In which reader finds herself stuck in an elevator with her colleagues.
Pairing: Hotch x Reid x Morgan x Fem!BAU!Reader
Genre: smut (18+)
Content warnings: fingering, oral (f and m receiving), face riding, p in v sex, overstimulation, masturbation, breast play
Word count: 5,4k
A/n: I'm ovulating, so you know what time it is 🤭 I'm really nervous to post this, so I hope you will enjoy!
“Oh, you guys are such babies!” You laugh as Spencer and Derek refuse to step into the elevator, explaining how they’ve been stuck in one before.
“It’s not funny, Y/N,” Spencer chimes in. “There are six elevator deaths per year. Not to mention ten thousand injuries that require hospitalization.”
You roll your eyes at his comment, just as Hotch walks toward the elevator. “See!” You exclaim. “Hotch is joining us, and he saved you last time. We’ll be fine.” You add cheerfully.
“You’re coming?” Hotch asks, holding the elevator door open. You nod, pulling Morgan and Reid with you by their arms.
You chuckle at their nervous reflections in the mirror as the elevator starts moving. A sudden creak causes Derek to snap his head towards you. “It made the same sound the last time!” You were just about to shut Derek up as the elevator shakes and the lights start flickering.
“Not again!” Spencer whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut like he’s about to fall to his death at any given moment.
Hotch inspects the tight space, his expression grim. “It seems like the electricity went out…”
“Actually, there are a lot of reasons why an elevator might stop,” Spencer interjects. “It could be worn-out suspension ropes, and it actually happens quite regularly that the motor overheats the safety sensors of the-“
“Let’s just solve this problem, shall we?” You cut him off, nudging Morgan out of the way to hit the red button on the panel.
“You think that’ll do something?” Morgan asks, brow lifted.
“It will alert someone that we’re stuck. We have to wait until somebody comes and gets us out of here.” Hotch adds.
“Well at least I’ll be missing my meeting with Strauss,” I sigh in relief.
“It was at twelve, right?” Spencer asks.
“Yeah,” you respond with a nod.
“Statistically the average wait time to be rescued from an elevator is less than an hour,” Spencer continues, checking his watch. “That means you could still make it in time.”
“Now that’s just what I wanted to hear,” you say sarcastically, earning a grin from Morgan.
“We can only hope we won’t be in here for that long,” Hotch mutters, his impatience visible as he leans uncomfortably against the elevator doors.
“Okay… so now what? Want to go over a case to pass the time?”
“No, no cases please,” Morgan groans. “We’ve had three in a row. I’m done.”
“Morgan is right. We’ve done enough cases in the past few days.” Hotch agrees.
You mutter an “alright” as you sit down with your back against the elevator wall, smoothing out the crinkles in your skirt. The others look at you with uncertainty. Eventually Reid decides to sit next to you, exchanging a soft smile. Morgan follows suit, sitting in front of you. Hotch remains standing. You leave him be and turn to Spencer.
“So Reid, I’m sure you’ve got enough interesting facts to pass the time.”
Spencer looks surprised by the request, not used to directly being asked to share his facts, but his eyes quickly brighten, eager to share. “Well, actually, there are a lot of interesting things to say about elevators. There are approximately 20 million elevators worldwide,” you chuckle at his obvious enthusiasm. “The first elevator was created in 236 B.C. by Archimedes, a Greek mathematician. He used a water wheel and tied animals together with rope to create a lift mechanism.” You hum in interest. “They used lifts in the Colosseum, right?”
“Yes! Exactly!” he responds excitedly. “The system was powered by eight men who would turn this massive wooden shaft connected to ropes. It could hold more than 600 pounds!”
“Oh come on,” Derek says, his hand falling to his knee. “You’re telling me you’re actually interested in the mechanics of ancient elevators?”.
Hotch glances at Morgan, silently agreeing with Derek’s skepticism.
“Derek Morgan…” you feign offense, placing a hand on your chest. “Don’t act like I’m not curious about knowledge. At least Spence’s got something interesting to say.”
Spencer blushes faintly, appreciating your defense.
“Hey, I know facts too,” Morgan says smugly. “How about there being 7000 languages in the world today.”
“The overall number is actually closer to 8000,” Spencer corrects him. “You only counted verbal communication.”
“You guys are going to have a facts competition now?” You ask, bewildered. “It’s way too hot in here. I need some light conversation.”
“I agree,” Hotch mutters. “It is getting a little warm.”
You glance up at the AC in the corner of the elevator, which is clearly not working. It probably shut down along with the power. There’s a brief silence before Reid speaks up again.
“I never thought I’d be trapped in an elevator with my colleagues,” he muses. “It’s a little cliché.”
“You know how, in movies, a group of people get stuck in an elevator and they have to learn to overcome their differences to escape?”
You shake your head in confusion, “I think I only know the dirty movies where they get stuck in an elevator,” you laugh.
Spencer blinks at you, clearly thrown off. Derek chuckles at the scene, and even Hotch manages a faint smile.
“I should’ve known you’ve only watched the dirty ones,” Derek teases.
“What about you, pretty boy? Ever seen a dirty movie?” He asks Spencer, grinning.
Reid looks flustered. “I grew up in Vegas… I’ve seen some things.”
“Ah, Vegas,” you say, sighing dreamily. “The place where you can’t drive for a minute without seeing a giant porn billboard.”
Morgan grins, leaning back with a satisfied sigh. “Sounds like my kind of place.”
You laugh and kick his leg playfully. Morgan winks at you, enjoying the lighthearted banter. You glance up at Hotch, who is still the only one standing.
“What about you, Hotch? What’s your favorite dirty movie?” You ask with a mischievous grin, but your expression quickly drops when you see his stern look.
“Watch it, Y/L/N.” Hotch warns.
“Come on, Hotch,” Derek says. “Let loose a little!”
“See it as the universe’s sign.” I press on.
“How is being stuck in here a sign of the universe?” Hotch asks, brows raised.
“Well, no way would you willingly take a break yourself. Now the universe got you stuck in here and is forcing you to relax,” you explain, with a playful gleam in your eyes.
To everyone’s surprise, he slowly lowers himself to the floor, sitting down next to you.
You exchange surprised looks with Derek and Spencer. All amazed at how you managed to get Hotch to sit down.
The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, scared to say something that will make Hotch change his mind. You’re glad he joined you, but it’s hard to ignore the rising temperature now that another person is sitting in close proximity to you.
“How long has it been?” you ask, fanning yourself with your blazer. “I’m starting to sweat.”
“Thirty-five minutes so far,” Derek replies, following your lead and fanning himself.
Hotch looks mildly uncomfortable, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Spencer, however, looks the most miserable using the collar of his sweater vest to wipe his face.
“You guys should take your jackets off,” you suggest, eyeing Morgan and Hotch.
You don’t need to tell Derek twice, as he removes his jacket, revealing a black short sleeved shirt that looks a lot more comfortable. Hotch looks reluctant to do the same, but eventually gives in, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt collar. You take a peak as he reveals his broad, muscled shoulders for a moment, before readjusting his shirt. Hotch notices your glance and his eyes shoot up to yours, catching you in the moment as your cheeks flush. You quickly look away.
“Oh, she’s enjoying the view, alright,” Derek smirks and you give him a warning glance.
“Shut up. I was just surprised Hotch would give in.”
Morgan grins and nudges Hotch with his elbow, “Look at that, Hotch. You’re surprising us all today. First you smile and now you’re taking your jacket off. What’s next, dancing a jig?” You and Spencer snort at his comment. Hotch rolls his eyes at Morgan’s teasing but can’t help a small smile from appearing on his lips.
Spencer struggles with his vest and you give him a hand. “Here, let me help you”, you say as you scoot closer, pulling the vest over his head. The fabric feels soft, but incredibly warm in your hands. You don’t know how he managed to keep it on for this long. Reid is taken aback for a moment, but mutters a soft thanks. Morgan and Hotch watch the exchange with interest, clearly amused at the sight of you being so forward with Reid.
“Now it’s your turn, you’re the one who insisted,” Morgan states, and you can’t help but agree as you take your blazer off, giving a satisfied hum at the immediate relief.
“I’ll open up some buttons too, if you don’t mind,” you announce as your fingers start working on your blouse. You don’t give them a chance to respond, since it seems only fair. Their eyes widen at your gesture, all of them staring at the sight of your blouse slightly opening up. Morgan lets out a low whistle, “Now that’s a nice view.”
“You’re insufferable,” you scoff as you stop unbuttoning, showing just a hint of your lacy bra. Morgan’s eyes linger on the sight, clearly enjoying the view. Hotch and Reid look like they’re struggling to keep their cool. Reid is the most flustered of all, turning bright red as he focuses on his hands. Morgan glances around at the others, seeing them struggle to keep themselves composed.
He chuckles and shakes his head, enjoying the effect you’re having on them. “You know, you’re driving all of us a little crazy here, sweetheart.”
You let out a small huff, “Give me a break. You’re wearing shortsleeves, I’m the one wearing a blouse.”
Hotch speaks up, his gaze lingering on your blouse. “That blouse does seem a bit warm.”
“Thank you!” You say, glad someone is on your side.
Hotch eyes stay focused on you though, or specifically the bit of exposed collarbone and the lace that’s hugged around the swell of your breast. Your breathing heaves when you find Spencer taking occasional peaks as well, watching with a mixture of awe and embarrassment, finding difficulty in looking away.
“Let’s just all take our shirts off, I want it to be fair”, you quickly exclaim, done with the heavy tension that’s driving you crazy. Hotch and Morgan exchange amused glances as Spencer eyes turn big, taking in your proposal.
“All our shirts, are you sure about that?” Derek asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Then at least you won’t eye me like that.”
“Oh, I think I’ll eye you only more.” Derek teases, licking his lips.
“Just take your damn shirt off.”
Derek chuckles and raises his hands in surrender, “Alright, alright. No need to get feisty.” He says as he lifts his shirt off in a smooth motion. It’s a known fact that Derek is jacked, but seeing him in a setting like this, abs glistening with sweat and pupils still dilated from looking at you, is on a whole ‘nother level.
You’re glad the attention is taken away from your peering eyes as Hotch follows suit, unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a clearly defined muscular chest with just a hint of hair. You start doubting your suggestion as it feels like the room is only growing hotter. You look over at Spencer, seeing whether he’ll be the next. Spencer hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting between the other’s bare chests and your unbuttoned blouse. His chest heaving with his breath, suggesting that he’s more affected than he’s letting on.
“Come on, pretty boy. Join the party.” Derek says.
“I’ll go first,” you assure Spencer, not wanting him to suffer under peer pressure. Your hands start working on the buttons. Spencer’s eyes widened at the scene in front of him.
“See, it’s not that hard,” you reassure Spencer, folding your blouse and placing it next to you.
“I don’t know about that. You’re making things pretty hard, baby girl.” Morgan comments, making you laugh.
“You’re way too dirty for your own good.”
Morgan grins. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at you. You’re looking mighty tempting right now.”
You softly smile at the compliment and focus back on Spencer. “You’ll feel a lot cooler, I promise,” you encourage.
“I don’t know. I’m not as… toned as the others.” It hurts you to hear how he’s comparing himself to his colleagues.
“Do you truly think I care about that?” You ask him. “It’s not a competition. I just want you to feel comfortable,” you speak genuinely. Spencer looks up at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of mockery or deception. When he finds none, his face softens and he nods. He lifts his shirt over his head, revealing a body no less impressive than the others.
“Not too bad, pretty boy. You’re looking pretty good without that vest on.” Derek compliments.
“You do,” You agree, as you fold his shirt and place it on top of my blouse. Spencer gives you a sheepish smile, grateful for your help. Glad he decided to take his shirt off as he felt the cool air hit his chest, “Yeah, that does feel better.”
You look around the room, the scene for sure one to be put down in the history books of the BAU. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve entered a new step in our colleague bonding,” you awkwardly chuckle, trying to lighten the mood but the air feels charged with an unspoken tension that’s impossible to ignore. You can feel their eyes on you, the way they linger, the weight of their gazes following your every movement. You try to ignore it, to stay professional, but your body betrays you. You shift slightly, adjusting your skirt, and that’s when you feel it - the subtle brush of Hotch’s fingers caressing your arm.
You swallow hard as you look away. The air around you is suddenly too tight. You want to curse your body as your nipples harden under his steady gaze, there being no way to blame it on the cold. Derek notices the exchange and leans in, the heat between you two palpable.
His voice is low and husky, “You're all worked up, sweetheart. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.”
Your pulse quickens, the sound of your heartbeat almost drowning out his words. “I’m not the only one,” you counter, voice quieter, but the challenge in it is unmistakable. You feel Spencer shift next to you, his body tense as he feels like he’s been caught staring at your chest. “Don’t be shy, genius,” Derek teases. “We’re all thinking the same thing right now.” You can’t help but smile at Spencer’s flustered look. “It’s… It’s hard not to, when you-” He cuts himself off, his voice faltering as his eyes dart away from your breasts.
Hotch is still standing by the door, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watches the dynamic play out. “We’ve been stuck in here long enough. I think it’s safe to say we all want and feel the same thing.” The air thickens with desire as he dares to say the thought that’s been occupying everyone’s mind. You glance at the others, seeing how Spencer is adjusting himself in his pants and the way Derek is watching you, his gaze so intense it almost feels like he’s touching you.
“Guess it’s only fair if we all just… give in to it,” you murmur, your eyes flicking between them. The suggestion is there, unspoken but understood.
From there on everything feels like a blur. You hear Hotch growl behind you as he wraps his bicep around your neck, pulling you in as his lips crash against yours. You whimper against his mouth, which gives him the opportunity to let his tongue slide in. You welcome his tongue with yours as your hand moves to squeeze the arm around your neck, making full use of the circumstances to feel up on his muscles.
“You’re always driving me crazy when wearing this skirt,” Hotch groans in your ear as his teeth pull on your earlobe. You can find no other way to respond than let out a high pitched sound of enjoyment as his free hand kneads your ass through your pencil skirt. Spencer watches the scene unfold in front of him. How his boss roughly grabs and kisses you, manhandling you.
“I- I don’t know about this…” Spencer stammers.
Morgan turns to him, breaking the intense gaze he had on you and Hotch. “Don’t worry Reid, she’s enjoying it.”
“Are you sure?” Spencer asks, uncertainty in his voice as Hotch is pulling on your hair, giving him access to plant kisses and bites on your neck.
Morgan grins, “Let me show you how sure I am,” he says as he steps towards you and Hotch. He rolls your skirt up to your stomach and lets his fingers slide over your panties, cursing when it easily slips between your folds, creating a wet sound. You moan at the friction, not in the state to feel embarrassed by how wet you are.
“See Reid, she loves it,” Derek points out, licking his lips as he pulls your damp panties to the side. Spencer lets out a groan as Derek reveals your glistening pussy, his hand subconsciously squeezing the bulge in his pants for any form of release.
“Let me see,” Hotch insists, removing his lips from your neck. Derek slides a finger through your folds and proudly displays the stickiness to Hotch.
“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?,” Hotch whispers, his nose pressed against the side of your face. “Just been begging to get in a situation like this so we could all fuck you the way you deserve.” You whimper at his dirty words and hot breath on your skin. Your legs feel like jelly as he grinds himself against your ass. Derek continues to apply pressure with his hand as he lets his fingers rub up and down your lips and clit.
Spencer’s eyes are burning holes in your chest. He just can’t understand how no one has touched your lovely tits, while they’ve been teasing him the entire time.
“You can come here Spence,” you purr, hypnotizing him to walk towards you. He swallows as he’s close enough to touch you, close enough to hear all the little sounds you’re making as you’re being touched all over.
“Can I-?” You don’t let Spencer finish his question as you quickly nod, throwing your head back as his finger grazes over your nipple, sending a direct spark of pleasure to your clit.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers mostly to himself in awe as he cups your breast, the shape fitting perfectly in his large hand.
“Thank you,” you whisper back. It’s ironic how his sweet compliment is the thing that's making you shy.
Derek slips a finger inside of you with ease, and you bite your lip to hold back your mewls. “Don’t do that. I like the way you sound.” Spencer encourages, resulting in another moan from you, loving the effect his words have on you.
Hotch unclasps your bra from behind and Spencer helps him by pulling your straps down, letting your breasts fall free. Hotch grabs your left breast, kneading it with his strong, calloused hands as he rolls your nipple in between his fingers. Spencer uses the momentary distraction to bend down and experimentally licks your nipple, humming at the sensation. He gives a couple more licks to your breast as he pulls your nipple in between his lips, sucking on it as he flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud.
You feel overwhelmed by the way all of your erogenous zones are stimulated at once; Hotch licking and biting on your neck and ear, while massaging your breast and grinding his hardness against your ass. Spencer’s swollen lips and wet tongue tracing over your nipple as Derek caresses your thighs as he adds a second finger into your pussy. You realize that this is what pleasure is supposed to be like. The zones on your body are all connected and you haven’t experienced true bliss until those spots get triggered at the same time.
“Morgan, is she ready?” Hotch asks, breathing heavily.
“More than ready, sir,” Derek grins as he takes a step back. He lets his fingers slide out of you, making you whimper at the loss of contact, but then Hotch turns you around so that your chest is pressed up against the elevator doors where he was standing.
“I need you for myself,” he groans. Derek tosses a condom from his jeans and Hotch catches it, ripping the package with his teeth while pulling his trousers down to his knees, not wanting to let a single moment go to waste. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he slowly enters you.
“Oh my god… I feel so full,” you whine and you swear you could feel him grin as you register that he’s not even fully inside of you. You let out a long breath as you feel his balls make contact with your ass.
“You’re doing okay there, princess?” Derek chuckles and you nod. Hotch slowly moves his length out of you as he slams his hips back in with a groan. You gasp as you wrap your hand around the back of his head, keeping yourself steady as he continues thrusting into you. His growls feel hot against your neck. His sweaty chest pressed up against your back, leaving you completely in his grasp.
“You feel that angel? How your pussy swallows my cock?” You let out a cry as you nod your head in agreement.
“I don’t understand Y/N. You’re a big girl, use your words.”
“Oh god…’’ Your head spins as he pounds into you. “I’m not going to tell you again Y/N, use your words.” He orders.
“Yes!’’ you cry out. ‘’God yes Aaron, it feels so good. I can feel you so deep inside of me.”
“Say my name again.” He moans as his hand trails down your stomach until it reaches your swollen bud. “Aaron, please… I’m so, so close.” He gives some quick taps to your clit, making you squirm in pleasure as your knees give out. His strong hands grip you by the waist and he hoists you back up on his dick. “I’m almost there honey, you can keep it up, be good for me.”
You let out a string of whines as he uses the palm of his hand to swiftly move against your folds, indirectly bringing pleasure to your clit. You can’t take it any more, pressing your nails into his arms as you crouch down in front of him, shaking as your release hits you. Hotch groans loudly as his dick slips out of your pussy. His dick twitches as he takes off the condom, painting your back with hot spurts of cum.
You have your eyes closed, trying to catch your breath as you’re still riding down your orgasm. You hum as you feel the soft material of Spencer’s sweater vest against your back, cleaning you up.
“You okay?” Spencer asks, kneeled in front of you. You nod your head and softly smile at his tenderness.
“Yeah. I feel really, really good.” You answer, making Spencer return your smile. With him in front of you, you notice the visible outline of his bulge pressed against his thigh and reach out to touch it. Your fingers lightly brush over his length, causing him to shudder.
“Do you want me to take care of you?” You ask sensually, looking in his eyes.
“Not really,” he responds, taking you by surprise. He sees your expression and quickly corrects himself. “It’s not like I don’t want you to! I’d- I’d love you to do…”, he’s not actually sure what you planned on doing to him. “Whatever you would do. I just-,” his voice softens, meeting your gaze. “I really need to know what you taste like.”
Your cheeks warm, feeling your arousal grow. “Okay,” you exhale. Spencer extends his hand, helping you up. You find your blazer and bundle it up for Spencer to lay his head on. You’re amazed at how willing he is to get down on the floor, ready to eat you out in a very nontraditional and arguable unsanitized way. You hover over his face as you get down on your knees, letting out a hum as his breath tingles your pussy. Spencer kneads your calves and runs his hands up the back of your thighs. He tilts his head up, placing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.
“Feels good,” you mumble. Spencer responds with a hum against your skin, the vibration causing you to moan. He grabs your thighs, slowly pulling them further apart. “I can’t wait to taste you,” he admits, sticking out his tongue and licking a stripe up your folds. You moan, arching your back. Through hooded eyes you spot the figure of Hotch. He’s sitting against the wall in front of you, lazily stroking his half hard length as he stares at you.
Just when you were about to question where Morgan was, you catch him in your periphery. He holds your gaze as he approaches, coming to a stop right in front of you. His belt buckle hangs open, but it doesn’t look like he’s touched himself.
“If you don’t mind, I’d really like to take up on that offer genius here denied.” You grin at him, hands reaching out to his belt. Spencer is keeping himself busy, licking and sucking up your juices. You pull Derek’s pants down, gasping as his dick springs free, slapping against his happy trail. You groan in delight as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He tilts his head back at the contact. “Fuck baby, your hands feel so warm and soft.” You lean forward and let some of your spit dribble down on his dick, making him hiss. You move your thumb in circles over his tip, mixing your saliva with his precum. When it feels like it’s wet enough, you move your hand up and down his length in a steady motion.
His tip grows red and you cannot resist licking your lips before putting your mouth on him. He feels heavy in your mouth as you take him in deeper, stimulating him with your tongue as you suck. His hands tangle in your hair, holding you as he moves in sync with your movements.
Spencer moves a hand up the curve of your ass while he uses the other to unbuckle his belt. He slides his hand in his pants, rubbing himself over his boxers as he relishes in your taste. His lips nibble on your labia as his nose tickles against your clit.
“Don’t get distracted, baby girl,” Derek states, softly pushing your head back down. You swallow around him and try to up your pace. Derek takes your breast in his hand, massaging it. As your nipples harden he takes one in between his fingers, pulling on it. You gasp at the sensation, making his dick slide deeper down your throat.
“Fuck! Right there baby, that feels so good,” he pants. You blink away tears, continuing the steady movement of your head and swirls of your tongue.
Spencer’s dick starts feeling too hot in his boxers and he pulls it out, so that it lays against his stomach. Your pussy is absolutely dripping because of the swipes of Spencer’s tongue and the taste of Derek in your mouth. Spencer can’t keep up with licking you clean, your wetness dripping down his chin. He reaches out to grab his length, the skin to skin contact overstimulating him.
You notice Spencer getting restless underneath you. Derek’s dick pops out of your mouth. “Are you okay, Spence?” You ask. He hums against your clit in response, you let out a high pitched moan and instinctively bend your knees. “Sorry,” you apologize as you want to tilt your hips back up, but Spencer pulls you back down by your thighs, making you sit on his face.
“Oh god…” You moan as he starts devouring you. He keeps a hand firm on your ass as he starts jerking himself off to the beautiful sounds that you’re making. You lazily tug on Derek’s cock, too distracted by Spencer’s tongue.
“Oh Spencer, I’m going to cum,” you whimper, mouth open and brows furrowed in pleasure. You start grinding yourself on his tongue, seeking your release. You find the perfect spot and Spencer presses the tip of his tongue against your clit, as you fall undone. Spencer laps up your juices and squeezes the load out of his dick as it splatters on his belly. You lift your hips to give Spencer some space. He moves away, joining you on his knees as he sits behind you, pressing featherlight kisses to your back.
“I’m not gonna last that much longer,” Derek announces, who’s been stroking himself to your orgasm. “Come here, then,” you invite as you take him back in your mouth. Placing a hand on his thigh for support, you use all of the energy that is left in you to suck him off. Your free hand reaches out to play with his balls, which seems to be the trigger for him.
“Fuck, Y/N, baby, I’m going to cum!” He groans deeply as he fills your mouth. You quickly swallow his load, eyes watering as he pulls you in by your head, needing your lips on him as he rides out the aftershocks.
“Fuck… You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He sighs, letting go of your hair so that you can catch your breath.
-
“Who the hell is in there?”
The voice outside is sharp and gruff. Everyone’s heads whip around, startled. Hotch swiftly buckles his belt as he strides towards the elevator doors.
“This is SSA Aaron Hotchner of the BAU. I’m stuck here with three of my agents.”
The voice responds quickly, dripping with disbelief. "Why didn’t you morons use the emergency button?"
Your colleagues look at each other, then shift their gaze to you, all with accusing looks plastered on their faces.
"Hey, don’t look at me! I’m the first one that pressed the red button!" You say in defense.
The voice outside huffs in frustration. "Red? It's a black button."
You blink in surprise, your gaze snapping to the panel. You crawl up to get a better look, and sure enough, there's a black button, boldly labeled ‘EMERGENCY.’
"What in the world?" you mutter under your breath. "Then what the hell is the red button for?!"
The voice outside laughs sarcastically. "How the hell am I supposed to know? I’ve been working here for six months. Don’t blame me because you can’t read." He pauses, clearly shaking his head. "FBI agents, my ass."
You blink in disbelief. You share an incredulous glance with Derek, then burst out laughing, your frustration giving way to amusement. "Seriously?" you mutter, shaking your head.
Derek notices how Spencer’s been unusually quiet. “Speak up, kid,” he urged.
“I’ve known what the buttons do the entire time,” he says, voice casual.
You and Hotch both turn to look at him, eyes wide. “What?!” You both exclaim at the same time.
Spencer shrugs, a playful glint in his eyes. “I told you about those movies where people overcome their differences to try to escape. I wanted to see how we would solve it.”
Derek’s mouth drops open. “You’ve been sitting here the whole time knowing exactly what to do and didn’t say anything?!”
Spencer smiles, looking almost proud of himself. “It’s a team-building exercise,” he says matter-of-factly. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t enjoy it.”
You shake your head, laughing in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable, Reid.”
As if on cue, the elevator jolts, and the soft ding of the doors opening fills the space.
Summary: The one where Spencer accompanies you to a family wedding
requests are open
The crisis began with an innocent question from your mother during your weekly phone call.
"So, sweetie, are you bringing anyone to Rachel's wedding?"
You paused in the middle of reviewing case files, suddenly remembering that your cousin's wedding was in exactly two weeks and you had somehow managed to forget the most important detail: you'd told your entire extended family you were bringing a date.
"Um," you said intelligently.
"The plus-one you mentioned at Christmas? I'm so excited to meet him! Your father's been wondering if he's in law enforcement too, and Aunt Margaret wants to know if he's taller than cousin David because she's convinced tall men make better husbands..."
Your mother continued chattering about seating arrangements and dinner preferences while you experienced what could only be described as a full-scale panic attack. You had definitely, absolutely, without question told your family you were bringing someone. You could vividly remember the conversation, your mother's pointed questions about your love life, your defensive response that you were "seeing someone," the immediate follow-up questions that led to you painting a picture of a nonexistent boyfriend.
A nonexistent boyfriend who was now expected to attend a family wedding in two weeks.
"...so I put you both down for the salmon, but if he's vegetarian we can change that..."
"Mom," you interrupted weakly, "I actually need to check if he can make it. Work might be... complicated."
"Oh, of course! Federal agents have such demanding schedules. Just let me know as soon as possible for the final headcount!"
After hanging up, you sat staring at your phone in horror. You needed a wedding date in two weeks. Someone presentable, someone who could handle your family's enthusiastic questioning, someone who wouldn't mind pretending to be your boyfriend for an entire weekend.
Someone who was currently sitting twenty feet away, completely absorbed in a book about forensic anthropology.
"Spencer," you said before you could think better of it.
He looked up immediately, noting something in your tone. "Everything alright?"
"I have a situation."
Spencer closed his book and gave you his full attention. "What kind of situation?"
"A family situation. Specifically, a wedding situation."
"Are you getting married?" Spencer asked with a slight expression of panic that you were too stressed to analyze.
"No! No, I'm not getting married. My cousin's getting married, and I may have told my family I was bringing a date, and I don't actually have a date, and now I need someone to come to a wedding with me in two weeks and pretend to be my boyfriend."
Spencer blinked several times, processing this information.
"You need someone to attend a social function under false romantic pretenses," he summarized.
"That's... one way to put it."
Spencer considered this with his characteristic analytical intensity. "What would this involve, exactly?"
"Well, it's a weekend wedding. Friday night rehearsal dinner, Saturday ceremony and reception. You'd need to meet my family, make small talk, maybe dance a little, and generally convince everyone that we're... together."
"Dancing," Spencer repeated with obvious concern.
"Just a little. Nothing fancy."
Spencer was quiet for a long moment, and you prepared yourself for polite rejection. This was a ridiculous request to make of a colleague, even one you'd grown close to over the past few months.
"Actually," Spencer said slowly, "this could be quite interesting from an anthropological perspective."
"Anthropological perspective?"
"Wedding rituals, family dynamics, social behavior patterns in celebratory contexts. It would be like participant-observer research in cultural anthropology."
You stared at Spencer, who was now looking genuinely intrigued rather than horrified.
"Are you saying you'll do it?"
"I'm saying it sounds like a fascinating opportunity to observe complex social interactions in their natural environment while helping a friend solve a logistical problem."
"Spencer Reid, are you agreeing to be my fake wedding date for science?"
"I prefer the term 'anthropological research opportunity,'" Spencer replied with a small smile, "but essentially, yes."
Two days before the wedding, Spencer appeared at your desk with a notebook and what appeared to be a research dossier.
"I've been preparing for our anthropological expedition," he announced, sitting down with the focused intensity of someone about to brief you on a complex case.
"Anthropological expedition?"
"The wedding," Spencer clarified. "I've researched optimal strategies for successful romantic deception, analyzed common family interrogation patterns, and prepared background information for our fictional relationship."
You looked at Spencer's notebook, which was filled with his neat handwriting and appeared to be surprisingly comprehensive.
"Spencer, what exactly have you been researching?"
"Well, I started with contemporary wedding customs and typical family dynamics at social gatherings, but then I realized I needed to understand the specific context of our supposed relationship to maintain consistent cover stories."
Spencer flipped through several pages of notes.
"So I've created a timeline of our fictional romance, including how we met, our first date, relationship milestones, and shared interests that would explain our compatibility."
"You made up an entire fake relationship history?"
"I wanted to be thorough," Spencer said seriously. "Inconsistent details could compromise the entire operation."
You couldn't help but smile at Spencer's approach to fake dating, which was apparently identical to his approach to everything else: intensive research and methodical preparation.
"Okay, what's our story?"
Spencer consulted his notes with obvious pride. "We met through work, which is true, and began dating four months ago after you recommended a book that I found particularly insightful. Our first date was dinner at that Italian restaurant downtown, followed by a discussion about Russian literature that lasted until 2 AM."
"That's... actually quite believable."
"I based it on real interactions we've had, just recontextualized as romantic rather than platonic," Spencer explained. "We both enjoy intellectual conversation, we have compatible work schedules, and we share similar values regarding relationships and personal goals."
Spencer continued flipping through his notes. "I also researched your family based on information you've mentioned in previous conversations. Your mother is a retired teacher who enjoys gardening and asks detailed questions about your personal life. Your father is an engineer who appreciates logical thinking and has strong opinions about home improvement projects."
"Spencer, how do you remember all of that?"
"I pay attention when you talk," Spencer said simply, then seemed to realize how that sounded. "I mean, for research purposes. To maintain consistent cover stories."
"Right. Research purposes."
Spencer cleared his throat and returned to his notes. "I also prepared answers for likely questions about our relationship status, future plans, and why I'm suitable boyfriend material for their daughter."
"And why are you suitable boyfriend material?"
Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly. "Well, I have a stable career, advanced education, no criminal history, and I'm... respectful of your independence and intellectual capabilities?"
"Spencer, you've put more thought into being my fake boyfriend than most people put into being real boyfriends."
"I wanted to do a good job," Spencer replied earnestly. "This is important to you, so it's important to me."
Something warm settled in your chest at his sincere desire to help, even if he was approaching it like an academic exercise.
"Thank you," you said softly. "I really appreciate this."
"It should be fun," Spencer replied. "I mean, scientifically interesting. From an observational standpoint."
"Right. Scientific."
The wedding weekend began exactly as you'd expected: with your mother immediately cornering Spencer the moment you walked into the restaurant.
"You must be the famous boyfriend!" she exclaimed, enveloping Spencer in a hug that clearly caught him off guard. "I'm so excited to finally meet you! We've heard so much about you!"
Spencer looked at you with mild panic before recovering his composure. "It's wonderful to meet you, Mrs. L/N. Y/N talks about you frequently."
"She does?" your mother asked, clearly delighted.
"Oh yes. She mentioned that you recently started a new gardening project with heirloom tomatoes, and that you're considering expanding into heritage roses next season."
Your mother's face lit up with genuine pleasure. "You remembered that? How sweet! And you work with Y/N at the FBI?"
"I'm a supervisory special agent with the Behavioral Analysis Unit," Spencer replied, slipping seamlessly into the boyfriend role. "Y/N is one of our most valuable team members. Her analytical skills and investigative instincts are exceptional."
You watched your mother practically melt at Spencer's combination of professional respect and personal pride in your accomplishments.
"He's a keeper," she whispered to you loudly enough for Spencer to hear.
The evening continued with Spencer charming your extended family with his genuine interest in their lives and his encyclopedic knowledge of random topics. When your uncle mentioned his vintage car restoration project, Spencer launched into a fascinating discussion of automotive history. When your teenage cousin complained about her AP Chemistry homework, Spencer offered to explain molecular bonding in ways that actually made sense.
"Your boyfriend is amazing," your cousin Rachel gushed during a quiet moment. "He actually listened when I was talking about wanting to study forensic science, and he gave me reading recommendations and everything!"
"He's... very attentive," you agreed, watching Spencer help your elderly grandfather with his phone's camera settings while explaining the basics of digital photography.
"And he looks at you like you hung the moon," Rachel continued dreamily. "It's so romantic!"
You followed her gaze to see Spencer glancing in your direction with a soft smile, checking to make sure you were enjoying yourself.
"That's just... Spencer being Spencer," you said weakly.
"If you say so. But I've never seen you this relaxed at a family event. Usually you're all tense and defensive when people ask about your love life."
Rachel was right. You were more relaxed than usual, and it wasn't just because you had successfully deflected the usual questions about your relationship status. Spencer's presence was genuinely comforting, he handled your family's enthusiasm with grace, deflected intrusive questions with polite redirection, and somehow made you feel like you had a teammate rather than just a fake date.
"Y/N," Spencer appeared at your side, "your aunt is asking about our first date. Should I tell the Italian restaurant story we prepared?"
"Perfect," you agreed, then realized Spencer's hand had somehow found yours during the conversation. His fingers were warm and slightly nervous, but the gesture looked natural enough that you doubted anyone else noticed it was new.
"Is this okay?" Spencer asked quietly, noticing your glance at your joined hands.
"More than okay," you replied, surprised by how much you meant it.
Spencer's smile was soft and genuine, and for a moment you forgot that this was all an elaborate performance.
"Good," he said simply, squeezing your hand gently. "Because I think your cousin is about to ask us to demonstrate how we met."
Sure enough, cousin David was approaching with the confident grin of someone who'd had just enough wine to think that embarrassing the happy couple was an excellent idea.
"This should be interesting," you murmured.
"Don't worry," Spencer replied, "I've prepared for this contingency."
Of course he had.
Saturday morning brought the realization that Spencer had somehow managed to pack formal attire that was not only appropriate but actually quite attractive.
"You clean up nice, Dr. Reid," you said as you met him in the hotel lobby, noting how well his navy suit fit and how he'd managed to tame his usually unruly hair.
"Thank you," Spencer replied, then seemed to remember his role. "You look beautiful. That dress is... very flattering."
There was something in Spencer's voice, a sincerity that went beyond polite fake-boyfriend compliments, that made you feel genuinely beautiful rather than just appropriately dressed.
"Thank you," you said softly.
The ceremony was lovely, made more enjoyable by Spencer's whispered commentary on wedding traditions and their historical origins. Instead of being bored by the lengthy proceedings, you found yourself fascinated by Spencer's explanations of everything from the significance of wedding rings to the evolution of processional music.
"Did you know that the tradition of carrying flowers stems from ancient beliefs about warding off evil spirits?" Spencer murmured during a particularly long reading.
"Are you seriously giving me a lecture on wedding anthropology during my cousin's ceremony?" you whispered back, fighting the urge to laugh.
"Educational commentary," Spencer corrected quietly. "And only because you seemed interested."
You were interested, you realized. Spencer's enthusiasm for sharing knowledge was endearing rather than annoying, probably because he genuinely wanted to enhance your experience rather than show off his intelligence.
During the exchange of vows, you found yourself stealing glances at Spencer, who was listening with the focused attention he brought to everything. There was something about seeing him in this context, dressed up, relaxed, genuinely enjoying himself at a social event, that made you see him differently.
"They seem really happy," you whispered as the bride and groom kissed to seal their marriage.
"They do," Spencer agreed, then looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. "It's nice, seeing people find that kind of connection."
"Yeah," you said quietly. "It is."
As the recessional music began and the wedding party processed out, Spencer offered you his arm with old-fashioned courtesy.
"Shall we proceed to the reception, my dear?" he asked with a slight smile.
"We shall," you replied, taking his arm and noting how natural it felt to walk beside him.
The reception was where Spencer's anthropological research approach really shone. He navigated the complex social dynamics of a wedding reception with surprising skill, making conversation with your relatives, deflecting intrusive questions about your relationship timeline, and even managing to look like he was enjoying himself during the cocktail hour.
"You're really good at this," you observed as Spencer returned from a conversation with your great-aunt Margaret, who was notorious for her invasive personal questions.
"She's actually quite interesting," Spencer replied. "Did you know she was one of the first female engineers at her company? She has some fascinating stories about workplace discrimination in the 1960s."
"Spencer, she usually spends family events interrogating people about their life choices and offering unsolicited advice about marriage and children."
"She asked about those things, but when I showed genuine interest in her professional experiences, she was much more interested in talking about her career than your reproductive timeline."
You stared at Spencer with something approaching awe. "You managed to redirect Aunt Margaret away from personal questions by asking about her engineering background?"
"People generally prefer talking about their accomplishments rather than other people's personal lives, once you give them the opportunity," Spencer explained. "She's clearly very proud of her professional achievements, and rightfully so."
"Spencer Reid, you are a social genius."
Spencer's cheeks flushed with pleasure. "I just applied basic psychological principles to social interaction."
"Whatever you applied, it worked. She actually smiled when she walked away instead of looking like she was planning your intervention."
The evening continued with Spencer exceeding every expectation you'd had about his social capabilities. He remembered names, asked follow-up questions about previous conversations, and somehow managed to make everyone feel heard and appreciated.
"Your boyfriend is delightful," your mother gushed during the dinner service. "So polite, so interested in everyone. And clearly completely devoted to you."
"Devoted?" you asked, glancing at Spencer, who was currently engaged in animated conversation with your teenage cousin about forensic science career paths.
"Oh, honey, it's obvious. He watches you constantly, not in a creepy way, but in a protective, caring way. Making sure you're comfortable, that you're enjoying yourself. And the way he talks about you!" Your mother sighed romantically. "Like you're the most fascinating person he's ever met."
You found yourself watching Spencer more carefully after your mother's observation, and realized she was right. Spencer did seem to be keeping track of you throughout the evening, catching your eye during conversations, checking to see if you needed anything, appearing at your side whenever you looked like you might want rescue from a particularly lengthy relative.
"Having fun?" Spencer asked, materializing beside you as your uncle launched into his annual political rant.
"Much more fun than usual," you admitted. "Thank you for being so great with my family."
"They're lovely people," Spencer replied genuinely. "I can see where you get your curiosity and your kindness."
Something warm fluttered in your chest at Spencer's casual compliment.
"Spencer, I..."
"Ladies and gentlemen," the DJ's voice interrupted, "it's time for our first dance!"
As the bride and groom took the floor for their first dance as a married couple, Spencer leaned closer to you.
"Fair warning," he said quietly, "I may have overstated my dancing abilities during our preparation phase."
"How overstated?"
"I may have implied basic competence when the reality is closer to 'theoretical understanding of rhythmic movement.'"
You couldn't help but laugh. "Spencer, please tell me you didn't research ballroom dancing for this wedding."
Spencer's guilty expression was answer enough.
"You researched ballroom dancing."
"I watched several instructional videos and read about the basic principles of partner dancing," Spencer admitted. "But I haven't actually practiced with another person."
"Well," you said as the DJ announced that all couples should join the bride and groom on the dance floor, "I guess we're about to find out how well theoretical knowledge translates to practical application."
Spencer offered you his hand with nervous gallantry. "Shall we test my hypothesis about applied choreographic theory?"
"We shall."
Spencer's approach to dancing was exactly what you should have expected: methodical, overthought, and surprisingly effective once he stopped trying to calculate optimal foot placement angles.
"Relax," you said softly as Spencer led you onto the dance floor with the rigid posture of someone about to perform surgery. "It's just dancing."
"Right. Just dancing. Simple rhythmic movement in partnership with another person while being observed by your entire extended family," Spencer replied, his voice slightly higher than usual.
"Spencer, breathe."
Spencer took a deliberate breath and seemed to force himself to relax slightly. The music was slow and romantic, perfect for swaying rather than actual dancing technique.
"Just follow the music," you suggested, stepping closer to Spencer and noting that he smelled like his usual combination of coffee, books, and something clean and distinctly Spencer.
"Follow the music," Spencer repeated, as if this was a crucial instruction he needed to memorize.
For the first minute or so, Spencer danced like he was following a complex algorithm, precise, controlled, and completely lacking in natural flow. But gradually, as the music continued and you relaxed against him, Spencer began to move more naturally.
"This is nice," you said softly, surprised by how comfortable it felt to be held by Spencer, how naturally you seemed to fit together.
"It is," Spencer agreed, sounding genuinely surprised. "I was expecting it to be much more complicated."
"Most things are simpler than you think they're going to be," you observed.
"I'm beginning to understand that."
As the song continued, you found yourself paying less attention to the mechanics of dancing and more attention to Spencer himself, the way he held you carefully but confidently, the way he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself despite his initial nervousness, the way he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room.
"Y/N," Spencer said softly.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for asking me to do this. I know it was probably not your first choice for wedding dates, but I'm really glad I could help."
You looked up at Spencer, noting the sincerity in his expression and the warmth in his eyes.
"Spencer, you weren't my first choice."
Spencer's face fell slightly, and you realized how that had sounded.
"You were my only choice," you corrected quickly. "I mean, when I was trying to figure out who I could ask, you were the only person I actually wanted to spend a weekend with. The only person I trusted to meet my family and not judge them or me. The only person I thought might actually enjoy the anthropological research opportunity."
Spencer's expression shifted to something soft and wondering.
"Really?"
"Really. And you've been absolutely perfect. My family adores you, you've made this whole weekend fun instead of stressful, and you're currently making me look like the luckiest woman at this wedding."
"You are the luckiest woman at this wedding," Spencer said with sudden intensity. "Not because of me, but because you're brilliant and kind and beautiful, and anyone who gets to spend time with you should consider themselves incredibly fortunate."
The sincerity in Spencer's voice made your heart skip in a way that had nothing to do with fake dating or anthropological research.
"Spencer," you said softly.
"Yeah?"
"Are we still pretending?"
Spencer was quiet for a moment, his hands warm against your back as you continued swaying together.
"I'm not sure I'm pretending anymore," he admitted quietly.
"Good," you said, stepping closer to him, "because neither am I."
The song ended, but neither of you moved to leave the dance floor. You stayed there, holding each other and looking into each other's eyes with the dawning realization that somewhere during this weekend of fake dating, something real had developed.
"So," Spencer said eventually, "what happens now?"
"Now we see what happens when we stop doing this for anthropological research purposes," you replied, smiling up at him.
"And start doing it because we want to?"
"And start doing it because we want to."
Spencer's smile was radiant. "I'd like that very much."
"Good," you said, then paused as you noticed your entire family watching you from the edge of the dance floor with varying expressions of delight and satisfaction.
"Spencer?"
"Yeah?"
"I think my family is going to take credit for this."
Spencer followed your gaze to your beaming relatives and laughed.
"You know what?" he said, pulling you closer as the next song began, "I think I'm okay with that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. After all, if they hadn't invited us to a wedding, we might never have figured out that we didn't want to pretend anymore."
As you danced together, really danced, without pretense or research objectives or anthropological curiosity, you realized that Spencer was right. Sometimes the best discoveries happened when you were looking for something else entirely.
Even if Spencer had approached the whole thing like a scientific experiment.
Especially then.
"So how was the wedding?" Garcia asked Monday morning, appearing at your desk with obvious curiosity and coffee.
"It was lovely," you replied, not looking up from your case files but unable to suppress a small smile.
"And how was Spencer as a wedding date? Did he manage to fake boyfriend convincingly?"
"He was very convincing," you said diplomatically.
"Did your family like him?"
"They adored him."
Garcia waited expectantly for more details, but you continued working with the expression of someone who was not going to volunteer additional information.
"And?" Garcia prompted.
"And what?"
"And what happened? Did you two maintain the charade successfully? Did anyone suspect it was fake? Did Spencer's anthropological research approach work?"
You finally looked up at Garcia, noting her barely contained excitement.
"Why are you so interested in the details of our fake date?"
"Because," Garcia said with poorly concealed glee, "Spencer spent all morning last week researching 'appropriate flowers for six-month relationship anniversaries' and muttering about whether tulips or roses would be more meaningful."
You felt warmth spread through your chest at the mental image of Spencer overthinking anniversary flowers with the same intensity he brought to everything else.
"Did he now?"
"Mhmm. And he asked me if I thought it would be too presumptuous to plan a weekend trip for your six-month anniversary, because he wasn't sure if you preferred structured itineraries or spontaneous exploration."
"That sounds like Spencer," you agreed, trying not to smile too obviously.
"So," Garcia said, settling in for what was clearly going to be a thorough interrogation, "how exactly does one transition from fake wedding date to real relationship? Asking for a friend."
Before you could answer, Spencer appeared at your desk carrying two cups of coffee and wearing the soft smile he seemed to reserve specifically for you.
"Good morning," he said, setting your coffee down with the careful attention to your preferences that he'd developed over months of observation. "How did you sleep?"
"Very well, thank you," you replied, accepting the coffee and noting that Spencer had remembered exactly how you liked it prepared. "How was your morning run?"
"Productive. I thought about your suggestion regarding the Milwaukee case, and I think you're right about the geographical pattern."
Garcia was looking back and forth between you with growing delight and dawning realization.
"Oh my god," she said slowly. "You two aren't faking anymore, are you?"
You and Spencer looked at each other, sharing the kind of wordless communication that had developed naturally over the past six months.
"We weren't very good at faking it in the first place," Spencer admitted. "It turns out that pretending to have feelings for someone you actually have feelings for is more complicated than anticipated."
"You had real feelings during the fake dating?" Garcia asked with obvious glee.
"Apparently we'd had real feelings for a while before the fake dating," you explained. "The wedding just gave us an excuse to act on them."
"This is the most romantic thing I've ever heard," Garcia declared. "You fell in love while pretending to be in love!"
"We didn't fall in love," Spencer corrected with characteristic precision. "We realized we were already in love."
The casual way Spencer said it, like it was simply an observable fact rather than a momentous declaration, made your heart skip in the way it had been doing regularly for the past six months.
"Spencer Reid," Garcia said with something approaching awe, "did you just casually mention being in love like you were stating a statistical fact?"
Spencer looked puzzled. "It is a fact. We've established through extensive observation and analysis that our feelings for each other meet all the criteria for romantic love."
"He researched it," you added helpfully. "Made charts."
"I made one chart," Spencer protested. "And it was very helpful for understanding the distinction between different types of affection."
Garcia stared at you both with the expression of someone witnessing a miracle.
"You two are perfect for each other," she announced. "Weird, but perfect."
As Garcia wandered off, presumably to share this development with the rest of the team, Spencer settled into the chair beside your desk.
"Do you think it's strange that I approached falling in love like a research project?" he asked with genuine curiosity.
You looked at Spencer, brilliant, analytical, endearingly methodical Spencer, who had spent a weekend pretending to be your boyfriend and somehow made it the most natural thing in the world.
"Spencer, you approach everything like a research project," you replied fondly. "I would have been concerned if you'd done it differently."
Spencer's smile was soft and pleased and completely, genuinely happy.
"Good," he said. "Because I have some ideas about optimizing our six-month anniversary celebration that I'd like to discuss."
"Does it involve charts?"
"It might involve charts."
"Then I can't wait to see it."
And as Spencer launched into what was clearly going to be a thoroughly researched anniversary plan, you realized that some things never changed, and that was exactly how you wanted it.
alpha!steddie x omega!reader
Part Two.
summary: after some disappointing news, you start to question your role in this whole situation. also lots of sex
cw: SMUT. omegaverse and everything that comes with it. lots of cum, "public sex", mmf, dvp, breeding kink, free use, eddie wears a muzzle, feral eddie
an: sorry this took so long! enjoy a lot of must to make up for it.
“Well, she’s not pregnant.”
Steve folds in his chair, face landing in the palms of his hands as he audibly sighs. Eddie shifts next to you in his seat, his knee landing on top of your thigh as he crosses his legs. You chance a look up him. His expression seems fairly neutral, not that he should really be surprised by the news anyway.
After a long two week waiting period, you’d spent the last 4 days waking up and taking a test. You’d wait the allotted time and then, with shaking hands, you’d flip the testing strip over, only to find it negative once again. Every time you’d tell yourself that it was just too early and that you’d try again tomorrow.
Any minuscule change you’d notice in your body had you wanting to rush back into the bathroom again just to check. A little nausea, slight pain in your breasts. Was that an implantation cramp? You didn’t even know what an implantation cramp was until you’d read over the book on pregnancy Steve picked up for you on his way home the week after your cycle. The two of you took turns reading it, discussing whatever contents the book went over during dinner while Eddie did his best to understand what you were talking about.
So when you finally broke it to them earlier this morning that you’d been testing negative, Steve called the doctor right away to get you in as soon as possible. Even if he was trying to hide it, you could still see the sadness in his eyes. His disappointment continued to hang in the air of the small four walled room of the fertility clinic.
“I’m sorry to deliver bad news, but I wouldn’t fret too much.” The doctor who was assisting the three of you in this arrangement was a small, older omega woman. She’d been assisting couples since before you were born and you were able to tell by your first appointment with her that she really knew her stuff.
“Even normal alpha and omega couples can take more that one try to conceive. And the three of you have several factors against you.” She looks at each of you.
“None of you are bonded for starters.” She flips through some paperwork on her clipboard, eyes scanning the page as she talks. “I know that you all are choosing a more…traditional method rather than doing any kind of insemination.”
Steve lift his head from his hands, “There’s no way our insurance would have covered any of it if we--”
“I know, Mr.Harrington. Let me finish.” The doctor says with a slow nod.
“Sorry,” Steve says, shrinking back a bit.
“I’m not here to judge, and, honestly, you’re better off doing what you’re doing. But, I just have some questions I want to ask, to make sure that you’re not doing anything that may make this take longer than necessary. Is that alright?”
Steve nods, and when the doctor looks to you and Eddie over her glasses, you both nod as well.
“Good. Now, are both of you taking part in this process or just one of you?”
“Both.” Steve and Eddie say simultaneously. The doctor nods, “Okay, and are both of you knotting at the completion of intercourse?”
Heat rises to your cheeks at the question. You know it’s part of the process, but talking about your sex practices with another person makes you want to disappear into the wall behind you.
“Yeah, I have been,” Eddie responds, almost gloating thought you’re not sure if he’s aware of it in his tone. “Almost every time.”
“Really?” The doctor raises an eyebrow at him before shifting her gaze over to Steve. “And you?”
Steve shifts, visibly uncomfortable. “I did once.”
The doctor looks at him for a moment before writing something down on her clipboard.
“Well,” she starts, “I understand knotting can be a different experience for each alpha. Usually it’s harder for an alpha to prevent one rather than having troubles achieving one…”
Steve leans forward, waving his hands dismissively. “That’s not--Jesus, I’m not having a problem with knotting. I’m just not…I’m not letting it latch. I’m…I’m pulling out.”
The doctor gives Steve a “what the fuck” look, and you can hear Eddie trying to contain a giggle under his breath.
“Mr.Harrington, I don’t really understand how you think that’s going to help your situation.: The doctor sighs, “But, it only takes one sperm to impregnate an egg, and it seems Mr.Munson is more than willing to make up for your reluctance.”
Steve rolls his eyes, sitting back in the chair with a huff. You place a hand on his leg as a reassuring gesture. He looks down at you, still clearly upset. But after a moment, a small smile tugs on his lips, and his hand comes down to rest on top of yours.
You barely register the way Eddie’s body moves closer to yours when the doctor addresses you directly. You sit up straight, giving her your undivided attention as she asks you a series of questions about your heat cycles and if you’re taking your vitamins. She writes several notes on her clipboard, giving small nods and hums of acknowledgment as you talk.
“Good, good. Everything sounds like they are going as they should. I suspect that your body most likely just needed some time to adjust to being off of your heat suppressants. Sometimes it can take a month or two for an omega to be fully fertile again. But once they body is back in it’s natural state, omegas tend to get pregnant almost immediately.”
Steve’s hand squeezed yours lightly.
“One to two months?” Eddie asked, eyes narrowed as he looked at the older woman.
“Yes? Is that a problem?”
“It’s not necessarily a problem,” he starts, leaning forward a bit in his seat, his hand resting on your knee. “But, what if we go another cycle and end up in this same situation next month?”
Steve looks at Eddie for the first time since you all arrived. You’re pretty sure they’d been talking about you not being pregnant while you were getting ready for the appointment. They seemed oddly distant since you came down and found them not talking to each other in the kitchen.
“Well, there are some things we can do to try an increase your odds for her next cycle. Tell me, when are the two of you due to go into rut?”
“I should have one in about 3 weeks, but Eddie’s not due for a month and a half.”
“I see. And you’re due for another heat here in the next week, correct?”
You nod, “Tuesday or Wednesday is what I’m predicting.”
The doctor hums, then pushes herself on her stool to the little counter top on the other side of the room. She grabs a pad and pen from a drawer and starts writing, tearing the top one off and writing again on the next. Once she tears the second slip, she wheels back over to the three of you, handing Steve and Eddie each a prescription slip with their names on it.
“These are prescriptions for inducers. Go get them filled today, but don’t take them until Monday. They take about 24 hours to kick in, so by Tuesday evening both of you should be in full rut. If you need notes for work let me know and I can write them for you.”
“They have drugs that do that?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve.
Steve shakes his head. “Wait a minute. I get why you’re giving us these, but…doesn’t it seem unsafe for us both to be rutting around her. Especially if she’s going to be in heat?”
The doctor eyes Steve. “Depends on what you’re worried about happening? She’s not your mate so you’re not competing over her. Sure, you’ll be more ‘feral’ for lack of a better word, but the two of you will still know who the other is. Unless you’ve already had issues…”
Steve looks at Eddie with a knowing look, making him curl in on himself a bit bashfully. “I guess you could say we’ve run into some unexpected road bumps.” The doctor looks at all three of you with a suspicious look before shaking her head.
“Okay,” she says with exasperation, taking her glasses off and tucking them in her pocket. “So what exactly are you worried about? Fighting? Trying to mark her? Self control issues?” Steve and Eddie nod in unison and the doctor sighs once more, muttering something about alphas under her breath.
“If you’re worried about fighting,” she says, counting with her fingers,” I would suggest staying in separate parts of the house. Designate times between the two of you to be with her and try to keep interactions with all three of you to a minimum.” A second finger. “If you’re worried about marking her…well there’s always mouth guards like athletes wear. Or you could always get a muzzle. I think ones from the pet store would be the most reliable.”
The mental image of Eddie and Steve in a muzzle made you feel a type of way that you didn’t want to explore in this doctors office right now, so you tuck that into your mind for later.
“And if you’re worried about self control…well, that’s something the three of you will have to figure out on your own. Maybe buy a leash at the pet store as well.” The doctor rises from her chair, barely standing much taller as she shakes all of your hands.
“Hopefully when I see all three of you again we will be having a different discussion. Until then, if you have any questions, try and contact one of my nurses instead.”
“I’m not wearing a damn muzzle, Eddie.”
Steve stands with his arms crossed at the end of the aisle as you and Eddie look at the different size dog muzzles. Eddie crouches down, holding his hair back as you place the different sizes and shapes over his face to find one that he finds comfortable.
“How about this one?” You ask, placing one of the small rubber pieces over his mouth. Eddie looks at you for a moment, then pretends to lunge at you like a rabid dog, making you jump back in surprise. “Jesus Christ, Eddie!” You shout at him, followed by a fit of giggles. He puts and arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him as he laughs.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “Try it again, please.”
Without warning you push the muzzle against his face and snap it shut behind his head. He looks at you with surprise, leaving you to step back to get a better look.
“What do you think, Steve?” You glance over your shoulder to find a very amused Steve eyeing his husband with a raised brow.
“I think it looks great,” he says with a sarcastic lit. “Maybe you should wear it all the time.”
“Awe, don’t be like that, Stevie,” Eddie says with a look of innocence. “How am I gonna suck you off if I have this thing on all the time?” Steve falters for a moment, but regains his composure quickly.
“I think I can manage.” Steve’s gaze lands on you for a barely there moment. One that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t already looking at him.
“Are you sure you don’t want one of these? Ya know you can get a little grumpy during your ruts?”
Steve tenses. “That’s because…” A hand runs through Steve’s hair. “Nevermind. You guys finish up here. I’m gonna run next door and check on our meds.” Without another word Steve is out the door. Eddie shakes his head before reaching behind it to unbuckle the muzzle.
“Eddie?” You look up at him with sad eyes. He’s at your side in an instant, hands on your shoulders as he looks at you with concern.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Is Steve…are…are you guys mad at me?”
Eddie reels back as if you’ve asked the most offensive question he’s ever heard.
“What? W—of course not! Why do you think that?”
“I mean, I’m not pregnant, so that would be one reason…”
Eddie steps to the side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for a side hug. His embrace melts away at your anxiousness. He’s warm against you, soothing, even through your layers of clothes.
“We’re not mad at you about that, okay?” He shakes your arm lightly, urging you to look up at him. “Obviously we knew that it might not work on the first try. Did we want it to? Sure. But that doesn’t mean we’d be upset or blame you for it.”
“But Steve…” you bite your lower lip, “he just seems so…off today.” Eddie sighs, letting arm fall from your shoulder and back to his side.
“Steve’s just…he’s a little overwhelmed with work right now. So much happened at his job the last week we took off to, well, you know. I guess someone made an error in some documentation or something and he’s been playing catch up ever since.”
You frown. You had no idea that Steve was going through so much burden at work. He must be a master at not bringing his work issues home with him, always coming through the door with a smile on his face. Him and Eddie seemed to be fine, too. And, despite your worry of it begin awkward after finally sleeping together, you all got along like everything was fine. “Wow, I-I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay, he didn’t want to have you fussing over him about it. He’s probably more worried about having to take another week off than you not being pregnant.”
You nod. Something about Steve not telling you about him being so stressed makes your heart ache. A little voice in your mind is telling you to go find him and comfort him. A little voice that you’ve been noticing ever since you moved in with Steve and Eddie.
It’s almost like you can sense their distress, but it seems to be stronger with Eddie than with Steve. Though, Eddie does wear his heart on his sleeve and likes it when you dote on him, especially when he comes home with a new cut or bruise and you insist on treating it. If you try and bring anything up with Steve, he just brushes it off and changes the subject.
“Hey, we gotta pay for this!”
Eddie’s voice pulls you from your mind. At some point you had grabbed Eddie’s hand and started to leave the pet store, him stopping you just at the threshold.
“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
“You guys are still in here?”
You snap around to find Steve right in front of you, a plastic bag in on hand as he holds the door open with the other.
“We’re about to check out,” Eddie says, pulling you towards the line. But you can’t keep your eyes off of Steve. Every stress line on his face becomes painfully obvious to you and all you want to do is smooth them out for him. You guess this is why he didn’t want to tell you. But when had you become someone who gets so upset by things like this?
“Shit.”
Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat, as the three of you pull up to the house.
“What’s wrong?” You ask from the back seat, leading around to try and see what Steve was worried about.
“Did you tell me Robin was coming over and I forgot?” Eddie asks Steve, nodding towards an unfamiliar car in the driveway. Stave nods, running a hand down his face.
“I told her we would go out with her and Vicki for drinks when they were back in town. I guess I’ve been so preoccupied that I forgot that was today.”
“Okay…well that shouldn’t be a problem…” Eddie says slowly, pulling up next to the car and putting it in park. “But with the way you’re talking, you’re making it sound like it’s a problem.”
Steve huffs out a frustrated sigh, his head rolling to the side to look at Eddie.
“I haven’t…They don’t know about…” Steve’s gestures back to you. Eddie’s eyes go wide, mouth dropping open in shock.
“You didn’t tell them about…Wait, do they even know we were doing any of this?” Eddie’s hands move wildly as he talks.
“I told them we had been talking more about kids, but I didn’t tell them exactly how we were intending on having them.”
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie huffs, rolling his eyes. “So we have to walk in there and say ‘oh, hey guys, nice to see you. By the way, this is the girl we’re fucking so we can have a baby.’”
You tried really hard to keep it in, but a snort escapes you and catched both men’s attention. They both look back at you as you cover your mouth with your hand, waving the other defensively.
“I’m sorry,” you say through giggles. “It’s not funny, but I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell your friends. We’re you just going to hide me in my room for 9 months or something?”
“No, no!” Both of them start talking over each other and it only makes you laugh more.
After you reassure them that you didn’t actually think they were going to hide you away, the three of you came up with a quick game plan on how to explain things to Robin and Vicki. It was funny to see the two of them nervous to enter their own home. You could feel the nerves rolling off of both of them as they stepped inside.
You caught a glimpse of Robin, who you’d seen in pictures around the house, sitting at the island. Her eyes were on the TV, mindlessly scooping chips into your home made salsa before she noticed you all come in.
“There you guys are!” Robin scoots off of her seat and comes bounding towards Steve and Eddie, wrapping her arms around the both of them. You couldn’t smell her, but you could tell she was an alpha by the way she carried herself. Tall, with piercing eyes and a sureness about her that told you she could go toe to toe with someone if they messed with her. She was beautiful enough that she could be a model if she wanted to; someone who belonged on a magazine cover.
A smaller, mousier girl rounded the corner. Her curious eyes met yours instantly, and you quickly clocked her as a fellow omega. “Hey guys, who’s you’re friend?”
Robin takes a step back and peers around Steve until her eyes meet yours as well. “Woah, I didn’t even see you there.”
“It’s okay,” you say. You introduce yourself, and look over to Eddie and Steve to take care of the rest.
“Um, Bobbie, Vicki, we, uh…” Steve starts out confident but falters as he starts to overthink everything.
“This is our surrogate!” Eddie accidentally shouts, startling you and Vicki. Robin’s jaw practically hits the floor, eyes darting back and fourth between the two men before landing on you.
“Wait, so you’re pregnant? Who’s is it? Did you guys do like a russian roulette thing or did they like mix your swimmers together and shoot them up her--”
“Robin!” Steve steps forward with his hands up, clearly distressed as Eddie practically keels over with how hard he’s laughing.
“Hi, I’m Vicki.” Her voice pulls you from the commotion in front of you. You take her soft hand in yours and give her a small smile.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you guys since I’ve been here.”
“Oh? Do-do you live here?” Her head tilts with confusion. You nod, your confirmation somehow catching Robin’s attention.
“Wait, she lives here?”
“Yes, she lives here,” Steve says, backing up to address the room. He gestures to you, “And she’s not pregnant. We just got back from the doctor to confirm it.”
“Awe,” Robin pouts, “I’m sorry. I just heard surrogate and assumed she was already pregnant.”
“Yeah, well, hopefully that’ll change here soon.”
“That’s so exciting though!” Vicki claps her hands together excitedly. “A little baby Steve or Eddie running around here.”
“Oh, god,” Robin laughs, “Which reminds me that you didn’t answer my question. How are you doing the dad thing?”
“Maybe we should go sit in the living room, then we can give you all the juicy details,” Eddie says, opening his arms to herd everyone into the other room.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Robin--”
“No, sorry, that was a rhetorical what.”
Robin and Vicki sit across from the couch you’re sharing with Steve and Eddie, who just explained to them the basics of your arrangement. Vicki, though confused at times, seemed to be doing her best to understand the dynamic of your situation. Robin, however, listened the whole time with an open mouth smile as if she’s not heard a better story in her life.
“I’m just…I don’t know. Like obviously I’m happy for you guys. Do,” She looks at you with wiggly brows as she says “do”, “whatever works for you.” She pauses for a moment to look up at the ceiling before looking back down. “Can I ask you a question though?”
“Robin,” Steve growls, and you feel both boys subtly move closer to you.
“Guys, it’s okay. Seriously.” You scoot util you’re sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning away from them. “Ask away.”
“Thank you,” Robin says, shooting Steve and Eddie a look. “I’m just curious about what you’re getting out of this. Sure, they’re taking care of you now, and they’ll take care of you until the baby is born. Then they get the baby and live happily ever after…But what about you? Like, you’re just going to go through something super traumatic and beautiful…and then you’re going to leave?”
You’re taken aback a bit by the question. It was all lined out in the contract that you’d give birth and then your role would be complete. What else was there to do? You’d hope that they’d maybe let you recover a bit before finding your own place, but they weren’t obligated to.
But the more you think about it, the more you actually hate the idea of not being around them.
“She’s going to stay here with us until she feels comfortable enough on her own.” Eddie speaks up after a tense silence took over the room.
“I get that, but, like, are you guys going to stay in contact? Is she going to stick around and play nanny to her own kid?”
“Robin.” Steve stands up abruptly, throwing everyone off guard. “I need to talk to you in private. Please.”
“Steve, I’m sorry. I’m just trying to look out for all of you--”
“Please.” You feel yourself shutter as the air in the room shifts. You feel Eddie flinch, and Robin’s jaw snaps shut. She stands up without another word and the two of them head out the back door, leaving you to feel awkward with Eddie and Vicki.
“So,” Vicki finally says after a moment, “How’s the shop going Eddie?”
The two of them talk like old friends, doing their best to add you into the conversation so you feel included. At some point, Eddie put his arm around your shoulders on the back of the couch, his knee resting on top of your leg like it had earlier at the doctor’s office.
“Nothing alcoholic for you I’m guessing?” Robin leans into you so you can hear her over the loud music of the bar.
“I mean, I’m not pregnant, so it’s okay, right?”
She shrugs at you, “I guess you better ask the dingus’s if it’s okay.”
Steve and Eddie stood a few feet away talking to each other about something you couldn’t hear. Hopping down from your seat, you walk over to them, their conversation coming to an end as soon as you get close enough.
“Everything okay?” You shout.
“Yeah, fine,” Eddie says in a clipped tone, turning his body completely away from Steve to face you. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Robin wants to know if it’s okay if I have a drink. I know I’m not pregnant but I figured I’d ask.” Steve looks at Eddie, then at you, frustration written all over his face.
“As long as it’s not going to affect your heat,” Steve shrugs before walking away. Eddie scoffs and rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in defeat.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” you say to him.
“It’s nothing. Why don’t we get you a drink, huh?” Eddie takes your hand and walks with you back to the bar side. “Oh, and be careful around Vicki. She might not look it, but that girl will drink anyone under the table.”
“Noted,” you chuckle.
The four of you do a round of shots after Robin insisted, your face pinching at the after taste of the tequila. Eddie laughs and takes your hand, bringing the lime in it to your mouth to suck on. You take it and are relieved to have the palette cleanser on your tongue.
“Wow, you took that like a champ!” Vicki shouts. She’s clearly a social drunk, opening up more now that she has a little something in her system. Robin, however, shifts from her seat suddenly, a concerned look on her face.
“I’m gonna go find Steve,” she says with a slight slur. When she takes a sideways step, Vicki follows after her, making sure she stays standing on her quest to find Steve.
“I don’t know why they’re looking for him,” Eddie shakes his head, taking a sip of his beer. “I was just out there to check on him.”
Eddie had been periodically going out to bring Steve drinks for the last hour and a half. Apparently he ran into a old friend from high school and they’d been shooting the shit the whole time. Eddie told this to Robin, too, but the more she drank the more concerned she became.
“She’s a good friend.” You say, looking up at him with a sideways smile.
“Yeah, she is. Funny as hell, can’t handle her alcohol at all.”
“I guess so,” you giggle. You play with the straw in your glass while Eddie finishes off his beer, setting it down on the bar before wiping his mouth with his hand.
“You know, I used to play shows here,” he says, looking down at you with lidded eyes.
“Oh, really?” You knew Eddie played guitar. He has a whole room dedicated to music and his guitars on the opposite end of the house. You haven’t gotten to see him play, but you sometimes here the low strumming coming from the room on his days off.
“Yep, me and my old band. We’d play for, like, 20 drunk guys on Tuesdays. It was fun.” There’s a nostalgic gleam in his eyes as he recalls fond memories from his younger years.
“I’m guessing you’ve gotten a lot of action here, too,” you say, nudging his arm with your elbow. He barks back a laugh, shaking his head.
“God, I wished I had. Believe it or not, I was a total loser back in the day.”
“What? Really? No one was throwing themselves at the guitar player?”
“No, unfortunately I wasn’t any of the 20 drunk guys type,” he said with a sarcastic lit.
“Damn, I would have been,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “That was totally my type back then. Still is I guess.” The alcohol in your system starts to take over, lowering your inhibitions and bringing out the chatty side of you.
“My ex was a bassist for this suuuuper shitty band. Don’t know how they managed it, but they toured with a couple other bands, opening for them and whatever. Anyway, I went on the road with him because I didn’t trust him. Shouldn’t have even bothered quitting my job and leaving my hometown just to make sure he stayed faithful, because he ended up fucking soul bonding with our fucking waitress at a Denny’s in Michigan.”
“Soul bonding?”
You look up at Eddie, his brows pinched in confusion. “Yeah, you’ve never heard of it?” He shakes his head. “It’s like, when you see someone for the first time and you instantly become bonded to them. Like permanent marking without the bite.”
“Woah,” Eddie’s eyes go wide, “I didn’t know that was even possible.”
“I don’t think it happens super often, but apparently it had to happen to my ex right in front of my face.”
“How do you even know? Like that you’re bonded to someone?”
“All I know for alphas is that they can’t get it up for other omegas, only the one that they’re bonded to. For omegas you can get super sick if you try to have sex with another alpha. I think you can drop, too. You also, like, really feel attached to that person, even if you don’t know anything about them and already have a girlfriend.”
“Wow, that’s crazy,” Eddie says, visibly astonished.
“I guess,” you mumble. Eddie finally catches on to your disgruntlement after the shock wears off. He puts his arm around your waist and pulls your side flush with his.
“Well, that’s his loss. Stupid bond or fate or whatever it is. And I know it still feels shitty, but I feel like…it was a good thing. Because if you had stayed with that chump then we wouldn’t be here now, right?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.” You didn’t really think much into the meaning of Eddie’s words. Especially not when he asked if you wanted to go with him to get some fresh air while he smoked.
The cool air hitting your face felt so refreshing compared to the heat from the packed bar. There weren’t many people out on this back patio, most of the noise coming from the front smoking area.
“Want one?” Eddie asks, offering you a cigarette from his pack.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.”
You don’t know what it is, but the way Eddie uses his teeth to pull a cigarette out of its box makes you feel a type of way. You’re sure it’s from the alcohol, but you also couldn’t deny that he was attractive anyway. He was rough, tatted, smelled amazing. But he was also gentle, caring and attentive. In another reality, maybe the two of you could have been meant for each other.
“Take a picture, sweetheart,” Eddie teases. You had been staring at him and he caught you. But, at the moment, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.
“Not as good as the real thing,” you say matter of factly.
“Hmmm, got me there.” The smoke bellows from his lips as he talks, being swept away with the wind. The chill cuts through for you, making you visibly shake.
“Come’er,” Eddie says, opening his arms for you to embrace him again. You rush into him, your face colliding with the material of his chore jacket. It smells faintly of the grease from his work, but mostly of his natural scent that you gladly let invade your sinuses. He wraps his arms around you, letting his lips land on the crown of your head. The heat of his body instantly warms you up and you feel…at home.
“Eddie.” You move your face from his chest, looking up at him as his face is mere inches from yours. He barely gives you a second to think before his lips are crashing into yours. The feeling of fireworks erupting in your mind has you gasping It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt in a kiss before. You stand in shock, not fully processing what’s happening until you feel him pulling away.
“Are you okay?” His eyes shift between yours, looking for an answer to his question before you can speak it.
“Eddie…you kissed me…”
“Yeah…and?” He says it so passively, as if he doesn’t have a whole husband standing on the other side of the building.
“But--But, Steve-- I--I don’t--”
“Didn’t you say free game in the contract?”
You’re suddenly very aware of how very hard Eddie is as he’s pressed up against you and it sends an ache straight to your core. You did say that you’d be willing and available any time that Steve or Eddie wanted you…
You look up at Eddie through your lashes and nod. The devilish grin on Eddie’s face gives you the chills. And when he kisses you again, it melts those chills away, stoking the flame building up inside you.
Shuffling feet and slamming doors, Eddie pins you against the door of the men’s restroom door. Your lips move feverishly against each others, fighting for dominance in your drunken stupor that you would have given into easily otherwise.
Eddie fumbled with his belt until it finally came undone, wasting no time to get his pants and boxers down just enough to free his hard cock and heavy balls. You mimick his actions, undoing your jeans and pushing them down with your panties in one quick motion, letting them pool at your ankles.
He pulls away from you, a line of spit that connects your lips to his red, kiss bitten ones. His eyes are glassy as he looks you up and down, giving you that predatory glare that you’d became accustomed to from your previous times together.
Suddenly, he’s spinning you around until your facing the bathroom door, leaving stickers and old posters to fill your vision. One of Eddie’s rough hands lands on your hip, pulling on you until your bent at just the right angle while the other grabs his hard cock to rub between your legs. He collects your wetness on his cock, and you gasp when you feel the head catch on your clit.
“Mmm, fuck.” The alcohol on his breath hits your nose as Eddie leans forward, his hand is braced against the door next to your head and pressing you into the cold metal. You feel his hard, broad chest against your back, one of his strong arms wrapping around your waist tightly.
Not a moment later you feel him breech your entrance. The stretch takes your breath away, feeling so different when you’re not under the haze of your heat. He stutters as he works you open for him, doing his best to restrain himself from just pushing all the way into you. A high pitch whine escapes your lips when his head hits that sweet spot.
“Right there, baby girl?” Eddie huffs in your ear, repeating the same movement with a sharp thrust.
“Yes!” You cry out at the sensation, nodding your head vigorously.
“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he says, nosing his way into the crook of your neck leaving sloppy kisses into your skin as he starts to thrust into you over and over.
His cold hand sends shivers through you as it snakes it’s way under your shirt, pushing under your bra to grab and fondle your tits. He pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, the feeling sending shocks straight to your core. It all feels like too much already, but when his other hand travels down between your legs, you feel like your legs might buckle under you.
Your vision goes white as you come undone, pussy clenching around Eddie’s cock as he fucks you through it. He groans as you squeeze his cock, panting against your ear as his pace starts to pick up. His arm around your waist is putting in work to hold you up as you come back to reality, your legs feeling like jelly from how hard you came.
“Fuck, I wanted to do this all night,” Eddie babbles breathlessly. “Wanted to bend you over the kitchen counter when you came downstairs. Who are you all dolled up for, huh?”
You had gone the extra mile getting ready to go out tonight. It was totally because you wanted to look nice, and nothing at all to do with Steve and Eddie. You totally weren’t trying to get their attention with your low cut top and vanilla perfume.
At least, that’s what you were telling yourself.
“N-no one,” you squeak out between thrusts. Eddie huffs out a laugh, his forehead resting against your shoulder for a brief moment before pulling away from you. His hands hold you up by the hips, keeping you in place as he plows into you.
“No one, huh? You’re just dressed up for anyone and everyone to look at you? Hoping you might catch someone’s attention out here?”
“Maybe,” you say. It was meant to be teasing. You weren’t really sure why he was so concerned about people looking at you to begin with.
But Eddie didn’t like that answer.
“Sounds like I need to remind you who you belong to,” Eddie says with a low growl. And when you thought his pace couldn’t get any more relentless, he started to fuck into you with purpose, barely pulling out before pushing back in. He angles himself to hit that spot inside of you again, sending you hurtling towards another orgasm at lightening speed.
“Fuck, Eddie!”
“That’s right, say my name, sweetheart.”
You chant his name like a prayer until he answers. Your orgasm hit’s you like truck, leaving you speechless as you cum harder than you ever have outside of your heat. Eddie follows right after you, pushing himself flush as he cums deep inside of you, filling you with his hot seed.
“Goooooooood damn,” he groans, keeling over you with full body shutters. More grunts and moans pour from him as he stills, giving you the chance to start to come down as the overstimulation stops.
Just as you feel your post orgasm clarity kick in, you notice a familiar swelling feeling starting to grow inside of you.
“Woah, woah, hold on!” You straighten yourself, pulling away from Eddie as quickly as you can before his knot fully locks inside of you. Turning around, you watch as the base of his cock swells into a ring of muscle around his shaft.
“Ahhhhh, shit,” Eddie says, grabbing his knot and shaft with his hands, taking his bottom lip between his teeth with a pained expression.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you say with genuine concern. You’ve heard about how sensitive a knotted alpha’s cock can be when an omega’s body can’t keep it covered. Apparently any little bit of friction is torture, like sandpaper to an exposed nerve.
“Fuck, why did you pull away?”
A sudden thunderous knock has the both of you jumping. The both of you adjust your clothing back to place, Eddie tucking his still hard cock into the waistband of his jeans, before opening the door.
Fully prepared to do a walk of shame past a stranger out of this bar’s men’s bathroom, your blood go cold when you find yourself face to face with Steve. He looks straight at you, an anger in his eyes that you’d never seen before.
“Oh, hey, babe,” Eddie stutters out, clearly more worried about his own problem rather than being caught by his husband fucking another person in a bathroom. Steve doesn’t even look up at Eddie, his beautiful Hazel eyes locked on you.
“Both of you, go get in the car,” Steve finally says after what feels like an eternity. “We’re leaving.”
“Okay,” Eddie nods. He walks up behind you, grabbing onto your shoulders to walk you forward, when Steve grabs his hands and pushed them off of you. Eddie’s caught of guard by Steve’s actions, pure shock all over his face.
“What’s you’re problem?” He questions his husband. Steve wordlessly grabs you, pulling you out of Eddie’s way until you’re fully by his side.
“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Steve grits through his teeth. Eddie looks at Steve, the tension between them thick enough that you could cut it with a butter knife.
“Fine,” Eddie finally says, storming off and leaving you with Steve.
“Are you okay?” Steve’s voice was softer now. You dared to look up at him, his brows pinched with worry as he seemed to be looking you over.
“Y-yeah, I’m fine Steve.”
“Did he cum inside you?”
The question has you reeling back. You didn’t know what to say. Obviously he knew the two of you fucked, but the queston didn’t seem to come from a place of anger. Rather, he seemed to be genuinely concerned if Eddie had finished inside of you.
“Y-yes?” You shift in place, as if acknowledging it suddenly made you hyper aware of the sticky feeling between your legs.
Steve sighed, his hands running through his hair in frustration.
“I’m sorry. He gets handsy when he’s drunk. I don’t know why he didn’t just come to me.” Steve moves closer to you, his arms positioned as if he was going to wrap them around you. But, he suddenly backs away with an almost anguished look.
“Steve, I’m so-”
“No,” he cuts you off. “Don’t apologize, this isn’t your fault.”
You’re honestly not really sure what Steve is upset about at this point. Maybe there was something that him and Eddie discussed outside of your arrangement that you didn’t know about? It was probably too much to bring up tonight, but you would definitely need to sit down and talk with them about boundaries first thing tomorrow.
The drive home was anything but quiet. You were almost afraid to get in the car since Steve had been drinking, too, but he assured you he wouldn’t put you or Eddie in danger if he felt he couldn’t drive. Steve drove home white knuckling the steering wheel as Eddie lets out little whimpers and moans from his seat.
You thought his knot would have gone down by now, but his inebriated state and the pressure of the seatbelt across his lap was making him miserable. You felt awful for having to leave him in that state, watching him subtly buck against the strap to feel any sort of friction. But the idea of being locked to him when Steve found the two of you was like a scenario from your nightmares after how upset he was earlier.
When Steve pulled into the driveway, Eddie sighed in relief, unbuckling his seatbelt with lightening speed and hopping out of the car as soon as it stopped moving. Just as Eddie was about to open the front door, Steve stepped out of the car and called for him to wait. Eddie looked back with distress, waiting and watching as Steve rounded the car to let you out.
“I want the both of you upstairs as soon as we get inside, waiting for me on the bed, without touching each other until I get there. Do you both understand?”
Steve’s scent penetrates your nose, putting you in a submissive haze that has you nodding without question. You walk to the door, Eddie’s eyes on you as you push past him into the house and up the stairs.
You sat quietly on the edge of Eddie and Steve’s bed. After a few minutes Eddie pushes through the bedroom door, a prominent wet spot visible on his tee shirt where his precum had been dribbling out from the constant stimulation. He didn’t say anything to you, instead he sat next to you on the bed, just far enough away that you wouldn’t be touching each other. A whimper escapes his lips when his jeans drag down his still hard cock, the outline of it visible as it presses against his shirt.
“Did I get you in trouble?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. You keep your eyes on the carpet between your feet, not having the courage to look at Eddie in the face.
Eddie huffs out a choked laugh, his curls bouncing in your peripherals.
“I got myself in trouble,” Eddie’s voice has a sultry lit to it, “But…the punishments are always worth it.”
Before you could really process what his words might mean, Steve pushes open the bedroom door, causing you to jump where you sat. The look on his face was unreadable, which made you feel more uneasy than if he was wearing his anger in his features.
You take the opportunity to look up at Eddie. His eyes were locked on Steve, a shit eating grin on his face as he looks his upset husband up and down. When you follow his line of sight, you see Steve’s cock is straining in his jeans.
“Undress. Now.” Steve commands, looking at you as if to see how you’d react. Eddie begins to pull his shirt over his head, putting his tattooed skin on display for you and Steve to admire.
When you realize that you’re not about to get a lecture, you waste no time in joining Eddie. You strip your clothes piece by piece, trying to keep up with how quickly Eddie is discarding his own. Once you’re down to your panties, Steve stops you before you can yank them down.
“Slowly,” he demands. His features hard as his eyes watch the way you slide your lacy panties down your thighs at a leisurely pace. You advert your gaze from his, focusing on removing your last article of clothing in a way that pleases Steve.
As you pull the material down, you watch as a string of Eddie cum stretches, stuck on the crotch of your panties from where it had leaked out of you. It finally breaks as the panties reach your knees, the sticky spend clinging to the side of your leg.
Eddie curses under his breath, his vocalization snapping Steve out of whatever trance he was in.
“Clean it up.”
Eddie looks up at Steve confused. Steve repeats himself, a thick finger pointing to your leg where the cum was sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You look back and forth between them, unsure of what you should be doing.
When Eddie doesn’t move, Steve sighs, and grabs his hand, leading him over to you. He instructs Eddie to get on his knees, which he does without question, his big, brown eyes on Steve as he waits for further instruction.
“Ugh, do I have to walk you through it?” Steve asks with annoyance. But he doesn’t give Eddie the chance to answer before he’s grabbing the back of his head and guiding it between your legs.
“You made this mess Eddie. Clean. It. Up.”
Eddie’s tongue making contact with your skin startled you, making you instinctively jerk back. The bed behind you keeps you from moving very far, Eddie’s tongue chasing you as you move. You watch in awe as Eddie laps up his own cum from your skin, his blown out pupils looking up at you as moving higher and higher up your leg.
Just as Eddie’s about to reach the apex between your legs, Steve pulls him back by his hair. Eddie’s eyes roll back as he lets out a low grown from the force. He smiles up at Steve, whose expression is back to being stony and unreadable.
Steve says your name, making you stiffen at the sudden attention.
“I want you on your back, head down here,” he says, pointing to the foot of the bed. You wait for a moment for any further instruction, but Steve only punctuates his demand with a sharp, “Now.”
You do as instructed, your head at the foot of the bed and your feet almost to their pillows. Steve tuts, motioning you to move further down the bed until your head is hanging off the edge slightly. After he hums in approval, he directs his attention back to Eddie, whose cock jumps in excitement when his husband looks down at him.
“Don’t get too excited,” Steve says, tugging at Eddie’s hair again.
“Kinda hard not to when you do that, big boy,” Eddie breathes out, his toothy smile on display. Steve sucks in a sharp breath before letting go of his grip on Eddie’s hair. He points towards the head of the bed where your feet lay.
“I want you to get yourself nice and comfortable between her legs,” Steve nods towards you, “because I want you to use your tongue to get every last drop of your cum out of her pussy.” Eddie’s eyes light up, but Steve continues on. “Ah, ah, let me finish. This isn’t a reward. I don’t want you to touch her with anything other than your mouth. No. Hands. And you’re not going to touch yourself either. Do you understand?”
If Steve’s stipulations were meant to upset Eddie, he surely didn’t succeed as Eddie still nodded with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. When Steve gave him the go ahead, Eddie sprang up from where he was on the floor and up onto the bed. The mattress dipped and shook as he crawled over your body, using his hands to part your legs so he could make himself comfortable there. You let out a giggle at his animated movements, his hands rubbing together before settling his face an inch away from your pussy.
“I do want to apologize in advance,” he says, looking as if he’s talking to your pussy instead of you. “I’m a big fan. Never been so close to one of you in person before, though. But I’ll do my best.”
You gasp as Eddie presses his face into your heat, his tongue darting out to lap between your folds. He’s sloppy with his movements as his tongue explores every inch of your pussy. When he gets to you clit, your body jumps from the sensation and you see his eyes light up at your reaction. He repeats his movement again and again, giving you pressing kitten licks that send jolts throughout your body with each one.
A hand lands on your cheek, wrapping around your chin until it has your lips puckering in its grip. Steve tilts your head back to look at him, but all you see is his thick cock hovering over your face, blocking Steve from your view.
“Open up, sweet girl,” Steve coos at you, his thumb tapping against your cheek. You open your mouth without protest. “Mmm, such a good girl,” he says, grabbing his cock and tapping the head on your tongue. His precum lands on your tongue and you moan at the taste.
Eddie’s tongue suddenly breaches your hole, the muscle digging deep inside of you as he laps away at the cum he left inside of you at the bar. Steve takes advantage of your gasp, pushing himself inside of your wet mouth, just enough to not trigger any gag reflex you might have.
Between Eddie’s tongue and Steve’s cock, you feel borderline dizzy at the push and pull sensation of being between them. Steve’s large, alpha cock stretches your mouth to its limits while Eddie’s inexperienced tongue works over you, testing to see what makes you tick until he’s got you bucking against his face.
When Eddie gets his tongue as deep as he can possibly reach it, his nose presses into your clit roughly, moving in a way that has you suddenly seeing stars. Your thighs clamp around him, locking his head in place as you soak him with your slick. Steve lets out a groan as you moan around his cock, his hand suddenly on your throat as he stills himself.
You brace yourself the best you can to take his cum, but he pulls out of you completely instead.
“Fuck, move!” He shouts, motioning for Eddie to leave his spot between your legs. Eddie pries himself from your thighs and scrambles to get out of Steve’s way.
“C-can I--” Eddie stutters in a pussy drunk state, grabbing his cock in his hands and pumping the almost purple tip slowly.
“Do whatever you want,” Steve says between gritted teeth, positioning himself on his knees before guiding his cock towards your entrance. Eddie rounds the bed, taking over where Steve left, positioning himself over your. You open your mouth for him and he chuckles, pushing his cock past your lips as far as you’ll let him go. He whines again, beginning to fuck your mouth while his knot presses into your nose with every other thrust. You can’t quite take the whole thing, so you wrap a hand around it for extra stimulation.
At the same time, the head of Steve’s cock pushes inside of you, slipping in without much resistance after all of Eddie’s efforts to work you open tonight. He slides himself inside of you until he’s fully inside before he begins to rock into you with sharp thrusts.
When you gag hard after a particularly hard thrust from Steve, Eddie stops his movements and lets the momentum of your body do all the work. You feel Eddie lean forward over you. From the angle you’re in, all you can see is Eddie’s balls swinging in front of your face, but you can hear the smacking sounds of Steve and Eddie kissing over your body as they fuck you. It hits you hard how you’re being used as nothing more than a toy for their pleasure, the realization sending you full throttle towards another orgasm.
“Shit,” you hear Steve hiss. And not even a moment later, you feel him push his cock as far inside of you as possible, his hot spend filling up your spasming walls as you continue to cum hard on his cock.
“Oh my god--” Eddie huffs, trying to pull his cock from your mouth. But you keep a firm grip, letting his seed hit your tongue and roll down your throat, swallowing over and over with every spurt.
After a synchronous moment of ecstasy, clarity begins to seep into each of you. Steve pulls out of you with a gasp, grabbing you by the legs and pulling you down until your head is back onto the bed, effectively pulling Eddie mostly out of your mouth. Eddie stumbles back the rest of the way, crouching down until he’s back on his knees, his head landing next to yours on the bed.
Steve leans over your, cupping your face in his hands and bringing your attention to him.
“Are you okay?” His concern is apparent in his pinched brows and shifting eyes. You smile up at him, leaning into his large palms and kissing a freckle there. He lets out a sigh of relief, pulling away from you to sit back on his haunches.
Eddie shifts next to you, his tattooed arms folding around your neck as he presses his cheek into yours.
“Did so good for us, sweetheart,” he coos in your ear, his lips pressing into your temple. You turn to face him, and he kisses you again, his lips pressing into yours softly. You can’t help but smile with how sweet it is.
But the kiss is broken as your suddenly pulled forward. Steve pulls your body into him, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He’s glaring down at Eddie, whose only response is a knowing look and a raised eyebrow.
“Do you not want Eddie to kiss me?” Your voice pulls Steve’s attention. He hates how you’re looking at him, wide glassy eyes full of unwarranted concern.
“It--it’s not that,” Steve says, “it’s just…”
“Steve wants to kiss you too, but he thinks you don’t want to.”
“Eddie--” Steve shouts, scoffing at his husband.
“Steve, you can kiss me.” Steve tenses, his grip on you tightening. “I think it would be silly to say you can’t kiss me after letting you guys put your dicks in my mouth.”
Eddie barks out a laugh. He climbs up on the bed and positions himself behind you, wrapping an arm around you and pressing another kiss to your cheek.
“Come on, Stevie. How can you say no to this face?”
Steve’s eyes dart between yours and Eddie’s, the gears turning in his head to the point you were waiting to see steam come from his ears. He sucks in a breath and you’re certain that he’s going to say no.
But, he brings a hand to your face, holding it in place as his lips meet yours. They’re soft, quite the contrast to Eddie’s rough, winter chapped lips. The fireworks feeling goes off in your mind again. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol with Eddie, but you’re too sober now to convince yourself.
Steve deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that has your stomach flipping. You couldn’t help but keep comparing it to Eddie’s. Where Eddie’s kiss was one of desire, Steve’s feels greedy. The way he hold your head in place, it feels like he wants to consume you.
“Okay, okay,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around you in an attempt to separate you and Steve. “I’m gonna get hard again watching the two of you make out like that. So either we get ready for bed or I’m dinging the bell for round two.”
A second round didn’t sound too bad in theory, but the way your body felt like a bag of sand as soon as Eddie mentioned getting ready for bed had you voluntarily slinking off of their bed and onto shaky legs. Steve and Eddie stayed close behind, the three of you squeezing into their walk in shower and taking turns grooming each other.
The days following up to the start of your heat were…mostly normal. Steve was busier with work as he tried to get everything in order before taking another week off. He spent a lot of time in his office, only coming out to get his plate and take it back behind the closed door. Though, he did add you to his pecking order, mindlessly kissing your temple and then Eddie’s as he read over reports or whatever kept him preoccupied.
But where Steve was absent, Eddie was the opposite. Spending most of his free time with you while his husband was busy, Eddie followed you like a lost puppy. You kept him busy, though, having him help you prep for the three of you to all be cycling together. He helped you prep meals that would be easy to reheat, clean the house, and safety proof their bedroom, along with various other tasks that you could think of.
The day before your heat came, your body let you know by making you insatiably hungry and extremely exhausted. Steve and Eddie took their inducers when they noticed the changes, getting you settled for the day before the two of them would inevitably pass out as the drugs took effect, the tell tale sign of an alpha going into rut being their extended sleep period the hours leading up to the cycle.
As your body slowly started to slip into your heat, you felt yourself wanting to slip into Steve and Eddie’s room more and more. But as long as you still had some sense, you told yourself that you’d be spending the next week with them in their most feral state and to just enjoy the little time to yourself that you had.
But as you lay in your bed trying to sleep, all you could think about was what the outcome of this week was going to be. It would take a miracle for you to not get pregnant by one of them by the end of it all. You’d be lying if it didn’t scare you a little bit. After all of the things you’ve read in the pregnancy books Steve’s gotten for you, there’s no way that you wouldn’t be at least a little on edge.
The end is what was starting to scare you the most. Specifically how you would feel after the baby is born. Robin’s words from the other day playing back over and over in your head.
Even with the naturally nurturing disposition of your second gender, you hadn’t really considered yourself someone who wanted to be a mother. That was partly why you thought you’d be a good match for this gig. But you’d read that even betas go through hormonal changes that omegas go through when they become pregnant and give birth that bonds you with your baby.
You’d thought about bringing these concerns up with Steve and Eddie, but you decided that you didn’t want to stress them out. There was a contract saying you wouldn’t have any parental rights anyway, so it’s not like you had much choice on the matter at this point.
The sound of slamming and clanking woke you up from your sleep. Your body was hot, your tongue stuck to the roof of your very dry mouth. Your mind was in a haze, the smell of alpha pheromones in the air was so thick that it was becoming impossible to think of anything beyond your primal instincts.
Rolling out of bed, you follow the sounds down the stairs and into the kitchen. The mixed pheromones were so strong that you were gushing slick before you could even see the two of them.
The kitchen was a mess. Licked clean plates scattered all about the counter tops. You had a thought coming to your mind about hoping you prepped enough food, but it was quickly forgotten when you were suddenly pushed back against the wall behind you.
The room spun with how fast you were moved. The sudden close proximity with your alphas had your knees buckling under you. Strong arms hold you up as got tongues lap at your skin. There’s a bit of growling between them, but your needy whines keep refocusing them on you.
Opening your eyes after a moment, you look at the two men before you. Goosebumps trail over your skin as you take in their feral forms. Everything about them is enhanced; they’re taller, bigger, having to hunch down for their mouths to connect with your skin.
With almost empty looks in their eyes besides their almost completely blown out pupils, they remain locked on you as if you’d disappear if they looked away for even a moment. They man handled your clothes off you right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving you fully exposed to them in a matter of seconds.
Without warning your being lifted off the ground and whisked away, back up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Your body lands softly on the bed, with Steve joining you first. His hot skin burned into you as your chests collide, the weight of his body pinning you down. Eddie took the opportunity to fully undress while you and Steve distracted each other.
With all the heat and movement, you felt your slick starting to leak from between your legs. As soon as the first drop hit the bedsheets between you, Eddie and Steve stilled in their tracks. You felt a pang of fear as the air became thick with mixed alpha scents.
Eddie lunged towards you, but Steve was on the defense, covering you with his body as Eddie got closer. The bed shook as Eddie tried to pry Steve away from you. It got worse when Steve let go of you, and the two started going at it, wrestling each other on the bed next to you. You panicked, cloudy head unsure of what to do in the moment.
After a beat, your instincts kicked in. Climbing on all fours, you began calling out to them. Your mewling got their attention off of each other long enough for them to see you presenting yourself to them.
They pushed at each other as the crawled closer to you, a hand from each landing on either side of you as if they were making sure you would stay in place. You didn’t have much time to brace yourself as their tongues began to open you up, the two of them lapping at the slick just as soon as it was leaving your hole. And when it wasn’t enough, their tongues breach your entrance at the same time, fighting each other for who would get to go in deeper.
“Fuck,” you hear Eddie huff, and the bed starts to shift around behind you. Steve’s large hands take over, grabbing at your ass and spreading you apart more for him. His thick tongue is able to fully extend inside of you, darting in and out as he attempts to lick you clean. It feels insane, especially as his scruffy chin presses into your clit.
Suddenly, your first orgasm hits you like a brick wall, coating Steve’s face as he drank you up. It didn’t last long, however, because Steve’s face was quickly pulled away from you, most likely by Eddie by the sound of Steve’s reaction.
As quick as Steve’s face was pulled away though, the tip of Eddie’s cock was being pressed against you. Wasting no time, he slid in with ease, giving you no time to adjust before bottoming out. You gasped at how full you felt with the way the head of his cock was pressing into your cervix with how big he had gotten. All the ache you felt from your heat was washed away with the feeling of your alpha’s cock inside of you.
Eddie leaned forward, pressing all his weight into you. You thought he was going to get right to pounding into you, but instead he started moved with a hard hitting grinding motion. As if every thrust was purposeful, punctuated.
His arms were wrapped around you as he fucked you, keeping you under him in a primal way. Humping away, his movements eventually became more rapid and sloppy. It was truly animalistic. His grunting and snarling against your skin reminded you of a feral dog growling at someone trying to take his food.
When you felt something else prodding at your entrance you understood his reaction. You turned your head to get a better look and out of your peripherals you could see Steve from behind Eddie. Eddie started to slow, but it felt forced given the way he was whining in your ear.
When Eddie pulled all the way out of you, leaving just the tip at your entrance, you felt Steve’s tip position itself just underneath Eddie’s. A gush of slick spilled from you at the anticipation. You were happy with just one of your alpha’s cocks in you, but getting to feel them both again had you calling out for them.
The two of them started pushing into you, stretching you open like nothing you’ve ever felt before as their large cocks made home inside of your generous pussy. The feeling of being so full had your eyes rolling back, and you came instantly as the both of them bottomed out.
Eddie’s body shuddered against you, and Steve’s low groan let you know that they two of them were enjoying this just as much as you. Eddie began moving again, not liking that he had been made to stop in the first place. Steve followed after, moving in tandem with Eddie so that you were constantly being filled by at least one of their cocks at all times.
With every passing thrust you felt your brain become more and more like goo. You could only think of two words over and over in your head. Two words that fully expressed how you were feeling.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
You repeated the sentiment over and over, slightly muffled by the bedsheets your face was being pressed against. And you truly were thankful. You’d never felt so loved and cared for in your entire life that you felt being so connected with your two alphas in this moment.
Steve started to pick up his pace, and the stimulation had you cumming again. “Holy fuck, that’s tight,” Eddie grits between his teeth, mouth pressed against the back of your neck.
Everything became way too much very quickly. The constant state of pleasure had you cumming back to back without much of a break in between. At some point, you must have passed out because you woke up to the sound of arguing at the foot of the bed.
Opening your eyes, you see Steve has Eddie pinned down on the bed, their cocks brushing against each other as Steve straddles Eddie to keep him down. Eddie had his muzzle on, and it makes you wonder what happened while you were passed out.
“Wh-whats going on?” You manage to get out, shifting to move towards them.
They stop their fighting, looking at you with wide eyes.
“Are you okay?” Steve asks, breath picking up suddenly.
“Yeah,” you say with a nod, kneeling next to the two of them. The closer you get, the emptier you feel without the two of them inside you. “Miss my alphas.”
“Neither of you came,” you say, noticing the lack of cum inside you.
“You passed out,” Steve says, giving Eddie a pointed look. When you look at Eddie, you see that he’s actively fighting against Steve’s hold on him. He looked almost crazed, eyes locked on you. Dominant alphas are usually able to control themselves better during their ruts, but regressive alphas can be a little harder to handle, especially around an omega in heat.
“It’s okay, Steve,” you reassure. “I always want to help my alphas.”
You place a hand on Steve’s where he’s holding down Eddie’s arm.
“I don’t know,” Steve says wearily. “I think we need to reconsider--”
“Steve.” You say his name firmly. Hazel eyes shift has he looks between yours. With a heavy sigh his grip begins to relax against Eddie’s.
And no sooner does Eddie use all of his strength to send Steve flying half way across the room.
Moving with a lightening speed, Eddie is on top of you in a flash. It’s almost frightening, but you can’t contain your excited giggles as Eddie sloppily attempts to mount you again. You hold his face in your hands, and he stops in place, wide brown eyes looking at you as if waiting for your next command.
“Let Steve up here, first, okay?” You ask him. He nods, his hungry eyes not moving from yours, even as you peck his lips.
Patting the bed, you motion for Steve to rejoin you. The bed dips, shaking as Steve makes his way to the two of you.
“Let me get behind you,” he says, placing a hand on your back to push you forward. Eddie moves with you, maintaining eye contact even as Steve maneuvers his way behind you. Only when you position yourself to sit on Steve’s cock does Eddie have a reaction, a low growl coming from his throat. You shush him, stroking his cheek soothingly.
“It’s okay, Eddie,” you coo, his name coming out as a moan as you lower yourself onto Steve’s hard cock. The feeling has your eyes rolling back again, making you lose the eye contact with Eddie.
In an instant, he’s pushing you back until your laying against Steve’s chest.
“Eddie, take it easy,” Steve hisses, trying to shift his position for Eddie to have better access to your pussy as well. His hand snakes around you and grabs onto Eddie’s cock making him gasp. He begins to thrust into Steve’s palm, moaning and huffing at the feeling of friction.
Steve probably would have been content letting Eddie get off like this, but you were being just as whiny watching them. So Steve pulled out just enough and guided Eddie to your pussy once again. It took a couple tries, but he was able to get him in, and Eddie immediately began fucking into you with wreckless abandon.
The movement got Steve worked up pretty quickly, following with Eddie’s pace to fuck into you again. Eddie hovered above you, practically drooling in his muzzle as his body moved on its own in and out of you. It turned you on to no end to see him so fucked out over you in this state.
After a few moments, Eddie’s hand flew up above your head. His body stilled, cock twitching inside of you as you felt him about to cum. Steve was right behind him, both of their cocks deep inside of you as they began to cum. Warmth filled you, and at the same time their knots began to swell, effectively plugging you to take their seed.
It felt like an eternity before they both stopped cumming, Eddie landing on top of you still trembling in the aftershocks. Steve was breathing heavily beneath you, arms wrapped around you tight as he finally started to calm down, too.
The three of you lay like that for a minute, before Steve makes the decision to shift the three of you on your sides.
“Ow,” Eddie says, sounding more lucid than he has since you woke up.
“Sorry, I couldn’t breath with the both of you on top of me.”
The position was awkward, but more so for the two boys than you. You think their discomfort led to their knots going down at a quicker pace, because as soon as they could they were separated from you. Eddie was out like a light, snoozing as soon as his head his the pillows.
Steve still held you tight, breathing in your scent. His lips touched the base of your neck, leaving a small kiss there.
“Does it hurt?” He asks.
“Does what hurt?” You ask, unsure of what he’s referring to.
“Your neck, here.” He touches where his lips were.
“No? Should it?”
Steve is quiet for a moment.
“Do…you not feel any different…?”
“Not any different than I do during my heats,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this line of questioning.
Silence again. Steve says your name.
“Eddie…Eddie marked you. Or, he tried to…”
Your blood ran cold. When did he do that? It had to have been when you passed out. You’d definitely remember something like that happening.
“Steve--I--”
“It’s okay,” he shushes you. “I…I don’t think it worked…” Steve lets out a sigh. “I don’t think he could mark you now anyway…”
“What do you mean?” You turn to look at Steve, a look of forlorn all over his face.
“Lets not talk about it right now.” His words become breathy, and you can feel him rubbing his scent on your skin. His hips move against you, and you can feel his hardness against you.
After a few touches and some maneuvering Steve is back inside you once again. You’re trying not to be so loud that you wake Eddie, but Steve’s cock feels so good inside you. He’s working at an angle that has you gripping the sheets with white knuckles.
When he brings his big hands around you to rub at your bud you can’t stop yourself from crying out his name.
“That’s right, baby girl,” he huffs, still moving inside you. His grip around your chest gets tighter, pulling your back against his chest even more. “Tell me who’s fucking you right now. Who is it, baby?”
“You, Steve,” you moan. His demanding tone has you clenching around him even harder. It felt so right to be with him like this, but part of you was missing Eddie, too. It was tempting to wake him up to get him going again. But, you wanted to have your special time with Steve while you could.
“Such a good omega for me, aren’t you?” His words are slurred drunk on the feeling of your pussy hugging his cock so tight. “You’re going to be so perfect with my baby inside you.”
His words continue to make you dizzy. That’s all you want, isn’t it? To get pregnant with Steve and Eddie’s babies and live happily ever after with them. You want to be a good omega wife for them, you’d make them so happy wouldn’t you.
Steve’s movements become sloppy until he’s plunging himself as deep inside of you as he can go. His knot swells again as he fills you up for a second time; the second of countless more times you hope.
You remember that you’ll be spending the next 5-7 days being passed back and fourth between your two alphas and it makes you so happy you can’t help but tear up.
“Hey, whats wrong?” Steve says, snapping out of his trance as soon as he hears your sniffles.
“Nothing’s wrong, Stevie.” You chuckle, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I’m just…really happy to be here is all.”
Steve melts at your words, burying himself in the crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, his hot breath fanning your skin as he presses kisses against it.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Steve whispers just loud enough for you to hear. “He is, too,” he says, nodding towards Eddie’s still sleeping form. “He talks about you all the time. But I’m sure he’d say the same thing about me.”
“You guys talk about me that much?”
“Hmmm, probably more than two married men should.”
Your heart skips a beat. The heat of everything was lowering yours and Steve’s inhibitions. Would he ever tell you this if the two of you weren’t intoxicated on your own hormones?
There’s a comforting silence between the two of you. Eventually you drifted off to sleep again in Steve’s arms, his body heat keeping you warm while you slept.
You’re not sure what time it was when you felt your body being moved. You were being carried bridal style, and by scent alone you were able to tell it was Eddie. The soft click of a door closing had you opening your eyes, eyes adjusting to the low light from the sunsetting outside coming from the windows in the hall.
When you looked up at Eddie, he had taken his muzzle off, but still had a feral look in his eyes. Eyes that were darting around as he took you down the hall and into his music room.
You’d never been in it before. Not that you’d been explicitly told not to, but because Eddie told you that he liked to tend to it himself, so you chose not to enter out of respect. So when you found yourself inside, you couldn’t help but let yourself explore the room.
It was definitely very Eddie; walls painted red, band posters covering the wall, as well as a few frames with records in them. There was quite a collection of guitars and speakers that took up the rest of the wall space.
Besides a desk with a computer, there was a small couch that also furnished the room. Eddie made a bee line for it once he closed the door behind him. He placed you down delicately and lowered himself to his knees. His eyes were locked between your legs, tongue darting out to lick at his lips as if he was a starved animal and you were his next meal.
“Eddie,” you say in a breathy tone. His eyes dart up, looking at you expectantly. “What do you want, Eddie?”
“You. I want you.” His hands land on your knees, rubbing up and down your thighs sensually. The roughness of his fingers gives you goosebumps down your legs.
“Please,” he begs, eyes flickering back and forth between yours and between your legs. Your breath hitches and you nod, slowly parting your legs for him.
As soon as you’ve made yourself open for him, Eddie dives right in, feverishly devouring your sore, puffy pussy. You’re so sensitive already, but Eddie takes your gasps and moans as a good sign and keeps going.
Eddie’s large, tattooed arms wrap around your legs and pull you closer to the edge of the couch as you begin to shake. His mouth is attached to your pussy, drinking you up as you cum hard. Eddie makes an almost pained noise, his own body shaking against the couch after a few moments.
You look down, and the combination of how he looks with the sudden strong alpha smell in the room tells you that he just came. It only turned you on more when you realized it had to have been untouched, given his arms had been snug around your thighs this whole time.
“Awe, Eddie,” you coo, “Did you cum from eating me out?”
Eddie looks up at you pitifully, nodding with shame.
“I-I’m sorry,” he pouts, as if you’re going to scold him.
“It’s okay, Eddie.” You cup his face in your hands. “You just really like eating pussy, and that’s okay.”
“Your pussy,” he corrects. “Yours. It’s the only one I’ve ever had.”
That fact heats up your body head to toe. You’ve been Eddie’s first everything when it came to him being with an omega. It made you feel so special to be able to give him something he’s never had before.
You shove Eddie down onto the plush carpet of the room, his eyes going wide as you climb on top of him. His leaky, still hard cock jumps in your hand as you pump it a few times. Eddie’s big eyes watch as you line him up with you, only for his head to fly back as you sink down onto his length.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, hands running over his face as you being to move, bouncing and grinding on his cock.
“Wanna be good for you, Alpha.” The words come out broken as you bounce up and down, hands digging into his tattooed chest when you start to pick up the pace.
Eddie’s hands fly to your hips, and you think he’s going to stop you. Instead, he uses all his alpha strength to hold you up, adjusting his footing so he can drill upwards into you. It just about takes your breath away, your brain turning to mush as he fucks into you wildly.
He starts to say something under his breath that your brain can’t comprehend. It takes a few moments for you to get yourself together enough to register whatever prayer he’s repeating over and over.
“Get pregnant, get pregnant, get pregnant--”
His words send you over the edge, making you cum hard enough on his cock that your vision turns white, your body going limp in his grasp. He takes advantage of your pliant status, letting your upper half rest on his chest as he wraps his arms around you.
A few more wild thrusts later and Eddie is almost howling as he starts to cum inside you. His knot swells faster than ever to lock you in place on him. His hips move weakly, still chasing the high until he finally stills, letting your weight rest fully on top of him.
The timer goes off in the kitchen downstairs, pulling you from your solo concert of Queen’s greatest hits that you had playing from one of Eddie’s speakers. You set the scrub brush you were using to clean the carpets down before running down the stairs to check on dinner.
The house had been cycle free for a full 24 hours, so Steve and Eddie had gone back to work this morning. With an empty house, you had taken the opportunity to do a deep clean of every square inch of the house. You tried not to think about how you’d spent the last 6 days being fucked on every imaginable surface in this house as you swept, scrubbed, and rinsed everything in sight.
It also gave you a lot of time to think. To over analyze small thing Eddie or Steve said about you during your cycles that felt like there might be feelings budding between the three of you.
Part of you wishes that it could be true, that there might be something growing of you within their hearts.
But it also scares the shit out of you.
There’s no way you were about to be a homewrecker. The last thing you wanted was to think that there was a mutual bond with you and the boys, only to find out that it’s one sided. Or that only one of them feels something for you, leaving the other to feel betrayed and hate you. And it would kill you if either one of them hated you.
You shook your head in an attempt to rid you of your thoughts. The only reason this was happening was because of a contract. If you hadn’t answered that newspaper ad, you wouldn’t even be thinking these delusional thoughts. You’d probably be heading back home with your tail between your legs, begging your parents to let you move back in with them.
There was no way that was going to happen. You just needed to get pregnant and you’d be set for a little while longer.
The sound of the front door opening grabbed your attention. You set the casserole on the stove top and smoothed out our apron, waiting for Eddie to make his entrance.
“Hey there, sweet thang,” he greeted, hanging his keys on their hook and pulling his hair out of it’s ponytail. He still had a dark smudge on his cheek that he didn’t fully clean off before he left work. And when he took off his jacket his arms were put on full display for your eyes to take in.
Damn, were you feeling some residual from your heat?
“Hi, Eds,” you finally muster to say, turning your attention to pulling the plates out of the cabinet.
“Smells good in here,” Eddie says, grabbing the plates before you could, leaning down to kiss your lips. It lasted for a solid few seconds before he pulled away, carrying the plates to the table.
You stood in shock. That obviously wasn’t your first kiss, but it was the first one that felt so…domestic. The first that wasn’t attached to sex. You knew Eddie had been bold with you, even while Steve was around at times, but he’d never kissed you like that, where you ended up with butterflies in your stomach.
The front door opened again, but you were so engrossed in thought you didn’t really register it.
“Hi babe,” you hear from beside you. Eddie greets Steve at the doorway to the kitchen, barely giving him the chance to set his keys on the hook before kissing him deeply. Deep enough it almost made you dizzy.
Eddie and Steve were so in love it was almost disgusting in a cute way. If anyone deserved to have their own family it was them. Even when they two of them are deep in the trenches of their heat they would still make time for each other (which gave you a nice break from dealing with two alphas in rut).
“Jeez, Eddie, you act like I didn’t just see you this morning,” Steve chuckles, taking his coat off.
“I know,” he says with faux bashfulness. “I just missed my two favorite people a lot today.”
Steve looks at Eddie, then to you. For a moment you thought he was going to give you the normal distant routine and you mentally prepared yourself for it.
But after a blink, he sauntered over to the stove, stopping right in front of you. One hand landed on your hip, the other on your cheek. Your heart began to beat like a drum as he leaned in. And when his lips met yours, it felt like fireworks. Like you’d won some major award.
And then you were being crushed. Eddie’s arms took the two of you into a tight hug, almost lifting you both off of the ground. His laugh echoed the kitchens as Steve ordered him let you both go.
“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he says, pecking the both of you on the side of the head.
“Now, I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m starving.”
I love how Bella uses Edward's vampirism for such mundane things. Yes, he squishes the spiders and she uses his skin as an ice pack, but I bet he also holds her soda bottle to keep it cool. Uses his acute sense of smell to tell her when her cupcakes are done baking. Similarly, he figured out when to pull the leftover lasagna out of the microwave so it's heated all the way through. He can tell her if a pair of jeans will fit her without Bella having to try them on in the store. And they never really talk about it or assign Edward these roles. He just touches the pan to let her know it's hot enough to be nonstick and holds up the couch so she can vacuum under it and tells her when Angela secrets wants to cancel the plans they made that weekend.
They're both so serious and so unserious about Edward's vampirism.
thinking abt how fucking annoying it’d be to have a song stuck in the pack mind. Like ur chewing on a vampire n suddenly theres quil belting hey soul sister
my headcanon: Spence “I don’t have email” Reid would get an email when he realizes he can send you long messages when he’s away about how much he’s missing you, the book he’s reading, what the city he’s in is like etc etc etc
at first, he’s hesitant, muttering that phone calls are fine and he’s not great with technology anyway, but the first time he’s gone for more than a week, he starts to miss you so much it hurts.
he has so many things he wants to tell you: what the city he’s in looks like, the book he was reading, the funny thing rossi said on the jet, how he thought of you when he saw a certain flower blooming on the side walk.
when he gets home from that trip, he asks, if you’ll help him set up an email. you're more than happy to help.
it starts small. his first email is just a shy little “hi. i'm in denver. it’s cold. i miss you.”
but then, as soon as you respond with your sweet words and a silly little story about your day, his emails change.
suddenly, he has to pour every thought that reminds him of you. over time, his emails become long. very long. they're almost essays.
he’ll describe the exact sound of the rain hitting the motel roof and how it reminds him of the first night you fell asleep on his shoulder.
he’ll tell you about the smell of an old library he ducked into between interviews and how he wished you could’ve seen how pretty it was.
you can feel how much he misses you in every line.
“i kept thinking about what you’d say about this.”
“if you were here, you’d probably laugh at me because—”
at some point, spencer gets self-conscious about how long his emails are. he’ll add little disclaimers: “sorry this is so long, i know you’re busy.”
but you never are too busy for him. you always read every word, sometimes twice.
he also starts checking his inbox first thing when he wakes up and last thing before he goes to sleep. he even prints some of your emails and keeps them folded in his bag, worn from rereading.
“And if you have five seconds to spare. Then I'll tell you the story of my life: Sixteen, clumsy and shy…”
back to the old house -
“When you cycled by, here began all my dreams. The saddest thing I've ever seen and you never knew how much I really liked you.Because I never even told you. Oh, and I meant to. Are you still there?”
well i wonder -
“Gasping but somehow still alive. This is the fierce last stand of all I am. Gasping, dying but somehow still alive. This is the final stand of all I am.”
nowhere fast -
“And when I’m lying in my bed, I think about life and I think about death and neither one particularly appeals to me”
unloveable -
“If I seem a little strange. Well, that's because I am. But I know that you would like me if only you could see me. If only you could meet me. I don't have much in my life but take it, it's yours.”
Spencer Reid Aficionado @wordofthewicked - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
