#I hope this is to your satisfaction though

[kkai-zen]

hi! may i request with aiku as ex bf?? what would he do to get our hearts back??? (he kinda the one who ask for breakup but he’s still missing us) <3 have a lovely day!!

hiii! thank you for your request, i absolutely LOVED writing this one so much! it has a tiny bit of angst and some fluff. it was such a blast to write, and i hope you enjoy! ₊˚⊹♡

⤷ call you mine! ⊹₊⟡⋆

──── wc: 1.1k

ex-bf!oliver aiku who breaks up with you over a fancy dinner, holding your hand lightly as he says, “Let’s break up.” 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who watches you leave the restaurant with an expressionless face, your back disappearing out of the door into the rainy, cold night as tears bead on your lashes. He’s too busy for a relationship anyways, he thinks. You were only a distraction to him. This is for the best. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who’s spotted with some famous actress less than a week later, arm wrapped around her waist as he escorts her to some fancy, overpriced hotel—which is something you never experienced when you two were together.

ex-bf!oliver aiku who shows up in the news every now and then, and you find out that he’s had a new girl on his arm almost every week in the couple months following the break-up. Another actress, some rising singer-songwriter, a daughter of a wealthy CEO—he’s running through women faster than you can comprehend. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who puts on his trademark playboy bravado for the media, but can’t deny that there’s an empty hole slowly gnawing at his heart—a hole that your presence used to quietly occupy. It’s slowly breaking him down and he desperately tries to fill in the cracks with woman after woman, but it doesn’t matter. None of them are you. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku drinks away the ache of loneliness every night, finally admitting that breaking up with you was a mistake. Hell, even his parents thought that breaking up with you was a mistake. He misses the way his jersey falls over your frame and the way you’d fall asleep with your head on his shoulder during long flights and the way you smiled and laughed when he cracked a joke and- fuck. He just missed you. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku sends you drunk “I miss you” texts and sober “let’s talk,” ones, only for you to completely ignore them. He jumps at every text notification he gets (though he tries not to) only to be disappointed again and again when he realizes it wasn’t a text from you.

ex-bf!oliver aiku sees you for the first time after the break-up at one of his games—but why’re you cheering for the rival team? 

ex-bf!oliver aiku is consumed by jealousy when he sees you wearing someone else’s jersey. It drives him mad, and he completely crushes the other team, 4-0, as if he’s trying to prove something to you. When the final whistle is blown, he finds you all too easily in the crowd, satisfaction sparking in his stomach when he sees your pretty eyes fixed on him. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku tries to corner you after the game ends, running through the crowd, hand reaching out to tap your shoulder, only for you to slip away and vanish from his sight. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who should be celebrating his devastating win with his teammates is instead holed up in his apartment, drinking his feelings away. He shoots you a drunk “come over” text before passing out, holding his phone to his chest. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who shows up at your door a week later, holding a bouquet of flowers in hand. You’re surprised; he never bought you flowers when you two were together, so why now? 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who asks you, in a smooth, confident voice, “Let’s get dinner tonight.” only for you to reject him. You think about all the times he ignored your texts or forgot an anniversary or ditched a date to go drinking with his friends, and it’s more than enough for you to close the door in his face. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who, despite feeling a pang in his heart when the door shuts in front of him, shows up the next day, and the next, and the next, each time with a new expensive flower arrangement or luxurious self-care gift basket. You shut him down every time, but it doesn’t stop him from showing up the next day, gift in hand. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku who starts asking you a question each time he shows up at your door: “What’s your go-to coffee order? What’re your favorite flowers? What styles of jewelry do you like?” 

ex-bf!oliver aiku slowly begins to change, popping up at your door in the chilly mornings to drop off your regular coffee order, and often stopping by in the evenings to hand you a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers or jewelry that’s exactly your style.

ex-bf!oliver aiku does this for two months straight, surprising you with his presents and questions each time he appears at your door, and one day you finally bring yourself to ask him why he’s doing all this. 

ex-bf!oliver aiku, the one who’s usually brimming with confidence, is suddenly shy, his heterochrome eyes cast downwards staring at his feet. He’s silent for a moment, before saying:

“I know I should’ve treated you better. Really. Hell, I never even asked what your favorite flowers were. But I only realized that you put everything into loving me after you were gone, and I felt like shit because I know that I didn’t do the same for you even though you deserved it more than anyone else.”

He pauses for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Drunk texts aside, I miss you. A lot. And I just want to show you that I care about you and am willing to put effort this—into us— if you’ll let me.” 

You’ve never seen the proud play-boy Oliver look so vulnerable, voice soft and back slightly hunched. Clutching the bunch of flowers he’d just brought you, you think for a moment that maybe—maybe, he’s changed. 

And it’s instinct that makes you lean up to his bowed head and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

When you pull away, his eyes are wide, jaw dropped halfway open. You give him a hint of a smile. “This weekend. Take me somewhere nice, ‘kay? And don’t be late this time.” 

Without another word, you slip inside, leaving Oliver stunned on your doorstep. 

boyfriend!oliver aiku who shows up outside your door 15 minutes before the arranged time, clean-shaven and dapper in a crisp suit, elegant bouquet of flowers in hand. When you step out of the door, you look so beautiful that for once, Oliver is nervous to take someone out for dinner.

boyfriend!oliver aiku who now brings you flowers on every date, never misses an anniversary, celebrates with you after every game, and never ignores your texts or calls.

boyfriend!oliver aiku who finally recognizes how happy he feels with you at his side, and knows that he’ll never let you go again. 

[vamp1reb1tez]

“Bar Tabs & Bandages.” Silco x Male reader

A/N: This is my first fanfic I hope you guys enjoy :3

Working under Silco and the Eye of Zaun, you never imagined the two of you would get along—polar opposites in every way. Silco, with his calm, calculating demeanor, could keep even the most unruly of his men in check without raising his voice, while you were the kind of person who couldn’t resist poking the bear. You found his cold professionalism amusing to test, and it drove him mad. The only reason you were here was to pay off your debt.

You still weren’t sure why he saved you during the enforcer raid all those months ago, dragging your bleeding body back to The Last Drop instead of leaving you to die in the gutter like everyone else. Maybe he just wanted another soldier for his growing army. Or maybe he saw potential in you. Either way, here you were, stuck under his roof and his rules. Not that you were complaining. It was better than the alternative—at least here, you had regular meals and a bed, which was more than most in Zaun could say. Still, being beholden to Silco grated on your nerves, even if you found a certain satisfaction in testing his patience whenever you could.

Lately, though, you’d noticed a change. Silco seemed less irritated by your constant sarcasm, meeting your remarks with an exasperated eye roll or even, on rare occasions, a wry quip of his own. You weren’t sure what to make of it. Maybe he was getting used to you, or maybe your banter was finally wearing him down.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

One evening, Silco was hunched over his desk, a lit cigar between his lips as he traced a blueprint of Zaun’s streets. The Chem Barons were at each other’s throats again, and you could tell from the tension in his shoulders that the situation was weighing on him. He didn’t look up when Sevika burst into the room, dragging you in by the arm like a misbehaving child.

“This is the third time this week, Boss,” she snapped, shoving you forward. “He keeps picking fights in the bar. I’m sick of it.”

Silco lifted his head slowly, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His mismatched eyes flicked to you, then back to Sevika. “Leave him here. I’ll deal with him.”

Sevika hesitated, clearly annoyed that she wouldn’t get to rough you up, but eventually stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Silco leaned back in his chair, studying you with a mix of irritation and amusement. “You have a knack for getting yourself all messed up, don’t you?” His voice was smooth, with just a hint of mockery.

You shrugged, wiping the blood from your nose with the sleeve of your coat. “This one had it coming. Should’ve kept his mouth shut.”

Silco sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stood. “Maybe you should learn to control that temper of yours. I don’t need you bleeding all over my floor.” He moved to a drawer, pulling out a cloth.

You couldn’t resist. “It gives the place some character.”

That earned a scoff from him as he stepped in front of you. Silco knelt slightly, pressing the cloth to your nose. His touch was firm but surprisingly gentle, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he was—close enough to catch the scent of his cologne mingling with the sharp tang of cigar smoke.

“You can’t keep picking fights,” he said, his voice low. “Sevika’s already on edge with the way you speak to our patrons.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe Sevika should mind her own business.”

That earned you a sharp look. Silco’s hand moved to your jaw, his fingers firm but not harsh as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “That is her business. You’d do well to respect that and rein in that attitude of yours.”

You gritted your teeth but stayed silent, his mismatched eyes locking onto yours. He continued cleaning your face, his movements methodical despite the tension crackling in the air. When the cloth pressed against a particularly sore spot, you hissed and tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

“Quit squirming,” he growled.

“I’m capable of patching myself up, y’know,” you muttered, glaring at him.

Silco smirked, dropping the cloth onto his desk. He leaned forward, his hands braced on either side of your chair, boxing you in. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch.

“Oh, you’re capable, are you?” His voice was silken, dripping with sarcasm. “Then why did you let me help?”

Your chest tightened at the question, and your usual sharp tongue failed you. Silco’s smirk deepened, and he tilted his head, studying your face. “You wanted my help, didn’t you, doll?”

“That’s ridiculous,” you mumbled, looking away.

Silco’s hand caught your chin, gently but firmly turning your face back to him. “Oh, it’s entirely ridiculous,” he said, his tone mocking but without malice. His thumb brushed against your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.

For once, you were at a loss for words. This side of Silco—soft, almost tender—was something you’d never expected to see. And yet, you couldn’t deny the way your body leaned into his touch, craving more.

“Maybe I enjoyed being taken care of,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silco hummed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek. “Maybe I enjoy taking care of you,” he murmured.

The air between you grew heavy, the tension almost suffocating. Silco leaned in, his lips dangerously close to yours. “Now,” he said, his voice a low drawl, “are you going to stop fighting in my bar?”

You swallowed hard, nodding quickly. “No more fights. Promise.”

Silco chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “Good boy.”

The words sent a jolt through you, making your legs feel like jelly. Before you could overthink it, you grabbed his lapels and pulled him down into a kiss. Silco responded immediately, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss with a low groan.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Silco straightened his coat, his expression calm despite the flush on his cheeks. “Don’t let me catch you out of line again,” he warned, his voice steady but tinged with amusement. “If you persist, I’ll handle you differently.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at that. Maybe one more bar fight wouldn’t hurt, just to see what he meant.

[the-clockwork-fiend]

I had to look up fanfic cliches cuz i genuinely don't remember any shshsh </3

anyways i found "Seeing someone in a dress/suit for the first time"

and thought it could make a fun Turn the Tables prompt; "seeing them in super casual clothing for the first time" (they even SLEEP fancy)

After looking thru what characters you write for I thought it could be funny with Riddle, w/ him being the one Finally Wearing Casual Clothing :3

Hello, dear patron! You're just in time, do come in. As you could probably tell, I started an event to drum up more business. I don't suppose that would be the purpose of your visit here on this fine morning? Eh — it's raining? Ah... I haven't taken a peek outside recently, if that wasn't apparent.

1 - 20 - 25

❝ Tyrant's Day Off ❞

— Riddle Rosehearts x gn!reader...

Genre: a little angsty, mostly fluff. I am a firm believer that pre-overblot Riddle wouldn't have cut his partner any slack on rules, despite what I've seen floating around (no hate, just my personal thoughts, maybe that counts as a hc?). Following rules was way too ingrained in him at that point, even Trey couldn't get him to chill out. I hope this was to your satisfaction. Thanks for the request!

Event menu

You'd always known Riddle to be formal. It was no surprise, given how he previously ruled Heartslabyul with a vice-like grip. He liked everything to be tidy and in order, always perfect, or he'd blow a fuse. This tendency translated into every aspect of his life, including what he wore. Even outside of the school's uniform, he preferred button-down shirts and shiny, polished shoes.

There was a time when he'd tried to get you to adopt a similar style — you and the rest of the dorm, to be more precise. He believed that his dorm should be presentable at any given time; not Vil's standards presentable, he held Heartslabyul in high esteem and expected his dormmates to reflect that image. This showed in other ways too: punishing students for low grades using his unique magic, or assigning the lazier students with more chores in an attempt to instill a better work ethic.

Being Riddle's partner during this time was difficult. You were held in the same high standard as everyone else, though it was arguably a little higher. Riddle had apparently decided that you reflected upon him due to your more personal relationship.

However, that wasn't to say that it was completely bad. He was an excellent teacher and your stellar grades were an indication of that. He went through great lengths to have some quiet evenings with you, but they were always a little awkward; he had read numerous books on how to act when with your significant other, but you'd always felt that these instances were too stiff and practiced.

Not to mention the incessant pestering from your fellow Heartslabyul members. Numerous students had approached you, encouraging you to use your close relationship with Riddle to entice him to be more relaxed about the rules. Each time, your response was the same: "I've tried that already." And boy had you tried. But even Trey couldn't manage this feat, and you had similarly fruitless attempts.

You couldn't say you were all that shocked about the reason for his overblot. He'd always adhered to the rules quite strictly, and a sudden move like punching him square in the face after already being mad about the offending tart sent him far over the edge. You were more empathetic toward his behavior after learning more about his life before NRC — he hadn't told you much about his childhood — but you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel vindicated by Ace's punch all the same.

Life in Heartslabyul thankfully mellowed out after the events of Riddle's overblot. The former tyrant's loose screws were, so to say, screwed back in — mostly. Your relationship improved greatly, and the dorm became much less tense. No longer was there a looming worry of incurring Riddle's wrath when mistakes or mishaps were made. Though punishments were still handed out to rule breakers, strict upholding of the rules was a little more lax.

One of the things that didn't change, however, was Riddle's attire. You were worried that he might still being caught up in the past, but you checked yourself. They were clothes he was probably used to wearing, regardless of the meaning, and they were just clothes at the end of the day.

It was this reason in particular that made you do a double take as you passed him studying in the lounge one early morning. You were tired, having just woken up a few minutes before, and figured you were still half asleep.

You backstepped and peered into the room again. No, you hadn't been mistaken. There was Riddle, pen in hand and open textbook on the coffee table, dressed in a simple T-shirt and baggy sweatpants. His hair was still tousled from sleep, so he couldn't have been up that much longer than you. You weren't sure where or when he'd bought the clothes. In fact, you weren't even sure they were his. You'd never seen your partner dress like this, so you were definitely reconsidering your assumption that you were awake.

"Riddle?"

The boy turned. He'd recognized your voice immediately, and his eyes lit up as he caught sight of you. "Y/N. Good morning; I didn't wake you up, did I?" Your room, predictably, was next to his. In fact, he'd booted an older student out of it when he'd become housewarden and insisted that you use it. You shook your head, smiling slightly — which may have been more akin to a grimace — as the memory surfaced in your mind. "Nope, I just woke up a little bit ago. Say," you moved around the back of the sofa and sat down beside him and amusedly pointing at him. "What's with the clothes?"

Riddle looked confused until he glanced down, as though he'd completely forgotten what he was wearing until you'd pointed it out. "The rest of my clothes were dirty."

Riddle? Having dirty clothes? He was normally on top of his laundry. Still, you weren't complaining. The fact that even Riddle procrastinated a little was comforting. It was another sign of how much he'd changed, and while procrastination may not seem like a good change, considering Riddle's previous behavior, it was for the better in your opinion.

"Ah, that makes sense," you answered. You inspected the textbook that he was annotating and immediately leaned back, giving up. Too complex for your tired brain so early in the morning. You were actually surprised that Riddle was still awake reading it, but then again, this was Riddle you were talking about.

"Do you always get up this early?" you asked. Normally he was already awake and busy when you dragged yourself out of bed, but it had never occured to you how early he woke up to achieve this. Even though you were difficult to get out of bed in the morning, you woke up early enough that it never really mattered. Riddle hesitated, an unusual occurrence, before answering, "Sometimes." He offered no further explanation, and you didn't press the question.

Your stomach grumbled quietly, a not-so-subtle hint that it required sustenance if you didn't want to experience the relentlessly stabbing pain that would accompany the noises soon if it didn't. You relented and got up from the red sofa. "Have you eaten?" Riddle's eyes followed you as you stood, and he realized with a start that he hadn't when you asked the question. "I had some tea earlier," was his response. You shook your head in mock disbelief and sighed. "You can't fuel that brain of yours without food. I'll be right back."

A few minutes later, you were back at the sofa with two plates of eggs. You pushed the textbook across the coffee table and placed one of the plates in front of Riddle. He was about to protest, but you scooped up a bite with a fork and more or less shoved it into his open mouth. His cheeks flushed but he didn't say anything until after he'd swallowed.

"Thank you." He took the fork from you and set it down on his plate.

"You're welcome. And where did you get those clothes?"

His face went beet-red, a shade that almost matched his hair. "I- um, I borrowed them from your closet." Taking a closer look, you realized that the shirt and pants were yours. They were a bit small for you, but they apparently fit your partner just fine. "Oh, okay," you replied, going back to your eggs.

Riddle was evidently surprised by your answer. "You're not mad?" You were about to question why you'd be mad — partners did that normally, didn't they? — but then you remembered that Riddle had little knowledge about how dating was realistically outside of his slightly outdated knowledge from books. Also, you took this instance as a good sign; it made your relationship feel a bit more like a relationship.

"Nope." You paused, your fork halfway to your mouth. "You can grab my clothes whenever you want, you don't even have to ask." Frankly, you were very happy about this development.

Riddle was still letting the information sink in. He'd previously seemed almost ashamed, but now he was just a little embarrassed. "Alright..." he said. The conversation ended briefly while the two of you finished your eggs.

You sighed contently and leaned against the smaller boy, who stiffened at the unexpected contact before relaxing. Your plates were stacked neatly in the corner of the coffee table and Riddle was once more reading his book. With the rising sun entering the lounge through the giant window-wall on the other side of the room, you were cozy laying up against your boyfriend. The others would probably stay in bed for another hour or so, with the exception of Trey, who also had a tendency of waking up early.

The rest of your morning was pleasant, even though half an hour later it was interrupted by the arrival of Trey (and surprisingly Cater, who usually never got out of bed before 8 am). The latter immediately made himself a cup of coffee, declining Trey's offer to make it himself. "No thanks, Trey-kun. Cay-Cay can make it himself," Cater had answered before padding into the kitchen, his feet hidden in a pair of slippers.

Trey turned his attention to you and Riddle. "So what have you two been doing down? It seems a little early for studying." You'd moved to the other side of the sofa when Trey and Cater had come downstairs, and now, you sat with your legs crossed on the far cushion. Riddle replied, "It's never too early to study. Some people don't study enough, in fact." There was no question as to who he was referring to, given the sharp edge in his tone. Trey laughed sheepishly. "I bet that Ace will come around after his grades get worse." To you, he mouthed, "Hopefully."

"I heard my name?" Speak of the devil, the ginger popped his head into the room. Deuce appeared behind him, watching curiously.

"Yes, we were just talking about how terrible your grades are and when you're finally going to study," Riddle said dryly. "And Deuce, yours aren't much better." The duo shared an, "Urk!" and Ace quickly said, "Y'know, I'm feeling pretty hungry, I'm gonna go get some breakfast. Come on, Deuce." They fled from the doorway, presumably to the kitchen. You snickered, the brief interaction amusing.

Trey sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Oh, speaking of breakfast, do either of you want me to make you something?"

"I already made us some eggs," you replied. Trey glanced at the plates still stacked on the coffee table and nodded. "Alright." He left, heading in the direction of the kitchen.

You turned back to Riddle and shifted closer to him. "I think you should wear my clothes more often," you teased, though you were definitely serious about it. He got flustered again, attempting to stammer out a reply, but failing amazingly. You laughed at his response — or lack thereof — and leaned up against him once more.

"It's a one time thing!" he insisted.

"I'm just saying, I wouldn't mind," you giggled.

You're leaving? Well, I hope to see you again soon. Grab an umbrella — not the mechanical ones, they're in their prototype phase. Watch out for carriages on your way home, it'd be a shame if you got injured because one lost control. I bid you safe travels. Now, goodbye!

@xryptik @lyle-my-beloved @xen-blank @edith-is-a-cat @nervocat @nightmare-in-the-woods @floydsteeth @officialdaydreamer00 @cookiesandbiscuits @rainynightmoonlight @koihanwrites @casp1an-sea @vivisboutique @tako-cafe @creatorbiaze @l7k-a

Let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the TWST taglist.

[lonely-ey3s]

With All My Love: Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Past is a Bitch

Pairings: joel miller x f!reader (no outbreak)

Word count: 16.1k

Chapter Summary: Joel and you throw a barbeque celebrating your arrival with close family and friends. Tommy and Joel battle how to best help you and Maria with your mental health since being back as there are indications you both are experiencing PTSD. Meanwhile later on, as the party goes on, you and Joel make a bet to keep each other on their toes as you both can't seem to keep your hands off each other.

Chapter warnings: mentions of PTSD (nightmares), panic attacks, physical descriptions of panic attacks, SMUT (18+ MDNI), m!oral, f!oral, f!masterbation, filming yourself while you do some naughty things, filming you and joel while you do fun things, spanish dialogue with translations (joel's family speaks it), FLUFFFFFF, joel being the best and most supportive bf, joel and reader being filthy sluts, reader has long hair, mentions of blood/injury, if I missed anything lmk :)

A/N: i know today's going to be a hard day for some of us as there is a lot of uncertainty and fear with how things are going, with how tik tok magically came back, but is being heavily censored, and there are indications of the next few days being really hard and for some very dangerous. i am here with you, i am just as nervous as you. i doom scrolled on redbook and tik tok too late last night freaking out about what people are seeing and saying - just know that in great numbers we are strong and i'm so proud of how much we are fighting back against corruption and complete ignorance, but i also know the fight isn't close to being over with our corrupt politicians and billionaires but we are using our knowledge from A Bug's Life and not allowing those grasshoppers to control our rights. i love you all, please be safe and stay kind to one another. ❣️ enjoy this chapter, i hope it helps take you somewhere else if you need that for a little while today ✨

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist

About an hour later Sarah woke up to hearing Tommy’s laugh and ran downstairs, eager to meet Maria. 

Maria and Sarah got along fast as they both were relentless with Tommy, which was a treat to watch. 

The group of you quickly finished the rest of the list and prepared for the party a couple of hours from now. 

Tommy and Joel went out in the back to set up some chairs and start rotating the ribs on the smoker. Sarah was outside as well finishing up with some last-second decorations, making sure everything looked to her satisfaction. 

You and Maria were finishing up the inside, making sure everything was ready to go to either be baked or put out. Maria turned to you, “I heard you ran into Captain Williams in the airport when you got back, how was that?” she said softly. 

You shrugged, “It was good to see him, he seems like a kind man, and glad we got him back safe. His wife was a blubbering mess… huggin’ me like I dragged him from the depths of hell… it was a little overwhelming.” you chuckled, and shook your head. 

“I mean, if it was either of us in his place, those two would have been the same way, worshipping whoever brought us home, ya know? Love changes people…” she nods out to the boys, who you both know would move heaven and earth for you and your safety.

You nodded and smiled looking outside at Joel, “It does…” You looked back at the ranch dressing you were making, “I guess it still hasn’t hit me I have someone like that in some moments, you know? I’m just so used to bein’ on my own…” 

Maria nodded, and hummed, “Speaking of, have you heard from him since being back? Charlie?” 

You shook your head, and scoffed “No… I wasn’t in North Carolina for more than a few hours before Joel and I left for Austin. He had no time to even run into me. I didn’t even get my car.” you tsked and chuckled, “Knowing him though, the piece of shit probably already found it and stole it, who knows…” you put a small spoon in the ranch and did a taste test then adjusted the seasonings. 

“I uh.. I saw him when I got in town… he luckily had no idea who I was, you know… but he looked like shit, someone beat the shit out of him it looked like...” Maria said as she started to lay out paper plates and silverware. 

You didn’t even react, feeling numb to him now, “Hmm, he probably owed money to someone and they beat him for not paying it back.” you put a lid on the ranch and put it in the fridge. 

Maria shrugged, “Well karma came back and that’s all I’ll say about him.” she looked over and smiled at you. 

You smiled softly and nodded, “Agreed… karma.” you looked down at the list and saw you still needed to prep the burger patties. 

Maria got a text and looked over at you then cleared her throat, “Can I ask you somethin’ and you not get butt hurt or mad?” she looked your way, nervous about what she was about to bring up. 

You looked at her from the counter, confused by her question, “Umm sure…” you chuckled not thinking anything of it. 

She let out a small sigh, “What happened this morning?” 

You looked at her, confused about what she meant, “I… what do you mean?” you smiled softly then looked back at the hamburger meat you were prepping. 

“I… I’ll just be honest… Joel’s worried about you… told Tommy you were up early with a bad dream… Tommy asked I check on you.” she turned back to put napkins down. 

You shook your head, “It’s nothin’... I mean you know the shit we saw… bad dreams, they are normal.” you blew off the question, not wanting to dive deeper than that. 

“Y/N… it’s somethin’ when you can’t go back to sleep.” she turned back to you. 

You scoffed, “Maria, it was nothin’... I should have just gone back to sleep… I just…” you clenched your jaw.

“You couldn’t unsee what you saw…” she cut you off. 

You took a breath and looked down at the counter, “It was Z…” you cleared your throat, “I see his body… everywhere… in my dreams… I… last night was just a bad one…” you looked up at her, with sadness in your eyes.

She set down the rest of the napkins and came over and sat on the island next to where you were standing, “I can’t imagine what you saw, what you went through when he died… that’s something you carry that I can’t know or fathom… which means in ways… you’re alone in that trauma…” she looked down as she fiddled with her cuticles, “We both saw, did and went through some fucked up shit over there… it’s normal to you know… deal with some level of trauma.” she looked at you, “I just… I don’t want you to be someone who shoves it down and stays quiet and then it consumes you.” 

She was right, you were notorious for that. Avoidance. When you got to camp, you talked about Charlie once and then never again with her, but she could tell it still impacted you but you never brought it up, and when she tried you’d change the subject. She wasn’t dumb or ignorant and you knew that, but she respected how you weren’t ready to talk and just let it be. However, with this, you both knew how horrible a soldier's mental health could plummet when getting back home, especially if you have PTSD. You were told of the statistics all the time of suicide, self-harm, and alcoholism/drug abuse, drilled during seminars and training. You weren’t ignorant, but you thought you could just avoid it by not talking about it. However, Maria wouldn’t let you do that, and you had a feeling neither would Joel - as he most likely went through it with Tommy at one point when he got home.

“What are you suggestin’ I do then?” you sighed and leaned against the counter. 

“Talk to your boyfriend, let him in… or hell join a group like I’m going to do once I settle here…” she said nudging you with her leg, trying to get you out of your stubbornness. 

You sighed and nodded, “I’ll try…” 

Maria smiled softly and nodded, “That’s all I can ask of you…” 

You nodded and then looked at the time, “Wanna help me get ready?” you smiled, “Help keep Joel off me so this thing starts on time?” you chuckled.

“So they are the same… handsy and horny motherfuckers…” Maria chuckled as she hopped off the counter and headed upstairs with you as you both giggled. 

Joel and Tommy stood outside while you and Maria talked inside, putting chairs and things out from the shed. 

Joel seemed a little disconnected, he felt something was going on with you since this morning but hadn’t got a moment alone with you to check on you. He saw your mood instantly switch when Maria got there, but he knew something happened last night and he wanted to make sure you knew you could reach out to him, he didn’t want you feeling that the nightmares or trauma he knows you went through was going to be too much for him to handle, he wanted to be involved, to be a comfort, he just didn’t know how to help you see that. 

Tommy nudged his arm, “Where’s your thoughts at lover boy?” he chuckled. 

Joel smiled softly and then swallowed softly and cleared his throat, “Did you ever… what happened when you got home? Where was your head?” he asked softly, careful so Sarah didn’t overhear. 

Tommy looked at him concerned, “What happened?” 

Joel shrugged, “I’m not sure, I found out she had a bad dream and had been up for hours right before you came through my front door.” he chuckled sadly. 

Tommy nodded, and unfolded a chair, “Nightmares are common with PTSD, Joel.” he sighed softly. “I had ‘em when I got back. Bad ones… woke up in cold sweats or panic attacks. I’d hide in the closet for weeks after, couldn’t sleep by a window…” he chuckled and shook his head, “Took mama tellin’ me to get my head outta my culo (ass) and get some help.” 

Joel looked at Tommy, shocked, he had no idea it was that bad for him, “What did you do?” 

Tommy smiled, “I went to a local group… then they had me see a therapist, which I saw for about a year.” he took another chair out of the shed, “Maria is going to go to a group once she settles here, maybe she’ll convince Y/N to join her.” 

Joel started to dust off some of the chairs, “Has Maria been struggling?” 

Tommy nodded, “Loud noises are hard for her, she about had a panic attack in the airport… she also deals with guilt, from what she’s told me, they dealt with a lot of death, some they couldn’t help but some part of them blames themselves for not doing enough… I’d be surprised if Y/N doesn’t struggle with that… especially with what happened to Z.” he helped dust off the table and then got his phone out and texted Maria what happened and to reach out to you. 

Joel nodded, “I know Z hits her often, she just won’t talk about it, you know?” he sighed, feeling helpless when it came to these things. 

“I understand. There are just some things they won’t tell us… they think it’ll be too much you know?” he shrugged, “That’s how I felt at least… felt you already had enough on your plate with Rachelle leavin’ and Sarah bein’ a baby, handlin’ her all on your own. I felt guilty for even strugglin’ when you had that goin’ on.” he looked over at Joel. 

Joel looked at him sadly, he would have done anything for Tommy, “I would burn the world for you brother, I’m always here, especially for you.” He touched Tommy’s shoulder. 

Tommy nodded and smiled, “I know… but my younger, stupid, immature, and cocky post-deployment self - didn’t want to believe it.”

They both chuckled and nodded. 

“If it helps… I just let Maria know what happened, and she’ll try to reach out to her, and I’ll let you know what Maria finds out, in case it’ll help you.” he smiled softly, “We gotta stick together with these two, you know?” 

Joel chuckled and nodded, “We’ve got our hands full with them, don’t we?” looking your and Maria’s way. 

Tommy nodded, “I believe we do…” and softly chuckled as he nudged his brother's arm. 

You went upstairs and changed with Maria, she brought a change of clothes as she and Tommy were planning on staying the night and hanging out with you and Joel afterward. 

You had picked out another one of the sun dresses that Joel had in the closet for you, again aiming for comfort but also a part of you wanted to drive him mad all night. You came out of the bathroom and used some body shimmer sunscreen lotion to make your skin glow, Maria saw you and chuckled, “You are evil…” She shook her head as he also had a sundress on but yours was particularly a tease. “Joel is going to be drooling over you all night long…” she got up from the bed, putting on some earrings and last-minute touches to her makeup. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled cheekily, “I know…” you looked back at her, “Gotta keep him on his toes.” you sprayed yourself with some perfume and then smiled, “Ready to make some jaws drop?” 

She chuckled and nodded, “Oh yes please!” she straightened herself up as well and then you both walked downstairs, both of the brothers getting the grill ready out on the back patio. 

You and Maria both grabbed some towels that needed to go outside for the kids who were going to play in the pool. Then opened the screen door and walked out together. 

Joel and Tommy both were taking swigs of their beers when you both walked out and coughed up their drinks and then immediately followed you and Maria’s bodies as you moved, eyes glued to your curves and how insatiable you both looked. 

“Hey guests are gonna start arriving here in about 20 minutes, ya’ll need to go freshen up?” Maria asked, paying no mind to Tommy’s reaction. 

You walked by as well, and looked at Sarah, “Sarah, wanna help me with the food inside?” 

Sarah came over and nodded, “What do we need to do?” she zoned in, excited to help. 

You looked at Joel, and smiled sweetly, innocently, “Hup too cowboy, go change…” nodded your head upstairs then you went back inside with Sarah. 

Maria followed and closed the door after, both of you smirking as you walked. 

Joel and Tommy both stood there, blood rushing to the right place at the wrong time, smirking and in a daze from you both. 

Tommy cleared his throat, “That… that’s our girlfriend’s, right? We weren’t just graced by god herself, yeah?” still in somewhat shock. 

Joel chuckled nodding, “Cheeky devils those two…” he bit his lip and nudged his brother, “Come on…” he put his beer down and walked inside, closing the door behind him not waiting for Tommy. 

“Hey baby, can I have your help upstairs pickin’ out an outfit to match that…” he cleared his throat seeing Sarah turn around and smile innocently at him, “...beautiful dress you’re wearin’...?” he looked at you and nodded his head towards the stairs, biting his lip eagerly. 

You smirked and came over and pecked his lips, “Two steps ahead of you cowboy, laid out an outfit for you on the bed already…” You winked and continued to walk past him, getting the mac and cheese in the fridge to put in the oven. 

Joel watched your hips as you walked and chuckled lowly, “Oh did ya now?” 

You nodded and looked back at him, “Yes baby, from hat to boot, I got you…” you smiled sweetly and then bent over to put the mac and cheese in. Your thong outline showed through your dress just enough to make Joel’s cock harden immediately. He clears his throat and quickly moves to stand against the counter, “Baby?” his voice cracks slightly. 

Maria snorts and tries not to laugh so she turns it into a cough, “Sorry, my throat is dry…” She takes a swig of her beer, trying not to lose her shit at Joel’s behavior. 

You knew exactly what you were doing, and you felt so empowered by it, you loved making him like putty, so easy to make melt. 

You stood and closed the oven, turning towards him, “Yes sweetheart?” you smiled and put the oven mitts on the stove. 

Sarah came up to you, “Where does this go?” you smiled at her and then looked at Joel and smirked.

He shook his head and clenched his jaw, narrowing his eyes, mouthing ‘Don’t you dare…I need you…now…’ knowing exactly what you’re about to do to him. 

‘I’ll pay for it later.’ you thought. 

You wink at Joel and then look back down to Sarah, “Here, let me show you sweetheart...” you walk with her towards the back door and purposely walk by Joel so that your perfume would waft his way. You open the screen door and look back, “Maria can you help me with somethin’ out here too?” then look at Joel, and blow him a kiss as you three walk out to the yard. 

Joel chuckles and scoffs, biting his lip, “Oh that’s it. Game on.” he said and ran upstairs to change into something he knew would drive you crazy. 

You had laid out a nice cream-colored button-up and dark wash jeans with a tan-colored cowboy hat you found in his closet. 

However, he was playing chess, not checkers as he came down in a dark brown button-up with his sleeves rolled up a little, exposing the veins in his arms, dark wash jeans with a nice belt, and black Stetson hat, with his nice cowboy boots. You had a thong on to be his temptation, so he had a tight-fitting black tee on that form fitted him in every delicious way possible under this button-up that he’d use as his discretion throughout the day to drive you just as mad as he’ll be with you and that dress. 

You were in the kitchen with Maria, laying out the food on the table, when you turned and saw him, immediately feeling the heat pool between your thighs. He clocked you, made immediate eye contact, and smirked. The two of you having this nonverbal conversation between the two of you. You bit the inside of your cheek and raised your eyebrow at him, cocking your head to the side signaling ‘Well played’ and you pursed your lips together and then smirked back, shaking your hands out to gather your composure, before clearing your throat softly, “You look handsome cowboy…” you came up and kissed his cheek before walking behind him and gathering the platter of hamburger patties, “Can you start on these, handsome?” you held up the platter but pushed your elbows together and up to accentuate your cleavage when going to hand him the patties. 

He bit his lip and looked at you, his cock starting to get hard again, he knew exactly what you were doing. He let out a small chuckle, “Of course my love” he bit out of pure frustration, gently taking the platter from you. 

He went to go outside, but Sarah came in and saw him and smiled, “Well don’t you look pretty…” she said looking him up and down, giggling. 

“Shut up…” Joel chuckled before stepping outside. 

Sarah shut the door and you and Mariah let out a laugh, Sarah joining in, “What’s his problem?” 

You smiled and chuckled, “I think he’s a little… hangry…” you lied for her innocence. 

Mariah said under her breath, “You mean horny…” 

You nudged her and she chuckled.

Sarah nodded, “Yeah, he’s such a drama queen sometimes…” she sighed and smiled, “Anythin’ else need to go outside?” she asked softly. 

You shook your head, “I think we are good, do you need to change?” you smiled at her as you laid out the veggie tray. 

She nodded, “I’ll be quick!” she ran upstairs and shut her door to change. 

Maria nudged you, and chuckled, “Joel’s playing fire with fire…” She winked at you and nodded towards him. 

“Yeah… I know. What the fuck… he looks fucking…” you sighed frustrated and chuckled to yourself, leaning towards the counter, looking down to gather what you said next in case Sarah could hear, “god damn he’s good in that damn hat.” you looked up and rolled your shoulders, and then your head side to side, “What a menace…” clearly just as sexually pent up as Joel.

Maria chuckled and Tommy came in, he had changed as well and also looked very handsome, you smiled, “Lookin’ sharp Miller…” You nodded towards him. 

Tommy chuckled, now cooled down and even headed, “You two started it… with those damn… dresses…” he looked at Maria up and down, eyes hungry. 

You cleared your throat, breaking his gaze, “Reginald, eyes forward… there’s a child upstairs.” you scoffed jokingly and chuckled as you walked past him to take a beer to Joel outside. 

You opened the screen door and came up behind Joel, “You seem a little thirsty cowboy… need a drink?” you smirked seeing him turn his ear towards you and chuckle lowly. 

He flipped a few burgers then closed the grill, turned towards you, and gently grabbed you by your waist, pulling you against him, growling lowly, “Mmm baby… I need somethin’ else to satisfy my thirst…” he looked at our lips, eyes blown with lust. 

You chuckled and touched his cheek softly, “I’m afraid that’s not an option on the menu this afternoon…” you leaned up and kissed him gently. 

You went to pull back when he captured your lips again and kissed you slower and deeper, and then whispered against your lips, “You’re always on the menu baby…” 

You bit your lip and quickly kissed him again, then pulled away, “Mmm as are you, cowboy…” 

He reached back for your lips, hand slipping down to cup your ass, you put your finger on his lips, “Mmm nice try, not so fast…” you gently pushed away and grinned, “I wanna play a little game with you tonight… I have some rules…” you bit your lip, “I wanna see how long the other can last as we are clearly playing sexual tension chess…” you chuckled, “...the winner gets to choose what happens when everyone goes home… and where… it happens…” you smirked as you saw that piqued his interest, you gathered that Joel might like risky location sex which was something that made you a little nervous, “You interest?” you tilted your head and put your hands behind your back, cutely. 

He nodded and smirked, “Go on, what are the rules darlin’?”

You stepped one step back to explain without distractions, “Rule 1, no funny business kisses.”

Joel bit his lip and chuckled, “Easy. Next…” 

“Rule 2, while we are with or around others, no gawking… if the other person catches the other… automatic loss.” you smiled at him, “In other words, we can gawk, just not get caught by each other.” 

Joel nodded and grinned, leaning against the grill, taking a swig of the beer, “That’ll be a fun one…” 

“Lastly, rule 3, dirty talk is free game, but… no touching… only thing we can do is hold hands.” you cocked your head challenging him. 

He stood up and scoffed, “No touching? How… I…” 

You smirked, “Ready to throw in the towel?” you raised your eyebrow. 

Joel clenched his teeth and let out a breath, his competitive side being poked. He grinned, and rolled his shoulders, chuckling, “Ok… you’re on. Deal.” 

You smiled and chuckled at his reaction, “Before we start, is there anythin’ you need to get out of your system?” tilting your head innocently at him.

He nodded and immediately swarmed you, taking your cheeks in his hands, smirking against your lips, “Oh god yes, one funny business kiss…” 

You giggled against his lips and put your hands on his chest, pulling him in by his shirt as he leaned in and kissed you slowly and deeply once, then he went to pull away, “Mmm wait, one more for good luck…” you pulled him back and he chuckled and kissed you once more, humming against your lips and then slowing pulling away, keeping his eyes closed, lingering close to you. 

You stayed like that for a few moments before hearing the doorbell ring and then giggling, “Let the games begin!” you pulled away and walked towards the screen door, holding out your hand for him to take, “You comin’...?” you opened the screen door and waited for him. 

He bit his lip and chuckled, “God I love you…” he grabbed your hand and walked with you to the front door. Tommy saw him come inside and traded places with him, taking over the grill so he could greet the guests. 

Joel opened the front door and was greeted by two older gentlemen, “Hey! We brought booze!” Frank said excitedly and stepped inside, giving Joel a pat on the arm. 

“You must be the famous Y/N that Joel hasn’t shut up about!” Frank winked at Joel and hugged you, kissing your cheek gently, “It’s so lovely to meet you!

Bill stepped in after Frank and grumbled, “I also brought a couple of pies…” 

Joel chuckled and let go of your hand, “Here Bill, let me get those for you…” he grabbed two pies from Bill's hands, kissing your cheek softly, “I’ll go put these in the kitchen…” 

You instantly remembered who these two were from Joel mentioning them a few times over Skype, “Oh my gosh, you’re the famous Bill and Frank! Joel’s told me so much about you! I am so happy you are here!” you hugged Bill and kissed his cheek softly, after letting go of Frank, “Come! Grab some food! Tommy is manning the grill so go get a burger too.” you smiled sweetly grabbing their arms and walking between them to the kitchen. 

Maria smiled and came over to greet them too. 

The doorbell rang again and Joel looked over at you immediately and smiled. He reached for your hand, and the both of you greeted guest after guest like this, together. 

About an hour later the house and yard were full of people, most were either long-time friends of the Miller brothers, family friends, or neighbors of Joel’s. 

You and Joel were in the kitchen, both corned by different people. 

You were corned by Mrs. Rose, she kept telling you stories of Joel when Sarah was little, although they were adorable and you loved hearing how great of a dad he is and was when Sarah was smaller, you felt you were drowning and needed a lifeline of some sort. 

Joel was corned by Frank, he kept asking the obvious questions, how were things going, had you guys talked about you moving in, all of the usual gossip topics Frank loved to discuss. 

You both heard the doorbell and like a god-given blessing, both excused yourselves. 

You chuckled as you both met in the entryway, “Mrs. Rose can talk, can’t she?” you joked and it made Joel laugh a deep hearty laugh, “You have no idea my love…”, and Joel opened the door, and turned his attention to see who was there, his face instantly turned to a shocked expression, “Mama?” 

A beautiful older woman stood on the front step, “I’m so sorry I’m late mijo… traffic was horrible!” she reached in and grabbed Joel by the cheeks, pinching them gently, and kissed him on the cheek then hugged him quickly, pushing her way inside, on a mission, “I brought empanadas… they are in car, tú o tu hermano tendréis que ir a buscarlos.” (You or your brother will need to go get them.)

Joel chuckled and kept a hold of your hand as you were now hidden behind his back, hugging her with the other arm, “Mama, Tommy said you couldn’t come, said you had something come up?” 

His mom pulled away, glared at him like he was crazy, and tsked as she slapped his arm softly, “Traes a una chica a casa, cambio mis planes, mi amor.”  (You bring a girl home, I move my plans around, my love.) 

You smiled from behind Joel, understanding every word she was saying as you took Spanish in high school. 

Joel blushed and smiled, then nodded, lightly chuckling. 

She looked around eagerly, not seeing you were behind Joel's figure as she had kept you guys in a tight space, “¿Bien? ¿Dónde está ella?” (Well? Where is she?)

Joel smiled lovingly at his mom and then moved aside slightly, “Mama this is Y/N…” 

You peeked out and smiled brightly, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “Hello Mrs. Miller… it’s so lovely to meet you…” you held out your hand. 

She lightly gasped and held out her arms, “Cariño... ella es hermosa!” (Honey… she is beautiful) then she pulled you in for a gentle hug, “You must call me Elena, mi querida…” (my darling) she pulled back and put your face in her hands, “Come… we must talk.” she grabbed your hand and started to walk with you. 

You chuckled and looked back at Joel as she practically dragged you with her, smiling warmly and mouthing, ‘You didn’t tell me your mom was coming!’. 

He chuckled and shrugged then winked and watched, “I’ll go get the empanadas, mama!” and he left out the front door. 

She waved her hand to dismiss him and tsked, focused on getting somewhere to talk to you. 

Elena whisked you through the kitchen and out onto the patio, humming happily to herself, clearly on a mission. 

Tommy saw his mother weaving through the ground, you clocked his eyeline and nodded your head towards the kitchen as that was where Maria was. He nodded and knew exactly what you were saying, ‘You need to give her a heads up.’ 

“Uh… Mrs. Mi- I mean Elena… can I get you something to eat or drink?” you smiled down at her as you walked. 

She smiled and gasped, finding two lawn chairs, “¡Perfecta!, we must sit here!” she sat in one, and you sat in the other. 

You softly chuckled, “I must be honest ma’am, I didn’t know you were coming, I would have set you up a shaded area aside.” you looked at her softly. 

She waved you off softly, “¡Disparates!” (Nonsense!) “No need for that, I’m an old woman, but not one that needs special treatment, si?” she smiled warmly at you. 

You nodded, “Yes ma’am.” you looked down shyly, messing with the hem of your dress. 

She reached over and put a hand over yours, “Tell me… how does my son treat you, hmm? Le enseñé a adorar el suelo que pisas, ¿verdad?” (I taught him to worship the ground you walk on, is he?)

You blushed and continued to look down at your hands, then looked up at her, “He treats me like gold…” you smiled brightly “You raised a good man… he… I…” you looked back down at your hands and let out a small chuckle, “I love him very much, ma’am.”

She smiled and gently squeezed your hand, “He loves you more than I think he’s loved anything but that darling granddaughter he gave me.” 

You looked at her and smiled, “Sarah… she’s… I also love her, she’s so kind… smart…” you chuckled, “... she’s so funny… she’s such a good human. Joel… he’s a good dad.” you looked over at Sarah, playing in the pool with her friends, “She’s everything to me as well. I can’t express how much those two were my drive while over there ma’am… they got me out of a lot of shi-” you cleared your throat, and looked at her apologetically, “stuff…” 

She laughed softly, “You don’t need to tell me, I heard the stories of what you went through…” She looked at you sadly, “I was told you had a little boy… lamento tu perdida.” (I’m sorry for your loss) 

You teared up at Z being called your little boy and looked down sadly, a tear falling on your dress, without thinking responded, “Gracias, aprecio tus amables palabras.” (Thank you, I appreciate your kind words.) 

She gasped, “¿Tú hablas español?" (You speak Spanish?) She looked at you excitedly. 

You looked up, eyes wide, Joel didn’t know you spoke it, you wanted to keep it a bit of a secret, but then chuckled and shook your head seeing her reaction, this meant a lot to her that you spoke in her native tongue. 

“Sí, pero no tan buena como tú, estoy segura.” (Yes, but not as good as you, I'm sure.) you chuckled and winked. 

She laughed, “No, you speak it very well! Oh gracias a Dios…” (Oh thank goodness)

You chuckled and then saw Tommy and Maria heading your way, Maria in her head, looking nervous, “Here, let me go grab you a plate and drink, I’ll be back…” You nodded towards Tommy and stood up, squeezing her hand and smiling as you let go of her hand before passing by the pair of them, whispering to Maria, “She’s going to love you… just breathe.” then walking towards the screendoor. 

You made it into the kitchen and started to gather a plate of things you thought she might like, Joel came in and smiled with a bag of ice over his shoulder, “You got away…” he chuckled and came over, kissing your cheek gently, hovering his hand behind the small of your back, careful not to touch you, he smirked, “How’d it go darlin’?” then walked over to dump it in a bucket you had for beers and soda’s to put outside. 

You smiled and continued to collect food for her, “I think it went well… she’s very sweet. I think she liked the element of surprise though… catching us off guard.” you chuckled. 

Joel nodded, “Yeah, she likes keeping everyone on their toes.” he softly laughed. 

You looked up and smirked a little, “No mencionaste que tu familia hablaba español, mi amor…” (You didn't mention your family spoke Spanish, my love…)

Joel flipped his head around, and his eyes went wide, “You speak Spanish?” 

You chuckled at his reaction and nodded, “Not as well as your mom or you, but yes, yes I do.” you beamed and looked back down at the plate you were collecting. “Took 3 years in high school…” 

Joel grinned and bit his lip then came over and hovered behind you, careful not to touch you but close enough to know he’d drive you crazy, saying lowly, making his voice vibrate against you as he said, “Veo. Así que puedes entenderme cuando digo que eres una niña traviesa por usar esa tanga, ¿no?” (I see. So you can understand me when I say that you are a naughty girl for wearing that thong, right?)

You bit your lip and grinned, goosebumps spreading down your body, heat pooling between your legs again and your cheeks blushing, “Si, mi amor…” (Yes, my love) you said then turned around, careful not to touch him, and looked up at him, “Lo que significa que me entiendes cuando digo que espero usar ese sombrero mientras te monto esta noche…” (Which means you understand me when I say that I expect to wear that hat while riding you tonight…)

Joel smirked down at you, and leaned his hands against the counter to corner you in, “You have no idea how hot it is to hear that come out of your mouth baby…” he leaned in close to your ear, saying lowly, with hunger in his voice. 

Your eyes fluttered closed and you took a deep breath, feeling yourself flutter around nothing at your core. 

You looked at him up and down, slowly grinning, then made eye contact with him “Eso no es lo único que mi boca puede hacer, ¿verdad, vaquero?” (That's not the only thing my mouth can do, is it cowboy?) 

Joel let out a shaky breath, his cock starting to get hard again thinking about what you did to him with your mouth yesterday.

You bit your lip, leaned up, and kissed his cheek softly, “Excuse me mi amor…” you gently used the water bottle you were holding to move his arm to get out of his hold, carefully, not to break any rules before walking back outside, smirking to yourself, leaving him speechless against the counter. 

You walked over to Joel’s mom, she was still talking with Tommy and Maria, all of them laughing about something. 

You softly came up to her and gently touched her shoulder, “Here you go, ma’am…” 

She looked up at you and smiled, taking the plate, “Oh you’re too kind! Gracias…” She looked at Tommy, “Mijo, will you go find your brother?” she nodded towards the house and smiled sweetly. 

Tommy got up from his chair and came over and kissed her cheek, “Of course mama…” he reached back for Maria to come with. His mom shook her head, “No… let her stay here, rest her feet. I’m sure these two have been on them all day.” she smiled at the two of you. 

You came and sat by Maria in Tommy’s chair, gently touching her knee, smiling down at her. 

Maria smiled and nodded at Tommy, “I’ll be ok, she won’t bite baby…” she giggled.

Tommy nodded and leaned down, kissing Maria’s head, “I’ll be back.” he said before walking away to find Joel. 

“So tell me, girls, how have you been since being back?” she took a bite of a carrot stick. 

You looked back at Maria and smiled then nodded towards Mrs. Miller, “For the most part I think we’ve been doing pretty ok. I think it's setting in we are home…” you looked at Maria and she nodded then looked down shyly. 

“Yeah, I agree.” she said softly. 

Elena looked at you both and tsked, “Se honesta conmigo… por favor…” (Be honest with me, please) she sadly looked between you both, knowing you were both putting up a brave face. 

Maria bit the inside of her cheek and sighed softly, “I’m having a hard time being in busy enclosed areas… like the airport was hard.” she admitted. 

You looked at her and gently took her hand in support, “I’m… loud sudden noises I’ve noticed get me. But I’ve also been having flashbacks when sleeping.” you looked down at your hand holding Maria’s and clenched your jaw, feeling frustrated by this, sighing to let it go. 

Elena reached over and took your hand, “Talk to my boys… please. They’ll want to help… want to… solidaria.” (be supportive) She looked at you both with pleading eyes. 

Maria nodded, “Tommy is going to get me into a group locally when I get settled here… said it helped him.” she smiled softly. 

Elena nodded, “Yes, the group was his saving grace.” she sighed sadly, “He felt… uhm… como dices… culpable?” (guilty) 

You nodded, “He felt guilty for putting it on anyone but himself…” you looked at the ground and nodded, “I think that’s how I feel… don’t want to burden Joel with the hell we saw… went through…” you shook your head and tears started to cloud your vision. 

Elena squeezed your hand, “No eres una carga para luchar. Por tener dificultades para comprender y superar lo que pasó.” (You are not a burden for struggling. For having a hard time understanding and moving past what you went through.) 

Maria looked at you, needing translation.

“We aren’t burdens…” you looked at her sadly. 

Elena saw Tommy and Joel starting to walk towards you all from the back door, she looked at them both and nodded, smiling softly, signaling for them to give her a moment more. Both stopped and understood, and got pulled into a conversation with Bill, asking who made the mac and cheese. 

Joel focused on you, smiling softly at the sight of you and his mom together before turning his head towards Bill, explaining it was your recipe.

Elena looked back at you and Maria and reached her other hand for Maria to take, Maria moved in her chair closer and took her hand. She looked at you both and smiled softly, tearing up, “You… both… make my two boys very happy. Ellos viven para ti ahora…” (They both live for you now.) She gripped your hands a little tighter, “Let them take care of you, and give them the chance to help you when you… como decir… struggle?” she didn’t know if she used the right word. 

You smiled and nodded, “We understand… and we will…” You let go of Maria’s hand to wipe a few tears that escaped. 

Elena smiled and nodded, shaking your hands softly, “Bien…” 

You looked at Maria and leaned our head against her, offering her comfort, she chuckled as some tears escaped as well, and she wiped them as well with her free hand. 

You saw Sarah climb out of the pool, “Abuelita!” and grab a towel, running over to her, smiling. 

Elena smiled brightly, “Mi hermosa niña!” she stood from her chair and put her plate down, opening her arms to embrace Sarah. 

Sarah ran over and hugged her tightly, smiling from ear to ear. 

You stood up and looked down at Maria, “I’m going to go grab myself a plate now that everyone’s settled in, you need anything?” 

Maria smiled and shook her head, “I’m good thanks.” 

You nodded and then walked back inside, closing the door behind you, grabbing a plate, and looking to see what was left. 

Frank came in, “There you are! I’ve been waiting for Elena to let you go…” he chuckled. 

You looked up and smiled, “You need somethin’ sweetie?” you asked kindly, starting to put things on your plate.  

Frank shook his head and smiled, “No… not exactly, I just wanted to talk to you more. Get to know you more. Joel… well… he won’t shut up about you, but I’d like to talk to you, get to know you from… you.” he chuckled and got a beer from the counter.

You smiled, “Won’t shut up about me? I’m flattered…” you chuckled. 

Frank sat down at one of the barstools and watched you fill your plate up, “Joel he’s… he’s different. He’s not so grumpy since meeting you.” he chuckled. 

You looked up at Frank, “Joel? My Joel, grumpy?” you tsked and then chuckled, “He can be a bit closed up I’ve noticed, especially with Mrs. Rose…” you chuckled, “... but I can’t imagine him being grumpy…” You smiled to yourself as you grabbed a cucumber slice and took a bite.

“Well that’s Rose for ya, she’ll know the color of your underwear if you’re not careful with what you do and say around her…” he chuckled, “Which by the way, from one gay guy to a woman with a rockin’ body, you played with fire today…” he nodded towards your ass and you turned bright red. 

“Shit, you can see?” you all of a sudden got embarrassed. 

“Honey, every man within an eye shot and a cock between his legs can see you’re either not wearin’ anythin’ or what you are, is very very small…” he winked and laughed softly, taking a swig of his beer, “Joel keeps tellin’ his coworkers to keep their eyes forward and that you’re to be respected… he’s a very possessive man of what’s his.” 

You blushed and couldn’t hide the smile that stretched across your face, “What’s funny is we have this thing goin’ on and h-…” You stopped talking, realizing you were about to dive into this sex bet you and Joel were doing pretty much a stranger. 

Frank leaned forward and whispered, “Sweetheart, I’ve seen your thong, we are well past the ‘new person’ manners and decorum, finish the damn sentence…” he chuckled. 

You blushed and tucked a hair behind your ear, “Ok… fine.” you chuckled and leaned forward too, “We have this bet going on that we can’t… gawk at each other when the other person can see… and we can’t touch each other except for holding hands… so he’s most likely…” you bit your lip and then took another bite of the cucumber, “... a little frustrated if you catch my drift.” you looked at him grinning. 

Frank took a swig, “I like you… you’re fun!” he chuckled and then grabbed your hand, “Come on, we’ve got loads to talk about.” he took you back outside and sat with you on the patio swing. 

The both of you sat and talked for what seemed like hours, the sun had started to set and a few people left, but there was still a majority of the group sticking around, enjoying good food and company.

Joel came over and sat next to you, putting his hand on yours and his arm around the back of the swing, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you...” he kissed your hand softly then cheek then looked at Frank, “Frank that wine you brought, my mom wants to know where ya’ll got it from… it was really good.” he leaned and smiled at Frank.

You smiled against him, gently squeezing his hand when he settled in by you. 

Frank smiled, “Oh I have another bottle in the car, I’ll just give it to her… we got it when we traveled to France a few months ago, and had a crate mailed to us.” he stood up, “I’ll go grab it and be right back.” he set his beer down on the ground and then left to go inside. 

Joel kissed your cheek again once it was just you two, “I’ve missed you… I’ve felt I’ve not seen you much as we’ve been pulled separate ways every damn time I get near ya my love.” 

You smiled and adjusted yourself to look at him better, “I’ve missed you too…” you kissed him softly once then pecked his lips once more. 

He sat back and smiled down at you, “Are we breakin’ any rules by doing this? I’d hate to call a forfeit…” he chuckled softly, rubbing his thumb against your hand softly. 

You shook your head and giggled lightly, “No… we can have this. This is nice… nothin’ can be funny business when I’m sitting and swingin’ with you handsome.” you leaned your head against his shoulder and you two swung softly. 

Joel gently kissed the top of your head and sat with you peacefully. 

A few moments went by then Tommy came over, “Hey you two lovebirds…” he smiled and stood with his hip popped out like he wanted something. 

You smiled at Tommy, “Everything ok?” 

He nodded, “Yeah, can I just borrow Joel for a little bit? Bill wants some help with somethin’ on his truck. We just need a ‘nother set of hands.” he smiled down at you.

You nodded and smiled, “Yeah, of course.” you took your head off his shoulder and kissed his cheek, “I’ll just wait here…” 

Joel turned his head and kissed you softly, then stood up, “We gettin’ dirty?” he looked at Tommy. Tommy nodded, “Most likely… he needs undercarriage help” 

Joel nodded and started to unbutton his button-down, and then took it off, unveiling the tight black tee he was wearing under which was tucked in and had a nice buckled belt on which made him look even more delicious.

The tee exposed his broad shoulders, and thick muscular biceps, roped down with veins that bulged when he flexed to slide out of the button-up. Once taken off, he set it over his shoulder and took off his hat briefly, running his hands through his hair to push it back before putting it back on his head. 

Your jaw hung open and your eyes filled with not one ounce of anything appropriate at that moment. This - this was his thong, the bastard. 

Frank came out before Joel turned around to kiss you. He saw your face and how you were gawking, so he cleared his throat loudly, snapping you out of your daze before Joel saw, saving your ass in this cruel bet you both agreed to. 

You blushed and turned to Frank, he smirked, “I’m going to run this over to Mrs. Miller then I’ll be right back.” he walked towards that area of the yard, wine bottle in hand. 

Joel looked down at you, smirking, “You were gawking weren’t you?” he leaned down, chuckling, gently kissing your lips. 

You smiled against his lips, “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about cowboy.” you gently flicked the brim of his hat and winked before kissing him gently once more. 

He pulled back, “I’ll be back, don’t go far darlin’…” he smiled at you and walked out with Tommy to Bill and his truck. 

Joel and Tommy went out to the driveway and started helping Bill with something regarding his suspension, all of them getting greasy and a little messy. 

After about 20 minutes went by, Bill was trying to loosen a bolt near his strut and was getting frustrated as it wouldn’t come loose, “This damned thing…” he readjusted the wrench and his position and went to try again but his hand slipped and something sharp in the undercarriage and sliced through his palm and up his wrist, “Ah, fuck…” he grabbed his wrist, dropping the wrench, sliding out from under the truck. 

Tommy looked down with a flashlight at him, “Fuck…” 

Joel came around and saw, blood coming out pretty quickly. “Shit.” 

He yelled hoping you would hear him, “Y/N! Baby, we need help!” he looked at Tommy after a moment, “Go, go get the girls.” 

Tommy nodded and ran in and went to grab you both. 

You were laughing with Frank when you heard Joel yell for help. You sat up quickly and clocked Maria from across the yard, both of you in crisis mode immediately. You stood from the swing and ran in the house, out the front door, “Joel?!” fearing that something happened to him, not making it past the front steps before he looked at you and yelled, 

“Med bag now!” he looked at you, kneeling by Bill who you could see was bleeding. 

“Fuck…” you nodded and ran back into the house, “Frank, it’s Bill!” you shouted from the stairs towards the back door. 

You ran up the stairs and grabbed your medical kit from the bedroom, rushing back downstairs. 

Maria already had run out with Mrs. Miller and half the party while you were upstairs, all surrounding Bill and the truck, murmuring. 

You ran out and pushed through the crowd, “Someone call 911.” you commanded tying up your hair, locked into the situation. 

You knelt by Bill and took his arm, “Here let me see…” You accessed his hand, seeing he might have nicked an artery or major blood vessel by how much blood was coming out, “Someone tell me what happened…” you asked calmly, looking through your bag for what you needed. 

“Damn bolt was too tight, hand slipped.” he bit out. 

You nodded, “Got it. Who’s calling 911?” you questioned the group. 

Maria piped up, “I am. I’m speaking to an operator, what are your findings?” she knelt across from you. 

You unzipped your bag, opened it up fully, and began putting gauze on his wrist as that was where most of the bleeding was coming from, “Tell them we have a deep laceration of palm that extends up the inner wrist. Explain that the blood loss suggests that it may have nicked the ulnar artery or a major blood vessel, we need an ambulance now.” you zoned in and looked around you for resources. “Tommy, I need your belt...” you said while trying to get the bleeding to stop but it kept coming.

“My what?” he questioned. 

“Belt. Tommy… now…” you instructed, there was no time for questions and you were in your element, not worried about niceties. 

He undid his belt and handed it to you. 

You looked at Maria, “Maria, ETA?” 

“7 minutes…” she said and then set the phone down on speaker and helped you by putting pressure while you used Tommy’s belt to tunicate Bill’s upper arm. “We need them here now… fuck.” you were getting frustrated by the lack of tools you had at your disposal. 

Bill winced and cursed under his breath when you pulled the belt tight, “Ok Bill, I need you to lay flat for me.” helped his head lay down on the pavement as he was slumped against the tire. 

You looked over the arm, thinking, eyes scanning over everything you had around, whispering to yourself, “Think think…” 

Joel put his hand on your back, “Baby, what do you need from me?” he asked softly. 

“Ummm…” you thought about what could work to pack, then got it, “Can you get me some dish towels and duct tape?” you looked at him, “We need to pack this and this gauze isn’t enough…”  

He nodded as he stood up and ran inside, grabbing both within a minute. 

You smiled softly and took them from him, “Thank you sweetheart.” you started to gather them up to best pack the wound, “Bill, I’m going to start packing this, it may hurt, just warning you.” 

He winced as you began packing the wound, trying to stop the bleeding as much as you could. However, he started to lose color and get a little confused with his surroundings. 

“Maria… we need an ETA…” she stood up and took the phone, turning away to speak to the operator. 

Bill’s eyes started to close, so you gently tapped Bill’s face, “Bill, you need to keep your eyes on me. Tell me what’s going on with your truck, talk to me.” you tapped his face again until he opened his eyes.  

The vibe of the area drastically changed after that and people started to worry. Mrs. Miller hugged Tommy, worried. Frank was in tears standing to the side, and Sarah hugged his side to comfort him. Joel knelt by you but gave you enough space to work. He was in complete awe and admired how amazing you were under pressure, this was your element and he was grateful in a way he got to see you work. 

Bill started to slur his speech as he began talking about his truck and his eyes started to close again, his breathing becoming more shallow, you looked at him and touched his cheek, “Shit..” you looked up at Maria for a moment then back down, “Maria, I need an ETA!” you said asked with slight panic in your voice as you started to wrap the tape around his arm to keep the wound packed tightly, “Bill… look at me… keep your eyes open.” you coaxed. 

Maria turned around, “2 minutes… they have sirens going and everything.” 

You tapped Bill's cheek, “Bill wake up…” he didn’t respond. 

“Fuck.” you felt his pulse point, barely anything, he’s bleeding out. You leaned down to listen for breath sounds, weak and uneven. “God damn it Bill…” you said as you listened. 

“Maria, tell them his pulse is weak and breath sounds are weak and uneven, I’m starting compression and mouth to mouth, they will need an immediate crash cart upon arrival…” you yelled to her and then angled his head to the correct angle for compressions and mouth-to-mouth then sat up on your knees and started compressions. She nodded and relayed the information to the operator, turning around to hear what they were saying better.

Frank started to sob and Sarah did too, you looked at Sarah as you started pumping Bill’s chest, “Sarah, go inside sweetheart, I need you to get me my pouch that has a red cross on it, it's up in the bedroom…” 

She nodded and ran into the house, you stopped after a set amount of compressions and did two breaths into Frank's mouth then started doing compressions again, “She doesn’t need to see this.” you said as you looked over at Joel with a sad look in your eye, doing what you could to shield and protect her, he nodded and put his hand on your back in support. 

You looked at Maria, and she nodded at you knowing you wanted an update, “They are pulling into the neighborhood, I’m going to flag them down.” she ran down the driveway, and you began to hear sirens in the distance. 

You did two more breaths and then started to continue compressions, “Hold on Bill, I got you… stay with me.” you gritted as you pumped his chest. 

You looked at Frank, “Frank look at me, he’s going to be ok. He’s just lost a lot of blood, ok?” you continued to pump and then did two more breaths then felt his pulse, it was getting stronger, you nodded and continue compressions, “There we go… there’s that pulse comin’ back.” you chuckled out of breath from compressions, “Come on…” you looked up and saw lights pulling into the street. 

Maria brought two paramedics to where you were, one a woman and one man, they had a transfer board and the crash equipment, you continued to do compressions as you explained what was going on, what happened, his stats, and how his pulse was getting stronger with compressions. 

“Ok, we need to load him up, can you help?” the woman asked setting the transfer board down on the ground next to Bill.  

You nodded and rolled Bill on his side so they could put the transfer board under him. You looked at the pair, “I’ll lift the board if one of you straddles him and continues compressions into the truck…” you suggested.

The woman nodded and straddled Bill and started compressions again, you went to the head of the board and grabbed the end, your cleavage showing as you had to bend down a little, “On three?” you asked the other paramedic. He was looking at your cleavage, you glared at him, “Oi, eyes are up here… on three we lift?” you bit out. 

Joel heard and saw him ogling you, and glared at the paramedic. 

He cleared his throat and nodded, turning red, “On three…” he said.

You both lifted on three, grunting and then walking to the gurney behind some of the cars, Frank following close behind. 

Elena came up and touched Joel’s arm as he stood and watched, “She’s got fire mijo…” she said smiling softly watching you with him from a distance. 

Joel nodded and blushed watching you, “She’s amazing mama…” he hugged his mom to his side. 

You helped load Bill in and stepped out of the bay, after telling Frank you guys would come visit in a few days. He thanked you and hugged you then hopped into the bay, sitting and holding Bill’s hand.

The male paramedic cleared his throat as he jumped out of the bay after you and looked at you, drinking you in, and he smirked at you, “Hey, uh you ever wanna g-…”

Joel cleared his throat, coming up behind you and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to him, “Everything good to go darlin’...?” he kissed your bare shoulder, keeping eye contact with the paramedic. 

You blushed at Joel’s motives and knew what he was doing, you stepped back into his hold, “I think so cowboy… Bill’s conscious now…” You looked at the paramedic, “You guys are good, right? Going to Austin General?” you cocked your head at him, smiling sweetly.

The paramedic swallowed and cleared his throat, “Yes ma’am. Thank you for all you did to help.” 

He looked at Joel and nodded at him, “Ya’ll have a good night…”

Joel smirked, “Oh, we will…” he leaned down and kissed your shoulder then inside of your neck softly. 

He nodded embarrassed and closed the bay door and then tapped it twice before going around to the driver’s seat and driving off with Bill and Frank to the hospital. 

You chuckled watching the truck drive away, “Did you just lose our bet or should I give you a freebie with those funny business kisses and touching?” you teased as you leaned against him smiling. 

He kissed you again on the neck and took a breath, inhaling your scent, humming, “I give in… I can’t handle not holding you the rest of the night.” he rubbed your stomach with his thumb. 

You smiled and slowly pulled away, biting your lip, looking at him lovingly, “Come on then, let’s go have a good rest of the night…” you kissed his cheek, “I’m gonna go freshen up, wanna get the firepit started?” 

He nodded “Yeah sure baby…” but then looked at you with so much love in his gaze and took your cheeks in his hands and leaned in and kissed you softly and slowly a couple of times, pulling away a little, “You were amazing… I love you so much.” then kissing you once more. 

You smiled against his lips then pulled away and hummed, “I love you too sweetheart…” you kept your hands behind your back as you didn’t want to get him dirty with how much blood was on them. 

You walked back up the driveway, eager to wash yourself up, internally starting to feel overstimulated by the familiar sensation of blood on your hands.

Maria and Tommy were talking to Elena and Sarah. You smiled at Elena kindly and nodded your head as she looked at you before grabbing your bag and heading inside. 

She watched you and saw you roll your shoulders and shake your hands out, starting to feel anxious. 

Joel came up to the group of people hanging in the front yard and smiled, “Ok, the good news is Bill will be ok, he’s headed to the hospital. Y/N is going to freshen up and then we’re gonna do a firepit and do smores and put some music on.” 

Everyone let a breath of relief out and nodded, heading back inside to the backyard. 

Elena came up and took Joel’s hand, “Mijo… go check on her… ella parecía ansiosa al entrar…” (She looked anxious heading inside)   

Joel looked at the front door and nodded, then looked at her, “Can you ask Tommy to get the firepit started?” 

She nodded and kissed his cheek, “Of course, mijo.”

You went upstairs and shut the bedroom door quickly, starting to feel slightly on edge. You shook your hands out again and clenched your jaw trying to blow it off. You took your dress off which had Bill’s blood on it and put it in the hamper, before going to the sink and turning on the water, washing the blood off your hands, feeling yourself start to feel anxious by the familiar image of what happened with Z, flashes started to cross your mind. You let out a breath and shook your head, “No… it’s ok. I’m ok.” then you dried off your hands. You walked to the closet and got some loose-fitting Wrangler jeans and a baggy but cute brown sweater. You put it over your head, pulling your hair out and looking at yourself in the mirror, mentally telling yourself you were going to be ok. 

You sat on the bed to put on some different shoes and stood to go back downstairs when you heard someone’s truck backfire that was leaving the house. However, to you, it sounded like gunfire and you were instantly transported back to Delta 30. Flashes of Z and his body clouded your mind and instantly felt like you were suffocating, your heart started to race and you started to breathe fast, tears blurring your vision, feeling the room close in around you, you shrunk to the floor and curled into the corner, “Fuck.. fuck…” you started to hyperventilate. 

You shut your eyes and whispered, “Breathe…” you put your hand on your chest and felt your heart racing, your hand was shaking against your chest. 

Joel knocked on the door gently, “Darlin’, can I come in?” no answer.

You didn’t even register anything around you, your ears were ringing, and your senses were all over the place. 

Joel knocked again, “Sweetheart?” no answer. 

He opened the door and peeked in and saw you in the corner, hyperventilating, curled in fear looking at the bed. He instantly bolted over to you, kneeling in front of you, taking off his hat to get close to you, “Baby?” he gently took your face in his hands, and had you look at him, your eyes looked terrified, “Baby I need you to breathe for me…” his eyebrows furrowed in concern as he looked over you, “Hey… look at me, breathe in through your nose…” he took a breath in through his nose for you to mimic. 

You weren’t registering anything, his voice was muffled and your ears rang, you shut your eyes and held your hand against your heart, “I…” you started to cry, unable to catch your breath, breathing fast and unevenly. 

After speaking to Tommy earlier, he researched how to help with panic attacks and other things you might experience so he would be ready to help. 

He racked his brain to choose something he read to help.  

Joel stroked your cheeks “Hey… I got you, sweetheart, here…” he took your hand, opened your palm, and started to draw a circle in it, repeatedly, watching your reaction, you looked at what he was doing and your breathing slowly started to slow down. “There we go… shhh… it’s ok.” he kept doing it, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, whispering against your skin, “I got you, my love.” 

You watched as he continued to draw circles, beginning to come back to him, tears falling and starting to ramble as you were watching his finger, “He… he was just there and then he wasn’t…” your lip trembled, “I should have protected him… I didn’t check what was behind me and got detained… he… he got shot while I was captured because I didn’t do the one fucking thing I was trained to do in combat… check my surroundings…” you sobbed, “... he was a child… a baby… and he… he’s dead because of me…” you closed your palm and pulled it to your chest, reclusing back to the corner. 

Joel looked at you and shook his head frantically then touched your cheek, “No… no my love… hey… come here…” he moved quickly and sat by you and pulled you onto his lap, to lay between his legs, holding you close, putting your head on his chest so you could hear his heart to calm you down, kissing your head and he held you tight, “Darlin’, it was not your fault...” he rubbed your arms and back slowly and softly, “What happened back there, I will never understand what you truly went through, but I do know one thing, and that is, none of it was your fault.” he kissed your head, “None of it.”

You closed your eyes and tried to concentrate on his heartbeat, “I… I feel like he died because I wasn’t careful enough.” you admitted quietly through tears. 

Joel kissed your temple softly, and whispered, “Baby he died because evil men shot and killed a defenseless kid in the back of a car.” he sighed sadly, “His death is on them, not you.” 

You kept your eyes closed and focused on your breathing, taking in Joel’s words, focusing on what was around you, smells, sounds, textures. 

Joel gently would squeeze your arms and rub your back, trying to release tension, whispering soft promises of protection and safety to you. 

You calmed your breathing and nodded before sitting up slowly and wiping your tears, sniffing, “I’m ok…” you sighed softly. 

Joel took your hand softly and kissed it, finding your eyes, “We can send everyone home… do you need tonight to be done? I’ll go out and kick everyone out…” he said with every fiber of him. He’d burn the world for you. 

You chuckled and shook your head, wiping your tears before touching his cheek softly, “No… I need to be around our people tonight. I just need to be with you and I’ll be ok.” you smiled softly at him. 

He nodded, “I’m here, I won’t leave ya sweetheart.” he smiled and leaned in and kissed your forehead before pulling you in his arms once more. 

You hugged him and it was like everything dissolved, he brought such peace to you that you never thought you’d have, it was hard to describe but you knew with him, you were safe. 

He held you and then you pulled away after a couple of minutes and slowly stood up, grabbing his hat from the floor, and held out your hand for him to take, softly smiling at him. 

He took it and stood, standing inches from you, you leaned up and kissed him softly, while putting his hat back on his head, then pulled away, “You’re wearin’ this more often, yeah?” 

He chuckled, “Anythin’ you wish is my command, mi vida…” he cupped your cheek and kissed you slower this time, holding onto your lips, savoring this moment he had with you. 

You blushed and smiled after he pulled away, keeping your eyes closed, “Kiss me more like that too, yeah?” 

He smiled and nodded, rubbing his nose against yours, chuckling softly, “I can arrange that…” he leaned back in and kissed you again, this time holding onto your waist and the back of your head and neck, supporting your neck as he kissed you. 

You pulled away slowly after a few kisses, “If we don’t stop, we won’t make it back downstairs…” You looked up at him and slowly backed away, holding onto his hand as you walked backward. 

He bit his lip and smiled, “Maybe that’s what I want…” he let you drag him towards the door as you softly giggled. You opened up the door and let go of his hand and began walking down the hall, towards the stairs, hearing some music playing outside and people laughing and talking amongst themselves. 

Joel stood in the doorway and watched you for a moment, soaking you in. This was the happiest he’d ever been, aside from when Sarah was born. However this changed everything including his fears and anxieties, he didn’t want you to be consumed by what happened in the past. Whether that was your past back in Afghanistan or with Charlie, he promised to do whatever he could to protect and make you happy, keep those tears and fears away from you as best he could. 

You went down a few stairs then looked back and saw him in the doorway, you smiled and held out your hand, “Come on, they are dancin’ out there and I wanna see those moves you told me you had.” you giggled. 

He smiled warmly and pushed off the door and joined you, taking your hand, and walking with you out to the back.

9:48 pm 

People had slowly started to head home, even Elena who had a longer drive than most. Joel offered her the guest room but she insisted on going back home. You asked her to call either Joel or Tommy and let them know when she got home safely which she did about an hour after she left. 

Frank called and let you all know that they started some blood transfusions for Bill and he was going to be fine, they repaired his hand and found the cause of the bleeding. He said that he was going to be monitored for the next few days but everything was going to be ok. 

Sarah went home with one of her friends who begged Joel to let her sleepover as they wanted to watch a movie that had just come out for rent at the movie store. Joel told Sarah to call him before she went to sleep but let her go happily as that meant he’d have the house with you tonight. 

Tommy and Maria, a few other tipsy neighbors, and you both were left in the backyard. You were sitting by the fire laughing and talking to a neighbor of Joel’s and Maria. Joel and Tommy were insistent that you and Maria remained seated while they cleaned up a little and straightened up. 

There was music softly playing over the speakers and for the most part, people just talked while it played, the dancing had dimmed down after the masses headed home. Joel and Tommy showed off their moves and invited you and Maria to join them as they’d teach you how to do it. However, it was just an excuse for them to have you both close to them and sneak kisses from you in between each step. You and Maria caught on though and had a rough idea of how to dance. 

You had a glass of wine in your hand and were wrapped in a blanket, chuckling at a story Maria was telling when you heard a song come over the speaker, ‘Thinking Out Loud’ by Ed Sheeran. You smiled seeing Joel walk over to you with a warm smile on his face and stop in front of you with one hand behind his back and one hand outstretched towards you, “May I have this dance with you darlin’...” 

You nodded, “Of course my love…” you put your glass down and gently slid your hand into his as you stood up. 

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it then slowly walked you to the middle of the yard and held yours and his hand at his chest while pulling you in by your waist and slowly started swaying side to side with you as the song played. 

Some lights lined the backyard above you giving you, giving it a light and romantic atmosphere. Along with the fire pit burning, it was perfect. 

Joel hummed along to the first part of the song, holding you close, keeping eye contact with you before he started softly singing along, 

“And darling I will be loving you 'til we're 70

And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23

And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways

Maybe just the touch of a hand

Oh me I fall in love with you every single day

And I just wanna tell you I am

So honey now

Take me into your loving arms

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

Place your head on my beating heart

I'm thinking out loud

Maybe we found love right where we are…”

You smiled up at him and put your free hand on his cheek as he sang along, gently stroking and tracing your fingers against his cheek, swaying along with him, holding his hand against his chest. 

Joel kept singing to you, gently rubbing his thumb along your waist and the back of your hand as he swayed with you, completely in the moment with you, not caring about anyone or anything else around, just you. He’d occasionally bring your hand to his lips and kiss it or your forehead.

Maria grabbed your phone that was sitting by your seat and took a few photos of the two of you, knowing how you always mentioned that was important to you, to photograph special moments with your loved ones, but that no one did it for you when you were in the moment. 

Towards the end of the song Joel took a step back and spun you around softly then pulled you into him to have your back against him and to hold you tight, arms around your waist as he swayed and leaned his head down and whispered into your ear, “I love you so much darlin’, thank you for all you do to make me happy.” he kissed your shoulder, inner neck and then cheek before setting his head by yours and closing his eyes as the two of you swayed like that to the rest of the song. 

Once it was over, Tommy whistled loudly, “Alright, I think that’s a good way to end a wonderful evening! If everyone will please gather your things, please take any leftovers you brought or would like and thank our hosts - it’s time to head home!” 

You chuckled and stayed against Joel, “Sounds like Tommy wants to go to bed…” 

Joel chuckled and kissed your cheek before pushing against your hip gently to spin you back around and pull you against him slowly and softly, continuing to sway with you while another slow song played in the background softly. He cupped your cheek and smiled looking down at you, “Did you have a good time today?” he caressed your cheek softly. 

You smiled, “I did, I’d love to do this like once a month or something with our friends and family… host a dinner or barbeque… it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time with a big group of people.” you looked up at him while you both swayed, ignoring the mass of people packing up to leave. 

“We can do that. How about every 2nd Saturday, we will do that, invite anyone we want to and it can either be something entirely made by us or like a potluck thing.” he said softly, “Anything you want to do, I’ll make it happen.” he leaned down and kissed your lips softly, pulling back slowly. 

You blushed thinking of something would love to do with him but you didn’t want to mention it as you criticized yourself for even thinking of it so early into your relationship with him. However, it’s how you felt, you wanted a life with him in every sense and meaning of it. You wanted to marry him, you knew that he was it, you had found your soulmate and partner in life, your best friend. You both had already admitted you wanted to have kids together and add to your family, it was just a matter of time before you got married, right? That was something Joel would want too, or so you thought. From what you know, Rachelle and he didn’t marry. They got pregnant with Sarah and then she left, he never mentioned marriage or divorce, just that she left. Was marriage something he wanted with you, or let alone anyone? You started to feel yourself overthink and some anxiety bubbled up and were just about to say something to Joel when Mrs. Rose came and touched your arm, snapping you out of the rabbit hole your mind just went down. 

“Thank you so much for the invite, I had a lovely time!” she smiled at the both of you and pulled you into a gentle hug and then grabbed Joel by the face and hugged him as well. He was hesitant but gave in and wrapped his arms around her softly, giving her a nice gentle hug. 

“Thank you for comin’ Rose. You’re a permanent invite on our guest list for future events, and always will.” you said smiling at her hugging Joel. 

She pulled back and smiled at you both, “Joel, could I trouble you for your help? I brought some casseroles but it’s dark and I w-” 

He cut her off, “I’d be happy to help Rose, don’t need to explain… just ask.” he smiled kindly. 

You saw something switch in Joel, especially in how he just interacted with Rose. Maybe Frank was right, maybe Joel wasn’t so grumpy towards those he usually is grumpy to? 

You gently touched her arm, “I’ll see you around, I’m going to go inside and make sure nothing gets left behind by others.” you smiled at Joel and went back inside to the kitchen. 

Mostly everything got taken by its rightful owner, all but two empty pie crystal dishes which you knew were Frank and Bills. 

You looked at the sink filled with dishes and rolled up your sleeves, thinking that you didn’t want to do anything tomorrow but rot and enjoy a nice easy day around the house with Joel. 

You filled one side of the sink with warm soapy water and the other with dirty dishes, you tied up your hair in a ponytail and put your phone on the counter which was playing some Fleetwood Mac on a lower volume. 

People greeted you and thanked you as they left, and after about 5 minutes, the house was empty.

You continued to wash dishes and either put them in the dishwasher for a deeper clean or put them on a drying rack near the sink to dry off during the night and put them away tomorrow. 

Maria and Tommy cleaned up the kitchen and living room by sweeping and wiping down the surfaces before telling you goodnight and heading to the guest room together. 

About a half hour later you heard Joel come through the front door and softly call for you, “Baby?” he took off his boots by the door. 

“Kitchen, sweetheart…” you said as you smiled washing down a pot that you used for mac and cheese earlier. 

Joel came in and smiled, coming up and touching your waist, kissing your cheek, “Where did Tommy and Maria go?” he grabbed a dish rag in the drawer by you and stood next to you starting to hand dry the dishes that were on the rack, doing his best to help or stay busy next to you. 

“They went to bed, they helped wipe down and tidy the kitchen before though, I just have been working on this mountain of dishes for a little bit.” you smiled and put the pot in the dishwasher, deciding it needed a deeper clean. “Did you get trapped by Rose?” 

Joel smiled and nodded, “Yeah, she needed help lifting something back onto a shelf in her garage and then chatted my ear off while I slowly backed up down her driveway towards the sidewalk.” he chuckled and started to stack plates that he would dry off to put away. 

You chuckled and dumped a bowl full of silverware into the water to soak, “She’s a hoot. I like her…” 

Joel nodded, “Me too, I just need to be better about tellin’ the woman I need to go.” he looked over at you, “I think gets lonely sometimes and I feel bad, you know?” 

You nodded and looked back at him, “Was there ever a Mr. Rose?” then you looked down and started scrubbing the silverware with a sponge. 

“Yeah, he passed about 5 years ago, Julio was his name. He was a nice guy, but he passed all of a sudden, I think he had a stroke or somethin’... Rose said he had a clot that traveled up to his brain.” he said sadly. 

You nodded, “Aneurysm it sounds like…” you said softly and sighed, “... that’s rough.” 

Joel nodded and continued to dry things off, “Can… what can cause that?” he sounded slightly concerned. 

“A lot of things, but mostly smoking, trauma, and genetic markers. Trauma is the most common though, the person hits their head or gets their chest crushed, it can lead to it.” you tsked, “It's a peaceful way to go though… you don’t feel a thing, you just… stop.” 

Joel looked over at you and nodded, “He was a smoker… I guess that makes sense.” he looked at the dishes he was drying, “And he didn’t suffer… that’s comforting to know.” 

You nodded, “If he did pass of an aneurysm, he would have just stopped breathing, but it wouldn’t have hurt him, he would have never known.” 

Joel nudged you softly, “Ok so we agree neither of us is dying that way, right?” 

You looked at him and chuckled, nodding, “Deal.” You started to load up the rest of the silverware in the dishwasher and then you bent down and grabbed a tablet from under the sink and put it in, starting the dishwasher’s cycle. You then unplugged the water rinsed down the sink then started to put away dishes. 

Joel smiled, “If I tell you to go upstairs and rest, you won’t will you?” 

You shook your head and chuckled taking a pile of plates in your arms, “Nope, we finish this together and go up together.” you walked behind him to the cabinet the plates go in. 

“Stubborn little thing you are…” he smirked at you. 

You looked at him and smiled, “Yep!” you giggled and continued to put plates away, humming along to the song that was playing on your phone. 

Joel shook his head and smiled, loving how easily you could make him happy. He put the remaining dishes away and then wiped down the counter with the rag before tossing it into the laundry room, coming back to the kitchen as you were wiping down the other counters with a dish rag, smiling softly. 

You turned around and smiled at him, he came over and put his hands on your waist, leaning in and kissing you softly, “Ready for bed?” pulling away gently and slowly taking your hand to pull you upstairs. 

You took his cowboy hat off his head and put it on yours, smiling, untying your hair to let it flow down your shoulders and back, “When do we get to go dancin’ cowboy?” 

He smirked and looked down at you, you looked adorable in his hat, but also something deeper erupted in him and he had to feed it, “I’ll take ya next weekend my love…” he kissed your lips slowly, cupping your cheek towards him, slowly pulling away after a few kisses, softly and lowly saying against your lips, “Darlin’ do you know about the ‘cowboy hat’ rule that you just broke?” he gently kissed you again, this time deeper, pushing you against the counter. 

You giggled against his lips, “Is this a legit rule or one you made up cowboy?” 

He grinned and pulled back slowly from your lips, grabbing your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter above him, slotting himself between your legs, looking up at you, nipping the tip of your nose gently, “It’s a real rule…” he had eyes full of lust, all the pent up tension you both had from teasing each other today, was coming to a head. 

You loosely wrapped your arms around his shoulders and teased your fingers into his hair, “I see… and what does this rule entail then handsome?” you leaned in and kissed his lips slowly, pulling his hair gently as you held onto his lips, smirking as you kissed him. 

He hummed and breathlessly pulled away from your lips, “Mmm first, you won our bet, where am I takin’ you?” he gently kissed your lips then moved his head down to your neck and began littering you with kisses and love bites there. 

You softly moaned, “Can I cash in my location for somewhere a little more… public another day?” you grinned knowing that would excite him. 

He groaned against your skin, and nodded, not being able to form a response for that request, he looked up at you and licked his lip, “Bedroom then?” he seemed desperate to get you somewhere, alone and quickly. 

You nodded and pushed his chest for him back up a little before you slid off the counter and then gently grabbed his shirt collar, pulling him close to you, leaning up to capture his lips, kissing him deeply a couple of times, before pulling back and grabbing his shirt and pulling it off him, throwing it to the floor then pulling yours off, revealing a black lace bra that left little to the imagination. 

Joel’s jaw dropped and he smirked. Between the wrangler jeans you had on, your bra, and the hat on your head, you were the image of a cowboy’s wet dream, “Fuck you’ve been hidin’ this from me all day?” he stepped forward and went to grab you when you stuck your hand out to stop him, biting your lip. 

“What’s the cowboy hat rule?” you held him where he was. 

He grinned, “If you steal a cowboy’s hat, you have to ride the cowboy darlin’...” he looked at your body up and down from where he was. 

You cleared your throat, “Eyes are up here…” you giggled. 

His eyes snapped up and met yours and then he gently took your hand and pulled it to his lips, “I apologize darlin’, I just can’t help myself…” he said making his southern drawl more intense as he looked at you with those big brown eyes and started to try and move towards you again. 

You bit your lip and stepped back, holding him where he was, “Mmm, hold it right there, I want you to do something for me baby…” you looked at him up and down, drinking him in. He was standing there in his jeans and belt that was very ‘cowboy’ of him and shirtless and you were soaking your panties while you were standing there, admiring and thinking of everything you wanted to do to his body. 

He nodded and was breathing quicker, more excited, there was an obvious bulge in his pants, “Anythin’ baby…”  

You looked over at the stove clock, “I’m going to go upstairs, and I’m going to touch myself…” the clock read 11:19 pm, you looked back at him and said slower, breathlessly, “If you can stand here… and wait til that clock hits 11:30 pm before coming upstairs to join me, we can film this… ‘cowboy rule’...” you grabbed his phone from the counter and grinned at him. 

He grinned sinfully, and groaned hearing this request, “And if I can’t wait my love?” he kissed your inner wrist, eyes on you. 

“You won’t need to worry about that baby, because you’re going to be good, and wait, aren’t ya?” you smirked and pulled our hand away, backing up towards the stairs then you stopped a few feet away and turned around and undid your jeans. 

You looked behind your shoulder biting your lip as you slowly slid them down your ass which revealed a black silk thong. You stepped out of your jeans, turned around to face him, and tilted the cowboy hat towards him, revealing the sinful black set you were wearing, “Remember cowboy, 11:30…” You winked and ran up the stairs. 

Joel was speechless and dropped to his knees, worshipping the ground you walk on with his cock straining painfully against his jeans.

You ran up and closed the door so it was just cracked open, you opted to keep everything you were wearing on as you knew Joel would enjoy taking it off when he’d inevitably make it upstairs. 

You took his phone and turned the camera on, pushing the record button, and then laid it down facing the bed on the dresser which sat at the foot of the bed, making it the perfect angle to capture you both at any position you may be folded into. You bit your lip and smirked as you backed up and looked at the bed.

You knelt in the middle of the bed, facing the door, which was also towards the camera so while you waited for him, you used the camera to your advantage knowing he’d see this too once it was saved to his phone. 

You slid your hand down your panties, finding your clit, and started to rub circles onto it lightly, moaning softly, smiling as you put your other hand behind your back, feeling how sensitive you are by just your touch, you felt excited to be fucked senseless by Joel. 

Downstairs, Joel knelt and held onto the counter like it was a lifeline, whispering, “11:30…” to himself as he looked back and forth from the stairs to the stove clock. 

He heard you moan his name at 11:26 pm and just about ran up, not caring about the recording, no matter how fucking hot it was you wanted to do that. 

He stood up and whispered “Fuck it…” and only made it a few steps before he bit his thumbnail frustrated and shook his head backing down, circling right back to where he was and kneeling back down again to avoid temptation. 

He watched the clock on the wall above the table which allowed him to see the seconds tick down. He tapped his thumb against the counter and watched as the minute hand got closer and closer to the 6. His breathing was slow and controlled but his heart was pounding excitedly. His feet were ready to run as soon as he gave himself permission to. 

He heard you moan again but louder at 11:29 and 15 seconds. He grinned and muttered to himself, “Less than a minute Joel, hold on…” he watched painfully as that clock ticked closer and closer to 11:30 and once it hit he didn’t waste a second. 

He slapped the lights off and ran up the stairs, 2 at a time, and at one time towards the top, using his hands to help him crawl up faster. The minute he got into the bedroom he closed and locked the door, and saw you on your knees, fingers teasing your clit as you had just come down from an orgasm. 

You sat up on your knees, pulling your fingers from your core, and licked your fingers as you made eye contact with him, humming in delight. You ran your hands down your body to the strings of your thong hugging your hips and started to tug on them, “Come ‘ere cowboy, I believe I need to saddle up…” you said lowly, then bit your lip as you rocked your hips back and forth as you had your legs spread like you were already straddling something. 

Joel swallowed and racked his brain, did he want to take this quick and erratic, or be slow and sensual, taking every ounce of pleasure from you? His cock was saying the first, but his heart and head said the other. 

He smirked and nodded then came to the bed and kneeled in front of you, gently took your face in his hands, cupping your cheeks, and leaned down to kiss you slowly, deeply, and with every ounce and atom of love he could put into a kiss. 

He pulled away slowly and said against your lips, “We’re gonna take this slow, I want to still be pulling pleasure from your sweet lips when that sun comes up…” he leaned back in and continued to kiss you, sliding his tongue between your lips after a few. 

You moaned softly and moved your hands down from his chest to his belt and began to unbuckle it and then his pants. 

He moved his hands down to his pants and tugged them down, along with his boxers, letting his cock spring free. The tip was red and angry with lust, dripping sweet precum from it. 

You put the hat back on his head after seeing his cock spring free and pulled from his lips slowly before moving your knees back and leaning down to lick up his shaft. You ass up in the air and lean on your elbows as you began to suck on his tip in front of him. 

He grunted when your lips sealed around his tip and began taking him down your throat, “Fuck… your mouth feels so good ‘round this cock…” he gathered your hair up in his hands and held your hair back for you as you continued to suck him off, getting further and further down our throat. He looked down and groaned, smirking, your eyes already looking up at him, “Fuck you look so hot like this… cock in your mouth, ass in the air…” he clenched his teeth and reached forward, to grab your ass, and shake it in his grasp. 

He began to rock his hips gently down your throat and move his fingers down your thong seam, feeling how wet you were, “Fuck baby, you’re such a good girl, cummin' on your fingers to get ready to take me…” he slapped your ass softly, earning a moan from you which caused him to whine as the vibrations around his cock almost became too much. 

He sat up and let go of your hair, which for you meant to take yourself off his cock, “Mmm fuck, my turn…” Joel grinned down at you and softly pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you back up to him, he leaned in and kissed your lips deeply then sucked on your bottom lip and pulled away, making you moan and grin. 

“Lay on your back…” he said lowly, panting softly. 

You scooted backward a little and then lay on your back, head on the pillows. Looking up at him, you breathed slowly and controlled. 

He slowly ran his hands down your thighs and touched the fabric sitting on your hips, hooking his fingers under it, “Hips up beautiful…” he requested. 

You lifted your hips and he pulled your thong off, smirking as he leaned over and opened his nightstand drawer, putting them inside and shutting it, “Those are mind now…” he leaned back up and gently spread your legs before backing his knees up and laying down on his stomach, nestling his head between your thighs, kissing them softly. 

He hummed and smiled as he continued to kiss them, “I only have one request…” he said into your skin. 

You looked down at him and your breathing sped up with him now between your legs, ready to devour your core. 

“You are not to hold back any of those sweet sounds that come from that beautiful mouth of yours…” he looked up at you with those big brown eyes, “Tommy and Maria were so drunk on wine and whiskey they are out cold, they won’t hear a thing, you understand?” he kissed your thigh, inches away from your soaking core. 

You gasped and nodded, “No holding back…” 

He bit his lip gently and then hummed looking at the sight in front of him, “That’s a good girl…” slowly leaning in and starting to lap up what you already had to give him before taking more.

Previous chapter - Next Chapter

A/N : hehehehehehe ya’ll thirsty for more… nasty bitches 🤠 this will be continuing in chpt 9 so get readyyyy 🙂‍↕️🫦

taglist:  @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen

[lightlycareless]

I finally got it out of my system but omg you do not know how much it took me to write this, like??? I wanted but words simply did not come out. I feel burnt outtttttt :( it must be stress.

Anyways, I still hope you enjoy it.

warnings: none. fluff. you have a baby girl with naoya but what's new? and before anyone comes for me he is REFORMED hahahahah 🙈🙈🙈

Happy reading!

Imagine your and Naomi’s first slumber party. Obviously, everything you do with her is special, your highlight of the day, but this particular event stood out from the rest.

Firstly, because you got to see your adorable baby’s reaction to things she’s never seen before, or more like try out such as manicures, pedicures, make-up, and her favorite: press on nails.

The endless possibilities with such when it comes to designs are enough to keep Naomi thrilled, though she always goes with Hello Kitty.

And secondly, because of a surprise you have prepared for the end of the night; but for now…

“Mama, I want that one please!!” she gasped enthusiastically, not wanting to miss the opportunity to decorate her nails with her beloved cat. “Please mama!!”

“Of course, dumpling. I got them solely for you!” You grin, glad to see your baby having a good time.

“Can you also do my make up?” she quietly asks, as if afraid you’d tell her no. When in reality you had long prepared for this request; it was no secret to you how fascinated Naomi was with you whenever getting ready, rushing to your side as soon as you approached the vanity table so she could see all the magic that entailed makeup.

Luckily, that mystery was to end now.

“Do I look pretty like you mama?” Naomi asks, causing you to coo.

“Oh, even prettier!” you gush, taking her into your arms and kissing her flushed cheeks.

“No mama, you’re pretty!” she counters. “Like a princess!”

“Stop it, mochi. You’re going to make me cry…”

“No crying, only smiles!” Naomi insisted, making you giggle.

“Alright, I won’t cry. Now, do you want to do my makeup?”

Naomi gasps.

“Can I??”

“Of course! It’s what you do in slumber parties!”

Naomi undoubtedly has the time of her life trying out all the things she always wanted to do with your makeup, careless of her inexperience, if she knew which colors matched well with other or what would make your features stand out, because in her mind, she was already the best! Just as you continuously encouraged her.

From there, the rest of the night continued on by watching movies and eating your and her favorite snacks—mochi. Naomi was nothing short of a delighted ray of sunshine before these treats, giddily enjoying all of the things that’s she’s normally limited on: like endless snacks and of course, a child’s ultimate defiance! A thing that totally made her close to being a grown up…

Staying up past her bedtime.

However, your darling pumpkin, not being used to doing that, quickly succumbed to slumber just after the first movie ended, though it might be because her overexcitement for the whole ordeal exhausted her more than usual.

And while it wasn’t necessarily in your plans, the sight of her breathing peacefully underneath the warm covers made you smile, the natural response to a successful, fun night.

“She’s completely knocked out, isn’t she?” Mariya, who came in to check on you before eventually staying around after Naomi begged her to, noted. You giggle.

“Yeah, my poor baby, but sometimes it seems she’s unable to stop, you know?” you jest, gently caressing Naomi’s tummy. “She’s growing so fast; I wish she would stay small a little longer…”

“I think it might be time for the second one.” Mariya teases, you blush.

“Oh, shut up…” you murmur, she laughs.

“You’re not denying it.”

“I’ve thought about it, but… well, Naoya and I rarely have time to ourselves now that he’s of a higher rank, so I don’t know how that’s going to happen.” You lament.

“Hmmm… but it seems to me you always make the best out of it, don’t you? Naoya always leaves the estate with a smile that implies satisfaction, after all.” you turn bright red.

“Mariya!”

“I’m just teasing you, Y/N.” She smiles, you laugh along. “But now that we’re talking about it… I guess it doesn’t hurt to say that Naomi-chan sometimes asks me if she’s ever going to have a little brother or sister to play with.”

“Really?” you breathed, she nods.

“Yeah; it’s not frequent but, you know, she has her moments.” Mariya recounts, carefully one of Naomi’s hair locks behind her ear. Such a beautiful angel, she wonders if she’ll ever have her own.

“I’d like a boy.” You confess. “To have a set, as many say. Can you imagine? Another baby that looks just like Naoya! Though whatever we end up having is fine by me, really. To have a family is a blessing by itself.”

“And Naoya? Has he told you what he would like?”

“No, but I’m sure he’d like another girl, no matter how much he tries to deny it.” Because you’ve seen it through how gentle and doting he is with your baby.

How he’s always asking for her every time he’s away, not a single second is she out his mind… and with how Naomi calls for him too, constantly asking you if her papa is to return soon, because even to her videocalls and gifts are not enough to ease her unbearable yearning.

Oh, how you miss him.

Thankfully, your pleads would no longer continue unattended when a servant suddenly knocks on your door to brief you of the event you’ve been eagerly waiting for; immediately glancing at Mariya who gives you an encouraging nod in return, as if letting you know Naomi will be ok, before standing up and heading towards the exit.

To the arms of your melancholic husband whose face lights up as soon as his eyes land on you. A homesick man that was glad to finally be back home.

“Naoya! Oh, Naoya, you’re back.” You breathe, quick to embrace him and press your face against his chest, hiding your tears between his clothes.

Normally, he would’ve teased you for your reaction, make his best to cheer you up, but in the wake of months of absence, all Naoya could do is take your presence even deeper into his soul, hoping that he wouldn’t succumb to his own tears either as he tries to imprint your warmth, your scent, your love into his body to never forget.

“I missed you.” You confess, Naoya kisses the top of your head. “I can’t believe you’re here! It—it almost seems like a dream…!”

“I know. I can’t believe I’m here either, after so long…” Naoya responds, hugging you tighter. “But I am, and I missed you too, so much.”

“Please tell me you’re not leaving soon; you just came back.” You plead, looking up to him with that teary, dreadful look that always made his heart tighten.

More so if he knows he’s to disappoint you.

“I…Y/N—”

“No, you’re right. We don’t have to talk about that right now.” You shake your head, putting aside the sour thought of his departure for another time. Right now… “All that it matters is that you’re home. With us. With me.”

“Where’s Naomi? I wish to see her, if it’s not too late of course.” Naoya smiles, you giggle.

“Actually, there was something I was planning to do for you that involved her, but I think I failed.”

“Let me guess, you tried keeping her awake to see me?” He rightfully assesses, you nod.

“Yeah, I planned a whole slumber party to do so, but, well, you know how our baby is. She gets too excited and then, she passes out!”

Naoya laughs, his heart warming up at these small moments he missed dearly. Thankfully, he’s now able to partake in them once more.

“But she’ll still be excited to see you in the morning nonetheless.” You add before grabbing his hand and guiding him to your shared bedroom, where your precious angel slept. “Come now, I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer!”

And it takes great effort for Naoya to not cry at the sight of his baby girl soundly sleeping in his bed, though he is unable to resist joining her, carefully laying by her side as you joined him soon after, resting your face on his chest, where home is.

“You did her nails?” He notes at her small, clenched fist. Naoya wishes to hold it but decides against it in fear of waking her up.

“Yeah, do you like them?” you smile. “I did mine too—we can do yours later if you’d like.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Naoya smirks.

“I wholeheartedly believe you’d look good with black nails.” You affirm.

“No better than inside you.”

“Naoya!” you playfully smack him, a noise that inadvertently wakes up your small dumpling up.

“Ma…ma?” Naomi’s soft voice makes you and Naoya’s breath hitch to their throat, keeping still as she seems to appear unaware of her papa’s presence, as seen in the following question. “Is papa home yet…?”

To know that her first waking thought is to wonder about her father makes your heart soar, and unable to keep her in the dark any longer, you rush to give her the good news—

Only for Naoya to stop you, planning instead to unveil the surprise tomorrow morning, just when all the gifts he got for her were set to arrive.

A splendid moment to signify his official return he wishes to conduct perfectly, happy to finally be back home, in the presence of his two beloved.

His loving family Naoya would do anything in the world to protect.

[doujinshigirlai]

Closer than ever <3

It's been a while 😭🫶🏻✨

Sypnosis:

Pairing: ot7!enhypen x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, acquaintances to lovers

Warnings: none!!!

Enjoy my pookies 🫶🏻✨💞

⋋⁠✿Lee Heeseung✿⁠⋌ You’re standing by the vending machine in the office break room, staring blankly at the rows of snacks, your mind too cluttered to decide on anything. The soft hum of the machine is drowned out by the sound of a familiar voice behind you.

“You’ve been eyeing that granola bar for the last two minutes. Is it really that good?”

You turn around to see Heeseung, his signature playful grin already tugging at his lips. You’ve known him for a few months now—he joined your department not long ago. Though your conversations have mostly been surface-level, there’s something about his relaxed confidence that always gets under your skin.

“It’s not about the granola bar,” you reply with a sigh, pressing the button for a random snack. “I’m just... distracted.”

Heeseung tilts his head, his eyes softening. “Work stress?”

“Among other things,” you admit, clutching the snack as if it’s a lifeline. You’re not sure why, but you feel a strange urge to confide in him, even though you’ve barely scratched the surface of who he is.

“Here,” he says, leaning against the vending machine. “I’ll trade you five minutes of bad jokes for a smile. Deal?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “You really think your jokes are that good?”

He smirks. “I think I can make you laugh. And I’m not leaving until I do.”

True to his word, Heeseung starts spouting the cheesiest, most ridiculous puns you’ve ever heard. It’s impossible not to crack a smile, and by the end of his impromptu comedy routine, you’re laughing so hard you nearly forget why you were stressed in the first place.

“See?” he says, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. “Mission accomplished.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest lingers. “Fine, I’ll admit it. You’re not the worst company.”

“Wow,” he teases, pretending to clutch his heart. “The highest praise I’ve ever received.”

From that day on, Heeseung seems to pop up everywhere—whether it’s during lunch breaks or late nights at the office. The more you talk, the more you realize how easy it is to be around him. He has this uncanny ability to make you forget your worries, to make you feel seen.

One evening, after yet another long day, he walks you to your car. The cool breeze carries the faint scent of his cologne, and for a moment, the world feels a little less heavy.

“You know,” he says softly, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I never thought I’d look forward to work so much... until I met you.”

You freeze, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. His usual teasing tone is gone, replaced by something deeper, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Heeseung—”

“I mean it,” he interrupts, his gaze meeting yours. “You make everything better. And I think... I think I want to be the person who does that for you, too.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. For once, you’re at a loss for words, but the way he looks at you—with so much hope and vulnerability—tells you all you need to know.

So you take a step closer, letting your walls crumble just a little. “You already do.”

His smile is slow, genuine, and when he takes your hand in his, it feels like the start of something you never saw coming—but everything you’ve been waiting for.

Rest of the members under the cut ✨✨✨

⋋⁠✿Park Jongseong✿⁠⋌ It starts on an ordinary Tuesday, with you standing in line at the campus coffee shop. The line is slow, and the cold draft from the door doesn’t help your mood. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, checking the time. You’re already running late.

“I’d suggest the caramel latte,” a smooth voice says behind you. You turn to see Jay, his dark eyes studying the menu as if he hasn’t memorized it already.

You know him in passing—a friend of a friend, someone who’s always in the background of your social circle but never quite in your orbit. He’s polite, even charming, but he’s always been... distant.

“I don’t think caramel’s going to fix my morning,” you reply with a sigh, crossing your arms.

Jay glances down at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. “No, but caffeine might.”

The barista finally calls your turn, and as you step up to order, Jay leans casually against the counter beside you. You don’t know why, but his presence is oddly calming.

“You’re not going to cut me in line, are you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Relax,” he says, his tone amused. “I’m just here to keep you company.”

You scoff but can’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. After you order, Jay steps forward, surprising you by paying for your drink before you can protest.

“Jay—”

“Consider it my good deed of the day,” he says, his smirk softening into something almost kind. “You look like you could use one.”

You don’t have time to argue, nor do you have time to dwell on it. But from that day on, Jay seems to be everywhere. In the library when you’re cramming for exams. At the park when you’re trying to clear your head. Always there with a witty remark or a quiet offer of help.

At first, it’s annoying. Then it’s comforting. And somewhere along the way, you stop questioning it.

One night, after an exhausting week, you find yourself sitting with Jay on a park bench, sipping on hot cocoa he insisted you needed. The stars are out, the air crisp, and you can’t remember the last time you felt this... at peace.

“You’re different than I thought,” you admit, breaking the silence.

Jay raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What’d you think I was like?”

“Arrogant. Unapproachable. Too perfect to be real.”

He laughs, a low, rich sound that makes your chest tighten. “And now?”

You shrug, looking away. “Still too perfect, but... I guess I was wrong about the rest.”

When you glance back, Jay is watching you intently, his expression unreadable.

“You don’t realize how often I’ve thought the same about you,” he says quietly.

Your breath catches. “What do you mean?”

He leans closer, the space between you shrinking. His gaze flickers to your lips for just a moment before returning to your eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to get closer to you. And I’m tired of waiting.”

Before you can process his words, he closes the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so gentle it feels like a question. Your heart races, your hands instinctively gripping the edges of your coat, but when you feel the warmth of his hand against your cheek, the world around you fades.

It’s Jay who pulls back first, his breath mingling with yours in the cool night air. “Too perfect now?” he murmurs, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No. Just... perfect enough.”

And as he takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, you realize you don’t need coffee, or cocoa, or anything else to fix your day. Because for the first time in a long time, everything feels exactly as it should.

⋋⁠✿Sim Jaeyun✿⁠⋌ The late summer evening breeze sweeps through the campus courtyard as you balance a stack of books in your arms, cursing yourself for not grabbing a bag. You’re halfway across when a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

“Need some help there?”

You turn to see Jake, his golden hair catching the fading sunlight. He’s leaning casually against a nearby bench, his ever-present hoodie slung over one shoulder. You know Jake well enough to say hello in passing—your mutual friends ensure that your paths cross more often than not—but your interactions have always been polite, nothing more.

“I’ve got it,” you reply, adjusting the books.

Jake raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “You sure about that?”

Before you can respond, he’s already stepping forward, taking the top half of the stack from your arms. His fingers graze yours briefly, and the contact sends a jolt through you that you quickly dismiss.

“Really, I was fine,” you insist, trailing after him as he starts walking toward the library.

“Clearly,” he teases, glancing over his shoulder. “You looked totally at ease, struggling not to drop an entire semester’s worth of reading.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no bite to it. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Didn’t need to,” Jake replies smoothly.

The two of you walk in silence for a moment, the tension between you both oddly palpable. It’s not the first time Jake’s gone out of his way to help you, but something about this moment feels different—like the weight of unspoken words is pressing down on the air around you.

When you reach the library, Jake sets the books down on a nearby table, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “There. Crisis averted.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

Jake doesn’t move, his eyes studying you like he’s debating something. Finally, he takes a step closer, the playfulness in his expression replaced by something more serious.

“You know,” he begins, his voice lower now, “you’re really bad at asking for help.”

You cross your arms, trying to mask the way your heart is suddenly racing. “I don’t see why that’s any of your business.”

“It’s my business,” Jake says, his tone firmer now, “because I care about you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unmistakable. Your breath catches, and you’re not sure if it’s the way he’s looking at you—like he’s been holding this in for far too long—or the fact that your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest.

“Jake...” you start, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

“No, let me say this,” he insists, his voice softening. “I know we’re not close. I know I’m just that guy you see in passing, the one who cracks jokes and never seems to take anything seriously. But with you... it’s different. You make me want to be better. You make me feel like I can be more.”

You’re frozen in place, your mind racing as you try to process the sheer weight of his confession.

“I’ve been trying to tell myself I’m fine just watching from a distance,” he continues, his voice almost breaking.

“But I’m not. I’m not fine, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”

The tension between you is electric, the air so thick with emotion that it’s almost suffocating. Jake takes another step closer, his hand hovering near yours, as if he’s waiting for permission to close the gap.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, his eyes searching yours. “I just... I needed you to know.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. “Jake, I—”

But before you can finish, the librarian’s voice cuts through the air. “Excuse me, but this is a quiet zone.”

The moment shatters, and Jake pulls back slightly, his lips curving into a sheepish smile. “Guess we’re causing a scene,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You shake your head, a small laugh escaping despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “Yeah, we are.”

Jake looks at you for a long moment, his eyes still filled with unspoken words. “I meant what I said,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear. Then, with one last lingering glance, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with your heart in your throat and your mind spinning.

And as you watch him disappear into the stacks, you realize that whatever this is—whatever it could be—you’re not ready to let it slip through your fingers.

⋋⁠✿Park Sunghoon⁠✿⁠⋌ It’s late, and the campus quad is eerily quiet except for the sound of your boots crunching against the frosty grass. You pull your coat tighter around yourself, regretting your decision to stay in the library until closing. The dim glow of the streetlights casts long shadows, and you quicken your pace.

"Walking alone this late?” a familiar voice calls out from behind you.

You turn sharply, heart skipping a beat, only to see Sunghoon leaning casually against a nearby lamppost. His breath forms a faint mist in the cold air, and his hands are shoved into the pockets of his black coat.

“Sunghoon?” you say, your voice tinged with surprise.

He straightens up, falling into step beside you. “Relax. It’s just me.”

You’ve known Sunghoon for a while now, mostly through shared classes and mutual friends. He’s always been polite, reserved even—though his quiet confidence and striking looks have earned him more than a few admirers. Still, your interactions have always been brief, nothing that would explain why he’s here now.

“What are you doing out so late?” you ask, glancing at him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he counters, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s dangerous to walk around alone at night?".

You roll your eyes. “I can take care of myself, thanks.”

“Maybe,” he says, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “But now you don’t have to.”

The two of you walk in silence for a while, the tension between you humming like a live wire. There’s something about the way Sunghoon moves—so self-assured yet unassuming—that makes it hard to look away.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” you say after a while.

“Do what?”

“Play the hero,” you reply, glancing at him.

He stops walking, and you’re forced to stop too, turning to face him. His expression is unreadable, but his dark eyes hold yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

“You think I’m doing this to play the hero?” he asks, his voice low, almost dangerous.

You hesitate, suddenly unsure of yourself. “I don’t know. Aren’t you?”

Sunghoon takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. His presence is overwhelming, and you find yourself rooted to the spot.

“I’m here,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, “because I wanted to see you. Because every time I see you, it’s harder to walk away. And I’m done pretending that it’s not.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave.

“Sunghoon...” you start, but he shakes his head, silencing you.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to your lips before returning to your eyes. “If this isn’t what you want, tell me, and I’ll walk away.”

You don’t say anything, your mind racing, your heart pounding. And then, instead of speaking, you step closer, bridging the gap between you.

That’s all the confirmation he needs. Sunghoon leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s both soft and electrifying, like the first rush of a winter storm. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch warm against your chilled skin, and for a moment, the rest of the world ceases to exist.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the cold night air.

You smile, your heart still racing. “What took you so long?”

Sunghoon chuckles softly, his eyes glinting with a mixture of relief and something deeper. “I guess I needed to know you wouldn’t push me away.”

You shake your head, your smile widening. “Not a chance.”

And as the two of you stand there under the dim streetlight, the frost on the grass glittering around you, it feels like the start of something neither of you can—or want to—turn back from.

⋋⁠✿Kim Sunoo⁠✿⁠⋌ The campus is quiet, the kind of stillness that feels unnatural. You’ve been in the library for hours, buried in notes and textbooks, your mind drifting in and out of focus. It’s been a long day, and you’re ready to head home, but as you step out of the building into the evening chill, you’re met with an unexpected sight—Sunoo, sitting on a bench under the dim light of a streetlamp, his eyes trained on the starless sky.

You stop in your tracks, unsure if you should interrupt him. You’ve never been particularly close, and yet, for some reason, you always find yourself caught in his orbit. He’s always been kind, that easy smile never far from his lips, but there’s something about him that feels distant—a warmth that’s almost unreachable.

He notices you standing there, and his expression shifts, that usual playful grin softening.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you ask, your voice breaking the silence.

Sunoo looks up, his gaze locking with yours. “More like couldn’t stop thinking,” he replies, his voice quieter than usual.

You hesitate, moving closer to the bench. “About what?”

Sunoo shifts to make room, patting the spot next to him. You sit down, careful not to let your shoulder brush his, though it feels almost impossible not to.

“It’s... complicated,” he says after a long pause, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve.

You turn to face him, the tension between you thickening. You know he’s been quieter lately, as if something is weighing on his mind. There’s a softness to him now, an unspoken vulnerability that draws you in even more.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready,” you offer gently.

Sunoo smiles faintly, shaking his head. “No, I think... I think it’s time I said it.”

You wait, your heart beginning to race as he looks down, as if trying to find the right words. His usual confidence is replaced by uncertainty, and it’s unsettling to see him like this.

“I’ve been holding back,” he starts slowly, “because I didn’t want to make things complicated. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You swallow, unsure if you want to hear what’s coming next. The air feels charged, like something big is about to happen, but you're unsure if you're ready to face it.

“I think I’ve liked you for longer than I realized,” Sunoo confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I was scared. Scared of what it would mean. Scared of ruining whatever we have.”

Your breath hitches, the words sinking in deeper than you expected. You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. It’s almost too much to process. Sunoo, always the cheerful and outgoing one, the guy who can make anyone laugh, is standing there—vulnerable and open in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he says, looking at you earnestly. “I just... needed you to know.”

The weight of his confession presses down on you, and you can feel the tension between you like a palpable force. His eyes are wide, searching yours for a reaction, and for the first time, you realize how much you’ve been holding back as well.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

Sunoo nods, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed to tell you.”

You both sit in silence, the night growing colder around you, but you don’t move. The quiet between you now feels comfortable, as though you’ve just crossed an invisible line that neither of you can go back from.

Finally, Sunoo stands up, stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll see you around,” he says, his usual carefree tone returning, but there’s still a tenderness in his eyes.

You nod, watching him walk away, your heart a tangled mess of emotions. But as the silence settles in once more, you realize that his confession has changed something between you. It’s not just the words; it’s the way you feel the truth of them, how everything suddenly feels clearer, even if it’s still uncertain "I like you too!!!", you shout. He turns, grinning widely and genuinely.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s the beginning of something that neither of you are ready to define yet—but both of you know will be impossible to forget.

⋋⁠✿Yang Jungwon⁠✿⁠⋌ The early morning sun casts a soft golden light across the campus as you step out of the dorm, a cup of coffee in hand to start your day. The campus is quieter than usual, the early risers having already started their routines, and the air is crisp with the promise of a new day.

As you make your way toward the main building, you spot Jungwon sitting on one of the benches by the fountain. The sunlight catches in his hair, giving him an almost ethereal glow, and for a moment, he seems completely absorbed in the world around him. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jacket, and his gaze is focused on the morning sky, his features soft and contemplative.

You pause for a moment, unsure if you should interrupt his peace, but then you find yourself walking toward him anyway.

"Jungwon?" You call out, voice hesitant

He blinks, looking up with a slight surprise before his lips curl into a small, genuine smile. “Hey, you’re up early,” he says, his voice still carrying the remnants of sleepiness but also warmth.

You offer a small smile in return, shrugging. “Yeah, I’ve got a busy day ahead. I thought I’d grab some coffee before the rush.”

“Smart choice,” he says, patting the space beside him on the bench. “Want to sit for a bit?”

You sit down beside him, wrapping your hands around the warmth of your coffee cup. There’s a calmness in the air now, the world slowly waking up around you. And for a moment, you simply sit in silence, the sound of birds chirping and the faint rustle of leaves the only noise.

“You’ve been quiet this morning,” you remark, glancing at Jungwon, who’s still staring off into the distance.

He shifts slightly, as if he’s just now realizing how still he’s been. “I guess I’ve just been thinking a lot,” he admits, his voice softer than usual.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “About what?”

Jungwon’s gaze drifts to the ground for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his jacket. There’s a hesitation there, a vulnerability in his posture that you don’t often see.

“It’s... about us,” he says quietly, his voice carrying an honesty that you’re not used to hearing from him.

Your heart skips a beat at his words. “Us?”

He turns his head slightly to face you, his eyes catching yours. “Yeah,” he says, his voice low. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot more than I should, probably. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything, but... I think it’s time I do.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Jungwon, who’s always been so composed and in control, now seems different. There’s a vulnerability to him now that makes your heart race.

"I don’t want to make things complicated,” he continues, his voice almost a whisper. “But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way. I think about you all the time, and I just... I need you to know that.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. Jungwon has always been the calm and collected one, the friend who makes everyone feel at ease. But this side of him, the side that’s unsure and uncertain, catches you off guard.

You turn to face him, the warmth of your coffee forgotten in your hands. “Jungwon, I—”

Before you can finish, he’s already leaning in, his eyes searching yours for a hint of whether you’re okay with this. There’s no hesitation this time, no second-guessing. Jungwon closes the gap between you, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. It’s soft, barely there, but it holds so much meaning. A confession in the quiet of the morning, the warmth of his lips lingering even after the kiss is over.

When he pulls back, there’s a faint blush on his cheeks, and he looks at you with wide, uncertain eyes. “I hope that wasn’t too much,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s afraid of pushing you away.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing in your chest, and smile softly. “No, it wasn’t. It’s just... I’ve been thinking about you too.”

His expression softens, a genuine smile slowly spreading across his face. “Really?” he asks, his voice filled with quiet relief.

You nod, feeling the warmth spreading through your chest. “Really.”

Jungwon lets out a breath of relief, his smile widening. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but this is definitely better than I thought.”

You laugh softly, feeling the weight of the tension between you ease. “I think we’ve both been a little unsure of how to handle this, huh?”

“Yeah,” he admits, chuckling lightly. “But I’m glad it’s out there now.”

And as the two of you sit together on the bench, the sun rises higher in the sky, you both realize that whatever comes next, it’s the start of something new—something neither of you were expecting, but both of you are willing to embrace.

⋋⁠✿Nishimura Riki✿⁠⋌ The morning sun spills through the windows of the campus café as you sit by the large glass wall, the warmth of the light casting a soft glow over your book and coffee. You’ve been coming here a lot lately, needing a quiet escape from the chaos of classes and the constant buzz of campus life.

Today, however, something feels different. You glance up from your book as the door chimes open, and in walks Niki. His usual carefree energy is a little more subdued today, and the way his eyes scan the room before locking on you is enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Niki doesn’t usually come to this café in the mornings; he’s more of an afternoon kind of person, where his energy seems boundless. But today, he steps toward your table, hesitating for a moment, like he’s trying to decide whether to say something.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice quieter than usual. You notice the way his eyes avoid yours for a split second, a hint of uncertainty in his usually confident demeanor.

“Of course,” you reply, your heart inexplicably racing. You shift your things aside to make room for him, and he sits across from you, his usual grin missing, replaced by a soft, thoughtful expression.

For a few moments, there’s an awkward silence between you. You’re used to Niki being playful, always cracking jokes, always full of energy, but today, he seems almost... hesitant.

“You okay?” you ask, unable to ignore the change in his vibe.

He looks up at you, his lips curling slightly, but it’s not his usual carefree smile. It’s almost as if he’s considering something deeply before he answers. “Yeah, just thinking about stuff.”

“Stuff?” you raise an eyebrow. “What kind of stuff?”

He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze dropping to the table as he seems to lose himself in thought again. “Just... everything, I guess. People. Life.” His voice is softer now, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “And you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you can feel the shift in the air. Niki doesn’t usually speak like this, especially about you.

“Me?” you repeat, trying to keep your voice steady, but the way he says it makes your heart race even faster.

He nods, his gaze lifting to meet yours again. This time, it feels like he’s looking at you in a way that’s different—more intense, more meaningful. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot recently. About how you’re always there, and how I’ve always been able to talk to you. You’re... different, you know? I think I’ve started feeling more than just the friendship thing.”

Your stomach flips, and your words get caught in your throat. You’ve always had a soft spot for Niki—his charm, his humor, his way of making everything feel effortless. But this... this confession feels like it’s pulling you into something much deeper than you expected.

“You’re telling me this now?” you ask, trying to keep your voice light, but your heart is pounding in your chest.

Niki looks at you for a long moment, as if he’s debating something in his mind. Then, he leans forward slightly, his hands folding on the table. His usual playful demeanor is gone, replaced by something more raw, more vulnerable.

“I know I’ve always acted like I was the one who had it all figured out,” he says, his voice quiet, but his eyes focused on you. “But the truth is... I’ve been a little scared.”

“Scared?” You lean forward, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “Scared of what?”

“Scared of how much you mean to me,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Scared of how I might mess things up. I don’t want to ruin what we have, but I can’t ignore it anymore.”

The air is thick with tension now. You feel your heart beat faster, not from fear, but from something else—something electric.

“Niki, I—”

But before you can finish your sentence, he reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. The warmth of his touch is enough to make your pulse spike, and your words falter as you meet his gaze.

“I don’t want to hide this anymore,” he says, his voice steady but full of the emotion he’s been holding back. “I like you. More than just as a friend. And I had to tell you, even if it’s scary.”

You sit there for a moment, the world around you seeming to slow down. Niki, the guy who’s always been the center of attention, always so full of life, is now sitting in front of you, vulnerable and open in a way you’ve never seen before.

And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been feeling the same way.

You don’t need words anymore. Without thinking, you reach for his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. It’s simple, but it feels like everything you’ve been too scared to say is being communicated in this single, quiet touch.

Niki’s eyes soften, and a slow, genuine smile spreads across his face. “I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same,” he admits, his voice a little breathless.

You smile, squeezing his hand gently. “I think we’ve both been scared of the same thing.”

And as you sit there, hands locked together, the morning light shining through the window, you realize that this is the start of something new. Something that doesn’t need words, but something you’re both willing to explore together.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED POOKIESSSS 💞✨💞

Taglist: @fangirlingobsessed @ilovebtsomgie @ayakananodesu @leftx1imaginesrenji-yanagirebel @axxftergl0w @astro-des @han-doolsetnet @ssungiverb @itsanaaa22 @bonsai-maze @graciiwestlake @lezleeferguson-120 @sovlidago @callistomk @ottokenta @ikeulove @fredneo17 @dprvivi @emisoftly @puppymyunjae @gven-takn @whitediamond778 @leipforggy

[creatureofthe-creek]

Heyo!!

I love your moodboard sm X3

Could I get a snow leopard with comfy themes?

❄️🌨️🫧||★•.*+*.•⇔•.*+*.•★||🫧🌨️❄️

❄️🌨️🫧||★•.*+*.•⇔•.*+*.•★||🫧🌨️❄️

@imaecho

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 12, day 26

Flick has a butt skirt! And shoes! And forearm sleeves! :D He was very handsome when he was nakey but he's even more handsome now that his posterior has proper adornment lol

[ramenwithbroccoli]

hello dear mutual! i noticed that you forgot to put tags on that wonderful post of yours - do not fret, i know exactly what to do in this situtation! *posts an entire essay three times the size of the post in your tags*

[bumblingbabooshka]

T’Nia [Sek’s Wife] and the EMH. 

[aeide-thea]

dipping my toe into fandom discourse here, which is never a great idea, but—i really am baffled by the contingent of fans who apparently want AO3 to not only denounce but ban AI-generated works, as if there were any reliable way to distinguish between mediocre writing produced by a human and mediocre writing produced by an AI…?

[mbat]

dude it is way too early for this, someone just told me to kill myself over something i literally dont know anything about

[awearywritersworld]

megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader

tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.

ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.

gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"

gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"

gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"

honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?

he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?

apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.

he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.

while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.

his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.

and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.

he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—

"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.

while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"

oh.

gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.

megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.

"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."

gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.

"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.

your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.

"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"

"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.

the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.

you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.

he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."

this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.

gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.

"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"

just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.

"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"

nice.

"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.

you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.

megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"

"shut it, kid."

[makoodles]

ミi hear you like magic? i've got a wand and a rabbit!

part one | part two

🍓 pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, size kink, virgin!reader, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, some mild second-hand embarrassment perhaps, sex toys, edging, failed masturbation attempts, ghost takes your virginity and also maybe ruins you for literally anybody else ever again

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

The ceiling over your head is drab grey and water-stained, the old paint peeling away in strips. It’s an ugly sight, but you barely see it; you’re too busy trying to catch your breath.

The sheets beneath you are uncomfortably damp with your sweat, but you don’t have the energy to roll over just yet. You feel hot and itchy with frustration, and you scowl up at the ceiling above you as your fingers curl into fists. But even though you feel like laying in your now grubby-bedding for the rest of the evening, you can’t let yourself wallow. There’s going to be a knock on your door any minute, and this is not a position you want to be found in.

With an irritable groan, you haul yourself off the bed and to your feet. Your muscles ache and you feel too warm, but you reach for your clothes anyway. The worn cotton of your shirt feels scratchy against your skin, but maybe that’s just because you’re still over-sensitive and irritable.

You can never quite bear to look at the aftermath of what you’d been doing, so you avert your eyes as you gather up the bright silicone and plastic devices littering your mattress. It’s embarrassing now that the adrenaline has worn off and disappointment is beginning to set in, so you end up gathering them all up more roughly than necessary.

The term ‘toy’ seems incongruous to you. It sounds too childish, too immature. It makes you sound like a stupid kid, as though you aren’t a young adult past twenty fumbling your way through sexual self-exploration. It’s embarrassing, and much more frustrating than you ever would have predicted – despite all of your clumsy, desperate attempts at pleasuring yourself, you’ve never quite managed to reach that peak of pleasure you’ve heard other people talking about.

You grumble quietly to yourself as you try to wipe away the sticky lube that’s still coating your thighs. Your muscles are a little achy from all the tensing you’d been doing trying to come with that stupid vibrator, not even accompanied by the satisfaction you had been hoping for.

It’s not as though you’ve never gotten the opportunity to experiment with others; you’re not unforgivably ugly, you don’t think you have a bad personality, and for the past few years you’ve been surrounded by military men that certainly aren’t known for being picky. And it certainly isn’t like you haven’t received your fair share of offers. 

It just never seemed right. You’re not overly concerned about ‘saving’ your virginity or anything like that; it’s just that putting yourself into such a vulnerable position is scary. You’re aware of the irony, of course, that you’d trust many of these people with saving your ass from catching a bullet in the field, but allowing someone to see you so intimately feels like a step too far.

You’re still sweaty and flustered and naked when a knock sounds from your door, and you freeze. The doorknob turns, but doesn’t open; in that moment, you’re deliriously grateful that you had turned the lock – it’s something that you’ve forgotten to do on far too many occasions.

“Lass, you in there?” Oh god, it’s Soap. 

Cursing quietly to yourself, you jolt into action. Your pants are crumpled at the bottom of your bed where you had shed them, and you hurriedly gather them up and struggle your way back into them.

“Gimme a minute!” You yell, praying he doesn’t notice the somewhat frantic edge to your voice.

You stagger slightly as you worm your way into your pants, and then lunge to grab the stupid dildo you’d just been trying to use. You feel your skin prickle with humiliation as you try to force the stupidly large silicone cock into your already full underwear drawer, jamming it shut roughly to hide it from sight. You don’t want to even imagine what Soap might have to say if he were to see what you had been doing; you think you might have to go full deserter mode and abscond into the wilderness.

“Did ye forget about drinks?” Soap’s drawl carries through the thickness of the door. He doesn’t sound even slightly put out – if anything, he sounds a little amused.

You pause, close your eyes, sigh. Fuck. You had not, in fact, forgotten about drinks, you just thought you had more time.

“No, I– just a minute!” You yell back, shoving your shoes on and trying to fix your hair.

You had completely lost track of time, and now you don’t even have time to rinse your sweat-damp skin off – you’re going to have to sit through drinks with the squad all grimy, like a physical reminder of what you had been up to for the last two hours.

When you finally unlock the door and wrench it open, Soap is standing on the other side tapping a staccato rhythm on his thighs with his open palms. He’s dressed casually in just blue jeans and a black muscle shirt, and he gives you a look of semi-disbelief.

“What the hell were you—”

“Gym.” You interrupt, landing on the only explanation you can think of for your sweaty skin and messy hair.

Soap blinks, but apparently decides it’s not worth the effort to continue that line of conversation. He just shrugs, then turns and starts making his way down the hall, slowing his pace for you to catch up.

You exhale; Soap can be like a bloodhound when he suspects there’s gossip to be had, and you’re relieved to have dodged a round of his relentless questioning. You suppose he can be surprisingly tactful sometimes, and he knows you well enough not to press you. Or, perhaps it’s because you come across as such a non-sexual being that  it doesn’t even occur to him that there may be another explanation.

There’s an unofficial tradition that when the squad is on base, everyone gathers in the sparsely decorated recreation room for drinks and card games on Thursday evenings. It usually makes for an enjoyable night; Gaz and Soap can always be trusted to supply whatever bottles of alcohol they’ve managed to get their grubby little hands on, and it’s always amusing to watch Captain Price get increasingly more irate as Soap pretends not to understand the rules of whatever card game they’re playing. The whole illicitness of having contraband on base only makes the whole thing more exciting; the CO’s on base often turn a blind eye to the activity, so long as it’s kept under control.

But tonight, you’re distracted.

The others had offered a bit of good-natured ribbing when you and Soap had turned up late, but before long you’re all settled in a loose circle on the poorly-stuffed couches in the corner of the room. Gaz has already unstoppered a bottle of bourbon, and is attempting to convince a visibly unimpressed Price to play a game of Kings with them. You curl up on one of the worn-out couches opposite them, watching with a small if slightly stiff smile.

The atmosphere is relaxed and pleasant, almost enough to make you forget about the irritating buzz of unfulfilled arousal under your skin. You shift, trying to keep your movements small, subtle, to avoid the notice of your team. Your denim jeans are nowhere near as comfortable as usual, and you wonder briefly if you should have simply worn your cargo pants just to avoid the harsh friction of the denim.

You sit there feeling… unmoored. You fidget, drink your smooth bourbon in sips in an attempt to avoid wincing, and try not to look as obviously out of place as you feel. It’s been like this, recently. Joining the task force has been an accomplishment for you, a source of immense pride – you’re the youngest member (just narrowly beating Gaz for the title) and a woman to boot, and though the squad has never treated you any differently it’s hard to kick the belief that you have something to prove. 

You engage in conversations the best you can, but you’re distracted and you know it must be obvious. Your preoccupation gets you a couple of furrowed brows and glances, but there seems to be an unspoken agreement to give you some space.

You don’t even realise the extent of your distraction until a big body settles down on the loveseat next to you, and you jolt. True to his name, Ghost had appeared near silently, escaping your notice until he lowers himself down to sit next to you.

And damn, you forget how big he is sometimes. It’s an average sized loveseat, but the lieutenant takes up over half of it. He’s obviously being mindful not to consciously crush you, but he’s not being overly cautious when it comes to avoiding touching you. He’s dressed unusually casually, and his thick, muscled thigh is wrapped in blue denim as it presses carelessly against yours. 

“You alright?” He asks, his voice low and smooth as he nudges your knee with one of his big knuckles.

You haven’t been a member of the task force for long, but you would know Simon Riley by his hands alone, by the earthy salt-spice in your nose as he leans a little closer to peer at your face. You tilt your head up, unable to stop the small reflexive smile that breaks over your face at the sight of him.

“Yeah.” You breathe, hurriedly straightening up where you’re sitting. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

His sudden proximity isn’t doing your current state any favours, and you take a quick sip of your drink in an effort to collect yourself. It’s taking a herculean effort not to stare at the way his biceps are bulging against the straining material of his black cotton t-shirt.

“What’re you thinking about?” Ghost asks as he stretches out his legs with a tired groan. The sound is gruff and gravelly, and you feel blood rush uncomfortably to your cheeks. 

“Nothing.” You say quickly.

He doesn’t believe you, that much is obvious, but Ghost never pushes and he rarely speaks more than he has to. He just gives you a glance, brief and knowing and far more penetrating than it should be, before turning his head back so he can watch the boys playing their card game. He’s holding a crystal tumbler filled with dark amber liquid, but he hasn’t yet pulled his mask up to drink from it.

Your eyes drop to the thick, pale scars that mar the backs of his hands. You trace the path of the scar tissue, eyes lingering around the thick knuckles and broad palms, the way that he holds the glass so casually confidently. He’s got nice hands, probably made all the more attractive by the fact that you hardly ever get to see them. Seeing Ghost without his usual long sleeves and gloves makes you feel like a Victorian pervert snatching stolen glances at a passing lady’s ankles.

A quiet snicker causes your eyes to dart back to his face, and you’re mortified to find that he’s caught you staring.

“What’s got you in such a mood?” He asks. Even through the mask you can tell that he’s smirking, though it doesn’t feel as though he’s making fun of you.

“Just one of those days, I guess.” You say without meeting his eyes.

It’s an evasion at best, but Ghost nods ponderously as though he’s giving this great thought. His stare is penetrating, those big brown eyes watching you as though he can see right through you. Maybe he can. You try not to get too caught up staring at his pale eyelashes, darkened by smears of eyeblack.

“Did something happen?” He asks. The question is casual enough, asked as he lazily swirls his whiskey around in his glass, but his gaze is sharp and assessing.

“No.” You sigh, finally looking properly at him.

It’s a little frustrating, but the squad has been like this with you from the start – protective. Your whole military career has consisted of you veritably clawing your way up through the ranks, and you’ve been surrounded by coarse, gruff men that have underestimated you all your life. 141 is different – they don’t baby you, but the way they treat you is unmistakably softer than how they typically treat each other. The concern can be touching, if a little tiring sometimes.

And maybe it’s because he’s your lieutenant, but Ghost’s attention has always been just this side of overwhelming. It feels like you’re pinned beneath his dark eyes, his gaze somehow sharpened as he watches you from beneath his more casual balaclava, the skull pattern printed on his jaw adding another layer of intimidation. But his shoulders are relaxed as he sits next to you on the small couch, settling the weight of his attention over you like a blanket.

You’ve always respected him, admired him. How could you not? He’s practically a living legend, his reputation larger than life, and he’s scary as fuck. But he’s also softer than you had expected, gentle when he needs to be. He still rides you hard in training, pushing you to your limits and taking no quarter, but you can’t begrudge that. Not when you know he’s working to keep you alive. Perhaps that’s how the attraction had first bloomed; once it started, it was hard to stifle.

Ghost hooks one finger into his balaclava and pulls it up just high enough to expose his mouth, and he presses his glass to his lips to take a sip of his drink. You struggle not to stare like a moron, but he makes it so difficult. His lips are full and pink, and there’s a rugged scar bisecting his top lip. His stubble is dark blond and short, and it doesn’t hide the various scars and marks that decorate his strong jawline. 

You almost jolt when he pulls the mask back down, hurriedly averting your eyes and forcing yourself to look out across the room. It’s not just the 141 that’s decided to take up in the rec room this evening; there are soldiers from other units littered all around the room, laughing and joking, playing lazy games of pool on the table in the corner and smoking. The smoke alarm has been jimmied off the ceiling and the window is open, and even Price is turning a temporary blind eye to the blatant disregard for regulations in favour of puffing on one of his cigars. 

Ghost shifts on the worn-out fabric of the couch, and lays an arm over the back of the headrest behind you. It’s a casual, thoughtless movement, but it ends up pushing his body slightly closer to you in a way that makes you feel as though you’re about to catch fire.

You cross your legs, but the seam of your jeans presses into your pussy in a way that sends a frisson of heat up your spine. You hurriedly uncross your legs, and attempt to school your expression into casual neutrality as you force yourself to tune back into the conversation.

“–ach, c’mon, Captain,” Soap is saying in a wheedling tone that he probably thinks is endearing. “One round of strip poker won’t kill ya–”

“No.” Price says in a voice like thunder, brooking no argument as thick cigar smoke pours from his nose. It gives the impression of an enraged bull.

Soap either is ignorant to the warning, or is choosing to wilfully ignore it. Judging by the sly gleam in his eyes, you can guess which. He turns to you then, and waggles his eyebrows.

“C’mon, lassie, you’ll play, won’t ya?” He asks with a grin that promises trouble. “I guarantee you’ll be a sight better than any o’ these louts.”

“Speak for yourself,” Gaz pipes up, already grinning. “I was looking forward to seeing the Captain in his jocks–”

Price promptly knocks his drink back, before pushing himself up to his feet with a grim groan. “Right. That’s enough of you lot for one night.”

Gaz and Soap break into peals of laughter, settling back into their seats as they watch their captain march away.

“Offer’s still open, love,” Soap says, still snickering when he looks over to you. “Wanna play?”

Ghost shifts, his wide thigh knocking into yours as his arm stretches behind your shoulders. He lets out a short exhale through his nose, but when you glance up at him you find him as stoic and hard to read as always.

You just roll your eyes. It’s not the first time that they’ve tried to rope you into strip poker, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. You can always trust Soap to start stripping his clothes off when he’s three drinks in, whether he’s playing a game or not, so it’s not surprising that he tries to involve other people in his bad decision making.

And it’s not a big deal, really. There’s been countless missions and operations that have ended up with all of you staying in uncomfortably close quarters with each other. You’ve seen them naked countless times, and the same with them for you. It’s never meant anything, and you know that Soap’s teasing is exactly that – you don’t think they’ve ever once looked at you through any sexual lens at all.

But even still, the joke flusters you more than it should.

“Think I’ll be joining Cap in going to bed, actually.” You say, clearing your throat and setting your glass down on the low table in front of the couch.

The playful booing from Soap doesn’t do much to change your mind, and you stick out your tongue at him and Gaz as you push yourself up from the couch. You try to ignore the loss of heat at your side when you move away from Ghost, though you can’t help but glance back at the lieutenant. He’s not looking at you, his gaze directed into his glass. You try not to feel disappointed about that.

You say your goodnights, and retreat from the rec room.

By the time you make it back to your dorm however, you’re already playing the conversation back over in your head and wondering if you had made the wrong decision.

Perhaps you should have just played the damn game. Despite your inexperience with all things sexual, you’re not actually all that shy about your body. On missions, you and the squad are often forced into tight quarters, and they've all seen you in various stages of undress before. It's hard to be self-conscious around a group of people that have seen you at your worst, whether that’s soaked in blood, unshowered, sleep-deprived, or injured.

But you were so keyed up from your earlier failed attempts at masturbation that the thought of being so physically exposed in front of your squad is mortifying. It feels as though your unresolved arousal is still simmering through your veins, turning your thoughts slow and soupy and stupid. 

It’s not so surprising. Your preferred method of dealing with stress is coming back to your private bunk and messing around with your vibrator until you’ve forgotten all of your problems. The problem is, you’ve never quite been able to reach that climax you’ve heard so many talk about.

It’s not for lack of trying, and it’s not as though you haven’t come close to that toe-curling finish you crave so much. But it’s like there’s some sort of block, something that always holds you back before you can go plummeting over that edge. Something that makes the buzzing pleasure dissipate before your eyes like smoke, leaving you worked up and so frustrated. It’s probably inevitable that all those ruined finishes have built up like sludge in your veins, leaving you slow and distracted and irritable.

You eye your underwear drawer thoughtfully as you perch on your bed, before reaching inside and drawing out the same dildo you had been using earlier. You wonder if it would be too much to try again tonight – the muscles in your calves still feel a little bit over-worked from training all day, and you have a feeling that straining in an attempt to reach an orgasm you’ll likely never attain will only make it worse.

But the thought of Ghost in that stupid tight cotton shirt stays firmly stuck in your mind, and that really makes the decision for you. Before you can think too much about it, you’re sliding your jeans off and climbing atop your mattress. The sheets are dirty anyway, after all. May as well have some fun before you change them.

You slide your panties off next, then kick them to the side. It’s difficult not to feel a little pathetic, but you push those feelings aside. So what if you have an embarrassing little crush on a superior officer? It’s not like that’s unusual within the military, and you’re quite certain that dealing with all that unresolved attraction like this is the most sensible thing you can do.

You fish out the bottle of lube you had been using earlier, and drizzle it liberally along the dildo’s length before setting it aside on the blanket. While you’ve used your dildo plenty of times, you still struggle to grow accustomed to the stretch of it. It’s a good dildo – a vibrating one in the rabbit style, designed to stimulate your g-spot and clit at the same time. It was damn expensive too, but it’s one luxury you’re willing to indulge in.

You close your eyes, slide it between your legs, and hit the power button. A low bzzz emanates from between your thighs; you jerk at the immediate barrage of pleasure, your abs tightening and your legs twitching apart, creating more room between them.

Your body is quick to react, sweat prickling under your armpits and your heart thudding quickly in your chest. You can feel electric pleasure coursing through you as you press it against your clit, your toes curling into your sheets.

You bring the vibrator lower, your clit throbbing a little at its sudden absence before you press it inside, sighing. It slips inside much too easily – you’re almost embarrassed by the easy slide. You’re so wet, both from your failed attempt at masturbation earlier and from sitting beside Simon fucking Riley all evening. It’s a deeper, subtler pleasure now, and you clench around it with a quiet moan. 

You cycle through the vibrator’s different settings, making it buzz at odd intervals or lower intensities in your usual attempt to build up an orgasm. You wish, with sudden and mortifying clarity, that it could be replaced with a person. More specifically, a person with big hands and firm muscles that still have some soft give to them, and a toe-curlingly gravelly voice.

You squirm, shifting your hips to change the angle of the vibrator inside you. Without meaning to, you imagine Ghost. It’s hard not to, considering your close proximity to him all evening. Your cheeks heat as you imagine Ghost actually being here, watching you all still and silent with that penetrating dark-eyed stare of his. 

You huff out a breath, arching off your bed. This is always the best part. You have to ensure that you relish the build up, before it all fizzles out from between your fingers. You whimper, soft and quiet, clenching around the stiff silicone as it buzzes away inside of you.

Right as you press the soft little vibrating bunny ears to your clit, there’s a knock on the door. Then, horrifically, like a scene from your fucking nightmares, your door opens.

“Kid, you–”

Ghost is already half-way through the door when he lays eyes on you, and then he goes completely still in your doorway.

“Fuck.” You hiss, scrambling to knock the stupid thing off. 

You fumble for it, panicking. The end is slippery and you can barely manage to grip it. When you finally do, it’s difficult to pull out, your body still attempting to hold it inside. It’s another agonising few seconds to turn it off, the vibrator unfortunately featuring one of those awfully thought-out designs that makes you have to cycle through every single one of the settings rather than hit an off-switch.

And then, finally, silence.

Ghost is living up to his name right now; he’s as stock still and silent as a dead man, stiff as a board as he stares unblinkingly at you. You’re not even sure that he’s breathing, but you can see the whites of his eyes as he gapes at you, frozen.

You stare back at him blankly, hoping that your bed comes to life and swallows you whole just to put an end to your mortification.

At last, Ghost blinks, then finishes his sentence. “You left your phone.”

He lifts his arm. In his large, thick fist, is your stupid goddamn phone. You must have left it on the couch when you had gotten up to leave. You might have wondered at the lieutenant voluntarily bringing it to your dorm for you, but you’re hit with a wave of humiliation so strong that it wipes your brain completely blank.

“Ah.” You say, and your voice cracks. “Thanks.”

There’s a moment of mortifying silence, and then Ghost steps into your room. Your heart jolts right up into the base of your throat as he closes your door behind him. The click of the door is as loud as a gunshot in the silence that’s settled over the room.

Ghost still hasn’t blinked. He’s watching you with eyes that look almost black in the dim light of your room, intense as a predator. 

“I–” You attempt to speak, and your throat clicks dryly. “I didn’t–”

Far too late, you realise that your legs are still splayed open. You snap them shut, inhaling a choked breath through your nose.

“I thought I locked the door.” You finish lamely. 

Ghost apparently decides to simply disregard that, which you’re honestly a little grateful for. Instead he steps towards you – the enormous bulk of him feels as though he’s completely filling every bit of space in the room, sucking out all the damn oxygen.

“...‘S this why you were so distracted this evening, hm?” He says as he approaches the bed. “You were in a mood ‘cause you wanted to get back to playing with yourself?”

It’s not a question, exactly. At least, it’s not phrased like one. Ghost’s tone is knowing, with an undertone of gruff amusement. You’re certain that you’re not imagining the rough, breathless quality to his voice either, though the thought sends nerves fizzing through your bloodstream.

“No.” You deny uselessy; it’s plainly obvious what you were doing, after all. “No, I just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish. His eyes are still glued to you, even though your thighs are now pressed together. Before you can stop him, he reaches down and takes a hold of your hot pink vibrator where you had been trying to hide it beneath your thigh.

“Cute little thing.” He comments, tilting his head to look at the dildo hanging between his thick fingers.

Mortification burns through you. A panicked sort of screech escapes you and you yank it back out of Ghost’s stupid big hand, shoving it under the blankets. 

Perhaps if it had been anyone else, your humiliation wouldn’t be burning quite so intensely. But this is Ghost – your lieutenant, the gruff man that you’ve looked up to ever since you joined the task force. He’s not a man famed for his patience, nor for his eloquence, which is making this situation all the more unbearable.

“Lt,” You wheeze, scrambling to sit up and cover your pussy with your hands as you squeeze your legs closed. “I swear I didn’t– I’m sorry–”

But Ghost doesn’t seem interested in your apologies. He’s still watching you as though he can see right through the damn blanket, as though he’s measuring you up and trying to come to a decision about something. In that moment, you hate your reaction to him – no matter how humiliating this situation is, you want him to approve of you, even now.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He grunts, and then he sits down on your bed.

You gape at him. It feels as though your brain has stalled; you’re pretty sure you’re not reacting correctly right now. You probably should have screamed when the lieutenant walked right into your room without knocking. That surely would have sent him straight back out again. And even now, you should probably be ordering him out, telling him to leave. 

But you don’t.

“I was.. um.. finished anyway.” You manage to croak out. You sound so pathetic that you nearly make yourself cringe.

Ghost doesn’t answer immediately. He just watches you, his eyes as dark as ever beneath the mask. For a moment, you think he’s not going to answer at all.

But then he says, “Didn’t look like you finished to me.”

Blood rushes to your face so quickly that it makes you light-headed as you catch his meaning. Oh, what the fuck. This is just adding salt to the wound now.

“I wasn’t trying to–” You start, then cut yourself off. “That’s not why I was– I was just trying to relax.”

In the ensuing silence, you realise how silly you sound. At the very least, Ghost doesn’t laugh; he just tilts his head to the side, consideringly.

“Let me see.”

You gape at him. “I– sir–”

“Let me see, sergeant.”

It’s not an order. Not quite. Ghost’s voice is effortlessly assertive, but it falls just short of being a command. You have room to refuse. You could tell him to get out of your dorm right now, and he’d do it. Knowing the lieutenant, he’d never bring it up again, either.

You drop your knees apart, spreading your thighs in an unpracticed, self-conscious sort of motion. 

Under the lieutenant’s sharp gaze, your skin prickles and your nerves strain. Even sitting down on your bed, he’s a veritable behemoth of broad shoulders and thick corded muscle. His hulking form towers over you even now, and you feel so damn small as you lay there propped up against your pillows in nothing but a t-shirt.

Ghost has seen you naked before, obviously. You can’t afford to be prudish in the military, where you never know when you’ll next have true privacy, and you’ve changed out and showered with the squad countless times. It’s never meant anything, and the men in 141 have never made you feel anything less than comfortable with them.

This, however, is different. This isn’t just a case of catching a quick glimpse of your nude form as you shower in the group shower rooms when you’re out on missions – your whole damn pussy is out on display for him, still glistening wet and sticky from your ministrations and the lube you’d used.

Ghost’s inhale is as loud as a thunderclap. You’ve never felt so exposed, so vulnerable in another person’s presence. You feel a little ridiculous laying like this as he watches you, but another part of you feels so humiliatingly desperate for some kind of approval from your lieutenant. 

At first, that approval is nowhere to be found. Ghost is notoriously difficult to read, and you’re beginning to sweat as you lay there waiting for a response – any response.

At last, he makes a noise. It’s part grunt, part hum, and part groan.

“You’re still wet, sergeant.”

Are you imagining it, or is his voice an octave deeper than usual? 

Your eyes trace his face, trying to imagine what he looks like beneath the mask. You can see the suggestion of his nose, the square curve of his jaw. His darkened eyes are watching you so carefully that you feel as though you’re physically being pinned in place.

You swallow. “It’s just– I–”

“You didn’t get to finish.” Ghost interrupts, with the air of completing your sentence for you. 

You try to speak, but nothing more than a strangled sort of murmur escapes. You swallow hastily, then try again.

“I wasn’t going to. Sir.” You tack on the title at the end as an afterthought, but this whole situation is so far beyond professional that you probably needn’t have bothered. “Finish, I mean. I… I never do.”

You’ve admitted it before you can really think about it, and then you regret it wildly. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve overstepped a boundary, but then again the boundaries are currently so blurred that they’re virtually impossible to discern.

“You never finish.” Ghost repeats it. Slowly, staring right at your face, as though he’s confirming what you’ve just said. 

It sounds so much worse in his deep, gravelly voice.

Embarrassment blooms, thick and sickly in your stomach. Your legs start to twitch closed, too embarrassed to be having this conversation with your cunt bared like this, but then Ghost’s big paw of a hand reaches out to settle over your knee, keeping you open and exposed. It’s so rare to see his hands ungloved, and the bare skin of his callous-roughened hand feels almost scorching hot against your inner knee.

“I don’t– I’ve tried,” You say, and you can’t help but feel as though you’re just digging yourself further into a hole, here. “But I don’t– I’m not able to. I mean, I’ve come close, I’m just not able to… you know.”

You trail off lamely, feeling like the biggest fucking loser ever. Why are you telling him this? Why the fuck haven’t you reacted properly, and kicked him the hell out of your room?

Deep down, a shameful little part of you already knows the answer to that. You’re feeling awfully, sickeningly hopeful. Having Lieutenant Riley in your dorm, sitting on your bed and staring so hungrily at the wet, swollen parts between your legs feels like something out of your wildest wet dreams.

His eyes flick towards your pink silicone rabbit dildo, half-hidden under your blanket, and he grunts consideringly before reaching out and taking it into his hands again. It’s standard-size, but it looks small in his big hands.

“You ain’t doin’ it right, then.” He says, so bluntly that you just blink at him. “Show me how you use it.”

For a brief, wild moment, you wonder if you’re experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations right now. Surely you can’t really be experiencing this right now – and yet the lieutenant is still watching you, and you’ve never disobeyed a direct order before. 

He hands you the vibrator, then waits expectantly.

And… well. All you ever try to do is impress him. 

You shuffle your legs open a little wider, ignoring the flustered heat that scalds your cheeks. You’ve never been all exposed like this in front of another person, and the weight of Ghost’s eyes on you is reminiscent of being under a spotlight.

You swear his eyes darken even further when you press the stiff silicone rabbit dildo to your cunt, if it’s even possible for that gaze to get darker beneath the thick balaclava and eyeblack smeared over the narrow strip of skin that’s visible.

The dildo sinks in so easily that it’s almost embarrassing, and your breath catches both from the stretch and the way Ghost leans in a little closer to see. Far from turning you off, you feel your body throb in response to his proximity, and your cunt flutters pathetically around the plastic toy. You shift, attempting to get a little more comfortable, but you can’t dispel the nerves fizzing in your blood as you attempt to push the dildo a little deeper under Ghost’s sharp gaze.

His big, hulking body is so perfectly still as he watches you that it’s making you a little nervous. The only reaction that you get from him is a small, considering hum, but even then you can’t figure out what it means. Your movements are a little clumsy, so hyper-conscious that he’s watching every single thing you do that you end up fumbling a little. He’s looking at you in the same way he assesses threats, his intense dark eyes examining every movement and reaction you make. It makes you feel small and jittery, especially when you realise that he’s judging you by what you’re doing.

“You gonna turn it on?” He asks, and oh god his voice has definitely dropped lower and huskier. You know you’re not imagining it. 

You can’t even bring yourself to respond with words. You just make a strangled sort of sound of agreement, then clumsily hit the on button. The toy buzzes to life once more, and your toes curl absent-mindedly into the sheets as the soft silicone bunny ears pulse against your clit.

It feels nice, but you can’t manage to concentrate on the feeling. Hyper-aware of Ghost’s attention, you let out a quiet moan as you shift the vibrator inside you. It’s a little exaggerated, but you can’t help it – you feel like you should be putting on some kind of a show. 

You glance back at Ghost’s face, trying to guess what he’s thinking; even through the mask, you can tell that he’s frowning. You feel your stomach clench anxiously. Have you done something wrong?

“This how you usually do it?” He asks.

You swallow thickly, feeling a bit stupid. “Um.. yeah.”

Ghost grunts. He doesn’t sound impressed.

“No wonder you can’t come.” He says wryly.

You go still, eyes widening. In the silence, the bzzzzt! of your stupid vibrator is louder than ever. A sudden wave of shame washes over you, and you start to close your legs again in an effort to block the sight of the toy stuffed into your pussy.

“Oh,” You snap sourly, your embarrassment making you irritable. “So you’re the pussy expert now?”

That startles a loud bark of a laugh out of the lieutenant, a sound so rare that you find yourself desperately trying to commit it to memory.

“Think I might know a bit more than you, sweetheart.” He says. He’s relaxed now, his wide shoulders rolling back. He’s always so effortlessly confident, always so assured in himself and his abilities in a way that makes you feel like a silly little girl. 

Judging by the way the corners of his eyes are just slightly wrinkled beneath the mask, Ghost is smirking at you. He finds this funny.

“What about when you’re with other people, hm?” He asks, and his eyes drop back down to try and get a look at you again. When he realises that your legs are clamped tight together, he reaches out to guide your thighs apart again. “No one’s ever impressed you?”

His hands are big and rough and hot, and your willpower crumbles like wet paper as you allow him to open your legs all over again. The vibrator is still buzzing sadly inside you, mostly forgotten about; the stimulation is nice, but it’s never been enough for you.

You huff a weak laugh. You should have known that this would come up, and now you find yourself floundering a little.

“No one’s ever tried.” The confession comes out like a whisper, like a secret.

You can see the moment Ghost understands; realisation settles heavy over him like a physical weight, and the whites of his eyes flash as they widen just slightly. For a moment, he says nothing at all. He doesn’t move – it doesn’t even look like he breathes. 

“No?” He says, except it doesn’t really sound like a question. It sounds rough, and you can feel the almost convulsive motion of his fingers tightening around your knee. 

You shake your head wordlessly, beyond embarrassed now.

Ghost’s wispy blond eyelashes flutter softly as his eyes dart down to your pussy, still humiliatingly stuffed with your stupid little vibrator. He takes a moment to stare, then looks back up to your face. He’s so frustratingly confident about everything he does, not an ounce of shame in his posture even as you wilt beneath him.

“Never messed around with anybody?”

“No.” You say, and it comes out on a wheeze. He holds your gaze without faltering, and you realise that he’s expecting you to elaborate. “No, I– it just never happened. I was never… um, I was just always too busy, I guess.”

“Too fussy, more like.” He mutters, quiet enough that it seems like it’s a comment meant just for himself. You don’t know how to take that, so you chew your lip and stay quiet.

His eyes drop down to the vibrating dildo again, and you recognise something that looks like a flash of hunger. It feels like there’s pressure building up beneath your skin, tight and hot, and your thighs fall open a little further. You feel raw and so, so exposed, but you don’t even care when Ghost is looking at you like that.

“Let me try.” He says, the words falling out sharp and harsh as though he they’ve burst out of his mouth before he can stop them. It’s not like Ghost to speak without thinking it through, perfectly calculated, and your breath catches a little at the offer.

How could you ever say no to that? You don’t really think that he’s going to succeed in making you come – at this point you’re pretty sure your body is a little bit broken and you’re just not capable of orgasming at all, and that’s whatever – but the chance to get fucked by Ghost? To lose the lingering vestiges of your viriginity to your ridiculously hot, mysterious, massive lieutenant? It’s like something out of a dream.

“Okay.” You choke out, nodding stupidly. “Yeah.”

You want to be touched. You don’t think you’ve ever actually felt the yearning for physical contact this strongly in your life; you’re practically holding your breath as you wait for Ghost to make a move.

Finally, he reaches out. His first move is to pull the stupid little dildo out of you, still vibrating, and you feel yourself clench convulsively around nothing as he leaves you empty and wanting. He spares it a brief, evaluating glance, and you feel yourself burn as you realise he’s examining how you’ve soaked the toy.

He tosses it to the side, barely even taking the time to switch it off first, then turns his attention back to you. He’s got that same kind of laser-focus he usually only gets out on the field, and you take a moment to feel incredibly grateful that you’re never going to be on the receiving end of that terrifying scrutiny on the battlefield.

It feels like your skin is too tight for your body, every nerve and synapse strained and primed as you wait for him to touch you. But he’s slow about it, as though he just wants to torture you a little bit. 

When he finally reaches out to lay his hands on you, he doesn’t touch where you want him to.

His callous-roughened hands land on your hips, and pull you down the bed towards him. In the same move, he half-climbs up on the mattress, his huge form practically dwarfing you. Your head and shoulders are still cushioned by your pillows, but your legs are splayed open around Ghost where he kneels on your bed.

You glance down, unable to help yourself, unable to resist trying to catch a look at the outline of his erection pressing against his trousers, and oh. Fuck. He’s big. You knew he’d be big, of course, he’s big all over, but Jesus Christ, maybe you’re a little out of your own depth here–

His thick fingers tangle in the hem of your t-shirt, stretching the fabric out. “Take this off.”

You scramble to do as he says, grabbing at your top and pulling it up clumsily. You realise a moment too late that you’re not wearing a bra, but you suppose at this point it hardly matters. You drop your shirt to the side, and try not to feel too horrifically self-conscious beneath the burning hot gaze of the lieutenant.

Though you can’t see Ghost’s face, you can hear the soft exhale he blows out through his nose, just faintly muffled by the fabric of his mask. His eyes are trained on your chest, darting between each of your tits as though he can’t decide which one to settle on. After a long moment, he reaches forward and cups your left tit with one of his enormous hands, thumbing absently at one of your nipples.

It’s silly; Ghost has touched you before. Lots of times. A nudge of the elbow accompanied by a conspiratorial eye roll, a clap to the shoulder, rough hands pulling you to your feet after training or applying white-hot painful pressure to injuries. But this – you’ve never been touched like this before, not by Ghost, not by anyone.

The shaky breath you let out as his big, rough thumb rolls over your firm nipple comes out as a strangled sort of moan that honestly startles you a little. The noise catches his attention, and he snorts.

“Can’t be that sensitive.” He mutters, but then he reaches to thumb at your other nipple as though trying to be sure.

It’s because you’ve never been touched like this by another person before, you tell yourself. Truthfully, you’ve never even touched yourself like this before. You’ve never bothered to play with your own tits; you’ve always just gone straight to breaking out your vibrators. Now, with every brush of Ghost’s scarred fingers over the tight bud of your nipples, you think you must have been crazy to skip over this part of yourself. But then again, there’s no way that your own hands on yourself would elicit the same sharp jolt that shoots from your breasts down your spine.

“Sir–” You breathe, struggling not to squirm where you’re laying. You wonder, somewhat deliriously, if it might be rude to demand your lieutenant stuff his thick fingers into your pussy. You can already tell that they’re going to feel so much better than your own.

Ghost glances up at you, his eyes unreadable as he watches you bite at your lip. God, his little wispy eyelashes are so blond—

“What?” He says, his voice deep enough that you swear you can feel it rumbling through your bones. “Say it.”

“Want to try your fingers.” You breathe before you can second-guess yourself. 

The laugh that rumbles out of Ghost’s chest is low and smoky. It’s probably impossible to miss the way your eyes have been drawn to his hands all evening, so big and corded with veins and muscle and scar tissue. You’ve witnessed those hands crack bones and snap necks and break down doors, and yet you can’t help but wonder desperately what they’re going to feel like when he starts touching you properly.

He adjusts himself on the bed; he’s a big man, hulking and huge as he kneels on your mattress, his weight causing it to dip. His palms wrap around your ankles with ease, and he hauls you into place with a grim efficiency that goes straight to your pussy.

“Big brute.” You say, a little breathlessly.

He ignores you, using his arms to hold your legs open and wide for him. And all you can do is just lie there as he stares, because goddamn it’s like he’s been carved from steel and you can’t break out of his grip. Not that you want to break out of his grip anyway, but you’d really appreciate it if he actually got moving instead of just staring.

“Fuck,” He grunts after a moment, with the air of talking to himself. “Been hiding this all this time, huh?”

“Jesus.” You breathe in response, subconsciously letting your legs drop open even more.

He makes a low noise of appreciation, and finally reaches out to touch you properly. One thick thumb swipes through the seam of your cunt, and you feel the way he’s smearing the clear sticky wetness that’s been leaking steadily out of you. With his now slick thumb, he drags up towards your clit and circles it with agonisingly light pressure.

You let out an embarrassing choked whine, your toes curling at the sensation. Somewhat ironically, Ghost is handling you far more gently than you usually touch yourself, and you find yourself flexing your hips in an attempt to get him to touch you with more pressure. He ignores your attempts, keeping his pace implacably steady and slow.

“D’you always get this wet?”

You can’t even tell if he’s asking you mockingly or if he’s being genuinely curious; it feels like every inch of your focus has narrowed down to the feel of his big thumb rolling those tight little circles around your clit, his touch scorching against you.

It’s not exactly surprising that Ghost is good with his hands. You’ve seen the way he handles weaponry, locking and loading and aiming to fire with the kind of swiftness that comes from muscle memory, working with unwavering speed and precision. He’s the same in hand-to-hand combat, moving with aggressive fluidity that overwhelms his opponents. You’ve caught hits from him before in training, and you know from experience that a punch from those big hands feels like getting hit by a cinder block.

But even knowing how deft and skilled his hands are, it knocks the breath out of you when he slides his middle and ring fingers inside of you, still rubbing steadily at the swollen bump of your clit. 

When you exhale, it accidentally comes out as a moan. Your cheeks burn, but there’s really no space in your brain right now for embarrassment to sink in. Two of Ghost’s fingers are the equivalent of at least three and a half of yours, and you feel yourself break out into an overwhelmed sweat when they twist and rub against the sensitive squishy spot in the front wall of your cunt.

You’re so damn worked up, your arousal coiled like a knot in your lower belly from your failed attempts to get yourself off all day. Your back curves, humping yourself near mindlessly back up into his hand as he plays you like a goddamn instrument.

You barely even have time to consider how unfair it is that Ghost is so good at playing with you like this when he doesn’t even have a pussy himself, because then he pulls his fingers out of you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop–” You start to protest breathlessly, your chest still heaving, but the quick glance the lieutenant sends you has you falling silent.

Ghost glances down at his fingers. They’re all glossy from fingering you, and he takes a moment to eye up the way they glisten in the dim light of your bunk. You might have felt self-conscious about it, if you couldn’t see the unmistakable gleam of hungry interest in Ghost’s dark brown eyes.

He wipes his hand on the crease of your hip, but you don’t even get the chance to protest before he reaches up to hook his fingers into his mask. You go still, holding your breath in surprise as he pulls the material up until it bunches up around the bridge of his nose.

And that’s– well. You’ve seen his jaw before, and his mouth (Jesus, you had seen it earlier that evening, when he had been sipping on his smooth whiskey of choice), but the sight of his strong jawline and blond stubble and corded scars on his pale skin always manages to knock the breath out of you. And this time, he’s rolled his mask up even further than before, revealing a nose that’s clearly been broken at least once before.

You probably shouldn’t stare so blatantly, especially knowing that Ghost always takes such pains to keep his face covered. You’re not even sure if the other guys on the team have seen his uncovered face, except for Price, and you know that they’ve developed a habit of averting their eyes when he pulls his mask up for whatever reason. It’s a habit that you never quite managed to develop yourself; you’re never able to stop yourself from gaping at him like a moron, drinking in all of the minutest details. He’s never said a thing about your penchant for staring, so you can only hope that he’s chosen to ignore it.

You’re so busy staring that it takes you by surprise when he grips your jaw with one massive hand and pulls you into a rough kiss.

The sound you make is small and startled, but it’s swallowed by Ghost’s demanding mouth. His lips are dry and a little chapped, but they feel scorching hot against yours. You reach up to grab at his arms – mostly just to ground yourself – but you find yourself almost immediately distracted by the firm bulge of his biceps beneath your hands.

Listen, you’ve kissed people before, plenty times. You’re in your early twenties, and just because you’re inexperienced sexually it doesn’t mean that you’re inexperienced full stop. But this, right now, kissing with Ghost, makes you feel as though you’ve been doing nothing but fumbling your way through all of those encounters, like you’ve been kissing wrong all this time.

It’s slow and deep, at first. All-consuming. It lights a fire in your gut, which expands and spreads throughout your body until you find your fingers grasping desperately at the short cotton sleeves of Ghost’s t-shirt where it’s stretched over his thickly muscled arm.

Ghost doesn’t just kiss with his mouth, either. It’s like a full-body experience with him; he puts his hands, his whole damn body into the kiss. He clutches you to him, holding you close even as the force of his kiss bends you backwards into the pillows beneath you. At the same time, it’s all you can do to concentrate and respond to the kiss itself, your attention stretched and strained by the feeling of Ghost’s hands running over you, stroking you sides and squeezing at your breasts and groping at the soft flesh of your hips and ass. 

 “Hah,” You gasp out when Ghost’s lips slide sideways to find the corner of your jaw. His mouth is hot against your skin, bruising, and you feel yourself grow embarrassingly wetter, just from a little kissing.

“You good?” Ghost grunts into your throat as he nips at the base of your jaw.

“Uh huh.” You manage to get out, still clutching at his meaty arms like they’re a lifeline. “So good.”

His breath is hot on your throat when he rumbles out a deep chuckle, and then his tongue flicks out against your earlobe. It makes you forget how to breathe for a second, and you’re distracted when Ghost’s hand changes course, easing beneath your legs so he can press his fingers against your clit again.

Then he pauses, and his fingers slide lower, lazily hooking back and inside you. You tremble, horny and humiliated as you realise that your arousal is glistening all over your damn thighs, impossible to miss.

“Fuck,” Ghost mutters. “All this for me, sweetheart?”

“Hnng,” You whimper like an idiot as his fingers return to your clit, now slick and slippery. “I’m just–”

He doesn’t wait for you to explain. Instead, he pulls his fingers out of you again and kisses you hard. The soft breathy noises you make are muffled into his mouth, and you wrap your legs around his waist automatically. He’s built like a damn mountain, your thighs stretched wide to accommodate the bulk of him as he settles against the core of you.

He likes that – he presses in close, and you can feel the hard line of his cock pressing up against you through the roughness of his jeans. You’re so sensitive that the coarseness of the fabric is almost unbearable, but you’re able to ignore it because you’re so distracted by the sensation of his erection because holy fucking shit that can’t really be how big he is.

You gasp, the sound high and breathy, and you try to grind against Ghost, but it’s impossible because he’s so fucking heavy and he’s pinning you down on the mattress beneath him. Instead, all you can do is squeeze your legs and pull Ghost in even tighter, increasing the pressure between the two of you.

“I’m gonna ruin you,” Ghost whispers, and it sounds like a promise. He drags his lips up your throat, then talks against the corner of your mouth. “You won’t be able to touch yourself again without wishing it was me.”

The wave of desire that rocks through you almost pulls you under, and you swear you might have actually gotten so horny that you blacked out for a second, because from one second to the next Ghost has somehow managed to muscle his way back down between your thighs so that he’s eye-level with your cunt.

“What are you–” You start to say, but then he loops his forearms under your knees to tug your legs wider, and you realise just how close his face is to your pussy. You swear you’re actually pulsing with arousal, and you wonder a little wildly if he can see that.

“Oh, fuck, yes — please,” You blurt out, before Ghost has even gotten his mouth on you. He chuckles, low and amused. His grin looks predatory, but in this moment you really don’t mind being the prey — not if it means you’ll be devoured by that mouth.

Then Ghost’s mouth is against you, wet and burning hot. You cry out, barely noticing as Ghost throws one of your legs over his shoulders, spreading you open.

It’s just the right side of overwhelming. Ghost’s mouth feels like it’s going to swallow you whole – his tongue is huge and flat and firm as he licks over your clit, making your thighs quake on either side of his head. It’s entirely unlike any of the fumbling masturbatory attempts you’ve ever made – you always enjoy messing around with your various little sex toys, but you’re swiftly beginning to realise that it could never compare to real human contact. Or at least, contact with Ghost.

His hands move from your waist to your asscheeks, his big palms squeezing the plump flesh there before using his grip to pull your body closer so that he can bury his whole face between your legs. The rougher material of his mask presses harshly into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, but you hardly even notice it.

Your pussy has never been this wet before; it feels like you’ve sprung a goddamn leak. You might have felt embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the way Ghost groans against you, his wide tongue laving flat and rough against the seam of your cunt as he practically gulps down all the sticky arousal you have to give him.

“Oh god– fuck! Sir…” You sigh, spreading your knees farther apart so that Ghost can wedge his head further between your thighs.

Your ears burn as your room is filled with sounds of him tonguing at your cunt, the lewd wet squish of him working you over until you’re keening, your hips twitching clumsily until his hands tighten where he’s gripping the plump flesh of your ass to keep you still. Then all you can do is twitch as he licks over your clit in repetitive lapping motions, working in circles and then dipping down to shove his searingly hot tongue inside you. You can feel his teeth press against your labia even as he sucks at your clit, and the sensation sends hot bolts of pleasure rocketing down your spine.

Though you don’t mean to, you’re pretty sure that you make his job harder. You can’t stop wriggling, tossing your head back against your pillows and squirming on Ghost’s tongue in a wild overstimulated dance, like a fish caught in a net.

Finally, Ghost seems to have enough of your unco-ordinated flailing attempts to grind against his face. He reaches around your thigh with one arm to reach your clit so he can keep it stimulated as he gulps at the sticky sweetness of your cunt like a man possessed – the action also works to keep your hips pinned down and still. You stop your frantic moving, but your spasms and sounds increase tenfold.

You can hardly believe it, but you feel something coming. A sweet, torturous build up starts in your belly, and you sweat and gasp as he licks and suckles at you relentlessly. You’ve never found yourself in this state so quickly before, with your legs trembling and your breathing heavy and shaky. 

“Oh.. oh…” You breathe, beginning to arch your back.

You know this feeling – this is where that sweet climax builds and builds, only to dissipate at the last agonisingly close moment. But this time, with Ghost’s big head between your thighs as his mouth moves against you, sucking, tasting, eating up everything you have to offer, the breath-taking pleasure doesn’t show any sign of slipping out of reach. It feels like for once you might actually reach that peak.

But then, right as you’re certain that you’re about to tip over that long-awaited coveted release, the bastard pulls away.

“No!” You practically shriek, attempting to sit up. “No, I was so close–!”

“Lie back.” Ghost orders, his voice like the crack of a whip. 

You drop back obediently before you can even register that you’re moving, so conditioned to react instantly to that tone of voice coming from Ghost’s deep rumbling baritone. Your eyes are wide and betrayed as you stare at him, admittedly a little baleful.

God, but it’s hard to stay annoyed when he’s staring up at you from between your legs like that. His eyes are dark and hungry beneath the mask, and since it’s all pushed up and rumpled around his nose you get a toe-curlingly good look at his lower face. His chin is wet and smeared with your slick, and his lips are plump and pink and swollen from all the kissing and suckling he’s done to you. In a moment of near-delirium, you think that you understand now why he covers his face – his mouth is pretty in a way that shocks you, in a way that needs to be hidden for decency’s sake.

“You’re gettin’ greedy,” He grunts, turning his head and sinking his teeth into the crease of your thigh just to make you yelp. “Wait for it, love. It’ll be worth the wait.”

You don’t think you have much of a choice, so all you can do is lay back and hold on for the ride. He presses his mouth to you again, and you whimper softly as he tongues at your clit. 

“No one’s ever eaten you out like this?” He asks, the words muffled into the damp curve of your thigh. It’s stupid, because you know he knows the answer to that is a resounding no, but it seems like he just wants to hear you say it out loud.

“No.” You say, your breaths sawing their way out of your chest.

“Hnn.” He makes some kind of grunting sound against you, his tongue flicking out to taste you again. “That’s why you’ve been so tense, huh? So fuckin’ desperate for someone to touch you?”

“That’s not– ‘m not tense,” You manage to get out, your breasts heaving as your thighs tense up where they’re thrown over his shoulders. “Maybe.. Maybe you’re too relaxed.”

Ghost huffs a hot little laugh at your hip because you both know that couldn’t be further from the truth. You doubt anyone has ever accused Ghost of being too relaxed before, but you don’t have time to feel stupid for it – not when Ghost is devoting the full force of his attention on you, deep breaths huffing against the wet skin of your pussy and making you shudder.

“That’s it,” He croons, his voice uncharacteristically soft and lilting. The rumble of it ripples through your limbs like lapping waves, his battle-roughened palm stroking and smoothing down your ass and thigh as he hauls you closer. “Relax, sweetheart. Fuck, such a pretty pussy. Fuckin’ criminal of you to keep this hidden away all to yourself.” And then, quieter, “Fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet.”

You’re not even sure that he’s talking to you. It seems more as though he’s talking to himself, and it just happens to be you he’s talking about. Your cheeks burn as the feeling of vulnerability sets in, but you keep your legs spread wide as he kisses your clit with his swollen pink lips. You want so badly to be good, for him to be pleased with you, that you push past your embarrassment as best you can.

There’s a budding anxiety in your belly that Ghost is wasting his time here. As much as you crave his touch and the build up, you worry that he’s going to get frustrated with you and your inability to actually orgasm.

But Ghost doesn’t seem to be in a rush. He seems perfectly fucking happy between your legs, and even with his mask all clumsily rucked up around his nose he presses his face into your pussy with his eyes heavy-lidded and hazy. Even when you shift a little in an effort to get him to go a little harder or faster, he just pins you still and continues at his own leisurely pace.

When he reintroduces his fingers, pressing inside and stretching you out with a light sting, you hiss and try to lift your hips again. His rough calloused knuckles brush against the inside of your soft inner thighs, making them quiver as he goes three fingers deep.

“Shhh, atta girl.” He mumbles into you, his words coming out wetly muffled since he doesn’t even both pulling his face back. “Fuckin’– shit, so good.”

The praise shoots liquid and molten through you, and you have to bite back a pathetic keen as you pulse around his fingers. You’re sure he must feel it, because he lets out an answering rumble and laps against your clit, then closes his lips and sucks.

“Oh god–”

“Shhh.” Ghost scoots forward so your knee can hoist over his shoulder. Then he angles his chin to kiss the skin on the inside curve of your knee as he pumps into you with slow, slippery fingers and ungodly squelching noises that only sparks you hotter. You can’t even tell if it’s sweat or tears dotting your face anymore.

Though Ghost’s eyes are heavy-lidded and a little fogged over, he hasn’t looked away from you once. The focused intensity of his gaze spears you through, because you’ve never been looked at like that. No one has ever seen you like this, no one has ever put effort into you like this, no one has ever been so determined to please you before. You don’t know how you’re ever going to recover from this; you have a terrifyingly distinct impression that he’s going to live up to his promise to ruin you for anyone else.

It feels as though your blood is boiling beneath your skin, and you nearly sob when Ghost pulls back. You’ve never been so close, and you want to scream when he takes his gorgeous fucking mouth away from your clit.

“Fuck.” You wet your lips, realising you were panting like a dog and your mouth is bone dry. “Fuck, Ghost, just—”

“Quiet, lovie.” His reply is hoarse and firm, his throat working hard to swallow as he peered down between you, his clever thumb delving slick circles over the taut bump of your clit, his other three fingers fucking with easy rhythm and purpose. It’s maddening, it’s infuriating, it makes you feel as though you’re about to break apart.

His fingers are pulled out, and then you feel firm pressure pressing into you yet again. Your head lolls as you attempt to sit up, your eyelids fluttering as you realise that he’s pressing your stupid dildo into you again.

“Oh, you bastard–” You start to complain, but Ghost doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak properly.

The dildo slides into you so easily, your sticky slick mixing with his spit making the slide almost effortless. You sigh, a build-up of pressure making your whole body feel as though you’ve been stretched out and pulled tight. 

Now that you’ve been pushed to the edge, you linger by it. Ghost keeps you on that edge for what feels like hours, until your breaths are burning in your chest and the ligaments in your calves are screaming from all the straining you’ve been doing. Every roll of Ghost’s thumb over your clit sends sparks racing through your nerves, and your breathing is harsh and uneven as Ghost starts fucking you with the stupid vibrating dildo. The rhythm he sets is firm and unrelenting, pushing the silicone toy in and out and visibly relishing the wet squish of your cunt as it takes it deep.

Ghost huffs against the wet skin of your inner thigh, making you shudder. It seems like he’s enjoying this as much as you are, judging by the subtle roll of his hips against your mattress as he absorbs himself in fucking you with the dildo. 

He experiments with the angle, adjusting the dildo until you cry out, jerking against the bedding, and whining “There!”. You needn’t bother telling him, though; Ghost has a sharp eye, and he’s so goddamn attentive. He’s already repeating the stroke, pushing the dildo in and bumping it against the same sensitive spot he had hit before.

It feels good, but it’s not enough. Now that you’ve felt the firm hot pressure of his fingers spreading you wide and the wet hunger of his mouth devouring you, you don’t think anything else will do.

He shifts, you catch the rolls of his hips against your mattress again, and you feel as though you’ve caught fire. You think of the glimpse you had caught of his hard cock, pressing against his jeans and making the fabric stretch taut, and you find yourself speaking without thinking.

Ghost pushes the dildo in once more, and you reach down to grab at his wrist as you ask breathlessly, “Can I try yours?”

He pauses; goes so still that it’s honestly uncanny, his eyes practically boring holes into you as he stares at your face. You grow flustered, your own eyes widening in response to your own words. Just because he’s deigning to touch you with his fingers and his mouth, doesn’t mean he’s actually planning to fuck you. Jesus, he’s your fucking superior officer. What were you thinking?

“I’m sorry,” You squeak. “That wasn’t appropriate. Fuck, forget I said that–”

Even beneath the mask, you can see the bob of Ghost’s Adam's apple as he swallows thickly.

“You sure?” He interrupts your rambling before you can get started. “I don’t... ‘m not good with virgins.”

There’s… there’s so much you could say in response to that. Namely, he certainly doesn’t seem like he’s bad with virgins, as evidenced by the throb of arousal still pulsing through your soaked cunt. He’s just had you sobbing at the mercy of his fingers and mouth, and all he has to say when you ask for more is that he’s not good with virgins?

Instead, what you say is a rather lame, “I’m not technically a virgin.”

Which is true. Sort of. Based on a technicality – you had bullied your damn vibrator through your stupid hymen years ago, and you’ve always thought the idea of virginity was a stupid one, anyway. 

“Plastic cocks don’t count, darlin’.”

Blood rushes to your face so fast you feel light-headed as humiliation burns through you. Jesus, okay. That’s just mortifying. 

“Oh, you think your cock is special, then?” You scoff, attempting nonchalance.

Ghost shifts, letting your legs drop from his shoulders, and kneels up on the mattress so that he’s looming over you. Fuck, every time you get a visceral reminder of how big he is, you feel a little faint. It’s like having a veritable wall of muscle caging you into your bed. Your thighs are spread wide to accommodate the size of him, and you find yourself absolutely captivated by the sight of him with his muscles straining against that stupid tight t-shirt, still panting lightly from his greedy gorging on your cunt.

He reaches out and drags a hand slowly from your cunt up over your belly, between your breasts, up over your sternum, to rest over your collarbones. It’s gentle – he doesn’t put an iota of pressure against your throat – but all you can fucking see is the swell of his bicep and the dark ink of his tattoo and the prominent veins running down the chiselled muscle of his forearm.

Good fucking lord.

“You’ll find out.” He says.

And oh. Okay then. Yeah, you sure fucking will.

He reaches down and unbuttons his jeans, and you can’t help but strain to try and watch. He pushes them down carelessly around his thighs, but doesn’t make any move to strip them off any further. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re laying on the bed completely nude and exposed, while Ghost has only pushed his jeans down far enough to pull his cock out, but you don’t have any time to feel self-conscious about it.

His cock curves up against his belly, red and twitching. He’s fucking rock hard, and bigger than you had been expecting, bigger than any of your stupid little toys. Your mouth goes dry, and your eyes widen comically. Fuck. No wonder he’s confident. He’s not lacking in any way.

“D’you’ve a johnny?” He asks, one big paw of a hand taking his cock and stroking lazily at it until a bead of pearly precum oozes from the angry red head.

You’re distracted for a moment, staring at the way he fists his cock, before you blink back to yourself. “What?”

“A condom.” He enunciates slowly, as though speaking to someone he thinks is a bit thick.

“I know what you meant,” You snap, embarrassed. “But– no. Why would I? I’ve never…”

You can see the way his eyes crease and realise that he’s frowning beneath the mask, and you’re hit with a sudden bolt of panic – is he going to change his mind now? You can see the hesitation in the lines of his shoulders, but you think if he changes his mind about fucking you, you might just die.

“It doesn’t matter,” You blurt, “You don’t need one. I’m on the pill. I’m clean.”

Ghost cocks his head, but remains still. It’s almost unnerving, and you feel your toes curl into the bedsheets as you wait for an answer. He looks fucking predatory, hulking over you like a fucking behemoth as he watches you assessingly. You try your best to look confident, but you have a feeling that you just look desperately hungry.

He reaches up and hooks his fingers into the fabric of his mask and pulls it back down to cover his still slick-shiny mouth and jaw, and you’re gripped with sudden overwhelming panic and dismay that he’s changed his mind, that he’s about to leave you here wet and empty and wanting. In that moment, you throw your dignity into the wind.

“Please,” You beg pathetically, wriggling a little bit against your sweat-damp bedding in an effort to grind yourself against him. “Please, please, it’s fine, I swear, you don’t need one–”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost grinds out, his voice rough and a little hoarse. “How can a virgin be such a fuckin’ slut?”

Some part of you wonders if you should be offended by that, but instead a frisson of heat runs down your spine. You know you’re not a slut – you’ve never searched for any sexual attention, and you’ve never even experienced someone else’s touch – but goddamn you want to be a slut for your lieutenant right now.

Despite his harsh words, when Ghost hooks your legs over his hips and aligns himself with you, he’s gentle. He’s acting like you’re something fragile; he’s so big that your legs are spread wide around his waist, his shoulders so broad that he’s blocking out the dim light from your lamp, and yet his touch is light against you as though he’s afraid to break you.

He’s still gripping his cock hard, and he slides the tip of it against your slick heat. You have a brief moment of alarm; even through the haze of arousal, you can recognise that this is going to be a tight fit. You breathe deeply, then begin to wiggle your hips in an effort to take him inside you.

He hisses, then one of his big hands grabs at your hip. “Fuck, stay still.”

“Put it in.” You beg, your voice coming out thick and stupid-sounding. “Fuck, please, c’mon, c’mon–”

“Kid,” Ghost bites out through clenched teeth, his voice low and gritty. “Need you to shut the fuck up for me.”

You manage to bite down on your lip, but you can’t stop yourself from pouting mopily at him with wide, wet eyes. You don’t understand why he’s making you wait – can’t he see how mean he’s being? You’re so fucking wet, so empty as you clench down on nothing, and your clit is so desperate for any kind of stimulation that it’s throbbing needily. The head of his cock catches at your opening, dipping in for a second before resuming its maddening slide up and down.

Ghost is still watching you closely, his brown eyes flickering from where the head of his cock drags through your sodden folds up to your pleading pouting expression. You can only imagine what kind of a sight you make, because his chest growls with a choked sort of groan.

“I know,” He murmurs, almost mockingly soft with you. “I know, you want it. Gotta give it to you slowly.”

You want to tell him that he doesn’t have to give it to you slowly, that he can go as fast and hard as he wants to, but some sense of self-preservation shuts you up. Instead, you nod clumsily as he rubs his cock over the slick folds of your cunt, lubing himself up with your own arousal. The feeling of his cock dragging over you, iron hard and velvety soft, so close to where you want it, is enough to have your head spinning dizzily.

You want to beg again, but you’re still trying to follow his order to be silent. You shift restlessly, biting back a whimper when he taps his cock thoughtfully against your clit.

Finally, he decides to put you out of your misery. 

The thick crown of his cock pushes against the tight ring of muscle at the entrance of your cunt, and the gasp you let out is positively punched out of you. He goes slow, just like he promised, but you can still hardly believe it. He goes in and in and in, and yet he’s somehow not even halfway inside. 

“Fuck,” You wheeze, punctuated by a strange little yowl. “Oh god, wait–”

You feel stuffed just from the first few inches, drunk already on the quiet little grunts he’s making. The stretch and the sting and the pressure inside you is glorious, so tight that you can barely even flex around him and you can’t even decide if it’s good or if it’s too much. Your eyes are hot and wet as overwhelmed tears begin to overflow, and you find yourself arching in a weak attempt to flex away from him and the devastating stretch.

God, he’s massive. You knew he would be, of course, but his size seems so much more significant when you’re being impaled on the end of his cock. Fuck, you can feel your vision go blurry as your eyes fill with overwhelmed tears. You’re mortified when a sob is ripped from your chest, harsh and thick.

“Shh, shh.” Ghost coos, his deep voice syrupy thick as he leans over you, the enormous bulk of him caging you into the mattress until your whole world consists only of him. “Just a little bit more.”

“Fuck,” You choke out, trying to arch away again but failing because he’s so big that there’s nowhere to go. “It’s not gonna fit!”

“Shh, lovie,” He rumbles, ducking his face down so that the rough cotton of his mask is pressed against the sweaty skin of your neck. “Relax’n let me in.”

“I– ‘m trying–” You whine, clutching at his biceps. “Jesus–”

You blink your eyes open, vision blurry from the tears clumping your lashes together, only to be met with the sight of Ghost’s deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath the black mask. He’s looming above you, his gaze made all the more intense by the fact that it’s the only part of his face you can really see.

“All that messin’ around with those plastic cocks, but you’re still this tight for me,” He says, his voice so deep that you feel it reverberate into your bones. “Deep breath.”

The breath you inhale at his instruction is rough and ragged, and he snorts a low breathless laugh in response.

When he finally drives his cock all the way in with one smooth stroke, all the breath is driven from your lungs. It feels as though his cock has been pressed all the way up into your chest, and the noise you make when you squirm on it is utterly pathetic. 

Ghost’s hands are like steel clamps when they close around the plump flesh of your thighs, holding them up and pressing them back until they’re pressed against your belly. He looms over you, still almost entirely clothed as sweat beads over his thickly muscled neck. It’s like getting pinned down by a mountain, and you whimper as you’re speared open and prone by the weight of Ghost pressing down upon you.

He hasn’t even started to move yet, but you still feel overfull and raw.

“Too big,” You mumble, struggling to catch your breath. You choke on a sob and feel your eyes burn with unshed tears as your back arches. “Ghost–!”

“Shh.” He grunts. “Call me Simon when I fuck you.”

That… that does something to you. Molten heat rockets up your spine and pools in your belly, and you swear your pussy floods. It’s stupid, how being granted permission to call your lieutenant by his first name is somehow so much hotter than anything else he’s done so far.

“Simon,” You try it out. It comes out a little shaky, your voice little more than a weak whisper, but you swear you can see his eyes sharpen. 

Apparently having come to the decision that you’ve adjusted enough, Ghost pulls his hips back only to drive back in. 

“Oh!” You yelp, hips jumping, but there’s nowhere to go. 

All you can do is lie there as he slides out, out, out, slow and careful and long, and then his hips snap forward and he impales you, pressing all the way into him. He does it again, and again, and you try to bite down on your tongue, try to not sound so pathetically wrecked, but you can’t. It’s like Ghost is puncturing your lungs and every time he fucks into you, you let out the most pathetic little mewling ah ah ah sounds.

You’re not quite prepared for how different this feels; it’s nothing like your stupid plastic dildo. Ghost’s cock is bigger, but it’s also hotter and with more give than you expected, and you’ve never been able to fuck yourself like this. Your plastic toys could never compare to the sensation of being pinned by your giant of a lieutenant as he ruts into you.

Ghost reaches up and roughly pushes his mask up so his mouth is exposed again before he leans in deeper, almost folding you cleanly in half, stretching in to claim your mouth in a kiss that’s not quite a kiss, but rather a fierce mash of lips and tongue as his rhythm picks up, riding you down into the mattress until you realised the screaming noise isn’t coming from either one of you, but the cheap standard issue bed frame.

All you can do is gasp with each deep, raw fuck. There are tears tracking lazily down your cheeks, having overflowed from your burning eyes, and you honestly think your lungs might collapse. You’re bent like a fucking pretzel, in a way that’s making the muscles in your thighs scream, as Ghost pounds into you. 

He’s fucking relentless, but also shockingly aware of you beneath him. He doesn’t put too much pressure on you when he holds you, he never goes hard enough to hurt, and he knows just the right amount of weight to pin you down without being too much.

Your pussy is sloppy around him, wet squishing noises getting louder and louder as he finds more rhythm against your tight walls. Your whole world of awareness has been narrowed down to Ghost and Ghost only; his fingers digging into your thighs, your name in his mouth, his sweltering body pressing against yours. 

He’s holding back, you can tell by the way his voice is caught in his throat. He’s keeping all his dangerous muscles at bay as he pulls out and presses in again. Rough, fast, but not enough to break you, just enough to make you scream until you bury your face to the side and try to cover your mouth with your arm.

“Yeah, you needed this,” Ghost grunts, his uncovered mouth nipping at the hinge of your jaw. “This’s why you were so fuckin’ distracted earlier, hm? You thinkin’ about how much you needed to cream around a real cock?”

“Uh huh, yeah,” You slur out, not even sure what you’re agreeing with. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth, every nerve in your body raw and sparking. You must sound so pathetic, but Ghost seems to like it.

“Ain’t gonna be distracted anymore, are ya?” He rumbles, laving his tongue over your jaw in a way that feels filthy. “Just needed your little pussy filled, that’s all.”

You cry out for him because you can’t help it, delight bubbling in your throat every time he plunges into you. He keeps his pace for a bit, all rushed and blazing, transfixed on watching you suck him in, leaving slick trails along his shaft. But gradually he gets bolder, more desperate, big hands squeezing from your thighs to your hips.

You get lost in the feeling of him in your belly, searing and harsh, fat tip rolling against the spongy spot inside of you until you feel like you might snap. You feel him in your ears, your head pounding with every snap of his hips. You swear you even feel him in your toes, lightning zaps of pleasure down your nerves.

Then he leans back, lifting his weight off of you so you can breathe properly. He leaves his hand on your collarbones like a placeholder, his palm spread over the base of your throat like a reminder, a way to keep your attention on him. 

“Fuck,” He grits out, “That’s it, doll.”

You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Ghost’s gaze has shifted, no longer focused on your face but now instead fixed firmly between your legs as he watches the thick shaft of his cock sink into you. He obviously likes how you feel inside; you can hear him cursing and grunting quietly as his free hand grips your hip for leverage. 

With his mask rumpled up around his nose, you’re gifted with an incredible view of the way his teeth are sunk into his lower lip. Each time he sinks his cock into you again, he makes a raspy little groan, eyes fluttering briefly shut. It’s so painfully endearing that your heart quivers in your chest.

Your legs burn from being spread around his thick waist — any attempt for you to lock them around his back is useless, your legs slipping everytime his ass flexes with his thrusts. Every hasty drive of his hips has the ridge of his cock sliding against the spongy spread of your walls, making you feel more stuffed every time he ruts into you. With every sudden movement you feel the entirety of his fat cock; the veins are throbbing, skin heated and silken within you. Part of you marvels how you’re even able to fit him inside you.

“Never seen you look like this,” he grunts. “All fucked-out and perfect.”

Ghost leans in again, grips your legs so he can rearrange them over his shoulders, and you think you might die. The angle is different and somehow, impossibly, Ghost is fucking into you even deeper. You think you might actually be crying. There’s no question as to whether you’re drooling.

Your hands move to his arms, nails sinking into the hard muscles of his triceps as you cling on for dear life. He doesn’t even seem to notice the sting of your nails scratching him; or perhaps it only urges him on, because his movements take on an edge of desperation.

“Gorgeous girl,” He grits out, jaw clenched. “Squeezin’ so tight. Fuck. Gonna make you cream.”

 You had forgotten about his promise to make you come, too lost in the hazy pleasure of his cock. But now it seems as though he’s been seized by the compulsion to fuck you to the edge; he reaches a hand down so that his thumb can join the fray, and it startles you into moaning breathlessly aloud. 

His thumb is merciless against your clit. You’re vulnerable to his touch, clit spread and on display from the stretch of his thick cock inside of you, and he takes full advantage. His fingers are thick and blistering hot as he rubs at you, and you choke as your toes curl.

“Simon–” You manage to eke out before you lose the weak thread of your thoughts, scattering into nothing as he stimulates the stiff bead of your clit. 

He grunts to show that he’s heard you, but he doesn’t seem any more capable of words than you are as he rocks into the cradle of your hips. You’re practically blinded by your wet eyes, blinking frantically to try and clear your vision as you reach out clumsily to throw your arms around Ghost’s blisteringly hot neck.

It feels as though your skin is stretched too tight over your body, hot and prickly and too much. You’re trembling, your breaths coming in shaky gasps as agonising pressure builds in your lower belly. 

“Fuck, love.” Ghost says, his voice little more than a snarl. “You gonna come?”

No, You think hazily. No, you never come. But even as you think it, part of you recognises that it’s never felt like this before. Your stomach tightens, toes curling, your lungs burning, your eyes rolling. You hardly even know what’s happening.

You recognise that something is building, but it almost seems secondary to the way that Ghost is rutting into you like a man possessed, hitting that spongey spot in the back of your pussy that you’ve never managed to reach yourself and making your legs spasm every time even as his thick thumb rubs frantic circles around the bump of your clit.

“Fuck, fuck–” You wheeze, bucking your hips against him.

It doesn’t grow and dissipate in the way you’re used to. Rather, it creeps up on you almost without you noticing, until you’re whimpering and clinging to Ghost like he’s a lifeline. Your bottom lip trembles as you sob weakly, practically on the brink of diving into an oncoming tidal wave of desire. Then that coil in your stomach snaps like a rubber band, sudden and sharp as a slap to the face. 

Your back arches, your vision whites out, and you cum so hard that the world stops, your ears ring, your body goes limp. Your cunts sucks tight around him, pulsing, feeling every inch of him. It feels so sweet, that white-hot buzzing pleasure rushing over you and wiping your brain completely clean. 

You’re a little delirious from being stuffed with such a fat cock; every thrust just prolongs your pleasure, like his penetration keeps you from squeezing your very first orgasm out right away. It’s mindless ecstasy, your nails burrowing into the skin of his biceps as you desperately clutch at him for some kind of leverage. Ghost doesn’t falter, his hips continuing to work into you, wringing your orgasm out until you feel as though your brain is melting.

You sob – an actual, genuine, wet-sounding sob as your chest heaves for air and your eyes burn with overwhelmed, rapturous tears. Your head is spinning even as your climax subsides, leaving you limp-limbed and weak as Ghost continues rocking into you.

“Look so lovely when you come, sweetheart,” Ghost grunts into your ear, his bulky chest weighing you down as you clutch feebly at his shoulders. “God, that’s a sight. All for me, yeah?”

His praise only makes it worse, makes your eyes sting until there’s tears down your cheeks and stars behind your eyelids. He sounds so smug, but you can’t deny that he has reason to be. He’s the first man to ever touch you, first man to ever fuck you, the first person to ever tip you over the edge and wring an orgasm out of you. Fuck, you think your brain might have been reduced to mush permanently; you wonder wildly if you’ll ever be the same after this.

Despite the sting of Ghost’s punishing thrusts into your already oversensitive cunt, your body sings for him. The rhythm of his hips is getting gradually sloppier, as though he doesn’t care as much for precision now that he’s succeeded in making you come. Soft, guttural little grunts fall from his mouth, and his arms wrap around your waist to reposition you so that he can fuck quick and shallow. It’s almost tender, as though he’s aware of your growing sensitivity as you mewl under him.

There’s a profound, instinctual pleasure in seeing Ghost lose himself in your embrace. His dark eyes are heavy-lidded and his mask is still all rucked up, revealing the way his mouth is lolled softly open as he pants. You find yourself wishing feverishly that he had taken off his clothes too, because you think you would give anything to watch the roiling muscles of his chest and shoulders as he ruts into you.

Then just when you think you’re beginning to recover from the shattering, mind-numbing oversensitivity, Ghost comes inside of you.

He stops rutting to ride out his orgasm, his cock throbbing, pulsing, spurting inside you until you feel fuller than you’ve ever felt. And he comes a lot. 

You’re stuffed so tightly with his cock that his cum has nowhere to go, and ends up leaking thickly from where your cunt grips around him, messy and hot and spilling over your thighs and his. The sound he makes is breathless, all open-mouth and head lolled back as he groans, blissed out as he finds release in your cunt. 

The minutes afterwards are a blur. 

You close your eyes for what feels like only a second, but the next time you blink your eyes open you find yourself feeling miserably, uncomfortably empty and sticky as all that oozy cum leaks out of you. You somehow missed Ghost pulling out of you, and your thoughts are muzzy and embarrassingly slow.

For a moment, you think you’re alone. You’re becoming more aware of yourself, and you realise that you’re shivering weakly alone in your sweat-damp sheets. Where did Ghost go? Part of you, still a little hazy, wonders if he had left you alone as soon as he had come, and you feel your lower lip tremble at the thought. 

God, you feel pathetic. You shift feebly on the sheets, and suck in a sharp breath when you feel the ache inside you, proof that you’re going to feel the shadow of Ghost’s cock for days. You feel drunk off the afterglow, yet you’re swiftly becoming more and more aware of yourself and all the aches and pains that are coming to the fore now.

It feels like you’re too big for your body, and you’re clumsy when you try to sit up. Pushing yourself up makes a whole new set of aches light up, and you let out a quiet keening grumble.

You’re so caught up with trying to ground yourself that you jolt in surprise when big, paw-like hands land on you, pushing you back down onto the bed. “Shh, hey, lay down.” Ghost says, the rough edges of his accent softened. To your bewilderment, he has a damp cloth in his hand; he went to the bathroom, you realise hazily.

Maybe it’s just because you feel raw after your experience with him, pulsing like an open nerve, but you sniffle and blink and then suddenly there are tears dripping down your face.

“Thought you left.” You mumble, trying not to sound like a needy little idiot.

Ghost glances up at you, unblinkingly. His mask is fixed firmly back in place, and he looks annoyingly put-together; it’s an embarrassingly stark contrast to the way you’re still nude and shivery and teary-eyed.

“No.” He says simply.

The damp cloth is warm when it makes contact with your skin, and you relax as he drags it along your sweaty back and over your legs. He’s a little rough about it, but you don’t think it’s on purpose. Gentleness doesn’t come naturally to Simon Riley, and yet you can feel that he’s trying and that makes a warm glow settle in your stomach, replacing the cold anxiety that had settled in when you thought that he had left you alone.

When the cloth reaches the tender skin of your pussy, you hiss and try to pull away. It all feels too sensitive, and you feel your face crumple up as he wipes away the mess of slick and cum between your thighs. He gentles his touch as much as he can, but you still mewl at the electric zaps of oversensitivity that jolt up your spine.

When Ghost pauses and pulls the cloth away from you, you blink your eyes awake. Your vision is still all wet and blurry from tears, but you can still see the shape of Ghost as he stares down at you. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, even after having been cleaned up, and Ghost’s stare is burning.

You wonder if he’s about to leave now – you can recognise this whole thing had gotten out of hand, and you just about manage to stifle the panic at the creeping realisation that you’ve just fucked your superior officer. Ghost must have realised at this point that the two of you had just ripped through all those fraternisation rules, though it’s always been difficult to tell what he’s thinking. But you trust him – you have to, in your line of work. You have to trust that he’ll handle things.

Ghost tosses aside the cloth, and his big overbearing body climbs back into bed beside you. It’s a standard-issue bunk, and yet it feels comically tiny when Ghost has been added to the mix. He’s surprisingly agile, even despite his big size, and you barely have time to realise that he’s joining you in bed before he’s wrapped a thick arm around your middle, hauling you closer.

You’d love to act chill and cool about the fact that he’s now essentially cuddling you, but you miss the mark by a long mile. You take a breath, and allow yourself to relax into his big burly chest. He’s still fully clothed, and the rough texture of his jeans against your tender bare skin makes you shiver lightly from oversensitivity.

Your hips are sore from being stretched so wide, your joints weak and watery, and you’re perfectly content to close your eyes and forcibly ignore all your concerns about fraternisation or how you’re going to face Ghost in training. It’s a problem for another time.

“You still alive?” Ghost grunts, and his palm coasts down over your back to settle at your ass, his fingers squeezing absent-mindedly into the soft flesh there.

He sounds amused, which makes you grumble in irritation. He takes up so much space, his big body filling up all the free space on the bed and making you feel so fucking small as he holds you so that your back is pressed against his stomach.

“I dunno,” You mumble, words a little garbled. “Think… think you might have fucked me stupid, Lt.”

Lying like this, with his front pressed against your back, you can feel his laugh rumble into you. He’s touchy too in a way that surprises you; his hands are constantly moving, swiping over your sides and groping at any part of you that’s squishy-soft.

“Think I might have,” He agrees, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even if you can’t see it. “But I think you needed it, sweetheart. You were practically cryin’ out for it all day.”

You feel your face heat at the insinuation that he had noticed the arousal you thought you had hidden so well. But you still feel so fuzzy inside, and you can’t manage to drum up any genuine reaction.

Ghost’s roaming hand slips down between your legs, and you hold your breath as he reaches your swollen, tender pussy. His fingers are so big, but he’s aware of his strength and keeps his touch light, cupping rather than groping, his calloused palm catching on your puffy clit.

“Told you a real cock would be better,” He rumbles, and you feel the soft material of his mask rubbing against the back of your sweaty neck. “You’ve got a fussy little cunt – ‘s only gonna be satisfied by the real thing.”

You’d love to jab back at him, but the feeling of him rough palm against your oversensitive clit has your thoughts fizzing out into nothingness. All you can do is let out a quiet little whimper, and rock your hips into his touch. To your utter bewilderment, you feel your arousal, which you had previously considered entirely sated, pulse back to life.

As if Ghost can feel your cunt throb beneath his hand, he snickers. “Yeah. Fussy and greedy.”

He leans down, and you feel his lips brush against the back of your neck through the cotton of his balaclava. You quiver, and part your legs without conscious thought to give his thick fingers more room to work. Despite your exhaustion, and your soreness, and your sensitivity, you find yourself wanting. You wonder, with an edge of hysteria, if your body has somehow managed to rewire itself to only accept pleasure from your commanding officer’s hand.

“Ghost– Simon–” You breathe, your hips jumping as you grind into his palm.

“Yeah,” He says again, as though he knows exactly what you need and want. “One little orgasm wasn’t enough, was it?”

“No.” You choke out, throwing your head back so that it’s resting against Ghost’s broad chest. “No, ‘t wasn’t.”

You can hardly believe that your body is winding up for more, but Ghost’s touch is searing hot against your tender skin, and you can already taste the pleasure he’s going to bring you. This time, without the edge of urgency, you think you might even enjoy it more.

“Gimme five minutes,” He drawls, his voice low and muffled in your ear. “And I’ll give you your second.”

[lymtw]

A Perfect Night For Wine

Toji invites you over with a simple text of:

You busy tonight, doll?

To which you respond with:

I don't think so... Not that I know of. Why?

He laughs through his nose when he reads your message. Even the way you text him has your timidness imbued into it. It's precious.

Come spend the night at my place. You told me you're off tomorrow, right?

I am, but are you sure? Driving home is not a problem for me. I can hang out and go home after.

You're staying. I wanna try something with you and it requires you to stay the night. You can't go home.

Oh okay! I'll be there in 10.

Drive safe.

Toji likes that you're very precise about the time you'll be arriving somewhere, and if you're ever late when it comes to spending time with him, you apologize profusely, nonstop. You won't stop blubbering about why you're late and how sorry you are for making him wait, even after Toji's expressed that he's more than understanding. He's the king of showing up late to plans, so he can't be a hypocrite and scold you when you don't do it often at all.

You're so sorry, though, and you don't shut up about it until he makes you shut up with a kiss. You're helpless, and you can't for the life of you figure out where to put your hands when you're so focused on the grip he had on your waist to pull you up against him.

He releases your lips, cracking a grin at the look of wonder on your face. He can't deny the pride that swells in his chest at his ability to disarm you and prevent you from having a total meltdown over a three minute delay.

Toji has gotten so much better at handling situations like these with you. It's only fair for him to gain satisfaction out of making you feel better. After all, you are a first for him. You're emotionally fragile, you're a nervous wreck, and your voice competes with the wind just to be heard. Toji doesn't set aside the fact that you're also beautiful, warmhearted, and you try for him. He sees your attempts to be affectionate. You'll slowly reach your hand out to hold his and then bail the second he catches you. He ends up having to interlock his fingers with yours because your embarrassment doesn't allow you to try again. He still appreciates that you leave your comfort zone for him and allow him to guide you towards new experiences.

"Stop with the guilty feelings, ma. We have all night and all day tomorrow. What's a couple minutes to ensure you get to me in one piece?" He says, comforting your droopy self. You look like a sad, abandoned puppy, now sporting rosy cheeks from his surprising gesture.

"Okay," you say, feeling a little more at ease. "What did you have in mind for tonight?"

"Follow me," he says, leading you through his living room to his kitchen. He pulls out a stool for you and points at it. "Sit." You want to laugh at the way he says it like he's teaching commands to a dog, but you know he doesn't mean it that way, so you obediently sit down like one anyway.

"Have you eaten anything?" He asks, silently hoping you have because he doesn't have anything to make you dinner. He would have to order in or pick something up.

"I ate a couple hours ago. Still pretty full," you respond, watching him reach up for something in his cabinets. There's now a tall glass bottle with a red label and matching cap sitting on the counter.

"How 'bout it?" He says, a large hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle. "We could go to the couch and watch a movie or something."

He's never seen you under the influence of anything, but based on your reaction, maybe he'll get a show tonight. He's always wanted to know what you would be like if you were more extroverted and outspoken. There's nothing wrong with the way you are, but if things keep going the way they're going between you and Toji, he's bound to meet your chatty alter ego at some point in the future. What better way to have this experience than in a secure place with someone who can handle their alcohol and take care of you if it turns out that you can't.

"Okay, sure." You giggle, excitedly.

You're a lightweight. Even the fruitiest, sweetest alcoholic beverage will quickly take a toll on you while you're sipping on it. Wine is a step up, so you'll have to try your best to keep it together for the sake of not looking sloppy in front of Toji.

Toji brings down two glasses, and pours out the deep red liquid into them. One for you, one for him. He hands the glass to you, and nods at your quiet "thank you".

Toji watches as you immediately take a sip. He sees the way your nose scrunches at what you consider to be a funny taste, but the second you put the glass down, you smile like nothing. You don't like it at all. You hate the bitterness, and the fact that it's made with fermented grapes lives in the back of your head.

"How is it?" He asks, holding back a chuckle. You're too sweet for your own good, pretending to enjoy this for him.

"I like it," you say, pressing your lips together.

"Yeah? I think it's kinda gross. Guess I was expecting more from a fancy ass bottle, but brands are gonna brand, huh?"

You giggle, almost involuntarily. You're one gulp in, and already you're starting to feel the effects.

One of your worst habits includes chugging drinks that don't taste good, just so you can get them over with. You even do this when your drink is messed up at coffee shop. You're too nice to ask the barista to remake it, so you suck it up and drink the incorrect beverage solely for the caffeine you hope it has in it. This time is no different. You hate the taste of alcohol. You don't do plain shots, you can't stand hard ciders, and wine is no exception, but you're doing this for Toji. He cracked open the bottle to share with you, so you're going to drink every ounce of the liquid in the glass, whether you like the taste or not.

You bring the glass to your lips again, taking a much larger sip. The glass is a little less than halfway now, and your eyelids are starting to feel a little heavy. Not in a sleepy manner, but you can't seem to hold your eyes open as wide anymore.

You exhale through your nose, shut your eyes, and then blink them back open to take note of your altered state.

"That was a lot. How are you feeling?" Toji asks, noticing a shift in your demeanor. You seem a little more sluggish now. You turn your attention to him, your eyes rolling when they turn to meet his.

"I'm good, how are you?" You ask, like it was the start of a conversation rather than an ongoing one. Your eyes almost shut completely when you smile at him.

"You're tipsy already, aren't you?" He asks, with a grin on his face.

"Pshh, what? No, i'm not," you say, contradicting yourself with a giggle. "Answer the question, baby. How are you?"

"Fine," he responds, lingering on the pet name. You've got loose lips, now. In any other circumstance, you would address him by his name. Most of the time Toji is the one giving you pet names, for the sake of flustering you. He loves the way you look at him when he calls you doll or sweetheart, somewhat shocked every time the words leave his mouth.

"Yeah? That's good." You pick up the glass one more time, sighing before you mutter, "'scuse me. Gotta finish this."

With that last sip, the glass was now empty. Even Toji thinks you drank that too fast, but he still has the courtesy to ask you if you want more.

"Mhm, I'll have a little bit more. Just a tiny bit." Toji pours as much as he did the first time, chuckling when you nod in approval of the quantity. "That's perfect. Absolutely, perfect. You're a genius, my love." You flash him a smile before starting on the next glass.

Toji was considering having another glass, but that was before you called him "my love" in a tone so warm that he felt like he just had a bowl of hot soup that was now settling in his stomach. That was before you smiled at him in such a free spirited manner. It was too late for him to see you in this state while completely sober, but he sure as hell wouldn't be adding anymore alcohol to his system. He can't miss something like this, so instead he leans forward on the counter, and intently watches your every move.

"I got something on my face?" You ask, dragging your sleeves all over your face. You examine your sleeves and they're clean. "You liar. You're looking at me like that for nothing." You squint at him, a slight scrunch in your nose to define your defensiveness.

Toji laughs, his focus now on the small pinch in your brows. "Don't go picking fights over nothing. It's not a crime to look at my pretty baby."

Your faux tough exterior immediately crumbles, the irked expression on your face dropping to the ground, at the sugary words he uses on you. Your face feels very warm, and now there's an indefinite blush on it. You can't stop smiling at the look on Toji's face. He's so focused that he's gone speechless, and you eventually break into a laughing fit because of it.

"Hey... i'm usually the quiet one. Why aren't you talking, pretty boy? Need me to shut up?"

The pet name has Toji glancing at your glass, noticing that it was full for less than five minutes. This was new— you being flirtatious towards him. He didn't have any complaints about it whatsoever.

Once again, the quantity of the wine in your glass was below the halfway mark. "Nah, baby. Talk to me. You must really like the wine, huh?"

"Mmm..." you lean forward towards him, with your elbow on the counter and your chin in your palm. "What makes you say that?"

He actually snickers this time, earning a sly grin from you. "You're chugging it like it's water. It's either you love it or it tastes like ass and you're dying to spit it out."

You pick up the glass again, one last time. "Let's find out if I like it," you say as if you're not on your second serving. You let the liquid hit your tongue, and you are instantly repulsed by the flavor. The glass is tilted all the way up, signaling that you've finished two cups of wine in less than fifteen minutes. Your cheeks are filled with the drink, blown up like a puffer fish, which makes Toji smile softly with anticipation for your reaction. Your tongue stays on the roof of your mouth, keeping the wine in your cheeks separate, to give you a break for a few seconds. You release the bubbles of your cheeks and your mouth is flooded with the bittersweet liquid. You swallow the burgundy mouthful and smile with your lips pressed together once it's all gone. The mouth drying effect of wine is your least favorite thing about it.

"So?" Toji prompts.

"It's-" you gag, clasping a hand over your mouth with wide, slightly teary eyes.

Toji's chest and shoulders shake as he contains his laughter, his lips pressed together tightly to stifle the smile threatening to show itself, but his eyes tell you everything.

"Wooo, sorry about that," you say, chuckling through the embarrassment. "It's good," you repeat, still muffled by your palm.

"Yeah? Want more?" Toji asks, holding up the bottle with a teasing grin on his face.

You almost gag again but manage to control yourself. "No, thank you. Any more and I'll doze off, and we both know that's not what i'm here for." There was a hint of sultriness in your tone, something Toji was not sufficiently familiar with. It was a completely welcome shift from your normally tentative way of speaking to him.

"I know why you're here, but I wanna know what you think you're here for."

You stand from your stool and lean more of your body onto the counter. Your hand reaches for his, and for the first time, you don't pull back before making contact with his skin. "To love on you, of course," you say, with those pretty rosy cheeks. Your eyes remained glossy and your nose was still red from trying not to bring the wine back up earlier, but Toji thought you looked so cute.

"Is that right?" His thumb brushes over your knuckles, feeling the softness against his rough fingertip.

"Let's go watch that movie you were talking about and you'll see what I mean."

Toji was loving this. Your confidence, your lack of holding back anything you had to say, it was truly baffling how you could be someone else entirely with just a couple glasses of wine.

You keep his hand in yours, and as if it were your house, you say, "come on," and drag him along to the living room.

This time you say "sit" and point at the couch. This time he's the obedient dog and does as you say, sitting on the exact cushion you were pointing at with a smirk on his face. He moves the couch pillow aside to make room for you, but you had another seat in mind. You take two steps towards him before slowly dropping yourself into his lap, straddling him.

"I see you're finally taking your seat on the throne, hm?" He grins, resting his hands on your waist. This is the closest Toji's been allowed to watch you giggle without you burying your face into his neck and it's a trip. He can see the details of the creases around your eyes and the lift in your cheeks as you smile. He feels fuzzy, and he didn't even finish his glass of wine, so he knows it's not that.

"Stop making me laugh and pick a movie, will you? I'm here for that, too."

He picks up the remote for the TV and turns it on. "How are you gonna watch the movie while facing me?"

"Actually,.. can I tell you a secret, baby?" You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair that reaches towards the nape of his neck, combing through it gently.

"What's that, princess?" Toji asks, vert eyes flitting between your eyes and that sweet smile of yours.

"I don't wanna watch a movie. I... wanna look at you... and that's it." Your nails gently scratch the back of his head, eliciting a tingly sensation that makes chills run down his spine.

"That's cool, too," Toji says, turning the TV off again, not caring that it was on for less than a minute before you changed your mind. He sighs, adjusting his position beneath you. Your thighs are secured around his hips, your knees touching the backrest of the couch.

"You're so handsome, my baby. God, look at those eyes," you whisper in awe, before giggling and bringing your hands to his face. You trace the bags under his eyes with your thumbs while admiring the haunting shade of green that scopes on you. Toji's hand comes up to loosely wrap around your wrist. He's not there to stop you, he just wants to move along with you as you observe his face.

"I know I don't say this to you enough, but I find you..." you sigh, blinking slowly, "enchanting..." You lean in and kiss the left corner of his lips—his right, and feel the smooth, tattered skin beneath your warm lips. "and I love you," you mumble into the cicatrix. "So fucking much, baby. And i'm sorry that you'll never know exactly how much because you aren't me." You're looking at him with so much adoration and touching him with a delicacy that can't be put into words. It's a deadly combination, one that has Toji in a chokehold and forces him to soften up even more for you.

He tightens the hold he has on your waist, pulling you closer until your stomach is pressed to his, as a result. You being so affectionate towards him is making him feel really good, and you have no idea because you're too focused on appreciating him. He's subconsciously leaning into your touch, his softened gaze meeting your lovestruck one.

"Fuck. I love you, too, princess," he murmurs, squeezing your wrist in his hand. He pulls your hand down to his chest. "Want you to aim for my lips, this time."

"Okay," you say, smiling before closing the distance between your lips and Toji's. He can still taste the remnants of the wine you inhaled minutes ago, but it tastes much better and a lot sweeter on you. Toji can hear your high pitched little hums as you kiss him, happiness pouring into your kisses. You're trying so hard not to laugh in his face, and trying is the best you can do, right now. You never were good at hiding your smile from Toji. He can't see it, but he can feel the way your lips widen, and he's occasionally kissing your teeth when your sluggishness keeps you from matching his pace. With little pants leaving you, you drag your lips away.

He sighs, frustrated by the loss of your softness against him. "Baby..." he groans, the sound almost whine-like to your ears. He wants more, so much more of you, and you're ignoring him. You're too busy kissing his chin, and his cheeks, and the tip of his nose.

You drag your other hand down to his chest and keep your hands splayed out on it as you let your lips trail his jaw, lightly sucking on the skin. Toji can't help but think about how this version of you will be gone in the morning. You won't be as outwardly affectionate, you'll go back to second guessing every move you make with him and shrinking every time he steals kisses from you, instead of confidently kissing him back like you did a minute ago.

You make your way down his neck, pressing kiss after kiss on him before you move towards his ear. "I love you, Toji," you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear after. "Love you, love you, love you soooo much," you barrage, before throwing him off with a bite to his earlobe. You giggle like a menace into his ear, the warmth of your breath luring goosebumps out onto his skin.

He chuckles, repeatedly squeezing the soft skin of your waist between his hands. "Yeah? Tell me again," he murmurs snaking his hands beneath the back of your shirt. Your skin is very warm, and there's nothing to blame but Toji and that shitty wine for making your body react this way.

With uninterrupted hands, you course your fingers through his hair and lean in to bite him again, this time on his neck. Toji chuckles at how you instantly rush to soothe him with your tongue and a warm kiss, even when you inflicted zero pain on him.

"I love you, Toji," you repeat into the wet indentations you left behind. "My love... my handsome man... I cherish you, you know?"

Toji is practically purring at all the affection you're showering him with. The slurring of your words is blocked out and they remain clear as day to him. He manages to hum a deep little "mhm" to your last statement.

"It's just so hard to talk to you sometimes. You... you're so intimidating, sometimes. I don't expect you to understand..." you divert your gaze to his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes as vulnerability takes sudden control of your emotions. "It seems like I don't appreciate you sometimes—all the time, but I do, Toji. I do appreciate you, and I can't ever say I love you enough to show it. Words aren't always enough."

Toji catches the waver in your voice and his eyes dart to yours. You're tearing up, and you're trying to still your quivering lips by pressing them together.

"Shit," Toji mutters under his breath. You have the saddest expression he's ever seen and it's messing with his heart. He pulls his hands out of your shirt so that he can swiftly pull you into his warm embrace. "Hey," he coos. You're shaking against him, holding your breath to avoid sobbing. Your lungs burn, but you'd rather feel that than make a scene of your tears. "Don't be sad, mama. What's with the tears, hm?" he murmurs. He can feel your tears dampening his shoulder, but the fact that you haven't made a sound is concerning. "Breathe or you'll die," he says, only half joking. He rubs a soothing palm against your back, his other arm around your waist.

You let out what sounds like a mixture between a choked laugh and a sob, slowly but surely regulating your breathing. You don't even feel like saying anything anymore because you know your voice will give way to even more pity.

"You're more than enough for me," Toji says, his chin resting on your head. "I know how you feel, you know how I feel. We're complete." He can feel the way you scrunch his shirt up into your fists. As if he would go anywhere without you. "I get you and you're stuck with me. Got it?" You silently nod against his shoulder in response. "Sit up and let me look at you."

You really don't want him to see you this way. Your eyes feel swollen and you don't feel presentable.

"I can't..." you say, barely audible. You release his shirt and let your hands go limp behind him.

"Why not?"

"I'm not pretty right now. Don't look at me."

"I'm gonna look at you," he challenges with a teasing grin.

"Toji, don't look at me."

"Too late, it's happening. Plan's already in motion," he says, sliding his arms onto your shoulders.

"Toji, don't-" He effortlessly pushes you off his shoulder and gives you a once over. You look defeated and you're unable to look him in the eyes, but at least he can see you now.

"Don't know what you were so worried about. You look the same but more blush-y." You finally give him your slightly reddened eyes, a soft smile appearing on your face. You look like your sober self. "Yeah, you look the same."

"Are you lying?" You ask, still not regaining the full strength of your voice yet.

"I wouldn't tell you if I was, but no, i'm not lying. You're so pretty." Toji wiped away tears that were stuck beneath your eyes, and you giggled. He washed away your sadness within a couple minutes. Toji always did this for you in exchange for your love and affection. He lifted your spirits when you didn't feel deserving of him, and with time, he got much better at recognizing the signs that came with this ridiculous idea you planted in your head.

"You're done loving on me? Already?" He asks in playful disbelief.

"You're not done with me? Do you actually want more?" You ask, hesitantly.

"Don't want more, I need more," he corrects, returning his hands to their rightful place on your waist. "Get all up on me, princess."

You giggle, leaning closer towards him to peck a kiss onto his cheek.

"Mhm, like that," he says, contently, when you pick up the pace and start smothering him. "Yeah, baby, there you go." His forearms go beneath your shirt, encircling around your bare waist and pulling you close to him like before. "Who's getting spoiled like me?" He says through a grin. You're holding back laughs as he continues to praise you for your affection.

"S-Stop," you say through a wheeze, not able to contain the sound any longer when you looked at him.

"What are you laughing at, huh?" He chases you this time, pressing his nose into your cheek before planting a light kiss into your jaw.

"You're so unserious," you say, turning your head as he keeps going with the kisses.

"Mmm... I'm serious about you," he says, feeling the vibration of your laughter against his grin. "So serious."

Your cheeks feel incredibly hot from how much you've been smiling. In this little drunken haze, things are so good. You're so happy, you're so affectionate, and you talk so much. This isn't like you at all, but it's not hurting anyone, especially not Toji. There was one minor slip, but you moved past it so quickly like the words never left your head to begin with. You're just so simple... so easy to take care of.

Toji notices the way your eyes are starting to lid with tiredness, and while he would love for you to doze off in his arms right then and there, you'd probably prefer waking up in a bed.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?" He suggests.

"What? No! I just got here... We can still talk, and kiss and- I'm not even tired."

Toji grins at the way you fight him on this, and he has half a mind to indulge you when you look so adorable, but he has to stand his ground. He's right.

"But, you are. You can't even hold your eyes open, anymore."

You feel sad again because the rest of the night would be going to waste if you both go to sleep early. You're there to spend time with Toji, and yet you feel like it's your fault your time is being cut short. You're thinking you shouldn't have drank the wine so quickly, if at all.

"Listen, doll," Toji says. He doesn't like the sadness that resurfaces on your pretty face. He doesn't think you should look that way because of him. "We're just gonna go lay in bed. We don't have to go to sleep. We can stay up as long as you want. Light on or light off, whatever you wanna do, let's just move it to the room."

You sigh, still not completely convinced that the night isn't over, but Toji managed to persuade you. "Will you carry me, please? My legs feel like jelly."

"Of course. What kind of person would I be if I let you stumble into the room on your own?"

You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, your face buried into the crook of his neck. "You'd still be my favorite person, but i'd be a little upset..."

Toji stands from the couch, humming in response to your quiet mumbles.

"...but not really upset. Just a little bummed. Not for too long, though, 'cause I love you, but I would expect an apology from you if I fell down," you draw out.

Toji cracks at your little ramblings. It's a ten second walk from the couch to the bedroom, and the whole time you were working through a hypothetical conflict.

"Yeah? You'd want me to say sorry?" He asks, setting you down on the bed.

"Mhm, and then I wouldn't be upset or bummed anymore," you mutter to yourself as you roll onto your back.

"That's fair. Want the light on or off?"

"Off," you blurt. "Let's tell scary stories," you trill, enthusiastically. You pull the blanket over your lower body until it reaches just below your chest.

Toji makes his way to the bed after turning off the light. He takes his shirt off, and out of habit lets it fall to the floor. "We're not telling scary stories this late at night," he says, joining you beneath the blanket.

"But, they're funny," you say, turning to face him. "I don't get scared, either."

"Depends on who's telling the story. I'm sure as hell not gonna feed you a nightmare, doll."

"Boo," you say, lowly. "Whatever, i'm over it already," you mutter, rolling your eyes.

Toji watches you grow more and more tired as you throw random, nonsensical topics at him. You're taking longer to respond by the minute, and you're dozing off while humming in thought. You shake awake each time it happens and try to keep the conversation going, but Toji just shushes you and tells you to go back to sleep.

"I can see the moon through the window," you mumble, looking past him.

"I know, shh..." he hushes you, again.

"There's only like... one star," you whisper, in awe.

"Baby, come here," Toji says, like he's about to lecture you about the rules of sleep, but really he's just thinking that if his body heat doesn't put you down, he's gonna have to stay up with you until you fall asleep on your own.

You scoot closer towards Toji, tucking your arms into your chest when he reaches out to pull you into him the rest of the way. His body exudes so much warmth, you feel like you don't need the blanket at all.

There was nothing left for you to say when you couldn't see or feel anything but him. It was as if you were gone the second he enveloped you in his arms. You were small to the brink of nonexistence, no longer there to tell him what your surroundings were, or to ask him thoughtless, silly questions. You were no longer there to fight off the sleep he only seemed to bring closer towards you. Feeling his warm skin against you made you change your mind about this invisible fiend that was pulling your eyelids down. You now welcomed the calls to rest from your steady heartbeats.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, but for good measure, he poked at you with a whisper of, "Ma?" and waited a few seconds for your response. Nothing. He sighed and coiled around you tighter. Thoughts of the night ran through his head. Your soft, yet, occasionally bruising kisses and the imprints of your teeth on his skin, your unapologetic laughter, your certainty in using the pet names that claimed him as yours. He was weak for the amount of times you openly told him you loved him. It was a psychedelic dream, to say the least. One he hoped would continue once he followed you into slumber.

You woke up hours later, completely smothered by your bear of a man. All you could do was stare up at the ceiling, while you waited for Toji to wake up because he was literally breathing down your neck. His arm rested over your chest, his legs were tangled with yours, and his face was right beside your face. You weren't feeling the effects of the wine anymore, and luckily, you didn't have a headache or any signs of a hangover. You were back, which meant...

"What are you staring at?" A deep, raspy voice jolts you out of your thoughts.

You look at the handsome face next to you, and as if your heart can hear and see, it wakes up. "Nothing. Just woke up," you lie.

"Mm... you were staring hard at the roof. I thought it came to life or something," Toji chuckles. You smile, briefly, before looking at the ceiling again.

Toji releases you and flips onto his back, wanting to know what's so fascinating about the space you're looking at. "What are you thinking?" He asks, when he discovers nothing but blank space.

You take your time, not wanting to stumble over your words. Your heart skips a beat when he turns his head to look at you. In the time it takes for you to respond, you both could have gone back to sleep again.

"A penny for your thoughts?" he finally says, following the idiom with a question. "Did I even use that correctly?"

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head to answer his question. "I'm thinking about last night. Sorry if I said anything stupid."

Toji turns his body towards you again, thinking the only thing that's stupid is that he's still staring at the roof instead of staring at you. "You didn't. You were calm, from what I got to see, at least."

"So... boring."

"Not boring," he instantly catches. "You were perfect. You didn't have me running around chasing you, you weren't a brat—it couldn't have gone better, ma." He purposely missed something in his less than brief recount of the night to you. He can think back to the emotions that seeped through your little daze, and your insecurity about outwardly showing him love, all he wants, but there's no way in hell he's bringing that up to you, now. "You ramble a lot," he adds, a soft smile emerging on his face.

You can feel your cheeks warming up. "Oh god," you groan in embarrassment. "That's not- Sorry, that sounds... not so fun. Annoying of me, actually."

"Stop, it was cute," he assures, adding more fury to the blush creeping on your face. "Then you wouldn't go to sleep 'cause you kept seeing stuff outside the window."

You wanted to drown yourself in the blanket. Shame and embarrassment were winning their battle against you, as always.

"That was also cute," he says, watching the way your lips twitch as you bite back a smile. "You know my favorite part, though?" He says, grinning as he leans towards your ear.

"N-No, what?" You ask, trying so hard not to giggle.

"When you kissed me and told me you loved me," he murmurs into your ear like it's a dirty secret.

You snicker, the short sound of amusement evolving into laughter within seconds. You throw the blanket over your face and partially over Toji's face. The sight of your veiled body shaking with laughter lured out a couple chuckles of his own.

"That's funny?" He asks, pulling the blanket down, allowing you to see the sly grin he's sporting.

"A little bit," you respond, smiling— a remainder of your laughter.

"Silly girl. Come here," he says, dragging you back into his arms. "There's no reason you should be awake at six in the morning on your day off. Let's go back to sleep," he murmurs into the crown of your head. "We can go out for breakfast, later."

"Okay," you mumble, eyes shut already as you embrace the natural warmth of his body.

"One more thing," he murmurs. You don't raise your gaze, but your ears are open and you're listening closely. "Tell me you love me."

You didn't expect that, but you weren't going to deny him of such a simple thing. The words were easy to recite because you meant them with every fiber of your being. "I love you, Toji," you comply, immediately.

He sighs, contently, almost like hearing those words revitalized him. "Love you, too, mama."

That went out to every version of you.

[wholoveseggs]

Kinktober - {Day Seven} {<- kinktober masterlist}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}

{Kol Mikaelson x Klaus Mikaelson x Elijah Mikaelson x F!Reader} Request {Anon}: hiii omg im so ready for ur kinktober!! i wanted to request a poly mikaelson fic w overstim n maybe praise n daddy kink. maybe like theyre all hunting or something and come across r who is a princess away from the castle and is like she’ll do anything to stay alive or something n then maybe gets fucked by the mikaelsons 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ sort of like how lucien was found, but not? hahahaha

~ Hiii sweet anon, unfortunately I totally forgot about the princess aspect of your request... but you are certainly their princess in spirit??? I hope you like it! ~

1.5k words - Kinks: praise kink, overstim, daddy kink, foursome...

To be theirs, was to be loved, and you knew that well enough. You'd been with them for centuries, and though at times, they'd be the death of you, they'd be your saviors just as often.

Tonight, you needed them, your body humming with a desire that you weren't sure you'd be able to satisfy on your own. So, you called out to all three of them, wondering who would arrive first, knowing full well, that they would all come running.

The first to arrive was Elijah, and you didn't bother to get up from the bed when he did. He smiled, taking in the sight of your naked, quivering form, and his clothes were off before you'd even managed to greet him. You let out a small gasp as his skin met yours, his hands roaming every inch of your body, his lips soon following.

Kol was the next, already undressed before he entered the room and you giggled a little at his eagerness. He didn't hesitate to climb onto the bed and kiss you, his tongue invading your mouth as Elijah kissed down your chest and stomach, his hands running along your thighs.

Klaus was the last to join, visibly annoyed that everyone got started without him. You looked over to him, batting your eyelashes innocently, and he softened, stripping his clothes and climbing into bed, his hand tangling in your hair as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You'd been with them long enough that you didn't have to say anything, and they each knew exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Their touches were gentle, and their mouths left goosebumps wherever they traveled.

Since Elijah was first to arrive, he was first to be inside of you, and he took his time, his cock pressing slowly into you until you were filled to the brim. Kol's mouth was on your breasts, his fingers rolling your nipple between them, while Klaus kissed along your neck and jaw.

"Such a good girl," Klaus cooed in your ear, positioning his cock near your lips.

You moaned softly, opening your mouth and letting him slide inside. It was hard not to smile around his length, his taste familiar and comforting. Elijah's pace had already quickened, his breath shaky, as his thrusts pushed you further onto Klaus.

"So gorgeous," Kol mumbled against your chest, "Our beautiful girl."

Your moans were muffled by Klaus's cock, and you could tell by the way his hand clenched around the base of your neck that he was enjoying it.

Kol reached down between you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, and you pulled away from Klaus and moaned, his cock twitching at the sudden absence of your mouth.

"Please," You whimpered, looking up at Elijah.

He shook his head and smiled, keeping a steady pace, not quite giving you the satisfaction that you sought. You let out a frustrated moan, and he chuckled.

"Try again," he whispered.

You pouted, your cheeks becoming warm, you knew the magic word that would have him doing anything you wanted.

"Please, daddy," you said breathlessly, and the effect was immediate, his hips stuttering, his eyes falling shut, and his grip tightening on your thighs.

"Oh, fuck," Kol murmured, "I think she broke him."

You giggled, looking up at Elijah and raising your eyebrows, knowing exactly what the effect that one word had on him. His eyes opened, and he looked down at you, smiling softly before his expression changed, his eyes darkening.

His hips moved faster, his thrusts rougher, and the pressure that was building inside of you grew, a tingling sensation running through you. Kol's thumb still teased your clit, and you could barely catch your breath between the moans that escaped you.

Klaus's cock was back in your mouth, his hips thrusting in a rhythm that matched Elijah's. The three of them had worked out a system, a perfect dance, and you couldn't help but feel so overwhelmed by the pleasure they brought you.

They could tell you were overwhelmed, your legs shaking and your eyes welling with tears, and they slowed down, their touches lighter, their voices soft.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Klaus asked, and you nodded.

"Too much," you mumbled.

"Nooo," they all said at once, and you laughed.

"You can do it, baby, I know you can." Kol insisted, and the others nodded in agreement.

Elijah's hips began to move again, this time at a slower pace, and his fingers tangled in your hair, gently guiding your mouth back to Klaus's cock.

"There we go, such a good girl." Klaus praised, and you whined, his words pushing you closer to the edge.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and teary, and he smiled softly. His hands cupped your face, wiping away the tears that spilled over.

"So fucking beautiful," He mumbled, "And all ours."

"Ours," Elijah and Kol agreed, and the way their voices seemed to surround you was intoxicating.

Elijah groaned, his pace faltering slightly before he buried himself inside of you, and you moaned, the sensation of his release bringing you closer to yours.

You loved watching them come undone, the way their expressions changed and the sounds that they made, the way their hands reached for you, pulling you closer. It was all so beautiful, and you wished you could freeze time, and live in this moment forever.

You watched as Elijah pulled away, sitting back on his heels, his eyes taking in the sight of you. You didn't have much time to admire him before Kol took his place, pulling you like a ragdoll into his lap. You gasped at the feeling of his length easing into you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, and you moaned, burying your face in his shoulder.

"Our sweet little love," Kol hummed, and you couldn't stop the whimper that left you, "Such a good girl."

The feeling of him inside you, combined with his words, pushed you over the edge, and he grinned. Your body shaking in his arms as you cried out his name.

"So good, sweetheart," Kol groaned, his hand caressing your back, "Just one more, yeah? Can you do that for me, darling?"

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath, and he smiled, pulling you closer.

"Use your words, we can't have you passing out on us," Elijah said, and you giggled, they had accidentally done that to you in the past by pushing you too far, and they didn't want that happening again.

"I'll be okay, daddy," You said, looking over at him and giving him a smile, "I want more."

Kol laid back on the bed, his hands still holding your hips as he thrust upwards into you. You let out a groan, the knot in your stomach growing, and your moans became louder and more frequent.

"That's our girl," Kol cooed, his eyes watching the expressions of pleasure cross your face.

"So pretty," Klaus added, he stood on the bed beside you, his cock back in your mouth.

It was becoming too much, and you could feel tears welling in your eyes. You looked up at Klaus, blinking back the tears and trying to convey what you wanted, and he smiled down at you.

"Let go, darling," He said, his thumb caressing your cheek, "We're right here."

The moment you were given permission, you felt yourself fall apart, the knot snapping, your legs shaking as Kol continued to fuck you, pushing you further into oblivion. Elijah's hand ran gently over your back, whispering soft praises, and the feeling of his lips on your skin was grounding.

Klaus's cock twitched in your mouth, and you looked up at him, smiling innocently as you watched him come undone. You swallowed down his release, enjoying the way his head fell back, his hands clenching in your hair.

"Fucking gorgeous," Klaus breathed, letting go of you and laying down on the bed, breathing heavily.

Kol was next, and you could feel him throbbing inside of you, his thrusts sloppy, his grunts turning to moans.

"Fuckkkk," he groaned, his cum spilling inside of you.

Your body was limp, and if it weren't for Elijah, who was behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, you'd have fallen forward onto Kol.

"We've got you, my love," Elijah whispered, kissing your neck, "Are you alright?"

"Mmhmm," you managed, your eyelids growing heavy.

Elijah lifted you off of Kol, pulling you on top of him, you rested your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, your body still trembling. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

Klaus and Kol moved in, one on either side, each of them placing a hand on your back, a reassuring weight.

"Did you get what you needed, darling?" Klaus asked, and you hummed a quiet affirmation.

Sleep soon came, and the four of you laid together, the silence broken only by the sound of soft snores. To be shared by the three of them was bliss, and there was nothing more satisfying than to be theirs, and for them to be yours.

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