#[Cross the T's and Dot the I's ] /// Replies

[leona-hawthorne]

LEONA-HAWTHORNE’S FICMAS

december 22nd. theodore nott — what’s your type?

theodore nott x fem reader

summary ; theo is smart, but he’s an idiot when it comes to taking hints. sometimes, you have to just give it to him. words ; 2.7k warnings ; smut, unprotected piv, oral m!receiving, google translated italian (sorry in advance)

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Theo had this way of existing—effortless, detached, like gravity bent to his whims. He lounged against the headboard, a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling upward in lazy spirals. You were convinced he didn’t even like smoking; he just enjoyed the ritual, the way it made his hands look purposeful.

The dorm was dim, the only light spilling from the bedside lamps. Everyone else was sprawled across the furniture, engaged in half-hearted conversations about Quidditch or the latest rumors circulating the castle. But your focus was locked on Theo. Always Theo.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, his lips curving into a smirk as he caught your gaze. His voice was low, teasing, pulling at some invisible thread in your chest.

“What look?” you shot back, tilting your head and feigning innocence.

He chuckled, a sound that sent warmth pooling in your stomach. He took a drag of his cigarette and passed it to you without a word. You accepted it, your fingers brushing his. The fleeting contact sent a shiver down your spine, but you masked it with a casual exhale of smoke.

“So, what’s the topic tonight?” you asked, your tone light.

Theo raised an eyebrow. “Define ‘topic.’”

“I mean, what bullshit are we debating? Everyone’s always got something to say about something.”

He glanced around the room, noting the fragmented conversations, before turning back to you. “I think we’re safe to create our own.”

“Fine,” you said, handing the cigarette back to him. “What’s your type?”

Theo blinked, caught off guard. “My type?”

“Yeah. You know, what you look for in someone. Or are you too much of a brooding intellectual to care about such trivial matters?”

His smirk returned, sharper this time. “I’ll have you know I’m very discerning.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But seriously, I want to know.”

He hesitated, the cigarette poised between his lips. “I don’t know. I guess someone who can hold their own. Smart, independent. Doesn’t take my shit.”

You snorted. “So, basically, someone who’s not a doormat.”

“Pretty much,” he admitted, shrugging. “What about you? What’s your type?”

You took a moment, pretending to ponder, even though the answer was sitting right next to you. “I’ve always thought intelligence is sexy. Like, really sexy. Bonus points if they speak another language.”

Theo glanced at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Oh, yeah? What’s so great about that?”

“It’s just impressive,” you said, leaning forward slightly. “Shows effort, you know? And…” You trailed off, letting the tension hang for a beat. “I’ve always been a sucker for blue eyes.”

His expression didn’t shift, but you could see the gears turning in his head. “Interesting.”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, your tone light but your gaze steady. He didn’t look away, and for a moment, you thought he might finally connect the dots. Instead, he leaned back, as if dismissing the comment entirely.

“What about personality?” he asked, like you hadn’t just described him to a T.

You sighed, exasperated. “Theo.”

“What?” he said, his voice full of feigned innocence.

“For fuck’s sake,” you muttered, grabbing his wrist and yanking him to his feet. The room barely registered the two of you leaving; everyone else was too absorbed in their own conversations.

Theo followed you into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you. “Care to explain what’s going on?”

You turned to face him, your back against the door. “You’re supposed to be smart.”

“I am smart,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Then why are you so bloody dense?” you asked, stepping closer. He didn’t move, his eyes fixed on yours, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Am I?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“Oh, you absolutely are,” you said, your hands finding the front of his shirt. “But I think I can help with that.”

The realization finally dawned on him, and his smirk widened. “Well, by all means, love. Enlighten me.”

You didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, you tugged him down by his collar and crashed your lips against his. Theo responded immediately, his hands bracing on your hips as he pressed you back against the door. The kiss was heated, messy, all teeth and desperation. You’d been waiting for this, and judging by the way his grip tightened, so had he.

“You’re insufferable,” you murmured against his lips, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“And yet you’re all over me,” he shot back, his tone smug. Before you could retort, his mouth was on yours again, silencing any comeback you might have had.

Your hands moved to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head. Theo barely gave you a moment to breathe before he was on you again, his lips trailing down your jaw to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You gasped, your head tipping back against the door.

“I think I like it when you’re annoyed,” he murmured, his voice rough.

“Shut up,” you managed, but the words lacked any real venom. Your hands roamed over his chest, mapping out the planes of muscle and the scatter of freckles across his skin. He was impossibly warm, and you couldn’t get enough.

Theo’s hands slipped beneath your shirt, his fingers skimming over your bare skin. You shivered at the contact, your breath hitching as he pulled the fabric up and off. His gaze darkened as he took you in, his lips parting slightly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands settling on your waist. “Così dannatamente carino.” (So fucking pretty.)

Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to feel self-conscious. Theo’s mouth was on you again, his kisses trailing down your neck and across your collarbone. Every touch, every movement felt like fire, and you couldn’t get enough of him.

“Theo,” you breathed, your fingers clutching at his shoulders. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with intent.

Theo didn’t hesitate this time. His lips found yours again, hot and desperate, his hands roaming up your sides and pulling you against him like he needed you closer just to breathe. The counter dug into your back, but you didn’t care, not when his kisses were this consuming, his tongue brushing yours and leaving your head spinning.

But you’d waited long enough for him to figure this out, and patience wasn’t exactly your strong suit. You broke the kiss, your lips brushing his as you whispered, “Why’d it take so long for you to figure this one out, hm?”

His smirk reappeared, lazy and infuriating as his hands settled on your hips. “Maybe I just like taking my time.”

You huffed, turning him around so his back was now pressed against the counter. “Then let me spell it out for you,” you said, your fingers already moving to the buckle of his belt.

Theo’s breath hitched, his smirk faltering as you pulled the leather strap free and let it fall to the floor with a soft clink. Your fingers worked quickly, unfastening the button and zipper of his trousers, and when you pushed them down his hips, the tent in his boxers told you everything you needed to know.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his hands gripping the edge of the counter behind him as he stared down at you. “You’re not messing around, are you?”

“Not in the slightest,” you said, dropping to your knees in front of him.

You tugged his boxers down, and his cock sprang free, hard and flushed and already leaking at the tip. Theo let out a sharp exhale, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the counter harder. You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes as you wrapped a hand around him, giving a slow, deliberate stroke.

“Still confused?” you asked, smirking when his hips twitched at your touch.

“Not even a little,” he said, his voice rough and tight.

You didn’t give him time to say more. Leaning in, you flicked your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum there before taking him into your mouth. The groan that tore from his throat was low and guttural, his head tipping back to rest against the mirror.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his fingers tangling in your hair as you took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You hummed around him in response, the vibrations drawing another string of curses from his lips. Your hand worked the base of his cock in tandem with your mouth, your pace slow at first, teasing, before you gradually increased the intensity. His breathing grew heavier, his hips jerking slightly as you set a rhythm that had him unraveling beneath your touch.

“Shit,” he groaned, his voice breaking on the word. “You—God, you’re so fucking good at this.”

His praise spurred you on, your free hand sliding up his thigh to steady him as you took him deeper. He was losing control, his grip in your hair tightening, his moans turning into something desperate and raw.

“Fuck—” His hips bucked as his head fell forward, and he looked down at you with wide, blown pupils. “I’m—shit, I’m close.”

You didn’t stop. If anything, you doubled down, your tongue tracing the underside of his cock as you took him all the way to the back of your throat. That was all it took. With a sharp cry, his body tensed, and he spilled into your mouth, a broken groan tearing from his lips as he came undone.

You swallowed, pulling back slowly and wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Theo’s chest was heaving, his hair a tousled mess as he leaned heavily against the counter, staring down at you like you’d just knocked the wind out of him.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. “You’re insane.”

You stood, smirking as you leaned in close, your lips brushing his ear. “Took you long enough to figure it out.”

He grabbed your hips in one quick motion, lifting you onto the counter like you weighed nothing. “Oh, I’ve figured it out now,” he murmured, his voice still rough, but his smirk returning full force. “But I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

Theo’s hands gripped your waist as he pulled you flush against him, his mouth crashing into yours. The kiss was frantic, his tongue brushing against yours as he poured every ounce of leftover tension into it. His hands wandered, sliding up your bare back, fingers tracing the curve of your spine before tangling in your hair to tilt your head back.  

“You’re too fucking good at this,” he muttered against your lips, his voice low and thick. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”  

“Maybe,” you teased, your voice breathless as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.  

He chuckled darkly, nipping at the corner of your jaw before trailing kisses down the column of your neck. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”  

“Pretty sure I am,” you quipped, your hands threading through his hair.  

Theo groaned, his lips dragging over your collarbone. His hands skimmed your sides, his thumbs brushing under the waistband of your jeans. “We’ll see how clever you are when you’re begging me to let you cum.”  

Before you could retort, he lifted and spun you around in one swift motion, your palms landing on the counter as he pressed your hips into the sink. You gasped, his chest flush against your back as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear.  

“Guarda te stessa,” he murmured, his tone dripping with sin. (Look at yourself.)  

Your gaze lifted to the mirror, meeting your reflection. Your hair was disheveled, lips swollen from his kisses, chest rising and falling rapidly. Behind you, Theo was watching you with hooded eyes, his hair mussed and his pupils blown with lust.  

“Sei bellissima così,” he said, his hands sliding down to unbutton your jeans. (You’re so beautiful like this.)  

He pushed the denim down your legs, letting it pool at your ankles, and you kicked them off the rest of the way. His hands found your hips again, sliding over the curve of your ass as his lips pressed to your neck.  

“You’re already so worked up,” he murmured, his fingers slipping between your thighs to brush over the damp fabric of your panties. “Fuck, you’re soaking.”  

“Do something about it, then,” you shot back, your voice shaking slightly.  

Theo grinned, his fingers curling into the waistband of your underwear. “Impatient, aren’t we?” He dragged them down slowly, letting them join your jeans on the floor.  

His hand slid between your legs again, this time bare against your skin, and you gasped as he slipped a finger inside you, his touch teasing and deliberate.  

“Così stretto,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear. (So tight.)  

You whimpered, pressing your hips back against him as he added a second finger, curling them just right. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as he worked you open with slow, calculated strokes.  

“Merda, sei perfetta,” he said, his voice rough. (Fuck, you’re perfect.)  

You moaned, your head tipping forward, but he clicked his tongue, his hand moving to your chin to tilt your face back up.  

“Guarda il specchio,” he ordered. “Voglio vederti quando vengo dentro di te.” (Look in the mirror. I want to see you when I come inside you.)  

Sure, you didn’t understand a word of what he was saying, but fuck, you couldn’t get enough of him talking to you like that. You didn’t fight against his hand, meeting his intense gaze in the mirror.  

Theo pulled his fingers away, and you heard the rustle of fabric as he kicked his trousers the rest of the way off. A moment later, his hands were on your hips again, guiding you back against him. You felt the head of his cock brush against your entrance, and he groaned, low and guttural, as he pushed inside.  

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, his grip tightening as he bottomed out. “You feel incredible.”  

Your hands braced against the counter as he began to move, slow and deliberate at first, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that made your knees weak. He muttered something in Italian, his voice low and breathless, but you couldn’t make it out over the sound of your own moans.  

“Che puttana carina,” he said, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he snapped his hips harder. (What a pretty little slut.)  

You gasped, the words only spurring you on as you pushed back against him, meeting each thrust.  

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice rough and teasing. “To be fucked like this?”  

“Yes,” you managed to say, your voice breaking as he hit a spot that had you seeing stars.  

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place. “Take it all, bella. Sei mia.” (You’re mine.)  

His thrusts grew faster, harder, and the bathroom filled with the sound of skin against skin, mingled with your moans and his curses in both English and Italian. You caught snippets of his words—“così stretta”, “troppo perfetta”, “dammi tutto”—and each one sent a new wave of heat coursing through you.  (so tight, too perfect, give me everything)

Your legs trembled as the pressure built, your release teetering just out of reach. Theo seemed to sense it, one hand slipping between your thighs to circle your clit as he drove into you.  

“Come for me,” he murmured, his voice raw. “Let me feel you.”  

His words sent you over the edge, your body shattering around him as a cry tore from your throat. Theo groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you moments later, spilling into you with a shuddering moan.  

For a moment, the only sound was your heavy breathing, the two of you leaning against the counter, spent and satisfied. Theo pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder, his tongue swirling over the skin and his hands roaming over your waist as he caught his breath.  

“You’re my type,” he muttered, his voice still rough but laced with affection.  

You smirked, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Yeah, I fuckin’ better be.”

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

[elikajinnie]

#sendbiceps with hyungline

a/n: i was bored... i dont know xD

Warnings: Suggestive Content? Crack fic, Humor.

(thanks to @aceheexx for helping me with input <3)

Lee Heeseung

You: I feel so bad rn. Send biceps to cheer me up 😩

The three dots appear almost immediately, and you settle into the couch, waiting for his response.

Heeseung: What biceps?

You blink, rereading the text. What biceps? Was he serious right now?

Annoyance bubbles up, and without a second thought, you leave him on read. You toss your phone aside and cross your arms, stewing in the silence. He knows exactly what you mean, but he just has to joke around.

Minutes crawl by, and your phone stays stubbornly silent. Heeseung, apparently, isn’t in a rush to make amends.

Then, just as you’re about to grab your phone and tell him off properly, it buzzes. One notification.

You open it, and there it is. A gym mirror selfie, Heeseung’s arm flexed just enough to emphasize the curve of his bicep. His black shirt’s sleeve is slightly rolled up, and the smirk on his face tells you he knows he looks good.

Your irritation dissolves into something warm. Before you can even think about responding, your fingers are already hitting "Save to Camera Roll."

A second notification pops up.

Heeseung: You better be smiling now

You: I was never mad 😌

Sim Jake

The dull ache in your head has been your unwanted companion for hours now. You’re sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly to distract yourself. But even that’s failing. Feeling both bored and miserable, you shoot Jake a text.

You: I feel so bad rn. Send biceps to cheer me up 🥺

The dots appear almost immediately, and you wait, hoping for a quick pick-me-up. Instead, his response makes your headache throb harder.

Jake: I feel bad too. Send tits?

You stare at your screen, narrowing your eyes as if he can sense your disbelief through the phone. “Seriously?” you mutter to yourself, massaging your temples.

You: Are you kidding me right now? My head hurts, and you’re making it worse

Jake: I’m just saying... fair trade, no?

You contemplate leaving him on read, but he sends another message before you can decide.

Jake: Fine, fine. Ladies first, though

You groan, mostly out of exasperation, but also because your headache refuses to give you a break. Against your better judgment, you snap a quick shot—not anything too revealing, just enough to satisfy his ridiculous request. You send it with an eye-roll emoji for good measure.

Seconds later, his response lands.

Jake: Now that’s what I’m talking about

Before you can scold him, another text comes through:

Jake: Alright, biceps incoming. Don’t say I never did anything for you

And then, right on cue, a photo of his flexed bicep arrives. It’s angled just right, the definition in his arm making you pause despite your lingering annoyance.

Your headache doesn’t magically disappear, but for a brief moment, you forget all about it.

You: You’re insufferable

Jake: And yet, you saved that pic, didn’t you?

Touché.

Park Sunghoon

Work has completely drained you. You’re sprawled on your bed, still in your outdoor clothes, the ache in your legs matching the exhaustion in your mind. With a sigh, you grab your phone and text Sunghoon, hoping for something to brighten your mood.

You: I feel so bad rn. Send biceps 😩

He replies quicker than you expect, but his response isn’t what you were hoping for.

Sunghoon: What? Why?

You blink at the screen, then groan. Of course, he’s going to make you explain.

You: Because I’m exhausted, Sunghoon! Work was a nightmare, my feet hurt, my boss wouldn’t stop hovering, and I haven’t even had dinner yet! Plus, I feel like crying, and seeing your biceps would literally make my day better. Is that too much to ask for?? 😤

The typing dots disappear for a moment, and you wonder if you scared him off with your mini-rant. Then they reappear, and after a pause, your phone buzzes with a notification.

It’s a photo.

You open it, and your breath catches. Sunghoon’s in a tank top, his arm raised as he flexes just enough to show off his toned biceps. His other hand is holding the phone, and his expression is so open and cute, it makes your heart skip a beat.

A squeal escapes you before you can stop it, and you bury your face in your pillow, giggling like a lovestruck teenager. Kicking your feet, you glance at the photo again, unable to stop the wide grin spreading across your face.

Without thinking, you hit "Save to Camera Roll." Then, as you sit there, still staring at the screen, you wipe at the corner of your mouth, realizing you were actually drooling.

You: I love you so much, Sunghoon

Sunghoon: ...So it worked?

You: Of course it did. You’re the best boyfriend ever

Sunghoon: Good. Now go eat dinner before you faint or something

You giggle again, hugging your phone. Drained or not, Sunghoon always knows how to make you feel better.

Park Jongseong

The TV screen blinks off with a frustrated click, the remote abandoned on the couch next to you. You’d spent the past half hour scrolling aimlessly through movies and shows, but nothing seemed remotely interesting. Boredom gnawed at you, and with a groan, you grabbed your phone.

You: I feel bad rn. Send biceps 🥺

The reply came a minute later.

Jay: Why would biceps make you feel better?

You chuckled at the response, already picturing the way he was probably furrowing his brows in confusion.

Jay: If you feel bad, shouldn’t you do something else? Like eat ice cream or take a nap?

Your smile widened as you started typing, determined to wear him down.

You: Nope. Only biceps will cure me. Please, Jay, I’m begging you. Just one🥺🙏

The dots appeared and disappeared, then appeared again, and you could almost see him debating with himself. Finally, your phone buzzed.

It was a photo.

You opened it, and a giggle immediately bubbled out of you. Jay had taken a mirror selfie, his arm flexed in a way that made you pause for a moment, thoroughly appreciating the definition. He was wearing a baseball cap, pulled low over his face, but the telltale flush creeping up his neck and cheeks was impossible to miss.

It was adorable.

You: OMG, you’re blushing!

Jay: Shut up. You begged for this. And don’t screenshot it!

But it was already too late—you’d saved the picture to your camera roll the second you saw it. Hugging your phone to your chest, you kicked your feet, your earlier boredom completely forgotten.

You: I love you! You’re the best!

Jay: You’re such a handful. But… I love you too

a/n: who loves biceps? hands up!!

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[a-b-riddle]

Continuing this idea.

You should be scared. Very scared. Instead you were just stupid in thinking that this person who had repeatedly broke into your home, admitting to watching you, and completely invading your privacy didn’t mean you any harm.

Your logic that if he wanted to, he would have. You just hoped to god that your intuition about him was right. You had met monsters before. They didn’t make themselves known until it was too late.

But he was different. The small things he did to make your life easier weren’t things men intent on hurting you did. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have the opportunity to.

You had gotten a dog and a cat. A bonded pair that had been left when their family moved away, leaving the partners stranded.

When you came home with the adorable mutt you sent your shadow a cheeky text.

Don’t worry. I made sure he was good with men. Just not sure if he cares for masked ones.

More worried about the cat.

This little guy? Cheese is harmless. You attached a picture of your new orange cat sleeping peacefully on your couch.

You named the fucking thing Cheese?

Dog’s name is Mac.

That only earned you a thumbs down emoji.

It had been three weeks and you were certain he hadn’t been back into your apartment. You had to do mundane tasks again. Take out the trash. Get your mail from the box. You weren’t sure how he was managing that one.

It wasn’t until you got held up at work that you sent him a text. You felt like you were asking too much, but thankfully he had crossed the line from breaking into your place.

Could I ask a favor?

Almost instantly he sent back a reply.

You could

Can you take Mac out? I’m not gonna be out of here for another 3 hours. Another waitress quit last minute and I’m stuck here. 😭

You added the crying face for effect.

Could test out that biting theory.

He won’t bite you.

Wasn’t talking about the dog, Love.

Forty minutes later you got a picture of Mac looking up. His pink tongue hanging out of his mouth, looking up in excitement.

Be careful if you pass by the guy who hangs out back by the play area. Mac dislocated my arm this weekend being a little asshole and lunging after him.

Thought you said he wouldn’t bite.

Wouldn’t bite YOU. He’s a good judge of character.

He’s a good boy.

The following shifts, your shadow would send you photos. All of Mac. All outside. None giving you the slightest idea of what he looked like.

You gave him a heads up that you’d be able to take him out yourself. You don’t know how you’d react to finally meeting him. You could have easily stalked him as he had done you, but there wasn’t any fun in that. And he had made this fun.

You didn’t however count on Mac scratching at the door at 10 pm that night.

Or the next.

Or the next.

His entire schedule was thrown off. The vet said it was a UTI and your only options were keep letting him out as needed or he will try and hold it in and risk his bladder getting inflected. Or even his kidneys.

You were standing in the flood light at the edge of your apartment building when your phone buzzed.

You need to stop going out this late. Not safe.

Why? You text back, grinning. You’re out here too. Not anything to be afraid of.

Careful. Sounds like you like having me around.

Who says I don’t?

He didn’t respond. You try again.

Am I ever gonna be able to meet you?

Three dots appeared after moments of silence

Don’t think so pet.

What’s the point then? Isn’t a hunter’s goal is to get close to their prey?

Is that what you think you are to me? My prey?

You couldn’t tell if he was actually offended. Fuck. How do you make this better?

Is it bad if I want to be?

What the fuck? Your reaction was to turn things sexual? But you weren’t lying. You often found yourself imagining him, a masked stranger coming into your room while you slept. Looming over your defenseless body until the exact moment he decided to strike.

In an instant he would have your hands restrained and a palm covering your mouth. He’d tell you to hush. The fantasy hard to imagine in that moment when you wondered what he would sound like.

I’m not actually afraid of you, you know?

Oh really? Someone is feeling brave tonight. Going out into the dark. Taunting their stalker.

You swear your could feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest. He was into it. Just as much as you were. You thought maybe given the initial cute acts of service it was more of a guardian angel kind of thing.

It wasn’t until you noticed underwear missing did you know he was just as filthy as you hoped him to be. Even though you never brought it up. Too afraid to get in too deep with someone who could be a sociopath.

You could come and see how brave I am.

He didn’t respond immediately and Mac was done dribbling out the last hit of pee. You were in the stairway when your phone chiroed.

Fine. See you soon.

A picture followed. It was dark. So dark you had to turn up your brightness. When your eyes focused, your stomach dropped.

It was you.

A stilled image of you walking into the building your back turned. The image too clear to be taken from a distance. If you had to guess it was no more than ten feet away.

Ten feet away and you didn’t hear a fucking thing. Completely oblivious to the danger close by.

That night you had came so hard you had half a mind to text him a thank you for being the inspiration behind your bliss.

[rileyslibrary]

“So, let me get this straight,” he says, rubbing his temples, “You set fire to your tent while trying to make what?”

Heat rises to your face as you avoid meeting his eyes. You fidget with your fingers, feeling exposed and vulnerable in front of your superior. Your breathing is so loud and ragged in the silence of his tent, and you try to steady yourself before speaking.

You murmur an inaudible answer while shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“Louder, soldier,” he commands, “and look at me when I address you.”

You take a deep breath and hold it in. You lift your head and meet his eyes. His balaclava is crooked and messy as if he put it on in a hurry when the entire camp went into chaos. You can see a few stray hairs poking out from underneath it. His eyes are bloodshot, and his voice is hoarse; the poor guy has had enough.

“Popcorn, sir.” You whisper and instinctively kick a rock on the ground, wishing it was you.

“Popcorn.” He repeats, amazed.

You nod and divert your gaze to your left, where his bed is. You blush and immediately swing your head in the other direction.

“What were you thinking?” He asks, leaning on his field desk with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I guess I, um, I guess I was hungry, sir.” You stammer. You shift your weight to the balls of your feet, then place them back on the ground.

“You guess you were hungry?” He asks dumbfounded, “And you decided that popcorn was the right snacking choice?”

You shrug, and he shakes his head.

“Tell me, soldier,” he says, “do you know what popcorn does?”

“What does it do?” You ask naively.

“Come on, work with me,” he says, gesticulating with his hands, “it’s a compound word; corn that...”

“… pops?”

“Repeatedly”, he nods, “and do you know what repeated ‘pops’ might be interpreted with? In a field exercise? With a bunch of soldiers on high alert?”

“Gunshots?”

“Repeated gunshots,” he corrects you.

You shut your eyes and hunch over. “I’m really sorry, sir,” you finally mutter, “it was an accident.”

“Oh!” He exclaims and throws his hands up, “Thank you for clearing that out, soldier; see, I was worried you were intentionally committing arson!”

“No, sir, I promise you that wasn’t my intention,” you cry, “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Upsetting me is not the problem here, Y/N, and if you can’t see that, we have a bigger issue to deal with.”

You furrow your eyebrows and look at him, confused. He takes a while to assess your expression and widens his eyes, ready to lecture you for good now.

“You could have gotten hurt, you idiot!” He shouts, hitting his palm with the outer edge of his hand. “You could have burned yourself, or someone could have shot straight in your direction with all these...” he gestures with his hands, imitating fireworks, “...pops that you were making!”

You raise your eyebrows as you connect the dots. “You’re right, sir,” you nod, “I will try to be wiser and not make any stupid mistakes in the future.”

“Mistakes happen daily, and you are wise, soldier.” He reassures you, “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be on my team.” He walks behind his desk to sit on the folding chair. “It’s your inability to assess the danger that scares me.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he says gently, “and I worry that there might not always be someone there to help you.”

“I can assure you that the team is always-”

“I know the team is great and always has your back, but I mean me; I won’t always be there to save you from harm,” he says and shoos you away. “You’re dismissed,” he orders, and starts filling paperwork.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?” You ask.

He shuts his eyes and rubs his forehead. “I just extinguished one hell of a fire,” he replies. “Unless what I just experienced was a scene from a movie, I highly doubt I’d be able to sleep in peace.”

“I’m really sorry.” You apologise, and he waves his hand again for you to leave.

“Soldier?” He asks, and you turn to look at him one last time.

“I hope you didn’t bring any movies to accompany you with that popcorn.” He states in a stern voice.

You vigorously shake your head. “No, sir,” you reply, “no movies, just popcorn.”

He lets out a relieved exhale. “Just remember; next time you get hungry, it’s better to stick to the rations.”

You shrug and look at the ground. “I’ve run out of my allocated rations, sir.”

He lets out another exhale, this time deeper, and tilts his head to the side.

“Is that the reason you decided to cook for yourself?” He asks, “Because you ate all your meals?”

You slowly nod. His eyes have softened, and he looks more compassionate than before. Almost forgiving; human.

He opens the drawer of his field desk and grabs an energy bar and a pack of dried figs. He pushes them towards you.

“Please, come see me next time,” he advises you. “I much rather wake up to you asking for food than to a blitzkrieg of kernels popping.”

[theorist-fox]

There's no butler in The Usual Suspects

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

18+

Self-indulgent piece because I need some fluff in these hard times

Summary: Simon gets distracted while watching a movie, and then he gets distracted while watching you.

Word count: 2.8k

CW: Kevin Spacey Jumpscare and big fat spoiler for "THE USUAL SUSPECTS". Also, smut in established relationship (Simon is so whipped).

Let me know if you've been cockblocked as well.

Masterlist 🦊

“’S Kobayashi,” he mutters.

You give him a look. “Kobayashi?”

“The—the criminal thing,” Simon gestures vaguely at the TV, legs spread in the spot next to yours on the sofa. “Wha’ was his name.”

He sees you connect the dots slowly, head tilted in question, and then you stifle a laugh when it hits you.

“The criminal thing? You mean Keyser Söze?”

He snaps his fingers at you in recognition. As if you haven’t seen the movie already and only sat down on the living room couch to have him watch it—because that’s a great film, you said. One he can't apparently miss.

“Tha’ one.”

“How can it be Kobayashi.” You deadpan as the TV buzzes with dialogues you’re not paying attention to anymore.

He shrugs. “S’always the butler.”

You chuckle, tucking your legs on the cushions. “Kobayashi’s not a butler.”

“Closest thing.”

“Have you been watching the movie at all?”

Simon gives you a side eye, arms crossed on his chest. Thinks. His gaze falls down your legs inconspicuously before rising up and following the curve of your hips, up until the plump of your breasts outlined by the fabric of your t-shirt. It’s a quick swipe you could’ve missed, but he knows you’ve caught him red-handed.

“Sorta.” He replies, though his voice has a certain hoarseness to it, now.

You give him a knowing smile, echoing the word right after him with so much skepticism he tastes it on his tongue.

“C’mere,” he says, beckoning with his fingers, before gently curling them around your forearm to tug you in.

A quick pat on your thigh has you straddling his lap. You take the blanket with you, draped over your shoulders like a soft cape. Simon cups your hips with his palms, thumbs drawing mindless circles at your hipbones.

“The movie, Si.” You say softly, placing your hands on either side of his neck. 

But his eyes are already tracing the fine lines of your face, tiny imperfections he adores because they make you more real and less of a dream. 

“S’the butler, trust me.” He murmurs, and you chuckle under your breath.

“It's not the butler. There’s no bloody butler.”

It makes his lips curl in a smirk, because he knows you like being right—and he’s more than aware that you are, because, as you've told him for the nth time, there is no fucking butler in The Usual Suspects.

But he stopped watching the whole thing thirty minutes in, when he got the gist of the film, instead favoring to focus on you.

Can’t fucking believe he gets to witness this firsthand, eh?

Gets to have a pretty thing like you share her home. Share her meals. Her bed. Her thoughts, her glances, herself. Fuck, how he’d like to show this to his fucking father. Show him that you chose him, no matter how hard that bastard's tried to turn him into the same worthless sack of shit that he was.

So, frankly, sue him if he doesn’t care about this movie when you’re so obviously there—looking divine in your simplicity.

And now he has you exactly where he wants you. Plush thighs sitting atop his, tongue peeking out to wet your lips.

He leans forward and leaves a peck at the corner of your mouth. Then one kiss on your chin, one down your throat, to your collarbones. He's not choosy, kissing wherever his lips land.

He puckers his lips around your nipple, sucking through the cotton of your shirt, and you arch into him, inadvertently grinding your hips against where he’s already hard. You hiss and glower when he sinks his teeth around it, and his shoulders shake with a breathless laugh at how powerless you look, even if you’re trying your best to appear otherwise. 

Before you can chide him, however, he blinks up and gives you the softest of smiles—aware that he rarely offers them. Aware that they melt your resolve easily, like snow under the morning sun. 

So, really, it’s not long before you drop the blanket on the floor, pooling at his feet—his briefs and sweatpants coiled around his ankles. Your own clothes freckle the coffee table, or the armrest of the couch, or the carpet underfoot—he took them off you and tossed them away blindly, uncaring of where they landed.

It’s not long before he’s worked you open with his hand. Not long before he has you fuck yourself on two thick fingers he occasionally scissors inside you, watching you drag your clit across the heel of his hand—your breathless moans somehow louder than the barrage of gunshots blaring from the TV. 

He stuffs those same fingers in your mouth once he's satisfied with how wet you are. Watches how your cheeks sink at the suction. Feels the rough texture of your tongue coat his pads. He takes them out, then. Smears your spit on your lips only to kiss it with his own.

Soft hands are placed on his chest as he holds the base of his cock to help you sink on him. The screen of the TV creates a halo of light around your shoulders and back, and Simon thinks he’s being blessed—he’ll never get used to it, neither the sight of you nor the warmth of your sex.

Within minutes, he has you stretched around him, taking his cock as if you were born to do it. His palm lies flat on your lower belly, thumb rolling circles on your clit. Simon lets you ride him, watching mesmerized all the things you hate about yourself, all the things that make you so real to his eyes. 

He loves to watch you cum, but for selfish reasons. Not only do you feel heavenly clenching around his cock, milking it for all it's worth, but also because, unbeknownst to you, all those details you seem to despise suddenly bloom before his eyes.

The rolls of your stomach, and how they ripple when your orgasm stalks closer.

The lines curling around your mouth, the way they stretch when you stutter your moans, when you whisper his name among them—like a fucking prayer, like you only know how to say his own.

The crow’s feet at the corners of your eyes—you say they came too early, he says they make your eyes smile. 

And fuck if all that doesn’t make you prettier in his eyes, no matter what you think.

You’re entranced. Heavy lashes curtain your eyes, casting shadows on your cheekbones. It’s ethereal to look at you, wonderful thing in his arms, so abandoned in bliss because of him. Nails dig into the muscles of his shoulders, but there's no pain—not when the plump of your rear slaps against his thighs each time you come down to take him to the hilt.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He grunts against the tightness of his throat, “You wanna cum, yeah?”

He feels the knot of your clit getting raw under his thumb, so he grabs your jaw and sticks his finger in your mouth. Your lips close around the knuckle, and he watches with heavy eyes how you suck on it, lathering his pad with your spit, before he returns it to your sex. 

He draws his thumb back and forth on your clit, unsheathing it from its hood so that each stroke sends sparks up your spine. You jolt above him when he touches it right, and he drinks in the sight of you trembling when you try and resume the pace.

“You do, don’t you?” He asks again, "Sweet girl."

Your head bobs limply in a nod, and your lips twitch in a smile, because you know he’s going to comply. He'd never take a thing from you—always giving more, and more, and more.

“Fuckin' hell.” He curses under his breath, mouth dry like sandpaper. “I got you, love. I got you—c'mere."

Simon’s arms wrap around your waist to bring you in, allowing you the chance to rest the tireless work of your hips in order to favor his. Your forehead is in the crook of his neck now, and you’re curled into him as he holds you steady and fucks his cock into you from below. 

He whispers nothings in your ear. Calls you beautiful as you come apart piece by piece, unraveling like a spool of thread between his fingers while his calves burn from the strain. Let him be consumed, for all he cares—as long as you're there, sizzling hot and clammy and soft.

He laps at the sweat like dew on your neck, sucking love bites while being careful not to leave any dark spots behind. Though he would love, if anyone were to ask, to mark you up like you’re his property. Symbolic—someone his, and his only.

However, he figures his cock spearing you open is enough of a statement.

The TV drones muted dialogues, drowned in the slap of skin against skin and your soft breaths in his ear. Sweet fucking sounds, he thinks. Would taste like honey, feel like silk.

Liquid warmth wraps around his cock, a cocktail of your arousal and his. It makes something tighten at the apex of his thighs, makes his fingers twitch against the fat of your hips.

He wants to cum inside you. Wants to see it leak out and push it back in only to fuck you again. He wants your face warm and dizzy, your eyes rolled back, and his name on the tip of your tongue.

So, he bucks his hips and fucks his cock into you again, and again, and again. Until you're a shivering mess and your nails are leaving red marks on his back. Until you stumble over your moans and his grunts echo with your own. Curses, praises, whines pitching upwards and—

A bang from the TV.

You jump in his hold, whining something unintelligible over the ringing in his ears.

His mouth twitches in annoyance as he goes and resumes the pace, trying to give you back the orgasm you've clearly lost. One he's fucking lost, too.

But whatever’s happening in the movie must require some build-up of tension, because the volume suddenly skyrockets. 

He tries to pay it no mind. However, you seem to do.

“Turn off the thing,” you mumble through heavy breaths, gesturing blindly to where the remote should be. 

He huffs and looks around for it, using one hand to keep you still as he slows down with his hips. He finds it tucked between the cushions of the sofa and snatches it off before pointing at the TV. 

There, his eyes land on a scene. A close-up of two shoes, walking with a limp at first, and then straightening their step. Cut to a hand lifting a cigarette being brought to a pair of lips. 

“Bloody hell.” 

His voice is so croaky that it has you lift your head in worry, movements coming to a halt. You palm his jaw, your breath puffing against his cheek.

“What? You alright?” You fumble, brows pinching right above your nose. “Did I hurt you?”

“T’was Kint.” He mumbles, frowning in thought. 

The air still smells of sex, but there isn’t an ounce of it left in either of you. You blink, as if the motion could bring you back to earth, as if it could make you forget how painfully tight you’re stretched around him.

“Wh-what?” You pant, confused. Clearly, blood still hasn't made its way back to your head. “Who?”

“Keyser Söze.”

You almost flinch when he says that. Eyes wide and a big, fat question mark floating above your head. Slack-jawed. Befuddled. 

Only when your fucked-out brain connects the dots do you snort.

“K-Keyser So—what the fuck, Simon?” You chuckle under your breath, “Now? Really?”

He blinks. Drops the hand holding the remote next to his thigh with such abandon one might think he’s just received the worst news of his life. Then, he looks up at you, one arm still wrapped around your side, fingers grazing at your tailbone.

“Really fuckin’ thought t'was the butler.” He mumbles in disappointment, but his lips twitch in a smirk.

You burst into a laugh above him, throwing your head back. It ripples through your stomach in waves that rumble against his own, and he realizes that it looks even better when it happens because of this instead of an orgasm. 

It tugs at his heartstrings, and so he tugs you a little closer. 

When you return your eyes to him and bring your hands to cup his cheeks, he nuzzles your palm and presses a kiss against it.

“Told you there was no butler in The Usual Suspects,” you say a little smugly, but with a smile that could brighten up a room.

Simon holds your eyes for a moment longer, and then he wiggles his fingers against your side to steal another laugh out of you. 

“Yeah, alrigh’ smartarse.”

He lifts you up enough to place you on your back on the sofa, tucking his hips between your thighs. He slides his cock inside you again, but you’re so wet that you barely react to it. His hand comes to cup your cheek, while the other one slips between your bodies to brush against your clit.

It throbs under his touch, asking for attention. He gives it, reverently, as he slides in and out of you at the slowest of paces, rolling idle circles that cause the air to lodge in your throat.

You hold him with your arms around his neck, occasionally grazing his scalp with your fingers. Your lips travel from his cheek to his jaw, until you’re softly biting into the meat of his shoulder when he hits something that feels particularly good.

He fucks you languidly this time, as the credits of the film roll like background noise. Simon makes love to you with each lazy kiss down your neck and each slow drag of his cock—deliberate movements that give your orgasm the chance to build up slowly, coiling around your belly up to your throat in a blazing warmth that Simon feels stick to his chest.

It’s not long before you cum around him, huffing heavily from your nose while your teeth sink deeper into his skin. That does it for him, and the knot at the base of his cock finally snaps, causing syrupy hot warmth to travel all the way to the tips of his toes. Simon cums with a muted groan, and his body gives out until his chest falls flush to yours. He spills inside of you and traps your lips in a heavy kiss—because you taste so much better when you’re still shivering underneath him.

Your breath is hot as it hits the damp skin of his neck. Your mouth is warm when you press it to the shell of his ear. And when he comes back to his senses, he props his weight on one arm and looks down at you, basking in the afterglow.

The telly drones silently as it displays the front page of some streaming service you pay for. It’s the only light in the living room, and it bathes you in soft oranges and ruddy shades.

You look lovely like this, he thinks.

He pulls out of you, careful when you wince as his cock drags against your sensitive walls. He watches with rapt attention as his cum leaks out of your hole—it makes his eye twitch and his cock ache once again.

But you seem sated, glassy eyes slow blinking at the ceiling. Chest rising and falling softly.

So, he relents to your wishes and stuffs the thought of having you for a second time in the back of his mind.

And since he knows neither of you can be arsed to clean the sofa in case it stains, he uses his fingers to gently push his cum back inside. You read his mind and cant your hips upward so it won't leak out again.

“Guess perception wasn’t one of the SAS requirements, uh?” You tease him breathlessly, toying with the hair at his nape. A snort escapes you, and you mock his gruff voice. "S'always the butler."

He narrows his eyes and flicks your nose because he knows it'll make you smile. Then, he brings his hand between your faces, watching how his middlemost fingers glisten under the soft light from the telly. 

“How ‘bout you put tha’ mouth of yours to better use, mh?”

You scrunch your nose in a smile. “Like what?”

“Could clean this up, for starters.” He mumbles with a smirk.

You snort. “Charming.”

He gives you a cheeky side eye, but ultimately moves his hand out of the way to kiss your smile. His chuckle is hoarse against your mouth, inviting and warm, as his kisses turn playfully sloppy just to rile you up and have you giggle underneath him.

And you cherish it—like you do every time—by kissing him in kind.

[clarkeybabey]

❝ playing my heartstrings like a rock star ❞

# summary; you're messing with his feelings and he doesn't understand why

# playlist; hey arthur!, arthur hill, think i'm in love with you, chris stapleton, please notice, christian leave

# word count; 1.9k

# note; i needed a happy ending my first fic on here cant be angst<3 I did not proofread this so sorry

The three boys sat in their sitting room, a comfortable silence lingering as they scrolled through their phones. "Arthur wants to know if we're going to come to the pub with him," George finally spoke up, looking to his friends and mentally crossing his fingers they'd agree. They deserved it after the week they've had.

Arthur chews the inside of his lip waiting for Chris' reply, not wanting to be the one to reject the invitation, but he knows you'll be there after your earlier text about going for drinks.

Chris shrugs laying his phone down next to him, "I don't see why not," both he and George stand, heading in the direction of their bedrooms to grab sweaters and shoes, assuming everyone is down.

When they disappear from sight, Arthur finds himself groaning, pressing his palms so hard to his closed eyes that he sees stars dotting his vision when he eventually opens them. It's not that he doesn't want to see you, he knows that when he does he can't resist the later idea of going home with you and he hates himself for it.

"They can't know," you always say, referring to your shared group of friends, "it'll throw off the dynamic, you can just come to my flat for the night on the weekend." You're grown adults, who cares what you get into when you're alone? He doubts anyone would really care as much as you think, but every time he tries to express that someone ends up with their feelings hurt, and 99.9% of the time they're his.

He makes his way to his room, spending more time than he cares to admit trying to find the cologne he knows is your favorite. His closet's a mess, but he finds the jumper you love to steal kicking himself for trying so hard as he throws it on over his old t-shirt. He stands in his bathroom pulling a baseball cap on to cover how flat his hair had become from lying on the couch for the last two hours.

Chris is yelling something from the kitchen about how he's worse than a woman about his looks, he can't find it in himself to care enough to think of a witty reply, instead just shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.

their bar of choice isn't far so they decide walking is the better and cheaper option, the walk is quick, and he stays a few paces behind his friends with music playing in his airpods as he gives himself a pep talk preparing to see you.

You sit at the bar with Becky and Arthur chatting about everything and nothing all at once, "You know, babe, I still need to get you on see it off, George and both Arthurs have nominated you now," she remarks, smirking as she brings her pint to her lips, you look to Arthur whos nodding along with her.

As the three of you chat, you're practically yelling over the people around you, "Let me know a date and we'll get it sorted," you smile, Arthur pipes up about needing the toilet and slips off his stool heading off in the direction of the restrooms.

As soon as he's out of sight, she scoots into the seat he once inhabited with her brows raised, "Anything new with you and Mr Hill?" You sigh, dreading having to answer that question, "There won't be anything new ever I don't think, I've made it clear how bad of an idea we are," your stomach turns at your own words, suddenly feeling a wave of nausea wash over you.

It wasn't like you didn't want anything other than to be with him, but everyone was so close and the what if's shadow how good the relationship could be.

What if something bad happens and you can't spend time together as a big group any longer? What if you couldn't film together? What if you had to listen to songs written about how bad of a girlfriend you were? She groans, her head falling onto her crossed arms, "You're so doubtful, darling. Give him a shot, he's such a sweet boy, especially to you." She sounded exactly like your mum when you told her the same thing after he came home with you one weekend. Sighing you continue, "I've never met someone like him-" You're cut off suddenly as rough hands slap over your eyes, "Guess who," George Clarke and his atrociously fake, heightened voice are quite unmistakable, you shove his hands away, giggling, and spin on your stool.

Your heart thumps against your chest, rattling your ribcage knowing there's no chance he and Chris showed up without the one person you've been waiting all week to see, sure enough there he is, though he's not even looking in your direction instead his eyes are glued to his phone screen with both headphones in, obviously not wanting to be here in the slightest.

You greet the boys not really paying any mind to anything being said, keeping your attention on Arthur the whole time. finally, once the four of your friends are distracted, you slip off your barstool and join him at the table he was sitting at alone, "You alright?" your question hangs in the air as you sink your teeth into the plush of your lower lip, "Fine, thanks," he replies dryly going out of his way to seem as uninterested as possible.

Scoffing, you snatch his phone from his hand, pausing whatever was playing on his Spotify, "Talk to me, please? I missed you." His eyes soften at your words as he fights with himself not to give in to you too easily, "missed you too," he mumbles as he picks at the skin on his fingers anxiously wanting to spew all the thoughts he's having about the two of you. Together.

Luckily for him, you beat him to it, "I wanna be with you," your words are lost to him at first as he sputters, not truly believing what he's just heard. He hates the way you can read his mind, "Like, seriously, I mean it, but we can't" he shakes his head bitterly, thinking this has to be some sort of sick joke you and Becky had strewn together.

"Do you know how many times I've heard that, y/n? I mean, seriously, tell it to someone else." He sounds so dismissive, and it hurts, but nothing hurts as bad as the sight of tears welling up in his pretty eyes. You just sit there, looking at him blankly with a lump forming in your throat, searching his eyes for something other than what he's said, but you can't seem to find it.

You scoff sliding his phone across the table back to him, "Right, sorry," you nod biting at the skin on the inside of your cheek, you turn on your heels and Arthur hates the look that you give him over your shoulder as you wrap your arms around yourself, like you see right through his attitude into the deeper side of things.

When you return George is wearing the glasses you mistakenly left in now-drunk Becky's purse, faking your accent in the worst way you've ever heard, "Those are prescription, you're gonna hurt your eyes," you sigh shaking your head, doing your best to smile. You pull them away from his face by the bridge, folding them to tuck into the v of your top, "Think 'm gonna get going," you mumble, avoiding everyone's eyes as the laughter dies down.

"So soonnnn?" Becky pouts jutting out her bottom lip for good measure, tucking your phone into your back pocket, murmuring something about how you have to film in the morning. Your friends say goodbye as you go around hugging everyone, when you get to Chris he pulls you in and whispers into your ear, "Take Arthur with you, please? He's bloody miserable." His breath is hot and riddled with the smell of beer as it fans across your face.

From across the room, Arthur feels his blood run hot as Chris whispers something to you and his hand lingers on your waist for longer than he deems friendly or comfortable, rolling his eyes he nibbles at the dry skin on his bottom lip until he begins to notice the familiar metallic taste of blood linger on his tongue. Nothing about this evening was going well and it just seems like lives trying to get back at him for something he doesn't even know he's done.

He was too busy in his own head to notice your presence just next to him, "C'mon, my uber's waiting," nearly falling off his stool as your words snapped him from the trance he was in, "Not up for it tonight," you scoff at his words, of course, he's thinking the opposite of what you had planned.

"Don't want you to fuck me, just wanna spend time with you," His brows raise involuntarily at your bluntness, a smirk playing on his lips, knowing you can't stay away just as much as he, boosts his confidence every damn time.

He doesn't find it in himself to reject you again, simply sliding off the still and interlocking your fingers, hoping to God every one of your friends is watching. As you make it outside your uber is in fact not there, he's about a mile out so you lean against the brick wall, Arthur's close proximity looming over you, "What was Chris on about?" Your drooping eyes shoot open, and the jealousy in his voice makes you smirk, seeing an opportunity to toy with him, just a bit,

"What's it to you," you shoot back, arms crossed over your chest he steps closer suddenly invading your space, his cologne which so happens to be your favorite begins to cloud your nose and mind as your chest rises and falls, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "You know exactly what it is to me, sweetheart."

His thumb and forefinger grip your chin forcing you to meet his eyes, the rings of his hands are cold against your heating face, "If 'm going home with you, I suggest you share." Your breath hitches at the dominance that's suddenly radiating off him, you fight the urge to let your eyes roll back into your head as his breath fans across your face, instead letting them fall closed once more.

You swallow, once more allowing eye contact, "He thought you were miserable and I should take you home with me." The smirk on your face makes Arthur regret ever telling Chris and George about how he'd wanted to spend more time with you. "I want to give this a shot," he scans your face waiting for you to remind him how you shouldn't but you don't say anything else.

"You mean it," his thumb rubs circles on the exposed skin of your hip, you nod, knowing words would betray you, "Need to hear you say it," he sounds breathless, looking at you with hopeful raised eyebrows.

"I wanna be your girlfriend-" his lips meet yours before you can even finish your thought, both hands cupping cupping your face. A wolf whistle comes from your immediate left and he pulls away but doesn't step back, shielding you from view, though you see over his shoulder as both George and Arthur hand Becky what look to be ten-pound notes.

[cjlouwho]

The Things I Cannot Change

I made this post a couple days ago then had to write a fic about it. Enjoy! Read below or on ao3.

“Wait a minute, you're datin' Kinard?” Gerrard asked mid-swing. He had taken Buck out to Topgolf as a thank you for saving his life. Although, Buck still wasn't sure that was actually his intention at the time.

“Yes, Sir,” Buck replied, steeling himself for whatever was going to come out of the man's mouth next.

“He got a sister or something?”

“No, Sir.”

“Didn't think so.” Gerrard planted his feet and swung, unsatisfied by where the ball landed. “So you're a... one of those?”

“Bisexual, yes.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Oh, you swing both ways? Interesting, interesting. You didn't hear about all that back in my day, Buckley. The world has definitely changed.”

“We've always existed,” Buck replied, a part of him wondering why he didn't shove Gerrard to the ground just a little bit harder.

They each took another turn before Gerrard spoke again. “Kinard,” he said, contemplatively. “Gotta say, don't see you two matching.”

Buck closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before turning to Gerrard. “Why's that?”

“Don't get me wrong, Buck, he was a great firefighter when he worked under me. Dotted his I's, crossed his T's. But he wasn't always that way. There's a lot about him...” He shook his head. “Hm. What am I saying, I'm sure you know everything about him anyway, right?”

“Y- yeah,” Buck replied. He knew Gerrard's mind games. Knew better than to fall for it. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

He walked over to his golf carrier, straightening the firefighter club cover.

“That Operation Thunderbolt was something else, wasn't it?” Gerrard asked.

It took everything in Buck's power to not start asking questions. “Mhm.”

“Mistakes like that can't happen in the firefighting world. Told Kinard as much when he started. Damn, he was a mess back then.” Gerrard let out a laugh. “I whipped him into shape real good. Made him who he is.”

“Mm, yeah. I- I'm sure.”

“That Thunderbolt though,” Gerrard sucked in a breath. “Not good, Buckley. Not good.”

*****

“I think Gerrard is still playing mind games with me,” Buck said to Eddie as he plopped down on the couch. It was a rare shift they had without Gerrard, meaning they could actually sit down and relax.

“Of course he is,” Eddie replied, not bothering to look up from the magazine he was reading. “He took you golfing, Buck. And to lunch, twice.”

“Yeah, but it's more than that now. He, uh, he found out I'm dating Tommy.”

Eddie peered over his magazine at that, eying Buck closely. “He found out? How'd that happen?”

“I... kinda told him.”

“And you think that was a wise decision?”

Buck sat up straighter. “It was the only decision, Eddie. He asked if I was seeing anyone. I- I wasn't gonna lie and say no, or- or make it seem like I was seeing a woman just to make him-”

Eddie raised a hand to stop him. “Buck, not judging. Just asking.”

“Right, well,” he settled into the couch again, clearing his throat. “He knows now.”

“And?”

“And he said he didn't see us matching.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Big surprise there. You can't let him bother you, Buck. Gotta let that stuff roll right off ya.”

“Yeah, I- I did. But, he just... Do you think I know everything about Tommy?”

“I don't know,” Eddie answered, confused. “I'm not a fly on your wall, Buck, I don't know what you two talk about.”

“But, generally speaking, do you think I know him? Because, he knows all my stuff. Like, Daniel, and my parents, and the way I acted when I was younger to get attention. He knows all the different versions of Buck, ya know? And I just, I don't know if I know all his versions.”

“I don't think you ever really stop getting to know someone, Buck. You might think he knows all about you, but I'm sure you surprise him every day.”

Buck sighed. “I'm talking the big stuff, Eddie, not whether or not I enjoy whipped cream being licked off me-”

“Okay, no.”

“Eddie.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “I don't know what you want from me, Man. What are you trying to get at?”

“Gerrard mentioned something to me about Tommy that I've never heard of, and I have no idea if he's is lying or not.”

“If it's about Tommy, I'd say he's probably making something out to be worse than it is. Gerrard doesn't seem to fond of the guy.”

Buck nodded. “Yeah. No, no, yeah, I- I agree.”

“So, all good now?”

“Mhm. Yeah, all good. It was stupid anyway.” He grabbed a book from the coffee table, flipping to a random page. “Something about Tommy's time in the army. Operation Thunderbolt,” he shrugged. “I'm sure it's nothing.”

He wasn't sure what made him look up. He hadn't expected Eddie to respond anyway. But when he did glance over at him, he saw Eddie with his eyes practically frozen as he stared at a spot on the wall. Buck knew that look.

Avoidance.

“Eddie?”

Buck's voice seemed to break him out of his trance. He returned to his magazine, eyebrows furrowed. He clearly wasn't reading the article in front of him.

“Eddie?” Buck repeated, louder this time. “Do... Do you know something?”

There were a few more seconds of silence, Eddie's lips pursed as he tried to think of what to say. “I... Buck, it's not really my place.”

Now Buck was worried. “So it's true? There was an Operation Thunderbolt?”

“Buck, I'm not gonna do this,” Eddie said as he stood. He dropped his magazine down on the coffee table and went to walk away. “You need to leave it alone.”

Buck followed him. “Hey, I was your friend first,” he said. And yeah, maybe that was childish, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

Eddie swirled around, nearly knocking into Buck. “That's not fair, and it's not gonna work. If it's gonna bother you so much, talk to Tommy yourself. But I'm warning you, you need to leave it alone.”

When Eddie walked away, Buck didn't follow.

He trusted Eddie. Knew there had to be a good reason he wouldn't get into it.

He'd do what Eddie said.

He'd let it go.

He would.

He would really try to let it go.

*****

He couldn't let it go.

He headed to Tommy's place after work. Tommy had been promising to make his infamous chicken pot pie, the one everyone at the 217 was obsessed with, and tonight was the night.

The food was in the oven, and they were on the couch. Some show was playing on the TV, but it was mainly on for background noise while they made out.

It was kind of a tradition of theirs. Kiss while dinner cooked and then pick up where they left off after they were done eating.

But this time was different, because the words Operation Thunderbolt kept flashing through Buck's mind. Gerrard's voice telling Buck he was sure they knew everything about each other. Eddie's face when he brought up the operation. How closed off he became, how he avoided Buck for the rest of the day.

“Okay,” Tommy said, pulling away. “What's wrong?”

Buck tried to look dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“I did that thing with my tongue that always makes you jump in my lap and you didn't even react. What's wrong?”

Buck shook his head, straightening out his shirt. “N- Nothing. I just... I think I'm tired from work is all.”

Tommy tilted his head. “Evan.”

“It's nothing, really. Let's just,” Buck tugged at Tommy's shirt, trying to bring him in for another kiss, “let's keep going. I'll react this time.”

As Buck attempted to pull Tommy closer, Tommy leaned his head back and wrapped his hands around Buck's wrists, stopping him. “Evan, come on. Be honest with me.”

And those were quite possibly the worst set of words Tommy could have chosen, because it took Buck from worried to angry in under a second.

“Honest?” He practically jerked his hands away from Tommy. “You want me to be honest with you?”

“It is the best policy.”

Buck scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course you'd think this is a joke.”

“Evan, I'm not really sure what this is at all. I'd love it if you could fill me in though.”

“It's... It's,” Buck stood, hands on his hips, “It's a lot of things, Tommy.”

“Starting with...?”

“I went golfing with Gerrard a couple days ago.”

Tommy nodded. “I remember. You didn't talk much about it though. Did something happen?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Okay. What was it?”

“Doesn't matter,” Buck replied, beginning to pace back and forth. Just a few steps in one direction before turning back around.

“Obviously it does.”

“Eddie told me to let it go.”

“That doesn't seem to be happening. Come on, Evan.” Tommy stood, grasping onto Buck's arm to stop his pacing. “I'm serious. Talk to me.”

Buck stared him down. Looked deep into his eyes like he was trying to get direct access to his soul.

“Operation Thunderbolt.”

He'd never seen two words cause such an instant and dramatic shift in a person before. All the color drained from Tommy's face. His expression fell to nothing, mouth slightly open in shock. He looked like he was about to vomit, or pass out one.

A part of Buck wished he would have left it alone. Never let the words leave his mouth and dropped it like Eddie said.

The other part of Buck was still angry, and wanted to keep pushing his buttons. Wanted to find out why Eddie got to know parts of Tommy that Buck didn't get to know.

Tommy took a couple steps back, until his shins hit the couch and he could sit down again.

“E- Evan, I-”

“You know, I'm not even pissed that I don't know what the hell those words even mean. I'm pissed because I'm apparently the only one who doesn't know.”

Tommy's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He stared straight ahead, unable to even look in Buck's direction. “I really... I can't talk about this right now, Evan.”

“You mean you can't talk about it with me. Apparently you can yack it up with Gerrard and Eddie.”

Tommy unclenched his fists, resting them over his bouncing knees. “Gerrard knows about that because it's why I was discharged from the army. It was on my record and he talked to me about it when I first started at the 118.”

Buck crossed his arms over his chest. “And Eddie?”

The question came out accusatory. He hated that Eddie knew a part of Tommy that he didn't.

“Eddie was in the army.” Tommy finally managed to look up at Buck. His eyes were red-rimmed, filled with an emotion Buck had never seen from the man before. “He understands it.”

“And I don't?”

“No,” Tommy replied honestly. “No, you don't, Evan. And I'm really glad you don't.”

“I've told you everything about me, Tommy! All the bad stuff, all the embarrassing stuff! I thought you'd done the same, but apparently I'm the only one really in this relationship.”

Tommy's eyes darkened. He stood back up, chest heaving. “Do not try and compare stealing fire engines for sex to what I did.”

“I don't even know what you did, Tommy!” Buck exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Did you fly to the wrong place? Disobey orders? Get a slap on the wrist from a commanding officer? Someone find out you were-”

“I killed an entire family!” Tommy yelled, causing Buck to jump back ever so slightly. He'd never heard Tommy raise his voice before.

“Wh- What?”

“Thunderbolt was a codename for an operation in Iraq. We were supposed to take out a terrorist cell,” Tommy explained, speaking quickly. “Target was confirmed so I fired. Not even a second later I hear abort, abort, abort in my headset, but it was already too late. Intel was bad, I ended up directing a missile to an innocent family. Grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, and ten kids. I killed an entire bloodline, Evan.”

“T- Tommy-”

“They're just heat signatures on a monitor, Kinard, nothing more. That's what my commanding officer told me. But I couldn't let it go. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I was a mess. They gave me an honorable discharge and a damn medal for killing those people.”

“I didn't-”

“Sometimes I think about it too much,” Tommy continued, ignoring Buck's interruptions. “One day Eddie was coming over for Muay Thai and I could barely get myself up off the couch. He knew something was wrong and we started talking. I don't have many friends, Evan, and Eddie is the first I've had that was in the army. It's easy to talk to him about this stuff because I don't feel like I have to explain myself over and over again or worry that he's going to think I'm a monster.”

“I don't think you're a monster.” Buck's voice was small. He felt like he was two feet tall.

“I can tell when a person looks at me differently, Evan. Saw it the second I told you.”

“Yeah, because I was surprised! It's a lot to throw on a person!”

“I didn't want to throw it on you! I was gonna tell you eventually, but I didn't feel ready yet. Didn't know how to explain it to you.” Tommy stood, his nervous energy taking over. He walked past Buck and headed for the door. “I can't do this right now. I need to go.”

“This is your house, Tommy. I'll go.”

“No, I need to get out.” He grabbed his coat and his keys. “Can you turn off the oven for me, please?”

“Tommy, come on, please don't leave mad. I'm sorry, okay?”

Tommy paused, the door half open. “Not mad, Evan. You definitely don't need to apologize to me. I just... I can't. You have a key. Lock up when you leave.”

*****

Buck gave Tommy twenty-four hours before sending a text.

Can I come over to talk please?

He waited thirty minutes before trying again.

Tommy, I don't think you're a monster, and I'd like to apologize to you in person. I know I threw that on you and I shouldn't have.

Still nothing.

So, he tried calling. It rang seven times before it went to voicemail.

“Tommy, I just wanna talk. I- I know I probably deserve the silent treatment but... I just wanna talk. Call me back, please.”

Buck was not known for his patience. It took everything within him to not get in his car and drive to Tommy's place right then and there.

But he didn't want to smother Tommy, at least not more than he already had. He waited an hour, then started getting ready for bed. He had to be at work early tomorrow, and if Tommy wasn't ready to talk yet, he'd respect that.

It was the least he could do.

When he woke up for work the next day and had no missed messages or calls from Tommy, he worried.

He had half expected to hear something from him during the night.

When he got to work, he made a beeline for Eddie, who was putting some things into his locker.

“Eddie, have you heard from Tommy in the past couple days?”

“Good morning to you too, Buck. My time off was great, thanks for asking.”

“Come on, I'm serious. Have you heard from him?”

Eddie closed his locker door and turned to Buck. “I thought you were spending your time off with him?”

“We had a... a thing.”

“A thing?”

“A fight,” Buck clarified. “Sort of. A fight-ish.”

“A... A fight-ish? Would this fight-ish have to do with Gerrard and a certain military operation?”

Buck shrugged. “Maybe. Possibly you too.”

“Me?!” Eddie exclaimed. “Why me?”

“Listen, I got a little angry over the fact you seem to know Tommy better than I do and I may have expressed as much, okay? And yes, I mentioned the operation, and kind of forced him into explaining, which may have sent him spiraling. He said he wasn't mad, but he has a way of saying that instead of letting me apologize for things and now he won't answer me and I'm afraid he's actually mad or-”

“Breathe,” Eddie interrupted, patting Buck on the shoulder. “I haven't heard from him. Honestly, though, if he told you about Thunderbolt, he's probably not doing great right now.”

Buck flopped down onto one of the benches, his legs stretching out in front of him. “I really screwed up, Eddie.”

“I'm the king of screw ups, Man,” Eddie replied, sitting beside him. “You haven't done anything that can't be fixed. For what it's worth, he was always planning on telling you. It's just a tough one for him to talk about without spiraling.”

Buck glared over at him. “You're really not helping.”

“You've got a twelve today too, right?”

Buck nodded.

“I'll text him, see if he answers. You head over after work. It'll work out. Don't worry.”

*****

Worry was all Buck did the entire day. Especially after Eddie sent his third text and got no response. Even he thought it was strange, which made Buck worry even more.

He couldn't get to Tommy's fast enough after his shift. He hurried over, not hesitating to use his key to get inside.

“Tommy?” he called out apprehensively. “Are you here?”

He knew Tommy had to be there. His car was in the driveway and he always left his door unlocked when he went for a run, much to Buck's dismay.

He headed for the living room first, then the kitchen.

“Tommy?” he called again before heading to the bedroom.

No lights were on in the house, and the sun had nearly set, making it difficult to see. When he pushed open the cracked bedroom door, he could barely see the outline of Tommy lying in bed, covers pulled up to his neck. His blackout curtains were drawn, making the room nearly pitch black.

Buck entered the room cautiously. “Tommy, y- you awake?”

“Mmm,” he grunted. “Yeah.”

“I've been worried,” he said, toeing off his shoes before crawling onto the bed. “I tried calling and texting. Eddie did too.”

“Haven't been by my phone,” Tommy mumbled into his pillow.

Buck settled into his usual side of the bed, keeping some space between them. “Is this... Is this about our fight? I really am sorry for pushing you, Tommy.”

“Not mad,” he replied, managing to roll over and curl into Buck's side. “Told you I wasn't mad yesterday.”

“It... It's been two days, Babe.”

He rested a hand over Buck's stomach, gripping the material of his shirt. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah.” Buck wrapped an arm around Tommy's back, letting his nails scratch up and down his spine. “I- Tommy, what's going on?”

“Tired.” He nestled his head further into Buck's waist. “Brain was thinking too much.”

“Oh.” Buck didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right words to make him feel better. He'd never seen Tommy like this before. It made him feel overwhelmed, and sad, and a little bit terrified. “You wanna talk about it?”

Tommy gripped even tighter. He was silent for a moment, breathing against Buck's body before he spoke quietly. “I killed people, Evan.”

God, Buck wanted to cry. “I- I know.”

“A whole family. Kids. I did that.”

“You didn't know, Tommy. It's not your fault.”

“That doesn't matter to them. They don't get to have a life because of me.”

Buck wanted to hold onto Tommy tighter, pull him all the way into his arms and hold him until the pain would go away.

But Tommy withdrew before Buck could even get his other arm around him. He turned back onto his other side, pulling the covers up until just his eyes and nose stuck out from under them. “I'm just tired, Hon. I'll be okay.”

*****

The next thing Tommy knew, he was being shook awake. The room was still dark, and he was pretty sure not much time had passed. “What? What time's it?”

“A little after eight,” Buck whispered, giving his shoulder another shake. “Get up, please.”

Tommy sighed. “Why? M'tired.”

“Because you have company.”

“I do?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Can you tell them to leave, Evan?”

“No. Get up.”

Tommy groaned, but forced himself to get out of bed. He took the hand Buck had held out for him, and let himself be led to the living room.

“Hey,” Eddie said from his spot on the couch. “You look like crap.”

“Eddie?” Tommy glanced back and forth between him and Buck. “What are you doing here?”

“Your boyfriend here called me and said you could use a friend.”

Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze to get his attention. “You're right,” he said. “I don't know the right thing to do or say to make you feel better. But I think he can.”

“Evan, I-”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's face, brushing a thumb over his cheek. He leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. “I love you, Tommy, okay? All of you.”

“I don't know what to say, Evan.”

“Say pizza's on the way,” Eddie interrupted. “I'm starving.”

Buck laughed, rolling his eyes as he turned back to Eddie. “Pizza is on the way. I'm gonna head out to the gym for a couple hours.”

He went to let go of Tommy's hand, but Tommy pulled him back in for a hug. “Come back after?” he asked, his mouth brushing against Buck's ear.

Buck nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Tommy pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Evan. I love you.”

Buck smiled, giving Tommy's hand a final squeeze before letting go. “See you two later. Save me a piece of pizza.”

“We'll see!” Eddie yelled out as Buck headed out the front door. He nodded at Tommy, who was still standing in the middle of the living room. “So, you ready to talk?”

Tommy only briefly hesitated before he walked over and sat on the opposite end of the couch, curling his knees up to his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, let's talk.”

[stevesgother]

Take It Off - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC - 2.4k

Warnings - THIS CHAPTER IS 18+ MDNI, ONE use of Y/N (pls give me a break it was essential to the plot), swearing, drinking, angst

AN - the 3rd and final part to the Dress mini series! I’ve never written anything smutty or remotely spicy so I hope this doesn’t read as awkward as it felt to write. i appreciate all the support on my first fics i’ve ever written. love , emma <3

Now

New Years Eve

1987

The Harrington residence had always been the go-to for ragers in high school. Devoid of parents, unlocked liquor cabinets and plenty of unoccupied bedrooms for steamy teenage rendezvous’; but this party would be different. Smaller and more intimate.

Nancy was helping you unload the groceries you had bought for the party tonight when she noticed a shift in your demeanor, you seemed on edge. It took her an entire year to stop staring daggers at you in public, making group settings tense. Nancy knew that Steve had the hots for you. As a matter of fact, it seemed like everyone knew, everyone except you. It was in his lingering touches and the longing glances. She had always known.

Now, the tension between you had withered and snapped like nothing more than a frayed rope pulled too taut. She wasn’t your best friend, and you weren’t hers; but there was a mutual respect. There was civility. She had Jonathan now, and they were happy.

“Do you think it’ll be awkward?” you ask, scared to know her answer.

Then

December 1987

The sun was shining through the windows in thick, golden beams that highlighted the slope of Steve’s cheekbones and the moles that dotted down his neck and disappeared below the collar of his t-shirt. Little specks of dust float through the air, illuminated by the light seeping through the curtains.

You take a moment to admire how ethereal he looks like this. You’re a tangle of limbs when you look down; even in your subconscious you long to be close to him. A sudden melancholy washes over you as you realize this would likely be the last time you ever wake in this position. Nose to nose, his arm strewn haphazardly across your middle.

He must sense your staring because slowly, he starts to peel open his eyes. It takes him exactly 4 seconds to realize he is in fact, not dreaming, and has accidentally enveloped you in his sleep. 

“Oh--” he startles groggily as he hurriedly pushes himself away from your side of the bed. “I’m sorry, I- I must’ve-” you want to protest at the lack of warmth his absence brings.

“No, you’re okay! I didn’t notice. Honest.” he looks skeptical; afraid that he might’ve crossed a line he can’t uncross. You reach a hand toward him, “Steve, it’s alright. You kept me warm actually,” you chuckle, “it’s freezing in here.”

He nods, clumsily stumbling out of bed and the tangle of sheets you two had found yourselves in. Too late, he realizes his rather compromising position. More specifically, the state of his dick directly after waking up.

“Oh my God!” you shout, moving quickly to cover your eyes and turning your entire upper body away from him. You already knew Steve was…well endowed. Girls love to talk, and those tight, light wash Levi’s don’t leave a lot up to the imagination; but now, with it literally staring you in the face, there’s not a doubt in your mind that that your best friend is absolutely hung.

“Ah! Jesus-” he grabs one of the sheets off the bed to cover his lower half. You realize just how hot you feel in contrast to the chilly air of the cabin. 

“Okay you can uh,” he trails off, “turn around.”

When you face him, Steve’s tomato red with a blush that reaches all the way from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. Still not daring to make eye contact with him, “Jeez, Harrington. You got a permit for that thing?” A poor, ill-timed attempt at a joke, but he chuckles nonetheless.

“Sorry I- uh forgot I went to bed without pants on,” he smiles sheepishly, “I’m gonna hop in the shower before we leave.” You reply with a two-finger salute, finding the loose threads of the sheets suddenly very interesting as he disappears behind the bathroom door.

The drive home was awkward to say the least. Eddie, Robin and Vickie all sensing the tension, but knowing better than to bring it up in front of you. When you arrive back in Hawkins, Steve drops everyone off at their respective homes, saving you for last.

“Thanks again for offering to drive,” you move to open the door but are interrupted by Steve, “Here, let me help with your bags. I’ll walk you to the door.”

You don’t fight him as he takes every bag from you, not even allowing you to carry your own purse. He stands on your porch with you, clammy hands shoved tightly into his pockets, for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“I’d better…you know, get going,” you nod in the direction of your house. “Yeah, yeah okay,” he pulls you into a warm bear hug; his specialty. The gesture feels different. An air of bashfulness radiating from both of you. When you pull away, he has an indistinguishable look in his eyes as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His gaze flits quickly from your eyes, to your lips, and back again.

You fear that he might kiss you. That he might change everything. That you might let him.

Clearing your throat abruptly, it seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in and he looks just as startled as you do, taking a step back.

“Alright! Bye Steve! Love you!” you rush out as you practically shove your bags inside your foyer and slam the door. As you lean against it, you hear a muttered ‘shit’ as he makes his way back to his car.

Now

New Years Eve

1987

Despite the party being relatively small, just your friend group and a few friends of friends, the house was lively with music and laughter. On the television inside Steve’s entertainment center was the CBS broadcast of the New Years Eve ball drop in New York City.

A game of ‘spin the bottle’ was being played on the floor of the living room. “For old time’s sake!’ Eddie had claimed. You were skeptical, but a boy in the group whose name might have been James, had caught your eye earlier in the night. You thought maybe this could be it. After years of pointless or just downright awful dates, maybe this would be the ‘meet-cute’ you’d been waiting for.

‘Little Lies’ by Fleetwood Mac was playing distantly from the speakers in the kitchen, and then it was finally your turn to spin. You glance up at James before you take your turn, watching him throw a smirk in your direction. What you can’t see, is Steve in your peripheral glaring daggers at him. He’d watched him flirt with you all night, whether you’d realized it or not. It had completely soured his mood, and edged him to pick a fight even if he knew it wouldn’t be fair.

You give the empty coke bottle on the carpet a tentative spin, making it clear who you're aiming for; and when it lands on James, no one’s surprised. Slowly, you rise onto your knees and crawl forward with your hands, just far enough for you to reach out to him. The vodka in your stomach makes you brave as you reach for his face with both hands, and kiss him deeply. He tastes like cigarettes and spearmint gum when he licks into your mouth, earning the two of you wolf whistles and hollers from your surrounding circle of friends.

When the adolescent game is abandoned, your friends opting for one that gets them drunk faster, you decide to sit out for a round. Steve had been muddling around the kitchen for the past 30 minutes, pretending to clean up nonexistent solo cups and dishes.

‘Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies’

“Hey,” you say lightheartedly as you sit down on one of the stools surrounding the island. If Steve heard you, he didn’t acknowledge your presence.

“So, are you two together?” he still doesn’t bother turning to look at you when he asks.

“What?”

He finally looks at you, expression is unreadable, “You and fuckin’ Bruce Springsteen over there. Are you together?”

What? Dude no-- I barely know him,”

“Sure looked like you knew him with his damn tongue down your throat.” he spits, turning back to the nearly empty garbage bag he had been pretending to throw things in to busy his hands.

He could count on one hand the amount of times you two had genuinely argued, and the heat crawling the back of his neck was starting to feel an awful lot like guilt.

“I’m sorry, what the hell is your problem?” you spit back at him, getting defensive now.

He glares at you, long and hard, “Nothing just-- nevermind. Forget it,”

What's that saying? ‘Loose lips sink ships’? You think what might sink this ship is you, and too much alcohol.

“No. You do not get to do that,” your words slur together ever so slightly, alcohol churning in your stomach, “that’s not fair.” Tears prick the corners of your eye, your voice wobbling at the end of your sentence. It practically tears him in two.

Before he can get a word in edgewise, you’re vomiting a drunken confession. One you swore you’d never make, on the basis that it could change everything you and Steve worked so hard to build.

“God forbid I get to be happy right? That after years! Fucking years, Steve, of pining after you, that someone might like me! That someone might give me the goddamn time of day. That I might love someone who isn’t you!”

“What?” The sincerity and the slight quiver in his tone is almost enough to completely extinguish your anger. If you were fire, Steve was water. He was your Achilles Heel.

The realization of what you just confessed hits you a second too late, and even though you’re practically shouting, you have no one's attention except for Steve’s. Swiping your drink off the granite countertop you storm through the sliding glass door that leads to the Harringtons’ spacious backyard, deciding you need some air. Need to be anywhere except in that stifling kitchen with Steve.

“Wait no– please,” you hear Steve call after you. You don’t stop, you don’t turn around. Beelining for the gate that leads to the driveway, and then to the road. The January air was frigid; it gnawed and bit harshly at your exposed skin but you didn’t care. You just needed to be home.

You could hear Steve’s heavy footfall not far behind you, he was jogging to keep up. Not a chance that he was letting you walk home alone. Someday the world will end, and it will feel just like this does. You spin around to face him, cheeks stained with black streaks of mascara and nose bright red from the cold.

“Y/N!” He sounded desperate calling after you. He felt desperate. Standing there in the middle of his empty, suburban street – Steve felt terribly, consumingly desperate.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Steve strides towards you with a determination you’ve never seen in him. Before you can blink, his warm hands are grasping both sides of your face and his lips are crashing into yours with a passion that only comes from longing. A fervor that only comes from pining and anticipation.

When he pulls away he looks frightened; like he had come to his senses. Before he can start to ramble apologies, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him back with the same ferocity he met you with moments ago.

He stumbles back with you, only separating for measly gasps of air between kisses and suddenly you feel the cool metal of his BMW against your exposed back. Strong arms cage you in as he fumbles with the door to the backseat. You don’t hesitate to climb in after him when he finally manages it open.

Straddling him on soft leather, your thighs bracketed each of his. His lips move south as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the column of your neck, to just below your ear, to your collarbones.

His hands travel slowly up your thighs, and just before breaching the hem on your dress he pants, “Is this okay?” You relish in how wrecked he sounds already, barely having touched you yet. You respond with a breathy ‘yes’.

His nimble fingers find the zipper of your dress in a blissful sense of deja vu. This time though, there’s an eagerness in his touch. A need to map every inch of your skin like he’s committing it to memory.

He slows for a moment, like you both remembered the situation you’ve found yourselves in. His usual hazel eyes have darkened to a deep brown that sucks you in; their very own gravitational pull. He pulls the sleeves of your dress slowly down your shoulders and glances up in a silent ask before letting the fabric fall the rest of the way; exposing your breasts. Just as his eyes are raking over your newly exposed skin – as if he has a sixth sense for being cockblocked – he reverses his action; making an effort to cover you before you hear a ‘tap tap tap’ on the fogged window. 

Behind the glass is a blurry picture of Robin and Eddie. To say they look smug is an understatement.

“Fucking finally,” Eddie says, exasperated. You try to hide from your embarrassment in the crook of Steve’s neck, like a kid having been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Robin sends you a poorly concealed wink as she elbows Eddie’s ribs – even more poorly concealed.

“C’mon. You owe me ten bucks,” you hear her mumble as the pair saunter away from the BMW, leaving you and Steve back to your ‘nefarious activities’ as Robin would say.

You try to protest at Steve rezipping your dress but he cuts you off before your complaints, “I’m not having sex with you for the first time in my car,” he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“If you insist,” teasing him a little, you poke his chest, “Bruce Springsteen,”

“Not funny,” he tries to deadpan, but the smirk permanently on his lips gives him away, “You know I'm way more of a Tom Cruise.”

[alphabetboyluvr]

LANDSLIDES - 002 | GUILTY AS SIN - JJK

part title credit: guilty as sin - taylor swift

these fatal fantasies giving way to laboured breath... they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly... without ever touching his skin how can i be guilty as sin?

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn’t ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he’s yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being ‘you’ to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do. (part one link)

warnings: slow burn (emphasis on slow, emphasis on burn), miscommunication, missed opportunities, missing jungkook, inappropriate mentions of masturbation between friends, frustration (sexually and emotionally!)

wordcount: 18K

note from holly: this was supposed to be a 30k chunk but the 1000 paragraph limit told me no </3 so instead, this is part 1 - part 2 will come tomorrow :)

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

When Jungkook comes to stand by your desk, his freshly pressed suit unspoiled from his morning commute and with a coffee in either hand, you know he must be up to something.

"Let me guess," you hum. "You dipped your nib in the company ink again and need me to do damage control?"

It wouldn't be the first time, and the new secretary has been ogling him ever since she started just before the Chuseok break. You've joked about it a few times, but you really wouldn't put it past him.

Popping your coffee on your desk, Jungkook toys with his tie a little, smoothing it down. "Why do you always think so little of me, you little gremlin?"

His pouty whine would be believable if you didn't know him as well as you do. Glancing up from your screen, you're greeted with a smirk. Even he can't keep up his pretence of innocence. "You know exactly why."

"I'm a good boy," he promises. "Got you coffee and everything this morning!"

"Because you want something," you laugh. "I wasn't born yesterday, Jungkook."

"Can a friend not get a friend a coffee just because?"

"Yes—but you don't."

In fact, Jungkook normally waits until midday for his first coffee. Treats it like a reward for getting through the morning without any caffeine. He's gone out of his way today—or just ordered coffee to the office to make it look like he has. Regardless, an effort has been made.

He takes a second. Purses his lips. Narrows his eyes.And then he smiles. "Fine. I need a favour."

"See, I knew it was too good to be true!"

"Oh, c'mon!" He laughs. "I'd get you coffee if you asked."

"I asked last week when I was running late, and you told me to wake up earlier and get it myself!"

"Well, it was your own fault for being out until arse o'clock in the morning!"

Your fault, you think but don't vocalise. It's not like you'd been out with him. You'd been on a date. Another with Mingyu. Hadn't stuck to your word of cooling things off. Spooked yourself with those dreams about Jungkook. Needed to bring yourself back to reality.

If he hadn't asked you to dogsit, you never would have gotten so caught in the domestication of it all. It's your biggest weakness and he damn well knows it. If anything, he should be thanking you for choosing to realign your focus instead of leaning into silly little thoughts about him. It also helps that in the cold, harsh light of Monday mornings, the thoughts just make you cringe more than anything.

"Sorry, Dad," you roll your eyes. "Didn't realise I had to ask your permission."

Jungkook's lips purse in the gentlest of ways, corners upturning ever so slightly. He shakes his head. "You're cranky this morning."

"And you're up to something," you reply. Have barely even had a chance to look over your weekend emails yet, let alone prepare yourself for Jungkook being a nuisance. His department is two floors up. There's no need for him to be here.

In the corner of your screen, an email pings through. Though your glance is quick, it connects a flurry of dots together.

Subject: International Food Expo - we're in!

The company you work at is the head office of a chain restaurant. Jungkook works in franchising—negotiations, specifically. Gets the restaurant placed in the best locations. Recently landed a spot in Starfield Mall. Got himself a nice little bonus.

You're over in the interior design team. It's a small cohort, just three of you, but you're responsible for ensuring cohesion amongst all the spaces. It's up to you that customers get the same feel whether they're in Seoul or Sokcho.

Both starting the job at the same time, directly after graduation, Jungkook had approached you with a strategy in mind. Roped you into creating the interior mood boards and mapping out the spaces before they'd even been acquired. Gave life to them that made it so much easier for investors to imagine.

It had been seen by management as a waste of resources before then—why waste time creating hypotheticals?

They just hadn't yet experienced Jungkook, and all of his charm, pitching for them, using your content to tip negotiations in his favour. It's a partnership that works. Is a practice now adopted by the company across the board, thanks to the pair of you. It's why you work together so often, even if you're on completely different floors and dealing with such vastly different tasks.

"I've been asked to go along," he says, nodding towards the screen. "Little old me is our brand ambassador for the week."

"Congrats," you beam, knowing that Jungkook is the best man for the job. He loves the company. Really believes in the restaurant. Clicking into the email, you scan the details. "A week of schmoozing, huh? However will you cope?"

He's about to joke about how tiresome it'll be, but then you hum in confusion.

"Jeju?" You question, looking at the location. You scroll, just to check you aren't imagining things—but there it is, clear as day. Location: International Conference Center, Jeju. "All the way in bloody Jeju?!"

"It's for international markets," he says, putting his best guess out there. "Seoul's been done a hundred times over for different Expos. Busan, too. I think they're trying to attract more foreign companies—and would the CEO's rather send themselves on city breaks or island getaways? Anyway, that's actually the favour I wanted to ask you..."

It all sort of clicks into place, now. "Bam?"

With a sweet nod, Jungkook offers a gentle smile. "You know there's no one I'd rather look after him. The trip is four days, Tuesday to Friday. If it's too much, I can book him into a kennel, but—"

"No," you shake your head. "Don't do that. You know I'm happy to look after him."

"Sure?"

Jungkook would rather die than leave Bam at a Kennel for the week. He doesn't trust anyone with his baby unless they've proved themselves, but the way you happily cuddle up with Bam on the floor of Jungkook's apartment on any given day of the week is proof enough to him that you love him, too.

If he's gonna trust anyone with his most prized possession, it'd be you.

"One condition," you bargain, 'cause you know that you can. Jungkook'll do anything to have you agree.

"Go on..."

"Have you replaced all the cheese I ate last time I looked after him?"

He narrows his eyes. "Yes."

"Good," you beam. "And could you be a babe and make me some of your pad kee mao? The sauce at least? I can do the rest."

If there's one thing Jungkook will never fail to impress you with, it's his cooking—but your favourite of all of his dishes is his Thai drunken chicken noodles. He imports the special basil needed for it. Goes an extra mile to make sure it's just right. You haven't been to your favourite Thai place since you learned just how well he makes the dish. Will just send him a text when you fancy it, and end up at his place an hour or so later with beers from the convenience store and ice cream sandwiches to chuck in his freezer for dessert.

"That it?" He laughs. "Cheese and noodles? God, you are easily pleased."

"I'm a woman of refined tastes," you say, pompously poised.

Jungkook knows you well enough to know you're no such thing, but he needs this favour, so he doesn't bite. Just says, "And you're sure?"

"I'm sure," you promise. "Now leave me alone. I've got work to do—and thanks for the coffee."

He nods, that little smile of his affecting you far more than it really should. You can't help it. The lighting in your office is far nicer than the rest of the establishment. Makes him look... well, makes him look like himself. Like 'home' Jungkook. The same one who hangs out with you in sweats and messy hair on Sunday mornings, not the suited and clean-shaven Jungkook who swaggers through the corridors of your workplace.

Three of you work in your specific office, and you're all interior designers. Changing the bulbs was one of the first things you did. Lea, your manager, is the most senior in your team. Below you is Jiwon. A fresh graduate, she's still learning the ropes, and as much as you like her, you really wish she wouldn't go all heart-eyed over Jungkook every time he enters the room.

It's not her fault. The warm bulbs just bring out all of those terrible, intrusive little stars in his chocolatey brown eyes. They're terrible, 'cause they're stolen from other people; intrusive, 'cause as he walks away and your gaze follows him, it seems like they've landed in your eyes, too. A secret shared that neither of you even realises exists.

"How do you do it?" Jiwon sighs once Jungkook is out of earshot. "I'd melt if he looked at me like that."

"He looks at everyone like that," you deflect. "And trust me, he's just as disgusting as he is charming. Don't let the tailored suits fool you."

It's been a little while since Jungkook last used the copier room for indecent affairs that would have gotten anyone else into a meeting with HR. Workplace violations are far easier to get away with when you're doing them with someone from the HR department, after all.

Jiwon joined the team just as Jungkook was curbing his bad behaviour. Granted, you know about more of it than most, but everyone who was lucky enough to grab his attention for more than five seconds used it as bragging rights for months.

One thing that you did enjoy about Jungkook's slut era was the lack of women he ever took home. Didn't want to introduce new people to Bam, if they were only going to be fleeting endeavours.

But you're his friend, not a casual fuck. He knew that bringing you into the fold wouldn't be fast nor fleeting. It'd be a lifetime kinda thing.

Which is what makes you feel so guilty as you stand by the water cooler a little later that morning, daydreaming about being back in his space again. Silly little thoughts about facetime calls when you were wrapped up in his sheets, and he was back at his parents' place in Busan. Memories of lazing the days away with Bam, and the look on Jungkook's face as he finally arrived home after a few days away.

You've seen him at home a million times over, but there was something different about him then. Serene. At peace. You know that he was probably just happy to be back with his baby, and tired from driving, but the lazy smile that had hung off his lips, round glasses framing his equally round eyes, just seemed... new.

Your thoughts are cut off by your boss—not Lea, but your actual boss, Mr Seo—calling you into his office. A little flustered, you realise that you've been running the water for too long. Your bottle has overfilled, and the excess tray is almost full, too.

"Hi," you greet him all rather pleasantly, waiting to be told to sit before you actually do so. "What can I help you with?"

A burly man in his late 50s, he built the brand from the ground up. It's been his life's work, and so he's selective with his staff. If you aren't pulling your weight to make the company a success, then he doesn't want you tying your name to it.

When you and Jungkook started going rogue in the early days, he hadn't been happy—but Jungkook had blagged a probation extension for the pair of you. Had told Mr Seo he'd work for free, if he could just prove his strategy would work.

In the version of events Jungkook tells you, he pretends that Mr Seo agreed without docking his pay. Filed away in the back of his cabinet which houses his contracts, past and present, Jungkook has a written agreement with Mr Seo, and a month's worth of missing wages in his salary from that year.

Your pay was never docked, though. Jungkook's a damn good negotiator, and was just as competent back then, too. He was the one that got you into that damn mess in the first place, so it was only fair that he keep you as clean as he could.

What you do know is that you both cut it incredibly fine to losing your jobs before they ever really began. While Mr Seo respects you both for what you've done for the company since then, it still scares you a little bit.

"I trust you've seen the email regarding the Expo, yes?" He says, nodding towards the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

You take it in a hurried fashion, quickly sitting down because, quite frankly, it feels like your legs are jelly. "Yes, yes. Very exciting! I'm sure Jungkook will bring the company great results."

He nods. Agrees. "And I also trust you've been making plans for our stand?"

You learned of the expo approximately fifty minutes prior. Like fuck have you made any plans.

"Oh, of course!" You bullshit. "As long as we can work out the logistics with shipping our materials to the island in time, it should be brilliant."

How the fuck you're supposed to plan a stand at an Expo for a week's time on a different bloody island is beyond you.

You'll get it done. You always do. You'll just be incredibly stressed about it until the event begins.

"Naturally," he nods. I know the turnaround is tight, so we'd like you to go with Jungkook to oversee the preparations. He arrives on Tuesday, but the event doesn't start until Wednesday evening, so you'll have a day to finalise things."

"Oh," you say, unable to hide your surprise.

"Flight and accommodation will be covered by us, and Jungkook's getting a healthy bonus for any deals signed at the Expo—I'm sure we can make a cut for you, too. After all, you two are our very own dream team."

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. You want to go. Of course you want to. A trip to Jeju with one of your closest friends? Under the guise of work? All expenses paid? Who wouldn't want to go?!

But without you in the city, there's no one to look after Bam. Sure, Jungkook could take him to a kennel, but you know what he's like. He'll spend the entire time stressed. Won't be able to relax and engage with people in such a way that deals will be cut. Punters usually like him for his carefree nature. Without it? Well, you're sure they'd like him all the same, but you don't want to tempt fate.

"Mr Seo," you awkwardly begin, uncertain which answer will slip out of your mouth. "I'm afraid I already have commitments in the city that I can't cancel. I'm not available."

Silence lingers for a moment. Just a second. It feels like an eternity.

"Very well," he accepts.

"I'm sorry," you quickly apologise, knowing that you probably look like an ungrateful employee. If there's one thing you are, it's a fixer, and so before you can even comprehend what you're saying, you're throwing solutions into the void. "But I know Jiwon is just itching to get more involved with different sides of the business. I can get her on board with my planning this week and coach her on Jungkook's strategies. I'm sure she'd be eager to work hard, if she were given the opportunity."

Mr Seo mulls over your proposition—one of you which you already regret—then nods. "Alright. I'll trust your judgement. Can you send her down to my office?"

"Sure!" You say with a little too much glee, before you retreat back to your office with your tail between your legs. Lea is at a meeting, so once Jiwon has been sent on her way, it's just you, your water bottle, and a whole lot of regret.

Laying your head on your desk, you let out a little whimper.

It's for the best. For the company, for Jungkook, for you. For the sanctity of your friendship. For your sanity.

A message dinging through on your work chat interrupts your self-pity party. Glancing up, head still on the desk, you see Jungkook's name in the corner of your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: oi you little gremlin

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: i could have booked him into a kennel

"Shut up," you groan at your screen.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: it would have been fun :(

Sitting up with a sigh, you poise yourself to send a message back. Find that nothing wants to come out. Your fingers hover above your keyboard with uncertainty. Takes a full minute before you can muster anything up.

Two floors above you, Jungkook is slumped in his desk chair. Has an office of his own, 'cause it's easier for the amount of meetings he has.

In the background of his screen, an email thread with Mr Seo details how Jungkook was the one to ask Mr Seo if you could join him. Explained how it just made sense. Offered part of his bonus package up with it. Said he'd cover the extra expenses if necessary, but that he thought it would be beneficial to the company to have you there, too.

While you're the person Jungkook trusts the most with Bam, you're not the only one. He could always ask Jimin or Taehyung before resorting to a kennel.

As your reply comes through, another email from Mr Seo is delivered, too.

RE: IFE JEJU, Interior Des. Department

Jungkook—

Have spoken with Jiwon. She will accompany you.

Any problems, let me know.

Mr Seo

With a sigh, Jungkook shakes his head. This isn't what he wanted at all.

And when he checks your message, he only frowns even deeper. Unlike you, he's renamed your contact details on his list. Everyone else still has their work-focused username.

Gremlin: It's your lucky day

Gremlin: You get a hot young thing to keep you company instead, wooo

Gremlin: HR if you're reading this, ignore it

Gremlin: Try not to be too miserable without me

He sinks down a little further into his chair. Purses his lips. Would far rather be alone than with anyone that isn't you.

Chewing on his bottom lip, he decides that maybe this is for the best. While he does think it would be good for the company, he knows that isn't why he suggested it. He just remembers what happened last time he spent more than a weekend away from you. Is scared it'll happen again.

Or maybe it's the opposite. Maybe he wants it to happen again. Just you and him, away from the confines of life as you know it.

Thing is, you'd have to return home at some point. If anything ever happened between you both, it'd change the very fabric of your friendship. He doesn't want that.

So instead, he decides to reply in the same way he would have done maybe a year or so prior.

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: She'll fall in love with me

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: They always do

Jeon Jungkook, Franchising: Don't say I didn't warn you.

In the warm lighting of Jungkook's living room, the main light is off, lamps providing you with just enough clarity to go over the files on his coffee table.

Over by the sink, Jungkook is washing up your plates from dinner, while Bam leans against his legs. Your overnight bag is still by the door, and Jungkook's glasses are in your hair, keeping it out of your eyes. Highlighter in hand, you're picking out key markets for Jungkook to make contact with over in Jeju.

"Avoid Babiyeo," you tell him, switching over to a thin red pen, putting a star next to their name.

"As in the leisure centres?" Jungkook hums, familiar with the company but not well-versed. The soft melody of his playlist carries a tune around you both, keeping your thoughts connected and in sync.

"Mhmm," you say, flicking over to the next paper. "The CEO's son is in legal trouble at the moment. They're keeping it fairly well covered up, but to do that they're making huge expansions they can't afford. Keeping the news positive, things like that. I reckon they'll go bust before the end of the year."

"Shit," Jungkook lets a breathy laugh escape his lips. Had no idea—but you've both got friends working in various industries. Have your arms dipped into numerous grapevines. Drying up the last of his bowls, he turns to face you and is unable to continue on with his words.

He gets it. Understands why domestication is your biggest vice when it comes to feeling things you shouldn't.

"Acorn Limited are also bad news," you add, putting a little star next to their name.

"Yeah?"

Jungkook puts the now-dry bowl on the counter and walks towards where you're sitting on his living room floor. He joins. Sits on the opposite side of the table. Lets Bam clamber over his legs, and encourages him to sit, too.

"Yeah," you nod, then look across at Jungkook. "They're a hot-shot protein company. Are trying to get themselves partnerships with different restaurants. The guy running it is some twat from Singles Inferno. Company'll be done by the next quarter."

"Some of them do alright, y'know. Reality stars are raking it in—"

"He's besties with the Babiyeo CEO's son," you tell him with a knowing smile. "Kept getting pictured together outside clubs. Whatever baby Babiyeo has been up to, I'm willing to bet the acorn guy has been, too."

Jungkook presses his lips together. Accepts your expertise. Nods, then sighs, "You should be coming on the trip. I can't do this without you."

Yes, he can. He's more than capable. Has closed more deals than most people have had hot dinners.

What he means is that he doesn't want to do it without you, but admitting such a thing verges on territory that Jungkook doesn't feel comfortable entering.

In the house he likes to call his mind, he's bolted the door of the annexe. Occasionally, he will sit and stare at the locks. Wonder if maybe he made a mistake locking you—or more specifically, the idea of you—away in there.

But then he watches Bam choose to shuffle around to your side of the coffee table, and watches as he rests his head on your leg. His snout is by your knee, sniffing at your bare skin with his wet nose. There's something familiar about you. Safe. You don't smell like Jungkook, but you still manage to smell like home, in a way.

"Bam would be even more lost without me," you softly say, scratching behind his ear, and it does admittedly give Jungkook a little solace.

"True," Jungkook accepts, then sighs.

It's getting late and he's got to be up early for his flight. Is leaving for his flight at just gone 3AM, so you're staying over. Crashing on the couch, 'cause having a home gym was more important than setting up a spare room. Thankfully you've never known a couch to be so cosy. Have fallen asleep on it a dozen times over, and it's yet to make you ache in the mornings.

It's all very normal, how you set into a routine. He lets you wash up first. Sorts out Bam while you sort out yourself. Doesn't need to, but writes you out a list of feeding times and emergency numbers. Grabs a spare blanket—one Bam hasn't slept on, but by the morning definitely will have—and turns the sofa into something that really does resemble a bed.

"Sure you're gonna be alright out here?" He asks when you come back through.

He ignores the teeny tiny shirt and even tinier shorts you like to call pyjamas. Or at least he does as much as he can. Doesn't mean to look at your ass. Does it regardless. Four times.

"Yeah," you promise, grabbing a bottle of water from his fridge. There are containers full of his speciality noodle sauce and enough cheese to keep you very happy for the next few days. He got an extra block of the one he knows you like the most as a thank you. "Go to bed. Get your beauty sleep, uggers."

"Hey, you need it just as much as I do," he assures you, then tips his head and makes a small click with his tongue. "C'mon, Bammie, bedtime."

The sound of his paws tapping across Jungkook's hardwood floors is ever-so-soothing. It's hard to be in a house with a pet and not inherently feel like home, you think.

"Night night, Bammie," you coo after him. He turns back. Tilts his head, just like his daddy. Trots on over to you for a few more scratches behind his ears. Doesn't leave until you tell him, "Go find your daddy."

Glancing up to Jungkook with a sweet little scrunch of your nose, you hadn't called him that name to take the piss for a change. The scrunch of your nose is actually an outward display of your inward cringe. Jungkook just scrunches his up right back.

"Gross," he whispers, then holds his hand out for Bam to sniff. "Night, Gremlin."

"Night, Kook."

The sharp sound of Bam's bark snaps you awake. The room is dark, but enough light bleeds in through the blinds for you to see Jungkook awkwardly trying to shush him. Rucksack slung over one shoulder, he's holding a bag with his other hand.

"Leaving without saying bye?" You sleepily mumble, rubbing at your eyes with a yawn.

"Didn't wanna wake you," he whispers. Bam, apparently, had different ideas. "He knows I'm leaving."

"What time is it?" you ask, still totally out of it.

"Just gone three," Jungkook says. It'll take him an hour to get across to Incheon, and even though he knows it won't take him much time to get through security, he still likes to be on time. Would have been easier if he was flying from Gimpo, but he's guessing Incheon must have been cheaper.

Nodding, you adjust your body to sit up, and reach out for one of the files on the coffee table. Hold it across for him.

Popping down his bags, Jungkook takes it with great interest.

"Here. I was having a think before bed. Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him," you mumble, thoughts not really cognitive, but you've written it all down for him regardless. "Talk to him about the K-league, or something, I dunno. I reckon Mr Seo would shit his pants if we expanded into stadiums and sports venues."

Jungkook flicks over the notes. Nods. Doesn't know how the fuck you manage to find out half the shit you do, but knows you're wasted on the interior design department.

"See," he softly whines. "This is why you should be coming with me."

"You'll be fine," you promise him, then yawn a little bit all over again. You woke up at the worst possible time.

"You can take my bed, y'know," Jungkook offers. "I'll be gone in a minute or so. It's all yours."

Would be weird getting into his bed while it's still warm, you think.

Shaking your head, terribly covering a yawn, you insist it's fine. He begs to differ, so you double down—until all very suddenly, your notes are tossed onto the sofa beside you, and Jungkook is pulling you over his shoulder. Yelping from the surprise, you don't have time to cognitively respond, let alone demand to be put down.

He wouldn't listen anyways. Instead, he walks you across to his room, and tosses you down on his half-made bed. It's a little haphazard, he finds himself leaning a little too far forward. Almost ends up on there with you. Finds that his blood pumps just a little faster through his veins for a nanosecond.

God, he wishes he wasn't leaving.

Or that you were coming with him, at least.

Can't bear to tear himself away from you when you're all sleepy and sweet and—Oh get a grip, man.

"There," he says triumphantly, pushing his thoughts well out of reach. "Now, go back to sleep, alright? I'll let you know when I fly."

Sitting up on your heels, you find yourself unsure of how to say goodbye—and so you don't really say much at all. Just mumble, "Fly safe."

"Will do," he nods, then exits his room to give Bam a farewell that is just as rough and tumble as yours had been. "Be good for the gremlin, Bammie."

"Fuck off!" You call through, knowing that you'll forever be known as a gremlin, even on your deathbed, you're sure. Tucking yourself under his duvet, you're secretly comforted by how warm his bed still is. Smells just like him, too. "Bye Kook."

"Sleep tight!"

With that, the door slams shut, and everything feels a little colder. Bam whines by the door. Scratches at it a little. Begs for Jungkook to come home.

"Bammie," you call through. "C'mere!"

The way he excitedly bounds through Jungkook's apartment and jumps up onto the bed is borderline comical. He's not used to people being in the house after Jungkook goes out. Thought he was alone—but now he knows he's not, he's quite content. Nuzzles his snout into the duvet and flops his body down on yours. Doesn't realise he's not still a puppy, but you don't mind.

Moments like these make you realise that you definitely did make the right decision.

But moments that come a little later fill you with regret—like the picture that is sent to the office by Jungkook on the work messenger. Working hard or hardly working? He captions it.

The photo is of the booth that's been set up to look like a beach house version of the restaurant. The intention was for it to look like a 'Jeju' branch, of which you're yet to open— but it looks bloody fantastic. How you were able to wrangle contractors and suppliers in such a last-minute rush was nothing short of a miracle.

And yet—

Good work guys!

Wow, looks great!

Jungkook and Jiwon, doing us proud!

Dream team! Good luck!

It's that last one that really bothers you. Dream team. Exactly what you and Jungkook have always been called in the office—but you're easily replaced, apparently. It's your own fault. You're the one who said she should go instead.

It doesn't stop you from walking around with a face of thunder for the whole day. Not a scrap of work gets done. All you can do is lament your choices.

Still, you get to go home to Bam, and that does admittedly soften the blow.

"Show me him," Jungkook immediately whines when he calls later that evening.

You shake your head. "Tell me about the day first."

"That's so not fair."

"Quicker you tell me, quicker I show–"

"Fine," he scowls at you, but softens his expression almost immediately. Yawns. His shoulders press up to his ears as the rest of his face scrunches up. He's lying down on his hotel bed, the crisp white sheets not too dissimilar from his ones back home that you'll be curled up in later that night. "The set up was fine. Most of the vendors are here already. I'm so mad we didn't manage to snag a slot in the catering tent, yanno? Give people a chance to try our menu, but whatever. There's always next year, right?"

"Right," you nod. Yawn, too—and then adorably so does Bam. "It's our first year there. We're just making our presence known. Bigger and better things next year."

"Exactly. Now show me Bam."

His impatience makes you smile. You're just about to tap the switch camera icon, when a sweet, feminine voice echoes through your speaker.

"Did you say something, Jungkook?"

He glances over the sound of the voice, and then flicks his eyes back to you. Gets a read on your face as quickly as he can before you flip the camera, 'cause you're not really sure how much your face is giving away, but you know your surprise wasn't hidden.

"Er, no," he says to the girl. "Just checking in back home—"

"Oh, is that your puppy?" the voice, of which you know all too well, squeals. There's a slight ruffle of sheets as Jiwon tucks herself beside Jungkook. Hair a little damp, the straps of her top are loose against her skin. "Oh my gosh, isn't he the sweetest."

"Isn't he just?" you reply with a smile so fucking fake that it's a good job the camera isn't on you. There's a look on Jungkook's face that you don't really understand. He almost looks guilty—but there's nothing to feel guilty about. He can do what he likes. "Gonna take him for a walk in a bit, then I'm just gonna pop out for half an hour to see Mingyu."

"Are you taking Bam with you?" Jungkook asks, brows a little hard, the ridge between them nicely defined.

"Hadn't planned on it," you chirp, your face just as hard as his. "But I can take him to meet Mingyu, if you like?"

Jungkook swallows. Tries to pretend as if his jaw isn't tense. Is incredibly stern when he says, "Rather him not meet new people when I'm not around."

"Sure," you say, then flick the camera back to you. Are pleased to see nonchalance sitting prettily on your features, no matter how perplexed you might feel."I should be off, though! Call me if you need anything."

"Wait!" Jiwon says quickly, clearly unaware of the weirdness between you and Jungkook. She sees you bickering all the time, so must just figure this is what you're like when you're not ripping each other's heads off. "Just wanted to say thank you—I'm so glad I'm here."

Jungkook's eyes focus on your face as Jiwon gives even more thanks. He doesn't understand the sudden attitude you've developed. All he wanted was to see Bam, but you've a face like a slapped arsed and are trying to hang up. It's fuckin' rude, and if Jiwon wasn't there, he'd tell you so.

He lets you hang up. Doesn't ask you to stay.

"She alright?" Jiwon innocent chirps after you go. "She seems a little..."

"Just tired," Jungkook dismisses. "I woke her up at like, three this morning when I was leaving."

"Oh? She was at your place?"

It's really none of Jiwon's business, but Jungkook chalks it up to her being young, and unaware of when to keep her mouth shut.

"Yeah," he states definitively and plainly, ending the conversation. Heads to the bathroom to clear his head. Turns the shower up to just as hot as the one at his house has been ever since you left his apartment the last time.

'Cause Jungkook's been lying to himself.

There's no lock on the damn annexe. Or at least not from the outside.

The annexe has everything he needs. He's been sitting there, inside, quite comfortably with you for a little while now.

He really did think you were gonna call things off with Mingyu.

Is unaware that Mingyu got left on read four days ago after another dull, fruitless 'how was your day', 'fine thanks, and you?' conversation. As hot as he may be, he doesn't challenge you. Excite you. Anger you. Make you feel any kind of passion.

Which is funny, 'cause you find yourself reaching for a bottle of wine that you know is far too expensive for a Tuesday night glass, just to piss Jungkook off from afar and well in advance of him ever realising what you've done.

Just like you mentioned going to see Mingyu just to get a reaction out of Jungkook.

Childish as it may be, you feel threatened. People praising Jiwon in your place already made you feel insecure at work, and now she's in his hotel room in a state of near undress? Something about it just irks you.

It shouldn't.

It shouldn't, it shouldn't, it shouldn't.

But it does.

And so you spend your evening on Jungkook's couch with cheese, wine and Bam. Put Love, Rosie on, 'cause it's your favourite guilty pleasure film and you think it'll cheer you up.

Instead, you end up silently sobbing by the halfway point, Bam only snuggling into you even further. Can understand that you're upset. Comforts in the only way he knows how.

Sleep is hard to come by that evening. You're full of wine and cheese, so it should be easy. Lights out as soon as you close your eyes—but you toss and turn, and with every move, the scent of him wafts even deeper into your senses. Any further and it might just enter your bloodstream. Seep down into your heart.

By the time morning comes, you feel even more rotten than you did the night before. Have slept on it all. Know that he hasn't done anything wrong, which only makes you feel even more stupid for being so annoyed.

You've also slept on the idea he might have slept with Jiwon. It wouldn't be out of character, but it would be the first person in your department he's shagged. It's always been out of bounds. He knows this. For the same reason you wouldn't shag anyone he works closely with. It'd just be weird. Make meetings uncomfortable.

When you call on your walk that morning, you half hope he won't pick up.

But he does. He always will.

"Hey," he says a little breathlessly. A towel is whipped over his shoulder, sweat dappling his skin. There's something so devastatingly beautiful about mid-workout Jungkook. "Sorry, didn't think you'd call."

Almost as if you're looking for reasons to be annoyed, you take offence to this.

"I always call?"

"Well, yeah, but you were so fuckin' weird last night," he laughs, heading out of the gym and into an empty corridor of the hotel.

"I wasn't anything," you reply back with a scowl—and realise how terribly you're hiding your annoyance. Flick the camera over so it focuses on Bam as he trots along the path. "Just tired."

It's the same excuse he bullshitted to Jiwon. Knows you're talking bollocks.

"Even Jiwon asked what was wrong with you—"

"Oh, well I'm terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Jungkook," you snap, completely unjustified. It's too late, though. You've started. Have to see it through. "But if you don't mind, I'm responsible for your pet right now and I'd rather not be having this conversation when I need to be focusing on a million other things at once."

"Fine," Jungkook snaps right back. All he wants is to see Bam, but he doesn't want to be having this conversation either. "But you know what? Don't bother calling back until you've taken that stick out from up your arse."

You shouldn't be surprised when Jungkook hangs up.

But you are.

For the second time in as many days, you find yourself crying. 

Oh, it's all so pathetic! And stupid! There's no need for it, you think.

Thankfully you're not too far from home—Jungkook's home, that is—so you can cut the walk a little short as long as you come home at lunch to check on Bam, too.

You don't even really understand why you're fighting with him. Wish you weren't.

When Jungkook zips open his suit bag as he's getting ready for the Expo opening ceremony, he finds himself wishing just the same.

Tucked on top of his blazer is a brand new tie; one of which he most definitely did not put there. 

An incredibly muted bronze and black paisley pattern swirls over the material, and on top rests a note.

Jungkook rubs his face with a flat palm. Rakes it through his hair. Swallows back the awkward heat prickling at his eyes and the tickle in his throat. Doesn't wanna bawl.

But then he reads the note, and he just can't stop himself.

Dad!!!

You're gonna do great!!!!

Come home soon tho :(((((

Woof woof!!!!!!!

Your Bammie <333

P.S. I'm colour blind but the gremlin said this one is the same colour as me!!! Do you miss me??? I miss you!!!!!

The first time you had ever learned of Jungkook's tattoos was in a dive bar a few blocks over from work. It was just after you'd pulled off your first deal together—the one that set your working relationship in stone—and you'd both been blowing off steam.

The walls were red, and so were your cheeks, blushed from the heat of what it felt like to sit beside him in a tatty booth.

So used to sitting across from him at meeting tables, something about it changed your dynamic. Any threats of being on opposing teams were whittled down to nothing more than a life that could have been.

He had your back. You had his.

Blazer off, his sleeves were rolled up. You didn't ask him about a single one of the tattoos, like he half thought you might. 

Instead, you just accepted him as he was. Didn't stroke your index finger up his arm, tracing the lines, like most girls do as an excuse to get better acquainted with him.

That night he made a promise to himself to never ruin the working relationship you have together.

You work too well to jeopardise it. He has goals. Knew, even back then, that you'd help him achieve his aspirations, like some sort of twin flame type of shit he didn't believe in.

Didn't. Past tense.

These days, when you think of Jungkook and his tattoos, you always think of the snake. It's the one you see most frequently for it's so close to his wrist. Have always understood snakes to represent change.

Jungkook is yet to shed his skin. He's still just the same as he always was, you think, as you get in the lift and head up towards your office floor.

Just 'cause he hadn't hooked up with anyone from the office in a while didn't mean that he'd changed his ways. More fool you for thinking that he might've.

And it's not like it even matters at all. Who he lays down with is none of your concern. You've never cared before. Not really.

It's just that you've been going to sleep in his sheets. Eating dinner he prepared in advance for you. Waking up to his pup excitedly doing zoomies around the room, 'cause he's ready for his walk.

When you get home, you put Bam's leash up next to your coat, which is hung on top of Jungkook's. Kick your shoes off by a pair of his. Use his shower gel when you get washed, and wistfully tuck yourself up into the armchair you helped him pick out for his bedroom. It's tucked in the corner. Is perfect for watching the world roll by.

You know you should have just called him this morning. Spent the entire walk stubbornly hoping that he would instead, but he's just as childish as you are.

You've bickered with him a hundred times over since you first met him, but never like this.

The elevator dings to a stop, pulling you from your tiresome thoughts of Jungkook. Pulling your body from its slumped leaning stature against the mirrored walls, you trudge into a place that endlessly reminds you of him.

Impossible to escape, is Jungkook. Perhaps that's it. Maybe you've just had enough of each other. Need a little time to breathe.

Everyone else who started at the company around the same time as you has already left. It's just you and Jungkook still here from the small pool of fresh graduates that had been taken under Mr Seo's wing.

But you like it here. Like your job. The salary you earn is great—far more than you would get anywhere else.

Again, you don't know this, but Jungkook's always negotiated on your behalf behind closed doors. He makes the company far more money, and does admittedly get a pretty huge bonus every year according to the amount of deals closed.

That being said, he also stomps down to Mr Seo's office in the fourth quarter when news of the next fiscal year's raises are shared. Will demand that your base salary is matched to his. Has threatened, on numerous occasions, to call for a pay disparity audit from external forces if your wage isn't boosted up, even if it means his is cut down to make up for it.

You went out on a limb trusting him in the early days. This is how he repays you.

That's just friendship, though, he thinks. You help him, he helps you.

He also knows you'd probably be annoyed if you ever found out he meddled with things like that.

The girls in the accounting office always think it's so lovely whenever they see the pay increases. Yours and Jungkook's are never quite what they should be, and they know exactly why. It's why they always ask you how he is whenever you go to drop off inventory reports and materials lists with the lead accountant.

You think they just fancy the pants off him.

Which is also true.

And it's also why a couple of them are curiously standing outside your office space, giggling like school girls as you approach it.

"Morning," you smile, then laugh a little too at their giddy excitement—but when you turn the corner and realise what they're so smitten over, you're a little lost for words.

Sitting on your desk is quite possibly the largest bouquet of flowers you've ever seen. Peonies, you think from afar. Pretty and pale pink, they're in a glass vase. Two dozen easily, if not more, blooming just for you.

"Oh," you hum, because it's hardly what you expect to walk into on a Thursday morning.

Mingyu flashes through your head, but you haven't heard a peep from him since you last let your conversation dissolve over the weekend. He has no reason to send you flowers.

But nor does anyone else.

"We tried working out the message," one of them admits. "But whoever your secret admirer is, they're hell-bent on keeping it secret!"

Shameless, you think, suppressing a well-natured laugh. They've got balls to admit that they've read the note.

Walking to your desk, you see it sitting atop of the flowers, and read it for yourself.

Anyone reading the note who knows a single non-superficial thing about the mystery sender would know who it is in a heartbeat. All it takes for you to know is to see the name of who it's addressed to.

Bammie—

She's right. It does match you. When I get home we can dress you up in my new tie.

Tell the gremlin that you deserve head scratches.

And extra treats.

And that I miss her.

Glancing over to the girls, who desperately want gossip, you simply shrug. If they've never heard Jungkook talk about Bam before, then they clearly don't know him at all. If he wanted his name on the note, he'd have put it there.

He could have gotten them sent to his apartment. He chose here. But he also chose anonymity.

And so you give him a little grace.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you bullshit with an apologetic smile that no one believes.

Lea just looks at you from across the room with a raised brow. Waits until the girls leave, then says, "That's not the kind of bouquet you send a colleague."

She already knows you're looking after Bam. That being said, she hasn't read the card. Has no idea what it says. Just knows that there's only one man you ever talk about with such warmth to be deserving of those flowers from.

"Apparently it is," you shrug, all but confirming who sent them with a coy smile.

"I hope he lets Jiwon down gently," Lea sighs, knowing just as well as you do that she's got a bit of a thing for Jungkook.

What she doesn't know is that it's the exact reason you're fighting with him.

Hell, even he doesn't know that!

So deep in your denial, neither do you.

"Why would he need to?" You downplay it all. Lea doesn't know about the awkward call Jiwon inserted herself into, or the fact you've already decided that he must have fucked her. "Like I said, apparently these are the kind of flowers sent by just a colleague."

Lea shakes her head. Has been observing you and Jungkook for years. Was waiting for a Christmas party, or one of those nightmarish summer tennis tournaments for the pair of you to finally figure it out. You're just as thick as two wooden planks when it comes to all of this, or so it would seem. A little push might be needed.

"Colleagues don't send flowers just because," she tells you with an air of authority. "And if I know anything about the stories you've told me, Jungkook doesn't send flowers full stop."

Just like that, you're thinking of those damn tattoos again. The snake, specifically.

Maybe, just maybe, he is changing.

And if you weren't confused before, then you sure as hell are now.

During the summer months, Jungkook often goes home to see Bam at lunchtime. It's not uncommon for you to go with him. In the winter, when the temperature of his apartment is less of a worry, Jungkook probably only goes home for lunch once a week or so.

Walking up to Jungkook's apartment in the middle of the day without him feels a little bit wrong. In one hand, you're holding a peony by its stem. In the other, you're clutching your phone just in case he calls.

In all honesty, you had planned on taking the entire vase back, but it was bloody heavy. You'll wait until he's back in the office.

It might just be paranoia, or the misplaced assumption that everyone is obsessed with what Jungkook does, but you swear there have been far more people passing your office today than usual. People you've seen maybe once or twice in your entire lifetime.

Lea was right. Jungkook doesn't send flowers. 

Has a repeat order going monthly for his mother, but that's it. And even then, he's kind of forgotten about it.

You've debated it with him before; flowers and their presence in relationships. 

He thinks a potted plant would be far more practical, but if he was really going to get someone something, it'd be herbs. Maybe a potted mint bush. Something useful that they could enjoy together.

A few weeks ago, you had told him he'd make an awful sugar daddy.

"Well, yeah!" He'd just laughed. "I save my money for myself. Me alone. If someone wants nice shit, they can get their own job."

"Oh, so you'd never treat a girlfriend?" You'd scoffed, forgetting the fact he never really has girlfriends. Just flings. "Never get her nice shit?"

"Well, that's different," he'd said. "It's not transactional."

"Everything in life is transactional, whether people like to kid themselves it is or not."

Jungkook looked affronted when you said this. You'd had differing perceptions of life for as long as he'd known you, but you'd always been a romantic. Always believed in the prevailing nature of love.

Bam had adjusted in his sleepy position. Curled up a little tighter, then stretched right out. Rested his hind paws on your thighs and tucked his nose into his chest.

"Bam disagrees," Jungkook assured you.

"You trained him using transactions," you reminded him regardless. "Rewarded him with a treat every time he did as you asked. Transactional."

"Okay, but this?" He gestured to where Bam was curled between the pair of you on his sofa. That's always been a rule of his. No sofa for Bam—he's got all the beds he could ever want! But when Jungkook is on the sofa, it's the only place he wants to be, too. "He knows he's not supposed to be on here. He knows he won't get a reward, so why is he up here? It isn't transactional. He just—"

"Is playing you for a fool," you had laughed. "He wants to be on the sofa, so he lets us pet him in return for us not shooing him off. He's the one setting the transaction up. You're the one getting the reward. He's playing you at your own game. Aren't you, baby?"

You'd cooed a little, scratching at Bam's thigh. He shook it ever so gently and readjusted, but didn't stop resting against you.

It was a curious thought; the way that nothing in life ever comes for free. Even the favours you do for Jungkook by dog-sitting are transactional. You get just as much out of those days as he does.

The conversation had mellowed into something else, 'cause Jungkook didn't want to get into a debate. Knows that you can defend your point until the cows come home—has been in enough meetings with you to know as such. Likes being on your side 'cause you always win—and with a negotiator like him to seal the deal, it's always so much sweeter.

As the calling screen of Jungkook's contact details takes over your screen, phone resting against a wine bottle on the coffee table, you wonder how transactional this is.

He gave you flowers, and now you're giving him a call.

Anyone with a rational mind would surely ask: is this not how romance works?

But when he accepts your call, and you're met with a stern face that's desperately trying not to smile, you're reminded of what he really is: your best friend.

Neither of you wants to be the first one who cracks and gives in first, even if you both know this is all so stupid.

You reach over to pick up the peony. Hold it in front of your face. The petals have bloomed so spectacularly that it almost eclipses you.

Jungkook's face scrunches up a little, his terribly hidden smile slightly distorted but ever so hard to hide.

"Will you stop hating me now?" Is all he says.

"Never hated you," you grumble, bringing the flower a little lower, but still in frame. Sitting on the floor, your back is to the sofa and Bam is behind you, right where he's not supposed to be.

If Jungkook is bothered by it, he doesn't mention it. "I missed him this morning."

The guilt that crawls into your stomach and makes itself at home is rancid. Anguish is her name, and she loves nothing more than ruining a good thing.

The frown that steals the pretty smile from your face isn't one that Jungkook enjoys seeing on you, no matter how cute it is when your eyebrows pinch together.

"I should have called," you acknowledge, knowing that it was cruel of you not to, even if you were fighting. "I'm sorry."

Jungkook just smiles. "I assumed the stick was still up your arse."

Narrowing your eyes, you're pleased that he's joking with you; that things feel normal.

"It's fine," he dismisses regardless. "Last night was the opening event so I was a little worse for wear this morning, and then Jiwon was rummaging about at fuckin' six in the morning. Took her fuckin' hours to get ready."

And there it is; confirmation that she's been sharing his bed.

Though you don't frown, there's a stupor to the muscles in your face. The brightness you were looking at him with fades—and very quickly, Jungkook becomes the one who looks unhappy, now.

"What?" He says, genuinely a little confused.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

You just shake your head. Dismiss it. Flick the camera around and lift your phone to focus it on Bam as you give him a little scratch behind the ear.

"He's been good as gold," you begin to waffle on. The ridge between Jungkook's brows deepens. "Best boy in the doggie park, aren't you? There's a new couple who have just started walking a Yorkie. Yappy little bugger. I don't think Bam's a fan."

"No," Jungkook supposes. "He doesn't like yappy dogs—and I don't like it when you deflect. Show me your face, gremlin. What's going on?"

"Nothing!" You insist, but don't flick the camera back. Just get a little more boisterous with Bam, and while it does make Jungkook smile, he can't shake the horrible feeling that's building in his diaphragm.

Your Anguish has a cousin who goes by the name of Confusion, and she adores wrapping herself up in men who fail to communicate in a way that is healthy.

"C'mon," he softly says. Flicks his camera around. Shows you an empty hallway of the convention centre. Says, "I've left Jiwon in charge at the height of the day just so I can answer your call. Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You didn't have to answer," you grumble.

Jungkook is smarter than most. Will have clocked the time of day and knew it was lunch. Definitely assumed you must be with Bam. It must be why he picked up.

Flicking the camera back on himself, Jungkook is almost at a loss for what else he can say to get you to open up.

A little honesty is needed.

And so you pout. Mumble, "They're calling you and Jiwon a dream team in the office."

Jungkook's frown intensifies as his dewy pink lips rest ajar. You'd say he looks distressed, but that's far too intense of an emotion for such a childish qualm.

He just knows that if he heard your partnership with another colleague—especially one in his department—being referred to like that, he'd take offence. It's you and him. You're the dream team. Always have been.

Shaking his head, Jungkook doesn't hide his contempt. Scoffs. "Fuck off. Dream team? She's using your strategies at a booth you designed, and even then, she's barely doing that—you know Acorn guy? The one you said to steer clear of? She's gunning for him—"

"Oh, you're kidding me," you gasp in disbelief. You warned her that he's bad news, multiple times. "Him?!"

"She's young," Jungkook says with a little judgement. Is scared of turning thirty, but definitely doesn't understand people who are closer to twenty. "He's just some hot guy on TV, to her. Doesn't realise his business is gonna tank. She isn't thinking about it long-term."

Which is funny, 'cause Jungkook never really used to think about things long term, either.

Sure, with investments and saving his money, he's always been a little cautious. When it comes to the business, though, it's someone else's money he's playing with. He takes risks. Does dumb shit and it gets rewards.

He really is incredibly good at his job, though. It's part of the reason the women love him, you always think.

It's not.

They like him because he's kind and also so bloody hot he should be on billboards, not in boardrooms.

You like him because he's competent.

In fact, you think there's nothing hotter than a competent man who just knows how to get shit done. And when said competent man can cook like Jungkook? Cares for his dog in the way he does? Looks like he does?

Sigh.

You ignore the way he looks a lot of the time, but you've a pair of eyes and a part of your brain that recognises attractive men. It's hard to ignore all of the time.

"Anyway," he shakes his head. "Not important. She's perfectly fine if not a little misguided—but she isn't you. So, stop worrying about it."

You take a second before you reply. Flick the camera back to you.

It surprises Jungkook, how Confusion has travelled through his bloodstream. Her bony fingers toy with his heart, and he's taken aback by just how sharp her nails are.

Looking at you never used to feel like this. He's not sure why it does now.

You muster up a little courage, even if you can't bring yourself to look at him properly. Let out a deep sigh. Now or never. You run the risk of causing another fight, but if you don't come clean, it'll only dirty everything.

"I just thought we kind of had an agreement, Kook," you eventually whine with an ever-so childish pout.

The hands that have been tearing at his heart migrate through his bloodstream. Get into his brain. Get into his house. Opens doors. Begins moving the furniture.

Stay out of the annexe, his thoughts hiss at Confusion.

Still he seems perfectly calm when he asks, "Watcha mean?"

He's not making this easy for you.

In fact, you'd say he's making it difficult. It would be far easier for you if he just acknowledged what he's already done.

"Well, just..." you take a moment or so to think about how it can be phrased with any dignity—and then you think fuck it. "She's in my department, Kook. I always thought you wouldn't fuck anyone I have to directly work with. It just makes it awkwa—"

"Woah, woah woah," he interrupts. Confusion sits on his shoulder, now, with a twisted smirk on her greyed-out face. "Wouldn't fuck anyone? What the hell do you think I've been doing?!"

"Well, I mean, it's less what and more... who," you joke a little too flippantly.

You don't think he's ever looked so offended in the entire time you've known him.

"You've got to be kidding me."

If anything, you're a bit surprised by just how offended he is. Jiwon is an incredibly pretty girl. A little young for him, granted, but not abhorrently so.

"What?!" You reply, equally confused, then relay everything back to him. "She woke you up this morning getting ready? Was in your room when I called you? Fucking got on your bed right in front of my face and cosied up with you to look at Bam."

Admittedly, that last one was said with a little venom. It annoys you the most.

"She woke me up this morning from across the room," he counters. "Was in our room because we were a last-minute addition to the convention, and it was the only room left within a ten-mile radius—twin beds, may I add! If I don't even share my bed with you when I'm at home, then what the hell makes you think I'd share one with her?! Yeah, the call thing was weird. I'm not gonna lie, it was, but I answered when she was around because I didn't want either of you to get the wrong impression."

A smile wobbles on your lips, as you try to remain stoic. Either of you. You know that you apparently got the wrong end of the stick—but you're not entirely sure what he means by either of you. You wonder what impression he's trying to give her, then decide it's not important.

You clasp your hands together. Lean forward. Put on your best noble old man voice, and say, "Well, it appears that it might have just happened, regardless."

Confusion's perch on Jungkook's shoulder is knocked loose when he laughs, though those sharp nails do claw onto his back. Leave scratch marks that will take a little while to heal—what's important is that they will.

One day, this awkward misstep will be something you laugh about. Kind of like he is, now. You'll forget your tears, but you won't ever forget the strange feeling of weight lifting off your shoulders, mind eased by Jungkook.

"You're a fucking idiot," he laughs with such fondness it almost doesn't feel like an insult. "Seriously? You thought I fucked her? And was then, what? Trying to brag about it? C'mon, you little gremlin! Give me some credit."

Never before has 'gremlin' ever sounded so kind. So warm. So much like 'darling', or 'mon amour'. Secret code for unspoken words.

"I don't know," you whine. Bam shuffles a little bit on the sofa behind you, turning his face away from the noise. You reach back to scratch his head as an apology. Jungkook smiles. Your care for his baby is so innate that you don't even realise you're doing it. "Her hair was damp, and she was practically falling out of her top—"

"Oh, but what I am supposed to do?" He laughs. "I can't tell her to cover up in her own damn room, and even then I just ignore it. I didn't sleep with her. I'm not going to sleep with her. Okay?"

He's not even thought about it. Feels nothing when he looks at her. No excitement. Even if she is attractive, he doesn't think his body would work properly.

Hasn't been working as it should do for the best part of a year now.

Or maybe it would better be referred to as 'malfunctioning'.

'Cause it seems to work okay when he thinks about you.

He 'malfunctioned' earlier on that day, as a matter of fact. Was just showering. And he missed you. And was thinking about those damn pyjama shorts. How smooth your legs had been when he'd hoisted you over his shoulder. How pliant you'd been as he chucked you down into his sheets. Your sleepy eyes and the 3AM husk to your voice. Fuck.

Even thinking about it in a dingy hallway of a convention centre, with your pretty face smiling at him through his phone, is making his heart race. If he doesn't get a hold on it, he'll go into cardiac. Might just flatline.

"Look, I gotta get back, okay?" He softly says. It's not a lie, but it is more sensible than he wants to be. "Have to make sure Jiwon hasn't sold the company to the acorn guy. There's a networking event tonight, so I can't call during Bammie's walk, but I'll check in at some point."

"Alright," you nod, a little sad to see him go, but understanding of it. "Hurry up and come home. Bam misses you."

"I miss him, too," Jungkook pouts. "Show me my baby before I go."

Phone angled to fully capture Bam, you indulge Jungkook for a few moments before he really does have to go. He lingers for a second or so after you say goodbye. Can't muster up anything good to say to make you stay.

Holding the stem of the single peony you'd taken home with you, you roll it between your thumb and fingers. Watch the petals twirl.

"What should I do, hey, Bam?" You wistfully sigh, eventually getting up to pop it in a glass of water. Jungkook has no vases, for he's never had any need for flowers.

The peony isn't the only thing blooming in his kitchen these days, though. It hasn't been for a while.

Work passes slowly that afternoon. You want to get home. See Bam. Finish off the wine you opened so that Jungkook doesn't scold you for letting it turn into vinegar when he gets back. And then you wanna sleep—just so you can wake up the next morning and take Bam on his walk.

It's not like that isn't part of your agenda tonight, too. It's just that Jungkook won't be around for that one.

Instead, his evening is spent in fancy rooms with men in even fancier suits and women who take a fancy to him, too. A whisky is in his hands at all times, his pretty lips embroiled in conversation. He talks so much he barely has any time to drink.

People gravitate towards him; those who feel threatened by his charm gravitate towards Jiwon. Mistake her for a prize he's trying to keep. Don't realise his unbothered facade is anything but a facade.

It's gone midnight by the time he's kicking off his shoes with a little wobble as he gets to his hotel room.

"I'm being serious," he almost giggles, phone between his shoulder and his ear as he loosens his cufflinks. "It's a wig. I'm positive."

280 miles away, phone on your tummy, loudspeaker on as you gaze up at Jungkook's bedroom ceiling, you're laughing too.

"It can't be," you protest the current topic of conversation—Mr Acorn (as he's now affectionately known between you both) and whether or not his hair is real. Jungkook had left Jiwon to continue her poorly judged perusal of him, in favour of checking in with you instead. There was no one else at that party he wanted to talk to more than he wanted to talk to you. Laughing and joking about stupid shit, he's glad you answered. "He went swimming on Singles Inferno!"

"So?!" Jungkook snorts, tapping his phone over to loudspeaker too and tossing it down onto his sheets. A little haphazard, he's unbuttoning his shirt. Is a little tipsy, but not enough to warrant any huge issues. "Maybe he used industrial strength glue."

"Surely he'd rather people just know he was bald? Start a trend?"

"Maybe he's got a terrible head tattoo," Jungkook theorises, tossing his shirt across to a chair, before finally discarding his pants, too. Is just in his boxers now as he clambers into the sheets. "Bald eagle. An ex's name. I dunno. But I'd take chemical burns over that."

"You'd never get a girl's name tattooed on you," you laugh in response. Legs tucked up, heels to your ass, you let your knees gently sway. Bam is curled up in his own bed by the foot of Jungkook's. You're not on facetime, mainly 'cause Jungkook clicked the wrong button, but it's also nice not using poor Bam as an excuse to talk to you.

"And I'm also not balding, so we don't have to worry about that."

"Are you not?" You hum, just to wind him up. "I swear there's a patch of missing hair—"

"Shut up," he cuts you off, voice just as fond as it is stern. "I will swim all the way back to the mainland and speed run up to Seoul just to shut you up. Don't speak it into existence. I have great hair."

"Mmm," you hum. Sinking a little further into his sheet, you turn on your side. Take him off speaker. Hold your phone to your ear. Look at the empty side of his bed and wonder what it'd be like if he were here. Know better than to indulge it. "And you are just so modest, too. Absolutely no ego whatsoever."

"It's why the ladies love me," he jokes, not realising just how true it is. Jungkook takes a moment before he says anything else. Is comforted by the silence you leave for him, totally unaware it's because you're not sure how to respond. "Not that it matters."

Though his delivery is soft and airy, like feathers falling from a well established nest, it lands in your chest with a heavy thud, like a stone from a bridge. You couldn't swerve in time. It shattered your windshield; plummeted straight into your heart. 'Causes a pile up on the freeway, all your thoughts held behind a tongue that cannot speak.

"You tired?" Jungkook hums down the speaker when a response never comes. "I'm sorry, I can let you go?"

"No," you say incredibly quickly considering you've been leaving your side of the conversation empty. "No, sorry. Just can't believe you're actually behaving yourself. Who are you, and what have you done with Cassanova that normally takes a hold of you after a few drinks?"

He's right here, Jungkook laments, knowing better than to act on the way he's been feeling lately. Just says, "Maybe I'm maturing."

"I find that hard to believe," you tell him. If the tiktok psychology gurus who have taught you everything you know about modern men are anything to go by, his brain should have finished fully developing about a year ago.

And while Jungkook would tell you to get fucked and that his brain was already fully developed, he knows that if he sat down and really thought about it, maybe it'd hold some merit. Afterall, it's been about a year since those first thoughts about you started creeping into his mind house.

It's only recently that he's been flirting with that damn annexe door, but he's been aware of someone in there for a while, now.

"What?" He smiles down the phone, resting an arm on his bare abdomen, looking up at the dark ceiling of his hotel room. "Maybe I am. Maybe shagging random girls doesn't excite me anymore."

"You're lying."

"Am I?"

"Yes," you insist, but there's a smile on your face.

There's something about his denial you enjoy.

It's why you're arguing against him. You wanna hear him deny it again. Tell you he doesn't care about other girls. You don't necessarily want him to care about you beyond what he already does. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

"No," he simply replies back. "I'm not."

"So if Jiwon—"

"Why are you bringing her up again?" He's smirking, now. You can hear it in his tone. "Are you jealous?"

"Jealous?!"

"Yeah," He insists, just like you had been earlier. "You don't like the idea of her sleeping with me."

Incorrect. You don't like the idea of him sleeping with her.

"Well, no," you admit. "But because I work with her—"

"That's not it," he fights against you. Knows that you didn't go and see Mingyu when you said you would, and also now knows you said you would after you thought he'd slept with Jiwon. He might not be able to read women's minds, but he's learnt your M.O. pretty well over the years.

"You're drunk," you whisper, trying to hide behind the alcohol that both of you have in your systems. Neither of you are in any position to make sensible choices.

"Tipsy," he corrects. "And so are you. Go on. Be honest. Tell me."

"There's nothing to tell."

"Yeah, there is," he whispers, his words far braver in sentiment than they are in sound.

You swallow. Can't work out if he's just teasing you or not. "There's nothing."

The silence in the room around you is deafening. It's like all you can focus on is Jungkook, and the way you imagine his lips pouting together at the end of each sentence he speaks. Pretty and pink and—

"So you've never thought about it?" He interrupts your thoughts with a question you're unprepared for. 

"What?" You reply a little dismissively, as if it's an outlandish think to consider.

But Jungkook doesn't buy it.

Has been driving himself insane.

Knows he can't be the only one—and if he is, then maybe he really is insane.

"Us," he replies as if it's water off a duck's back. Simple. Easy. "You've never wondered what it would be like?"

"Kook..."

It's like playing chicken. Both too scared to cross a line for fear of it changing the entire fabric of your lives.

But you can acknowledge something without acting on it. Confirmation means nothing; it's the choices that follow which really mean something,

"Yeah?" He husks. His sleepy eyes are pressed shut, his voice a slow drawl. "What is it, huh? You want me to admit it first?"

You almost laugh at how dumb this whole conversation is. You're friends. Have been for years. Colleagues. Just... Well, just you and Jungkook. He's never thought about you like that. You're certain of it.

Yet still, you ask, "Well, have you?"

He doesn't reply immediately. You half think he's drifted off to sleep, proof that he'd had too much to drink to be having a conversation like this.

But then you hear his breathy little laugh through the speaker. You know he must be nibbling down on his bottom lip as he smirks. The sound is so familiar you can picture it. You wish he was here. Want to see it. Feel it.

Fuck, you curse yourself out. This is not good.

And Jungkook's only gonna make it a whole lot worse.

"Yeah," he quietly admits, keys in one hand and padlock in the other as he stares at the annexe door in his mind. Wide open, there's no going back now. Only forward. "I think about it all the time."

Bam nuzzles the side of his head against your tummy as he adjusts into a slightly more comfortable position on Jungkook's bed. The sheets are a mess from all your tossing and turning, your body plonked right in the middle of his mattress. There's no his side or your side anymore. You've made it yours, and Bam has joined in.

He shouldn't be on the bed. You know this, he knows this. You're both disobeying Jungkook. Are in this perfectly innocent sin together, and will face the wrath of Jungkook as a unit.

There's never really much wrath that comes from Jungkook. He's the type to smirk and laugh in the face of the people who've wronged him. Believes in karma. Fate. He draws the lines at horoscopes, though. Thinks they're bollocks. Smiles, still, when you blame shitty things on Mercury.

The only time you've ever seen him angry—nostrils flaring, jaw tense, agitated beyond compare—was when some guy wouldn't stop hitting on you in a bar. You'd told him no a dozen times over and he just wouldn't listen.

It still pisses you off that he listened to Jungkook without hesitation, but you also know it looked like Jungkook was gonna break his nose. You're far less intimidating when you're annoyed. Jungkook laughs at you whenever you get frustrated. Says you're cute—or at least as cute as a Gremlin can be.

You've got a similar look on your face now, all perplexed and bereft. If he were here, he'd be teasing you, trying to make you crack a smile.

Annoyingly, you know he'd be able to.

You're staring up at his ceiling, early morning light seeping in through the gaps in the curtains. The world you wish to ignore today rudely intrudes on you regardless.

It's his karma, you think.

You disobey Jungkook, the world disobeys you.

With one hand resting on Bam, the other is tightly clutching your phone. For the past five minutes, you've been locking and unlocking it like a wind-up toy drummer.

To call, or not to call, or whatever Shakespeare said.

The faint hum of a wine-induced hangover buzzes between your ears, but it isn't so bad. Probably because you didn't really have that much to drink.

If anyone asks, you'll say you had a bottle.

And by anyone, you mean Jungkook.

If Jungkook asks, you'll laugh— We had a call? Are you sure? —and he'll laugh too— Yeah, we were both pretty drunk —and you'll both pretend like he didn't say the words that he did.

Pulling the pillow he usually sleeps on across to your face, you press it down. Scream into the padding. It's not loud enough to alarm Bam, but it is enough to make him cock his head.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it had only been Jungkook's lips that were loose last night.

The issue is that yours were, too.

You wish you didn't remember all the words you'd said. The way you'd told him to shut up.

The way he'd hummed, "Oh, come on. You know you think about it, too."

The way you'd said, "I do no such thing."

He had laughed. Said you were a liar.

You'd protested. Said it didn't matter anyways, 'cause you both know it'd never work.

"So you have thought about it," he'd teased.

"Briefly."

"How briefly?"

"Like a matter of minutes—"

"Okay, rude," he'd pouted through the receiver. "I last way longer than a couple of minutes."

"You're disgusting," you'd laughed at the way he'd made it all about sex.

For all he knew, you could have been talking about a relationship—but you're right. You both know it'd never work, so of course this is about sex.

"You the one who's thought about it, though," he'd flirted through the phone. Biting down on his bottom lip, the darkness of his hotel room had slipped him into a fatal state of hedonism.

There was a beat of his heart. One. Two. Still no response from you.

He knew you were thinking about it. Thinking about him. Decided to push his luck. Had almost whispered, his fingertips trailing down his torso, as he chanced, "Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?"

Silence continued to linger for longer than it should have, until you finally just whispered, "Kook."

"Yeah?" He'd smirked.

"You can't ask things like that."

But he can, and he did, and your lack of an answer was an answer in and of itself.

He wasn't even really after the truth. He just wanted to get under your skin; burrow himself down into the deepest, darkest, most depraved corner of your brain. Revenge, he thinks, for that damn annexe you've assigned squatters rights to.

You set up home in him? Fine . He'll do it right back.

"So this is what I am, huh?" You'd replied, with a little faux chip on your shoulder, trying to deflect from yourself. "Just another office girl for you to fantasize about?"

There's always been a challenge to you that Jungkook has liked. You're sparring partners. Will bicker and argue and end up laughing over it all. It makes for excellent brainstorming meetings, 'cause you're always trying to win. You bring out the best in each other, even if it is in a bid to do the opposite.

Jungkook had sighed. Weighed up his options. Rested his hands over his boxers, only to find himself far too entertained by the conversation. It wasn't a surprise, nor was it unwelcome.

The frequency of his thoughts about you had been doubling, tripling, quadrupling ever since Chuseok.

His bed has become a pit of sin in recent weeks; nobody but him in the shrouded decay of a mind-house he's been neglecting in favour of the annexe shared with you.

He already knows just how bad it's gonna be for him when he returns home, and the pillows are dented by your crown, the lingering scent of your perfume wrapping around him just like he knows his hand will be around his cock. Tight. Strong. Firm. It's your name he'll whine, just like it was when he was in the shower earlier that morning.

God, it's gotten so bad.

He needs to stop before he ruins everything.

It's not like sex is an uncommon topic of conversation between you both. Casual vulgarity had been a tool used to bond with; a taboo way to tease one another. It's always been casual. Uncalculated.

It's different, now.

In the darkness of midnight, the stakes were raised almost as high as your heart rate.

"You think so poorly of me," he'd whined, a teasing smile on his lips. It wasn't rare to hear Jungkook address you so playfully. In fact, it was a common occurrence—yet it felt strange, this time. "You know you're not just another office girl."

"Do I?"

"You should."

"I don't," you'd shrugged into his sheets. "Tell me, how am I different?"

The distance between you made a flirt like this safe. Immediate consequences were null and void, and the alcohol in your system didn't seem to care for it either.

"I can't tell you."

"Sure you can."

"You don't wanna hear it," he'd promised.

"Try me," you'd challenged.

And then Jungkook admitted something he knew far better than to confess, but couldn't seem to help himself. He just wanted you to know that you were special. That you were different.

That you are different. Are special.

"None of the office girls have ever made me cum in my own bed."

It came out far less sweet than his brain had told him it would, but it was still a compliment, he thought.

"Jungkook!"

"What?!"

The way you both kind of shrieked at each other only amplified the shock of the confession, but also did well to hide the way it excited you, too. Got you hot beneath his sheets. Aroused.

"Don't say things like that," you'd scolded him with a laugh, playing it off as a joke. "I'll report you to HR."

"You'd do no such thing," he'd smirked down the line. Matched your energy. Played it off as an incredibly obscene, vulgar joke. Will turn his nose up if you ever ask him if he was telling the truth. "And anyways, the HR girls love me. You'd be fighting a losing battle."

"You're awful," you'd told him with such a tenderness that suggested you really didn't think that at all.

And so he smiled. Decided to cut his losses. Agreed. "Yeah. That's me."

The conversation dissolved into casual chatter until you both made excuses about being tired, or needing to sleep off the alcohol.

Yet both of you would spend the next hour awake, staring at your respective ceilings. Occasionally, you'd look to the space reserved for him in his bed. He'd do just the same. Would look at Jiwon's empty bed and lament the fact that it wasn't you on the trip with him.

He never should have asked you to watch over Bam—but there really isn't anyone else he'd rather have in his apartment.

Then he's thinking about you all over again, in his home, hair claw-clipped like it so often is, and how cute those little pyjama shorts of yours would look peeking out from the hemline of one of his shirts. He wonders what you're wearing; if it's your bare skin against his sheets. Wonders if he sleeps naked after he gets home, if it'd feel like your arms are wrapped around him; if the scent of your perfume would sink into his skin.

It doesn't take long for the thoughts to become lewd. He thinks of your lips, and how they'd part with a gasp if he were to stroke your skin with his fingertips. Thinks of your waist, and what it would feel like to hold. Thinks of your body in a way that really ought to get him fired.

How his lips could drag across your skin; the wet pink of his tongue learning where you liked to be touched. How he'd guide your hands. The words of approval he'd use— Yeah, like that. Oh, fuck. Yeah, just like that, baby. You're so good at that aren't you, huh? You know how many times I've imagined this? You're so much better. G'na make me cum, babe. Keep going. You want my cum, yeah? Yeah, you do. Oh, fuck—

"No," he sharply scolds himself, tearing his thoughts from you and his hand from his thick, impatient cock. "Fucks sake, man. Get a grip."

Wanting you like this is selfish, he thinks. Selfish and stupid and— God —so fuckin' dumb.

He also thinks it's your fault. You're an interior designer, after all. Have made that stupid annexe feel more like a home than the rest of his head ever has. Added candles and cushions. Hung pictures on the wall; turned off the main light in favour of warm lamps that just make him wanna curl up and fall asleep with you on the sofa.

It's so different, this little annexe in his brain, to the apartment that he actually lives in.

If he were to assess it thoroughly, he'd realise that the annexe looks just like your apartment.

But he hates your place. Has never been shy about telling you so. Hates all your nicknacks. Hates the clothing rails you use instead of a proper wardrobe, and the way your beside table is actually just a stack of books you're yet to read. Hates how there's always a cosy blanket within touching distance, and how it always smells like black cherry candles. Hates how firm your mattress is, even if he's only ever slept on it once, fully clothed after you'd both had way too much to drink after a tight work deadline.

He also hated how he didn't wake up with an aching back like he usually does. Hated how sleeping in his own damn bed began to feel wrong, and how nowadays it only feels right during those first few days after he returns from trips; when it still smells like you and the rings you take off your fingers in the night are still tucked beneath his pillows.

Kind of like they are now, as you finally decide to stop being a miserable cow and just get up. You're normally the one who calls him, and it's typically always when you're walking Bam. Last night had been an anomaly. There's no reason for him to call you, now.

It's when you're showering that your phone lights up. Only briefly. Messages, not calls.

JK: can't call this morning, gotta head to the exhibition hall early

JK: give my baby a head scratch from me

JK: send me pics!!

JK: of bam

JK: none of you

While the vomit emoji he adds onto the end of the final message is a little uncalled for, it's actually kind of a relief that he doesn't want to call. Having to face him right now, when you're in such a sorry state of confusion, would have only made the situation far worse for you.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

Your face when you walk into the office, and the state of despair Lea seems to find you in, would suggest otherwise.

By half past ten, you've managed to wrangle Jungkook into conversation eight times.

It's not until you mention him in relation to Jiwon that Lea seems to notice.

"Okay, so?" She laughs. "Everyone knows you and Jungkook are like a package deal. She isn't taking your spot—plus, you're her senior . If she tried to undercut you, do you think anyone would want to work with her?"

It's a good point, but you don't really care to listen to reason right now.

"But it's not undercutting," you pout. "You saw everyone in the group chat. Dream team. "

The way your voice heightens in pitch and nose turns up as you utter the phrase is nothing short of hilarious, and Lea makes sure to let you know.

"You're being a big old baby about this," she laughs again. "Jungkook's gonna come back, relay all of the deals he's set up, and then he's gonna whisk you up to his office to spend the next two weeks drawing up plans. I doubt I'll even see you!"

Admittedly, in the busy periods, you'll work at his desk. In the big chair. The special one he got after his first bonus. The one on his side of the desk. He'll work on the opposite side—the client side—with his laptop.

It's caused a fair amount of confusion before, whenever people have come to his office. Your nonchalance about it all makes it seem totally normal. Most people don't question it anymore—and if they do, you just say the programme you have to use runs better on his computer than it does on a laptop.

Which isn't a lie.

But you could always just work at your own desk.

The issues is that Jungkook likes to keep you close when he's working. Makes it easier for the random questions he blurts out that you're always ready to answer. Annoys him to no end when you're not there and he has to go off and find you.

By the time he finds you, the question is always half gone or you start blathering on about something completely irrelevant and he forgets it anyway. It makes him antsy not having you close.

Neither of you seem to realise it's not normal.

"Look," Lea sighs, minimising her tab so that she can give you her full attention. "You're the one who suggested Jiwon should go. It's just work! You're acting like a jealous girlfriend—"

"No, I'm not!" You gasp. "Don't be absurd!"

"Well, whose apartment did you wake up in?"

"That's hardly—"

"Whose?"

"I mean— Well— His, but —"

"Who was the first person you spoke to this morning?"

"Okay, that's not fair. I'm looking after his—"

"Who was the last person you spoke to last night?"

You pause. Narrow your eyes.

Lea just smiles.

"At least tell me you're in the spare room and not his bed," she jokes—but when she notices the look on your face, her smile drops. "Oh, you're kidding me! You know what you're like when it comes to domestication ! You're bloody nesting , aren't you?!"

"Oh c'mon," you scoff. "I'm not an animal!"

"Uh, yeah," she says, dumbfounded. "You are. That's the issue with humans. Too many bloody primal desires—"

"I do not have a primal desire for Jungkook!"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never thought about it."

"I haven't!" You assert, eyes locked on hers. It's almost believable. Or at least it is until your lips begin to twitch. The look of shock on her face is borderline offensive. "Oh my God, shut up!"

Lea's face scrunches up in revulsion. Shoulders to her ears, she whispers, "He's a whore !"

"Okay, that's not nice."

"But it's true!"

Sighing, you slump into your chair. Push your pout up to your nose, and then sigh even deeper than before.

Looking across at Lea with such perplexity anyone would think she's just asked you to design interiors for a rocket ship, you decide you absolutely cannot let this confusion get the better of you.

"It's fine," you assure her. "He's coming home tomorrow evening. Once I'm out of his house, I'll be way more rationable about things."

"You sure?"

No.

"I'm sure."

As Jungkook places his rucksack down beside a bar stool in an airport lounge, he can't help but feel like he's doing something wrong.

It's dark outside, and the dim lights of the bar give way to a seedy intimacy that he's always loved about places like this—how fleeting they are. The casual embrace of a stranger's stare can linger for hours afterwards, consuming his thoughts for an entire flight.

Yet the only people he's even looked in the eyes of tonight have been the airport staff checking him through. Even as he asks for a whisky, he barely registers the woman behind the bar.

Placing his phone down, he also discards the lanyard that's been around his neck. He forgot to take it off before heading to their airport, and just popped it back on after going through the scanners.

It's not like he needs it now. The conference centre is miles away.

He's still in his business suit. Left quickly. Just confirmed with Jiwon that she didn't mind him catching an earlier flight and in all honesty, it suited her better. Jungkook had been so annoying about Acorn guy the entire time. Kept telling her it was a waste of energy, and no business would come from her pursuit of him. She wanted the chance to prove him wrong; to achieve something by herself.

"Are you Leaving early, too?" An American accent drawls from beside him, immediately grabbing Jungkook's attention.

A burly man with greying hair takes a perch on the stool beside Jungkook. Nodding towards the lanyard, he holds up his own. Mitch Ellis his tag reads, and instantly Jungkook is reminded of the folder you had handed to him before his departure.

"Did a little research on an American company that's gonna be at the Expo. Their head marketer has shares in a bunch of baseball-related companies. Get pally with him."

The opportunity hadn't arisen. Jungkook barely even had time to breathe, let alone seek out some elusive American businessman—yet here he is, in the flesh, approaching Jungkook.

Sucking a little air between his teeth, Jungkook nods. Laughs. Says, "Got a family to get back to."

What. The. Fuck.

He doesn't know why on earth he said that, he just knows he can't take it back. A family. For Christ's sake! It's not just the abandoned house in his brain that's rotting—it's the whole damn thing. Stupid .

Pursing his lips in approval, Mitch nods. Lends an expression that Jungkook can only assume means he respects the answer.

"Family man," he says. "Don't see many of them in the industry these days."

Jungkook shrugs. Continues on with his bullshit. "I love my job, but home's where the heart is." Or at least, it's where his dog is. Of course, he loves Bam more than he cares to articulate—but a man and his dog surely don't constitute to a 'family'. "You off early, too?"

"Wife and kids tagged along for the trip," he nods, then quickly asks the barmaid for a whisky, too. "Promised I'd take them to Lotte World tomorrow."

Jungkook grimaces. "Ooft, on a Saturday?"

"The crowds that bad, huh?"

Gritting his teeth, Jungkook tips his head from side to side, then says, "Get magic passes for the family. It's worth the extra price. Trust me."

He'd never dream of going to Lotte World on a Saturday.

In fact, he doesn't dream of it full stop. Grew up going to the Busan franchise, and would opt for it any day of the week. Everland would be his second choice if couldn't be bothered for the drive. But never the Jamsil Lotte World. It's always rammed .

"I swear, kids—" Mitch shakes his head "—All they do is bleed you dry."

Jungkook smiles. "I'm yet to reach that stage, but I can imagine."

Mitch looks appropriately confused. Did Jungkook not just make up a bullshit imaginary family? Surely he hasn't faltered already?

Jungkook clarifies, "Going home to my girl and my dog. No kids—or at least if I've acquired one over the last couple of days, it'll be a surprise."

He doesn't know why he said that.

My girl.

Oh, God. He's going insane. He must be. This is ridiculous.

Those stupid dreams of his had already started migrating into daydreams. Now, they're being spoken into reality. This is terrible. Really, truly, awful.

Mitch has an easy ten, maybe twenty years on Jungkook.

His hair is greying, and there are lines embedded into his skin that tell stories of the life he's lived.

While it's his career Jungkook would typically be envious of, he finds himself jealous of Mitch's personal life. Wife. Kids. God, he hates the conformity of it all, but there's an ache in his chest when he thinks about all that he doesn't have.

And it only worsens when he thinks of you and Bam.

"Ah, young love," Mitch nods, again seemingly in approval of Jungkook and his 'choices'—which is bizarre, because Jungkook wants to punch himself in the face. "Make the most of it. You'll be longing for the good old days once the kids come."

It's too late for Jungkook to correct himself. Too late to admit to the truth. To say 'lol, jk, im single, just fancy the pants off my coworker.'

The thought of it all makes him want to hurl. Fancy.

He's never admitted his crush before, not even to himself. Oh, this is all so awful.

And so Jungkook panics. Says, "Hopefully we've got a couple years before then. We're both at the same company, so we're trying to figure it all out before doing anything we can't take back."

What is wrong with you?!

"Oh?" Mitch chirps, encouraging Jungkook to continue.

"Were interns at the same time," Jungkook begins to overexplain, as if it makes it any better. He's speaking a crush into existence that he isn't even sure exists, and declaring it as love of some sorts? Oh, this is really barbaric. He might throw up. Maybe if he pretends to faint, he can get out of this situation. He thinks it would be less mortifying. Yet, still, he continues! "Have gone up through the ranks together, but are different departments."

Why is he still talking about you?!

Oh God, his head is gonna explode. It's like you're building an extension on the annexe. He never gave you planning permission, and yet there you are, concrete trowel in one hand, a brick in the other. You're so pretty, he thinks.

Get a grip!

"HR nightmare," Mitch laughs, then leans a little closer. "Truth be told, it's how me and the missus met—I worked for her Daddy's company. Thought I'd be fired on the spot when we told him."

"But I'm guessing...?"

Mitch nods. "I'm now their longest-serving employee and am set to take over in the next five years," he laughs. Thankfully, it all worked out. Hopefully, the same'll be said for you and your missus."

Jungkook's lips curve into a tight-lipped smile. Decides he has to change topic, or otherwise he might just self-implode. "Yeah. Fingers crossed—anyway, I don't think we had a chance to speak at the conference, did we? What's your company?"

As if Jungkook has earned a gold seal of approval, Mitch nods his head over towards a couple of chairs that overlook the runways. Picks up his whisky. Begins to walk away. Says, "I was about to ask you the exact same thing. What did you say your name was again? Let's talk."

"Jeon Jungkook," he grins, picking up his whisky, finally forcing you out of his brain. "Yeah. Let's chat."

"Bammie," you whine into Jungkook's pillows when the sound of his paws excitedly clattering across the floorboards wakes you. You can't have been asleep for very long. A couple hours, tops. "It's not time for walkies yet."

Burrowing yourself deeper into Jungkook's sheets, you try and drown out the noise–but it's fruitless. Not only is Bam too cute to ignore, you worry that there's something wrong.

Sitting up, eyes all beary, the dark nothingness around you clues you in on the fact it's definitely the middle of the night. Pushing the duvet off your body, you swing your legs over the side of the bed as your phone begins to vibrate. Jungkook's face takes over your screen, and a frown takes over yours.

Part of you wants to ignore it. Wonder if maybe you've already slept through it ringing out, and that's what woke Bam up.

At this time of the evening, Jungkook should be at the afterparty. It's unofficial, and not endorsed by the convention, which only means one thing: people are getting legless.

He'd sent you a message earlier on in the day saying that Jiwon was still trying her absolute hardest to bag the Acorn man, after an unsuccessful attempt the night before. You wonder if he's wing-manning her.

Bitterly, you wonder if she's cut her losses. Turned her attention to Jungkook, instead.

He's probably shitfaced by now.

Part of you worries he'll want to continue the conversation from the night before. You're too sober to even consider flirting.

Sliding across to answer, you hold the phone to your ear and you begin to walk in the direction of wherever Bam may be.

"Yeah?" You croak down the phone, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

"You sound chirpy," he teases.

Bizarrely, you think he sounds sober. "Fuck off."

"Charming. Undo the bolt on the door," Jungkook demands down the line, but there's almost an echo, as if he's just in the other room or something like that.

Your feet softly pad into the living room, the darkness not much of a hindrance. You know his apartment like the back of your hand; the veins, the freckles, the grooves dappled in your skin below your knuckles. All it takes is a couple of steps for you to reach the light switch, and absolutely zero thought for you to flick it on.

"Hm?" You mumble a confused sound as light bursts into the room. Your eyes squeeze together, a groan catching in your throat. Blinking once, twice, you adjust quickly. Spot Bam by the entryway, looking up at the door expectantly. One of his paws taps at the steel, a soft whine trembling on his lips. Turning your attention back to Jungkook, you say, "What?"

"'I'm home, gremlin," Jungkook softly smiles down the phone. "Let me in."

"But it-" You begin to protest, knowing that his flight isn't until tomorrow.

Jungkook doesn't care to explain himself. Is just as tired as you sound.

"Let me in."

You don't need to be told twice.

He's home.

It shouldn't make you feel the way that it does, all warm and content.

But it does, and for a moment, you let yourself indulge in the sensation of welcoming Jungkook right back to where he belongs.

Hanging up, you place your phone on the kitchen counter, reaching out to scratch Bam's head when you get to the door.

"Is it daddy, huh?" You ask him as he continues to paw at the door. There's a small metallic click as you unthread the bolt, which is quickly replaced by a robotic beep as you press the easy-release button for the latch.

Before you can even properly open the door, the handle is being pressed down from the outside. The sound of Jungkook's hushed voice echoes into the hallway instantly as he coos over Bam just to wind him up a little before he can see him.

"Who is it, Bammie?" He asks through the door, and you already know exactly what he looks like—smile so large it takes over his entire face.

You help to push the door open, and find that there's sunshine in the middle of the night in Jungkook's hallway.

"You're home," you sleepily smile as you watch Jungkook crouch, arms wide and all-encompassing as he greets Bam in the most boisterous of ways. He's not making any sense. Isn't saying any words. Just lets noises rumble from his throat, of which Bam somehow seems to understand.

In a way, you understand it too. The mental translation is a bit patchy, but you know it's something along the lines of, I've missed you so much Bammie, Daddy's home now, let's never spend time apart ever again.

Glancing up to you, that daylight smile hanging off his lips, Jungkook's got a glisten in his tired eyes.

Maybe you haven't adjusted to the light as well as you think you have, but there's something different about Jungkook. Something that's making your weary heart work overtime. It's all a bit strange. All a bit lovely. All a bit terrifying.

"Yeah," he tenderly agrees, hands scratching behind Bam's floppy ears as his eyes fondly meet yours. How could he ever stay away? "Home."

part three to be uploaded tomorrow <3

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Freak Zone: Play Time

Erik Steel x Sugar Kitty x Baby Ashley

Warnings: Smut, Daddy Kink, Voyeurism, GXG, Threesome

Killa Productions

“What’s your name? Or what do you prefer to be called?”

“Just call me Kittie.”

“And you?”

“I’m Ashley.”

“Who would like to go first?”

Kittie raised her hand, waving it enthusiastically like a know-it-all in class. They both share a look before having another giggle fit. That’s all they’ve been doing since arriving on set for day one, smiling and giggling excitedly. Kittie sat up straighter on the studio chair, and cupped her cleavage in her pink bralette, juggling her perky titties for the camera. Kittie crossed one thick thigh over the other, a clear view up her pleated plaid skirt. She wore the cutest pair of kitten ears and her big brown feline eyes were captivating. She was such a baby doll.

“Hello, I go by Sugar Kittie but you can just call me Kittie. I’m a Pisces. Virginia born and raised. I’m 25 yrs old. I’m your favorite lewd cosplayer, twitch affiliate, and anime lover. I like long walks on the beach, strawberry pop tarts, and fucking obviously.”

“Nice to meet you, Kittie. Have you ever worked with Erik Steel before?”

“I have, yes. But it was in passing at an event. He’s always shown me support though. I’m just happy to be here. I’m glad to be a part of the team. I’ve heard so many good things.”

“What’s your favorite asset?”

“My ass,” Kittie smiled, “I love my ass so much.”

“Mind showing us this ass?”

Kittie looked into the camera focused on her and stood up in her clear, platform, 7-inch stilettos. She grabbed the arms of the studio chair and arched her back, the tiny skirt revealing her entire ass swallowing the white g-string. Ashley gawked at her before reaching out to grip one cheek and squeezeing the meaty flesh. Kittie swayed her hips and started creating a round of applause making her ass clap. The camera panned up at her and she looked back over her shoulder, twerking with her hand on her pussy.

“Yessssss,” Ashley hyped up, smacking Kittie’s ass again. She couldn’t help herself. It was so fucking phat and bouncy. The playboy bunny tattoo on her right cheek stood out against her caramel skin.

Kittie stood tall and took her seat, giggling and smiling while adjusting her hair that she wore half up, half down in two ponytails and a fringed bang.

“That’s a lot of ass, Kittie. Erik loves ass. I’m sure he can’t wait to have you.”

Kittie laughs, “Thank you. But you know who has more ass than me,” Kittie pointed to Ashley, “She got the ass AND the titties!”

Ashley blushed and batted her lashes. She smiled showing off her braces while her hands smoothed down her hefty breasts, lifting the tiny T-shirt to reveal a pink polka dotted bra that barely fit her phat titties.

“Mmm, see,” Kittie fondled Ashley’s left breast, “So juicy!”

“Yeah, they’re definitely a handful. Is that your favorite asset, Ashley?”

“That’s not a fair question.” Ashley replied with a teasing smile.

“Okay. How about this…what do men love the most on your body?”

“Pussy!”

Ashley and Kittie spoke in unison.

“Okay, besides pussy, I’d say most of the men I’ve fucked showed my titties and ass the same amount of attention.”

“That’s a fair answer. I mean, both of you ladies are gorgeous. Every bit of you is perfect in my eyes. And obviously, Erik’s. Ashley, tell us a little about yourself.”

“I’m your favorite Texas sweetheart, adorable and slutty. I go by Lil Baby Ashley or Baby Ashley. You can call me whatever name you want honestly…Little Slut…Princess…Baby Cakes…Me and Kittie are basically the same as far as interest but I hate pop tarts. I love dancing, it makes me feel alive.”

“And, have you ever met Erik? I’m sure you’ve seen his work.”

“Can I reveal something?” Ashley raised her hand timidly, “I’ve actually never seen Erik Steel in action until today—I know! I know! It’s wild, but I saw a video of his with Queen Adora? The fetish content creator. They did a kinky skit together and it was…so sexy.”

“Well, isn’t it your lucky day? You get to experience what it’s like to get fucked by Erik Steel.”

“I have chills that’s how excited I am,” Kittie said, “I’ve seen almost all of his videos and movies. I just can’t wait to have some of that dick myself.”

“I’m obsessed now,” Ashley chimed in, “And I don’t know what it is about his presence but…you don’t really get that type of energy anymore with porn. He has this old school flare about him that makes it more stimulating. He’s a natural story teller and he has a way with his words that just…draws you in.”

“He has this thing with his eyes too. Like, he’s hypnotic. And I love that he puts you on! He’s so supportive of us black women in this business.” Kittie added.

“We just can’t wait to get started!” Ashley concluded.

Play Time

Kittie excited the elevator onto the fifth floor of a luxury apartment building wearing an oversized flannel, loose-fitted distressed jeans and white sneakers. Her square-framed glasses hung off of the bridge of her nose as she lugged a heavy suitcase filled with her last bit of items. Kittie moved into the apartment with her friend and classmate, Ashley. Ashley and Kittie attend the same college and they are both studying computer science.

Kittie wasn't paying attention when she almost collided with her neighbor, Erik, while he was in workout gear, heading to the apartment gym. Kittie jumped back and dropped her bag.

"I'm so sorry!" She apologized.

"It's okay," Erik grabbed her bag from the floor, sitting it upright, "No worries."

Kittie still hadn't recovered from last night. Seeing him again sparked new feelings. Feelings that she couldn't control now thanks to him.

"Thank you."

She couldn't look him directly in the eye.

"No problem, love. You have a good day, Miss Kittie."

Erik smiled at her and walked away, leaving her breathless. Kittie gathered herslef and continued on her way. When she got to her apartment, She was about to open the door with her keys until Ashley opened the apartment door for her.

"Hey sis! I saw you coming on the camera."

She stood back, Kittie’s eyes scanning Ashley up and down, admiring the oversized sailor moon hoodie she wore like a dress. Ashley shut the door behind Kittie.

"You okay?" Ashley asked.

What Ashley doesn’t know is that Kittie was having a late-night gym session in the apartment complex the other evening and she caught a glimpse of Mr. Erik walking out of the sauna naked. He was dripping with sweat and his skin looked smooth and soft. Kittie was too busy staring that she hadn’t realized he noticed her looking...

“Woah—I didn’t know anybody would be here this late.”

He quickly covers his front with a bunched up towel.

“I’m Kittie.” She spoke weakly and in sort of a daze.

Erik quirked a brow and walked up to Kittie, holding out his much larger hand, “Erik. I haven’t seen you around here before. Did you just move in?”

Kittie focused her eyes on his face, taking in his brown eyes that reminded her of cognac and his plump lips were moist and soft-looking. Her eyes roamed his hair and she loved the way his locs sat over his forehead.

“Did you hear me?”

Kittie blinked to focus, “I–I’m sorry…what did you say?”

Slowly, a half-dimpled smirk teased her eyes and with his slightly partied lips she could see a glint of gold slugs.

“Did you just move in?” He repeats, but slower this time around.

“Yes. Me and a friend from college.”

He smelled rugged, woodsy, and strong. She was falling apart.

Erik tears his eyes away from Kittie to look down at his current appearance. He’s basically naked in front of her and he just met her.

“I think I better get going,” Erik starts backing away, “It was nice meeting you, Kittie, I’ll see you around sometime.”

Erik quickly turned once he entered the mens locker room to get dressed. With him gone, Kittie exhaled, pressing a hand over her heart. It didn’t make sense how fine that man was. She couldn’t wait to tell Ashley.

The entire apartment was decorated to fit Ashley and Kittie’s interests. Lots of pink & lots of cutesy decor.

“… He’s so fucking sexy, Ash,” kitty flops down on their white sofa, “I think I’ve seen him around Campus before. Isn’t he that Physics professor?”

Ashley climbed onto the sofa next to Kittie.

“You know I wouldn’t know anything about that. I wonder if we can find a faculty photo of him.” Ashley suggested.

“Good idea,” Kittie retrieved her lap top from her bag, “Let’s see if we can find him.”

“So,” Ashley twirled one of the drawstrings on her hoodie, “You said he was…naked?”

“Yes. Body glistening, dick nice and hard…”

“Wish I could have seen that,” Ashley said.

“It took all of my strength not to get down on my knees and worship that dick with my mouth.”

“I bet…do you think he’s single?” Ashley questioned.

“Found him!”

Ashley scooted closer to Kittie to see for herself. She recognized him. He wore glasses in the picture with his locs braided back. He teaches physics and intro to engineering. He has a doctorate in engineering. Ashley couldn’t agree more with Kittie. Erik is damn fine. She wanted to sink her claws into that. Ashley glanced at Kittie and smiled with a mouthful of braces, but the wheels in her head were turning. How was she going to get a piece of the professor without Kittie knowing about it?

“He’s fucking hot.” Ashley said.

“I knowww, and I want him!” Kittie replied with a whiny voice.

“Lucky you got to see him naked.”

Kittie shut her laptop.

“I think he lives right across the hall from us.” Kittie mentioned.

Ashley perked up. Right across the hall? She’d definitely have a shot at running into him.

“Anyways, let me finish unpacking. I have a paper to finish.”

Kittie stood up from the couch and grabbed her things, heading to her room. Ashley had some things to do herself. Studying was one of them. But what she’d rather be studying is Erik’s dick.

“Same! Pizza for dinner?” Ashley asked.

“Sure! We can order in.” Kittie responded.

“This was my sixth F grade of the night, damn.”

Professor Erik Steel put a big fat F on another physics exercise and tossed the paper on top of a growing messy pile at his desk. He rubbed his temples with his fingers before removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. His eyelids drooped, heavy with weariness.

Erik has been overworked and over stressed since the start of the new semester. It’s as if his students came back from winter break with no brain. Sure, physics can be understandably challenging, but Erik took the necessary steps to make sure they understood the material. Practice exercises were given in abundance. His office hours were open before and after class. He took his time to explain equations and everything at its most fundamental level. He broke it down like a high school teacher time and time again and still, they just can’t grasp it.

Before he could power off his laptop and call it a night, Erik heard a knock on his apartment door. Puzzled, Erik checked his rolex for the time. It was after 9 PM. No one he could think of off the top of his head would be knocking on his door at this time of evening unannounced. Erik placed his glasses over his eyes and stood up from his desk. He walked out into the living room and stood before his door.

Erik peered through his peephole and noticed a young woman with a tray of brownies. Erik furrowed his brows and slowly began unlocking his door. He opened it slightly, his face appearing between the crack of the door. She was wearing a baby pink slip dress with a matching robe. A Hello Kitty headband had her long, curly brown extensions pushed back from her forehead. She had an adorable round face and big brown eyes with long lashes.

She smiled at Erik with a mouth full of hardware and waved at him excitedly. Erik finally opened the door fully, and when he stood within his doorway, she was at least 5’3 Fun sized just like the girl he’d ran into the other evening at the gym. He wondered how she was doing.

“Hello.” Erik greeted the girl.

“Hi! I’m Ashley, your new neighbor,” she held out her hand with nails painted white, “Nice to meet you finally! I live across the hall.”

Erik’s eyes followed her finger to the door directly across from him.

“I’m Erik. You wouldn’t happen to be Kittie’s neighbor, are you?” Erik questioned.

Ashley smirked, showing off her dimples.

“I am! We’re friends from school. I made some brownies and…well…we won’t eat them all so I figured you might like some.”

She held up a round pink and white striped platter filled with brownies and wrapped in saran wrap. Erik noticed little colorful sprinkles on them and smirked.

“Cosmic brownies from scratch?”

Ashley giggles, “Yes. They used to be my favorite growing up.”

Erik accepted the brownies and he could smell the chocolatey goodness. The platter was still warm too. He had a weakness for fresh baked goods. Ashley bat her lashes at him. She was gorgeous. Definitely more sex appeal than Kittie. He expected her to turn and leave but she remained standing there, staring at him longingly.

“You should try one. I made it with love.”

Erik unraveled the Saran Wrap and snatched a soft brownie off the top. His mouth began to water the more he brought that brownie to his lips. He could see little melted chocolate chips. Erik opened his mouth and his teeth sank into the brownie. Instantly, he was rewarded with the richest, sweetest dessert.

“Mmmmm,” Erik shut his eyes as he chewed, “This is amazing.”

Ashley watched him finish the brownie. Hers memorized the way his lips moved, the shape of his tongue, and his teeth. She could have sworn that she saw a hint of gold in his mouth…

“Thank you. I plan to eat all of these.” Erik said.

“You’re welcome.”

Ashley smiled at Erik and still, she just stood there, her eyes moving up and down his body.

“Is there something else you wanted to say?” Erik asked with a single elevated brow.

“Uhm…I just wanted to say that if you need anything…more brownies…sugar…just knock on our door. We don’t bite.”

Her voice was as sweet as those brownies.

“I’ll keep that in mind, good night, Ashley. And tell Kittie I said hello.”

Ashley beamed, “Will do! Good night, Erik.”

Ashley gave him a final wave before walking away with a purposeful switch in her hips. She definitely had a lot of ass. Erik tilted his head to look at that beautiful backside before she disappeared behind her door.

He made his way back inside and shut and locked his door. Erik pressed his back against it and his eyes descended to his crotch. His dick was rock hard and displaying a hefty print. He wondered if Ashley noticed. Erik shook his head and made his way back to his office. Once there, he picked up his empty wine glass to refill it. A soft bing sounded from his laptop and Erik went to check it. It was an email.

He opened the attachment and read the words in pink letters.

Open if you dare.

Sitting the tray of brownies down and his wine glass, Erik opened that email. It seemed to cause a disruption on his computer. The screen began to glitch out of control like those old antenna televisions. Erik sat down at his desk, leaning in and pressing various keys. He was ready to panic until he pressed the enter key and what emerged before his eyes peeked his interest so fast he’d forgotten about the hack.

The three pink dots blinked one by one. Erik recognized that face straight away. It was Kittie. He stared at his screen open-mouthed. The sight of her dressed like such a slut was nothing compared to how she looked when they ran into each other in the gym. So, her and Ashley are pretty much the same in terms of pretty little sluts go. She was just as built. Two for the price of one.

Erik entered, his anticipation getting the best of him. A screen popped up with Kittie’s face and her holding a pink stuffed animal.

She looked delicious. Words started going across the screen and Erik’s cognac eyes moved back and forth, reading the text.

I’m Kittie. And I’m looking for a daddy to fuck me like I deserve. In order to get your reward in the end, you have to prove to me that you deserve to slut me out. I’m going to give you three challenges to complete. The further you go, the harder they become. Are you ready to begin your first challenge, professor?

Erik took a second to think. If he completed these challenges, he would get a chance to fuck his cute neighbor. Kittie has been on his mind all night. He found himself fisting his dick beneath the shower in the men’s locker room last night. She looked so innocent with her glasses and her nervous expression. He couldn’t help that his dick is thick and long. She was staring at his stick like she never saw a dick in her life. Now, he knew that she’s a freaky bitch. He wanted her ass even more.

Erik accepted the first challenge and a tiny white envelope popped up on his screen.

Open to see your first challenge:

Erik clicked on the envelope and he was sent another photo of Kittie that had him groaning into his closed fist. His dick was pressing against the seam of his slacks.

This is me right now. All alone. In need of a daddy. I haven’t had dick in so long. Tell me, what would you do to me if you were here right now?

So, she wanted him to play into a fantasy. This was a piece of cake. Erik decided to get himself more comfortable before starting. He removed his white dress shirt, tie, and black slacks. Sitting in just his grey briefs and black dress socks, Erik cracked his knuckles and started typing.

As soon as I open that door, I would take in the sight of you first. My eyes would roam up and down your frame, drinking you in and biting my lip. I’d tell you how sexy you look for daddy and ask you if this is all for me.

Erik waited with a racing heart. Her reply popped up within a minute.

Yes, daddy, it’s all for you. I picked it out just for you. I’m so happy that you love it. Let me turn around so you can see how it looks from the back…

She sent another attachment and Erik wasted no time opening it.

“Fuckkkkk.”

She sent him a video this time and that ass looked as soft as dough and it moved like jello. Erik was speechless and rock hard. He grabbed his dick through his briefs and squeezed the heft of it. His balls were already full of cum. He wanted to beat his stick so bad.

Damn, baby girl, it looks even better from the back. Mmmm…this all for me? You’re so sweet…I can’t wait to undress you. Take my time and remove every piece before putting my whole face in it.

Why wait? Take it all off of me now…I can’t wait anymore, daddy. My pussy is so wet…please hurry…

Stay just like that…good girl…mmm, look at that pretty pussy…can daddy keep these little panties? I can’t wait to bury my face in them.

Yes, I want you to keep them so you can think about me. The more you use them, the better you’ll fuck me. My sweet scent will keep that dick nice and hard for me when you get home. You’ll fuck me better…

Erik smirked. Biting his bottom lip, he typed a response.

And daddy won’t stroke his dick because I want you to get the biggest cum load in your mouth when I get home. Every single day I expect you to be ready and on your knees, that mouth open and that tongue out. If I sniff your panties all fucking day…you’ll get rewarded with eight hours of nut. I expect you to swallow it all.

I’ll swallow it, but I hope you’ll cover me all over with that tasty nut. And what if I want it in my pussy? Don’t I deserve it in my pretty little pussy, daddy? I’ve been such a good girl for you. Haven’t touched my kitty all day. No matter how wet I was…

Can I see that dick?

Erik stood up at his desk and slipped his briefs down. He took his seat again and in one hand he gripped his girth firm at the base, swinging it up and down. One look at his fat dick and it was leaking pre-cum.

Daddy is so hard, baby girl. It’s throbbing out of control. Seeing you like this with that wet pussy out got me ready to explode. I should punish you for making daddy stay hard like this all day. I was trapped in my office all day with a hard dick, baby. Fuck…

Beat that dick for me, but don’t cum.

With a twist of his wrist, Erik strokes his dick. Up and down, he slowly pumped his dick into his fist. As his fist went back up, he twisted his hand over his tip. Erik’s eyes became slits and his head went back. Bringing his head forward again, glasses fogging up because of his deep breaths, he watched his movements. His toned hips are in sync with his hand.

Just like that. Think about how my pussy will feel on that tongue.

Erik groaned. That pussy print was fat in her panties. He loved fat pussy. More for him to put in his mouth. He could feel that tingling in his balls. He could feel the veins in his throbbing dick against the palm of his hand. It was warning him that it was time to bust a load.

STOP.

Erik let go of his dick, but it was still pointed to the ceiling like a traffic cone.

I can see you, professor.

Erik’s eyes focused on the tiny camera. How was she able to do this? It doesn’t matter. He wanted her. NEEDED HER.

You did good, professor. You can’t finish, but it’s okay. The reward will be amazing. Until tomorrow. Xoxo

Kittie.

Erik heard a soft knock on his door. He stood up and quickly slipped on his briefs, grunting from how his dick felt straining against the fabric. As he walked, his dick poked out of the opening in the crotch area. He shook his head before opening his door, he looked around and his eyes went down to find a small pink box wrapped in a white satin ribbon.

Erik grabbed the box quickly and after shutting his door he opened it where he stood. The ribbon slipped from his fingers and fell onto his dick. He was that stiff. He opened the box and his jaw tightened. Gently, his thick fingers grasped the edge of a pair of pink and white lace panties with little white bows on them. The same panties Kittie had on in that picture.

The box dropped to the floor—forgotten. Erik pressed his sturdy back against the door and brought her panties to his face. He inhaled, his eyes rolling shut. She smelled amazing. His dick bobbed up and down. It was a shame he couldn’t cum. He would play along for now, but as soon as he got his hands on her…

Game over.

Earlier:

Ashley accepted the box of pepperoni, stuff-crust pizza and tipped the delivery guy. Shutting the door, Ashley walked with her feet cozy in a pair of pink bunny slippers towards the dining room. There, Kittie was sitting in a pair of pink shorts with a white baby tee. Ashley sat the box down in the center of the table and Kittie slid her a paper plate with a floral pattern on it. The girls tucked into their food with smiles and happy bellies.

“I was thinking about baking brownies later. Do you think Erik would want some?”

Kittie’s brown feline eyes looked up at Ashley from her plate. She gave her a skeptical look and Ashley simply looked at her with a blink of her eyes.

“Your special brownies, Ash?” Kittie asked.

“Mhm.”

“Ash…I know exactly what you’re trying to do. I’m not stupid.”

Ashley rolled her eyes.

“Okay, FINE. I want to see what’s good with Erik too.”

Kittie laughed.

“I should have known! You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Kittie gave Ashley a teasing look.

“You shouldn’t have told me! Ugh!”

“Well, I saw him first,” Kittie said with a mischievous grin, “I bet you he’s thinking about me right now.”

“I can change that,” Ashley smiles, “When I go over to give him my brownies, he’ll want me.”

“So, you want to compete with me?” Kittie asked.

“No need, I’ll win!” Ashley spoke with confidence.

“How about we put our tech skills to the test. We each devise a game for the professor to play and whoever fails, gets to fuck him.”

“Hmm,” Ashley looked heavenward, “So, if I win, I get to have that dick all to myself?”

“Yes,” Kittie grabbed another slice of pizza, “I can make use of that personal project I’ve been working on that I told you about. It would be perfect.”

“Deal. May the best win.”

————

Professor Erik Steel erased his white board filled with acceleration formulas. All of his students were gone and before class they had a lengthy, important conversation about passing his class. Future mathematicians, engineers, and architects were amongst him. They had to do better. Erik grabbed his navy blue blazer that matched his navy blue slacks from the back of his chair. Briefcase in hand, He turned off the lights in his classroom and shut the door.

His office was down the hall. It was a small space but it did give him some privacy. He said hello to other professors as he walked, and the closer he got, the more he noticed that his office door had been opened. Erik took long strides towards the door and pushed it open with his hand. There was no one there, but his desktop computer was booted up. Erik shut his office door and walked around the desk.

His eyes noticed the same glitch that happened to his laptop the other night. He quickly closed the blinds to his office door and walked back over to his desk. Taking a seat, Erik adjusted his tie and swallowed spit. This must be challenge number two. How risky to challenge him while he’s at work. He had another class within an hour.

Erik pressed enter and the picture this time before his eyes shocked him. He wasn’t expecting this turn of events.

Erik didn’t hesitate. So, Ashley wanted to play too? Erik clicked on the little white envelope and his eyes bore into his screen.

Damn. Damn. Damn. He loved the little dress covered in strawberries. And her hair? She switched it up.

You can call me Baby Ashley. I’m a slut for you, professor. Do you like my little outfit? I wore it to school today. You’ve been on my mind ever since I gave you those brownies. I have a little game for us to play today. Are you ready?!

Erik pressed enter at the same time a knock came to his office door.

Let me in.

Erik cleared his throat before sitting up in his chair.

“It’s open.” He said.

The door handle turned and it opened to reveal Ashley. She had books in her hand and a bright smile on her face.

“Hi, professor.”

“Ashley,” Erik dipped his head in greeting, “what can I do for you, baby girl?”

Ashley walked over to him with a teasing lick of her lips. The camera crew behind her had a view of hee ass peeking out from beneath her little dress. She sat at the edge of his desk, sitting her books down behind her. She leaned into Erik and grabbed him by the tie. He bit down on his lip and stared her directly in the eyes.

“I have a little gift for you,” Ashley picked up a pink box with a white satin ribbon from on top of her books, “this is for you, professor.”

She handed Erik the box and stood up, walking around to the front of his desk. Erik opened the box to find a little remote. His eyes connected with Ashley.

“That remote will control the vibrator in my panties. If you can make me cum in three minutes, I’ll let you fuck me…right here in your office, professor.”

“Just like that, huh?” Erik twirled the controller in his hand, “Aight…”

He stood up and walked over to Ashley. She froze when his body pressed against hers. The height difference between them turned her on something vicious. His eyes looked from her, down to the vibrator in his hand. He pressed the button and a low rumble could be heard between them. Ashley swayed where she stood. Her mouth opened and her eyebrows creased.

She grabbed onto Erik for balance. Erik watched her with a penetrating gaze. She gasped when he increased the speed of the vibrations. Her legs began to shake out of control and she moaned loudly. Anybody could hear her. Anybody could walk up to that door and hear her cries of ecstasy.

“Shhh, you can’t make too much noise, baby,” Erik whispered to her, “I know that pussy feels good, but you have to be a good girl and stay as silent as you can. You don’t want daddy to get in trouble, do you?”

“Unh….” Ashley dragged her nails down Erik’s chest, “No, daddy.”

“If you continue to be a good girl, then we can have fun like this in my office anytime,” Erik grabbed a fist full of her hair to force her to look up at him, “Can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yes, professor,” Ashley looked at his lips.

“Baby Ashley…you ain’t never see how I get down, huh? It’s okay if you’re late to the party…you won’t be disappointed.”

A minute had gone by. Erik increased the speed again and Ashley buried her face against his chest. Her slit was being tortured by that vibrator. She could feel herself creaming into her panties.

“You’re such a slut, Ashley. How do you think Kittie would feel if she found out her roommate wanted this dick too?”

Ashley nibbled on her lip. She couldn’t open her mouth to speak. Two minutes had gone by and it was all or nothing. Erik changed things up and wrapped his hand around her neck. She gasped, her glossy eyes staring up at him.

“You better cum, Ashley, if you want this dick, you better cum. The only loser here is you. Because guess what? You won’t get to have this dick. You won’t get to suck it…to fuck–it.”

Oooo, shit,” her legs shook, “I’m gonna cu—”

Ashley writhed against him.

“That’s it, cum for daddy…cum for daddy, bitch.”

Erik turned off that vibrator and picked Ashley up. He put her on her back on a sofa in his office and reached beneath her dress to take off her panties. The camera focused on Ashley’s face and she looked directly into the screen, licking her lips. His mouth was on her neck and his fingers ripped her panties from her body.

The pieces of fabric fell to the floor. Erik gripped her by the jaw, causing her head to lift from the couch. His teeth latched onto her jaw and he nibbled on her flesh.

“Professor,” Ashley tried to get his attention, “you didn’t make me cum in three minutes…”

Erik looked at her like she was out of her mind.

“Fuck you mean?” He questioned.

Ashley sat up, afraid to look him in the eye. Instead, her eyes dropped down to his crotch.

“My phone had gone off. You went three seconds over…”

Erik glared at her. It did nothing but turn Ashley on. He cocked his head to the side before leaning over Ashley on the couch. His eyes bore into hers intently.

“You come into my office, and play games with me. Nah…”

His voice was deep and menacing.

“I think you owe me, baby girl. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Ashley was startled when she felt Erik’s thick fingers push past her opening. He stroked her spot with the pads of his fingers with one hand while his other hand unfastened his pants. Ashley whimpered deep in her throat the more Erik’s fingers slid in and out of her pussy.

“Open your legs, I wanna see that pretty pussy.”

She spread as wide as she could. Erik was blessed with a smooth pussy covered in a creamy mess.

“Imagine how good my dick would have felt deep in this puss, baby.”

His dick was finally freed from its restrictions and Ashley’s mouth went agape. She was damn near cross-eyed looking at it.

“This the dick you ain’t getting since you wanna worry about three fucking seconds. Now, you get to watch daddy bust a fat nut all over you. Too bad…”

His thumb was on her clit now, flicking it up and down. Her thighs shook out of control and Erik chuckled darkly at that.

“Just think, if it was my dick instead of my fingers. I’d have you leaking all over my shit in a minute.”

“Mmmm, Erik,” Ashley cried, “Please, that dick is so fucking big, “I want it.”

“I thought this was your game? I thought you were in charge? Hmm, I guess not.”

Erik laughed at her. He tapped her mouth with his dick. Ashley opened her mouth and flicked her tongue on his fat tip.

“Look at that tongue. I love those braces.”

His fingers were deep. Ashley’s legs trembled when she felt herself squirt. Erik slapped her clit, more of her juices staining his shirt.

“You nasty, nasty bitch. Mmm,” Erik licked his fingers, “A tasty bitch too…”

He used the mess on his fingers to continue to pump his dick. Soon, he remembered Kittie’s words. Erik let go of his painfully hard dick and it swayed in Ashley’s face. He growled deep within his chest. He forgot Kittie’s rules. He wasn’t supposed to cum.

“Daddy?” Ashley gripped his dick, “Why did you stop, daddy? I was ready to suck it.”

“Fuck,” Erik watched Ashley stroke him.

She used both of her hands in a grinding motion. His nuts were so tight. Her soft hands felt like butter.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you wanna cum?”

She knew that if he did, Kittie would lose. Something told him to stay strong. To hold that nut in as long as he could for Kittie. Ashley was so hard to resist. She was right there. Pussy out, titties tempting him to pull down the front of her dress and suck. Mouth with lips so juicy the perfect fit for his big dick. Ugh.

“I do, baby, but I can’t. I gotta hold off.”

Ashley looked annoyed.

“You could have all of this to yourself…”

She sat up and Erik fixed himself. He was a mess. How was he going to go to his next class like this? Ashley fixed her dress and fluffed her hair. She giggled at Erik trying to fix his crotch.

“Too bad you lost this round. Maybe the next one you’ll do better.”

Ashley grabbed her things, face still covered in cum. Erik gave her some tissue and she cleaned up as best as she could. She waved goodbye to Erik before leaving him standing there with a hard dick.

Open to see your next challenge…

Erik was still recovering from the earlier events. He’d noticed a difference between Ashley and Kittie’s games. Kittie was better at playing than Ashley. Baby Ashley wanted that dick quick fast. He almost gave in, but the anticipation of following Kittie’s rules had him holding off on yet another orgasm. His nuts were damn near dragging because they were filled with cum. The edging was killing him.

Erik wondered what she had in store next. He was currently fresh out of the shower, a fluffy black towel hanging low from his hips. He opened the next challenge.

Daddy…am I your baby?

Erik typed a reply.

Yes. Always.

When will daddy be home? I’m waiting with my mouth open just like you wanted.

Good girl. I’m home now. I could use that wet mouth. It was so hard for daddy to be good today. I have so much to give you.

Can I come over?

Fuck yes. Bring that ass here baby girl 😩

Erik didn’t bother getting dressed. What was the point? He was about to get his dick sucked all on anyway. He was at his door before Kittie could even knock. He flung the door open and found her wearing something totally different from the picture she sent. She has on a pair of black shorts with a black crop top and a pair of glasses

She walked inside and looked around. Erik watched her take in her surroundings before her eyes fell on him again.

“Had to take a quick shower?” Kittie asked.

“I was getting myself ready for bed before you came over, but since you’re here, why don’t you get down on your knees for me.” Erik commanded.

“Not so fast, daddy,” Kittie put her hands behind her back, “You have to do what I say first before you get to feel my wet, warmth mouth.”

Erik clenched his jaw with impatience but tilted his head in acceptance. He was tired of this goddamn game. He wanted to put it in her stomach.

“I want you to talk to me nasty, Erik. The nastier you talk to me, the sluttier I am for you.”

He narrowed his eyes at Kittie, watching her like a hawk when she started dragging a single finger down his chest, looking him in the eyes with a slow, sensual blink.

Erik took that finger into his grasp, Kittie’s lips parting a fraction. Erik; eyes still on her, put Kittie’s finger in his mouth and started sucking. Her eyelids fluttered at the sensation. He paused his sucking to speak.

“You should have seen your roommate earlier,” Erik looked at her saliva-covered finger, “She was hungry for this dick. What did you tell her, huh? That I had the biggest dick you’d ever seen?”

Kittie drew her lower lip into her mouth. Her chest rose up and down with deep breaths.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“She almost made me cum, baby girl. But I remembered that Miss Kittie told me not to cum…”

Erik licked her finger while his eyes bore into hers so deeply it was as if he could see her soul. Kittie was losing her dominance in this game. That same hand, Erik lowered it to his crotch. He placed Kittie’s open palm on there and her lip quivered.

“Mmm…so big, right? Daddy’s dick is so big, princess?”

“Yes…daddy’s dick…is so…big.” Kittie struggled to say.

“Mhm,” Erik nods his head before leaning into her face. He looked down on her with a tilt of his head, sizing her up with his eyes, “after I ran into you at the gym, I couldn’t help myself…I beat my dick in the shower thinkin’ ‘bout you, girl.”

Kittie’s lips were centimeters away from Erik’s. He had her ass in the most lethal chokehold.

“I would have never guessed that you would be this much of a nasty little slut…”

He brought his lips around to her ear and exhaled a warm, gentle breath that sent shivers down her spine.

“And I plan to give you exactly what you want. This little game of yours is cute…but when I win…I’m gonna fuck you so fuckin’ good you won’t ever play another game wit’ me. When daddy wants that pussy…you give it up…”

Kittie closed her eyes when his tongue slithered up her ear.

“When I want that mouth…you suck this dick with no questions…understand?”

“Yes, daddy,” Kittie replied.

“Good fucking girl…”

She was rubbing her hand up and down his dick through the towel. Kittie moved to her knees and unraveled the towel. His dick sprung free and slapped her in the cheek. She used her mouth to catch it and made sure to look up at him.

Meanwhile, the cameras from the production crew were angled over Erik’s shoulder and from Sugar Kittie’s side. She spit on his dick, one hand jerking it, before her lips found his tip and she went to work. Kittie bobbed her head, guck guck guck so loud and disrespectful. Erik’s face looked angry—brows drawn together, bottom lip between his teeth.

“Dasssit, suck that mothafucka,” Erik grabbed her weave into a ponytail, “I got miss Sugar Kittie’s mouth to play with today.”

She looked up at him with teary eyes and a gag in the back of her throat. Kittie removed her mouth and a stream of spit dripped down her neck. Her in those sexy glasses made the moment even better.

“Good…uh-huh…gooood,” He pushed her head down to where her nose was touching his clipped pubic hair, “unhhhhhhshittt….” Erik bobbed her head over his dick, “stay on that shit, Kittie, before you make me mad.”

“Ack! Shit!” She pushed off of him to catch her breath.

Erik tutted at her like she was a bad child.

“I know where to put you,” he pulled her up by her arm, “back against the wall, Kittie.”

She put her back against the wall next to his apartment door and got down on her knees.

“Good Kittie….”

Erik approached her, swinging his dick from side to side, the cameras getting a good shot. Kitty grabbed his shaft but Erik gripped her wrists and put her arms up against the walls. With both hands in his grasp, he made Kittie open wide and he proceeded to fuck her throat.

“Here, kittie, Kittie…”

Erik withdrew his hips and his dick pressed against her lips.

“And daddy can’t cum, hmm?”

She had tears rolling down her face. He was back down her throat again. The way he looked down at her from above was dangerous. She moved that neck as best as she could in that position. Erik’s mouth opened and his eyes fluttered shut. He grunted when she deep-throated him.

Erik pulled his dick from her mouth again, “Get these nuts too, baby, can’t forget that…”

She put her face in it. Sloppy and raunchy. Erik laughed, grinding his hips against her face.

“Aight, back on this dick,” He let go of her wrists and one hand gripped her chin tight while the other fisted her hair, “That’s a good girl, give daddy that throat.”

Sugar Kittie was holding her weight. She knew he was going to give her a run for her money. She’d seen him in action. Erik Steel didn’t play.

“Stayyyy,” he threw his head back and moaned, “your mouth is so warm. You look so pretty sucking this big dick, baby…fuuuck….shit—”

Erik pulled her mouth off with a yank of her hair. He was about to bust. He was so close. Spit dripped from his dick to the floor. Kittie tried to catch her breath. She smiled up at Erik while wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Erik picked her up and stuck his tongue down her throat. They kissed sloppily for a while, Erik slapping her on the ass.

“You almost made me cum,” He smirked against her mouth, “Did daddy win this challenge?”

“Yes,” Kittie said with a nod of her head, “just one more and this one is the best.”

“It better be.” Erik said.

Ashley was seething. She knew that Kittie had gone to see Erik last night. There’s no telling what they both did. She was close to having that dick deep inside of her, but he didn’t give in because of Kittie. She had to get him to herself. It was time for round two.

It was the next afternoon, at school, when Ashley decided to strike again. From her laptop in the library, she could see Professor Steel enter with his briefcase. He wore a white button-down shirt and a pair of khakis. His clothes stretched over his body perfectly. He found a back table—out of sight—so he could focus on his work.

Ashley checked the time on her laptop. Smirking, she sent the professor his second game. This one involved her being a passenger princess. She was excited. Ashley waited on the other side of the book stacks, sneakily watching him as he opened his next challenge. Erik sat up straighter in his chair and looked around the nearly empty library. He didn’t spot her.

Good afternoon, professor! I’ve missed you since our last meeting in your office 😘 looks like you’re finished for the day. Do you like my outfit? I had all eyes on me today at school. The only one I wanted to impress was you. I don’t have a ride home today, I’m currently without a car until it gets fixed. Do you mind giving me a ride back to the apartment? Please? 🥺

I promise it will be worth it.

Ashley could see Erik reaching down between his legs to grab his dick through his pants. He started typing a response that Ashley already knew would be the answer.

Of course I like your sexy little outfit. Sure, I can give you a ride home, baby girl. Anything for you.

Ashley packed her things and made her way towards him. Erik looked up from his laptop when he noticed her coming from behind one of the many book shelves. She was wearing that same outfit from the picture. Ashley waved to him and Erik stood, quickly putting his things away.

“Ready?” He asked her, his eyes roaming all over her body.

“Yes. Thank you for being so nice, professor.”

They walked out of the library side by side. A camera was placed on the dashboard to film them while Erik was driving. They both walked towards the faculty portion of the parking lot and up to Erik’s red Ferrari SF90. He opened the door for Ashley after taking her school bag to put in the back. After he climbed inside, he shut his door and started the car.

Looking over at her, she placed one hand in his lap, rubbing him close to his dick. Erik pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. Ashley used that same hand to rest over his crotch. Erik made his dick jump against her hand.

“I felt that, professor. Are you trying to tell me something?” Ashley questioned with a sweet voice.

Erik looked at her before focusing back on the road.

“What exactly does this second game require of me, Ashley?”

Ashley giggled, “Nothing you can’t handle I’m sure. I’ll be your passenger princess while you drive. I’ll take care of this dick with my mouth, and you have to get us home without cumming.”

He was growing exhausted of holding off his nut.

“You and Kittie love to play games. I’m tired of this shit.” Erik said with a deep, threatening voice.

“You love our games, Professor, you don’t have to lie.”

Ashley used both hands now to undo his pants. The sound of his zipper was loud. Erik’s head went back against his headrest and he switched to driving one-handed. Ashley unfastened her seatbelt and arched over into his lap. Her little pink skirt lifted and he could see her pink thong. Erik reached over to pop her on the ass hard.

“Mmmm, look at all this ass, baby, so much fucking ass.”

He lifted her skirt up some more. Meanwhile, Ashley was too busy reaching past his briefs to grab his dick. She wrapped her fingers around his girth and whipped him out. Opening wide, careful not to snag him with her braces, Ashley wrapped her lips around his tip while one of her hands cuffed his sack to keep him upright.

“Shit, fuck,” Erik was fighting the urge to watch her suck him off, “That wet ass mouth. Spit on that shit, Brace-face.”

Ashley giggled at his nickname. She spit on his tip and it cascaded down his shaft. Erik drew his lip from between his teeth, lip poked out, showing off his gold slugs. He gripped the stirring wheel tighter and finally he came to a red light.

“You had to take it up a notch, huh? Look at that tongue work,” Erik grabbed his phone quickly from his pocket and started recording Baby Ashley, “Oooohhhh shit.”

She looked up into the camera with her big, brown eyes. Erik made sure to scan her body with his phone, getting everything into view. He multitasked by focusing his eyes straight into the camera on the dashboard. The light turned green and he wasn’t too far away from the apartment.

“Kittie had me close to nutting down her throat last night. Think you can make daddy do the same?”

Erik didn’t wait for a response. He gripped her hair and forced her head down. His foot pressed down on the accelerator when she did this thing with her jaws like she was squeezing his dick.

They finally arrived the apartment. Erik parked his car half-hazardously and dropped his eyes down at Ashley.

“Get that dick down your fucking throat, Ashley,” Erik palmed the back of her head, “there you go, dasssitt,” he lifted his hips from the seat to feed her more dick, “show me you can throat all this dick, bitch.”

Ashley turned her gaze onto the dashboard while Erik abused her throat. He fucked her mouth, hips moving faster, balls bouncing out of control and covered in spit. He yanked her hair again to pull her mouth from his dick and she spit on him again. Ashley started jerking him off while Erik pressed his forehead against hers.

“Pump that big dick…pump that dick…down to the balls…up to the tip…uhnnnnnhhhhhhhhh…you’re my good little passenger princess? You’re my nasty little bitch?”

He made his voice sound all whiny and Ashley almost lost it. Erik used his teeth on her again and attacked her neck. Ashley let go of his dick to watch it sway back and forth. She slapped it around, amazed at how stiff it is. Erik removed his face from her neck and watched, face frowned with lust, stare at the long stream of pre-cum oozing from his tip.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Erik’s body seized up, “Ima bust, baby, I can’t hold it anymore.”

His voice trembled when Ashley started sucking some more. It’s been three days and no nut. He was fighting the urge to hold back but she was sucking that shit like an icy on a hot summer day.

“You nasty fucking bitch, how fucking dare you—here it comes—”

Ashley prided in herself when Erik came down her throat. It was rewarding and abundant. His hips bucked and his head fell back with defeat. Ashley giggled with cum-covered braces. He lost, and even though this meant that Kittie had more of a shot at fucking him than she did, at least she got to taste him. At least she got to swallow his cum.

“Game over, fuck that,” Erik said between breaths, “You knew what you were doing.”

Erik kissed her with his cum still on her lips. She jerked his sloppy girth while sticking her tongue out towards the camera. Somehow, Erik felt that wasn’t all of it.

“Cant wait to rub this one in her face,” Ashley said.

Sugar Kittie was in her room, playing a game. Her headset was over her ears, so she couldn’t hear Ashley entering her room. Ashley was all smiles, confident in what she’d accomplished—making Erik Steel cum with her mouth.

Ashley tapped Kittie on the shoulder. Kittie paused her game and removed her headset, turning in her pink gamer chair.

“What’s all this mess on your bed?”

Ashley motioned to Sugar Kittie’s bed. It was covered in sex toys. What Kittie didn’t want to share was that she’d been dreaming about Erik fucking her brains out. She was so horny and wet that she decided to go through her toy box to see if most of her toys still worked. She found her Sailor Moon butt plugs that she’d been looking for and put one in her ass while making herself cum all morning. She had a big mess to clean.

“I was in the middle of organizing my toy box but decided to hop online for a little bit. Why are you smiling like that?”

Ashley was too giddy not to share with Kittie.

“Oh nothing much, just a little run-in with our professor.”

Ashley took a seat on the edge of Kittie’s bed, sliding some dildos out of the way so she wouldn’t sit on them. She could see that Kittie was growing irritated the more she sat in silence.

“Well? What happened?” Kittie pressed.

Ashley inspected her long, pink nails, “Just a little blow job…with a tasty reward at the end.”

Kittie’s mouth fell open. Ashley smiled brightly.

“I got to play passenger princess and suck his dick. His cum tastes like pineapples.”

Ashley made a slurping noise with her mouth. Kittie tossed a tiny stuffed animal at Ashley’s head.

“He wasn’t supposed to cum! Ugh,” Kittie tossed her controller on top of her desk, “So that means what? He lost?”

“Technically, but isn’t there supposed to be another round for each of us?”

“Yeah.” Kittie said with a flat tone. She was pissed that Ashley got to taste his cum.

“He’s done playing anyway. He said he’s tired of our games.”

Kittie didn’t know what to expect now. Was he finished all together? Did he like Ashley’s mouth more than her? She saw him first. She was the true throat goat.

“I’m gonna take a shower. No need to be all sad, Kittie, the best girl wins. Apparently, I suck dick better than you.”

“Lies!” Kittie fired back.

Ashley blew Kittie a kiss and left the room, laughing to herself.

“Bitch,” Kittie folded her arms.

Meanwhile, Erik had a few words for Sugar Kittie. He got himself cleaned up and put on a white T-shirt and some grey sweats. He walked across the hall to their door and knocked. When they didn’t answer on the first knock, Erik pounded. Sure enough, the woman he wanted to see opened the door. She wore a blond wig with a tiny white blouse and grey shorts that fit her two sizes too small. Erik’s eyes started at her feet covered in white thigh-high stockings and then all the way up to her cleavage spilling over the top of her bra.

“Erik?” Kittie didn’t expect him.

“Can I come in?”

She stepped aside and he walked over the threshold. Erik felt as if he’d stepped into another dimension. It was sickeningly adorable how much pink surrounded him. Kittie stepped in front of him with a glare.

“You came, you weren’t supposed to cum.” She said.

Erik looked at her.

“You didn’t expect me to hold that in for three days straight, did you?”

Kittie rolled her eyes away from Erik, “You let her get a taste before me.”

“Kittie,” Erik tried to grab her arm but Kittie stormed off in the direction of her room. Erik was right on her tail. He caught the door in his hand before she could slam it shut. In the distance, he could hear the shower running.

“Daddy’s sorry, baby. She was sucking on my dick so good. I couldn’t control it.”

“But you controlled it for me,” Kittie turned her back to Erik, “It’s not fair. I played the game better. I should have been the one to taste you first.”

Erik exhaled, shutting Kittie’s door slightly. Anime covered the walls and she had manga and little collectibles on a book shelf. The carpet was fuzzy and white and it smelled like lavender and vanilla. His eyes fell to her bed surrounded with sex toys. He arched a single brow at her. Kittie looked up at him with timid eyes.

“I was organizing.”

Erik knew better.

“No…looks like you were having some fun. Without me?”

“You were too busy getting your dick sucked to notice.” Kittie argued.

He walked up to her slowly while she took a few steps back. The back of her legs hit the bed and she lost her footing. Erik was standing over her, his imposing body trapping her there.

“That’s in the past. I’m here now, aren’t I? And I think we both know what’s about to happen…”

Erik picked up a toy that was red at the base with a silicone pink tongue. It reminded him of the rose, same mechanics. Kittie watched him inspect the toy, her heart racing.

“I think it’s time we do things my way now. Play time is over, Kittie.”

Erik sat the toy down momentarily and lifted his shirt over his head from behind. His muscles flexed without much effort. Kittie’s eyes roamed his body hungrily. He got closer, leaning over her until she was on her elbows. The soft material of her thigh-high stockings tickled his waist. Erik took both of her meaty thighs in his grip, pushing them back so she would be spread open for him. He pressed his body against hers and started dry-pounding her clothed pussy. The friction was so sweet. He climbed off of her and with her thighs still opened, Erik grabbed both of her ankles.

“Daddy,” Kittie spoke weakly.

“Let’s see how much you can take this toy on your clit…you think you can do that?”

Kittie nodded her head. Erik let her legs down and instructed for her to stand. The camera in the room focused on Sugar Kittie and all of her curves. Erik stood behind her and while looking over her shoulder, he kissed along her neck while untying her white blouse. It fell open, revealing a pink push-up bra. Both of them looking down into the camera, Erik cupped her breasts and squeezed. Sugar Kittie reached behind her to caress Erik’s neck.

“Mmm,” She moaned.

“They fit so nicely in my hands.” Erik whispered.

Kittie turned her head and poked out her tongue for Erik to suck on. His thumbs stroked her nipples through her bra. There was a camera taped to the ceiling to get good shots from above.

He trailed his fingers up and behind him to unclamp her bra. When it fell from her shoulders, Erik didn’t waste time palming both of her titties. He pinched her brown nipples and pulled, eliciting a whimper from Kittie.

“I could suck on these all day…too bad they don’t have any milk…I’d drink you dry, baby.”

She couldn’t hold back her moan. He was so nasty.

Erik nibbled on her shoulder and made his way down to his knees, his mouth creating a path towards her stomach. He kissed her belly button and with his eyes never leaving hers, he found the waistband to her shorts and pulled. The more they fell past her hips, the more he noticed that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

To see that pussy face to face for the first time left him speechless. She had a landing strip above her phat pussy lips that Erik trailed with his tongue. Erik kissed her hips and made his way up until his mouth latched onto her left nipple. Kittie gripped his hair and stared into the camera while Erik devoured her. He went from nipple to nipple, sucking and nibbling.

“Ooh, yes,” Kittie moaned, “I love your mouth, daddy.”

He bounced her titties and motor-boated her. His tongue and lips didn’t leave any part of her untouched. He latched onto her neck again and Kittie’s hand found its way to his crotch. The camera zoomed in on her hand groping him through his grey sweats. Erik grunted before bringing a hand up to her neck. It was all eyes on him at all times. Kittie blinked her feline eyes at him while they kissed.

“This dick is so big in my hand….”

“Too much for you?” Erik questioned, his lips touching hers, “It shouldn’t be with the way you were throating if the other day.”

“I can take this dick in my pussy,” Kittie replied with a hushed voice.

Erik walked Kittie over to the bed again, his hand stil around her neck, pushing her down gently. She bounced, the springs in the bed creaking. Erik made himself comfortable behind her and instructed for Kittie to spread her legs wide and lean back against him. He picked up that vibrating tongue and activated it. The vibrations seemed strong. Erik guided a hand between her legs again and found her clit with his finger tips.

“Gotta get that clit nice and ready for the sweet torture, right, baby?” Erik said with a sexy, sotto voice.

“Yes.” Kittie said.

Erik traced Kittie’s nipples with the vibrating tongue. She squirmed against his chest, breasts moving from left to right. Her nipples were stiff peaks sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout her body. She could feel her wet lower lips quiver.

The camera panned over her body. Erik gave her nipples a break but her pussy wasn’t off the hook. Erik found her clit with the tip of the vibrating tongue and put it on the higher vibration. Kittie moaned, groaned, cried out for him to make her cum. Clit swollen, Kittie watched that vibrator with disbelief in her eyes.

“Keep your eyes on this pussy…I want you to watch…you see how I move it over your clit like this,” Erik strokes her clit from side to side, “Like that, Miss Kittie?” Erik questioned with a hushed tone.

“Daddy, please,” Kittie begged, “I like it, I like it, daddy!”

“"No, baby, not yet; don’t you fucking cum just yet. I’m not done with you; hold it! Keep these fuckin’ legs open till I’m done...”

Kittie’s thigh meat shook out of control. She was so wet that it covered the toy. It sounded like a pot of mac and cheese stirring. Just wet and gushy. Just before she could cum, Erik turned the toy off and tossed it on the bed. Kittie pouted and whimpered.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it? Now you see how I felt.”

Erik grabbed a hot pink dildo. He lined it up with Kittie’s pussy and pushed past her tight opening until that toy was sucked inside. He didn’t waste time pumping. She couldn’t keep still against his chest. Her legs were spread far apart for him to use her favorite toy to fuck her needy little hole. Sugar Kittie whines and moans as she grips his arm, doing her best to stay still. Her eyes cross like a brainless slut.

“You look so good…look at all that cream. I can’t wait to get that all over my dick. Shhh, you wouldn’t want Ashley to hear us, would you?”

Erik forced his fingers into her mouth so she wouldn’t startle her roommate. This was Sugar Kittie in her true state. Just a brainless little fuck toy for Erik to play with till his heart's content.

“Didn’t I say you couldn’t cum? Not until I eat this pussy, slut.”

Ashley stepped out of her bathroom, slightly cold from the temperature change. She was completely naked and she pinned her hair up. Walking past Kittie’s room to get to hers, Ashley heard moaning. She would have ignored it because she’d heard Kittie’s moans plenty of times, but there was male voice. It could only be one man. Ashley tiptoed to Kittie’s door and peeked inside. She stood shocked, mouth slightly parted and eyes wide.

Kittie was on her back, thighs spread and pussy open. Erik Steel was sucking her clit into his mouth. Kittie could do nothing but moan. Ashley had seen Kittie naked many times before, but the way she looked right now, body covered in a sheen of sweat, nipples stiff, pussy soaked, butt plug poking out like a surprise, she could feel herself growing wet.

Erik was on that pussy. Tongue and lips. He had that pussy wetter than a pond. He would take control of her hips and force her pussy to grind on his tongue. It was beautiful. She envied how she must feel right now.

Ashley couldn’t help but touch herself to this view. She brought one hand to her tittie and used her thumb to bring her nipple to life. Her other hand went to her waxed pussy and when her fingertips spread her outer lips, Ashley couldn’t believe how wet she was already. She didn’t hold back.

“Awe, baby, don’t cry.” Erik said, his fingers rubbing Kittie’s clit rapidly, “I know we can get you to finish again. Shhhh shhhh, you’re doing so well, love. You can give me one more. After that, we’ll get you all cleaned up. That’s my good girl!”

“FUCK!”

Ashley couldn’t see because Erik’s mouth was sucking that cum out like it was a Capri Sun. Kittie’s eyes drifted towards the door and when she spotted Ashley watching, she smirked at her and gave her a wink. This must of been her way to get back her.

“Daddy, am I good slut?”

“Mhm, daddy’s good pussy slut.”

Ashley and Kittie locked eyes again.

“Daddy, we have a special guest at the door.”

Erik turned his head and squinted. He stood up, beard covered in pussy juice, and flung open Kittie’s door. Erik was eating her alive with his penetrating gaze. Those big titties of hers sat jutted out, and her wide hips with a big ass to match had him thinking nasty thoughts.

“Baby Ashley. If you wanted to join us, all you had to do was ask,” Kittie teased.

“She wants to get fucked too, look at her face.”

Ashley was driven by lust. She didn’t hide her horniness.

Erik curled his finger into a come-hither motion and Ashley walked into the room. She was startled by Erik’s hands clapping her on the ass. Kittie stood up from the bed, sauntering over towards them. Erik cut his eyes at her and popped her across the ass too.

“Fuck yes,” Erik took turns slapping both of their cheeks around, “Bend it over.”

Kittie and Ashley turned their backs to Erik and got down into a twerk stance. They started bouncing their cheeks around, filling the room with a round of applause. Erik sat his dick between both women’s backs while they shook ass.

Ashley threw her ass back against Erik, moving Kittie out of the way. She started grinding up and down Erik’s dick until it fell between her cheeks. Erik whacked her on the ass hard and grabbed her hair into his fist, straightening her back and turning her to face him. Kittie took the opportunity to grind her ass on Erik’s dick. While Erik had his tongue down Ashley’s throat, Kittie twerked on his dick to gain his attention back. It seemed to work because Erik smoothed his hand down her back and and slid his fingers in her pussy from behind.

“Look at both of y’all fighting over this dick. Who should I give it to first?”

Ashley and Kittie scrambled knees, mouths open wide and tongues out. Erik gripped both of their chins and looked down on them with sultry eyes.

“Pick me, daddy, please, I’m the best. ” Kittie begged.

“Who made you cum with their mouth first?” Ashley taunted.

“Ashley, you can’t beat me in a dick-sucking contest.” Kittie fired back.

“I know I could. Why don’t we let Erik be the judge of that.”

They both blinked their eyes up Erik expectantly while he caressed their chins.

“All talk and no action, ladies. Show me who’s the best.” Erik said.

He left them on their knees and took a seat in Kittie’s pink gaming chair. They crawled to him, the camera following them from behind, a view of their phat asses and wet pussies the focal point. Erik widened his legs and grabbed his dick, jerking it towards their faces.

Kittie reached him first and without hesitation, she wrapped her lips around his tip and started swallowing him. Ashley put her face in it too, her tongue dragging over his balls.

“She got to the dick first, Ash, what was all that talk? She sucking my shit to the back of her throat right now.” Erik teased.

He smoothed Kittie’s blonde wig from her eyes to have a better view. When she came up for air, she spit on his dick and Ashley popped it in her mouth. Kittie laughed, her hand gripping Erik’s balls with spit dripping from her chin. Ashley swirled hee tongue around his tip, causing Erik to grunt. Kittie snatched the dick from her hand and with her wet eyes and ruined makeup, she slurped on Erik so good that it made the loudest, nastiest noises.

“Damn, Kittie, suck that fucking dick, girl. Get that dick,” Erik grabbed her head with both hands and fucked up into her mouth hastily.

Guck! guck! guck! guck! ahk! guck! guck! ahk!

“Fuck! Shitttttt, baby,” Erik slapped his dick on her lips, before holding it out towards Ashley’s mouth, “Your turn. Let me see if that throat still deep.”

He had Ashley’s hair in a tight fist and he scooted his hips to the edge of the chair so he could fuck her mouth. Erik’s dick darted in and out of her jaws. She gagged and spit his dick out. Kittie giggled and Erik looked at Ashley with disappointment.

“Gimmie that dick,” Kittie slapped him on her tongue and with both of her hands she twisted her wrists like she was grinding pepper. Kittie focused all of her sucking on his tip.

“That’s how you get a nut, baby. There you go…”

Ashley could only suck on his balls. Erik put her face in it with the back of his hand. His eyebrows scrunched and his mouth fell open when Kittie swallowed him again.

“Oh my god—”

Erik stood up quickly and fisted his dick towards their open mouths. Kittie and Ashley put their tongues together and caught Erik’s thick cum. They cleaned him off and Erik flopped back down in the chair.

“See what happens when you work together? Both of y’all made daddy cum.” Erik praised.

Kittie and Ashley shared a look. They couldn’t deny that their team work paid off. Ashley startled Kittie when she grabbed a handful of her titties.

“Ash?” Kittie was in shock.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you when Erik was eating your pussy. You looked so good.”

Kittie blushed, “It turned me on when you were watching me…”

Erik smirked at both of them.

“Y’all got a lot of sexual tension between y’all. I’m surprised y’all haven’t messed around.” Erik said.

Kittie gave Ashley a shy look. Ashley continued to massaged Kittie’s titties.

“I mean…I’ve always wondered what that pussy tastes like,” Ashley whispered seductively, “Maybe you could…feed my curiosity?”

Kittie was pushed down to the fluffy, white carpet.

To say that Ashley was a beast at eating pussy was an understatement. She had her ass in the air and her lips sucking on Kittie’s clit. Erik had his hands full of that big dick, stroking it slowly. Kittie tugged on her nipples whenever Ashley had her clit between her lips.

“Fuck, Ashley,” Kittie moaned, “eat that pussy, baby.”

Erik’s mouth was salivating. His dick was hard enough and it wasn’t going soft any time soon. He joined them on the floor and Kittie watched him take his place next to Ashley.

“Daddy, you want some pussy too?” Kittie asked with a sweet little voice.

He responded with his tongue on her clit. Ashley brought her wet kisses down between her folds while Erik stayed on that clit. Kittie couldn’t run even if she tried. Whenever she moved her hips, Erik had one leg while Ashley had the other.

“She’s gonna cum hard, look at her,” Ashley giggles, “awww, it feels too good?”

“Yes! Yes, oh my god,” Kittie’s entire body went into a frenzy, “Erik! ASH! FUUUCKKKKK!”

They buried their faces in it and suffocated just so they could taste her cum. Delirious, Kittie sat up and kissed Erik to taste herself. All three of them joined tongues and lips, Erik’s hands all over their asses, Ashley and Kitties moans and whimpers filling the room.

Kittie pulled away to suck on Ashley’s big titties. Ashley could feel Erik doing the same now. She sat up on her knees and felt weak with two pairs of lustful gazes on her face.

“These big titties…I wish my titties were this big…mmm…so juicy.” Kittir said.

“She loves it, look at her face,” Erik said, “Big, fucking, titties.”

Ashley could only moan.

Erik and Kittie each held a tittie and sucked on her hard nipples.

“That shit feels so damn good!”

Erik used his free hand to rub Ashley’s pussy.

“I think we should eat that pussy next…Whatchu think, Kittie?”

“I think we should eat it while she’s standing up. See if she can handle that since she talks so much shit.” Kittie said.

“Get on your feet, slut.” Erik ordered.

Ashley stood up and she didn’t have time to react when both of their tongues wiggled on her pussy. She almost lost her balance trying to lift her leg on Kittie’s desk to give them better access. Erik munched on her pussy with so much gusto Kittie had to hold Ashley’s leg out of the way. They left a trail of spit from her ass to her pussy. Kittie wiggled her tongue in her ass, holding one hefty cheek out of the way.

“Since you wanna talk so much shit. We got you right where we want you,” Kittie said with a laugh.

“That’s why she talk so much shit. She asking for us to slut her out. That’s what sluts do, right? They act out so they can get put in place. Hold that fucking leg up so I can eat this pussy!”

Ashley cried out. Kittie’s tongue in her ass and Erik’s tongue on her clit proved them right. She couldn’t handle it.

“Think cuz you got this fat ass I won’t put you in your place…”

“Fat ass and fat titties,” Kittie added.

“She creaming now, look,” Erik took the thick swathe of his tongue and slurped her pussy into his mouth to catch it.

“Shit! Unh! Uhhhhhhh!

Erik’s fingers dug into Ashely’s ass.

“Cum, bitch! Yessss! Feed daddy that cum! Show him who this pussy belong to!” Kittie encouraged Ashley.

She came so hard that her foot dropped from the table. Erik still had his face all in it. Kittie slapped Ashley on the ass.

“Good girl,” Erik’s face was glossy from her pussy juices, “I’m ready to fuck now.”

Baby Ashley and Sugar Kittie were on their backs beneath the hot pink lights. They caressed their bodies and stared up into the camera on the ceiling. Both of their ankles and wrists were bound with pink robe to keep them from moving. Erik Steel, the hottest male pornstar in the game, was standing there, dick pointed out at Kitty’s pussy first.

From above, you could see him dip his hips, dick massaging between her folds. Erik smacked it on her clit, Kittie’s fat pussy like a soft pillow. She flicked her tongue at him; teasing him, but her stomach was doing somersaults. She waited for this moment. To finally fuck Erik Steel. She was honored when he contacted her to collaborate. It still felt like a dream.

Ashley moaned from Erik’s fingers rubbing her pussy. She couldn’t wait to see him perform. Feel him inside of her. To fuck Erik Steel was equivalent to winning the lottery. That dick was the jackpot. Staring up at him—locs wild, gold in his mouth and around his neck, big dick—she knew this was going to be the best sex she’d ever had.

Erik stared between two women he’d been dying to collaborate with. He was especially excited about fucking both of them at once. Kittie was first to get the dick. With a firm grip, Erik was right at her opening. Eyes locked with hers, he pushed past and immediately her walls sucked him in.

“Unh! Oh, fuck,” She scrunched her face, “It’s so much dick!”

Erik heard it all before.

He pulled out all the way and then thrust back inside. Erik repeated this a few times, going faster each time. Dick back inside, he grabbed Kittie by the neck and started knocking her walls loose. His hips snapped sharply forward and the bed bounced and creaked beneath her.

“Shit,” Ashley watched with envy, “Fuck that pussy up, Kill!”

“Can’t go nowhere, take this dick. Don’t you fucking cum, don’t you cum without Daddy’s permission, you hear me? If you cum, Daddy’s gonna make you cum again and again until you’re shaking, begging, and pleading for me to stop. Do you understand me?”

Kittie couldn’t form a sentence.

“Oh, fuck, fuuuckkkkkk!” She cried out.

Erik’s fingers thrust inside of Ashley’s pussy. She squirmed when he found her g-spot. Erik looked from Kittie to Ashley and back.

“Kittie,” Erik warned, “Don’t make me put it deeper. Listen to daddy when he tells you to do something.”

He had his lip between his teeth and the way he watched her fall apart beneath him didn’t help. He was staring into her soul. Face neutral, dick drilling, eyes watching her.

Ashley fought hard to keep from cumming but he was fingering her pussy so good that she ended up squirting. Erik put his messy fingers in her mouth and stared at her with a mean mug on his face that would make any bitches pussy weep.

“Ima punish you wit’ this dick for that.”

“Erik!”

Kittie cried literal tears. Erik didn’t let up.

“I’m fucking cumming!” She shouted.

She convulsed and her walls spasmed around his dick. Erik grunted and pulled out, slapping her pussy hard for disobeying him.

“Y’all just do what the fuck you want, huh?”

Erik went to Ashley next. He put that dick in and she didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Got you looking stupid,” Erik had her by the ropes and started pile driving her, “Dick deep in that pussy, baby? Hm? You cum on this dick since you don’t wanna listen!”

“Why are you fucking me like that?!”

Kittie could ask the same thing. She was still spaced out.

“Dick is just deep in my pussy!”

Ashley groaned. She dropped her head to the bed and all she could see from that angle was her titties bouncing around and Erik folding her in half. He held his dick inside and wiggled his hips before picking back up again. Ashley’s eyes crossed and her mouth fell open. She poked her tongue out like a brainless slut and squirted on his dick.

He stood back and stared down at the mess all over him. His dick was shiny and brick hard from the base to the tip. He couldn’t be mad at them, his dick had that affect on women. Erik untied them both and massaged their wrists and ankles. Ashley turned around and arched her back. Kittie crawled in front of Ashley and spread her thighs so she could get her pussy ate.

Erik spread both of her cheeks and with his hips, he sank deep inside Ashley. She let out a muffled moan with her face buried between Kittie’s legs. Erik’s eyes connected with Kittie’s while he was fucking Ashley from the back.

“You like getting that pussy ate by your roommate, baby?”

“Yes. You love the way her pussy feel, daddy?”

“It’s so warm and wet, arch your back, slut!”

Ashley’s deepened the arch in her back and she tried to continue eating Kittie’s pussy but Erik was digging her out. She looked back at him and pouted her lip.

“Fuck this pussy!” Ashley shouted, “This your pussy!”

“I’m glad you know who you belong to, slut.” Erik replied.

Ashley’s arms were in Erik’s grip. He continued to deliver precise shots that she could feel in her stomach. Her face mashed against the bed and Kittie watched with satisfaction the way Erik used her.

“Get up! Fuck I say? Arch your back for daddy!”

Erik spanked her.

“Ashley, I’m not finna keep repeating myself. Stop running, girl! Shit,” Erik lifted her and plowed her pussy, “Just like that, nowhere to run, take it in that fucking pussy, uhuh, uhuh—”

“OH MY GOD!”

Ashley’s body was no longer in her control. She dropped her head forward and without a word, she came on Erik’s dick. He dropped her to the bed and she continued to shake.

Erik slapped her ass, “You did so good, baby girl. You took that shit like a pro.”

Kittie was too anxious for her turn. She arched her back so deep for Erik he didn’t even have to tell her. Erik walked around to the other side of the bed and got behind her. She looked back at him and watched Erik put that big dick in.

“Uhhhh…mmm,” Kittie shut her eyes, “Oooooooo…Daddy is so deep….”

She threw it back on Erik with a fist full of sheets. The recoil of her throw back game had him speechless. Ashley scooted over and reached beneath Kittie to rub her clit. She looked up at Erik with a bite of her lip

Erik puckered his lips at her then stuck his tongue out so she could taste it. Ashley ran her tongue over Erik’s and they kissed while Kittie put that pussy on him. He broke the kiss and licked his lips with his eyes on the way Kittie was handling him. Ashley licked his pierced nipples one by one.

“Gahhdamn, bitch! Pussy just eating this dick up!”

She was taking it better than Ashley. Erik fucked her with just his hips. That ass collided with his hips so heavy it almost knocked him back.

“Take that dick, Kittie…show out, bitch.” Ashley encouraged.

“You asking for me to nut in you, keep playing wit’ me.” Erik warned.

“Daddy, I’m cumming!”

“Make yourself cum then!” Erik barked out.

“Oh yes!—”

Erik couldn’t believe he was about to bust. He held off as best as he could, but that pussy was warm and tight he had to release. Kittie slowed down and rocked back on Erik’s dick until she couldn’t anymore. Erik took her by the hips and gave her continuous shots until she was crying for him to stop. Kittie came hard on his dick again. Erik felt that down to his balls and he couldn’t hold it in anymore, he had to cum.

“Down on your knees! Both of y’all!”

They got down on their knees and held their titties up . The camera above them caught Erik pumping his dick until thick ropes of cum shot from his slit and onto Kittie’s face and Ashley’s eyes. He kept going, more and more showering them all over. They both looked like glazed donuts when he was finished with them.

“So much cum!” Ashley said with disbelief.

“You do taste good,” Kittie said while licking her lips with her eyes on him.

Both ladies looked into the camera and winked, the scene fading to black.

“CUT!”

Erik took a seat in one of the set chairs with a cigar in hand and a glass of whiskey sitting on a table beside him. Things were clearing out on set, but he wanted to enjoy a smoke before he headed out. He had a busy day in the morning. An interview with a new girl and two scenes to film. He still had an early gym session too.

As he took puffs of his cigar, Kittie was leaving her assigned trailer wearing this pink and white matching two-piece set with a bow in her hair and pink thigh holster with hearts.

She was carrying a large, ballerina pink Telfar bag with all her clothes from the set. She noticed Erik sitting in one of the set chairs and waved at him before making her way towards him.

“Heading out?” Erik asked.

“Yes. What’s this?”

Kittie pointed to Erik’s glass.

“Whiskey.” He replied.

Kittie picked up his glass and drank some.

“It’s aight,” she laughed at his expression, “I’m guessing Ashley already left set.”

She did after giving Erik one final throat massage.

“Yeah, she bounced. I think she said something about doing a swinger party tonight.”

Kittie sat his glass back down. She placed her hands on the arm of the set chair and looked up at Erik through her lashes.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you this, Mr. Steel, but it was an honor working with you. I can’t wait until everyone gets to see what you’ve created.”

Kittie was such a sweetheart. Erik smiled at her.

“You’re welcome, love. We should definitely connect again. You free within the next week?”

Kittie took a second to think about it.

“I am actually. You know I live in Miami. I’m flying back tonight.”

“I can take my private jet. We should film a poolside scene. You got my number, right?”

“I do. And I’m down. Is Friday a good time?”

Erik nodded his head, “That’s perfect actually. How are you getting to the airport?”

“Lyft. I still need to request one—shit, I left my phone in the trailer.”

Erik’s eyes couldn’t stop staring at Kittie’s body.

Down boy…behave…

Kittie walked away back towards the trailer and Erik was stuck on that ass moving. He wanted her again so bad. When filming, he couldn’t fully enjoy her because of the time frame. They were wrapped up on set now. The perfect opportunity to get his dick wet. Kittie entered the trailer and Erik put out his cigar. He needed that pussy one more time before she left. Unable to control himself, Erik stood up and walked towards the trailer.

Kittie was inside at her vanity unplugging her phone. She looked up through the mirror and jumped when she saw Erik.

“Erik! Shit!” Kittie put a hand to her chest, “Daddy, you scared me…”

She turned to face him and saw the look in his eyes. Erik walked up on her and Kittie gave him a look of lust when he pressed his body against hers.

“You were my favorite, you know that?” He whispered.

“Now I do,” Kittie smirked, “You want something from me?”

“Maybe I do…”

His hands on her waist, Erik picked Kittie up and sat her on the vanity. She looked at him beneath the glow of the vanity lights.

“Mr. Steel,” Kittie gasped when his hand rubbed her pussy through her shorts, “what are you doing?”

Erik brought his lips to her neck and starting sucking on it. She arched up against him, hands on his chest and moans in his ears.

He parted his lips to speak, “Can I have that pussy again, Kittie?”

She couldn’t believe her ears.

“You’re serous?”

Erik looked at her like she was crazy for asking him that.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

It was an honor. She had to know for sure.

“Yes.” She spoke with no hesitation.

Erik sat up and rushed to snatched her shorts off so rough they almost ripped. He tossed them to the floor and when he looked down at her naked lower half he chuckled knowingly.

“Of course…no panties…almost like you wanted me to catch you like this…”

Erik untied his robe and struggled it from his shoulders. It dropped to the floor at his feet. Kittie drank him in. He has such a beautiful body. And his dick was just as remarkable. He was so long and thick she couldn’t even believe all that was inside of her.

“C’mere and get some more of this dick.”

Erik picked Kittie up from the vanity, wrapped her legs around his waist, and dropped her down on his dick. She circled his neck with her arms and Erik wasted no time fucking her hard. He hooked his arms around her thighs and started laying that pipe. Erik didn’t look away from her once. She hung from his neck and Erik put his back into it, pounding her deep. His gold chain kept knocking her in the face and his short locs tickled her forehead.

“I couldn’t watch you go without another taste, baby…fuck, your—your pussy so good I wanna nut in you, I ain’t get to nut in you, baby.” He told her with a tremble in his voice from how good her pussy felt.

The way he spoke to her made her feel like the only girl in his world. He was a pro at this. Erik had a way of hypnotizing you. She couldn’t even look him in his sexy face. Whenever she did, her pussy throbbed around his dick. Those dimples deep in his cheeks whenever he bit his lip, his cognac eyes commanding her, the gold slugs in his mouth. Kittie could go on and on about this man.

“Friday? Nah, How about Monday?” He said.

Kittie’s mouth fell open in a silent scream. She pressed her face against Erik’s neck and heat crept over her body. A tingling blaze from her toes to her head. She couldn’t believe he was making her cum already. What kind of voodoo magic did he possess at the tip of his dick?

“Erikkkkkk,” Kittie’s body seizes.

He rocked her in his embrace while she rode out her climax.

“Monday it is.” He wasn’t asking, he was telling.

Erik walked Kitty towards the couch and sat down. She knew what to do. With her hands on his shoulders, she bounced on his dick. Erik loved her energy. She was ready for another round like she didn’t just cum hard back to back. Erik’s arms splayed out and he locked eyes with her. After all this fucking, he didn’t need to go to gym. She was his workout.

“There you go, that’s how you ride daddy’s dick, baby.”

“I love this dick, daddy,” Kittie gripped Erik’s throat, her fingers barely able to fit, “ohmiiiigodddddddd!”

Erik slapped her ass, “You got it, baby, you know how to take this dick.”

She could feel herself creaming all over him.

He let her have her fun, but he wanted to nut in her. Cream pie that pussy.

“Uhuh, get on this dick and act up, you ride it so good.”

She set the speed and tempo and Erik helped her by moving his hips to penetrate deeper. Kittie put one of her hands on her ass and wrapped her other arm around Erik’s neck. Erik caressed her other cheek with his palm, kissing on her neck and cleavage. With his free hand on the couch behind him to stabilize his body, he pumped his hips.

“This dick is the best dick I ever had!”

“Fuck…grip my shit like that again—”

“Yes!”

“Good girl.” Erik praised Kittie.

Hey pulled her in for another deep kiss.

“Get on your back, Kittie,” Erik popped her on the ass because she was moving too slow, “come on, girl.”

Kittie didn’t have time to catch her breath after that. He was so anxious. Kittie was on her back before she could even prepare herself and Erik folded her up. She held her legs back with her arms and he went to work fucking her into the couch. Her moans fell on deaf ears.

“You got me hooked on you…why you mess my head up like that? Huh?”

She was too busy trying to find the words to speak.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re such a good slut…You take my dick so good…I love that about you, baby girl.”

He was close. The demon in him smirked. He was going to fill her the brim with his cum. She deserved it for having such good pussy.

“Cum in my pussy, daddy?” Kittie asked with a shaky voice.

“OH SHIT—”

“Don’t pull out, daddy, fill my pussy up—”

“Here it comes—”

Erik’s dick throbbed inside of her with every release of his cum. He finally withdrew his hips carefully, and when he looked down his dick was covered in their mixture of fluids. Kittie pushed some of his cum out and it drizzled down the crack of her ass. Erik gathered it on the head of his dick and rubbed it all over her clit.

“I must be really special for you to do that,” Kittie jokes.

Erik stood up and went to retrieve his phone so that he could take a picture for memory.

“Spread it open, mhm,” Erik turned on his flash and recorded a video, “Push it out, uhuh, now rub it in…”

Kittie looked into the camera and gave Erik a pretty smile and a wink.

“Now, thank Daddy for turning you into a twinkie.”

Kittie couldn’t hold back her laugh, “Thank you, Mr. Steel, for cumming in my pussy.”

Kittie giggled when Erik slapped her hand out of the way so he could hold her pussy open.

“You are loving that,” Kittie mentioned.

Erik finally ended the video and helped Kittie off of the couch.

“Well, let me go shower again before I go,” she traced her finger down his chest, “You wanna join me?”

Erik smirked at her, “Yeah, then I can drive you to the airport.”

He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder playfully, spanking her and earning a yelp.

She was definitely going to miss her flight at this rate.

@goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @hearteyes-for-killmonger @imagining-greatness @thedonsfactory @greenhearts4bakari @kholdkill @soulfulbeauty19 @vintage-pvssy @ispywithmylileye @blaqwidow91 @queenfaithmarie @ladymac82 @fearlessem @nayaesworld @contentfiend @dxddykenn @hxneyclouds @shiania @ehniki @gigafaex @eyeknowmywrites @issimplyaamazinggg @dezi-rella @novaniskye @thethethe3210 @cydneyloo @ceeverse @cbtoosensitive @dremmmm @asweet-serendipity @twocentuar @kanilive @nccu-rnc

[unexpected-character]

Hoodies and Koala

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Warnings: none (if you think there are please tell me so I can add them)

———————————————————

You just got home from work and you feel so stressed and burned out however you still have to finish your report. You have to present last month's stocks to the board. You thought being the CEO would surely have perks and less load but you are dead wrong. You're still a slave of the 9-5 but sometimes because of all the projects you got to sign and check you have to bring work home with you. After you showered and changed, you settled in your home office to finish everything up.

A few hours since you got home, juggling of keys can be heard by the door. Due to how busy you are, you didn't even hear the penthouse door open and close and your girlfriend calling out your name checking if you were home or not.

As Natasha went in further, and found you concentrating in typing like a lunatic on your laptop. She saw how you were not enjoying any of what you are doing and wanted to help you out but first she have to shower and clean herself up first. She too had a long day. She just got off a mission that almost, almost went downhill due to a rookie agent that tripped the alarm wire. She had to double her efforts and knock all the hydra agents down before they get caught. Thankfully everything finished without any further hitch and just want to come home to you and cuddle.

She dressed herself with shorts and your favorite hoodie, now hers. It was big covering her shorts with it and comfy that she likes to just bury her nose in it as it smells like you.

She was by your office doorway trying to get your attention. She already have called your name a few times yet you haven't acknowledged her presence.

"Detka..."

"Moya lyubov..."

"Y/N!" She shouted, this caught your attention away from the screen.

"Hey, princess. You're home." You said looking at her lovingly. Admiring her outfit and how she simply looks beautiful and sexy without even trying.

"I've been trying to get your attention, lyubov but it seems like you weren't able to hear me and your eyes were glued to the screen."

"Sorry, baby. I've been just stressing out because we have tomorrow's monthly report and I had to finalize the numbers. Even crossing the t's and dotting i's of contracts for tomorrow."

You got up and stretched you've been hunched over the laptop for hours now. You walk towards your girlfriend and gave her a warm welcome home embrace. The height difference is just perfect.

"Princess, is this my hoodie?" Moving your head a bit to look at the hoodie she's wearing. She looked at you and said,

"Nope. This is mine now." snuggling back to your embrace.

"Uh huh, so when I was looking for this yesterday and you said you don't know where it is... you had it all along did you?" You said dumbfounded.

"Shhh! Cuddles. Can we go to bed now, detka?" She said almost in a sleepy tone.

She jumped up to lock her legs around you, she's lucky catching her like this is a second nature for you. For an avenger and ex-assassin, she can be very clingy and baby when she's with you. If someone walks in and find you guys like this, her attached to you like a koala, surely they'd think something was wrong.

"Sorry, princess but I have to finish my report first. How about I take you to bed, love?" You said while carrying her towards both your bedroom. She didn't reply and instead snuggled further as if you two can get any closer than this.

As you put her down on the bed, she won't let go. You tried to pry off her arms but she won't let go.

"Baaaaabe, I have to finish my report."

"Nooooo"

"Princess, come on now."

"No!" She said stubbornly.

You had no choice but to lift her up again. She yelped and you just chuckled.

"You're an ass."

"I told you to let go."

You walked back to your office and settle yourself down on your chair, her still snuggled on you.

She raised her head to look at you as if asking 'what the hell!?' and you just look and raised your eyebrow with a smirk.

She leaned in and kissed you passionately, as air was needed as you both stopped but foreheads still pressed and nose rubbing on each other.

She snuggled back, putting her face in the crook of your neck, feeling her lips on your neck. She gave you a small kiss. You kissed her shoulder.

"You're lucky that I love you, Romanoff."

"I love you too, moya lyubov."

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Flower Crowns.

masterlist || ask my anything <3

anniversary masterlist here !!

authors note - hi!! this is the last post ill be doing for my anniversary week and this is one of my most favourite little one shots ive wrote in my opinion so i hope you enjoy, it’s a little bit dark so if that’s not your cuppa then feel free to skidadle ☺️

word count - 1k

in which, harrys your body guard because your father is a mafia boss and instead of him taking a bullet for you, you end up taking a bullet for him.

warnings - mentions of guns and shooting, mafia, vulgar language and blood.

With your books hugged close to your chest and your backpack thrown over one shoulder, The campus is bustling with students, the energy vibrant and contagious. You and your best friend Rayleigh chat animatedly, caught up in the ease of your conversation.

"I can't believe Professor Thompson assigned us another case study," Rayleigh groans, rolling her eyes. "Does he think we have no other classes?"

You laugh, adjusting your grip on your books. "I know, right? As if we didn't already have enough on our plates. But I guess it's good practice."

Rayleigh nods in agreement, her expression softening. "Yeah, you're right. Still, it's going to be a long night. Coffee later?"

"Absolutely," you reply, grinning. "I wouldn't survive without our study sessions."

As you walk through the corridors, you spot Harry leaning casually against your locker. His presence is striking, a mix of calm and vigilance that makes him stand out from the crowd. He's dressed in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest.

"There's your shadow," Rayleigh teases, nudging you gently.

You chuckle, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.

Rayleigh gives you a quick hug. "See you later."

"Bye, Ray," you say, waving as she heads off.

You approach your locker, where Harry straightens up as you get closer.

"Hey," you greet him, opening your locker and starting to put your things away.

"Hey," Harry replies, his voice steady and calm. "How was class?"

"Busy, as usual," you say, glancing over at him. "Professor Thompson assigned us another case study. I'm starting to think he enjoys watching us suffer."

Harry chuckles softly. "Sounds intense. Y’handling it okay?"

"Yeah, it's all part of the deal," you shrug, organizing your books. "How about you? How's standing guard duty treating you?"

He smirks. "S’a bit different from m’usual assignments, but I don't mind. Keeps me on my toes."

You finish putting your things away and close your locker, turning to face him fully. "I appreciate it, you know. Having you around makes me feel a lot safer."

Harry's expression softens slightly. "S’the goal. M’here to make sure nothing happens to you."

You nod, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. "Thanks, H. It means a lot."

He nods in return, his gaze steady and reassuring. "Anytime. Ready to head home?"

As you walk towards your car, chatting with Harry about inconsequential things, a sense of normalcy begins to settle over you. The campus is still busy, students milling around, completely unaware of the tension that shadows your every step.

Suddenly, you notice a red dot flickering on Harry's chest. Your heart stops. Your mind races, realizing the implications—someone knows Harry is protecting you, and taking him out would make it easier for them to get to you.

Without a second thought, you push Harry out of the way. "Harry, look out!"

A gunshot rings out, splitting the air, and you feel a searing pain in your shoulder. You scream, falling to the ground in front of him.

The world spins as you hit the pavement, agony spreading through your body. Students around you scream and scatter, the chaos erupting in the once peaceful campus.

Harry is at your side in an instant, his face a mask of panic and horror.

"No, no, what have you done?" he cries, crouching down next to you. "Silly, silly girl."

A tear slips down his cheek, and your heart aches at the sight. You've never seen him cry before, not once in all the time you've known him. The anguish in his eyes is almost too much to bear.

You manage to smile weakly through the pain. "Harry... you're too pretty to cry."

"And you're too pretty to die," he replies, his voice breaking. "S’was never supposed to happen. S’my job to protect you."

He presses down on your wound, trying to stop the bleeding, his hands shaking. "Everything is going to be fine. Just hold on, help is coming."

You focus on Harry’s face, seeing the raw emotion and determination in his eyes.

"Promise me….you'll be careful," you manage to say, your voice barely audible.

"M’promise," he says fiercely, more tears falling. "But y’have to promise me you'll fight. Fight to stay with me."

You nod weakly, using every bit of strength you have left. "I'll... fight."

As the world around you blurs and fades, Harry’s face is the last thing you see, filled with raw, heartbreaking emotion. He leans closer, his voice trembling.

"I love you," he whispers, his words like a lifeline pulling you back from the brink.

Love.

You had always loved Harry, you can’t pinpoint a time when you first felt it, perhaps it was when you first met him, or when your lips first connected to his, but it was a feeling you had always felt and always would feel.

"I... love you too," you whisper back, your voice barely more than a breath. The pain is overwhelming, and you can feel yourself slipping away.

"Tell my father..." you start, struggling to get the words out. "Tell him I want a flower crown... when I'm buried."

Flower crowns had always been your thing, your mother had taught you how to make them when you were little and your father always had one in his office, as a reminder of both you at her.

His girls.

They were a symbol of your family.

Like a family crest.

Harry shakes his head fiercely, more tears spilling down his cheeks. "You're not going to get buried because you and I are going to get married and live forever. We'll have babies and grow old together."

You manage a faint smile at his words, the thought of a future with him a beautiful distraction from the pain. "Harry..."

"Stay with me," he pleads, his voice raw with emotion. "Keep your eyes open. Don't you dare close them."

[ticklishraspberries]

Secrets & Sensitivity (Eddie/Steve)

Summary: Steve tries to keep being ticklish a secret, but Eddie is very persistent. (For Week 3 of @august-anon's weekly Tickletober prompts!! Thank you to everyone who voted for the ship for this day, and I hope you all enjoy reading!!)

Steve Harrington is good at keeping secrets.

Well, he’s legally obligated to keep a lot of shit secret, lest the government come after him. Living in Hawkins, Indiana apparently comes with some non-disclosure agreements, as he’s learned the hard way. Those secrets are kept more for survival rather than out of the goodness of his heart, but still, it counts. He’s kept secrets for friends, too. He didn’t tell anyone about Dustin’s initial crush on Max, or about Robin.

And he’s good at keeping his own secrets. Even when they’re small and silly, like the fact that he uses Farrah Fawcett hairspray, or the fact that he still doesn’t know how he passed algebra in high school. He doesn’t go blabbing for advice about all his little problems, even when he probably should. He knows that Robin will understand if he confides in her about the fact that he might possibly like boys as well as girls, but he isn’t ready to talk about it with anyone.

He was raised to keep everything inside, his feelings and secrets. He wasn’t allowed to complain or cry as a child, and he carried that mentality throughout his life.

So, he’s not good at opening up. Even when it’s about silly things.

“I’m not ticklish,” he insists, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

When Eddie tries to test it, Steve just turns the tables and makes him pinky swear to keep his hands to himself, otherwise he’ll never stop. Eddie gives up pretty quickly, and the subject is dropped.

They’re just friends when that happens, but now, they’re dating, and things are different. They touch more, and they’re more honest. Steve’s working on the whole openness thing, and has been slowly but surely revealing the little bits of himself, like embarrassing childhood stories and the nightmares that leave him gasping for air in the night.

It’s late one evening, and they’re curled up in Eddie’s bed, the trailer empty while Wayne’s on the night shift, and his fingers are lazily playing connect-the-dots with the freckles and moles on Steve’s back. Those gentle fingers get closer to his side, and Steve can’t help but squirm.

“I thought you said you weren't ticklish,” Eddie teases.

“I…” Steve hesitates. “I…might have lied?”

Eddie moves faster than lightning, and Steve doesn’t even have a chance to fight back before his sides are being squeezed, and he’s holding his breath, trying not to give his boyfriend the satisfaction of laughter, at least not yet.

In an attempt to preserve his dignity, Steve makes a split-second decision to retaliate, clumsily grasping for Eddie’s torso and landing a squeeze at his hip, making him shriek.

He’s known about Eddie’s ticklishness for a bit longer, has only tried to exploit it once or twice for fear of revenge, but now, his interest is piqued. He chases that sound, the strength coming back into his arms as he fends off tickling fingers, switching their positions so that Steve is on top of him.

Eddie’s not weak by any means, but he’s no match for Steve at this moment, and those big brown eyes only get wider as he realizes his predicament.

“Are you ticklish, Eddie?” Steve asks, grinning.

“You know the answer to that, dick,” Eddie replies, squirming wildly beneath him.

For his sass, Steve wastes no time and shows no mercy as he begins to explore Eddie’s ticklish spots, from underneath his chin to the waistband of his jeans, and the howling, hysterical laughter that pours out is so adorable, Steve never wants it to end.

However, Eddie’s going to need to breathe sometime, so he’s careful to not go too far, periodically slowing or stopping his touch to let him gasp for air, to let him mumble swear words between residual giggles, to let him try and fight back, even though he fails.

Quickly, Steve begins to realize that Eddie hasn’t once begged for him to stop, or made much of a genuine effort for escape. His cheeks are flushed, his chest is heaving, and his reactions are far from fake, and yet, he seems…To be having fun?

Steve can’t help the fond smile that comes over his face as he comes to the conclusion that Eddie likes this, that he’s having fun. It’s so fucking cute, it’s so Eddie that it just melts his heart.

He leans down to press a kiss to his jaw, and even though he doesn’t really mean for it to tickle, Eddie starts giggling anyway.

This is just one more secret that Steve Harrington will be happy to keep.

[tomionefinds]

Fluff/Soft Fics

Things are hard. Here are some softer Tom, some humorous, and some fluffy fics to cuddle with. Graphic by Mod April - TF Team

Just Another Girl Alone at the Bar by Spork_in_the_Road

M | Complete | 8k

“Oh Ron-Ron, you’re too funny,” a feminine voice says, giggling. Hermione thinks she might vomit. In which Hermione pretends Tom is her boyfriend until he actually is.

Hot Lips by nauticalparamour

E | One-shot | 3k

When Tom Riddle finds out that Hermione Granger has a phone sex line, his first inclination is to use it to blackmail her. But, once he gets her talking, he doesn't want it to end.

Forever Means Forever by cocoartist

T | Complete | 7k

If she ever saw Unspeakable Number 37 again she would kill him with her bare hands: Hermione's research into the Veil has an unexpected side-effect. COMPLETE.

A Naughty Niffler by bunnystealsyourcarrots

E | One-shot | 2k

Hermione finds herself sucked into an unknown world with an old familiar face

Youth in Retrospect by provocative_envy

E | One shot | 8k

She’s buying a box of condoms when she meets him. “Those are shit, you know,” he says, jerking his chin at the pale purple box in her hand. “Can’t feel anything.” She stares at him for a moment too long. The bell above the door jingles merrily as a rowdy group of schoolboys enters the store. “Excuse you,” she replies, cheeks turning pink.

Nerve Damage by januarywren

T | Complete | 6k

“Working late again?” Hermione asked, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, her raised eyebrow daring him to make a smart remark. That look had sent more than one ex fuming—but not him. Never him. Tom glanced up from his paperwork, his usual mask of indifference giving way to a slow, lazy smile. “Someone has to keep things running smoothly around here. I thought you’d be fast asleep by now, Miss Granger.” She let her gaze wander over the surprising disarray of his desk, piled high with case files and pages dotted with notes in his precise handwriting. She'd teased him more than once about his borderline obsessive need for order, how every pen, every scrap of paper, had its place. But she didn't mention it now or comment on the faint stain on his collar. Losing a patient did things to a person—things no textbook or professor could ever prepare them for. House M.D. Inspired AU | There’s a sickness between Hermione and Tom that neither has any desire to cure. (It isn't love. It isn't. 🖤)

communication errors by esotyric (devilrie)

T | Complete | 7k

sender: tmriddle@walpurgis.net recipient: hermionegranger@gryffinsdor.org subject: Today’s Meeting Granger – Attached is the dry-cleaning bill for the shirt you ruined when you threw your tea at it. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I happened to be wearing the shirt at the time. You are lucky it was cold. Pay the bill and I won’t sue you for assault. Regards, Thomas Marvolo Riddle CEO of Walpurgis Corporate sender: hermionegranger@gryffinsdor.org recipient: tmriddle@walpurgis.net subject: re: Today’s Meeting Riddle – I did notice, because unlike you, I can identify when something is being inhabited, you forest-destroying monster. You do not require a dry cleaner to get herbal tea out of a shirt. The shirt was black, the tea was camomile, and you have no grounds on which to stand nor sue. Your company, however, WILL be exposed for the havoc it is wreaking upon our natural world. Sincerely, Hermione Jean Granger CEO of Not being a Twat

Domestic Bliss by airgloweffect

M | one shot | 693

A snapshot into the life of Tom and Hermione Riddle.AU

Avada Kedavra Anonymous by Speechwriter

K+ | Complete | 8k

No one missed Riddle's pale fist tightening around the useless wand in his lap. "I am Tom," he ground out. "I am here for the sole reason that the alternative was community service." / Hermione moderates a post-Avada Kedavra support group. Chaos ensues.

A Nose that Can See by Colubrina

Hermione Granger has found herself inexplicably tossed back into time to Tom Riddle's Hogwarts. And he's a Veela and, wouldn't you know it, she's his mate. Could life get worse? But he seems to have an endless supply of out-of-season fruit so it can't be all bad, right? Tomione. Major character death, musical theater, and all that fruit. COMPLETE. Hermione Granger has found herself inexplicably tossed back into time to Tom Riddle's Hogwarts. And he's a Veela and, wouldn't you know it, she's his mate. Could life get worse? But he seems to have an endless supply of out-of-season fruit so it can't be all bad, right? Tomione. Major character death, musical theater, and all that fruit. COMPLETE.

Tommy Played Guitar by PacificRimbaud

E | One shot |3k

Tom Riddle takes his coffee black and plays in a rock and roll band.

Playing Cupid by Meowmers

M | Complete | 14k

"I'm beginning to think that I would love to hear you scream." Tomione. Regency AU. Rated-M.

A Four Letter Word by elizabethriddle

E | One shot | 4k

Tom Riddle was not impulsive. He was a planner. He never did anything without carefully considering all possible outcomes and controlling all of the variables. And he never let emotions impact his decisions. He had planned, meticulously, for the post as DADA Professor. How did it all go so wrong?

Sailor Trouble by The-Empress-of-Snark (uleanblue)

Not Rated | Complete | 9k

Hermione Granger attempts to restore the Founder's Relics, with unexpected results.

you did some bad things, but i'm the worst of them by coffeepolariod

E | Complete | 22k

“You want to watch your back, Miss Granger,” Dolohov gestured to Tom with his head. “This man won’t go easy on you, won’t entertain your parlour tricks, and most definitely will not hold back as he tears your confidence down: brick by brick.” or: Hermione Granger needs to win this poker game but Tom Riddle is there at every turn.

Tempora Abducto by Flaignhan (almost anything by this author)

T | Complete | 53k

Inconveniently it's the things that need fixing the most which are often irreparable.

[joedirtymadre]

Cream Puff

MASH X READER! FLUFF! (Please send more requests!)

You were currently studying in the library with Lemon, trying to prepare for the upcoming potions test. “Let’s take a short break…” Lemon sighed as she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah… I think I’m starting to get cross eyed… I’ve been reading the same page 4 times already…” you groaned. 

“By the way (Y/N), how come Mash isn’t here studying with you?” Lemon asked. “As soon as I mentioned that we have a test next week he started short circuiting. “That’s when Lance, Dot, and Finn dragged him off. They said they would help him study,” you shrugged. “I see, well they’ve helped Mash so many times on past tests and quizzes that I bet they’re experts on dealing with him,” Lemon said. 

“Seriously… I love Mash, but when he starts short circuiting I can’t help but panic…” you sighed. “Really? Well don’t you think it’s sort of cute when he does that?” Lemon nudges you. “In a way,” you smiled. “Well, what other expressions does he make that you think are adorable?” She asked. “Hmmm… I love it when he realizes I have an extra cream puff on me,” you laughed. “Aww,” she cooed. “Also, when he tries to tell us a lame joke,” you added. “Well, what about expressions that you don’t like?” Lemon changed the question. 

“Don’t like?” you asked as you sat back and thought. “I never really thought about that, I’ve never disliked anything he’s done… Other than that time he stuffed a creampuff in my pocket and I sat on it without knowing it was even there…” you explained. “I guess… but I meant more like whenever he’s been too clingy or jealous,” Lemon said. “Clingy? Jealous? Mash is neither,” you replied. 

“Oh come on, there has to have been one time where he got jealous and began to act clingy or something,” Lemon said. “No he’s never done that before… I don’t even think he knows what jealousy is,” you pointed out. “Well… what if we irk him a little, see if he’s not a robot,” Lemon giggled. “I don’t know… Mash jealous? I can’t even imagine it,” you said. “Well it won’t hurt to see,” Lemon smiled slyly. “I don’t know Lemon, it doesn’t seem smart to trigger someone’s jealousy,” you pointed out. “It’s not like you’re gonna cheat on him! Come on, I already have a plan!” She said as she dragged you out of the library.

The Next Day

You and Mash patiently waited for the rest of your friends to arrive. “Today there’s a new limited edition cream puff available, I’m so excited,” Mash drooled slightly. “I know, I heard it might be either matcha or pumpkin. It sounds so delicious!” You smiled softly. “By the way… why are you so dressed up today?” He asked as he pointed to your outfit. You were currently wearing a green sundress… or more like Lemon forced it onto you. “W-Why you don’t like it?” You asked nervously. “No, it’s nice, but you don’t normally wear dresses like that. So I was wondering…” he said softly. “Ah, well I’m glad you think it’s nice,” you smiled as you reached out to grab his hand. 

“Hey!” You heard someone call out and turned to see Lance and Dot. “Hi!” You waved back. “Sorry we’re late, this guy couldn’t pick which sister shirt to wear…” Dot groaned. “I have to pick the perfect one, or else I’m doing my sweet sister injustice,” Lance glared. “Well I’m glad you guys made it,�� you smiled. “Oh by the way, here you go (Y/N). We brought you a flower,” Dot said as your friends handed you a rose each. “T-Thanks? That’s really sweet of you,” you said confused by your friends’ gifts.

“We were also told to say you lo-” Dot smacked Lance’s head, stopping him mid sentence. “What he was going to say was how nice you look today! I think so too! That color looks great!” Dot said quickly. “Thanks,” you said, finally understanding what was going on… You glanced a look towards Dot and he quickly returned a knowing glance back. Lemon’s behind this…

You then turned to Mash, wondering what his reaction to this was. You frowned when you noticed a blank stare. “Thinking about the new cream puff Mash?” You sweat dropped. “Oh wow, did you just read my mind (Y/N)?” He asked. “Sure…” you trailed off.

“Hey! (Y/N)! Everyone!” You heard someone call out. You turned to see Lemon and Finn, “Hey guys,” you smiled. Finn approached you and handed you a small bag. “H-Here (Y/N), these are for you. Also, you look n-nice,” Finn stuttered. “Thanks Finn,” you said with a sympathetic smile. “Oh wow (Y/N)! The guys all brought you gifts! That’s so sweet of them!” Lemon said rather loudly. Everyone turned to see Mash who was silently watching.

“Wow, you guys are so nice. Now can we go get the new cream puffs before they’re sold out?” Mash asked. Everyone sweat dropped at the unfazed Mash. “Y-Yeah, let’s go,” you said, feeling slightly disappointed by your boyfriend’s lack of reaction. “Yippee,” he said and raced towards the stand. “Well that was a waste of time…” Lance said as we began following Mash. “Lance, shush!” Lemon scolded him. “It was sort of a let down… I was sort of hoping he’d punch a hole in the ground to tell us to back off (Y/N). I mean, that’s what I would do,” Dot added. “You can barely punch through a piece of paper, how would you punch a hole into the ground?” Lance asked. “What was that?” Dot asked as the two began bickering.

“You ok (Y/N)?” Finn asked. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I be glad my boyfriend doesn’t get jealous, just means he knows we’re solid,” you said trying to reassure everyone. “Yeah…” Finn replied. 

You arrived at the stand. Seeing Mash eating his cream puffs. “How are they?” you asked. “Good, want a bite?” he asked. You nodded and took a small bite, “Hey I was right it’s pumpkin!” you smiled. “Yep, but sadly I could only buy 5… The owner said that’s the limit because they’re so popular,” he moped. I guess cream puffs are worth more of a reaction than me… “I’ll go buy some, and we can share them,” you said. “Really? Thanks (Y/N), you’re the best,” he said. 

You purchased the cream puffs and handed 2 to Mash, “Thanks,” he said as he began munching on one. While snacking and chatting you felt something pull on your skirt. You looked down to notice a little boy, “Hi there!” you smiled as you knelt down. “Miss, can I have one?” He whispered. “Huh? Oh, a cream puff?” You asked. “Mhmm! It just smells so yummy, but I didn’t bring any money today… Just one please?” He asked. “Oh umm… sure!” You smiled as you reached into your bag and pulled out the last one. 

As you were about to place the cream puff into the little boy’s hand, you noticed it disappear from your hand. “U-Uhh?” You questioned as you looked around, thinking it fell. You then look up to see Mash towering over you while eating a cream puff. “M-Mash? Did you just…” you trailed off. “One sec,” he said as he zoomed away. You turned back and watched as Mash snatched the cream puff Dot was about to eat and raced back to place it in the boy’s hands. “Take this one,” he said. “Hey!” Dot yelled

“Ignore him, here take it,” Mash said as he gave the little boy a cream puff. “Wow! Thanks miss, thanks mister!” The boy said as he ran off. You turned to Mash who continued munching on your cream puff. “Mash?” you asked. “Hm?” He replied. “What was that all about?” You asked. “What do you mean? He still got a cream puff…” he trailed off. “Ok, but why didn’t you give him that one?” You asked, confused. “Because… I can only have your cream puffs… I didn’t like that you were going to give him one of yours…” he said softly. “So never give anyone a cream puff except me,” he said as he finished the last cream puff. 

You smiled and leaned closer to him, using your thumb to wipe off any crumbs. “And you can only do this with me too,” he said softly, avoiding your eyes. “Alright, I promise,” you smiled before you gave him a peck on the cheek. “And that… especially that,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, only you,” you laughed.

[meimi-haneoka]

Clear Card Trivia 4 ~ The most ancient Magicians of Europe, the Magic Association and their role in Clear Card

Welcome back to my corner focused on eviscerating all the thematics, hidden messages, trivia, aspects of Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card!!

We're at the 4th "episode" of this series (you can find the previous ones under the #clear card trivia hashtag) and this time around the tone of the thematic will change a little bit. We get into a darker corner. Yes, because when it was time to decide for the next thematic I would delve into, I felt it was finally time to address everything concerning The Magic Association and Akiho's clan, the so-called Most Ancient Magicians of Europe.

I've been feeling the need to delve into these two "entities" appearing in Clear Card for long time and for several reasons. One of those is that there are still so many people out there who tend to conflate the two and confuse "who did what". It's time we dot the i's and cross the t's on who's who. And rest assured I made sure to mention every single thing we know (and don't know) about them. For this reason, the post is a bit long, but I wanted to make it as comprehensive as possible.

Moreover, these two groups of people hide a very deep and important role inside Clear Card's story. Despite representing the darkest, most horrible part of this arc (I'd daresay if we have to find a villain in CCS at all costs, we have quite found them), I can see and appreciate a lot the social commentary CLAMP made through them.

If you're curious to know what this social commentary is and read in one place everything we know about these magicians, just follow me under the cut!

The Magic Association of England

Let's start with them. The first mention we have of the "Magic Association of England" (in Japanese イギリスの魔法協会 or they've been called 魔術師協会 - Magicians association - too ) is in volume 4, chapter 15, when Eriol over the phone reveals their existence to Syaoran, and even correctly speculates that Yuna D. Kaito might be one of their members.

Basically, the Magic Association of England is a congregation of powerful magicians (not necessarily related by blood) who associate together for their mutual personal benefit. Their headquarters are, of course, in England.

They are recognizable in the story by their long black robe with purple lining and a headpiece that covers their heads and faces entirely, shaped vaguely like the head of a dragon.

It seems like they are organized according to a hierarchy, for two reasons: some of them wear an additional layer of clothing on their shoulders, as a way to indicate a "higher rank" of magicians (they're probably the oldest ones, or the ones who run the entire thing), but they also assign "titles" to their magicians basing on their level of magic - Kaito is basically the strongest (while not being part of the higher hierarchy, because he doesn't wear the additional piece of clothing) and he's been assigned the title of "D". That's what the "D" in his (fake) name means, nothing else. We can assume there are magicians of rank C, B and A too, in this Association. They even seem to have a collective magic circle, as we can see in more than one scene, but more clearly in chapter 79:

As Eriol implies very early in chapter 15 (and as we will have plenty of opportunities to see with our own eyes), their activities are shady at best and criminal at worst (that's why Eriol replies to an unaware Syaoran "Your clan probably hasn't mentioned them to you yet, because of the plenty bad rumors about them").

It also seems like they constantly try to recruit new members and actively look for powerful magicians to add to their ranks. Like they did with little Kaito, reaching him at the unknown location he was living in (beware, this is often a point of confusion but the men with the caucasian-like headpieces we see in the flashback are not part of the Magic Association. It is just a "circle of people" where little Kaito lived for a period after being separated by his parents.)

Not only that, but in order to achieve their main goal, they also seem to form "alliances" with other influential parties. This is apparently done for the common goal of broadening the Association, their authority and influence in the magic world, as stated by little Kaito himself in volume 13, chapter 60. Although, little Kaito also says that they won't think twice in betraying those alliances as they see fit, and it seems to be customary because the boy says that it's guaranteed to happen.

And "alliance" is the type of relationship that connects them to the next subjects of this post.

The Most Ancient Magicians of Europe

The "Most Ancient Magicians of Europe" (in Japanese 欧州最古の魔術師達) get introduced for the first time in volume 6, chapter 25. Yet, the very first mention of a "clan" Akiho belonged to appears as early as volume 5, chapter 21, when Akiho explains to Kaito she recognized the robe passed down in her clan in the vision she had unwittingly shared with Sakura.

Their ceremonial outfit is composed by a white robe with a light blue cloak hemmed in yellow, just like the removable headpiece covering entirely one's face when pulled up. They also have a collective magic circle identifying the magicians part of the Clan:

As opposed to the Magic Association, this clan is a big family of magicians, all related by blood. They do not seem to have a common last name they go by, like the Li Clan does for example. This gives an inkling about their very broad reach. Although the ones closest to Akiho seem to have their headquarters in England just like the Association, the name suggests that their scope and/or presence might be spanning all over Europe. The family is so big that Lilie basically married one of her distant relatives, part of the same clan.

In this regard, I have to make a very important clarification about a translation mistake in the ENG localization that affects concretely the plot. This mistake made it to the printed volumes.

As you can see here, the ENG translation basically makes a Clan member state that they have the same blood as Clow Reed. We all know that Clow Reed was born from an English father and a Chinese mother and since in this scene the Clan is talking about their rivalry with the Li clan, it is almost automatic to assume that they are the Reed Family.

This is a very egregious translation mistake, as the correct translation is the version that the scanlation group RhapsodyInBlue uploaded back in the day:

A "They are of Clow Reed lineage" (as the Li's indeed are) turned into "For the blood of Clow Reed", giving birth to quite a big misunderstanding.

This clan has never been officially confirmed to have any blood ties with Clow Reed.

Any indication in that sense is pure speculation and fan theories. I know "it's the official English translation that says so!" but unfortunately this is not the first and definitely not even the last translation mistake that affects severely the understanding of the plot.

The only thing we know for certain about the Most Ancient Magicians in Europe (I'll call them "Squid Clan" going forward, cause this is a common nickname I've been using forever in fandom) is that they hold a grudge against Clow for unknown reasons (they wouldn't be the first ones) and consequently they are constantly competing with the Li Clan (blood relatives of Clow) for who is more powerful and influential between their Clans. Although we don't know if it's mutual, this rivalry is nothing recent, as it was already there when Akiho and Syaoran were born, and it's certainly part of the cause that pushed the Squid Clan to turn Akiho into an artifact (to compete with Syaoran of the Li Clan). Syaoran is very well aware of who they are, as he's the one recognizing the robe in Sakura's dream in volume 10, chapter 46.

Another thing that I wish to point out is that, although fandom spaces sometimes call this Clan as "Shinomoto Clan" or even arbitrarily call Lilie as "Lilie Shinomoto", none of this has been hinted at or even confirmed in canon. In fact, the sticker with a phrase from Lilie that is being given out at the CLAMP Exhibition held in this period in Tokyo, indicates her name as just "Lilie", not "Lilie Shinomoto", while all the other characters are fully featured with their first and last name. As it's been revealed in chapter 80, Akiho uses an alias in everyday's life, following a common practice in magic clans. So it's very likely that the entire name "Akiho Shinomoto" is an alias and "Shinomoto" got nothing to do with the Clan Akiho was born in at all.

When they were still alive, Akiho's mother and father were the most powerful magicians in that Clan, with dreamseer Lilie being the top magician. And as we can hear from her own words, the Squid Clan's collective goal is to put their hands on the magic of the entire world and on any means to operate it. That is particularly evident in the purpose for which they have turned Akiho into an artifact. It is also what seemingly steers their interest when it comes to marrying off their members: feelings and happiness of the parties concerned are of no importance, all that matters is how profitable that union will be for the Clan in terms of power. That's why they were thrilled to know Lilie and her husband decided to marry, but then considered it a failure and said they should've never let them meet when they lost their life in an accident and all they left to the Clan was a magicless little Akiho.

Kaito and the Magic Association

Next, let's review how both of these groups affected the other characters.

The Magic Association approached little Kaito in the community he was living in (unknown location) when he was very little, asking him "to help them out". They had certainly sensed his astounding powers for someone so young and saw an opportunity to make their Association grow. Little Kaito didn't particularly want to help them out (or do something for someone else, for that matter), but due to his already problematic growth process and emerging child depression (from what we can see in the flashback, he was seemingly feared and kept at arm's length by the people of that community, so he was already growing up in solitude - I wouldn't exclude they were the ones calling the Association to have him taken away), he didn't even feel strongly against the idea, so he just decided to accept.

What followed were years where Kaito kept growing up in solitude despite being surrounded by so many adults, fending for himself, feeding on anything that was edible enough (Lilie will find him eating a Calorie Mate for lunch), without a shred of love, care or emotional education, simply used as a tool and exploited for his strong magic powers. The boy had the opportunity to train and develop his powers even further, quickly becoming unrivalled in magic battles.

Along the story, Eriol (in a short chapter) came into possession of secret documents about Kaito's life in the Association (the sheets bring the Association mark) and he said that they included his "spectacular war records". What exactly he meant with that term isn't clear, but it's legit to assume that the Association might had young Kaito fight against other magicians (we don't know the extent of the violence of those fights).

Kaito's impressive performances in magic earned him the title of "D" in the Magic Association, the highest title that can be bestowed on a magician in their environment, and he was allowed to attend the Association's meetings with the higher members of the council. During a "character exposition" moment, Eriol reveals that the request that the Association made to Kaito the most was to use time magic for their benefit. This, well knowing the effects that time magic has on the caster. They had a young boy performing that dangerous magic, shaving off his own life span, while they continued undisturbed and unaffected.

Note that in all the flashbacks we saw of Kaito in the Association, we never saw him taking initiatives in their activities, but just merely following passively the orders he received. From his bored behavior we can see in volume 7 chapter 31, he wasn't particularly keen in attending their meetings either. Even the abomination the Association did on Akiho, he never took any part in it, he was merely informed at "fait accompli" (this might be harder to get for how they translated this in the ENG version, but in the flashback in Japanese the Association talks in past tense, as something that had already happened).

From all the hints and scenes we can see of young Kaito in the Association, up to the conversation he had with Lilie and the multiple warnings he gave her about their intentions, my idea is that Kaito wasn't aligning with their wicked morals and felt uncomfortable among them, that's why he strived to be left alone as much as possible, but as they were the only adults he could cling to, and with an already crippled self-esteem, he didn't even have enough willpower to leave that place forever.

Until Akiho came into the picture.

When both Kaito and Akiho were two little children, the Squid Clan requested to the Association to have their most powerful magician "checking up" on little Akiho at a distance for any trace of magic power in her body.

This is the incident that basically started everything: Kaito said with honesty that the girl had no powers, "just like a blank book", with the hope that her Clan would kick her out and let her live a normal life. Sadly, some years later, that same comment had been taken literally by Akiho's blood relatives and gave birth to a very sick plan for Akiho's purpose in the Clan.

Despite seeking his assistance due to his massive magic powers, the Association was at the same time very wary of Kaito. His unbothered and disinterested behavior might also be the reason why the Association and the Squid Clan didn't trust him and decided to engrave the "Seal of D" on him when he offered himself to escort Akiho in her travels around the world, unknowingly seeking for magic to write on her body (I'll talk about this whole matter in the next paragraph).

The "Seal of D" is a magic of "confinement" that works only on magicians with a title of "D". It's easy to imagine why this thing exists in the first place: magicians with such enormous magic powers are convenient but also pose a threat to the authority of the Association, especially considering how there's no sense of comradery and loyalty in this group of people, and they're ready to betray anyone at any moment. The "Seal of D" works as some kind of "trap" that is triggered by the undesired behavior of the magician (in this case, they had programmed it as "should the magician tamper with the magic artifact in any way, activate the Seal of D on him"). Young Kaito had no qualms about accepting to let them engrave it on himself, because at that point he already had a rampant self-loathing and probably the guilt of what he realized he had contributed to cause was already wrecking his mental state. They even had the nerve to ask him "Do you understand what it entails?", as if shaking the responsibility off themselves. Of course he didn't know. He didn't have a complete idea of what he would have to sacrifice, at that time.

Following Kaito's refusal to return Akiho to their abusers (roughly around 1 year prior the events of Clear Card), they excommunicated him officially from the Magic Association and started persecuting both of them. In volume 7, chapter 33, we saw one of those attempts at attacking them to take Akiho back, promptly repelled by Kaito in secret to not let Akiho notice anything. It is easy to guess there had been other attempts in the past. This is also very likely the reason why for Kaito it was absolutely vital to live in Eriol's ex-mansion once they arrived in Japan, as the house was naturally a perfect place to store and protect magic artifacts.

When Kaito exchanged the artifact implanted in Akiho's body with his own pocket watch, the Seal of D and everything that happened afterwards was triggered automatically, sealing Kaito away in a hidden dimension where time was destroyed, stripping him of his humanity and caging him in the form of a dragon, unable to talk, to move or use his magic. Any attempt to free him would trigger an endless stream of magic attacks, like Sakura and Syaoran had the displeasure to realize later.

One peculiar thing that I'd like to remark and that contributes to emphasize even more how despicable those magicians were, is that when Eriol started investigating to understand who Yuna D. Kaito was, with the help of the Li Clan he found out that the "official version" of why Kaito was excommunicated from the Association was that he had "lost" an important taboo artifact that shouldn't have been removed from its premises for no reason. Furthermore, rumors over rumors said he didn't "lose it", he actually ran away with it. All of this is of course a lie spread to make Kaito look like a delinquent who stole the magic artifact (Akiho), when in fact they were the ones willingly sending Akiho away. It is very likely they were the ones spreading this misinformation to both make Kaito look like a criminal but also to not lose face in front of the magic world.

Kaito's permanence in the Magic Association worsened exponentially an already precarious situation with his growth, exacerbating his low self-esteem, denying him a childhood where he could know the warmth and comfort of love, exploiting his magic powers at his own expense, while not meeting any resistance from him, reacting to this abuse with a concerning "apathy" as some sort of self-defense mechanism, for something he could not comprehend entirely yet, and so he could not effectively consent to it. It is a kind of "silent abuse", where they didn't use violence on him (at least not for what it was shown and not till he was still living with them), but still wrecked him on the inside in ways that are not visible to the eye, and it will probably take years and years to heal. Akiho alludes to those scars in volume 6, chapter 29, when she confides to Sakura her fear that Kaito might be suffering in silence from scars "invisible to the eye".

Because of this, his relationship with other people and the way he goes about pretty much anything might appear particularly troublesome and hard to understand. He definitely doesn't react to things as someone with a healthy upbringing. His abuse and exploitation has been explicitly mentioned by Mokona sensei in a Twitter Space, so even if it's pretty evident once you carefully read the chapters of his backstory, it's confirmed even on the author side.

Akiho and the Most Ancient Magicians of Europe

Cosmos, whom we've known as "Akiho Shinomoto" in the story, was born into the clan of the Most Ancient Magicians of Europe as a result of the love and union between Lilie and her husband, both part of the same clan and respectively first and second strongest magicians in that family. It is immediately horrifying the realization, along the story, that Akiho's abusers are people of her own family, tied to her by blood.

But let's proceed in order.

As soon as the accident that killed Lilie and her husband happened, the Clan took care of their only surviving daughter.

Ever since the first panels of Akiho's backstory, the Clan members are shown having great expectations about what kind of magic she would develop, as everyone else in that family had done till that moment. When they heard about Lilie and her beloved's engagement, they were already fantasizing about what incredible powers their offspring would have. That's all they ever cared about. At the "ripe old age" of about 1-2 years, the baby girl was expected to show some signs of magic as soon as she started walking, but she had none. It is roughly in this period that they had Yuna D. Kaito, from the Magic Association, evaluate her at a distance. Even though the boy declared she had no trace of powers, they seemingly decided to wait and see.

But by the time the girl turned 6/7, when she was old enough to read books, still no fragment of magic appeared in her. That was, for the clan, something unacceptable. And the beginning of Akiho's tribulations.

It was in this moment that they started to compare her to Syaoran, of the Li Clan in Hong Kong, and the concern with her non-existent powers began to look more and more like an obsession. They actually started seeing her as a stain on their Clan's pride. Suddenly, the focus was all on how they could surpass the other rival Clan, and Akiho was isolated, left in the grip of loneliness. A magicless member of the family was a member who didn't even deserve being talked to. An interrogatory, at most. They didn't really care if the little girl wanted to socialize, if she wanted to play, if she was the only young person in that Clan, missing her parents who died so early on. All the questions Akiho stubbornly made them about her parents were sistematically ignored, save for one little detail that she was able to snatch from them, probably out of exhaustion: that both her parents loved mint chocolate. It was an apparently insignificant detail, which for Akiho became everything she knew about her parents, and the only "proof" she had of her connection to them. She was also denied any picture of mom and dad, probably considering her unworthy of them.

In the short story n. 2, Akiho tells Kaito that her Clan denied her even plushies. Even if she asked for some, they would tell her "if you've got time to play, then you've got time to read". In this sense, it is a miracle that Momo managed to stay, via the guise of a plushie, by Akiho's side throughout her childhood.

The girl grew up, and the situation stayed the same, or rather, it worsened. The members of the Clan became more and more cruel, calling her “worthless”, “useless” right to her face, in one scene they even doubted she could really be the daughter of her powerful parents. They kept making all kinds of attempts and experiments to see if she would develop any powers. As Akiho herself told Kaito in volume 13, chapter 60, she remembered how they'd repeat countless times how unfortunate it was that Lilie, a dreamseer, wasn't able to foresee her own demise, and that if all they would leave behind was such a worthless, magicless child, then they should've never let the magician and her husband meet. Basically, declaring in front of Akiho that it would have been better if she had never been born at all.

This was the moment where they completely went out of their mind and remembered Kaito's comment on her: if she was "like a blank book", they would make sure to turn her into one.

With the collaboration of the Magic Association, they executed a magic ritual to turn a human being into a magic artifact, engraving a magic tool inside Akiho's body (the infamous book that we will see in its entirety in volume 16, chapter 79. Note, this is DIFFERENT from the white Book of Time guarded by Momo that Akiho carries with her everywhere). We never saw entirely the scene of the crime, but the few flashbacks CLAMP depicted are horrifying enough: Akiho floated over an altar, seemingly tied to it by a chain made of pearls around her ankle. She was completely surrounded by members of the Clan and the Association, and we could even spot both the Clan's and Association's magic circles hovering over and under her. In a particular scene, we saw Sakura in Akiho's place, and she seemed to be suffering. Probably what Akiho herself went through during the real thing. After the successful completion of the procedure, it seems the magicians burned the book they took this taboo ritual from, as a way to have the exclusitivity of the artifact for themselves.

The ritual didn't come without a price though, even for those who executed it. The magicians discussed the toll that such a taboo ritual would take on them, but since their greed was stronger than anything else, they still considered it worth the loss. When the Association's higher members informed Kaito of the successful experiment (and bragged about how magnificent it was), they also mentioned the price they had to pay: several members of both the Clan and the Association lost some magic spells and rituals forever.

It is to be noted that Akiho doesn't seem to have any recollection of this ritual and what happened during it, nor she's ever aware that she carries a magic artifact in herself, so it's pretty much legit to assume they've put her to sleep throughout it. Or....the trauma caused her some memory loss.

Either way, from that moment onwards, Akiho was just considered "an artifact" created and owned by both the Clan and the Magic Association, for their own consumption. The plan was to make little Akiho travel the world to hoard all the magic she could absorb from several grimoires, as that was less risky (in their sick mind) than bringing all the grimoires to her. And in chapter 80, we saw the amount of grimoires that Akiho had unwittingly engraved on herself along the years.

As if this wasn’t horrifying enough, the spell hoarding all the grimoires progressively tried to crush her soul and conscience, until it would get destroyed completely. So when the artifact would've reached its limit, it would've been the death of Akiho as a human being. Only a shell of her would remain. And judging by what was said by Kaito in volume 8, chapter 35, they actually hoped for her to lose her consciousness completely, so they could make use of her more easily.

As we all know, that's when Kaito decided to step up and change the course of his and Akiho's lives forever, offering himself to accompany her in the travel they planned for her.

Just like in Kaito's case, rehashing Akiho’s past in the Clan is important to understand her personality and behavior fully. CLAMP, in the Clear Card manga, have portrayed the story of her past in a very peculiar way: it starts as any other fairytale, with light tones and cute designs. But as the story progresses, and the horror ensues, the tone of the tale changes, and so the drawing style too. It becomes serious, darker and “realistic” (as opposed to the initial cutesy style). What started as a possible generic fairytale, turned into a real nightmare.

Mokona sensei described Akiho as having "nerves of steel" in a Clamp Space, and that certainly helped the girl surviving her childhood in her Clan. Yet, certain things will simply wreck you up inside, willing or not. And in the flashback of volume 6, chapter 25, we could see little Akiho struggling to comfort herself with the fantasy stories she would read to keep herself company. Despite wanting to enjoy them and smile, tears of loneliness still cut through her eyes. The mental abuse the Clan inflicted on Akiho showed its effects throughout the manga, with various moments where the girl's optimistic and cheerful nature would crack at the memory of what she had to endure while she lived with her relatives. Her apologetic behavior, constantly seeking for validation, is another symptom of that trauma. All of this, ignoring that her abuse didn't stop at mere verbal one. Because what they engraved into her with that ritual crosses any boundary and trespasses into physical abuse too. This is truly the most horrific part of Clear Card and it's no surprise that's been received by the fandom with criticism and concern while the serialization was going on.

Yet, I think the fact CLAMP wanted to introduce and depict the abuse these two magic groups perpetrated *in Cardcaptor Sakura*, of all stories, totally makes sense and in the next paragraph I will hopefully explain why.

How Sakura Was Affected By Them

Now that we have eviscerated both the Magic Association and the Squids Clan in every possible aspect, it's time to look at what CLAMP tried to depict through their presence in the story and what kind of role they have in the journey of self-understanding and growth for the main character Sakura Kinomoto. None of this is possible without taking in consideration all that I've explained above. ☝️

Truthfully, the Association + the Clan touched and affected (or we should say wrecked) Kaito and Akiho the most, directing their dangerous attentions towards Sakura only a couple of times. But they were very important for her growth too, since they represented the first "taste" of what awaits her as one of the most powerful magicians out there, and they led her to make the most important decision she's ever made till that moment.

After all, Eriol said it loud and clear. Powerful magicians are naturally drawn to Sakura, since she is a powerful magician herself. And Sakura was meant to meet all the magicians she encountered throughout her story.

The first point of "contact" with these two groups of criminals happened in volume 6, chapter 27, in the infamous scene of Fujitaka's library. The strong energy present in that place (capable to protect Clow Reed's book and the guardians) triggered the artifact inside Akiho, opening it (almost) completely. It was heartbreaking to watch Akiho push Sakura away with the last crumble of consciousness left in her, seemingly to protect her, before the Clan and the Association took control of her body through the artifact and started commenting on Sakura's powers. Several members of the two groups, both male and female voices, took turns in talking through Akiho, almost as if they possessed her. A scene that, if they'll decide to keep it in the anime adaptation, will be creepy at horror movie levels. Of course this is another one of those details that was completely lost in the English translation, as they didn't keep the difference in fonts that you can see in the Japanese one, hence you don't understand that it's not Akiho speaking, but most importantly there are several people speaking through her. I think what's most disturbing of this depiction is how it conveys perfectly how much they consider Akiho a property. A property they can exploit and literally manipulate and make use of as they please.

As soon as the Clan and the Association realized who Sakura was (till that moment she was very likely shielded by that protective spell that Eriol and Kaho applied on the girl, the same that Momo and Kaito had to see through to find her), they immediately tried to absorb her power into Akiho. That, as I've pointed out earlier on, would've instantly meant the death of Akiho's soul, as her "capacity" was almost full by the time she reached Tomoeda. This attempt will be foiled by Kaito through time rewind at his own expense, but the criminals will try again in volume 7, chapter 34, when Sakura used her magic in stopped time. This triggered Akiho's artifact again, and this time they successfully managed to trap Sakura into the big book that emerged beneath Akiho's feet (the same scene we saw afterwards in chapter 70, once the artifact passed to Kaito). Once she was inside the book implanted in Akiho, thanks to her intuitive powers Sakura was able to see a flashback of the moment when Akiho was turned into a magic artifact, living it (and suffering it) from Akiho's point of view. Even this attempt to absorb Sakura's power was foiled by Kaito once again, with a time rewind.

In chapter 46 Syaoran mentioned the existence of the Clan to Sakura after seeing their robe in her dream. Other than that, Sakura won't come in direct contact with them again till the end of the story (the attacks at the fake moon were triggered automatically and they didn't have a direct intervention from the Squids/Association), but I'm pretty sure that once she regained all the memories of the un-rewritten world (including the memories erased by the time-rewinds, as we can see in some scenes featured in the "film strips"), she had already pretty much connected all the dots, hence why she proposed to Kaito and Akiho to erase their existence from the memories "of those people".

At the moment of the climax in chapter 78/79, Sakura finds herself in a situation where she starts to grasp that behind Akiho, the real Akiho, and this guy she doesn't remember but who's Akiho's most important person, there are people who want to hurt those two. She doesn't know much, just what Akiho told her in bits and pieces throughout the story, but that's already enough for her to come to a very important conclusion (and decision).

The conclusion that in front of straight-up cruelty, she can't compromise, she can't keep being the good little girl who tries to be everybody's friend. Cruelty is inexcusable in Sakura's eyes, as it should be. All the more if the ones being hurt are those who are important to her.

Sakura finally learns with her very own eyes that in this world there isn't only the love, protection and comfort she grew up in, but there's wickedness and evil too. That such cruelty isn't a "far away thing" but it can actually hurt people very, very close to her. Of course, CLAMP calibrated on the target audience the depictions of such cruelty and Sakura's involvement with it, never crossing certain lines. The culmination of this realization is Sakura's decision to erase the existence of her friends from their abusers' memories, saying "What I'm about to do is probably not right, but I can't be on everyone's side". I thought that was one of the most powerful, most empowering messages that CLAMP hammered in our brains with Clear Card's finale. Our Sakura isn't a perfect, spotless angel. Within reason, she will stain her moral record a little bit, if it's necessary to protect the people important to her.

And here it's the right moment to introduce the symbology of the Magic Association and the Clan in this story. This is strictly connected to why Sakura made that decision, and why CLAMP decided to not have Sakura confronting the magicians directly.

A Message of Hope Through Social Commentary

Long time ago I had a very interesting discussion with a Japanese CCS fan on Twitter. This fan was wondering why the two groups seemed so important, like the source of all the problems behind this arc, yet they kept being depicted with their cloaks and headpieces pulled up, effectively hiding their identities from the readers' eyes. And the fan had found a very valid reason for it.

One of Ohkawa's private Twitter Spaces pretty much confirmed it for me, later on. Back then the topic was "prejudice" and chatting away, she ended up discussing a bit about CCS and particularly about Kaito's behavior in the chapters that were being serialized at the time. Her message between the lines was clearly "I know you think of him in a certain way right now, but don't let your better judgement be consumed by prejudice. When this story will be over, try to reconsider his behavior". The whole Space was centered on her effort in everyday's life to not let prejudice rule her decisions and assessment of situations.

With Clear Card's story over, I can finally attest that it truly was a story where CLAMP constantly tested our prejudices, time and time again. Not only with Kaito, but with Syaoran and other characters too. And the Japanese fan I was mentioning above explained that in their idea, the reason why CLAMP kept the Squids and Association's faces hidden the whole time was to prevent us from applying a prejudice over them too.

Their appearances don't matter. They can become distracting. This story isn't about them. It doesn't matter what skin color they have, if they're tall or short, if their hair is blonde or dark. We barely know they are located in England, we don't even have a name to call them with. Inside this story, all we need to know about them and focus on are their intentions and actions. Their actions are what define them and what we should be judging them for.

And that's when I realized the "no faces" approach also allowed for CLAMP to turn these two groups of people into a symbolic representation of abusive systems. Thanks to the fact that they're faceless, the readers can literally see in them whatever they can relate to basing on their own experiences: abusive families, exploitative working environments, but also modern society on a larger scale. Never doubt for one moment that CLAMP aren't still doing social commentary in their latest works, even after all these years.

Particularly, in this story Akiho's family is "just" a magic clan, but on a metaphorical level they are the representation of abusive families that burden children with expectations that destroy them psychologically. Think about how strong this metaphor is: "the spell that's been activated on Akiho by her clan will suffocate her soul until it gets destroyed completely, making her easier to manipulate" which is like saying "the family loads the children with lots of expectations, so much that they end up losing their identity, becoming 'puppets' of their family members". Some time ago I've read of a disabled Japanese fan who saw themselves in Akiho's character. Her lack of powers and the way she was treated by her family reminded the fan of their own disability, and what they had to endure everyday due to society's expectations and ableism. They were grateful to CLAMP for introducing a character like Akiho, with a story like hers, and for showing that Sakura and all the Tomoeda kids accepted her and loved her for who she was.

In this way, it becomes clear that the Squids and the Association are representative of systems and concepts that are just too big for a little child to fight against on their own. And that's indeed what happened in this story to Sakura (and Akiho) too. Those magicians are ruthless, organized in big groups and magically very strong. There's no way an eventual fight would've been on equal footing for her, no matter how strong she is. She's just a 13 years old girl, she shouldn't be taking on herself the burden to go against such an overwhelming danger.

Just like in real life, darkness will always accompany light and evil will always exist alongside good. It's unrealistic and unfair to expect that a child could be facing evil all on their own. Even if they are supported by other dear people, it's just impossible and utopian to hope to eliminate evil from existence like Sakura would've eliminated the Squids and the Association in an eventual magic fight. Sakura is the heroine of the story, yes, but she isn't magically nor mentally equipped for such a thing. CLAMP didn't want to lie to us and to their youngest readers. Some battles might be just too overwhelming to fight, and if there's ONE thing they hammered like crazy in this arc is that, no matter what you do, even if you're protecting someone you love, you always have to remember to keep yourself safe at the same time. Reckless heroism doesn't really benefit anyone. That was valid for Syaoran, for Kaito and for Sakura too, in the end.

That's why CLAMP, through Sakura's choice, decided to not let her have a direct confrontation with those two groups of criminals. Besides, let's be honest. There's no way she could've made them convincingly "change their mind" and pressured them to turn suddenly into good people with just a couple of idealistic phrases. It would've honestly looked like a joke and an insult to all the readers who had to endure abuse in their own lives. Oh, how nice, Sakura turned the Big Bad Evils into good people! ...Sure, but what about the pain, neglect and suffering that were inflicted on those who were just little children? Erased by wiping those people's slates clean?

Honestly, the only viable way that wouldn't have insulted the reader's intelligence would've been a straight-up violent fight, and that would've been not only jarring to see in CCS, where violence is certainly not how you solve problems, but also probably resulted in Sakura's death. Which of course, no one wanted to see.

So what do we do when we find ourselves in front of an evil too big to confront, too big to fight on our own? We just give up? We just succumb?

Nope. That's indeed why CLAMP have Sakura deciding to erase the memories as an ultimate, well calculated attempt to free Akiho and Kaito from the grasp of their abusers and at the same time stop the attacks that were threatening to kill all of them. Instead of focusing the resolution of the problem on the abusers, engaging in a fight with them that would've probably worsened the situation, she decided to prioritize the people she loves and ensure their safety first and foremost. I believe CLAMP never wanted to make it all about Sakura vs. Evil Magicians in the finale. That's not the kind of story they wanted to tell. I believe their constant focus and concern in the finale was the marginalized, abused party and how Sakura could help them out from her "privileged" position of a girl blessed with love and protection from all sides. How she could make use of her gifts (both her magic power but also her safety network of people she loves and who love her in return) to do good. Real, effective good.

So, summarizing all the above: by not showing any of the Squids/Association's faces or names, CLAMP successfully conveyed the idea that in the climax Sakura didn't judge and repelled individuals, but rather, the systems they were representing. Sakura didn't oppose "Mark, blue eyes and dark hair" "Elizabeth, green eyes and blonde hair" but actually their systems AND their actions, the atrocities they committed. And what I appreciated is that she didn't need for Akiho to tell her every single thing about her past in order to make her decision, because that's something for Akiho to disclose IF and WHEN she'll feel ready to. She just needed to hear and concretely see that her friends were being literally hunted, and let herself be guided by her affection for Akiho. Sakura did all of this prioritizing her abused friends, the oppressed minority (here it comes out again the topic of minorities so dear and precious to the CCS franchise) while ALSO protecting herself, by not engaging in any dangerous fight with those horrible people.

CLAMP's message for all those children (and even adults) who are suffering for situations that are just too big to defeat on their own, is to first and foremost figure out how to break away from the abusive environment. Run away (like Kaito did), cut ties (like Sakura helped to do), find help so that the poison can't reach you and bring you down again. You have to look for help first and foremost, but also find in yourself the will to be helped.

Akiho and Kaito received help from Sakura, but they also wanted to be helped by her (that's the part where Sakura asked them for their consent on the memory-erasing spell not one, but THREE times). And that's pivotal. The two things are interconnected and salvation isn't possible if you don't genuinely find in yourself the will to be saved.

Once you can break away from the source of abuse, you can start anew. You can take control of your life once again, lick your wounds, heal, move on and find happiness again. That's the concept of "we won't go back, we'll go on" that echoed loud and clear in Sakura's words during the finale.

I think the wish that inspired CLAMP while they were writing Clear Card's story is that any of their readers who are stuck in suffering can hopefully find their own support system.

Though the "Clans" or "Magic Associations" will keep existing out there, we don't have to face them alone. Our loved ones can help us getting out of that toxic environment and never look back.