciously wrap your arms around yourself.

It's not that you're shy being naked. Actually. Yes, it's exactly that. Wearing revealing stage outfits and performing in front of millions is nothing when you're naked in front of seonghwa. He's the only eyes you care about at the moment. Yet he doesn't seem to care about your nakedness. Tossing your shirt away with the briefs. He turns back to you. “Want me to wash your hair?”

You almost laugh at the innocence of it. Your face lights up instead. “Yes please” he helps you step in, telling you to lean on him for guidance. You watch seonghwa take a seat outside the bathtub. His knees must ache from the hard floor. Frowning, you pull your knees to your chest. “Aren't you getting in?” You swirl the petals around, they follow in sporadic patterns after your fingertips.

It's photographic, you look very imaginary to seonghwa, eyes wide with that sparkle, beckoning him to join you. If he's the sexiest member, then you're the most ethereal. He blinks, once, then twice. The question is odd but he wants to indulge you. “no- I'm getting in” he breathily says, quickly. He nods to hide it, gulping back the lump in his throat.

Close proximity like this makes his heart skip. You aren't usually so needy for affection. Seonghwa has known that about you for years. Yet, you want him as close. It's intimate. It's strange. But, he loves you. So he doesn't care if you'll be embarrassed about it later. He likes when you're needy. He knows you're still in a different mindset. A mindset that's almost truth-inducing. Letting your thoughts come to the surface and have light shed on them.

He strips his black shirt off first. Neatly, he folds it and lays it off to the side of the counter. Back turned towards you. Any jewelry, which has already been taken off earlier from cooking. He hears the slap of the water as you move, turning and swishing the water around with your body.

As soon as he's done unbuttoning his pants and stripping everything. He's lowering himself into the spot across from you. The water is hot, not burning, but soothingly hot. You've turned away from him to give him decency.

“Hand me the shampoo” he tells you. You do as he says, leaning up to grab it on the edge. It's an inexpensive but very trustworthy brand, not really scented. Your fingers caress as you hand it to him over your shoulder. “Should I wash yours?” You ask.

Seonghwa looks up from the lather on his hands to the back of your head. “I washed my hair this morning,” he hums. Fingers threading through the top of your scalp to bubble the shampoo. Your eyebrows furrow.

“Why did you get in with me then?” You say back. Now you wonder why you even asked him to join you. Heat of the moment? You can't see it but he's smiling at your pouty tone. “‘Cause you asked” he answers, his forehead creasing as he focuses on working his fingers through your hair, rubbing the base of your neck. You shudder, pulling your knees closer. A reactive thing.

“You didn't have too” you huff, leaning your head back towards him when he pulls gently to spread it through the top of your head. He stands up to grab the showerhead from his side of the bathtub. “I wanted to,” he simply says. Your heart leaps. Heat creeping to your ears, should that even affect you that much?.. no. It really shouldn't. You're sharing a bath together. You jump at the sound of running water.

You're in the bath. Together. Seonghwa leans the shower head against your hair. It's not hot, a bit cold, you know it's because he didn't want to burn you. You shiver at the coldness. The squeak of the knob protests as seonghwa turns it warmer. Ever so keen on your reactions, so very attentive.

The prickle of tears pokes the corner of your eyes. Now you feel- well, you're crying. Why, though? You don't really know. You don't think you've ever been this doted on- Don't know the last time someone took care of you. Rather than you taking care of yourself. Actually. You don't know the last time you let someone take care of you.

Yes, how could you be so dull. Many times, your members have tried. And jongho? He's so obvious about it. You've got idols coming up to ask you if you're dating based on the attention he shows you. He wants to take care of you so badly. He takes your baggage at the airport but stops when you say no.

He gives you his jacket whenever he has one. Even letting you hang back with him instead of participating, lets you lean on him when you're anxious before an interview. He lets you get your way. Let's you use his card even when you have your own, so adamant about proving he can take care of it.

And yunho, you can't forget him dropping everything to help you, can't forget he willingly came to see you and stopped your clingy ex from making a scene, even made you laugh to cheer you up. You obviously can't forget the way he looks at you like you're the world and everything great about it. And he even buys you food when he gets his own, tells you all the time he just got extra.

Who claims his spot next to you any place and time you have to sit for interviews, said so because he likes how it makes you look so small. Maybe you really are delusional- and Hongjoong. You love joong so much. From many nights spent together working until dawn on songs and repeating lines.

To being the only trainees in the entire company, two trainees who didn't speak the same language, and yet still finding a way to communicate. For years together. You know he works hard, knows he doesn't have to see you every morning before he checks out to the studio.

But he does anyway. You know he's got a lot on his shoulders, yet he still makes time to check up on you. Include you in his projects. Lets you listen to all of his demos. Takes your feedback to heart. Encourages you to get a producer tag. Goes as far as to give you any of his passwords so you can use his production aquitment.

Even buying clothes he knows you like the texture of just so your hands cling to him more. You're beginning to realize the same goes for yeosang, purposefully leaving his hoodies around so you wear them and smell like him. Even that first moment yeosang looked at you wearing his shirt after he asked you too, his sharp eyes clouding.

You realize none of them had asked that before. Was it because they were too scared to ask you? You have always been private with your affections before lately, it had been drilled into you not too. Somehow, yeosang was the first person to ask and he never mentioned it again, never hinted at anything about you wearing his clothes ever.

Now, he's much more touchy and vocal. His pretty mouth always complimenting you under his breath. Eyes always scanning your features when you passionately talk. Letting you hold his hands and never pulls away. You don't know if the sudden change was because of your assigned sex but you believe he just got more comfortable knowing you're okay with it, knowing you're reciprocating it.

With all of them being there. And you are. You're finally able to let someone else take care of you.

And even lately. Mingi is so clingy, you love that type of attention even if you don't say it. Mingi who has given you space because the guys told him he's too rough, who's waiting his turn patiently- when you know he's so eager and never ever patient. Mingi, when he gets food and gives you the first bite.

In your comments every live you do with atiny. Pokes and prods for any type of affection and praise. Uses his aegyo to get whatever he wants from you. Says he'd marry you because you're a full package and you take care of him well. His words, unprovoked.

When asked to choose between all the members. He said your name asap. When stranded on an island. He said he'd take you. And, you find that hilarious, cause he could have taken anything else, water, a boat, food, a way to get out, but he said he'd take you.

San, you'd never forget how he follows you backstage everywhere. Whines whenever you spend too much time with another idol. Clings to you when you're getting your face done because he knows you can't shrug him off, or you'll mess up your makeup.

When he stares at you, and it's so often, you have to tell him to stop before someone gets the wrong impression. When San ‘accidently’ scares other idols off because well- he's built compared to how he was when he was a couple of ages ago. When not long ago he wasn't able to pick you up, and now he does it whenever he wants too. And you let him cause his grip is so tight and his smile is so big you can't help but give in.

Not excluding how he acts up on stage, or during your parts together, he can't get that sly grin off his face, or won't stop staring at your lips when you're singing- or rapping right in front of him.

Aswell as when wooyoung clings to you, wraps his strong arms around you and doesn't let you go until you give him what he wants. Says you're his soulmate, even when you mention yeosang or san, he says you're his other half, and he can't live in a world with only half of himself.

Even happily leans in to almost kiss you in front of a crowd just because you pouted at him. Begs for your attention when you don't respond to his questions, even if he said it two seconds prior. Literally can't breathe without you in his proximity sometimes.

His words, not yours, he said it so boldly behind the scenes you two had together. Like it was nothing. Woo, who you know watches your solo fancams. Cause you caught him once. And the only thing he said was “I'm supporting my girl friend” grinning so proudly and pretended he didn't hint at the connotation behind it. “I’m not a girl, I’m a woman” you'd casually say, shutting the door and cutting off any more communication.

Wow, for the first time in years. Maybe you're realizing they haven't sought you out —even though they love you— because you were pushing them away. Not giving them the time of day and continuously denying their affections. You did notice, but maybe you pretended it wasn't true. Didn't think you could have a happy ending with them if you went through with it. But they're here, and they're even telling you they love you, they've been telling you. because they do, they love you.

Seonghwa is proving that to you right now. Feeding you, bathing you, caressing you, letting you hug on him so much so you know wooyoung would be jealous. Taking care of you. Seonghwa pulls his hand back from your scalp, the sorrowful smell is coming from you and he's starting to rapidly think he did something wrong. His hand lands on your shoulder, his head peeking past your hair as he bends forward, water sloshes when he does so.

“What's wrong?” He says so sweetly, your tears begin to flow the most now. You hate crying, why do you do it so much nowadays? “Nothing, I'm just- I'm happy” you huff out, swiping at your tears as you lean your head back on his shoulder. “Oh Angel,” he coos, grabbing your chin, his thumb rubs a soothing stripe, his fingers encasing your neck. “I know it's something else” he stares between your eyes. You feel embarrassed, of course he was gonna know. Of course he's noticing it's something else, cause seonghwas got a perfect sense of smell when it comes to you.

“I'm sorry I'm noticing so late” you cry gently, lip trembling. “I'm sorry I didn't notice it sooner, I was scared” you turn away when seonghwas hand falls away, rubbing up and down your arm. “Scared you wouldn't like me back, I was - upset cause- I knew- I thought you all wouldn't be okay with it.. I wanted to be with you. I want to be your girlfriend. All of you. I didn't know I could have that.” You sob through words.

Seonghwa would say this sudden rush of emotion is partially because of your heat, it's also you. Something you've built up and finally is popping due to some tlc. His arms wrap around your waist, maneuvering you to face him. You let him do so, lighter in the pink water. In all your nakedness, your completely vulnerable in front of him.

Telling him exactly how you feel and trusting him with it. He places two heavy palms against your face, caging your cheeks in. He stares, and stares. So many thoughts, words, and things he could do in the moment. “I've wanted you for so long” he says instead. Pushing out a memory from years ago to the surface.

“When we were both younger- Especially when I was first joining, you were the first person that I wanted to see most often.” He tugs on his bottom lip. “I thought you were the prettiest person ever. Cool too. I had never seen someone like you before. I thought “is she from a different place?” I didn't know you could exist. I thought you were something else entirely.'' he nods into his words, you hiccup.

Clenching your palms around his wrist tenderly. “I've been in love with you since I met you. I would have followed you anywhere. I still will. I’ll gladly share, it just means they notice how amazing you are. And so does atiny. You're worth everything to those seven guys out there. And me. I promise, you could have been decades late and i still would have said yes.” maybe Seonghwa is spilling his guts here. But how your eyes sparkle with unshedded tears, face so puffy and lips so dainty, he feels the need to be honest.

Images flash over the years, you in different hair colors. Outfits, stages. He's got everything about you memorized. You're addicting and your personality gives him whiplash. Good whiplash. The type that makes him so flustered on camera if he catches you watching him talk.

The type that makes him feel so bold on stage, letting loose. The type of good whiplash he's getting from watching you. Honest for the first time in years. He loves this, he shouldn't, but he does. He loves holding you, loves having you lean on him emotionally. Just so he can tell you everything he completely means.

He wants to show the world he loves you. Tell the world he wants you to be his partner for life. He wants to be your mate. He knows he can't have that luxury yet, you're hardly even dating and you're still both so very young.

Got many years ahead, yet he wants it sooner than ever. He knows he can't show you off like that or else it's a scandal and the media would flip.

Your hands surround his face, holding his jaw. Your eyes slot close as you pull him into your puffy lips, telling him everything he needs to know with your fragile kiss. He breaths into you, capturing you into him ever so gradually. When you pull away, he's leaning his head into your neck and you do the same. Staying there for a second. Pushing his scent out for you.

There's no need to talk when seonghwa threads his hands through the rest of your hair to evenly spread the conditioner. You're scrubbing your body free from the actions of this week. You're feeling cleaner, but more exposed without yunho, or hongjoongs scent on you. Thankfully, yunho and hongjoong have a thing for biting.

The marks are evidence that they were there with you. Your finger passes over the scabbing bite on your inner thigh. Seonghwa peppers your shoulder with kisses when he pulls your hair over to rinse it. Soft and innocent. The feeling is homely and docile. He pats your hip to have you stand up so you can both rinse off the remnants of the bath water and soap.

The shower head connects to the top of the tub. You watch the marble pattern of white and pink drain from under your feet, letting the warmth from the new water beat down on your shoulders. Seonghwa is just outside the water, standing behind you and moving your hair around to rinse it. You pull it from his hand, turning to face him.

“aren't you cold?” You ask. Squeezing the ends. He shakes his head. “No..” he trails off looking away, too shy to meet your gaze. Although you both are naked, having been in the bath for a bit longer than you should have, he's still trying to be respectful and avoid looking at you inappropriately. “Liar” you laugh, sticking your hand out to grab him and pull him under the stream with you. He closes his eyes with a smile, water cascading down his face. You're closer because the stream of water doesn't spread far. You squeeze the last soapy drops out of your hair.

Something about seonghwa just letting the water fall over him has you staring. Water that flicks off his closed eyelashes and drips over the curve of his lips. When he pulls his hands up to push his hair back. You watch his biceps flex. His lips part to blow away the water that drips into his mouth. Missing you by a centimeter. Like some type of commercial, seonghwa looks beautiful just pushing his hair back. His eyes part, as if he feels you staring.

A piece of his black hair flicking over his forehead, his eyebrow raises. Your lip tugs up, caught red handed. “sorry” you bite your lip looking away. “You're staring” he blatantly says. Sharp eyes scanning you, he steps back from the shower stream so you can have it. “I know, it's hard not too” you mumble, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, closing your eyes under the patter of water.

You flick your hair once, then throw it over your back. Seonghwas hand finds your waist, flat as he palms it around your back, tugging you into him so you both are under the water. His humming is a buzz against your chest. You part your eyes through the water, lacing your hands around his neck. It's cute, it's nice. Not something you'd ever think you'd indulge in. You flicker water over his face when you blow it out of your mouth.

Apologizing quietly as he closes his eyes and grimaces. “sorry” you swipe your hand against his face, he's acting as if you spat on him. You laugh when he turns away from your palm. “You spat all over me” he groans, still holding onto you. Both hands this time pressed against your back. “no I didn't, it's just water” you gleam, lips parting as your smile grows wider.

“‘Just water’ that came out of your mouth” the smile behind his words has you knowing he's playing with you. “Are you saying my mouth is gross?” you go to pull back, playing as petty as you can. His hands shoot up to lock you back into him, hands holding your arms there. A singular one of his eyes pops open.

“No, Your mouth is perfect,” he says clearly, leaning down to peck your lips. You pull away before he can, his lips landing half on your cheek. “Why kiss me if my mouth is gross?” You huff, stomping your foot. Seonghwa doesn't pull back, as if intentionally meaning to land there. He trails a kiss over your jaw, down the junction of your neck, and right over your primary glands. You tilt your head for him. Basking in the way his lips part the droplets of water on you.

“Fine, I'll kiss you everywhere else then.” He mumbles against your collarbone as his head dips. Your hands thread through his wet hair. Breathing heavier when he starts sucking. Already creating a hickey right above your collarbone, opposite of where Yunho bit you, he's nipping lightly with his two front teeth, teasingly. His hand trails, water cascading down his fingertips. His fingertips just scan the plump of your butt. And move over your hips. He kneads the skin there, dipping his fingertips to pull you further into him.

You're already beginning to shift your thighs. Needy, so needy. Seonghwas left hand slides down to lightly swipe your inner thigh so they open. You part them, sighing heavily when he pushes his digits through your heat, already pushing two into your wet core. He pays no mind to your clit, knowing the lack of stimulation will tease you.

Slowly dragging his fingers in and out, until the tip of them is in and he's drilling them back up. You wiggle, trying to hook anything against your most sensitive area, it's not enough. Your whimper has seonghwa smiling against the junction of your neck, he trails back up, sloppy kisses as he sucks and leaves ribbons of red splotches. He kisses your jaw and hovers just over your lips.

You want to lean up to catch his lips in yours, you whimper again when his fingers dig into your hip. You begin to unlatch yourself from his shoulder to trail your hands somewhere else. One hard flick of his wrist against your insides has your eyes clenching close, he stops not a second after, and you wiggle at the loss sensation building.

“don't move,” he says with a heavy tone, staring down at your expressions. So close, he's teasing you with his lips. “if you move, you don't get me” he pinches your chin between his fingers. Squishing your cheek with the hand that was just on your hip. He works his fingers slowly again. His palm slapping against your bud. You twitch forward into him. Trying to plant your feet so you aren't moving. His eyes dig for every reaction you have, soft drops of water trailing down his face and into yours.

It's hard to reach a high like this, but you're so desperate, he knows that. Hanging off every curve of his finger, every bend of his digits as they slip into you. Getting wetter with each slap of his palm against your bundle. So close, yet so far, you're not there yet, but you're trying to be.

The water is an added stimulus, dripping down both of your faces, and his palm. Flicking back on you and mixing with your slick. You're clenching. Trying to push that high closer. One more prod of seonghwas finger has your gasp getting stuck in your throat. A third finger slipping into you. He wiggles it with the other two, the fit is tight, you spread open further to take it. Seonghwa groans at that, glad at you presenting and opening further for him and just him in the moment.

You clench down again, and almost as soon as he stuck it in, the tightness loosened with more of your slick. He watches for every twitch of your eyebrow, every quiet moan. His eyes lidded. No attention to his aching cock straining against his stomach. Your fingers keep him grounded. Tugging at the end of his long hair. He gives in when he looks down at your wet lips.

Taking you into him with a singular breath. He moans into your mouth, as you do him, tugging and pulling into each other. His tongue slips in, pressing against your own. You taste how he'd imagine, so sweet, so willing. His fingers stop their antics.

It's enough prep for seonghwa. You clench one final time as he pulls them out, swallowing your whines. He pulls away to suck on your exposed glands. His hands falling away to grip your thighs, he tugs once to signal he's pulling you up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders tightly, lifting your thigh up against his hip so he can pull you in. He lifts you with ease, slotting down to his knees in the tub.

The press of his cock slides between you, it has you arching into it. Hard and throbbing for attention against your clit. You want it. “Hwa” you whine, grinding up into him. He slaps his hand down on your thigh, you jump into him. Continuing his assault on your neck with a strangled moan. Sloppily, his teeth scan over your gland, your head falls slack. You're puddy.

When his teeth are there, you're so tempted to beg him to mark you, mate you in your most delicate area. “Please hwa,” you grind up again, the ridge of his cock pressed between your folds, thighs flexing against his hips. Holding onto him close, he doesn't spank you that time. “Go on, use me” he whispers, teasing his teeth against your gland. You grind up again, with the help of his hands.

“Should I? Take you right here, make you mine.” His tone is heavy with desire. Your clit throbs and you buck, letting his cock catch against you. You clench around nothing, not yet filled, but so close to cumming from his fingers moments ago. You sob “Yes, make me yours'' you bite down on your tongue.

The water is nothing compared to the sensation of seonghwas cock burying between your folds and teasing your hole with every stroke, his hips stuttering up into you at your words. He knows you don't mean it, knows you're caught in the heat of the moment. Everything you say can be taken with a grain of salt. You twitch forward, grinding down, your clit drags against the top vein on his dick. His tongue lapping at the spot on your neck.

He helps you, guides you to press down with his fingers digging across the top of your thighs. Soft breaths at the humping of you. Your mouth falls over his shoulder, biting against the same spot you had him in earlier. Whimpering against his skin. He knows this is torture, for both of you, but he can't stop. You feel so good like this, and he knows as soon as he slips in, it's gonna be hard for him to wait for you to adjust.

“Hwa, I want you inside, please, please alpha” you beg. He doesn't answer. Your climax is arriving without you noticing it, gasping into his shoulder. His teeth scrape against your glands as he moves to bite just below it, making it prominent in the spot he chose. His jaw locks, you stutter up. A painful and sudden orgasm as you cum from just humping against him.

You huff and pant. Seonghwas hand prys between the both of you, gripping his cock tightly. He hisses, lightly guiding it back and forth so it presses against your hole.

You're still coming down when he pushes inside, moaning into your shoulder. He fits all the way to the hilt with a single drag of his hips upwards. Letting your walls flutter. You whine at the fill, he's big- big like yunho, display of veins that throb when he fully sheaths inside, you tremble from the extra stimulation. Panting against seonghwas ear.

His large hands pry against your thighs, and move up to your hips. He swings them forward for you when you lean against his chest. Breath stuttering. “‘s too much” you gasp, whimpering at the overstimulation. His head falls back. His eyes flutter close at the way you wrap him in, lips parting to breath. “You can take it” he bites back, “I know you can” his hands fall over each of your cheeks, pulling you as close as possible.

The water bill is gonna be high. But Seonghwa doesn't think about it. The water is just an extra sensation when the best one is your cunt so tightly sucking him in. He moans once more when you pull yourself forward and back. Helping him with the swirl of your hips. Still begging for more when you just came. He tugs his lip down into his teeth.

Might as well get you here if you're both being cleaned off. His thighs snap up against you as he buries back in again. Cock pounding against your cervix. A heavy rhythm of water sloshing between you two. Your hands pooling over his lean shoulders as you fall into him with every hard thrust. Your first orgasm is gone but your second one is building.

Seonghwa can feel it, you pulse and twitch. Squishy walls pulling him in and attempting to milk him. His cock throbs every so often. His hands pulling your ass forward with every pound of his pelvis. Your whimpers are dragging him on. Your lips pressing against his own scent glands.

The sting of his thighs aching so wonderfully as he feels himself building up with you. Your mouth latches against the gland, cutting off your moans. He snaps up, and your teeth drag against his skin. “Come on angel, I know you want to,” he moans. “bite me- auh- mark me as yours,” he whimpers, his eyes clenching. You moan too. Cunt clenching in response. The tip hitting your cervix. It has him airily chuckling and huffing curse words. “do it, do it-I want you to do it, ah- shit. ‘make you the happiest girl in the world” he bucks, knees sliding forward as he does so.

You must be tempted to do so. Your teeth prod into his flesh, not yet breaking skin, not even enough to leave a mark. Your hips swirl forward messily. Clit catching against the small patch of rough hair he has growing against his lower stomach. “I'll do you good omega, take care of you every night like the perfect mate-ah” his words trail off into a strangled moan.

“No- mmm- protection like this, no shitty- fuck- birth control, whenever we want” he stutters up, water dripping off his face as he turns it down to look at you on his shoulder. Mouth lulled open and eyes closed tightly shut. “hope it takes- give you some- shit-” you clench again, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips as he swirls you forward, using all his strength to pound his cock up into you. “Hwa- give me it’ all of it- plea- ah!” You get cut off as he pulls all the way out to just pound back into you. “im gonna give you it-” his hips snap up as yours snap down, full weight being pressed onto him.

“wanna pump you full of my cum until you're leaking- until you smell like me all the time- fuck- give you my all” he ruts up into you, knot beginning to grow. Watching the way you suck him in. Images of you every night, waiting for him floods his imagination. He has you here now, in the shower. Desperate to have you cumming hard, and marking him as yours. Muffling your moans in his neck.

“‘m gonna cum soon hwa-” you pull up to tell him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, he watches the water drip from your forehead and over your lips. “I want to mate- please- please mate me- meant to be yours- all of yours” you whine out between heavy pants and moans, staring back up into his eyes. Water pouring over your features as you struggle to swing your hips forward. He wants it so bad. Wants to make you his and give you everything you want, spoil you like his perfect little angel and have you whenever he wants.

The tense feeling in his stomach pops, his knot shooting out to interlock inside you. Hot spurts of cum as well splatters against your silky walls. You twitch and come just as quickly after, he moans into you as he falls back over your shoulder. He bites hard, doesn't even recognize where he does, but he knows it's not your primary spot. His hips rutting into you as he guides your hips for you. His free hand shoots out to hold onto the side of the tub as he doubles over into you. You wheeze loudly, biting into his shoulder. Hard enough to bleed, you twitch just as hard. Pulsing against the warmth surrounding your cunt.

He chants your name as you drain the last of his energy and cum. Biting on his tongue to quiet down. The water beats down on his back and falls over your face. Droplets that are clear and showcase the climax you just went through. He pants hard over the bite, opening his eyes gently to peer down at it. So close, so damn close to piercing your sensitive spot.

His knot stops growing in the quietness, the pattern of water padding down your back, legs still interlocked around him to keep him inside you. Intentionally or not, seonghwa wants it to be. He meant it, he wants his cum to stick and leave you full of him, his scent, his being.

He digs his nose into your neck, smelling you deeply in his lungs. His hands are tight around your back. Palms spread wide to keep you close. Breathing in tandem as you both come down from your highs. For a second he lets his hand reach out to pull up the bath plug so the water fills the tub. Water drips from the tip of your heads. Chest to chest.

He can feel your heartbeat thumping loudly. His knot is definitely thicker and bigger than yunhos. It's hard to even move because of it. A heavy and thick weight in the pit of your stomach that presses towards your clit when you wiggle.

You whimper from the sensitivity. Seonghwa Hushes you softly. “I know, it's a tight fit” he groans with you, pulling back to glance down. You're not bleeding, which is a good thing, you shouldn't be. Seonghwa had prepped you enough. It's still a hard squeeze for you. He avoids the connection with his eyes.

It's not a good idea for him to pop another boner when he's still inside. Your arms fall around his chest, pulling him back closer. Face pressed against his left peck. Your eyes are squinted close, lips pouting. Seonghwa smooths the damp hair from your face, caging your body into him with his other hand.

“You okay?” he asks, leaning down to see you. His eyebrows are furrowed, your eyes part, nodding tiredly. “‘m good. perfect.” you pout your lips out for a kiss, seonghwa indulges you. Cupping your cheek in his palm and wrapping his top lip into yours. You sigh into the kiss. Seonghwa fucks hard and fast, your hips ache so sweetly. Although you tried to move as much as you could, you let seonghwa use you like you did him. And you're happy he did, cause you'd be aching again. His knot isn't as tight anymore, a slow deflate that makes you miss it.

As it goes, you lean yourself into seonghwa. Appreciation lingers off your lips when you kiss up into him, and your other arm curls around to land behind his neck, playing with the hair there. His hands rub up and down your arms. Comforting you without words. His bottom lip sucking into yours.

Sweet and strong, hints of coffee on his tongue. His eyes part open when he pulls back, kissing the corner of your mouth once more. His hands caress down, over your shoulders, spine, lower back, hips, then thighs. His fingers ply the fat at the top and work on massaging his thumbs into the inner part, soothing the twist and ache in them.

“I shoulda been more careful, I'm sorry angel” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You shake your head into his shoulder. Pulling back enough to kiss the mark you left. “Don't be sorry, I liked it.” you mumble, thoroughly blissed out. The tub sloshes when seonghwa begins to lean back, taking his knees out from under him. He keeps you close. Never breaking the knot in the middle that connects you two.

His hands are soft and comfortable, stroking along your spine and hips as his knot proceeds to shrink. He's already got a cloth between his fingers, rubbing away any spit from your neck and padding the coolest part over your warm forehead. His eyes look down at you with so much adoration you begin to feel shy.

You close your eyes to cut his stare off. The cloth flops down into the water when he lets it go. He thumbs your chin, propping it on his fingers, his thumb swiping along your bottom lip. You blink open your eyes, tiredly. You need a nap. Seonghwa can tell. “Do you want to go back to your room? We can lay around in the living room too. You don't have to, though.” he nods into his words. Caressing your chin with his thumb.

“All of them will be there.” he mumbles the rest, quietly over the running bath water. You nod your head, a smile coming to the surface. “yes, that sounds nice” you huff. A nice comfy couch full of your boys completing surrounding you? Sounds like heaven. “Okay angel, we'll go,” Seonghwa smiles, his eyes guiding to your lips. He lands a soft kiss there.

Seonghwas clothing fits like a glove. After he cleaned you up, and you both rinsed off once more, he took it upon himself to dress you in his comfiest clothing. You would know. You steal the same clothes often. His oversized fluffy white sweater is spacious enough you don't feel claustrophobic. His white loose pants have a silky texture, something you know will give you some freedom to move. Along with your matching bra and undie set, you don't know when he picked it out.

His cheeky grin is something you shake your head at. And lastly, a pair of socks. He must truly be trying to make you look like an angel, cause you're dressed in all white currently.

“Are you trying to make me look like your angel?” You ask, teasingly, leaning your head back against his shoulder, his hand threads through your scalp. Quick kisses placed along your chin, circling around and then your lips. He's dressed in all black, a contrast to you. Seonghwa knows his colors. He grins into his kisses.

“Maybe, or you look good in white” he doesn't give you a proper answer, his hands wrapping around your waist and pushing you forward. The door swings open thanks to you, it's a lot colder in the hallway than it is in the bathroom. Your hand falls over his on your waist, threading your fingers over his. A slight chill crawling down your spine when he pushes you two on.

As soon as the living room comes into view. You're scanning, the only person on the couch is Yeosang. He seems to notice you two, sitting up to lean against the couch, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Seonghwa unwraps his hands from your waist,

Equally confused that all of the guys are gone. You're bouncing on the ball of your feet. Making your way over to yeosang with a shy grin. “Hi” he says, eyes gleaming with fondness. He's reaching his hand out, subtly, fingers wiggling over the arm rest.

You crawl under his lean arms, fully burying yourself into his side and breathing his scent in. You're very comfortable until he turns away, taking his attention with him as he addresses seonghwa. The said male turns to look over his shoulder just as he's about to enter the kitchen.

“Hongjoong told me to have you call” his hand falls over your waist, tugging you gently into him some more. He's telling you he's still here with you, subtly. “What for?” Seonghwas surprised voice echoes from the kitchen.

“Don't know, he didn't say.” he shrugs, turning back to look at you. A small but gentle smile crawling over his lips. “Hey, i missed you” he says in a small way. Shyly pulling his lips into a grin. You lean up to nose his jaw as close as you can reach. “Miss you more” you smile. “Where did the guys go?” You ask, snuggling into his side. His hand comes up to thread through your hair. “Out, they'll be back sometime soon” he answers you, looking down at your quickly relaxing figure.

Hongjoongs got a lot going on lately. It's pressure, a lot like usual. Immediately after you had been taken away for your bath and he got the guys separate from each other. His phone was buzzing, blinking the screen off the kitchen counter. He stalked over and immediately hit the answer button. Someone on the other side who he wasn't expecting. The security he had felt moments ago had been washed away in an instant.

How could schedule conflicts intercept your heat sanctuary booking? It makes no sense to hongjoong as he sits and thinks about it, phone pressed closer to his ear. He's leaning over the counter, head down. He doesn't know what to do exactly, would you want him to find you a different heat sanctuary? Or would you prefer the apartment? Home. The specific one seonghwa had picked out was completely secure, double, triple checked and official. Luxurious too. Most celebrities with omega sex use that specific heat sanctuary. It's completely secure. No press whatsoever.

But this is complicated now. Hongjoong has got to figure something out. He's got, a bit, of a plan. Search for heat sanctuaries and make sure they're safe for you. He's got jongho, yunho, mingi- for some reason he didn't trust mingi- wooyoung and San. The same goes for those two. Yunho's driving. Hongjoongs in the passenger seat, jongho behind the driver, wooyoung behind hongjoong, San in the middle, and lastly, in the final row, mingi is placed in the back. He lost the bet on the way to the van.

They've already visited about five places. Jongsik has taken time out of his day to help them look, he's got two places down so far. It's not enough, and it's not easy hiding identities. Hongjoong has already gotten the most stressed out he can be. He really doesn't know why he's so stressed. Maybe the possibility of making his potential-future-current ma-girlfriend upset has him uneasy. He's got to provide like you asked.

The buzzing from the guys in the back seat has joong anxious, drowning out their words in the back of his mind. It pools and it settles, eating away at his thoughts. The highway is a blur of bright sun and reflections gleaming off cars. His phone, the saving grace, rings.

“Hello?” he says, It's answered quickly. Seonghwas voice calls his name on the other side. Relief relaxes his bones. “Hey, where did-” “is she nearby?” He's begging for an answer. Seonghwa shuffles on the other side. “no, she's on the couch with yeosang” perfect. “Look, her heat sanctuary reservation got canceled at the last minute. They- they misbooked her for two months in advance- I don't understand how it-”

“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa stops his rambling with a hard call of his name. “We can figure this out, just come back, all of you.” seonghwa is convincing, cause then, hongjoong let's out the sigh he has been holding for a while.

Somehow mingi must have picked up on the call. He's already watching the car turn around and head home. Where they'll have to talk about it with seonghwa, your primary caretaker for your heat, and figure something out. Mingi didn't understand the sudden panic coming from the captain. Yes, it's stressful. But wouldn't you prefer being at home anyways? It would do you good to just stay in the comfort of the apartment in his opinion.

Unbeknownst to him, jongho is thinking the same thing. They've been at this for at least a solid two hours. You must miss them by now. And he definitely misses you. He misses not sitting next to sans bulky shoulders. He's going down the list of things he'd prefer than being in a cramped van, and you're most of them. He'd prefer being with you on the couch, cuddling, being touchy, maybe napping. Something ridiculous like that, Jongho didn't think he'd associate himself with domesticity. But he doesn't mind if it's you. He welcomes it, if it's coming from you.

Yunho has been the observer this while, quiet, unnervingly quiet, actually. Even Wooyoung and San debated a second ago about it. Ever since he asked his first couple of questions, he's stuck to just letting everyone else do what they're doing. This ride feels pointless but it's indeed Important. He just wonders why hongjoong didn't pull seonghwa aside and explain the situation at the apartment. But then again, Yunho realizes your heat is supposed to hit today. So that must be why the captain is freaking out. Trying to help in any way he can. There's really no guarantee you're okay with being at home. Yunho would hope you preferred the apartment. But it was your idea to be at the heat sanctuary. So, it's gonna cause chaos when they find out it's been canceled.

It really isn't his place to voice that though, he's not your primary caretaker. Seonghwa is. And if he has to say something then- he will. He'll say it to seonghwa. Because currently, hongjoong is sweating bullets in the passenger seat. Yunho doesn't want to stress him out anymore. The drive back is silent, buzzing with unspoken energy. Wooyoung and San are even whispering, debating, loud enough for everyone to hear. You are on the tip of their tongues as they talk. No one says anything about it, they're voicing the same concerns everyone has had up until that moment. “Do you think she wants to be home for it?” Wooyoung asks and san huffs. “I don't know, I can't read her mind” he sighs into his words, pouting.

Yeosang has been great company, he's perfect actually. He holds you close and talks about the movie with you, a jurassic park movie. One of the older ones, after scouring all of the apps, he finally took the remote from you and put one on. Dragging you into him, you've got your head on his lap. As he strokes your hair, watching the movie with focused attention.

With one of the throw blankets hanging off the two of you. Your eyes have already closed once, but when he moved his thigh you twitched them back open. Sleepily watching the movie. Behind your head, he has been watching you most of the time. Watching your shoulders fall with every breath. You shift your feet to curl up further, tugging your head closer to him. Sighing every so often. Yawning as well. Yeosang knows you're tired.

He'd never admit it out loud but he tried to block out every event from the morning, he's got a keen sense of hearing. He had to excuse himself already to calm down. Yunho popped into their shared room last night, and for a second, yeosang debated with himself on asking if he could join you two for some after time. He didn't though. And as Yunho left without noticing he was awake, he fell into a thoughtless dream after.

But this is what he needs. You, so very close. Clueless to the mess the guys are trying to fix. Just relaxing into him. He doesn't know the last time you actually relaxed. You've been chaotically stressed for- well- forever. He might even say you have anxiety. The way you have melted into them at any affection for the past week makes his heart swell.

You deserve affection and praise. Yeosang likes this a lot. Just existing together. He hopes you could do this for the future, just relax with him. Not worry so much about things. You're not even the captain and yet, you're the most. doting of the group. practically the one who holds the weight of the group on your shoulders before events whenever you notice any one of them feeling crowded.

Maybe- he thinks for a second, as his fingers caress over your neck, along your collarbone. Maybe you've always had this second sex deep down.

Bodies shuffle through the front door, the jingle of keys echoing as they clatter against the key dish. Your head doesn't prop itself from yeosangs’s lap. You're most definitely asleep. His hand goes to cover your exposed ear at the loudness. Looking up from over the TV to the entrance. Just as san rounds the corner, yeosang is gesturing him to being quiet. His face lights up when he sees you, contrary to the confused look he had before. He takes the spot opposite yeosang, towards the end of your feet. His hand sliding up to pat your calf. “How long has she been asleep for?” he never breaks his eyes from your face as he asks.

Yeosang does the same. “A bit” he nods to confirm. The couch begins to get crowded, Yunho pops up against the space behind the couch, reaching over to pull the blanket further up your shoulders silently. Jonghos next, standing next to yunho. His arms lean over the back of the couch so he can watch Yunho pull the blanket up. And then there's mingi. Who is loudly stomping through the door with wooyoung.

Both arguing about well- probably nothing serious. Your once serene sleeping face scrunches as the discussion meets your ears. Loud shushes come from the guys just as yeosang grimaces. Jongho leans away to scold Mingi. As san does the same. Getting up from his spot on the couch gently so as to not wake you. Hush whispers and apologies filling the living room over the volume of the TV.

Hongjoong is at seonghwa's door as soon as he sees he isn't in the living room. You're fast asleep and he did watch your face for a second before he left to talk to the dark haired guy. Seonghwa lets him in. As soon as he steps through the door hongjoong is explaining his point of view. Where they were. What they were doing.

“It's okay, I had a backup, they take last minute reservations.” Seonghwa reassures him. Reaching for the stack of papers on his bed. “We talked about it that day, remember?” It's a bit of a blur but. Yes, Joong remembers when they sat around your door that day. A phone call that lasted fifty minutes. He takes a seat on seonghwas bed with him. Confirming with a “Yeah, I do”

Seonghwa slips a piece of paper towards joong. Tapping on one of the lines. It's in seonghwas writing. Notes from that day. Contacts for the heat sanctuary, a line of three. Backups, he assumes. “I haven’t placed the reservation yet.” seonghwa, says. Biting on his bottom lip gently. Joong fiddles with the papers between his fingers.“I was thinking we could ask if she would want to stay here for her heat” hongjoong says.

Seonghwas eyes shoot open in surprise. He thinks for a second, nodding his head after. His eyes come up to make contact with hongjoongs.

“it doesn't hurt to ask”

Mingi stands completely rigid at the end of the hallway, the majority of the guys are the same. Standing back against the wall as they watch you work at tugging the blankets and pillows across the living room. It's a strange sight, you on your knees, tossing left and right. Your forehead creases with the amount of focus you're putting into it. He left for two seconds to find his phone and you're already awake.

“Is she doing what I think she's doing?” He asks first. Just as you're sitting on your knees, looking around at the circle of blankets uncomfortably. Yunho, somehow, is the first to say something when he notices your expressions. “She needs more blankets. Get blankets! Pillows! Clothes, whatever- go” he pushes bodies into the hallway, most of them bump into mingi and get to spreading out.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong are still in hwas's shared room when suddenly the burst of san and mingi interrupt their discussion. The clatter of people in the hallway has them concerned, doors swinging open and bouncing off the wall, stomping of feet, what the hell is going on out there? San is tossing his blankets over his shoulder, pillows as well. Mingi, well- Mingi is grabbing anything he can fit in his arms.

There's the sudden sensation of knowing exactly what's going on. Cause as they watch for seconds as their members frantically pull their own scent covered blankets and sheets. Seonghwa and joong shoot up to do the same. Hongjoong feet skid to a stop in the hallway. You're in clear view. Kneading and pawing at the blankets. A frustrated pout over your lips. It's a cute sight until he completely bumps into jongho and wooyoung.

Clothing spiraling out of their hands and mixing along the floor. Jongho isn't cursing out hongjoong, just in general when he bends down to pick up what he can. Dumping it just outside the sacred ring of your makeshift nest, like an offering. Wooyoung on the other hand, is whining about how his clothes and jonghos clothes are now mixed up. He hates that. As well as coming in second when he completely drops his clothes closest to the line that's your nest.

Jongho childishly sticks his tongue out at wooyoung. Wooyoung does the same. Pushing the younger members shoulder.

You reach out of the circle. Debating on whose clothing to grab first, your hand hovers. But it then pulls back to pry on your bottom lip. Thinking. Your eyebrows scrunch. You're very cute at this moment, jongho and wooyoung both think so. Wooyoung is a bundle of impatience while jongho’ hands twitch every so often together. When you reach out again, you grab both of their ankles.

Surely, they weren't expecting that. Quite literally did you pick both, you're now pulling them into the circle with tough yanks. They both don't waste a second, entering the sacred area that is your nest. They've never been let into a nest, so they really don't know what to do, standing awkwardly in a mix of their own scents. “Off” you point to their shirts.

Perhaps the freshness of their scents is why you want their shirts. You don't have to ask twice. Wooyoung almost sloppily pulls off his full top over his head, a graphic hoodie. Whilst jongho, completely pulls his shirt off with minor hesitation and hands it to you, you smile. Shoving your face into it. Wooyoung, finally able to, gets his hoodie and shirt off in one go.

He hands it to you as soon as you look up, face beaming up at him so brightly, he swears his heart skips a beat. You go to shove the shirts and hoodie into the outer layer of the nest, adding to the wall. You stop abruptly, looking back up at the two men who stare in wonder. The dropping of a zipper sliding against the wood floor has them jumping. “Why are you in the circle!.. where are your shirts-” San whines pointing fingers accusingly at the two men, a pile of his and mingis clothing and blankets stack like a mountain on the floor. Mingi is pouting aswell, bending down to look at you.

“Can I help?” He asks urgently, nodding his head, hand reaching out towards the edge of the nest. You take a second, staring, mingi is sweating. He wants to help, wants you to say yes, he can be good, can keep his hands to himself, he can provide like a good alpha. “Will you help me?” you bite your bottom lip. You reach for his hand, pulling him in. Mingi gets to work, lining up the edges with clothes he brought. “No fair! I want to help!” Wooyoung whined, dropping down to his knees in front of you. “Mega, I can help right?” “Me too!” jongho interjects, dropping down on his knees as well. Wooyoung shoots him daggers over his shoulder.

You smile, and hand them the clothing you've grabbed. San is busy pouting, arms crossed over his chest. He's got an ego at the moment and he doesn't feel like begging, too busy watching the other guys smooth out clothing. Your soft hands reach to pet over his crossed arms, unfurling them and pulling him inside the circle with the gentleness san is melting at. The others are too busy building the edges to notice he was pouting seconds before.

Lost in their own corners. You pull him down and tug him to the free space on the nest. It's big enough for everyone to have their own corners. Enough to have the space. “The furniture is in the way” you pout, grabbing his hands in yours. “Will you move it please?”

Wow, the way sans moves so quickly. You would have said he turned into the flash. His hands are pushing the extremely large center table. Yunho has to stop him with a hand on the other end, tossing his clothes to the side. San perks up, hands on his hips as he stands tall opposite of the other alpha. “She asked me, not you,” he brags, it doesn't cause any harm. Yunho laughs.

“I'm sure she doesn't mind, right ‘mega?” You perk at his call, looking over your shoulder from next to mingi. “don't fight” you huff, pouting. They shake their heads. “We'll play nice” San waves his hand, trying to push your worries away. He's actually thankful that Yunho showed, he might have thrown his back out if he didn't. Yunho helps san as the center table is pushed as far to the wall as it could go, as well as the couch, pushed towards the window to make room. As soon as they're done they're joining you in the nest, bumping shoulders to open the area.

Yeosang, seonghwa, and hongjoong come last. Meticulously chosen clothing and blankets in hand. “I'm glad I vacuumed '' seonghwa grimaces, the floor isn't the best place. In his opinion, you all should just move just because he doesn't deem it good enough for you. That really is the alpha in him talking. Hongjoong moves on, doesn't even acknowledge it. He places his clothes down as he squats, calling your name for your attention. He reaches his hand out.

“Joongie'' you smile, fingers slipping into his own. Your pupils are blown, must be in omega mindspace cause as soon as you grab him you're digging your face into his neck, he giggles at the sensation. You pull back and peck his lips. Rubbing your nose against his. “Come!” You beckon seonghwa and yeosang as well, making a grabbing motion.

You've got a giant circle going, it spans almost the entire living room. The sheets are the first layer in the center. Followed up by piles of clothing on the edges, and lastly blankets folded for comfort. no one questions how everyone has removed their shirts. You've got all of their missing clothing in your grasp, draped across you as you work your fingers at pulling a blanket over the tilted sideways couch, it's like a little cave, big enough for two just in case you want to hide out in there.

You're making excited noises by the end of it. Like you just decorated and finished your most important project. Smile so big, that everyone is copying you. Watching you with fondness. You've told each of them at a time that their spots are perfect. They love the praise.

“You did amazing omega, It looks perfect” yunho scoots on over, pulling himself around your back, hands wrapping around your waist. He can't help it. You're just so giggly and cute at the moment. So squishy. He loves it. He kisses the junction of your shoulder and neck. You lean back into him, curling your hand around his hair. Preening at the affection.

Hongjoongs head falls on your lap, laying between your thighs. “You put a lot of work into it. Didn't you?” he praises, clapping his hand over your face gently. Pulling you down into him. A type of upside down spider kiss ensues, innocent and sweet. And maybe the other guys are staring, it's hard not too. You're beautiful. You're breathtaking.

You're relaxed. It's rare to see so. The only time you've looked relaxed in a month is when you're borderline sleepy or banged out. Which, only one of those things has become common recently. Sex really is a good stress reliever. Or maybe it's being close to them. Letting yourself feel comfortable with the affections of your group members.

You haven't left the nest since it was made, seonghwa has to lure you to the corner so you don't get any snacks or crumbs on the pile. Each guy has come and gone in it, most recently San who pulled you onto his chest so he can nap, safe to say it was the best nap in his life. Jongho is asleep across from you in the little couch cave. Yeosang took sans spot next, painting your nails with scentless polish, just talking with you.

He's got a soft orange to match his own black nails. Halloween-esk themes. You watch his face as he does so, focusing hard. The background chatter of the guys makes you buzz with comfort. Wooyoung has a hand on your thigh as he watches his phone. Scrolling mindlessly.

“Yeo” you call softly, the top of the nail polish being placed on the bottle as he looks up through his eyelashes. He twists it tight, tapping and shaking it in his hand. He hums to answer you, you smile gently. His hand has a soft hold on your own, showcasing the tips of your fingernails to him. “Can we.. Can I..” You mumble on, a bit flustered. Yeosang nods gently, encouraging you on. You look down at his lips. Squishy and plush from him biting on them while he focused. Your hand reaches up, the one he holds. He tugs it back between you before you can place it on his face.

He's leaning down before you can ask, softly applying his lips to yours. Sighing into you. He's been waiting for this. So long. His own hand curls around your arm. Keeping you grounded in front of him as he leans in. Guiding your kiss with his own slow paced one, lips moving in tandem. He's soft and gentle, letting you relax into him. He pushes you back more with his own movements, but his hand holds you close.

He pulls away, eyeing your reaction. Just a small smile afterwards, the tiniest of grins. He's shaking the polish again, gripping your right hand so he can paint that side. Your face feels hot, flush. You'll never get used to kissing, possibly, ever. Not when they're so romantic about it.

“What about me, huh?” Wooyoung speaks up, his fingers pulling at the bottom of your pants. You turn to look at him, almost forgetting he was there. He sits up on his arm expectantly, tilting his head, a smirky pout on his lips. You huff. Leaning forward. He happily closes the distance. Taking your face in his larger palm.

Wooyoung kiss is much faster than yeosangs. He's got you parting for him before you can react, swallowing your sighs in his greedy mouth. Even though you're the one leaning down to kiss him, he's got you doing what he wants. Nibbling on your bottom lip and sucking air every time he pulls back. He's messy, sloppy, licking up the saliva he pulled from you. One more sloppy kiss on your glossy lips. Before he pulls his mouth away and smirks. His finger swipes along your lip. Glancing between it and you.

What do you do with yourself now?

“Hot” Wooyoung smiles at your reaction. Bingo. He's got a massive ego. You're dazed, eyebrows shot up and licking the gloss from your lips. He pats your thigh, turning away to go back on his phone. Satisfied. Yeosang huffs under his breath, a soft laugh. Before he's pulling your hand back between his and guiding the tip of the polish down your fingernail again. It takes you a second to recoup. Hot and bothered. The contrast between the two of them shows.

Mingi decides it's his turn to step into the nest, carefully walking over the wall of clothes with his massive body. He takes his seat behind you, watching his lanky arms, his head falling over your shoulder. “Seonghwa wants to know how you're feeling,” Mingi asks, a bit flushed when he looks down at your hands. ‘How you're feeling’ really means ‘do you need dick now or later?’ And, maybe that urgent feeling is crawling back up. Just resting in the pit of your gut and bubbling. “Mm.. I'm okay for now” you shift, turning your head at him. A few seconds ago, you would have said differently. “You sure?” He looks up through his lashes as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. Certainly smelling your scent and how it's more prominent.

“For now” you repeat. Smiling shyly. You kiss his temple, as far as you can reach. He leans his head up to nudge your nose with his, capturing your lips easily. He's leaning down into you, taking your breath away. It's a simple kiss, a soft dance. He pulls away. He can't indulge right now. But he wants to. He kisses your neck once, standing up to take his leave and report back to seonghwa and hongjoong.

A lot has just happened, you're sure this confirms everything so far. You mean- everything you hope.

“i.. are we dating now?” wooyoung's phone audibly stops. Yeosangs finger stops the brush. You gulp, don't even look up from the brush on the edge of your fingertip. It's not a second later that wooyoung laughs. “we're practically married,” he huffs, shuffling to lay his head on your thigh. A contrasting smile to your shocked face. “you can't get rid of us now” yeosang’s grin can be heard through his words, continuing to work the brush, gathering the glooped polish.

And maybe wooyoung does want to marry, there's nothing wrong with it. He didn't see himself getting married anytime soon. Mating either. He'd do both of those things with you in a heartbeat. He followed rumors of you as a trainee. Even leaving hybe to join the same entertainment as you. He was determined to meet you. Because of it, he got yeosang to become a secret fan of you as well. Maybe, wooyoung is a bit of a creep, but he really, really liked you, even before debut.

Yeosang knows this, how his best friend was almost completely infatuated with you. A giant crush that made yeosang join him. They're probably your first fanboys. No, they're definitely your first fanboys.

Mingis walk to the kitchen is a giddy one. He feels the taste of you on the tip of his tongue. Buzzing him with electricity. He's a starved man, dying for your affection. Any type of crumb gets him excited. Like he's about to perform. He takes a deep breath before he enters the kitchen. Glancing at Hongjoong sit at the counter, laptop propped up on his lap. San is helping Seonghwa cook. Yunho as well. All of them are doing their own thing.

It's the domesticity that gets to him. He really doesn't see his life any other way. This is his pack. Forever. Joongs eyes catch mingis, popping half a strawberry in his mouth. “What's with that look?” Joong asks. But he knows. Mingi knows he knows. Cause that subtle look on his smirking features is a dead giveaway. “Nothing,” Mingi mumbles, scratching the back of his head, turning an eye so as to avoid his question.

“How is she?” Seonghwa asks from over his shoulder. “she said she's okay for now” he enhances the end. There's a huff of laughter coming from joongs end. “For now” he repeats, turning in his chair. Everyone in the kitchen glances at him, different swirls of emotions on each of their faces. “What does that mean?” San asks. Cluelessly.

Yunho laughs. Airy and deep. Preparing the side dishes for dinner.

“Means she's gonna need taken care of soon”

Semi-proofread c': thank you all!

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg @mommahwa1117 @ddaeing @chngbnwf @mentoslol @pyeonghongrie-main @simeonswhore (thank u all! If the tag isn't working or i forgot to add u, please let me know ♥︎)

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silkscream · 2 months

Text

CHAPTER 9: GOD IS A CIRCLE

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

Your angels do not react. They only look at you with concern, shielding you from the blazing sun with their wings. They stare as you laugh, doubling over, falling backwards into the green grass. You only remember that you’re alive when they trace the contours of your body with their fingertips.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, high sex, threesome, oral sex, fingering, graphic depictions of violence and blood, recreational drug usage, biblical imagery, angst

ੈ✩ wc: 5.5k

ੈ✩ a/n: i was barely conscious when i wrote this. sorry bout it

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

August, 2009

Bliss is never eternal. If it was, you’d think the world would stop turning with everyone busy with their greatest indulgences. It’s not like you were much of a hedonist anyway, not even with Satoru’s influence.

You feel intoxicated with him and Suguru, but it’s not enough to keep you from reality. Yaga-sensei proves this the moment the boys are ordained the task of protecting the star plasma vessel—a fourteen-year-old girl with more spirit than you ever had at that age. You admire her spunk, her unwillingness to take shit from either of the boys. It entertains you endlessly.

“How do you deal with them?” she mutters to you. You learn that her name is Riko Amanai. She loves the ocean and has a sweet tooth like Satoru. Her favorite flavor is anything blue.

“I keep them in check.”

“Are you my bodyguard too?”

“Not really,” you laugh. “But I’ll be around.”

Riko likes you. She clings to you more than you anticipate, considering this isn’t your mission, but you understand. She’s vulnerable despite her confidence in her fate as Tengen’s vessel. Talks a big game with blue eyes shining bright, similar to Satoru.

She pouts at your absence. You think nothing of it, knowing that she’s in good hands between the boys and that caretaker of hers. The bounty on the girl’s head is daunting, but the boys are the strongest, and you watch them evade the enemies easily.

It’s when they end up in Okinawa that something in your chest feels a bit empty. A bad omen, anxiety pooling in your gut.

Satoru texts you pictures from the beach—sea creatures from the ocean and the aquarium, selfies with Suguru that are often blurry. He texts you how much he misses you, how much he craves the parts of you that you think may be too intimate to even talk about out loud, let alone through text. Suguru sends you pictures of Riko and Satoru on the beach with the creatures they pick up from the ocean, of sunsets he knows you would enjoy.

You ache for their return.

satoru: gonna stay for another day jsyk

you: having fun?

satoru: yeaaaa

satoru: tired as fuck though

satoru: but riko likes the beach. thought we could give her one more day

you: you’re sweet

satoru: not as sweet as uuuuuuuuu

satoru: she says hi btw

satoru: shes mad ur not here

you: she likes me more than you

satoru: >:(

you: i’ll see you soon. get some sleep please

satoru: anything for u baby

Something has gone terribly wrong.

You have no reason to be worried—Satoru is more than capable of handling that assassin, no matter how swift his movements may be. It was whiplash to see a sword go through him, and it was whiplash to see Satoru react like it was a paper cut.

Now, in the Tombs of the Star, you feel a chill run up your spine as you escort Kuroi out. She’s still emotional, wiping tears after her goodbye to Amanai. Trepidation strikes you the same way it did in that forest all those months ago. The air has grown cold, but you can’t sense any other cursed energy but your own.

“Kuroi,” you breathe.

“Yes?” She sniffles, wiping her tears quickly.

“Go on without me,” you say cautiously. “I think I better guard the Tomb just in case. For Geto.”

“Alright. Thank you for being there for them.” Kuroi smiles at you with a warmth you aren’t sure that you deserve.

“I wasn’t the one protecting her.”

“I know, but she admired you a lot. We missed you in Okinawa.”

You pull her into a hug, one that you wish you’d given Riko moments prior. It’s a parting gift.

When she departs, you’re left alone in a dark hallway. You expect a spirit to jump out — something monstrous, an amalgamation of your nightmares. But this is a sacred place, you suppose. One meant for sacrifices and blessings. You’ve never really believed in blessings. The world is built on too many curses for that.

Something in the air made you want to choke, swallow back bile. Nothing like your old anxiety spells. It’s something else, you’re sure of it. And yet, it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The rustle of fabric.

He couldn’t go undetected, not completely. Not when your intuition was on overdrive, making you sick with it. Your senses acute.

“Haven’t seen you before.”

His voice is raspy, the sound of skinned palms on pavement. Deep the way Japanese whiskey burns down and sits in your stomach a little too heavy. There’s a split on the corner of his mouth as if he’d been nicked by a thorn. He smiles at you with lazy, bovine eyes and a snake-like smirk.

This man is not a figment of your imagination — he’s real as can be as he towers over yet, and there’s not a lick of cursed energy you can feel, even when you’re this close to him. A human.

You think about Satoru and the sword that went through his chest. You look at the sword that the stranger in front of you wields. Within a second, you rush to touch him, but your technique doesn’t activate as soon as you want it, too. He slashes you across the stomach, crimson permeating the torn fabric of your uniform.

“Weak little girl,” he chides. “You’re too pretty to kill, though.”

You gag, nearly vomiting on the ground.

“You their girlfriend or what? Would’ve thought they were fucking each other, to be honest.”

You shake your head weakly, your vision blurring already. You hear a bark of a laugh. Not even your bared teeth can be taken seriously, not when you’re bleeding out on the ground. He tuts as if he’s scolding you.

“He’ll kill you,” you hiss. The man laughs again. You must be referring to one of your boys. He grins wider when he realizes.

“Which one? The one with the bangs?” he scoffs. “Because I already killed the Gojo brat, sweetheart.”

You feel your heart drop, sinking like an anchor as the feeling drags your body down with it. You look at him with wide eyes, and the sadistic stare you get back tells you he wants to humiliate you. It would hurt less if he just killed you.

Satoru would never die by the hand of a non-sorcerer. Not a fucking chance. But the notion doesn’t stop the itch behind your nose, your eyes threatening tears. The man crouches, his face looking down at you in mock sympathy, and places a rough palm to your face, swipes your quivering bottom lip. You taste blood.

You clutch his wrist immediately and he raises his hand.

Something metal whips the side of your face, something heavy. Your sight of vision narrows into black.

When you wake, you aren’t sure if you’ve arrived in a nightmare or had just left one.

For one, Satoru is saturated in blood. The scratches on his face are brutal. He looks half feral, half shell-shocked. It’s nothing you’ve seen before.

Despondency paints Suguru’s face into a shadow of himself. There’s something off about their cursed energy.

You don’t want to ask them how the rest of the mission went — you can already tell what the answer might be. If everything went according to plan, there wouldn’t be a blank stare in each of their eyes. If everything was fine, they would return to you like themselves — animated and flirty and teasing. If everything was the way it was meant to be, maybe you wouldn’t have the slight scar of a side wound aching at the side of your gut.

Instead, they’re all business. It’s like they look through you when they speak to you.

“Is Riko…” you trail off.

“She’s dead,” they say.

They deliver the news to you, expressionless. Mirroring each other.

There’s a blankness in Satoru’s eyes. Cold. No one exactly knows how to deal with being killed only to bring yourself back again. The thought of his mangled body surrounded by flyheads makes your stomach churn.

He had always been god-like, prodigal. After being reborn, he really was a God. Untouchable. You’d think him to be cockier or more cruel, but on the surface, he’s devoid of anything, really. He’s stony-eyed, instead, a little empty behind the face. There’s a spark of something when he sees the large bruise on your cheekbone and the ghost of a slash on your rib.

He won’t say much about the man who killed him. Only that he had no cursed energy and a son. You remember a scar bending with the curve of a mouth and sharp green eyes.

It’s quiet at Jujutsu Tech afterward. Yaga continues classes like he always does, and all of you do your best. There are fewer missions that are being demanded of you. You think it’s because of the failed mission. Despite this, Satoru takes on whatever he can, even volunteering for the tougher ones just so he can let off some steam. Suguru often tags along with him, leaving you alone to sulk.

You don’t think you have any reason to sulk. It’s not like you were killed, anyway.

You feel them both pulling away. You don’t bother to pry — they at least seem to be occupied with each other. They were best friends before you ever got close to either of them. You knew your place. You’d give them space, knowing the gravity of the trauma they’d experienced on the mission, and yet your heart ached all the same. It was a familiar hurt, the same you’d felt in high school about Satoru. It was only peculiar now because those feelings applied to both of them.

But then there are times when Satoru sneaks into your room like he always does. He likes to nip at your shoulder with teeth that feel sharper, meaner. Hand around your throat, the calluses squeezing flesh. He likes to pin you down to the mattress, likes to hear the squeak of the bedframe as he fucks into you mercilessly.

Suguru takes you, too, but not so desperately, not so obviously. He lures you in, instead. You realize that he’s different than Satoru in the way that he has the patience for games. It explains the teasing, the touching. He’ll have you wrapped around his finger just from talking to you, and within the hour, he’ll be fucking into your soaked cunt in the locker rooms after sparring.

You suppose this is the way they both let out their frustrations, how they cope with the trauma of losing Riko. They were tightlipped about her.

Both of them had changed in ways that were beyond your comprehension.

Satoru gets colder. Similar to the way he was in high school, when he barely acknowledged you. He doesn’t like to look at you for very long, as if the mere fact of his gaze on you would hurt him, hurt you. It was stupid. He didn’t care about your fragility before, so what point was there to care about it now?

Suguru is mostly the same, just quieter. Hell, he’d always been quiet, other than the times he’d fuck you or when you’d be alone with him. His sarcastic streak was weaker. He touched you less.

You can’t stand any of it.

Satoru isn’t meant to be someone so vulnerable. It’s out of character for him.

You soothe his nightmares when he wakes you up in the middle of the night clutching your waist with nails digging into the skin underneath your shirt. He’s always shaking, always mumbling something nonsensical.

Selfishly, you find that it feels nice to be needed. To be his only form of salvation during these times.

In his waking moments, Satoru is himself again. Belligerently so, with his recklessness. It’s up to you and Suguru to tame him, often. Satoru is almost a different version of himself – familiar and still annoying — but he is much more adamant about his power, nowadays. A God complex in the making.

Satoru gets greedier. He likes to wake you up with his nose nudging your clit, tongue already making a mess of your hole. No amount of pushing his head away with your hand would make him stop, though you blame yourself for indulging.

He likes to tease you for the semblance of control. You suspect that beyond playing with you, he finds solace in Suguru, instead. They aren’t particularly shy about it—sometimes you walk into Satoru’s dorm and find them entangled with one another, clothes off and warm to the touch. They always welcome you into their arms, forcing you in between them.

You feel like you’re at an arm’s length from them at all times despite this.

November, 2009

You settle on a routine. It’s less than pleasant, but you’re used to it. Convincing yourself that it’s normal, at least.

Yaga puts you on more solo missions — you’ve improved your technique. The precision of it is tough, always a wildcard given the unpredictability of destruction beneath your fingertips. Regardless, it’s gotten better. It doesn’t traumatize you so much to be a vehicle of decay anymore. You’re numb to it.

It’s odd — you’re carrying the burden of something you didn’t experience. Satoru finds that you are a mirror for Suguru, the same temperament and all. Always leaving the party to smoke cigarettes together. It doesn’t make him pissy necessarily, but it makes him pout. Clingy to the both of you.

“Stop being antisocial,” he whines.

You and Suguru look up at him in question. He had followed you out of the party when you saw Satoru’s hand on the waist of a girl you didn’t recognize. It was nothing, probably, but it wasn’t something you had ever had to deal with. It wasn’t like he could pry anything out of you, anyway.

“We’re not,” you defend, waving a cigarette around. “It’s too hot in there.”

It was true, to be fair. You were too warm in there and the outside air was nice. That, and you figured that Suguru would follow you, and he always wanted to steal you away for kisses.

Satoru had technically intruded on that, interrupting the moment Suguru had pulled away from your mouth. He eyes you wearing Suguru’s jacket and softens.

“You wanna go home, don’t you?” he asks.

“I can stay if you want,” you shrug.

He sighs. “Can you guys at least hang out with me?”

“Needy,” Suguru teases, stomping the butt of his cigarette on the ground and ushering you in between the sliding glass doors, hand on the small of your back. He nips at Satoru’s neck on the way in.

As if in apology, you don’t leave Satoru’s lap for the rest of the night. You don’t really get to. He even follows you to the bathroom and considers taking you over the counter for the hell of it.

It’s been difficult to touch you, lately.

In late August, the Zen’in outcast had killed him. Satoru had never thought of death as an option that was even possible. It’s why his mind was frenzied in his last moments, panicked as the two of them were surrounded by fly heads. He had not anticipated death, hadn’t anticipated the impact of it, how Suguru would have to return his corpse to Jujutsu Tech. How you would be shedding overflowing tears.

He’d like to think that your face or Suguru’s was in his mind when he took his last breath, but truthfully, he doesn’t remember. His mind was blank.

And when he had risen from the dead and shot a lethal hole through Toji Fushiguro, his mind was blank then, as well. The euphoria had faded. He had fulfilled the ordained role of a boygod, his hands were bloody, and he killed a man who would leave behind a son. He thought of his supposed immortality, his transcendence beyond something human, and then he thought of you.

You were the most human thing about him.

Your warmth, the flush in your cheeks. The way he had taken you back when you were in school, none the wiser about the world of curses. Sometimes he thinks you are one.

It wasn’t meant to go this far, but he had taken the leap and continued to wade in the pool of it all. He does not think of love when he thinks of his family, but he thinks of love when he sees you and Suguru. Something beating, something alive.

It was why he was constantly tipping the line between overflowing completely and being numb — Satoru was no stranger to his indulgences. You, on the other hand, were something else entirely. Fragile underneath his hands. Sometimes, he didn’t even think it was worth it to keep you in the bear trap he had set for you.

And then Suguru would kiss away your tears when Satoru was too rough, too cold, and he would succumb to his desires again. Instead of being something akin to a god, he often dreamt about being ordinary.

Maybe if his birth didn’t throw the planet off its kilter, he could truly be good to you instead of wanting to cut you open and live inside of you. Satoru would always be safe in your skin, but he had started to doubt that you would ever be safe in his.

You were the first to know him, he thinks. You had met him as a child and didn’t assume his divinity, rather, you were oblivious to it. Even as a little servant, you refused to kiss his feet. It relieved him. Satoru knew you always meant more to him than a toy, but in his emerging adulthood, he had taken you as a form of escapism and couldn’t cut you off. You had fastened yourself to him like an extra limb unknowingly.

“I don’t get how you can be so overbearing to her yet so distant at the same time,” Suguru remarks.

Satoru makes a face, scrunching his nose.

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re referring to,” Satoru says blankly.

“The teasing goes too far. And you get insensitive because you’re a prick, and then you barely text her back when you’re on missions.”

Satoru scoffs, fiddling with the pencil he twirls in his hands. Suguru was right, he supposed. He noticed you were a little hollow, all blank stares. Sleeping in while Satoru did not sleep at all.

“They’ve gotten harder lately. And it’s not like I’m–”

“Not what?” Suguru snorts. “Her boyfriend?”

Satoru says nothing to this. Instead, he tackles Suguru onto his bed, slides his palms underneath his shirt and up the smooth planes of his abdomen. He sighs, setting his head on Suguru’s chest.

“It’s not like she cares.”

“She does. She loves you.”

Satoru’s face reddens as if what Suguru says isn’t fact. On Satoru’s end, however – his feelings for you were an understatement. Calling it love seemed fruitless. He’d like to be fused with you, never letting you go. Stuck in the bliss of your skin kissing his in the early mornings forever.

“Think something got knocked loose when I died,” Satoru mumbles, his eyes blank.

Suguru looks at him in question, not following.

“I’ll make it up to her.”

January, 2010

“What are you getting Suguru for his birthday?”

“I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs, a blue raspberry lollipop filling up the hollow of his cheek. Tongue matching the blinding saturation of his eyes. “A blowjob?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Don’t be homophobic! You like watching.”

“I’m serious,” you roll your eyes.

“We’ll take him out,” he grins, shoving his hands in his pockets. Always stupidly attractive, his beauty borderline mythological.

You knew he was lying, knew that he would be away on that Wednesday, that his calendar was always filled a month prior with what the higher-ups needed from him. You thought it was unfair, given that he was still only a second year, though you still knew better. The glaring truth of his strength ever since the failed Star Plasma Vessel mission was conspicuous, a reminder that started to become egregious to you.

Satoru takes some of your takoyaki in unspoken amusement with you rolling your eyes, passing the tray towards him. He pouts despite the gesture, reaching over to poke you in the cheek.

“That can’t taste good with all the sugar in your mouth.”

“You’d be surprised.”

You fixate on the television. Satoru had gotten lucky recently, convincing Yaga to convert one of the common rooms with the connected bathroom into a dorm for himself. He had the Gojo money to “donate”, and he’d been on his best behavior in the past few months, which was rare. It wasn’t like Yaga really gave a fuck about their boarding situation as long as the missions went smoothly.

The room was big enough to fulfill that dream of pushing two beds together. A TV set and dingy couch to match. He needed the TV to fall asleep at night, especially if you weren’t there to stroke his hair. It was the only light source beyond a Hello Kitty lava lamp that Suguru had gotten him as a joke gift.

Satoru had recently started an obsession with Godzilla for some reason, forcing you to watch one every few days before bedtime. You were going in order since Christmas – tonight was the one versus Hedorah.

“You never look at me anymore,” he whines.

“What are you talking about?”

You’d rather say something biting, like how it was the other way around. How he’s been shoving your face into the mattress. How you’d come back to your dorm and see Satoru in between Suguru’s legs without much acknowledgment to you until he’d finish.

“You look at me like I’m a mosquito bite or something. What’s wrong? You don’t think I’m pretty anymore?” he grins, settling his cheek into his palm.

“Not at all. You’re hideous,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. The remark earns you a light kick to your shin under the table.

“Wow. Rude. Personally, I think you’re God-sent.”

“I thought you wanted me to watch this movie,” you mutter, trying not to let him know how much his comment affected you. You always flushed when he said things like that still, and it would always be out of the blue.

“You know I like talking during movies.”

“Right. It’s one of your worst qualities,” you sigh.

The pillows around you are discarded when he suddenly pins you down to the carpet, your face right next to an old ash stain from one of Shoko’s cigarettes. He grins as he parts your mouth with the pad of his thumb, and you’re as obedient as you always are. There’s a ribbon of saliva from his mouth stretching as he takes the lollipop from his tongue to yours.

It wasn’t difficult to get his dick hard, really. He’d known that ever since he’d seen you sprawled on the grass next to the track field when you were fourteen, the way your chest was heaving and your underwear was just slightly visible underneath your gym shorts when you parted your legs.

Satoru thinks you’d laugh in his face if he’d told you about all the times he thought about you when you were teenagers despite the fact that he didn’t speak to you at all. He knows that he would deserve it.

It’s funny. He used to resent you then. He knew he could have you if he’d simply tried a bit harder, if he didn’t so abruptly toss you aside in middle school. Even so, you were everywhere for him—in his dreams, in his house against your will like a chained ghost. Back then, he hated that he loved you, hated that you were weak, hated that, at least besides Suguru, nobody knew him except you.

He wonders briefly if he was high on the taste of you or if the candy is laced with something— he wouldn’t be surprised, since Shoko and Suguru were enablers for the two of you even when you tried to be responsible. It didn’t matter anyway. Your body always made him this frenetic.

It’s when his fingers graze the heat of your cunt that Suguru barges in. He blinks at the two of you entangled on the floor and merely laughs.

“You guys just started?”

“Mmmf,” Satoru grunts. His hand’s wrapped around your neck, now, and your eyes are closed.

Suguru’s musk fills the room. White pine and sugary maple — he’d used Satoru’s deodorant before the mission. There’s still a blood splatter under his cheekbone the color of ripe plums. This was the usual weekend routine. Mindless fucking with a movie in the background. At least one of you would be too exhausted to muster up the energy to go into the city. It was easier to indulge inside, especially when the temperature kept dipping.

Your eyes flutter as Satoru bites your neck down to your collarbone. When you look toward the couch, you see Suguru with a plastic baggie of something you don’t recognize.

“What’s that?”

“Shrooms.”

“How the hell did you manage that?” Satoru quips, his hand digging into your hip.

“There are some freaks in Akihabara,” Suguru shrugs. He eats the mushrooms like they’re crumbs at the bottom of a chip bag. “Got this shit after my mission in a fucking vending machine outside a love hotel. Can you believe it?”

“What, did you get a room there or something?” Satoru snorts. “Whore.”

“Why would I, when I can home to this?” Suguru’s eyes are viper-like, serpentine as he smiles lazily. You’d eat from his palm if he asked you to. In sickness and health—it was stupid. You crawl to him and you do.

Satoru doesn’t take any. He knows full well that psychedelics fuck with his Infinity, that it would only make his insomnia worse. The last time he’d tried acid, he had nightmares for days, seeing green eyes of a hunter. Blood slashed from a blade to his neck. Flyheads swarming.

The drugs make you giddy. Another hour and the room spins in an orderly fashion, the ceiling dancing around in a kaleidoscopic pulse. Suguru had limited your dose, knew you’d freak the fuck out if your self started to disconnect. He’d been there enough times to despise it. Ego death was torture for the introspective kind.

He sucks a hickey into your neck while you’re mindless. It’s amusing how invested you are in this episode of Sailor Moon. Satoru lays his head on your thigh, playing with you lazily. You’re happy enough to take it, grinding against his hand as Suguru distracts you with a kiss. It’s tender and slow, not unusual for him, but with the two of them together, everything is usually frenzied.

He gets you in his lap, the sacrificial lamb you are. Always eager to walk into the predator’s gaping maw on your own accord because of his beautiful eyes. Suguru is no beast, but there’s something twisted about the way he plays with you sometimes.

He likes you to beg for it, but it’s not the taunting way that Satoru does. Suguru will inch his face close enough to yours to smell the artificial sweetness of your breath, then pull your hair when you lean in to kiss him. He’ll touch your thigh under the table, not unlike Satoru, but his fingers will dance around your core in a way that leaves you unable to speak to your fellow peers.

You wonder if they’ve learned their cruelty from each other. But this time, he’s sweet.

It’s the hallucinogen fogging his brain. It makes him like a teenager in love. Open-mouthed, pawing love handles. You’re wearing Satoru’s t-shirt, something monochromatic and stupidly expensive, and Suguru tears it off of you as his mouth waters.

Coughing, Satoru tilts his head, supports it with elbows on the carpet. His temperament is neutral, teasing even, but for some reason, looking at him makes you sober up to some degree of lucidity that’s sensitive to him. The part of you that wants to please him at all times.

You crawl to him and say his name. It’s child-like. The shrooms make your eyes wide, colors innocence onto your face from the bliss. It reminds him of when you were younger—bruised knees and twigs in your hair from tumbling in the forest with him. Something tugs at his chest.

“You tryin’ to seduce me?” Satoru jeers, tongue licking his teeth. His palm on your face is hot.

You smile and nod. His gaze lowers and he snaps the waistband of your sweats against your hip. Hand on your thigh again, taunting your synapses. You think he’ll take you with his usual ferocity, but he steals your breath with a kiss instead.

The kiss never ends. Maybe they switch in between, but you don’t notice. Your eyes are shut, tight enough to see phosphenes like a galaxy. Blue and purple bleeding into your irises. You feel them pulling you apart, cock filling you up, hands everywhere.

“Fuck,” someone gasps. Something like groveling, desperate hair pulling.

“Inside,” you beg. “Please.”

Satoru watches, mesmerized. The heat of your body, sweat pooling into the divot above your clavicle—it all makes his mouth water, but he stays still on the couch as Suguru pins you to the floor. It’s the most the Six Eyes has felt in months, for some reason, and he hadn’t even taken anything. He half-wishes he could get his hands on something other than you to inject into his veins—maybe then he could learn to be calm or fall asleep at regular times. Anything to stop the odd ache in his chest whenever he looked at you.

He’s never been a man of God. He was God himself. And then he sees you moan out, bliss-wrecked and flooded with light, burning like seraphim. He’d come back to life a thousand times just to see your face. It made him sick.

Satoru kisses you before you knock out on his bed, eyes half-open and dazed. You’re refusing to go to bed, citing euphoria for your desire to run a few laps. Meanwhile, Suguru is asleep on the couch, fucked out and satisfied.

You’re coaxed into sleep. It’s not hard once you start rambling, shut up only by the feeling of Satoru’s fingers running across your scalp. He lays awake like he often does, talking to the moon. He sighs as you nuzzle into him, your whole body curling towards him to ward off goosebumps. You’re nearly bare considering you didn’t bother to put on clothes after you and Suguru had finished.

Satoru pulls the blanket over you, sighing. He’d had the leftover beers in the mini-fridge just to feel a buzz, even the taste of German ales made his nose wrinkle. It still wasn’t enough to put his mind at ease. He stares at the stained carpet, then Suguru’s sleeping shadow, then your face. He shuts his eyes.

It’s been months, yet the memories still cage you. It’s like something wraps its hand around your throat in your subconscious. In each dream, you are aching for their return, and they come to you like newly-bloomed flowers.

It feels like you’ve been waiting for them for centuries, your body stuck in the grass with a bruise over your left eye that doesn’t stop aching. You don’t even know how much you’re bleeding until they return to you again, caressing your sides and pulling away at the sight of a wound.

Your angels are not dead. It’s enough relief for you to keep going, but they still look at you with furrowed brows. Blood spills from your mouth.

“I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.”

Despite the pain, the vision is familiar. You’re too distracted by their beauty, how their mere presence is arcadian in itself. You don’t need anything else. You could die here.

Here, between them and their celestial bodies, in the green, green grass. Spider lilies bloom around you like kisses in blessing as the golden evening swallows you up. There’s a sinking feeling—a literal one, of you descending into the ground in a way that feels like a loose feather falling.

Your angels reach for you until they grasp the whole of you and turn you inside out. They pull apart the mess of you, reshaping you, undoing tangles and knots and bending the stem of your being so you can be reborn in their image. They love you enough to do so.

And when you look back at them with love in your eyes, you flinch. They’re eclipsed by something terrible, too far away for you to reach. It’s bloody. It has a voice like skin scraping pavement, full-bodied whiskey.

You stretch your hand out only meet a sweaty palm. When you open your eyes, a pair of blue ones stare back at you.

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